Chapter 36 - The Silver Needle
A loud, muffled pop echoed through the wooden rafters before Arthur could even touch Julian’s boots.
Julian staggered backward, his hands flying to his throat as his eyes widened in sheer disbelief.
A small silver dart with a feathered tail protruded from the side of his thick neck, leaking a clear, odorless fluid.
"You... crazy... bitch," Julian choked, his knees giving out beneath him as he crashed heavily onto the floorboards.
His limbs began to thrash violently, knocking over a stack of rusted oil drums that clattered across the boathouse floor.
"Aconite, darling," Eleanor remarked pleasantly, stepping over Julian’s convulsing legs as if they were nothing more than wet firewood.
"Three drops paralyze the vocal cords in five seconds, and stop the heart in two minutes," she added.
Arthur scrambled backward on his hands and knees, terror overtaking the exhaustion in his aching muscles.
Julian gasped once more, his fingernails digging deep grooves into the rotten floorboards before his body went completely still.
Eleanor stopped two feet in front of Arthur, looking down at him with those brilliant, empty blue eyes.
"Now that we have eliminated the unnecessary overhead, it’s just you and me again, Arthur," she whispered.
"You're a monster," Arthur breathed, his back hitting the cold, stone foundation of the boathouse wall.
"I am a businesswoman who refuses to retire poor," Eleanor corrected him, crouching down so their faces were level.
She reached out and stroked Arthur’s bruised cheek with her soft, leather-gloved fingers.
Arthur flinched away violently, his teeth grinding together in revulsion.
"The combination to the sub-floor safe is stored in your head, Arthur," Eleanor said softly, tapping his temple. "The candlestick only held the override cipher."
"I don't know any combination," Arthur spat, his eyes darting toward the open doorway where the snow was drifting inside.
"Our wedding date, the day Julian vanished, and your mother’s birthday," Eleanor whispered, reciting the milestones of his ruined life.
"You kept me sedated for months just to break down my memories," Arthur realized, his stomach plunging into an abyss.
"Every single night, darling," Eleanor chuckled, rising back to her full height. "And tonight, you are going to open that trapdoor for me."
She drew a small, snub-nosed revolver from her fur coat and pointed it directly between Arthur’s eyes.
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"Or I will shoot your kneecaps off and drag you down the ladder by your hair," she smiled.
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