Chain of Vengeance: Chapter Seven - Part Three

“How are you going to spend the Catholic billions?” said the reporter, stepping into Jack’s space, forcing him to move backwards.

“Er, I don’t know,” he stammered, off-balance himself now.

“What does it feel like to be rich?”

Jack glanced at the girl then back to the reporter. The reporter followed his gaze with his next question. “How well are you acquainted with Molly Butler? Are you aware that she is your uncle’s daughter? That she should have been the one to inherit the money instead of you?”

Jack stepped back further, confused. He hadn’t realised there had been a daughter as such. He hadn’t considered the eventuality of meeting her. She was beautiful but there was a change now in her expression from the one she had worn when he interceded on her behalf. She looked angry, but there was something else in her expression. She was staring straight at him.

“Are you aware that she has stated she disagrees in your uncle’s choice to leave the money to you; that she believes she should have had it?”

The reporter pushed the recorder right up to his mouth. Jack felt a tree come up against his back. He grabbed the machine right out of the reporter’s hand and pushed him away. Jack’s eyes were tiny and black. He held the Dictaphone at arm’s length, his other hand on the reporter’s shoulder, then calmly, he said, “I’m not going to answer any of your questions and neither is Ms Butler. You might as well leave us alone right now.”

He was at least a head taller than the reporter. There was fear in the little man’s expression, wiping out the cockiness, then the cockiness returned and the reporter snatched back his recorder and walked away.

Jack turned back to the woman. She was about ten feet away from him, watching his face. Her expression was still mask-like; he didn’t have words for what he read there. She frowned, turning her body half away from him.

“There,” said Jack, “we’re free again.”

“Great,” she replied, her voice sarcastic and low. “Thanks a lot.”

He sighed very quietly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Good.”

She started to move away.

“He was crazy,” said Jack.

Molly paused and smiled briefly. “Yeah.”

“Absolutely insane.”

She smiled again but it seemed forced. He stepped closer. “Don’t bother,” she said, moving further away. “Thanks a lot for saving me back there but basically I don’t really want to get to know you… Sorry.”

He stopped where he was, startled.

“He was right, by the way,” she said. “I do think my father was wrong to give you the money. It should have belonged to me and my brother.” She looked very sad suddenly but resentful that he was seeing it.

“I’m sorry,” said Jack. “I didn’t have anything to do with that. Maybe you’re right.”

She looked down at the grass at her feet. “But I’m not really,” she replied. “Because I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve a cent of his money.”

“Why not?” asked Jack.

“Because I’m responsible,” she said, turning away. “I’m responsible for what happened to him. For his death.”

She walked away under the trees. Jack stepped one or two paces after her, but that was all.