The Conceiting Portrait (Part 14)

"What makes you think he suspects you, eh?" A woman sitting in the shadows of a long corridor with a royal comfortable chair at its end choked the words as she puffed her cigar. "His emphasis on us meeting again clearly proved that he knew more than he should have." Petunia bent her brows. "What do you say? Should I terminate you for being a weak point in our mission or terminate him for knowing too much?" the woman coughed lightly as she blew out her cigar and rested on her chair. "If you kill me, then Interpol will reach you in less than a second. If you kill him, Interpol won't have a glimpse of us." Petunia stuttered as she realized her own life was at stake. The woman began humming her rhyme she often sang. Petunia stood there perplexed about what to do. She held the register tightly in her hands and tapped her feet violently out of anxiety. "Call Emile. We are terminating the man. Give him all the details." the woman ordered. "Yes ma'am." Petunia turned around and heaved a sigh of relief. She walked through the long corridors and opened the large wooden door. She walked out onto the marble floor as the hinges of the door squeaked. Once Petunia left, the woman sniffed and raised a small frame that had its place on the coffee-table beside her. She whispered under her breathe, "I will take back what is rightfully mine mother. Your name will be imprinted in history."

Petunia fished out her phone from the pocket and dialed Emile. She walked on the white marble floor as the tapping of her heels echoed. "Hullo?" A man answered. "Terminate Mr. Basil Blake. Works at musée franco-américain de de 'la Vanilli." Petunia read it from the register. "Basil Blake eh? I say he's 'armless... I know that chap well but me boys say it's Joan McCalli-something. She's big trouble oll right?" The man said. "That is none of my business, but it's her orders to finish him. Do it. I want updates of his death in the next one hour. Am I clear?" Petunia sternly ordered. "'kay... will update you," he said and hung the phone. 

Someone had come to Michael's cottage after he was killed. But who? This time, the photos that Jo had taken in her phone was a big clue that someone was indeed involved in the recent crimes and Interpol was bound to find them out. "Have you got any other proof apart from these images that someone else had been there?" Jennifer was leading the mission to find the ruthless murders. "Nothing so far ma'am. No footprints, fingerprints or any other evidence. It has all been wiped out." A blonde woman spoke up. "We have connected to Jo's phone but nothing she collected helps us to move forward with the investigation," she added. "Then it means she is getting some sort of external help. Have you checked with the others?" Jennifer rubbed her chin. "They have nothing at all." the blonde woman replied. "Then what is it that we are missing?" Jennifer bent her brows and stared at the photos of Michael's room scattered on a large screen. She searched everywhere until she spotted something red on the mattress. "Could you please zoom in over there?" she pointed towards the edge of the mattress.