The Einstein Equation

18 Beacon in the Fearsome Night

Uncharacteristic of her, Nina said next to nothing on the way to Sam’s apartment. She just sat staring out the car window at nothing in particular. For atmosphere, Sam had turned on the local radio station to combat the awkward silence. He was aching to ask Nina why she had fled Oban, even for a few days, because he knew she had a lecture contract with the local college there for at least six more months. However, by the way she acted he knew best not to pry — yet.

When they arrived at Sam’s apartment, Nina trudged in and sank down on her favorite couch of Sam’s, usually occupied by Bruich. He was not rushing, as such, but Sam started collecting everything he would need for intelligence gathering so long. In hopes of Nina explaining her plight, he did not press her. He knew she was aware that he would soon leave on assignment and thus, if she had something to say, she would have to come out with it.

“I am off to the shower,” he mentioned as he walked by her. “If you need to talk, just come in.”

He had barely dropped his trousers to get under the warm water when he noticed Nina’s shadow glide past his mirror. She sat down on the toilet lid, leaving him to go about his washing business without a single word in jest or mockery, as was her habit.

“They killed old Mr. Hemming, Sam,” she just stated. He could see her slouching on the toilet, her folded hands between her knees, her head hung in despair. Sam assumed this Hemming character was someone from Nina’s childhood.

“Friend of yours?” he asked in an elevated tone to challenged the rushing shower.

“Aye, so to speak. Prominent citizen of Oban since 400BC, you know?” she answered plainly.

“I’m sorry, love,” Sam said. “You must have loved him very much for you to take it this hard.” Then it hit Sam that she mentioned someone killing the old man.

“Nope, he was just an acquaintance, but we spoke a few times,” she explained.

“Wait, who killed him? And how do you know that he was murdered?” Sam asked eagerly. It sounded ominously like Aidan’s fate. Coincidence?

“McFadden’s fucking Rottweiler killed him, Sam. He killed an infirm senior citizen right in front of me,” she stammered. Sam felt his chest take an invisible blow. Shock jolted through him.

“In front of you? Does that mean…?” he started, when Nina stepped into the shower with him. It was a wonderful surprise and a devastating clout altogether, when he saw her naked body. It had been a long time since he saw her like this, but this time it was not sexy at all. In fact, it was heart wrenching for Sam to see the bruises on her thighs and ribs. Then he noticed the welts on her breasts and back and the roughly stitched knife wounds on the inside of her left clavicle and under her left arm, done by a retired nurse who promised not to tell.

“Jesus Christ!” he shrieked. His heart pounded wildly and all he could think of was to grab her and hold her tightly. She did not cry, and that terrified him. “Was this the work of his Rottweiler?” he asked into her wet hair where he kept kissing her head.

“His name, aptly, is Wolf, as in Wolfgang,” she muttered through the streams of warm water that meandered over his muscular chest. “They just walked in and assaulted Mr. Hemming, but I heard the commotion from upstairs where I was getting him another blanket. By the time I got downstairs,” she choked, “they had pulled him out of the chair and threw him head first into the fire in the hearth. Christ! He had no chance!”

“Then they attacked you?” he asked.

“Aye, they tried to make it look like an accident. Wolf threw me down the stairs, but when I got up, he just used my towel pipe on me while I tried to run,” she recounted in gasps. “Eventually he just stabbed me and left me to bleed out.”

Sam had no words that could make any of it better. He had a million questions about the police, the old man’s body, how she got to Edinburgh, but all that had to wait. For now, he had to calm her down and remind her that she was safe, and he intended to keep her that way.

‘McFadden, you just fucked with the wrong people,’ he thought. Now he had proof that McFadden was indeed behind Aidan’s murder. This also affirmed that McFadden was a member of the Order of the Black Sun after all. Time was running out for his trip to Belgium. He wiped her tears and said, “Dry off, but don’t get dressed yet. I am going to take photographs of your injuries and then you are coming with me to Belgium. I will not lose sight of you for a minute until I have skinned that treacherous motherfucker myself.”

For once, Nina issued no protest. She allowed Sam to take control of things. Not a single doubt crossed her mind that he was her avenger. In her mind, as Sam’s Canon flashed on her secrets, she could still hear Mr. Hemming warn her that she had been marked. Still, she would have saved him all over again, even knowing what swine she was dealing with.

After he had enough evidence, and they were both dressed, he made her a cup of Horlicks to keep her warm before their departure.

“Do you have your passport?” he asked her.

“Aye,” she said, “do you have any painkillers?”

“I am a friend of Dave Purdue,” he answered suavely, “of course I have painkillers.”

Nina could not help but giggle and it was a blessing to Sam’s ears to hear her spirits lift.

On their flight to Brussels, they exchanged vital information, gathered separately during the past week. Sam had to illuminate the facts under which he felt compelled to take up Aidan Glaston’s assignment, so that Nina would understand what needed to be done. He shared with her his own ordeal with George Masters and the doubts he had about Purdue’s possession of the Dire Serpent.

“My God, no wonder you look like death warmed up,” she eventually said. “No offense. I am sure I look like shit too. I certainly feel like shit.”

He ruffled up her thick dark locks and kissed her temple. “No offense taken, love. But yes, you do look like shit.”

She elbowed him carefully, as she always did when he said something cruel in jest, but she could not deal him the full force, of course. Sam chuckled and took her hand. “We have just under two hours to go before we hit Belgium. Relax and take a breather, alright? Those pills I gave you are amazing, you’ll see.”

“You would know what best to drug a girl with,” she teased as her head lolled against the head rest of her seat.

“I do not need drugs. Birds love the long curls and the rugged beard too much,” he bragged, running his fingers slowly down his cheek and jawline. “You are lucky I have a soft spot for you. That is the only reason I still stay single, waiting for you to come to your senses.”

Sam heard no catty comebacks. When he looked at Nina, she was fast asleep, exhausted from the hell she had been through. It was good to see her take some rest, he thought.

“My best lines always fall on deaf ears,” he said, and laid back to catch a few winks.