Thirty minutes after the events of Don't Blink.
Nicodemus Tavoularis had been waiting a very long time for this phone call.
He stared at the incoming call display for a tension-fraught moment, those clear, wide-open eyes his mother so adored blinking nervously as the number was identified as the phone in Room 802 of the Imperial Hotel. If all went as planned, the Armenian was playing a devious game on his nerves by calling from that telephone. But if his gambit had failed, it would be his mother's voice that he heard on the other end of the line, and his life would be over.
With a steadying breath, he activated the receiver. "This," he said slowly and with practiced calm, "is Nicodemus."
"Nicodemus! You sound... exhausted." Hearty laughter followed the reply.
Irritated but relieved, Nicodemus straightened up in his chair. "So our plan was a success. Good."
"No. Not at all. Something unexpected has happened," the Armenian said. "Where is the girl, Nicodemus?"
"What? Aren't they there? Is my mother-"
"Your mother lives..," said the Armenian.
Nicodemus ground his palm into his temple. His heart seemed to stop mid-beat.
"..after a fashion," the voice on the telephone continued. "Philip, your twin sister and her children, all dead. But your mother, unlucky in the end, lingers."
"What are you talking about, Vartan?" Nicodemus demanded. He had no tolerance for these cryptic responses and no stomach for the thought that the Armenian might be preparing to torture his mother to death in breach of their agreement. 'Nicky Bright-Eyes,' as she had the irritating habit of calling him, had cultivated an abiding hatred for his mother, but it was not so deep as that. "You said she would be killed without spectacle."
"She would have been, had my men laid hands on her. We found them all here in their present condition. Your mother's treachery demanded repayment and with severity, but even I am moved to pity when one once so beautiful and full of life is reduced to what she is now."
"But that's...impossible! Who knew she was even going to be there except us?" Nicodemus protested.
"Never mind that, Nicodemus. I know how this happened. But where is the girl? You said there were two. There is but one body here, besides those of your family, and that nasty Hun, Hobbes, is absent. Nicodemus: you know that if you are hiding her, I will come for you."
"I don't have her, Vartan, and I have nothing to do with Hobbes nor he with me. He's my mother's most trusted stooge, do you really think he'd cooperate with me on this? And what are you saying, the other girl killed them? She's probably on the run."
"Yes. And so we must find her," the Armenian said.
Nicodemus folded his arms. "That's not my concern anymore. I don't want anything to do with her. She's evidently very dangerous. And the less I know about her, the less likely we two are to cross paths, and I would prefer to keep our contact in the future to a minimum."
"A prudent wish, Mr. Tavoularis. I will require nothing more of you than the information your mother collected on the missing girl."
"Done. But Hobbes...he has to be found and killed."
"The animal Hobbes is not my concern," said Vartan.
"He's dangerous. He could come after you," Nicodemus insisted.
"Then he will become my concern. Until then, he is yours. Besides that, I...would be rather surprised if he survives very long."
Nicodemus sighed. "Very well. I'll turn over the dossiers soon. But Vartan, one more thing. My mother..."
"She will be dispatched now. It is a mercy I do for her now," Vartan said.
"Before you do it, would you tell her... make her understand..," Nicodemus said, his voice quavering, "...that it was me."
A long, pregnant silence followed. "Farewell, Nicodemus." Vartan said finally, and hung up.
That night, secure for the moment in his victory, Nicodemus penned this letter:
Dearest Melinda,
Tonight I write you not knowing how, or if, you will receive this letter, but compelled to do so all the same. I was very pleased to see the news some months ago that you had abandoned foolish ways and false friends, even though the necessity of your keeping out of sight precludes any easy way to reach you. It is really tragic that for all those years when I knew where you were, I could not risk speaking to you, and now that you have returned to the life meant for us, I don't know where to look for you. Of course it was wise for you to erect those walls that keep out Justin's dreams – I believe I understand how violating and how maddening they must have been, though I had never experienced them - but all the same, I wish you hadn't, because then I could always speak to you.
I would tell you that I'm proud of your ventures in Fresno, in Santa Clarita, and elsewhere; you have a keen mind and a daring spirit, much more than our short-sighted mother was willing to admit. In some ways you are the most talented of us all, and that is why mother worked so hard to cut you down. She feared you and because of that, she drove you away. It hurts me to recall how she hurt you, and how I, in my foolish desire to please her, also hurt you. It is to your credit that you have seen through this pain and gotten back on the right path. And Melinda, you are on the right path, the only path, for you. You and I are great souls, too great by far to live according to the rules of lesser men: they who would throw us their scraps like dogs beneath the dinner table, and insist that we thank them for the insult. You could never be satisfied with a life like that. I told you once that it is only by taking what is our due that we will have it, and I am thankful that you realize the truth of that now.
And now, sister, so too do I.
Mother is gone. So is Philip, and Katerina and her worthless litter. Mother's stunted lackey is gone, too. I would like to say that I engineered their destruction, but really it was their own stupidity and vanity that set it up, and I simply took the opportunity they offered. Rest assured that they were repaid for every hurt they inflicted on you. Justin and Pandora are with me, as are their children and Julian. Mika, that timorous rabbit, will not dare to stand against me.
I rule the family now, sister, and so I implore you to return home. You have always belonged here. We will welcome and protect you. I will protect you. This family will finally be what it was meant to be, before mother's jealousy and vindictiveness nearly destroyed it. Come home, Melinda, and we will squeeze from this world every drop that it owes us, plus the interest.
With lasting affection,
Your brother,
Nicodemus
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