Chapter 32

"M iss Chesterton, what kind of young lady allows a man to kiss her in the afternoon and accuses him of murder mere hours later?" Xander Ashby asked sardonically. He had turned his own torch on and used it to find the room's electric light.

When the room was illuminated, Melody's first thought was that the golden retriever seemed to have disappeared and had been replaced by a far more ferocious, snarling breed. Even the floppy hair seemed to be under tight control. Looking at the man pointing a gun at them, whose mouth was set in a nasty sneer, Melody wasn't sure how she had ever thought Xander too sweet and docile even to be considered a killer. This Xander Ashby looked more than capable of putting a bullet through someone's heart while enjoying doing so.

Rat was still holding his gun but had lowered his arm. He was a decent shot but knew that he wasn't quick or sure enough to try to shoot at Xander before he shot back. Certainly, he wouldn't risk Melody being shot to try.

Xander saw his movement and said, "Drop your gun, Mr Sandworth. Then, without making any sudden movements, kick it over here." Rat complied, and Xander picked up the revolver and put it in his pocket.

"Meine Liebe," a female voice called out.

"Here, my dove," Xander replied.

The young woman from the party joined Xander in the doorway. When Martha Peetz had first been pointed out to Melody, she hadn't taken much time to assess the young Austrian woman. Now, Melody realised that she was very pretty. The woman had white, blond curly hair and cornflower blue eyes framed with long, golden lashes.

Just as if they were all meeting at a society ball, Xander said, "Miss Melody Chesterton, let me introduce you to Fr?ulein Martha Peetz." He paused, then added with a malicious little smirk, "And the great love of my life."

Melody knew she shouldn't have taken the bait, but she just couldn't help herself: "Does the great love of your life know that mere hours ago, you asked whether you might court me?"

Martha laughed. It was a tinkling laugh that grated on Melody's nerves. "Of course I know. It was my idea, after all."

"Why?" was all that Melody could sputter.

Instead of answering, Xander looked at his watch and said, "We do not have much time. That doddering father of yours will be here shortly. We need to be ready."

Looking around the room, Martha said, "Untie the rope that is around that painting leaning against the wall and bind their hands and feet." As Xander obeyed her command, the woman continued, "I would have you shoot them now, but I am afraid that my father might be nearby and will hear the shots. We cannot afford to spook him. As soon as we have dealt with him, you can turn your gun on these two."

Returning with the rope, Xander gave Martha the gun while he tied Melody and Rat's feet together and their hands behind their back. As soon as they were somewhat incapacitated, she said, "You can finish this up alone, I want to keep an eye out for my darling papa. Do not forget to find something to gag them with. We don't need them sounding the alert." And with that, she turned and left.

With Martha gone, Melody asked, "Why are you doing this, Xander? Why have you betrayed your country?"

As Xander searched the room for some material to use as a gag, he laughed nastily and replied, "My country? My mother is Austrian. Who is to say that I'm not aiding my country?"

Melody did not realise this about Xander. Nevertheless, she continued, "You were born in Britain. You come from an old, aristocratic family."

"And what has that done for me? Left me so poor that I had to take a job serving that snivelling toady Burrows. A man who is not fit to clean my shoes. If my dear uncle hadn't taken it upon himself to marry that chit of a girl, Burrows would be genuflecting before me and calling me milord. As it is, I have to bring him cups of tea and call him sir."

Xander stopped his search, turned and said, "You cannot even imagine the pittance the British Government pays me for kowtowing to that idiot. The Austrian government, by contrast, has paid me a lot of money for my assistance."

Addressing Rat, he said, "We had warning that the Secret Service Bureau was sending a new young operative. As soon as I met you and your charming sister at Lady Bainbridge's and you told me your name was Sandworth, I suspected that you were our man. Feigning interest in your sister was such an easy way to keep tabs on you both. I was just waiting for the right moment to unmask you for certain before reporting back to my Austrian overlords." He said this last part with renewed bitterness that made Melody believe he felt no more loyalty to Austria than he did to Britain.

The part of Xander's speech that caught Rat's ear was that his identity hadn't been exposed yet. If they could escape from the ropes and turn the tables on Xander and Martha Peetz, there was still time to save his career in the Secret Service Bureau.

Melody felt compelled to ask at least one more question before Xander gagged her; "Why is Fr?ulein Peetz working against her father?" To Melody, who had but the faintest memories of her parents, the idea of betraying a living one was unthinkable.

"Peetz is an old fool, and he really is a traitor. Martha is a proud Austrian who wants the empire to gain back all the Italian soil that it rightfully should have," Xander proclaimed, seemingly unaware or unconcerned about the blatant contradiction in his statement.

Melody could not let the discrepancy stand: "If it is Italian soil, then how can Austria-Hungary claim sovereignty over it?"

Xander looked at her with disdain, "Why don't you ask the people of Scotland, Wales and Ireland how that works?" It took Melody a moment to see his point. Still, even then, she refused to believe that King George's rule over the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland was not completely different from Emperor Franz Joseph's imperial ambitions throughout Europe.

Whatever additional questions Melody might have liked to ask, once Xander finally found a grubby-looking rag, it was evident that her time was limited. He ripped the rag lengthwise and then moved towards them.

Melody couldn't believe that Xander was so good an actor that he felt nothing for her. Hoping to appeal to whatever affection he might feel for her, however slight, she pleaded, "Xander, please. I thought that we were friends, at least. Are you really planning to kill me?"

She had been hoping for some hesitation, for a moment of doubt, however brief. However, she heard no indecision in the meanspirited laugh he barked out. "Friends? Is that what you think we were? You believed that I was your infatuated lapdog. I will admit that your fortune was appealing, but that aside, you do not stand up to comparison with my darling Martha. You are a pathetic spoilt child, and she is a magnificent, spirited woman."

Xander's words hurt more than Melody wanted to admit. She knew that this blow to her pride should be the last thing on her mind at that moment. Nevertheless, she felt tears sting her eyes at the cruel blows her supposed suitor seemed to take great pleasure pummelling her with.

Finally, Xander took the two sections of rag and tied one around Melody's mouth and the other around Rat's. The material tasted of dust and mould, and it made Melody gag. Satisfied with his handiwork, Xander turned and left. Whether through some final prick of conscience or, more likely, forgetfulness, he did at least leave the light on overhead.

Rat had gone through a range of training in preparation for this assignment, and one had dealt with how to handle himself in such a situation. As Xander approached him with the gag, Rat had opened his mouth slightly and tilted his head forward. Doing this prevented the gag from being tied as tightly or positioned as effectively as possible. Now, Rat listened for Xander's footsteps on the staircase, and when he was sure the other man must be sufficiently far away, Rat used his tongue to work on the slack his machinations had allowed for. Finally, the gag was out of his mouth.

In contrast to Rat's training in escaping from capture, Xander seemed like a novice when it came to restraining prisoners. He had made Melody and Rat sit on the cement floor of the storage room before tying them up but hadn't bothered to tether them to anything. Rat wiggled his way across the short distance between them until his side was positioned by Melody's tied hands.

"Melody," he whispered, "I have a knife in my jacket pocket. I'm as close to you as I can get. See if you can reach in and get it."

While Melody hadn't received the benefit of secret service training, it had been obvious to her that she should try to keep her hands as far apart as possible while Xander was binding them. Because of this foresight, she had a certain amount of flexibility in how much she could move her hands now. In addition, the rope that Xander had taken from around the painting was not a thick, sturdy one but rather more string-like. As she wiggled her hands, Melody realised she could move more than she imagined she'd be able to.

Despite a degree of mobility, her hands were tied behind her back, so she couldn't see what she was doing. Rat had a limited view but tried to guide her as best he could. As she stretched her hands into his pocket, the bindings chafed, and her wrists and shoulders ached from the strain of reaching back. After a few minutes, Melody managed to grab hold of the knife between her fore and middle finger, only to have it slip out onto the floor between her and Rat.

Exasperated at herself, Melody felt like screaming. She needn't have feared. As soon as Rat heard the knife drop, he wriggled around again until his back was almost against Melody's. Then, he felt around on the floor as best he could. Just as he was losing hope, he found the knife and managed to pick it up. He was grateful that the blade easily sprung up at the slight press of a knob on the handle.

Now that Rat had a knife in his hand, the really challenging part was ahead: he had to cut Melody's ropes without wounding her hands. A wrong move, and he might accidentally slash one of her wrists. Luckily, there was now enough slack in Melody's bindings that, with a little more effort, she was able to hold her hands somewhat apart, enabling her brother to saw at a piece of binding without her flesh in his way. Even so, neither of them could see what he was doing.

Rat merely grazed at her bindings for fear that any more drastic movement would risk him cutting his sister. It felt like an eternity of slow, almost gentle shaving at the rope when, suddenly, it fell into two pieces. Xander's knots were sufficiently ineptly tied that this was all Melody needed to free her hands. She found the knife on the floor, cut her ankles free, pulled out her gag, and then liberated Rat.

"Well, that's a start," Rat said. "Good job. But what now? He has my gun."

"But he doesn't have mine," Melody said, pulling it out of her pocket. "It must never have occurred to him that a pathetic spoilt child might be carrying a weapon." She tried and failed to keep the bitterness out of her voice.