Unmistakable Hatred
After returning from Glenford, Annette went nearly a week without seeing Heiner's face.
It was nothing remarkable. Even before she had demanded a divorce, they had hardly ever crossed paths. The residence was vast and their spheres of movement different; unless one of them sought the other out, each simply lived their own life.
After the revolution, seeking the other out had mostly been Annette's role. Things had shifted a little once talk of divorce began, but now, as far as she was concerned, there was no reason to look for him unless it concerned the divorce itself.
Birdsong clamored loudly beyond the window. Annette slipped the documents detailing the donation records into a file folder, then opened the safe inside the wardrobe. After placing the folder inside, she took out her jewel case. She emptied the jewels stored within into a paper bag and pressed the call button. Presently a servant entered the room.
"Miss Ritzburg. There's something I'd like you to do—go to a nearby jeweler and…"
"Yes, madam."
"…"
"Please go on, madam."
When Annette did not continue, the servant looked puzzled. After thinking a moment, Annette shook her head with a faint smile.
"Never mind. I'll go myself."
"If you mean to purchase jewels, I can bring a catalog…"
"I'd rather see them at the shop. Would you have the driver ready?"
"Certainly."
The moment the servant left, the smile vanished from Annette's face. She changed into outdoor clothes and put on a veiled hat. Gloved, she left the building with the paper bag in hand. Naturally, one attendant fell into step behind her.
The attendant opened the rear door. Once inside, Annette asked the driver,
"Is there a jeweler nearby that isn't crowded?"
"Ah… in that case, what about Huffin Jewelers? Though it's set back in an alley, so we'll have to park on the main road and walk a bit."
"That's fine. Take me there."
As a driver accustomed to ferrying ladies of quality about, he knew the jewelers thoroughly. He turned the wheel with practiced ease and changed course.
Before long the car pulled to a stop along the avenue. Annette walked into the alley lined with shops. When they reached Huffin Jewelers, the attendant said,
"I'll wait outside, madam."
Welcome words. Annette gave a slight nod and stepped inside.
"Welcome."
The jeweler greeted her with rather perfunctory courtesy. Annette set the paper bag on the display case and said,
"I want to dispose of all of it."
"Have you had them appraised elsewhere first?"
"No."
The jeweler glanced into the bag, then fitted a loupe to his eye.
"One moment, please."
There were not many jewels. The Rosenberg family fortune had all been confiscated, and she herself, as one of the Valdemars, had been forced by public opinion to donate most of what she still possessed. The reason for suddenly selling even the few pieces set aside as emergency funds was simple.
It was to prevent a future in which, after her death, they would appear in the papers or go to auction under the label "jewels once owned by Dietrich's daughter."
While the jeweler conducted the appraisal, Annette browsed the pieces on display. She had always liked jewels—not because they were expensive, but simply because she loved things that sparkled.
Heiner had known that taste of hers. On every outing they had shared in the past, he had invariably bought something glittering and pressed it into her hand. Jewels, beads, glasswork…
"Do you realize my whole room is full of your gifts? At this rate I'll be crushed to death."
"That would be a problem if it happened so easily."
"Is this some grand scheme of yours to crush me under them?"
"Something like that. I intend to let you live surrounded by every shining thing."
"Ahaha—is that a proposal, by any chance?"
"I'll make a proper proposal far more splendid than this."
There had been a time when the world had felt more radiant simply because he was with her.
Annette rested a light hand on the glass of the case and looked inside with dry eyes. Everything within was dazzling and bright, yet none of it moved her any longer.
"Finished, madam. If you'd please check the list."
The jeweler, appraisal complete, slid across a sheet with prices itemized.
"All told, I can give you two thousand three hundred pounds. Any questions?"
"Please dispose of them for that."
"Ah—yes. Of course."
Something faintly awkward colored the jeweler's voice. Annette withdrew her gaze from the list with an expression of complete indifference. Whether he had lowballed the price or not made no difference. The lower the figure, the better, in fact.
Suddenly the diamond ring on the fourth finger of her left hand caught her eye. Larger and more beautiful than any jewel in the case, it was the wedding band Heiner had given her when he proposed.
Annette slipped the ring off and held it out to the owner.
"How much for this diamond ring? I'd like to dispose of it as well."
"May I have a look?"
After examining it, the jeweler let out a low murmur of admiration.
"Well now. This alone would fetch over seven thousand pounds. I'm sorry, but our shop hasn't the means to cover that sum. You'll need a larger house."
"…I see."
Annette took the ring back, hesitated a moment, then dropped it into her bag.
The owner counted out a check and handed her an envelope containing the payment. Without even verifying the amount, Annette left the shop.
The attendant waiting at the door fell into step at once. Annette walked slowly out of the alley.
Two thousand three hundred pounds. Not a small sum. The stones had not been large, yet all of them fine pieces, so it was only natural.
And yet one ring alone was worth seven thousand…
Even in her maiden days she had never owned a jewel of that caliber. Had Heiner believed that only an expensive ring could satisfy her when he proposed?
It was not difficult to picture how he must have seen her then.
A foolish girl born into a house of power, knowing nothing of how the world turned. A vain creature raised without lack, free to do and have whatever she pleased.
Not that he was wrong.
Annette thought with self-mockery as she emerged onto the avenue. She glanced around and saw the car parked at the curb. Then, meeting what felt like a sudden gaze, she looked again.
A man stood beneath a streetlamp. Young—at most in his early twenties—he was staring straight at her. Even when their eyes met, he did not look away.
Is he looking at me?
Fearing he might have recognized her, Annette hastily pressed her hat lower. Yet the man's eyes remained fixed on her. Something strange and intense stirred within them.
Those eyes.
A chill crawled over her skin.
Shuddering, Annette instinctively stepped back. Instinct warned her to flee. In that same instant the man drew something from his waist.
Beneath the sunlight a silver gleam flashed in the shape of a cross. That gleam was leveled at her.
The entire sequence seemed to unfold in slow motion.
Annette spun instinctively toward the attendant. Surprise flooded his face. He reached toward her.
Bang!
A gunshot cracked past. The attendant seized her shoulder.
Bang!
A searing heat bloomed in her side. Annette froze for a heartbeat, drawing a ragged breath. The attendant shoved her behind him and drew his own pistol.
Bang! Bang! Gunfire rolled down the midday avenue. Still trading shots with the attacker, the attendant thrust Annette toward the front of the car. Her stumbling steps gave way.
"Get down and stay hidden!"
Annette sank to the ground in front of the car, breathing in broken sobs. Cold rose from the pavement. Her shoulders jerked irregularly.
"Madam! Are you all right?"
The driver, leaping from the car, hastily checked her condition. He looked down and his eyes went wide.
"G-good God, madam!"
Her lips trembled violently. Annette slowly lifted the hand that had been pressed to her side. Thick red blood coated the palm.
A sharp pain surged up from her lower abdomen, as though she had been riddled with shots. Clutching her belly clumsily, Annette shook.
"Madam… just a moment… to the hospital at once…"
The driver's voice rose and fell in broken snatches, like a damaged phonograph. Annette gasped for air. Her mind felt damp and distant, as if submerged.
Supported by the driver, she leaned her back against the car. When she managed to lift her head, a deep blue sky filled her vision. It was blinding.
Beside her the driver said something, but the words did not reach her ears. Annette exhaled a thin breath and thought blankly,
He should have aimed for the head.
Then she could have gone all at once, without pain.
Her vision flickered. It was strange. The wound was clearly in her side, yet a terrible pain flooded everything below her chest, as if she had been smashed to pieces.
Was this simply what it felt like to be shot? She had never been hurt this badly in her life, so she had not known. The fingertips trailing on the ground twitched intermittently.
"…am! Madam!"
She could not force strength into her eyelids. Cold sweat streamed down her temples. The gunshots receded farther and farther from her ears.
Heiner had said he had been wounded many times on operations. Among those wounds, three had been from bullets. Had it hurt him like this too? Because he had endured such agony so often, had her own pain seemed like nothing?
My pain is, my pain, my pain is… my…
The thought would not continue. Annette abandoned the effort to hold onto consciousness. The flickering before her eyes finally flooded black.
At the very edge of awareness a scene stamped itself into her mind: the face of the man who had shot her. Those eyes that had leveled the muzzle without hesitation. The emotion that had shone so clearly.
It was unmistakable hatred.