[tm] Alexander McCall Smith quote
[Set in Shelter. Michael is feel_theburn and Dean is silvr_moonbeams. Set after THIS and THIS.]
“The problem, of course, was that people did not seem to understand the difference between right and wrong. They needed to be reminded about this, because if you left it to them to work it out themselves, they would never bother. They would just find what was best for them, and then they would call that the right thing. That's how most people thought.”
Bela didn’t use her given name for a lot of things.
Her professional aliases were more than adequate, but if there were situations when she wanted to distance herself from Bela the thief, just to avoid attracting undo attention to things like her children and her family. Abigail Westen were on all her legal papers when she was need of a clean background check, and she didn’t have any fingerprints to worry about, but the name Bela Talbot still had quite the reputation attached to it. And when it came down to it, fact of the matter was that Bela Talbot was still a very dangerous woman, especially when it came to her family. Even more so when it came to her husband.
For the longest time, Michael was her everything. He had become her world based solely on the fact that she didn’t have anyone else, at all. Now, thirty years down the line, someone had tried to take him away from her, and that was a situation she wouldn’t abide. Add to the fact that he had hired someone, and pretty much assured himself that the police would never get to him, and she was even more determined to take care of matters herself.
Dean had already came and went with the package in question, taking the time to question her to make sure that she knew what she was doing, but there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that this was the right thing to do. People deserved to pay for the pain they caused. MacMillian was no different. But Dean had made her promise him that when this was over, certain arrangements would be made, and she would stand by that. But for right now, she needed to take care of business. And to be honest, she was surprised at how easy it was.
“It’s from the sixteenth century. Very rare. There are only a few of them left in existence.” She had the briefcase open in front of her, displaying the antique watch she had brought with her for the job. “It’s quite a high sum of money, but I think that it’s worth it, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure,” the man said slowly, his fingers crossed in front of him as he considered the watch in front of him. It was really a very beautiful piece, all things considered. If she hadn’t known what it was capable of, she would have probably kept it for herself. “The price does seem a little-extravagant.”
“Mr. MacMillian,” she began, doing her best to keep her professional business tone as she spoke. “This piece isn’t just a watch. It’s a small piece of history that has survived over five hundred years in order to find its way into your hands. This is an opportunity. One that I’m sure you don’t want to pass up.”
He watched her carefully for a moment, before reaching forward, taking the watch into his hand as he looked it over. She tried to keep herself composed, watching him as he studied the piece in his hand. She knew he’d take it. There was something about the status that a man like him couldn’t resist. Something about the appeal of something that was a sign of prestige that he couldn’t say no to. And that was all that it took.
“You’re right,” he said softly, and her ears picked up the subtle click and whirl of the watch starting to wind itself. “I’ll take it. Where would you like me to send the money?”
She gave him the account number, before placing the case down on the table with a slow smile. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”
“And you, Ms. Talbot.”
***
A few days later, like clockwork, she found the notice in the morning paper. Eric MacMillian, CEO of MacMillian Investments, dead on his desk from heart failure. She couldn’t help the slow smile that crossed her face as she reached for the phone to dial Dean’s number. There was a few rings before the sleepy voice answered the phone.
“Yeah?”
“It’s done,” she said quietly. “His office should remain intact for a few days. I can assume that you know how to get inside.”
“Yeah, I think I can handle it. I’ll let you know when it’s taken care of.”
He hung up after that, and she placed her phone back down on the table, before going back to the paper. There was the soft padding of Michael coming down the stairs, and she knew he wasn’t going to be happy about what she had done, but as far as she was concerned, this was the right thing to do. People deserved to pay for the things they’d done wrong.
How was simply in the eyes of the beholder.
800 words
“The problem, of course, was that people did not seem to understand the difference between right and wrong. They needed to be reminded about this, because if you left it to them to work it out themselves, they would never bother. They would just find what was best for them, and then they would call that the right thing. That's how most people thought.”
Bela didn’t use her given name for a lot of things.
Her professional aliases were more than adequate, but if there were situations when she wanted to distance herself from Bela the thief, just to avoid attracting undo attention to things like her children and her family. Abigail Westen were on all her legal papers when she was need of a clean background check, and she didn’t have any fingerprints to worry about, but the name Bela Talbot still had quite the reputation attached to it. And when it came down to it, fact of the matter was that Bela Talbot was still a very dangerous woman, especially when it came to her family. Even more so when it came to her husband.
For the longest time, Michael was her everything. He had become her world based solely on the fact that she didn’t have anyone else, at all. Now, thirty years down the line, someone had tried to take him away from her, and that was a situation she wouldn’t abide. Add to the fact that he had hired someone, and pretty much assured himself that the police would never get to him, and she was even more determined to take care of matters herself.
Dean had already came and went with the package in question, taking the time to question her to make sure that she knew what she was doing, but there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that this was the right thing to do. People deserved to pay for the pain they caused. MacMillian was no different. But Dean had made her promise him that when this was over, certain arrangements would be made, and she would stand by that. But for right now, she needed to take care of business. And to be honest, she was surprised at how easy it was.
“It’s from the sixteenth century. Very rare. There are only a few of them left in existence.” She had the briefcase open in front of her, displaying the antique watch she had brought with her for the job. “It’s quite a high sum of money, but I think that it’s worth it, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure,” the man said slowly, his fingers crossed in front of him as he considered the watch in front of him. It was really a very beautiful piece, all things considered. If she hadn’t known what it was capable of, she would have probably kept it for herself. “The price does seem a little-extravagant.”
“Mr. MacMillian,” she began, doing her best to keep her professional business tone as she spoke. “This piece isn’t just a watch. It’s a small piece of history that has survived over five hundred years in order to find its way into your hands. This is an opportunity. One that I’m sure you don’t want to pass up.”
He watched her carefully for a moment, before reaching forward, taking the watch into his hand as he looked it over. She tried to keep herself composed, watching him as he studied the piece in his hand. She knew he’d take it. There was something about the status that a man like him couldn’t resist. Something about the appeal of something that was a sign of prestige that he couldn’t say no to. And that was all that it took.
“You’re right,” he said softly, and her ears picked up the subtle click and whirl of the watch starting to wind itself. “I’ll take it. Where would you like me to send the money?”
She gave him the account number, before placing the case down on the table with a slow smile. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”
“And you, Ms. Talbot.”
***
A few days later, like clockwork, she found the notice in the morning paper. Eric MacMillian, CEO of MacMillian Investments, dead on his desk from heart failure. She couldn’t help the slow smile that crossed her face as she reached for the phone to dial Dean’s number. There was a few rings before the sleepy voice answered the phone.
“Yeah?”
“It’s done,” she said quietly. “His office should remain intact for a few days. I can assume that you know how to get inside.”
“Yeah, I think I can handle it. I’ll let you know when it’s taken care of.”
He hung up after that, and she placed her phone back down on the table, before going back to the paper. There was the soft padding of Michael coming down the stairs, and she knew he wasn’t going to be happy about what she had done, but as far as she was concerned, this was the right thing to do. People deserved to pay for the things they’d done wrong.
How was simply in the eyes of the beholder.
800 words