The Cult of Osiris

Osiris had just had its engine started, the chiselled young blond man in the cockpit grinning up at Osir as he blipped the throttle.

‘Ladies and gentlemen! It seems one of the drivers is impatient to get to the race!’ boomed Osir, to laughter from the partygoers. Cameras flashed as he went to the car and shook the driver’s hand. ‘Mikko Virtanen, everyone - who I am sure will be not only the winner of tomorrow’s grand prix, but soon the world champion!’

The guests cheered; the engine note fell to an idling crackle as Osir began a speech in his role as the team’s major sponsor. Nina looked back towards Casino Square. Still no Eddie. She turned to Osir again - and found that Diamondback had materialised in front of her, leering. ‘Lookin’ for someone, li’l lady?’ he asked.

‘Anyone but you.’

‘Aw, now that’s unfortunate. ’Cause you’re gonna keep on seeing me, since Mr Shaban asked me to stay close to Mr Osir’s special guest and make sure she don’t get into any . . . mischief.’

‘I assure you, I have no intention of getting into any mischief,’ she said, voice acidic. ‘Certainly not with Mr Osir.’

‘He’ll be real disappointed to hear that.’ Diamondback laughed, then re-joined Shaban, who was watching Nina with evident suspicion.

Osir concluded his speech, and after exchanging pleasantries with some of the guests returned to Nina. ‘It’s a little loud out here,’ he said, gesturing at another door. ‘The ballroom will be quieter, I think.’ She was slightly surprised when he took her hand to escort her across the courtyard, but didn’t object. Shaban, Diamondback and the bodyguards followed as they walked away, the car revving behind them.

Even through the noise of a busy evening in Casino Square, Eddie heard the distinctive V8 roar from the Casino d’Azur. ‘Sounds like the right place.’

Macy regarded the building nervously as they crossed the road. ‘I hope she’s still okay.’

‘She should be - for now. Osir wouldn’t have brought her if she hadn’t convinced him she can figure out the zodiac. Problem’s going to be getting her out once she does it.’

‘So what’s the plan?’

‘Find her. Then after that . . . I’ll tell you as I make it up.’

‘That doesn’t fill me with confidence.’

Eddie grinned. ‘Trust me. I’ve done this sort of thing before.’

‘And how did it turn out?’

‘Usually with exploding helicopters.’

Macy giggled, then tailed off. ‘That wasn’t a joke, was it?’

‘Just remember to dive if I tell you.’ They reached the casino entrance. ‘Okay, got your passport?’

Admission to casinos in Monaco is closely governed; legally, the native Monegasques are forbidden to enter the institutions from which their government derives a large part of its revenue. There was also the dress code to consider, but Eddie and Macy now looked the part. He wore a black tux; she a low-cut minidress in a clinging, colour-shifting metallic fabric. Eddie had wanted her to pick something less conspicuous, but her argument had simply been that she was paying for it and wasn’t going to be seen in anything ‘sucky’.

She handed him her passport. ‘Here. Can you keep hold of it? It barely fits in my purse.’

‘Never understood that about women,’ Eddie said. ‘You cart all this crap around with you, but only have a bag the size of a hamster’s scrotum to put it all in.’ He idly flipped open the passport to look at her picture - then noticed something else on the page and burst out laughing.

‘No, no, don’t read that!’ Macy shrieked, but too late to stop him seeing her full name.

‘Macarena?’ he cackled. ‘That’s your real name, Macarena? As in . . .’ He hummed a few tuneless notes, then did a quick dance move. ‘Ay, Macarena!’

‘Shut. Up!’ Macy snapped. ‘I hate that song. It came out when I was a kid, and made my life absolute hell. So I’m just Macy, okay? Don’t call me that other thing or I’ll kick your ass.’ She considered whom she was threatening. ‘Okay, not going to happen, but I’ll still be pissed at you. And don’t tell Dr Wilde, either.’ ‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ said Eddie, already trying to think up the funniest way to do exactly that.

He showed their passports to the doormen, then had an idea and asked how to find the Team Osiris party, receiving directions in return. Following them, he and Macy reached the gaming room. He could hear the idling racing car outside even through the closed and curtained high windows; casinos invariably kept gamblers shielded from the cycles of night and day, preferring them to lose track of time while playing.

Two more doormen guarded the courtyard door, politely but firmly turning them away when they were unable to produce an invitation. Eddie peered past them, seeing no sign of Nina or Osir - though he did notice people going through a doorway into another part of the casino.

Looking past the banks of slot machines along the room’s side he saw another exit, a second pair of casino employees in attendance. From their position, he guessed that the doors led into the room people were entering from the courtyard. Music came from the other side as he and Macy passed them.

‘Party’s probably in there,’ he said as they headed for the far end of the gaming room. There was a door in the corner, through which he saw a member of the casino staff enter. No keypad or card lock, just an ordinary Yale, so it didn’t lead to any of the secure money-handling areas. ‘I’m going to gatecrash it.’

‘Oh, I’m an expert at that,’ Macy said. ‘Right behind you.’

‘No, you’re not. Osir’ll probably have his own security in there,’ he explained, seeing that she was about to object, ‘and I don’t want to give ’em the chance to grab you. If you’re in here and anything happens, at least you can kick up a stink. They won’t do anything in public.’

‘But what if they grab you?’

‘They’ll be sorry. Wait here and keep an eye out for me.’

She was annoyed, but remained where she was as Eddie moved away, pretending to take an interest in a nearby game of blackjack while watching the door in the corner.

It wasn’t long before it opened to admit another casino worker. Eddie waited for her to pass, then quickly slipped behind her into the corridor beyond. In one direction lay the casino’s kitchens; in the other a similar service door led into the function room.

He opened it and glanced through the crack, seeing at least a hundred people, some playing at more gaming tables, others engaged in conversation. A few couples waltzed round an open area of floor before a string quartet.

He tensed as he spotted Diamondback, his snakeskin jacket unmistakable. If he was there, Shaban probably was too, which also meant . . .

‘There you are, you bugger.’ Osir was seated at a blackjack table - and Nina was beside him, dressed to the nines.

He made his way past the dancers. Diamondback - and Shaban, he saw - stood several yards from the cult leader, in discussion with another group. There were some suited hulks closer to Osir, bodyguards, but they wouldn’t recognise him. Keeping partygoers between himself and Shaban, Eddie headed for the table.

Nina had three cards in her hand, totalling eighteen points; Osir, beside her, was standing on nineteen, while the dealer’s visible card was a king. The two other players had bust. She pursed her lips. ‘Hmm. Tough choice.’

‘The odds are not in your favour,’ Osir told her.

‘I dunno. I feel lucky tonight.’ She tapped the table. ‘Hit me.’

The dealer put down another card. A three.

‘Twenty-one,’ Nina crowed. ‘Whaddya know?’ The dealer turned over his hole card; a jack. More chips were slid across to Nina’s pile.

Osir laughed. ‘You are very lucky tonight.’

‘Ah, not so much. My mom taught me how to play when I was a kid - all the stuff about when to hit and when to stand’s coming back. Plus, I’m good at math.’

He gave her a sly smile. ‘Are you admitting to card-counting, Nina? The casino won’t like that.’

She had been - even with four decks in the shoe, enough cards had been played for her to calculate that the number of remaining low-value cards was relatively high and adjust her strategy accordingly - but decided he didn’t need to know about her skill at mental arithmetic. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ she said instead. ‘Besides, it’s your party - and your money. So you get to make the rules.’