Mirages
Part 3

Solomon dismounted the borrowed horse, leading him to a small group of trees and securing his reins so he was hidden from anyone traveling along the dirt lane. The ruins of the Rochefort ancestral castle stood a short distance away and he covered the distance briskly, scanning the area as he walked.

Unlike the foreboding remains of the mansion, these ruins gave off a sense of quiet melancholy. Brush and vines covered portions of the building, making it part of the landscape.

Hefting his lantern, Solomon walked along the building until he found an entrance. The heavy wooden door was closed but clear of growth and it opened with a hard pull.

Stepping inside, Solomon scanned the ground for debris and creatures before pulling the door closed behind him – he didn't want anyone to happen by and follow him inside.

Ahead was a narrow hall ending in a set of steps, which Solomon climbed cautiously, swiping away several sets of cobwebs. At the top of the stairs he went left, predicting that it would lead out of the narrow servant’s areas into the larger family rooms. He wanted a general sense of the building's layout, and finding the main reception areas would help.

He was somewhat distracted by the tattered tapestries and other remnants and didn't realize what he was hearing at first. Stopping abruptly, he scrambled to hide his light while he concentrated. Finally, when he was almost convinced he'd been imagining things, he heard footsteps again.

Shielding the light as well as he could, he hurried after the sound. Thankfully the only debris in this corridor was along the walls, adding to his suspicion that at least one other person was in this building, and perhaps had been here for a while.

Reaching a cross-corridor, he slowed and peered around the corner cautiously, catching a flash of movement as the other person entered a doorway at the far right.

Moving as fast as caution would allow, Solomon pursued them, crossing through what might have been the ballroom through a series of smaller rooms and finally reaching what appeared to be a dead end. There was no sign of the other person, and the only item in the room was a dingy portrait of a round-faced man wearing a powered wig. Solomon examined the portrait, wondering why anyone would want to be immortalized looking off to the side and smirking.

Maybe the maid was in the room, he muttered to himself, having read too many accounts of affairs between aristocrats and their servants. He considered the portrait again, stepping back and raising the lantern for a better look. He shifted to the left and then the right, following the man's gaze downward, noting that however he viewed the portrait, the man's gaze always fell on the same spot on the floor.

"It can't be that easy," Solomon was half-disgusted with himself for even considering it; these were exactly the kinds of ideas that had earned him the ridicule of his fellow police officers.

Still, there was no one else here, it couldn't hurt to try.

Setting down the lantern, Solomon felt along the walls and floor, looking for some kind of trigger to move the stone square that the man in the portrait seemed to be staring at. Finding nothing, he tried prying at the stone itself, but it was far too heavy to move.

Mind working furiously, he turned his attention to the portrait. There was nothing on the frame, but on the portrait itself, there was a small gemlike button on the man's shirt. Shifting the frame, Solomon searched the bit of wall that would be right under that button. Inside a tiny depression that could have been a crack, there was a small bit of stone that moved when pressed. Solomon prodded, applying more force until it gave a loud click and slid back easily.

The heavy stone square on the floor gave a louder click as it tilted, one side lifting up high enough that Solomon could pry it open to reveal a ladder underneath.

Giving himself up as a complete fool, he lowered himself cautiously down into the glow. It was filthy and filled with cobwebs, but he clenched his teeth and kept moving, testing each rung before he put his full weight on it. After what felt like hours, he finally reached the ground.

He was still wiping away the grime when he heard the distinctive sound of a pistol cocking. Lifting his hands in surrender, he turned to face his captor.

"You were declared dead," he told his captor, recognizing Madame du Rochefort even in the dim lighting.

"I'm afraid you've mistaken me for my brother's late, unlamented wife, Detective Sugar."

"You know me?"

"And I've been expecting you." She motioned with the gun towards a doorway on the left. "If you would."

"Of course. If you'll forgive my intrusion?" Solomon kept his hands up, still clutching the lantern as he walked steadily through the door, down a short hallway and into a larger, surprisingly well-appointed room.

"There's a washbasin if you'd care to freshen up. It's a bit primitive, but it will have to do."

Solomon was grateful for the chance to wash the grime from his face and hands. If he was going to have to face down an armed and supposedly deceased aristocratic grande dame, he preferred to be presentable.
 

+++++
 

"You're sure the reference is to Carthage?"

"Certain. There's no mistaking that reference to the queen in the first line. And the last line mentions something of value beyond price. It's the meaning in the two middle lines that I haven't deduced." Ray leaned back against the pile of pillows and let out a stream of smoke. He hadn't had a cigar since lunch and he was savoring the familiar sensation. A short distance away, Azura was using a hookah to inhale something with a thick, sweet scent.

There were long comfortable silences as the men relaxed, enjoying the end of the day calm.

"It's been a long time since we've done this," Ray remarked, his mind full of memories of warm evenings spend lazing on rooftops or in hidden corners of the city. Fez was always a dangerous place, but the few hours after sunset, had always seemed a little calmer and a bit safer.

"Too long," Azura agreed, with perhaps a hint of wistfulness in his voice. He set the pipe aside and leaned forward, his eyes wide and pupils dark, making Ray wonder what exactly the other man was smoking. He was hardly a prude, but he valued his sense of control too much to give it up willingly. It surprised him that Azura was indulging so casually.

"You're safe here, Ray." Azura said as he picked up the pipe and held it out. Ray smiled, but refused.

"I’d rather not," he insisted. "I'll need my wits if I'm to solve that riddle."

"Relaxation is good for the thinking process. If you won't try this, perhaps I should offer you another diversion? Florian…"

"Perhaps later," Ray said quickly, stopping Azura before the man picked up the omnipresent bell. "I'm enjoying the time spent with you, my friend."

"We'll have plenty of time together," Azura assured him, giving him a leer. You're well on your way to earning your reward and I'll want to make sure that you receive it in full."

"I didn't come here for the reward." Ray could hear the edge of irritation in his own voice. When he'd received the invitation from Azura, he'd been lonely and bored. He thought this would be a pleasant visit with an old friend with a bit of mystery thrown in to make it more exciting. Now he felt like a guest being tolerated, who would be thrown a coin and sent out when he was no longer needed.

"Of course you didn't." Azura's whole manner changed as he sank back against the cushions. "You're probably the only one who can say that truthfully my old friend."

The realization that Azura was as isolated as him made Ray's chest tighten. Who would have thought they'd have had more friends as orphans living on the streets than they'd have when they were rich and successful.

For a moment Ray was tempted to mention Florian, but he knew that for the lie it was; Florian wasn't Azura's friend. The man may have chosen to sell himself to Azura, but it didn't change the fact that he was a commodity.

Before he could get too maudlin, Azura got up and walked over to him, reaching down to put a hand on his arm.

"Come with me." It wasn't a request, and for a moment, Ray moved to follow. And then he realized where Azura was leading. The man had been indulging in an unknown, probably illicit substance - this was not the time to fall into bed with him.

Not that he wasn't tempted. In addition to being his closest friend, he and Azura had spent more than one night fumbling with each other in the dark. Ray was no innocent, but Azura had been the first person he'd wanted to be intimate with by choice. Things had never actually gone that far, but Ray still remembered the feel of their bodies pressed against each other. It had been the source of fantasy frequently over the years but now that the moment was here, it wasn't at all what he imagined.

"I will," Ray promised. "But not tonight." He wasn't sure how much else he should say - how he could explain what he wanted without being impolite or a prude. He was relieved when Azura stepped back, accepting his refusal without question."

"Good night, then. I'll see you in the morning at breakfast." Azura walked away, turning back just before he reached the door. "I'll send Florian to you when I've finished with him. If you don't want him, have him sleep on the floor."

Ray trailed him out of the room at a slower pace, heading for his own chamber. He made a concentrated effort not to think of the cost his refusal would have on Florian. He worked even harder not to think about Florian's arrival later that night.

If the fates were kind, he'd be asleep before that happened.
 

+++++
 

Hours later, Ray lay stiffly on one side of the bed remembering that he didn't believe in the fates. Beside him, Florian was sleeping. The man was nude and had thrown off the covers. Ray was feeling warm himself, but he kept his nightclothes and the light blanket on, wishing it was a more effective shield against temptation.

Florian had arrived as promised nearly an hour ago. The lanterns kept burning outside to allow the servants to move around safely cast enough light into the room for Ray to see the pale cream of Florian's body and the shadows that hinted at bruises. It was no surprise that Azura marked his lovers, but seeing it was much different than imagining it.

"Climb in. You'll need sleep if you're going to help me in the library tomorrow." Ray took control of the situation immediately, moving to one side of the bed and holding up the blanket. He wanted Florian to understand that he wasn't expected to do anything but rest.

The man cast off his robe and climbed in without hesitation. He moved close to Ray, leaning in to kiss him, but Ray stopped him before they made contact.

"Sleep, Florian. You don't have to do anything more tonight." The man started to object but Ray stopped him. "Sleep."

When Florian hesitated, Ray reached up and drew him down gently for a kiss. He let go and just as gently pushed Florian away and down to the mattress. He could smell Azura on him, and his imagination started sending him unwanted images.

Florian was very still, watching Ray, confused and a little worried. He was afraid that Azura would think he disobeyed. Ray understood that but couldn't bring himself to use the man when he'd arrived straight from Azura's bed.

"I don't understand," Florian whispered after studying Ray for a long time. He hastened to add, "I'm not questioning you. It's just..."

"Sleep, Ray urged, placing a hand on Florian's shoulder. The contact seemed to be the reassurance Florian needed; a few minutes later he fell asleep.

Much later, with dawn approaching, Ray finally gave in and moved closer to his bedmate. He fit his body against Florian's and fell asleep almost instantly.

When he woke, hours later, he was on his back and Florian was curled against his side. Azura was leaning against the doorway, watching them, an unreadable expression on his face.
 

+++++
 

It occurred to Solomon that sitting in the ruins of a castle being served tea by a dead woman was not what he had had planned for the day. The tea was excellent, however, sweetened precisely to his taste and served in an antique china cup that was probably worth more than the combined value of everything he owned.

His time with the Paris police certainly hadn't prepared him for this. It had, however, drilled him until asking the necessary questions was second nature. It was working surprisingly well, all things considered. Madame Rochefort wasn't a bit reticent in answering. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying his attention. Solomon supposed that being presumed dead would make one rather lonely.

"Biscuit?" Madame offered a selection arrayed artfully on a platter, interrupting Solomon's rambling thoughts. He selected a shortbread and tasted it, finding it much better than the ones he got from the shop near the booksellers.

"How did you come to suspect your brother was involved with the Black Hand?" he asked, continuing the line of questions that had been delayed by the tea.

"It started small - missing ornaments and household items, Then it was larger items; pieces from rooms that weren't used very often or heirlooms that had been in storage suddenly vanished. It's no secret that I've had to sell some family possessions, but far more were missing than I had sold."

Madame Rochefort paused a moment to sip her tea and nibble on a biscuit. She set them aside, unfinished, and returned to her story.

"Maurice had trouble with gambling in the past, and I assumed that was the reason for the missing items. I had a terrible shock the day I went to his home to confront him and learned that it was a far more serious problem.

"I never cared for his wife, you understand. She was a common thing who put on airs, pretending to be a proper aristocrat just because she'd married one. Brother was blinded by her lies and it led to his ruin.

"Imagine finding yourself face to face with a group of ruffians - criminals even, in my brother's own home. And she was laughing with them - consorting I might add. And poor Maurice at her side, ensnared by her evil.

"She lured him in. I knew it as soon as saw that band of ruffians. Maurice had been gambling again, and losing heavily. But she'd gotten him mixed up with the worst sort and he owed them a king's ransom. They said they'd let him work it off by using his connections - they had him stealing. My brother! Stealing! The things he took from me were trivial compared to the deeds and contracts he was forced to take from others."

"That wasn't the worst of it. No, the worst was using my own brother to get to Florian. He thought to spare me, the dear boy. He always had too big a heart. He made an arrangement with a rich man in exchange for payment of the family debts. He didn't know that Maurice and that man had a deal. He wanted Florian and used Maurice to get him.

"I knew nothing of this until it was too late. Maurice and his devil of a wife came to my house just a few days after Florian had gone. They were demanding the famous Rochefort diamond. Said the man had tried to force the information from Florian but my dear boy kept telling him the diamond was gone.

"That's when I knew what had to be done. I'd lost Florian, and Maurice was beyond saving. I insisted they have tea while we discussed the diamond but I didn't get the dosage right and it took a long time for the poison to take effect. You can imagine how difficult it was to keep talking normally while waiting for someone to die.

"When it was finally over, I went through the house and packed what I needed. The servants took care of the trunks in the morning and after I gave the staff the day off, I spent the time preparing for my supposed death. I waited until nightfall to start the fire then used Maurice's car to get away.

"More tea?" Madame offered pleasantly as she concluded her story. She took up her own cup and drank the rest before finishing the biscuit.

Solomon looked down at his nearly empty teacup and declined the offer for more, mind reeling at the tale he'd just been told.

"Your brother's wife's body was found after the fire. What happened to Maurice?" Solomon steeled himself for the answer, sure he wouldn't like it.

"Don't worry, Detective. I've taken care of him." The smile Madame gave him wasn't a bit reassuring.
 

+++++
 

"Look!" Florian thumped the book down in front of Ray and leaned in to point out a specific passage. Ray read it over, considered and read it again before looking up, grinning.

"That has to be it," Florian insisted. "A sacred place set apart – a temple outside the city."

"And 'above yet below' could mean that the treasure is hidden under a temple on a hilltop." Ray prompted, enjoying the way Florian's eyes lit up as he worked to solve the riddle.

"Or even…" Florian shifted a few books, finding the one he wanted on the bottom of the pile. Opening it to display a large map of Carthage, he ran his finger along the line marking the coast. "Did the riddle mean the treasure was hidden under a structure along the coast – above the sea yet below the ground? Aren't there ruins?"

"There are," Ray confirmed. And the structures probably fit the time frame we're working with. A treasure this important would be hidden very carefully – somewhere that would be around for a long time." Ray placed his hand over Florian's on the book. "Sacred doesn't always mean holy. It could also refer to a palace or place honoring earthly leaders."

"A palace then." Florian frowned, his focus going distant for a moment before he asked, "Don't palaces usually have chapels?"

"Or something similar, depending on the prevailing religion. And if it was inside of a palace, it wouldn't be easily accessible." Ray leaned back, pleased with their progress in solving the riddle. Since adopting the guise of Noir, Ray had had many occasions to puzzle out challenges – people didn't leave their jewelry lying about after all – but this was the most fun he'd had in quite a while. Florian didn't have the formal education that Ray and Azura had, but he knew enough to be helpful and offered a different, sometimes unconventional perspective.

They were so involved in their research that they forgot lunch entirely. It wasn't until Azura stormed into the room, furious at being kept waiting that they remembered the time.

Florian leapt up from his perch on the edge of the desk and hurried towards Azura, hoping to calm him before he took his anger out on Ray. Before he realized what was happening, Azura had his ever present whip in hand and lashed out at him, catching Florian's bruised wrist and using the contact to drag him closer.

"It's not his fault!" Ray shouted, standing so quickly he almost upset his chair. He took a step forward but was stopped by the look in Azura's eye. For the first time in his life, Ray was afraid of Azura. The feeling passed in an instant, leaving a cold resolve in its place. "Let him go."

"This is my home. My property." Azura tugged the whip to make it clear he was asserting his ownership of Florian. His voice was low and dangerous. "Do not presume to give me orders."

The moment stretched out between them, Florian trapped, helpless, in the middle. Finally Ray nodded once and stepped back. He turned back to the desk without another word and began to close and stack the books he'd been using. When he was done, he picked up his notes and carried them to Azura.

"The translation of your riddle and our notes. My thanks for your hospitality. I'll gather my belongings and see myself out." Ray handed the papers to Azura and then turned to Florian. "Your help was invaluable. I hope we meet again someday." With a nod, he moved past the two men and left the room.

Moving at a rapid but respectable pace, he returned to his room and started packing, wondering if his risky gamble would pay off. He didn't like leaving Florian that way, but he wasn't about to directly challenge Azura's authority. He was counting on the importance of the riddle to bring Azura to his senses.

He was nearly finished packing when the door opened and Azura entered, alone. He was calmer, at least, but no less dangerous.

"You've been working too hard, my friend. You need to rest and have something to eat. Tonight we'll go out."

Ray knew he should refuse – that he should leave while he could. But he never could leave a riddle unsolved. And he didn't want to abandon Florian, especially not now.

"I'd enjoy that." Ray set the suitcase down as a form of surrender. He caught the flash of a victory smile on Azura's face before it settled into a more friendly grin.

"It's my fault for neglecting you. I had some unexpected business matters to attend to. Now that they're settled, I'll be able to assist you myself and you won't have Florian as a distraction."

As he talked, Azura directed Ray towards the dining room where a meal was still waiting for them. Laila was there quickly removing the third place setting.

"Florian won't be joining us?" Ray knew it was foolish to ask, but did it anyway.

"He has other matters to attend to for the rest of the day. You may see him tonight if you'd like, but he won't be able to stay with you as he did last night."

"We'll see." Ray made the comment as noncommittal as he could, not wanting to give Azura any more reason to direct his anger at Florian. He was apparently fine with sharing Florian's body, but clearly resented sharing Florian's company. After spending some time with Florian, Ray could understand why. Meanwhile, he would do his best to divert Azura's attention, although he suspected the blond had already been punished.

A faint sound reminded Ray of Laila's presence. He had seen Florian speaking to her on several occasions and had the impression that they were friendly. She might be able to tell him about Florian's condition if he could find the opportunity to speak to her alone.

Feeling a bit more settled now that he had a plan of action, Ray proceeded to enjoy his lunch.
 

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