Chapter Forty-Three

No Redemption

Victor paced the small living room furiously, his mind working at full speed. He was still digesting the new and important information he had acquired just a few minutes ago, though he couldn't quite get to where he knew he needed to be.

Something was missing, some important conclusion he knew was a game changer. He knew it was there, right in front of him, yet, for some reason, he was not fully seeing it. It frustrated him, for he was used to understand things quickly.

"Jonathan Hazenberg... He was Samuel Black's apprentice; he helped conduct the investigation... Do you know what that means?" he asked his friend, without stopping his frantic pacing and without taking his eyes off the ground.

"Unfortunately, I think I do," Preshea replied.

"It means I will have to kill him as well," he continued, as if she had never spoken.

"Oh, Victor..."

"Chances were I would have to do it anyway, sooner or later. At least now I can do it with pleasure," he grinned.

"With pleasure?" she repeated, her voice cracking.

"Yes." Victor finally looked at her with an expression of surprise, as if what he was saying was supposed to be obvious. "He's guilty. As guilty as any other who has met the same fate at my hands. Now I can do it without the act weighting down on my consciousness."

"You talk of committing murder... with pleasure? Without it weighting down on your consciousness?"

"Of course," he answered, once again looking at her as if he was speaking an undeniable, expected truth. "It is not murder; it is punishment, redemption, salvation."

"How did it come to this, Victor?" she whispered.

Victor finally stopped walking and decided to prepare himself a glass of whiskey. "You know how."

"How did you turn to this?"

He studied his friend. Preshea's tone was one of sadness, yet her expression was one of anger, as if it made her mad that he was who he was.

Victor took a sip of his drink and smiled with bitterness. "They made me, Preshea."

"Victor... I can't keep doing this," she told him, with pain written in her eyes. "I can't keep pretending this is alright. I..." Preshea took a deep breath a faced him with determination. "I love you. I always have."

"Then you should understand." He tore his eyes away from her, like he couldn't bear to face her at the moment.

"No!" Preshea got up from her seat and demanded his attention by grabbing his shoulder and turning him to her. "It is because I love you that I can't watch you do this! It is because I love you that I miss you so much... I can't be a part of your destruction. Not anymore."

Victor struggled and freed himself from her grasp. He walked a few feet away, almost as if her proximity burned him. "I was destroyed a long time ago."

"I know," she whispered. "But I always hoped you would come back to me."

"I did," he smiled. "Just not the same. Just not the way you wanted."

"It is not too late!" she spoke with desperation, walking to him again and latching onto his jacket. "There is still a way-"

Victor grabbed her hands and pulled them away from him, looking away and sighing, almost with annoyance. "Not this again, Preshea, please."

"Please, Victor, please listen to me!" she begged. "Please, for the last time... turn your back to this monstrosity before it is too late, before there's no turning back... while you can still come back from it, while you can still return to me. Let's... let's run away!" Preshea smiled, though she could not hide her desperation. It was clear it was her last hope and her deepest wish. "The two of us, let's leave this cursed city, before everything is lost. You can still seek redemption, you can still save yourself. Please Victor, let me help you. Let me save you. We could be so happy... free from everything. I promise I'll make you happy, I promise I'll help you heal. I'll help you forget, I'll help you come back."

He took a deep breath and eyed her with sadness. A grateful, yet pitiful smile grew on his lips. "What you offer me... you can't give. I'm sorry, Preshea." He shook his head. "There's no turning back."

Preshea sat down again, tears falling from her beautiful brown eyes. She hid her face with her hands, though she couldn't hide her sobs and trembling shoulders.

Victor looked away. "I have to go. There are still many questions that need to be answered. Something still isn't right. I need to find Hazenberg."

He walked to the door and Preshea whispered, "If you leave now... You won't return." She lifted her head and faced him with a determined expression. "Don't come back to me."

He smiled again and nodded, before opening the door and walking to the outside.

"Goodbye, dear friend."

***

Victor walked through the streets of St. Agnes aimlessly, wondering what his next move should be. He needed to see Hazenberg, he needed to kill him. He just had to plan the meeting and murder. The man should be in the Department at the moment, and it would defy the laws of stupidity and carelessness to go see him there.

No, he had to wait.

Wait, plan and then choose the right time. He also needed to be persuasive. Maybe give the detective a false promise of life if he were to tell him everything he knew. He needed to be cunning and manipulative. Jonathan Hazenberg had to live long enough to talk.

He would do it alone this time.

Wondering where to go, he considered the Skeffington's mansion, but then quickly thought better of it. Lenora would be there and she would ask him questions. He couldn't afford to worry about that at the moment. He really just wanted to be alone, to collect his thoughts and emotions and maybe even rest a little.

He sighed. He had no choice but to go home. He would lock himself inside his father's office and hope that Ethel wished to avoid him as much as he wanted to avoid her. If that didn't work, then he would think of someplace else to stay. There was always St. Agnes Grand Hotel, or some obscure inn where no one would care to ask him questions or wonder about his intentions.

He opened the front door and walked inside, praying inwardly that Ethel was upstairs and never even noticed his presence. He closed the door and took a few steps forward, only to stop immediately after.

Victor was frozen, paralyzed on the spot.

He was not alone. Someone was expecting him.

Alice and Joshua sat on the big couch. She looked strangely calm and collected, if a bit angry, while Josh looked downright terrified.

Victor couldn't blame him. The child had a gun pointed to his chest.

Sitting on the opposite couch was none other than a very relaxed and satisfied Chief Detective. Jonathan Hazenberg smiled at the sight of Victor, his smile widening as he noticed Victor's eyes scanning the room and absorbing the situation. The gun Hazenberg was holding moved direction in an instant, now aiming at Victor himself.

"Hello, Victor," Hazenberg said, as pleasantly and politely as if they were meeting for a casual cup of tea. Then he chuckled, "Oh, sorry. Hello, Gabriel."

Victor frowned, before chastising himself for letting his emotions show. He would not let Jonathan have the satisfaction of knowing how angry, surprised or fearful he might be. No, Victor von Mallesch would face adversity with a cold and strong stance. He had no idea what Jonathan was doing there, what he wanted, why he was pointing a gun at him and, most importantly, how he knew who he really was - but he wouldn't let the man know how much it affected him.

"I figured you would be looking for me, sooner or later," Jonathan continued, the same pleasant tone and smile on his voice and features. "I thought I may spare you the trouble. I noticed you looking through Miss Carwin's window. I know you went to talk to Lady Lenora. You're no fool. I knew you would be quick to figure it out. How much you already understood though... that's the question. Not to worry, I am here to help you with that." He finished his speech with a grin.

"Where are my sisters?" Victor asked, not able to fully disguise his concern and anger. "Ethel?" he called, looking at the stairs with hope. "Selina?"

Jonathan chuckled again. "Don't worry about them-"

Victor closed his fists and spoke through clenched teeth, "If you have hurt them-"

"I haven't. Not yet."

After hearing this, Victor closed his eyes for only a second, sighing in relief. He was ready then, to face whatever was coming with his head held high.

"It seems like I know your lovely sisters better than you do," Hazenberg continued, speaking with almost mockery. "They're not here. You seemed to be too distracted lately to even realize your younger sister is no longer living here. Selina moved to Madam Monique's Inn a few days ago."

Victor tried his best not to express his sudden fury at the fact that Jonathan was so aware of Selina's whereabouts and knew so much about them and their lives. How much more did he know? How had he found out? For how long? Why didn't he notice he was being watched?

"Your oldest sister," the detective proceeded, "is in her favorite place, I believe, doing her favorite thing: drinking in The Black Cat. They both seem very upset and distressed."

"Stay away from them."

"Victor..." Jonathan's smile grew. "You don't seem to realize how serious the situation is. I don't think you are in a position to make demands or threats. It also seems to me like you're focusing on the wrong things here." Hazenberg's expression went from one of pleasantness to a menacing one in a second, though he still appeared to be highly amused. Victor wasn't scared. It would take much more than that. "I wouldn't worry about your sisters, if I were you. You should worry about yourself. After all, you are the one with a gun pointed at your head."

Victor ignored Jonathan's attempt to frighten him. It was obvious to him that the detective would take pleasure in seeing him concerned or fearful. Instead, he looked at Alice and Joshua, before returning his eyes to the man with the gun and gestured towards the children. "Let them go."

"Again with the demands?"

"They're children," Victor continued, cold and mechanical as if nothing grave was happening. "They have nothing to do with us. They don't need to see this. Let them go."

"And have them calling you someone to help?" Jonathan asked, his eyebrows raised in entertained surprise.

"They won't," Victor explained, taking the freedom to walk closer to the three of them. "They can't. They're fugitives, they have to hide."

"Oh, I know. The sisters from the orphanage have asked my Department to search for two missing children. They fit the description perfectly. Hasn't been a priority but maybe I should give the kind ladies some rest."

"Do whatever you want, but later. They don't have to be here. You can easily find them once we're done." Without caring to wait for a reply, Victor returned his gaze towards the children and gestured towards the door. "Joshua, Alice, go."

Jonathan smiled again, but said nothing. Alice exchanged glances between the detective and Victor.

"But-"

"Go!" Victor yelled, interrupting her.

Alice frowned, but she nodded and obeyed. She grabbed Joshua's hand and pushed him from the couch, running with him towards the door.

"Alice, dear?" Jonathan called, without tearing his eyes off Victor. Alice stopped abruptly, both her and Joshua's attention back to the detective. "Speak one word of this to anyone and I will make sure you never see your brother again." He then finally looked at her and smiled with fake gentleness. "Understand, sweetheart?"

Alice returned his stare with disgust and hate and pulled Joshua to the exit with more strength and urgency. They were quick to leave and, as soon as the door was closed behind them, the two remaining men faced each other again.

The detective got up from his seat, his gun always pointed at Victor.

"Alone at last," he smirked. "Now, let's have ourselves an enlightening conversation, shall we? You and me."

Victor couldn't help but grin at the confidence and amusement coming from the older man. He was not afraid, in fact, now that the surprise was wearing off, he was beginning to see the situation with new eyes. This could be a wonderful opportunity, after all. He would never let himself become an easy opponent.

Jonathan eyed him with hunger.

"I have been waiting for this, von Mallesch."