Three Fates

studied the fruit and sliced off a branch of fat purple grapes. “Will you not sample some? From our own arbors.”
    “Thank you.” She took the branch from him. “You were saying?”
    “Eh? Oh yes, yes.” He took his time, selected a branch of grapes for himself. “Yes, some small success on the matter of the woman you seek. The name of the hotel where she was booked.”
    “You found her.” Anita swung her legs over the chaise so that her feet smacked against the tiles. “Why didn’t you say so? Where is this place?”
    “In an area of the city I would never recommend for a lady of your delicacies. Cheese?”
    “I need a car and driver,” she snapped. “Immediately.”
    “Of course, all is at your disposal.” He cut a thin slice of cheese, added it to the small plate that held the grapes she’d yet to taste. “Ah, but you think to go to this hotel to see her. She is not there.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    Obvious, Stefan thought again. Yes, she was obvious. And now the cat peeked out behind the mask, showing its nasty little fangs and ugly temper. “She was booked,” he explained, “but has checked out only today.”
    “Where did she go? Where the hell is she?”
    “Alas, I was unable to learn this. The clerk said only that she checked out, shortly after meeting with a young man. British or Irish, the clerk wasn’t certain. They left together.”
    The color that temper and excitement had thrown into her cheeks slid away until her face was white as bone, hard as stone. “That can’t be.”
    “Naturally, there could be some mistake or confusion, but the clerk seemed cooperative enough, and very certain. I can arrange for you to speak with him yourself tomorrow if you like. He has no English, but I will be happy to interpret. Still I must insist you meet him away from this area. I could not, in good conscience, take you there.”
    “I need to talk to him now. I need to find her now. Before . . .” She paced the hot white tiles around the pool, and thought murderously of Malachi Sullivan.
    “Calm yourself, Anita.” His tone all comfort, Stefan got to his feet. A servant approached and apologized for the interruption.
    Stefan took the envelope the servant held out, then dismissed him.
    “Anita, you have a telegram.”
    She whirled back, the heels of her sandals clicking on the tile.
    Ordinarily he would have excused himself to give a guest privacy, but he refused to miss the moment and stood nearby, watching as she ripped open the telegram. And read.
    Anita. Sorry I didn’t have time to come around in person and give you my regards. Strangers in a strange land, and so on. But I finished my business in Athens rather quickly, and am by the time you read this escorting some rather attractive ladies to New York. I suggest you get yourself back there as soon as possible, if you’re interested in a fateful reunion.
    I’ll be in touch.
Malachi Sullivan
    Stefan had the pleasure of hearing her strangled scream as she balled the telegram in her fist. “I hope this is not bad news.”
    “I have to get back to New York. Right away.” The color was back in her face, and raging.
    “Of course. I’ll make the arrangements for you. If there’s anything I can do—”
    “I’ll do it,” she said between her teeth. “You’d better believe I’ll do it.”
    He waited until she’d stormed away, rushing in the direction of the house. Then he sat, picked up his drink, took out his cell phone.
    He enjoyed a grape while he made the call.
    “Jack. I’ll have a very angry woman on my private jet within two hours. No, no,” he said, chuckling as he chose another grape. “It’s been, my friend, and continues to be, my very great pleasure.”
     
     
    SHE GOT HOME to a pile of messages, many of which were from the police and only served to irritate her. She’d spent the hours in the air devising ways she would dispose of Malachi—all of which ended in his bloody, painful death.
    As satisfying as all of them were, Anita was smart enough, and still controlled enough, to know it was essential to find the right time, the right place and the right method.
    She wanted him dead, but she wanted the Fates even more.
    She ordered her servants out of the house. She wanted the place empty. She showered, changed, then contacted Jasper. She broke one of her own cardinal rules by ordering him to come to her home.
    She was dissatisfied with his work and considered disposing of him. It would, she