She closed the door behind him and pocketed the vials.
Chung-Cha sat in front of the gas fire and finally fell asleep. She awoke with a start when she heard the noise. Her hand slipped to her pocket and closed around the knife. It was the same knife she had used to kill the British envoy.
The cottage was dark, the fire the only illumination. She heard cautious footsteps coming from the kitchen. She silently made her way to that spot and peered around the corner.
Min had poured out a glass of milk and was drinking it at the table.
Then Min stopped, put the glass down, and picked up the photo. The photo that Chung-Cha had foolishly left on the table; she had fallen asleep before picking everything up and hiding it.
Chung-Cha went into the kitchen and Min looked up at her.
“Why do you have this, Chung-Cha?” she asked, turning the photo around.
Looking back at her from the grainy photo were Eleanor, Claire, and Tommy Cassion.
Chung-Cha fingered the vials in her pocket and eyed the glass of milk. Death by cyanide was relatively quick but not painless. Would a bullet be better? Quick, no pain. Min would never know it was Chung-Cha who had done it.
She said, “A friend brought those by. He was just taking some different pictures of people and places here.”
“These are the people from the beach. The boy picking seashells.”
Chung-Cha came over to her, took the photo, and looked at it. “You’re right. I had not noticed that.”
“I did not hear anyone come tonight.”
“It was late. You were already asleep.” Chung-Cha ran a hand down Min’s hair. “Now you should go back to sleep, Min.”
The little girl was gazing down at the picture, and then she looked up at Chung-Cha. Her lip trembled and Chung-Cha recalled that the reason she had picked Min to take from the camp was her obvious spirit. And intelligence.
“Chung-Cha?” began Min.
“Not tonight, Min. We will talk about things tomorrow. But not tonight.”
She put the girl back in bed and lay with her for a while until Min was breathing evenly and eventually fell asleep.
Then Chung-Cha did not go to bed, but went outside and sat in a wooden chair and stared at a sky that was filled with stars while a breeze lifted her hair and the smell of the nearby waters filled her nostrils.
She took the vials of poison from her pocket and held them in front of her. They were small, yet deadly.
Just as she was.
She envisioned herself lying among the dead at the town hall. The police and American agents swarming all over the scene. The world coming to understand what had happened. Perhaps the Americans and her country would go to war over this, with only one inevitable outcome.
Then she put the vials back in her pocket, laid her head back against the rough gray wood of the chair, closed her eyes, and thought of being in a place and a life that was as different from hers as it was possible to be.
Chapter
72
OMIGOD, WILL, YOU CAN BE Darth Vader,” said Claire as they were finishing up lunch at the house.
She next looked fixedly at Reel. “And you could be Maleficent.”
“Thanks,” said Reel dryly.
Eleanor pretended to look hurt. “Hey, I thought I was Darth Vader.”
Tommy put down his fork and said, “I don’t care about the rest of you guys, I’m going as Wolverine. He’s, like, the coolest.”
“What will you go as?” Reel asked Claire.
“Oh, I’m really too old for that stuff. I might just put on a wig and pretend I’m a TV character from like way back in the early 2000s.”
Eleanor looked at Reel comically. “Way back in the early 2000s? I have never felt so old.”
“What time is the thing tonight?” asked Claire.
“We go to the town hall first. I have offered us up to be sort of the parade’s grand marshals. So we’re having a little pre-parade meeting followed by a reception at the town hall. The mayor will be there along with a few others.”
“Meaning it will be really boring,” said Claire.
“Meaning it will not take that long and it will mean a lot to the folks here,” replied her mother briskly.
Robie looked at Reel. “You up for Maleficent?”
“I don’t have the costume.”
“I had them packed,” said Eleanor. “I knew we’d be celebrating Halloween up here. I was hoping the president could make it, but that’s apparently not going to happen.”
“What are you going to be, Mom?” asked Tommy.
“I think this year I’ll venture way, way back to the seventies and go as Cher.” She confided to Reel, who was seated next to her, “I’ve always loved all her different looks over the years. Especially her hair.”
“Share? Share what?” asked Tommy, looking confused. He had obviously never heard of the singer.
Eleanor said, “Need to know, and you don’t.”
After lunch was done Robie and Reel went outside.
“Town hall Halloween parade?”
“Yeah, sounds like a blast,” said Reel, without a trace of enthusiasm.
“I take it you never went trick-or-treating?”
“You take it correctly.”
“Well, you can make up for lost time.”
“I’m glad we’ll be leaving here soon; I’m starting to feel claustrophobic.”
“So no islands in your future?”
“I’m more of a city girl.”
“You had a cottage on the Eastern Shore in the middle of nowhere,” Robie pointed out.
“That’s why I’m a city girl now. I got sick of that.”
“I guess the Secret Service will scope out the town hall and the parade route.”
“Guess so. I’m sure they’re not too happy about this. Lots of people, in costume. Easy to conceal stuff, weapons, explosives.”
“No, they are not happy. At least the president’s not here. If he were I’m not sure they’d be doing the parade.”
“Are you really going to dress up?” she asked.
“Why not?”
“And I have to be Maleficent, huh?”
“Well, it does fit your personality,” said Robie.
She punched him in the arm.
“So when we get back to the mainland, what then?” he asked.
“Wait for the next call-up.”
“Doubtful it will be the both of us. They tend to send us out solo.”