“Here,” one of the men handed him the pipe and Mr. Cypress knew he was expected to take a drag from it.
“What is it?” He asked looking at the long pipe.
“It’s the gate to oblivion,” Mr. Sage confirmed.
Mr. Cypress didn’t want to take the offered pipe but he did and took a drag from it.
“You see?” Said Mr. Sage smiling, his eyes half closed.
Mr. Cypress leaned back on the chaise lounge. This was his penance for what he had done. It was his hell for the hell he had created. He was not a good man, not at all. He had been a menace. Preying on those and now he was the prey.
The door opened and he saw it was the face of Mr. Cedar. The pipe passed between the two men as Mr. Cypress watched them.
“I think we need to be on the lookout for a new proposition,” Mr. Sage said.
“A new business proposition?” Mr. Cypress asked.
The two men smiled in the dark red light.
“How do you like the pipe?” One of them asked him.
???
Malvina walked downstairs to the dining room to join her granddaughter and son at the breakfast table. Her son remained behind his newspaper and Caroline had a piece of paper and pencil and was writing as she sipped her coffee.
“Delightful concert, was it not, Caro?”
Caroline looked at her grandmother who looked back at her with no guile.
“Yes, Gran it was.”
“That Inspector. Most well-bred and a true gentleman I believe,” she added.
“I’m glad you think so.” Caroline said looking away.
“Don’t you?” She countered.
“I do.”
Malvina situated herself across from Caroline and next to Hubert. “And another concert or two wouldn’t hurt you, Caro. You don’t go many places.”
“That’s not true. I go to the museum, the park—“
“I meant with a gentleman caller, dear.” Malvina sipped her coffee.
“He’s not a caller. And you didn’t even want me to go in the beginning.”
“Yes, but that was before we went and before I spent time with him. I think he’s a fine young man.”
“That may be, but he’s not my young man,” Caroline added.
Malvina and Hubert both looked at her.
“No one said he was, my dear.” Malvina added looking over at Hubert before he returned to his newspaper.
“I understand what you are saying Gran and I agree with you. The concert was lovely and the Inspector seems a nice enough man,” she said the words, but all she could think of was his hands holding her tightly to him and his mouth over hers.
She swallowed lightly and reached for the toast. Her grandmother prattled on about nothing and her mind wandered again to the night before. She was at a loss. Why had he done what he had done? He had simply kissed her to kiss her? She pushed him from her mind. She turned her attention back to the list she had drawn up.