True Corruption Pt. 03

Sam took a deep breath, and then reached down to help Lily up. She got back on her feet but couldn't look Sam in the eye; she muttered more apologies and picked up the papers she'd dropped.

"Don't worry about it, I wasn't really paying attention either," Sam said curtly. "If you'll excuse me, I need to use the restroom."

"Okay ... I'll just wait here for you, I guess ..." she mumbled.

Sam walked off trying not to show his discomfort, made it to the bathroom and then took care of his business. He looked at himself in the mirror, splashed more water on his face, and sighed. That had been embarrassing, he thought, and he desperately hoped he didn't get a call from HR in the next few days. That was the last thing he needed.

He went back to his desk, and Lily was waiting for him.

"Sam, I am so sorry ..." she started, but Sam cut her off.

"My fault as much as yours, let's forget about it," he said.

"Okay ... that sounds good," she said. "I went and made copies of the clips, and printed some of the microfiche from the library about the Van Hooten murders."

"Excellent," he said. "Give me the short version and I'll read these over when I get a moment."

"The woman, Adeline Crowell, swore that one of the brothers killed the other two with a revolver in a fit of rage over 'possessing' her - I don't know if that had some strange connotation in that time - and then killed himself shortly afterwards. They'd been found in flagrante delicto; she'd had blood all over her, uh, naked body. The servants arrived shortly after they heard the shots. It was quite a scandal - Crowell was apparently married to a fourth man, a local banker named Nathaniel Crowell, and was only 20 years old. He didn't take it too well and made a bit of a scene. She was labeled a sort of femme fatale and shuffled off to a mental institution - a sanitarium back then - and never heard from again."

"Holy shit!" Sam said. "I can't believe I never heard about this!"

"Apparently Adeline's father was a local bigwig and philanthropist, Theodore Hamilton, and it seems like he did all he could to sweep everything under the rug."

Sam went white as a ghost.

"Wha ... what did you say his name was?" Sam said, voice quavering a bit. Lily looked up from her notes.

"Theodore Hamilton ... the Third, actually ... Sam, are you alright?" she said, concern evident on her face as she. "You don't look so good all of a sudden ... "

"Uh, well ... Viv's father is named Theodore Hamilton ... the Fifth," he said.

"Whoa ... do you think there is any relation?" Lily said.

Sam looked at her.

"Yeah, it ain't that big of a city," Sam said. He swiveled his chair, leaned forward and but his elbows on his desk. He closed his eyes and massaged his temples. "This can't be really fucking happening."

Sam just sat there for a moment, silently breathing. Lily stood next to him, unsure what to do.

"So ... should I keep going with the story?" Lily said eventually. Sam turned and looked back up at her.

"God yes, you should keep going," Sam said, not as sure as he had been on what to do. "Keep me updated with anything else you find ... actually, you know what? Follow me."

Sam got up and walked into a meeting room; Lily trailed behind him. Once they were both in he turned and closed the door, then he closed the blinds in the room. Lily just watched him. Finally he turned to her, looked at her a minute, and then sat on the conference room table and motioned her to come stand in front of him.

"Okay, so here's the deal," Sam said in a near whisper. "What I'm about to tell you can tell absolutely no one else, unless I say so directly."

Lily's eyes went wide, but she nodded and leaned forward conspiratorially.

"Miranda and I are actually working on a story about the Van Hooten house too ... it recently got purchased and fixed up by some European guy named Luc Mane, who is having rather, uh, unusual high society parties there."

"Unusual how?" Lily asked.

"Don't you worry about that right now," Sam said. "I want you to keep digging on the Van Hootens, the property ... and I want you to dig about Theodore Hamilton III too. Anyone connected to the whole sordid affair. And don't let anyone in on what you're doing, got it?"

"Got it!" Lily beamed. "This is so exciting!"

Sam reached out to her and put both hands on her shoulders, looking her directly in the eye. Lily's smile faded a bit as he held her gaze.

"Lily, listen to me very carefully," Sam said. "Under no circumstances are you to go up to that house, okay? Don't go up and stand at the end of the driveway, don't even drive down that road. Do you understand me?"

"Sam I don't even have a car," she said quietly.

"More's the better," Sam said. "You definitely do not go walking up there. Don't hire a cab to drive past there. You do not go to the house, period."

"Is ... is it dangerous or something?" Lily stammered out, then her face hardened. "I'm a big girl, Sam, I can handle myself. I'm not some hothouse flower."

"I'm sure you can, and I know you're not." Sam said. "Now promise me you won't go to the house."

"But why, Sam? It seems like this Luc guy would be a key part of the story, I would want to ask him if he knew the history of the house before he bought ..."

Sam tightened his grip on her shoulders, hung his head for a second in frustration that he wasn't impressing his point on her, and then looked back up at her. He slipped his hands to cup her face, and Lily stopped talking.

"Lily, promise me," he said. "It is dangerous, and until I know more I do not want you going up there. Now promise me."

Before he knew what he was doing, he gently brushed his right thumb along her cheekbone. Her eyes softened, and she blinked ... batted her eyelashes, really. Sam realized what he was doing and slowly took his hands away from her face, but he held her gaze.

"Okay, Sam," she said softly. "I promise I won't go up there until you say it's safe."

"And you're not going to tell anybody about the details of what you're working on, right? Just stick to the vague 'crimes of passion' thing."

"And I won't tell anyone," she said.

The conference room door opened, and both Sam and Lily started and turned to see Miranda stride into the room and close the door behind her.

"Oh thank god, I was worried you were in here using your elevated position to inappropriately touch her," Miranda said with a grin. When both of them blinked and didn't say anything, her smile died and she said, "Yikes, that was a joke. Sorry."

"For fuck's sake, Miranda," Sam said, his frustration with her clear. "I see you took your inappropriate pills this morning. What is it?"

"Is she in on it now?" Miranda asked.

"Yeah, she's in on it now," Sam said. "Lily, tell her everything you just told me."

Miranda stood and listened to what Lily had found, and while she listened her fingers on her right hand and ran along her lips as she thought about what Lily was telling her.

"Looks like we might need Viv along for the ride after all," Miranda said and Lily was done.

Sam shook his head. "No we don't," he said. "I'm trying to keep the women I care about away from this thing, not add more to it. Two is already more than enough. I'm happy to keep her not talking to me and away from that house for the time being."

Lily turned and looked at him.

Sam looked at her and shrugged. "We're fighting a little bit."

Miranda said, "Okay, but she's now connected in two ways, the art and the murders."

Sam turned back to look at Miranda.

"Oh, fuck," he said. "Last night you told her to go look at the art, right before she stomped off."

Miranda looked back at him. "Oops. I doubt she'll do it; she's not exactly keen on my ... suggestions at the moment."

Lily just looked at both of them, gears turning.

Miranda said, "Well, at least I've got some good news: Barnes agreed to let me work with you directly on this story, and have someone cover Metro for you while we do it."

Sam perked up. "Wow," he said. "How'd you pull that one off? You didn't have to use the trump card, did you?"

"Nope," Miranda said with a big grin. "Much better: I climbed up on his desk, spread my legs wide and told him I'd let him eat my pussy if he put me on the investigative team on an interim basis, effective immediately. Let's just say the pervert really lapped that up."

Lily blinked at her, eyes as wide as saucers, then went white, and then began to teeter on her feet. Sam reached out to steady her, and she leaned into him for a second. She righted herself, ran her hands down the front of her skirt, and started to turn a shade of deep red. She looked down at the floor and started to breathe quickly.

"Jesus Christ, Miranda!" Sam burst out. "Are you kidding me?"

"What?" Miranda, said, looking between Sam and Lily. "I thought you said she was in on it?"

"Yeah, well I didn't tell her all of it, about your ... changes," he said in a harsh whisper. "Just that we were working on a story about the house and the guy who bought it."

"Well how the fuck was I supposed to know?" Miranda said. She turned to Lily.

"I went to a soiree at the guy's house two nights ago, and there was a sex party I didn't realize was going to happen with half the city's elites involved, and we think he did something to my mind where I now think about sex constantly and have nearly no problem acting upon my most inappropriate desires," she said, as if she was explaining a movie she caught on cable last night.

Miranda turned back to Sam. "I figured I might as well use it to my advantage and expedite things so we can figure out why I'm compelled to live out my deepest fantasies in real life. Plus, now I've got a little juice on Barnes - so to speak - to make sure he's extra cooperative. Plus, he wasn't half bad."

Sam put his head in his hands. "Unbelievable," he said.

"You ... you liked it?" Lily asked Miranda tentatively.

"Sure, what's not to like about a guy licking your pussy, thinking he's the luckiest guy in the world while he's doing it?" Miranda said with a shrug. "He gave full effort, that's for sure. The hardest part was keeping quiet so the whole floor didn't know what was happening."

"I ... see," Lily said. Her flush was turning redder, and she let out a little shiver.

Sam looked up.

"Do you?" Sam said. "Do you see now why I don't want you to go up there? This guy Luc, he can change you, compel you to do things you know you shouldn't do ..."

"... and you care about me," Lily said.

"... yes, Lily, and I care about you, and I don't want you doing things you'll regret or get you harmed."

"I don't regret ..." Miranda started

"Shut the fuck up, Randi," Sam said. "Don't even fucking start, I mean it."

"Well, I don't ... " she murmured.

"Lily, why don't you get back to work and see what you can uncover," Sam said forcefully. "Circle back with me before you leave today. And remember, you're not talking to anyone about this but me and Randi."

"Okay, Sam," Lily said, and opened the door to leave. She looked back at him for a minute, then at Miranda, and then walked out and closed the door behind her.

Sam turned back to Miranda.

"Randi, she did not need to know ... "

"... oh yes she did, Sam," Miranda cut him off with a wave. "She deserves to know fully what we're getting her into. And she's a young, tough professional journalist who I'm sure can handle herself. Shrinking violets don't make it too long in this business. If what you want to do is protect her than you should be telling her the truth."

Sam looked at his friend, and then wiped his hand down his face, trying to clear his head.

"Maybe you're right, Randi," he said. "I just wish that had gone ... differently."

"No use worrying about that now," she said. "Come on, we've got work to do. I put in a call to Luc to ask about doing an article on his collection, and he said he'd be happy to have us to talk about it."

"Did he say we could do the story, or just that he'd talk about it?" Sam said. "There's a world of difference between those two."

"He said he had some parameters he wanted to discuss, but that you could come and take a few pictures and we'd settle on something," Miranda said.

"When did he say we could come?" Sam asked.

"He said tonight would be best," Miranda said.

Sam just looked at her. Suddenly this whole plan had gone from theory to reality.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Sam asked her.

"I am, yes," she said. "I believe it's the only way to understand this thing and get it under control. Are you?"

"I don't know," Sam answered truthfully. "I really just don't know."

***

A few hours later they were in Sam's car on the way to the Van Hooten house. A persistent, cold autumn drizzle was falling, and the whole world seemed to be grey or brown as the evening approached dusk. It suited Sam's mood just fine. His mind was mired in the muck of apprehension, and the cold and persistent tingle of fear kept his stomach clenched.

Along with his backpack and laptop, he had a digital DSLR with him that belonged to the paper, his notepad and a few pencils. Miranda, sitting in the passenger seat, stared out the window as Sam's little sedan slowly slid around the hills and curves on the way to the outskirts of town. Sam finally broke the silence.

"Randi, we need to gameplan about how we're going to get out of there if things go south on us," he said.

She sighed and turned to look at him. Sam rarely let tense moments get to him, she thought, but there were the straight line of his compressed lips and the furrows in his brow.

"Okay, what were you thinking?" she asked. "You don't think we're in any actual physical danger, do you?"

"We might be, Randi," he said. "What if we uncover something he really wants to remain hidden? I am going there to snoop around as much as possible and see if we can find any details that make this make any sense. Spiders rarely let flies get away after they're tangled in the web."

"That really isn't the vibe I get from him. I think ... I think physical violence is like, beneath him. But I see your point," she said. "Do we need some sort of signal, like a hand gesture or something? Do you want me to tug on my earlobe or whatever?"

Sam shook his head. He was getting the impression that Miranda thought this was all just a marvelous game, something from the movies where the heroes breeze in and out of these situations without coming to any real harm.

"No, I don't think so," he said. "But if either of us starts to feel unduly uncomfortable, or even worse, the slightest sort of compulsion to do things we know we shouldn't, we need to say something and leave. And the other person has to respect the call and go. We've only got each other in this, Randi, and we have to work as a team."

"Okay," she said. "But that means you have to extra special on the lookout Sam. I think I've got the mental fortitude to fight off any new compulsion. But I've had experience with that for years and years trying to stay sober, and I can recognize his particular flavor of it from the other evening. You ... you don't have the same experience. So keep your head as clear as you can, and ask yourself questions about what's normal and what isn't whenever you're in doubt."

"Got it," Sam said. "So what types of evidence are we looking for here exactly?"

Miranda smiled and put her hand on Sam's shoulder reassuringly.

"That's what I've been thinking about this whole time," she said. "We want to find any link to Luc's past before he came to town and joined high society. We want to find any connections he has to folks at high levels of government - other than the fact that they're on his invite list - or anyone who wasn't at the party on Monday. We want to find any personal details that we can, no matter how mundane they might seem to us now. I feel like one little thing will break this open for us. And I think we want to find how he's doing what he's doing, and if there is any way to counteract it."

"Hopefully we can find that last part without having to experience it first hand any more than you already have," Sam said.

"I really think we need access to the parts of the house I haven't seen," she said. "The library, the parlor, the conservatory, those are all entertaining rooms and won't have too much personal detail. The good stuff is always in the back."

"Good god, Randi, are we in a real life game of Clue?" Sam said, and turned to look at her with a quick grin before bringing his eyes back to the road.

"Almost feels that way, right?" she said with a laugh. "Fortunately nobody has died so far, I don't think. But I totally get to be Miss Scarlet."

"I guess that makes me Colonel Mustard?" Sam said.

"I was thinking more like Mrs. Peacock," Miranda said, giving him a good nudge with her elbow.

"Ha right," he said. "I'm pretty sure the butler did it, anyway. Wait ... Randi! The house has staff, right?"

"Yeah ... I don't follow," she said. "So what?"

"Well not every employee loves their boss - quite literally in your case - and maybe we can get some details out of one of them," he said.

"Eww, I certainly don't love Barnes," she said, making a face. "He loves eating pussy, though, I can tell you that. Anyway, it's worth a try but be careful what you say to whom. I get the impression Luc is the type of boss that engenders - and values - loyalty."

"Agreed, it was just an angle I hadn't considered," he said.

They sat in silence for a while, and then Miranda put her hand back on Sam's shoulder and left it there.

"Sam," she said. "Thank you. For believing me, for coming with me, for everything."

"Randi, this is what friends are for, and you're the best one I've got," he said.

"You really need to work on that," she said. "I'm kind of a lousy friend."

"Hope springs eternal," Sam said with a smile. "And you have your moments."

They pulled up to the estate's long driveway and found the gates open.

"Ready for this?" Sam asked.

"Let's do it," Miranda answered.

They drove down the driveway and plunged into the home of Luc Mane.

As they reached the end of the driveway and approached the house, they saw there was a large thick-necked man in a suit and trench coat waiting for them, holding an umbrella big enough for both of them. The rain was still only a drizzle, but the gesture was welcoming, no doubt as intended.

Sam got out and the man walked over to him, giving him the umbrella.

"If you'll allow me, I'll bring your car around to the garage and retrieve it for you when you depart, sir," he said pleasantly. "I'll leave you to escort the lady to the front door."

Sam shrugged, grabbed his gear one-handed, and then walked over and opened the door for Miranda. She was still wearing her ludicrously ill-suited red heels, but she picked her way across the crushed stone driveway with aplomb and grace.

Together they approached the door, which was opened by an older gentleman in a suit and they were ushered inside. He took the umbrella, shook it out and then closed the door behind him.

"Welcome back, Miss Havens," he said, bowing to Miranda, "And welcome for the first time, Mr. ... "

"Stone," Sam said, taking the butler's hand for a firm shake, "Sam Stone."

"Welcome Mr. Stone," the butler said. "Mr. Mane is waiting for you in the library."

Sam had a quick look around while the butler took Miranda's coat. Miranda was right, this place was a lot bigger on the inside than it seemed from the outside, and the interior decorators had done well. The butler escorted them to two large oaken double doors, ornately carved, and slid them open noiselessly.

They were greeted first by a blast of heat as the doors open. Across the room Sam could see a fire roaring in a large fireplace. It crackled and also gave off a pleasant smoky aroma that mingled with what smelled like pipe tobacco.