So Night Follows Day Pt. 24

"Whatever other lying and deceiving I've done, Contessa, I did keep my promise not to cheat until you forced me to." Whyte explained. Helen agreed from the other side of the table.

"That's certainly true. OK, no punishment for trying. You had to try. So, I'd asked the last question, Leonard. It's your turn, now. This is fun."

Whyte thought for a moment as he ate.

"All right, then." He said at last. "I thought I'd figured out a way around your ability, you found a counter for it and proved my theory wrong. If I was wrong about that, then maybe I was wrong about the idea that it can't be transmitted as well, or someone as smart as you could have sorted that problem out by now, too. Oh, I know better than to ask you to show me how you do it, even as a last request. So that re-opens my original question: If she can do all of that, why doesn't Contessa Helena de San Finzione go on television; or, with all those languages at her command, go to the floor of the UN and conquer the world with a few words?"

She took a drink of the black coffee she'd ordered to come off the buzz of the alcohol. She shrugged, indicating that it was a fair question.

"That one's pretty easy, Leonard. Fact, I'll call it a freebie." Helena leaned forward and gave him a smoulderingly sexy look. "Why would I bother conquering something that's already mine?"

Whyte smiled a smile that said that he knew that it might be true, but also that it'd be the best answer he was going to get from her. Helen gave him a smile back that said that he was correct, and that there was no point in pursuing the question any further.

"All right, then. Well, with me out of the picture, your leaving the Auction with Springheel is a fait accompli. We both know what I was going to do with it; kill you, then make more. But what was YOUR interest, Contessa? If you need someone out of the way, you can just walk up and tell them to get out of the way. If you need to know something about your enemies, you just grab one of them and ask. Getting it so that none of your enemies has it makes perfect sense and is the only reason you'd have for wanting it. So, what're your plans once you've got it?"

Helen answered with a smile.

"Well, my maid will kill me if I don't at least let her try it on. After that, though, I intend to destroy it."

"Really?" Whyte replied, shocked. "Granted it was meant for assassination, but there IS more you could do with it. Why, that jumping and rope-shooting thing could be handy in rescue work. And there's so much more! Do you even know what Inertial Dampening is?"

"I know that the right phrase is 'Inertial damping,' and calling it 'dampening' makes you sound like a dork to other dorks, but that's about it. And that's all I care to, Mr. Whyte. The only thing I want to learn about Springheel is that I've melted it into slag and dropped the slag into the sea." She finished her coffee. "And speaking of sleeping with the fishes, we should get on with it, Mr. Whyte."

She walked over to a desk in the room and grabbed a handful of stationary and a choice of pens. Helen removed Whyte's plate and silverware and set the paper in front of him. She returned to the couch and lit a cigarette.

"First thing's first: let's get started on that suicide note. Make it a good one, Leonard. Confess your crimes, admit horrible things, but you know, I'm gonna be reading it after, so make it good. Don't say how you're going to do it, though. I'm still working on that. After what happened to your businesses today, I think the red ink pen would be fitting, but I'll let you make that decision. It's your note, after all. Now, write it. Let's say no more than five pages.