Diamond Eyes- A Novella, Page 3

  Annabell

  Eventually I become embarrassed about breaking down so thoroughly in front of Hans. I pull back.

  "I'm sorry I bothered you with all this."

  "Don't be." he says, with an intensity that surprises me. He gently takes my head in his hands and turns it so that I am gazing directly into his brilliant blue eyes.

  "Don't ever be afraid to tell me about your troubles." Hans says, as his eyes burn into mine.

  I nod. "But you must promise me one thing in return."

  "Anything." he vows.

  "Promise you will always tell me if anything is troubling you."

  For an almost imperceptible instant, Hans freezes. Then his face thaws and he smiles.

  "Of course."

  We kiss lightly and then make our way down to breakfast.

  Hans plays with my hair as I pick at a plate of scrambled eggs. I should be starving after skipping dinner last night, but I don’t seem to have any appetite.

  Mr. Renaldo (the man from the ballet studio) comes to join us. After quickly giving him my black eye cover story, I introduce him to Hans and they begin to talk happily about London.

  "You live in London?" I interrupt them, turning to stare at Hans.

  "Yes I do." Hans says, and I can't believe I missed such an important fact about him. And if all goes as planned, I'll be living in London pretty soon too!

  Chapter 10: Bursting the Bubble

  Hans

  The next few days speed by. Bella has no more troubles with her family and I begin to relax. I am happy, so happy. I feel as if I am in a brilliant bubble of joy. And right now, Cody is in serious danger of popping it.

  He stands in front of me, hands on hips, a scowl painted across his face.

  "I saw you kissing Rufus Delancey's daughter this morning." Cody accuses me. "What were you THINKING? You’re mixing your job with your personal life and that is NOT ACCEPTABLE. Were you planning to explain any of this to her before we finish up here?”

  "Yes, I am planning to tell her." I say quietly.

  "Oh yeah? When? Dude, the job’s almost done. You GOTTA STOP WAITING AROUND!"

  "Fine, fine." I sigh. I know he's right. But remember my happy little bubble? Oh yeah, it just burst.

  Annabell

  These last few days have been the best of my life. I'm almost floating with joy as I hurry around the room. I choose a delicate sky blue sundress and carefully apply makeup while Sylvia curls my hair.

  Sylvia's caught onto my good mood too. She's humming a catchy tune as she artfully twists my hair out of the curlers.

  The moment she's done, I'm out of there and searching the hallways for Hans. But when I do find him, his face is all wrong. His usual brilliant smile is gone and has been replaced by a weak imitation.

  "Bella, remember when I promised that I'd say if anything that was troubling me?" Hans says, his voice urgent.

  "Yes."

  "Well, I have something important to tell you right now." his voice is stressed, and he's talking very quickly.

  "Hans, what is it? Is something wrong?"

  He lays a finger over my lips and then leads me down the hallway to room number 13. He unlocks it and ushers me quickly inside. I enter uncertainly. Hans gives the hallway a jumpy scan before closing the door and turning the deadbolt. The lock clicks shut with loud finality.

  Suddenly I am uneasy. I’ve only known Hans for five days, how do I know I can trust him? This seems like some sort of trap...should I run while I have the chance?

  "Whatever you think of this, you must only whisper." Hans tells me in hushed tones. He kneels down before me and takes my hand. "You must promise to never repeat a word of this to anyone else." His eyes burn into my own with deep passion. All my fears melt away. Of course I can trust Hans.

  "I promise." I whisper.

  He sits beside me, and begins to spin a tale that seems absolutely unbelievable. I would doubt every word of it if not for the sincerity that so clearly rings from Hans' voice.

  "Before I turned 10, I never understood why my father was gone so much. It seemed natural that he carried a gun. I loved his ever-present dark glasses. After the age of 5, I got my own pair and wore them everywhere. A private jet took us on every vacation. We visited remote islands, filled with people that looked oddly familiar. Some of them could have been twins to my favourite film stars. One time, a man tried to pick my father's pocket. With one easy twist of his arm, my father pushed the man off him and flung him to the ground. The man was knocked unconscious. I should have pieced it together then..." Hans trails off, lost in memories.

  "But I didn't figure it out then. I didn't figure it out until my father's funeral. It was held in a private room with no windows. Everyone who attended wore a gun belt and there were armed guards barricaded against the single door. The pastor went on and on about my father's great deeds to the country; his great deeds as a spy. A spy? A spy? I was so confused, and then I was angry with my father for never telling me. I became hysterical halfway through the ceremony and I had to leave.

  "I learned everything, then. I learned how my father was a MI5 agent. I learned how my father wanted to tell me everything, but he couldn't. If I had known, I would have been in danger. I vowed then that someday I would become a MI5 agent myself. I wanted to follow in my father's footsteps. He was, and still is, my greatest idol.

  "I did become a MI5 agent, and a young one at that. By the age of 18, I was admitted into the agency. Ever since then, I have been on numerous missions. All of them have been under the utmost secrecy and involved huge variations in crimes. And my most recent assignment was to investigate your father.”

  I gasp quietly and turn to stare at Hans. But I say nothing, and motion for him to continue with his story. Hans smiles wryly, and then begins to speak again.

  "Six days ago, a very valuable Fancy Red diamond was stolen from a British politician visiting the US. At the time, I also happened to be in the US working on a case, along with my partner Cody. We were called to investigate the missing diamond. On the third day of our search, we received an anonymous phone tip off that Rufus Delancey had stolen the diamond and was storing it in a small silver locket.”

  “What?” I burst out, forgetting to be quiet.

  “Shhhh” Hans warns me.

  “Sorry.” I whisper.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He tells me, and then continues with the story “My partner and I began to look at Rufus Delancey’s records and realized that he was very in debt and had been out of work for over 5 years.”

  “5 years?” I whisper incredibly. “I didn’t know that! He left every day and told us he was going to work. I wonder where he was going...”

  “Oh, I can answer that question for you.” Hans told me grimly, “People testified to seeing your father almost every day at a certain local pub.”

  I nod, and somehow this doesn’t surprise me. My dad’s mood had gone steeply downhill in the last five years. His rages, which had been rare before, had suddenly started occurring every few days.

  “Anyways, your father used up all the family money and started getting very into debt. But suddenly, about a month before the theft, your father received a massive deposit of about $10751. He was still going to the local pub regularly and no one had any record of how he had received the money. We suspected it was an advance payment from someone overseas for the diamond theft. We also found that he was planning to leave on a cruise for London the next day. It was a first class cruise, and we still had no idea how he had gotten the money. Also, he did not buy a return ticket. These circumstances, along with the tip-off, were strong enough evidence that Cody and I decided to follow your family onto the cruise.

  “I watched constantly for Mrs Annabell Delancey after we boarded the cruise. People said that she wore her silver locket everywhere, meaning it was going to be very hard to retrieve. So when the dance came around on the first night of our cruise, I naturally looked for a woman with a silver locket necklace. I mistook yo
u for your mother and asked you to dance. While we were dancing, I slipped the locket off from around your neck.”

  “You stole the locket?” I asked incredulously. I realized I should be mad at him, but I couldn’t seem to summon up any feelings of anger.

  "I can never, ever, forgive myself for stealing that locket." Hans tells me, his eyes full of pain. "I caused this." he says, gently touching my fading bruise. "It torments me. How can I ever be forgiven?"

  "But you are forgiven." I quickly tell him. I can't stand the horrible pain that clouds his face. "I stole the necklace, it's my fault."

  "Please don't say that." he begs, "It was my fault, and I take the full blame."

  "Stop it." I order, taking his face in my hands. "I refuse to allow you to feel such guilt over my stupid mistake. Your pain is my pain. As long as you continue to torment yourself so much over this, I cannot be happy. Please. Promise me you will forget about this."

  Hans looks at me for a full minute before finally nodding. "I promise."

  "Good." I say. "Now please continue your story. I apologize for my interruption."

  "No apology is necessary." he kisses my hands before speaking again.

  "The locket contained the stolen diamond. The diamond is only 4-carats, but since it is a Fancy Red diamond, it is still very valuable. It is probably worth at least $200,0002. Since the diamond was so small, it could fit perfectly into the necklace. Cody and I filed a report by telephone. The warrant for the arrest should arrive any day now." Hans concludes, looking pityingly into my face.

  "Really?" I say, not even daring to hope.

  "Really." he says gravely.

  "That's wonderful!" I exclaim, a huge grin spreading across my face.

  "Wonderful?" Hans asks clearly confused. "Bella, did you hear me right? I just said was going to arrest your father!"

  "I heard you just fine. And I'm nothing short of overjoyed." I tell him with feeling. "All my life I've longed for escape from my father. That's exactly what you are providing me. I am so happy!"

  "But aren't you mad at me for not telling you that I'm an MI5 agent?"

  "Well, I wish you'd told me sooner of course! But now I know, and that's all that matters."

  A huge grin spreads across his face. "I can't believe you're happy about all of this!"

  I throw my arms around him. "I can't wait until the warrant arrives!"

  Chapter 11: The Fight

  Hans

  The warrant arrives late that night. Cody and I prepare ourselves for the raid.

  Annabell

  I lie in bed and can't sleep. Thoughts keep swirling through my head. "My dad is a diamond thief. He will be arrested within the next few days. Then I'll be free!"

  Suddenly my thoughts are interrupted by the voices of my parents in the neighbouring sitting room.

  "She must be asleep by now." my father says.

  "I'll go check." my mother murmurs to him.

  I hear her feet sneaking towards my door. I close my eyes and try to breath regularly. I must have passed her inspection because I hear her closing the door and her feet pad back to the sitting room. As soon as my mother returns to the room, I hear my father begin speaking.

  "I think they're onto us. The locket must have been stolen due to Annabell's carelessness. The locket hasn't been returned yet, which has made me really suspicious. Anyone who found it could have reported the diamond."

  "What are you going to do?" my mother asks.

  I hear the sound of rustling. My father must pull something out because I hear a woman (Mother) gasp.

  "I'm gonna kill them." he says, in a voice that chills me to the bones. "A gun is too loud, but this knife will do the trick. I'll throw them overboard, and no one will be able to trace it back to us.

  I'm desperate now. If my parents would just fall asleep, then I could go and warn Hans! My heart is pounding. I have always known my father is cruel, but I never thought he was a murderer.

  Time drags by so slowly. My heart is racing and a fear for Hans consumes me. I don't care about my own safety. I am about to give up waiting and just leave, even though my parents may still be awake.

  And that's when I hear the pounding at our front door.

  Father swings open my door and drags me out by the hair, his other hand over my mouth. He pushes me in the small hallway to the sitting room, where we remain concealed behind the closed door. I hit at him, struggling to get away. That is, until I feel the knife blade pressed to my neck.

  "Don't move a muscle." Father hisses at me.

  The front door opens and two people step inside.

  "You're under arrest." an all too familiar voice begins to say.

  That's when my father drags me out into the sitting room. I don't dare struggle; the knife is too tight against my throat.

  "Drop your weapons, hands up." my father orders. "That is, unless you want me to kill the girl."

  I hear the gasp as Hans sees the blade held at my neck. My father has dropped the hand that once covered my mouth and I finally find my voice.

  "Don't do it, Hans. He'll kill you both. I'm not worth it." I beg "Please."

  The idea of Hans no longer existing is too painful to even contemplate.

  I see the resolve in his eyes. Before I can say another word, a gun drops to the ground and Hans' hands are in the air. Cody's gun clatters to the floor as well. A man I've never known is giving his life to save me.

  "Pick it up. Pick your gun back up!" I scream. But Hans just shakes his head and stares calmly into my eyes.

  He's such an idiot, doesn't he know he's about to die?

  "Tie them up." my father orders. Rope is wound around their hands. My mother pushes them into another room and the door is locked.

  I am desperate. My own life matters little.

  The man who always wins is still clutching a knife to my throat.

  "You're not winning this time." I mutter to myself. Then I kick back hard, straight between my father's legs, and twist out from under his grip. I reach out desperately for the guns on the floor, but my mother has already collected them.

  "Not so fast." she tells me, her voice quavering slightly.

  My father's on the ground and the knife is still clutched in his hands. I have only a matter of seconds before he stands again to re-join the fight.

  "You don't want to kill me." I say, slowly advancing on my mother. The guns quiver, but remain pointed at my face. "How's this going to help you? He’s going to jail. Your husband is going to jail. You can either choose to go with him, or stay here with me, your daughter."

  The resolve flickers in my mother’s eyes. I watch the indecision pass over her face as my words begin to sink in. Then suddenly, my mother is sobbing. "I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry" she keeps on repeating. I don’t know if she’s apologizing to my father for turning on him, or if she’s apologizing for almost murdering her only daughter. All I know is that she turns and chucks the guns straight out the balcony door and into the ocean.

  Too late, she realizes her mistake. The man my mother once loved is gone. He has been replaced by some horrible monster; a monster that would rather commit murders than face a jail sentence. And the monster is back on his feet. The father who has tormented me endlessly for the last 16 years has a knife is in his hands.

  "Go get help." I murmur to my mother. She leaves right away.

  I turn to my father, whose face is murderous with rage.

  I pick up the first thing I find. It is a chair, and I hurl it at him. He dodges it and advances on me slowly, like a cougar stalking its prey.

  “This is all your fault, honey.” He sneers, his voice as greasy as an oil slick.

  “No its not!” I scream at him, pent up anger from all those horrible years beginning to flow out in a torrent. “You haven’t worked for five YEARS! You used up all our money getting DRUNK! You freaking STOLE the diamond, all this is most certainly your fault!” I pick up another chair and hurl it at him. The chair breaks apart into dainty li
ttle splinters, but it doesn’t seem to have done much in slowing Father.

  He cocks his head and a nasty grin spreads across his face.

  “Oh, so you know about all that? It must have been lover-boy in there who told you.” He gestures vaguely at the room in which Hans and Cody are trapped. “No worries, I’ll finish them off too after I’m done with you.”

  When I think back about what gave me the courage to do what I did next, I know it was that last line from my father. I remember that I listened to the music of the ocean waves outside the ship, and relied on that symphony to get me through the most dangerous moments of my life.

  “This is just dancing.” I told myself, “Listen to the chorus of the sea and let the music become one with you.”

  I leapt cat-like across the room at my father. Startled, he stumbled backwards a few steps, and then quickly righted himself.

  I was light on my toes and ready when the first stab came. I leaped out of the way and it missed me by inches. The waves were pounding in my head, a chaotic war of sound. I let the rhythm overcome me. I would not allow myself to be seized by terror. I was younger and smarter and faster than him. I could overcome him.

  I wasn’t ready when he followed by two quick jabs. I jumped away from the first one, but the second strike grazed my cheek. Blood poured down, and my father sensed an easy victory. Leering wickedly at me, my father leaned in for a final strike. I knew what was coming, but I faked oblivion. It was essential to my plan, the only thing I could think of to keep me alive.

  Waves crashed in my ears and my throbbing pulse joined the orchestra. I counted “one, two, three” and heard as the whistling knife made its solo into the pulsating music. This was my cue, and I made myself fall directly backwards.

  My father laughed wickedly. For one moment, he believed I was dead. For one moment, he believed his knife had stabbed me. That one moment was all I needed. I reached out my hand and grabbed the knife.

  “You’re under arrest.” I told him, as I jumped lightly to my feet and pressed the knife against his throat.

  *****

  Epilogue

  I gently closed Hans’ book and passed it carefully over to our daughter, Hannah. It turned out that Hans really was a writer, just like I’d always believed. I’d asked him to write our story, so our children and grandchildren could learn about passion, hate and above all, love.