The Tomb (Repairman Jack)

'I believe his surname is Nelson,' the Indian said.

'No, I'm sure it's Jeffers. Isn't it, Miss DiLauro? You know him best, I believe.'

Gia wanted to laugh. How could she tell them Jack's last name when she wasn't sure herself.

'Jack is Jack,' she said as tactfully as she could.

'He is that!' Burkes said with a laugh. 'He recently helped Mr. Bahkti with a difficult matter.'

'Oh?' Gia said, trying not to sound arch. 'A security matter?' That was how Jack was first introduced to her: a security consultant.

'Personal,' the Indian said, and that was all.

Gia wondered, about that. What had the UK Mission used Jack for? And Mr. Bahkti, a UN diplomat—why would he need Jack? These were respectable members of the international diplomatic community. What could they want 'fixed'? To her surprise, she detected an enormous amount of respect in their voices when they spoke of him. It baffled her.

'But anyway,' Burkes said, 'I was thinking perhaps he could be of use in finding your sister, Nellie.'

Gia was looking at Mr. Bahkti as Burkes was speaking and she could have sworn she saw the Indian flinch. She did not have time to confirm the impression because she turned to give Nellie a quick warning look: They’d promised Jack no one would know he was working for her.

'A marvelous idea, Eddie,' Nellie said, catching Gia's glance and not missing a beat. 'But I'm sure the police are doing all that can be done. However, if it—'

'Well, speak of the devil!' Burkes said, interrupting her and staring toward the entrance.

Before Gia turned to follow his gaze, she glanced again at Mr. Bahkti, who was already looking in the direction Burkes had indicated. On his dark face she saw a look of fury so deep, so fierce, that she stepped away from him for fear that he might explode. She searched the other end of the room to see what could cause such a reaction. And then she saw him...and her.

Jack…dressed in an old-fashioned tuxedo with tails, white tie, and winged collar. He looked wonderful. Against her will, her heart leaped at the sight of him—That's only because he's a fellow American among all these foreigners—and then crashed. For on his arm was one of the most striking women Gia had ever seen.

9.

Vicky was supposed to be asleep. It was way past her bedtime. She’d tried to push herself into slumber, but it just wouldn't come. Too hot. She lay on top of the bedsheet to get cool. The air conditioning didn't work so well up here on the third floor. Despite her favorite pink shorty pajamas, her dolls, and her new Rascal to keep her company, she still couldn't sleep. Eunice had done all she could, from sliced oranges—Vicky loved oranges and couldn't get enough of them—to reading her a story. Nothing worked. Finally, Vicky had faked sleep just so Eunice wouldn't feel bad.

Usually when she couldn't sleep it was because she was worrying about Mommy. Sometimes when Mommy went out at night she had a bad feeling, a feeling that she'd never come back, that she'd been caught in an earthquake or a tornado or a car wreck. On those nights she'd pray and promise to be good forever if only Mommy got home safe. It hadn't failed yet.

But Vicky wasn't worried tonight. Mommy was out with Aunt Nellie and Aunt Nellie would take care of her. Worry wasn't keeping her awake.

It was the chocolates.

Vicky could not get those chocolates out of her mind. She’d never seen a box like that—black with gold trim and a big red rose on the top. All the way from England. And the name: Black Magic! The name alone was enough to keep her awake.

She had to see them. It was as simple as that. She had to go down there and look in that box and see the 'Dark Assortment' promised on the lid.

With Ms. Jelliroll tucked securely under her arm, she crawled out of bed and headed for the stairs. Down to the second floor landing without a sound, and then down to the first. The slate floor of the foyer was cool under her feet. Down the hall came voices and music and flickery light from where Eunice was watching television in the library. Vicky tiptoed across the foyer to the front parlor where she’d seen Aunt Nellie put the box of chocolates.

She found it sitting on an end table. The cellophane was off. Vicky placed Ms. Jelliroll on the little couch, seated herself beside her, then pulled the Black Magic box onto her lap. She started to lift the lid, then stopped.

Mommy would have a fit if she came in now and found her sitting here. Bad enough that she was out of bed, but to have Aunt Nellie's chocolates too!

Vicky felt no guilt, however. In a way, this box should be hers, even if she was allergic to chocolate. It was from her father, after all. She’d hoped that when Mommy stopped home today she would find a package there just for her. But no. Nothing from Daddy.

Vicky ran her fingers over the rose on the lid. Pretty. Why couldn't this be hers? Maybe after Aunt Nellie finished the chocolates she'd let Vicky keep the box.

How many are left?

She lifted the lid. The rich, heavy smell of dark chocolate enveloped her, and with it the subtler odors of all the different fillings. And another smell, hiding just underneath the others, a smell she wasn't quite sure of. But who cared? The chocolate overpowered everything else. Saliva poured into her mouth. She wanted one. Oh, how she wanted just one bite.

She tilted the box to better see the contents in the light from the foyer. No empty slots! None of the chocolates was missing! At this rate it would take forever before she got the empty box. But then she forgot about the box. Chocolates…the chocolates…

She picked up a piece from the middle, wondering what was inside. It was cool to the touch but within seconds the chocolate coating became soft.

She held it to her nose. It didn't smell quite so good up close. Maybe it had something yucky inside, like