"I am glad to hear you say that. As you can see, I have amassed considerable wealth over the years and I am also aware how easily these can be taken away from me. That would have been the case had I not discovered the duplicity of someone I placed my trust to." Dante heaved a sigh, his eyes appeared to be searching the far wall.
"I don't know what more reassurance I can give you, Sir, but I'm sure you have heard of our firm's reputation and our promise to all our clients," said Jon, remembering the marketing materials he was required to read at the start of his employment. "We have been in the business for more than a century and we have grown with our partners over the years. In fact-"
"It is not your firm that I'm worried about." Dante cut Jon mid-speech. "I have had transactions with your firm many years ago. What I am looking for is someone whom I could trust with my work, someone who would see it through whatever happens."
Dante seemed composed as he faced Jon. "I can call you Jon, can't I? You can call me Dante from now on. You mentioned that you had a long journey, so you must be exhausted."
Jon nodded and Dante took out a tiny bronze bell which he rang. The attendant reentered the hall upon hearing the bell, immediately followed by a manservant in dark blue uniform. Dante spoke, "Pablo will lead you to your room upstairs. You will see that your bags are already there. You can get into something more comfortable. Then, you can go back down to have dinner."
Jon was relieved that he could finally get some rest after the long journey and turned to follow Pablo who had started going towards the stairs.
Then, in what seemed to be an afterthought, Dante added, "After dinner, Pablo will guide you to the library so that we can start right away.
Jon turned and locked eyes with Dante. As tired as he was, Jon found it impossible to refuse his client. He nodded his assent and, as instructed, followed Pablo to his assigned room. Pablo closed the door behind him after reminding Jon that dinner would be served in two hours. Jon would only be able to take a quick shower, probably take out a few clothes from his luggage, and change into more comfortable ones that would still be presentable to his client.
Jon looked around and found his room richly furnished with heavy drapes covering the glass windows. He opened the drapes to look out, but aside from the few lights on the lawn in front of the mansion, he could not see anything else. Dark clouds had once again covered the moon, making him blind to what was beyond the lawn. The sea was likewise a vast expanse of blackness. Jon covered the windows again and after deciding on a shirt to wear, went out of the room.
On the way downstairs, Jon was met by a nervous looking maid wearing a white apron. The maid looked surprised when she almost bumped into Jon.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Sir," she said, holding her hand against her breast. "You gave me quite a fright." Then, straightening her apron, she calmed her face and told Jon, "Please come with me, Sir. I was asked to take you to the dining room."
The maid walked a few paces ahead of Jon and took measured steps as if worried that she would slip. She looked around her nervously as if expecting someone or something to spring up from behind a pillar or a piece of furniture.
Finally, the maid pushed open a door and beckoned at Jon to follow her inside a large dining room. Like the entrance hall, Jon found the dining room exquisitely decorated. A crystal chandelier similar to the one in the entrance hall hung above the long table made of rosewood. The chairs were made of the same hardwood and upholstered in blood red velvet that was quite soft and comfortable.
Jon was beckoned to the end of the table. The manservant Pablo pulled out a chair for Jon who was immediately served hot soup by the maid. The broth was so delicious and envigorating that Jon forgot about his long journey. He had nearly emptied the bowl when he noticed that he was eating alone. He wondered where his host was.
"Is Mr. Dante coming? Should I have waited for him?" Jon asked the maid while feeling uneasy for starting dinner without his host.
"The master always eats alone," came the maid's reply. She opened her mouth as if to say more, but upon seeing Pablo, simply withdrew to a corner and bowed her head.
Relieved that he did not have to wait for Dante, Jon continued to eat in silence and felt his stomach distend with the intake of delicious food served before him. The maid and the manservant were always there to pour water or to take out the used plates. Quite satisfied with the full meal, Jon wiped his mouth with the napkin and noticed the embroidered initials on the fine linen - what looked like a stylized D was intertwined with a C, or was it an O? Probably the initials of Dante de Orsica, his client's full name, which was the same as the island. Jon wondered if the island took its name from Dante's ancestors or vice versa.
When Jon had finished, he was ushered by Pablo to the library where Jon saw Dante sitting at the table with an open laptop. Dante raised his head slowly as Jon entered the dimmed room. The light coming from the laptop gave Dante's face a somewhat deathly pallor. His lips, however, were unusually red and his eyes a deep black that glistened with the reflected light from the laptop's screen. He wore a thick coat although Jon felt that the room was not that cold. Jon wondered whether his client was suffering from some kind of malady that also rendered him cold and pale.
Dante took a cursory glance at Jon, then motioned for Jon to join him at the table. Jon sat on the proffered seat and took out his laptop.
"I prefer to work at night, so I'm afraid you'll have to do the same," said Dante, his eyes going back to the monitor. "It is at night that I feel most alive. People who work in the day do not know the exhilaration that we nocturnal workers feel." Jon nodded and wondered if he would be expected to work all night tonight.
Dante lifted his head and glanced at Jon who was already searching among his files.
"Do you know what it is that I do, Jon?" asked Dante.
"Your dossier says that you're an art collector, Sir," said Jon.
"Have you ever wondered..." began Dante. "...how it's like living in a place like this?" He waved his hand in emphasis. "Tell me, when you look around the house, what do you see?"
"I see an impressive collection of paintings and sculptures," answered Jon. There was silence from Dante, so Jon continued, "I like going to art museums and exhibits, but I haven't given it much thought to collect paintings or to live surrounded by them."
"I collect art, but not just art." Dante held out a finger. "I collect the souls of the artists who created them. Whenever I look at my collection, I see the thoughts and feelings of the artists as they created their work. I look at the painting of Charon ferrying souls on the Styx and I see the painter who lost loved ones during the plague. I look at Hannibal battling Roman soldiers and I see an artist who had witnessed war and death. Look at gladiators fighting to the death and feel the rebellious anger of a painter who lost ten years of his life in prison."
Dante paused and his expression became more friendly and less intense as he looked at Jon.
“Nowadays, I don't just get to collect art, but also sell them. An art dealer’s work is made easier now with all this technology that gives me access to resources that allow me to deal with different auction houses around the world. At last, I could indulge my passion for art and my body's proclivity to nocturnal work. Right now, two of the largest auction houses in the world are open and I am interested in a painting that one of them is auctioning off. Which reminds me..."
Dante looked at his monitor and after a few seconds said, "Let me finish with this transaction first."
Dante's eyes merely glanced at Jon before returning to his laptop. His gaze was intense as he looked at the laptop monitor, his long fingers moving deftly across the keyboard like a pianist. After a few minutes, he straightened his back and looked at Jon. "Done. I have just acquired one curious painting by Bill Grady."
"The American serial killer?" asked Jon, stunned. He was not aware that the serial killer could paint. Furthermore, he asked himself if anyone in the right state of mind would want to own paintings from the notorious murderer. "Wasn't he executed for his crimes three decades ago?" Jon asked his client.
"Which makes his work even more valuable," replied Dante. "I find his self-portraits as a clown interesting and his paintings of his murder scenes captivating. His painting of his basement where he kept his victims imprisoned fetched two hundred thousand dollars in a recent auction and guess who sold it at more than three times its original purchase price?"
"You?" Jon asked Dante, but he already guessed the answer.
"Yes. It was a profitable transaction," came the reply. "People have always been fascinated with serial killers, don't you think? Just look at the most popular crime fiction and you'll find that a lot of them are about serial killers."
Jon tried to recall the crime films that he had seen and he could tell that what Dante was suggesting might be plausible.
"Violence had always fascinated humans," continued Dante. "The early stories told in ancient times were often about the hunt for prey or how warriors killed men from their enemy tribes. The gladiators of ancient Rome killed for the entertainment of the early Romans."
Dante was silent for a while so Jon asked, "Should we get started?"
Jon was eager to start so that he could rest for the night and opened one of his files. "We have scoured different places in the country with your criteria and we were able to come up with four areas…"
"Let's put that aside for now." Dante interrupted Jon. "You see, I want to know with whom I am doing business first. You were highly recommended by your firm to handle my account."
"Yes. I was told that I was selected to take care of your account." Jon suddenly felt that he was at a job interview. "I have handled high profile clients in the past and I am proud to say that they were very much satisfied with how I handled their transactions."
"I'm sure." Dante said flatly. "But I have my own way of choosing the people I give my trust to." He then turned away to look at a nearby painting. "I was speaking with Captain Salazar earlier and he told me of your conversations on your way here."
Jon remembered the incident with the sharks and the poor crew member whom they said got attacked. He felt nauseated as he remembered the white sheets wrapping the body of the crew and the blood smearing the white deck of the yacht. "There was an unfortunate accident. I am sad for the family of the crew."
"Yes, I believe there was that little incident with the sharks. It must have troubled you. I am, however, more interested in your impressions of the surrealist works of Salvador Dali."
The water was clear and Lisa had no trouble seeing the cave opening just ahead. Before swimming through the opening, she took a quick look behind her and saw Nestie just behind her. Lisa gave Nestie a quick wave and shot through the opening of the cave with broad strokes of her arms and legs. Lisa swam to the surface and was quickly amazed at what she saw. The sun shining through the opening of the grotto made the water luminous, turning it from emerald to a glowing neon. She looked at her hands from under the water and saw the fine bubbles on her skin turning her hands into silver. She looked up at the ceiling and saw the ripples in the water reflected on the high dome of the grotto, giving the cavern an otherworldly appearance. The stalactites hanging from the ceiling glinted in the green light and looked like numerous fingers reaching for the water below. Nestie’s head bobbed out of the water and he quickly wiped the water from his face with his hands. Lisa watched his friend’s re
The boat glided over the water, leaving ripples in its wake. The boatman jumped aboard and started the engine, steering the boat towards one of the many islets that dotted the sea. Nestie turned his head and looked at the cliff that they had just descended. He swallowed hard before saying to Lisa. “I can’t believe we descended from that,” he said. “Are we going back the same way?” Lisa smiled as she saw the expression on Nestie’s face. Her friend took the front seat on the boat while she sat behind him. “Do you want to?” Lisa asked. “I don’t know if I can make it,” Nestie replied. Then, he added. “Maybe I can, but you will have to pull me up.” Lisa laughed at Nestie and pinched his back. “Ow! What was that for?” asked Nestie, rubbing his back which Lisa had just pinched. “For being so adorable!” Lisa answered. “Look ahead of you and enjoy the scenery. Don’t you think the islets and the rock formations look stunning?” Nestie loo
Upon alighting from the tricycle, Nestie saw the ocean and the tall cliffs that surrounded a wide beach. They were a short distance from the sandy coast where several boats were docked. Out on the sea were numerous islets that rose from the water like the backs of turtles or upturned boats. Several of the islands were connected to each other like a pearl necklace, the sea between them becoming labyrinthine for boats to navigate through. Fortunately, the islets also served a purpose in protecting the moored boats on the small beach where Lisa and Nestie were standing as well as the inner islets in the archipelago from the strong currents and big waves coming from the open ocean. “Do you like what you’re seeing so far, Nestie?” asked Lisa who had just paid the tricycle driver and stood beside Nestie to admire the scenery. “I’ve seen so many coasts in my life, but this is still breathtaking!” remarked Nestie, drinking in the scene before him. They were on top of a cliff
Lisa woke up from the sound of birds outside the window. She slowly opened her eyes and saw the room flooded with golden light. She stretched her arms and rubbed her eyes before sitting up in bed. It looked like it was going to be a good day, she thought as she looked around the brightly-lit room. Celie was still sleeping soundly so Lisa silently got off her bed and prepared to take her morning shower. It was good that Celie was able to sleep without any incident. Her cousin needed to have a good night’s rest if she were to look great for her birthday party. After taking her shower and putting on her usual comfortable clothes of jeans and a cotton shirt, Lisa noiselessly left the room. She then walked to Nestie’s room and knocked on the door. “Come in, Lisa,” came Nestie’s voice and Lisa twisted the door knob. “How was your sleep last night, Nes?” asked Lisa. Nestie had already changed and was combing his hair. “Very well. Thank you,” replied Nestie.
Lisa lay in bed with her blankets to her neck. Celie was right. It was a cold night. Lisa, however, could not figure out why Celie insisted on having the windows open despite the cold. Her cousin’s actions had been a bit erratic and illogical these past days, thought Lisa. She knew that her cousin tended to be unpredictable at times even when they were young. Back then, it could just be attributed to their youth; Lisa, herself, remembered doing some wild things with Celie. However, they were now grown women and very much in control of their actions. Lisa could understand Celie’s predicament of having to live under public scrutiny and always acting as a model figure for her father’s citizens, but Celie’s sudden disappearances and escape from her security detail were quite irresponsible. There was a quick snort coming from Celie’s bed and Celie moved restlessly to one side. Lisa looked at her cousin and wondered where she had gone after her photo shoot at the Home for the Elde
“Is that you, Lisa love?” came Celie’s drowsy voice as Lisa entered the guest room. The lights were off and Lisa could only tell from the dark shape over the bed that her cousin was already lying down as if ready to sleep. “Yes, Celie,” said Lisa, looking at her cousin. “It seems too early for you to be sleeping. Would you mind if I turn on the lights?” Lisa switched on the lights and saw that her cousin was in bed with her blankets drawn up to her neck. There was a soft moan from Celie. “Oh, sorry. Is the light too bright?” asked Lisa. “N-no,” came Celie’s reply. “Keep the lights on.” Lisa was about to walk towards her bed when she noticed Celie’s face. Celie’s face was ashen and her lips were pale. “You look pale, Celie. Are you sick?” asked Lisa worriedly. “No. I’m alright, Lisa. Don’t mind me. I just feel tired, that’s all,” came Celie’s reply. “Sorry to hear that,” said Lisa. She nevertheless went towards Celie and