by
Rick Magers
Lord Chesterfield Van Stuyvesant had several admirable qualities, especially for a man raised by a nanny, butlers, chauffeurs, valet, and the like. One: He was handy with both mind and hand. Two: He was honest--capitol H. Three: He was vindictive--to a malicious degree.
It all began in Nob Hub at Churchill Manor, which sat majestically on five hundred acres in the center of Stuyvesant, England.
On the night of April 7th of this past year, fog arrived as a drizzling, humid, porridge-like mess--normal weather in Stuyvesant, this time of year. Lord Chesterfield pulled the ski mask from the cadaver and was somewhat surprised to see his ex butler Rubin, lying there. Somewhat I say, but not entirely. He had commented to close friends, after Rubin's one year employment was terminated, "Pissy little chap, that Rubin, but that's not why I terminated him. I will not tolerate so much as a stale scone leaving the manor in the pocket of an employee."
The thief's face began changing from the pale sickly complexion, which Lord Chesterfield had previously become used to seeing, to blotches of purple spreading across the now bloated face and neck. He looked down thinking, {A man of more intelligence would not have ventured out on a night such as this.}
He leaned down to place two fingers on Rubin's carotid artery. Much more deadly that I would have thought, and apparently almost immediate. He pulled the tall thin corpse into the elevator, and began the slow trip to the cellar three levels below, and the crematorium that he had a Scottish firm install to dispose of the deceased rare animals from his private collection. He said aloud, "I must learn how Rubin was able to bypass the alarm."
This was not the first invasion by a burglar. Two years previously a man somehow entered the garage unseen when his chauffeur brought the Silver Cloud in for the night. At midnight Lord Chesterfield was awakened with the cold barrel of a pistol tapping his forehead. {Good Lord, common trash carrying pistols in Great Britain,} he later thought.
The man left with a thousand pounds and was never apprehended. "That will never happen again," he told the inspector.
The firm that came from Aberdeen, Scotland and installed the crematorium kept their word, and never mentioned the unusual job. He called the owner and asked if he could also install a vault. A month later the men arrived with the vault and the equipment. After completing the job, they showed him how to remove the rear bolts, which allowed the steel panel to swing to the side on hinges. Before leaving, they assured him that the other crew would arrive soon to construct a cage for the newly acquired creature in his private collection.
Lord Chesterfield was born with a disposition that preferred he remain aloof and distant from his fellow man. As a child, he was forced to interact with others far more than he was desirous of, but as he grew to manhood he developed an aura about him, which made others quite pleased to remain at arm's length--and more. Lord Chesterfield was neither liked nor wished to be. Now in his early sixties, with both parents deceased, he was Master of the Manor, and had rules concerning his immediate proximity. His staff was limited to a chef, butler, one cleaning woman, and a chauffeur. It was not thriftiness, which motivated him to maintain such a large home with a small staff. He enjoyed a quiet and peaceful lifestyle--impossible with a large staff. He paid them handsomely, and with the single exception of Rubin, they had all been with Lord Chesterfield for many years. Contented to do as they were told and not go beyond his rules, their tasks were very slight, as he was an easy man to please. "Simply do as your told and do not bother me until you are called." All maintenance to the mansion and grounds was contracted, so to be in Lord Chesterfield's employment was quite pleasant and profitable.
The vault was completed in good time. The electronics and closed circuit cameras worked flawlessly. When the black market supplier of his animals arrived with Lord Chesterfield's latest acquisition, he immediately began training it.
It was a year later, almost to the day, when Rubin lay the cold steel blade against his former employer's throat and spoke quietly. "Keep your bloody mouth shut and take me to the money that I know you keep handy, and this will be a good night for us both."
Together; one with a knife still at the throat of the other, they boarded the elevator and began the two-story ride to Lord Chesterfield's, Gentleman's Room below.
"There's a hundred thousand quid in the new vault behind the portrait of Queen Victoria. Take it but please don't harm me." He could hear the thief's breathing increase at the thought of so much money--bait.
"Open the bloody vault and don't try anything foolish." The knife remained at Lord Chesterfield's throat as he dialed the numbers. When the unmistakable click of the vault's tumblers reached the thief's ears, another creature had already responded to the electronic signals it had been trained to obey. Deep within its primitive brain, one message overpowered all other thoughts--{live food}
"Pull the bloody door open and don't even think about making a move or I'll carve you up like stew meat."
After pulling the vault's door open, Lord Chesterfield stepped back against the wall. The heel of his bare foot tripped a switch that opened a full-length panel.
Engrossed with the prospect of great wealth, the thief didn't notice his captive disappear into the wall.
Before the panel had even closed completely to conceal Lord Chesterfield, the thief was struck with such brutal force that he was knocked back. He dropped the knife and grabbed the beast, but it had already plunged its fangs deep into his neck.
Lord Chesterfield watched the viewing screen in awe as the fourteen-foot-long King Cobra repeatedly struck the thief in the face and neck. When the reptile coiled and waited for signs to continue the attack, Lord Chesterfield flipped a switch beside the monitor. The beast immediately reentered the vault, as it had been conditioned to do, and slithered toward its glass cave where it knew a live white mouse awaited.
Another switch was thrown and the rear door of the vault closed. A third switch closed the vault. A fourth opened the panel and Lord Chesterfield stepped into the room and looked down at the cadaver.
THE END
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