Summary: It's Christmas and three brothers visit their father for the holidays, with a couple of fiancées in tow. Already in residence are a secretary and a pair of crooks who are up to no good. The horrid old man ends up dead. Can Inspector Merlin solve the case? This murder mystery is based on a number of Agatha Christie novels.

A/N Hi everyone. Merry Christmas! This piece is intended to be a bit of light-hearted fun for the holidays. Please accept my present to the NNT fandom. As a newcomer, I've been really touched at how welcoming you've been, and this is by way of thanks.

This story is based on three Agatha Christie books. I'll say which ones at the end so as not to give away the solution. Please do let me know what you think of this - all feedback welcome.

Beta read by the amazing Lickitysplit, who is not only a wonderful author but also really insightful and great to work with. This story is so much better for her patient comments and suggestions. Any errors and bits that you dislike are obviously my own. She also created the cover art which is amazing. Check out more of her work here and on Tumblr ( maybeishouldwait).

Chapter 1: Home For The Holidays

The bare, frost covered branches flew by at a rush, whipping the car angrily as it shot along the narrow lanes of the Lancashire countryside. The brash, scarlet paint of the vehicle stood out dramatically from the muted greens and browns of the landscape as it snaked along the winding roads towards the huge manor house, the historic home of the aristocrats who presided over the village of Little Brambleton. Years ago, the house had been bought by a retired businessman, a recluse of unknown origin with a vile countenance and a temper to match. A few of the villagers had extended the usual welcome, but had been unceremoniously rebuffed. Now, no one tried. The horrible man was left alone by all and sundry to stew in his own massive property.

But the purchase had not been a complete bust for the village. The reviled gentleman had brought a secretary with him, a slight, soft spoken youngster who was single-handedly keeping the small village library in operation. He volunteered all his spare time to organising the shelves and had created a small children's section to try and attract more young families into the warm, book-filled interior. These efforts had been entirely successful, and the library, which had been on the point of closure, was now the centre of life for the dwindling number of children who still called the village home. The gratitude felt towards Gowther from the folk who lived there was sincere and bountiful.

The villagers were also completely enamoured of the Manor owner's three sons, who sadly only rarely visited their father. When they did come however, they were each careful to pay their respects to their neighbours, and without fail bought a round for everyone present in the Dog and Duck, the dilapidated pub which sat at the centre of the village. The place had seen better days; the roof leaked, the carpets were muted and sticky and the toilets were an absolute horror. It was however the only watering place for miles around and the quality ale and the cheerful bartender more than made up for its deficiencies.

When the boys came to visit they were each the veritable life and soul of the party. Almost every unattached woman, and some of the married ones too, flocked to the pub whenever any of the boys were to be found there. They were all ridiculously handsome, some might even say beautiful. Indeed, rumour of the engagement of the eldest and youngest brothers to eligible partners had caused significant distress among the female population, and a few of the men were dischuffed too. Still, the word on the grapevine was that both of the ladies in question would be visiting for the holidays, and the curious villagers were eager for a glimpse of them.

"Um... Meliodas... is this a bit...fast?" Elizabeth murmured, her face pale and clammy as she clung onto the seat for dear life. The bright red car continued apace, bolting along the road at a terrifying rate as the blonde driver pressed his foot mercilessly on the gas pedal.

"What? Oh, sorry Elizabeth," Meliodas said sheepishly as he slowed the car to somewhere nearer the speed limit. He glanced over at his fiancée, his head swimming with delight as he permitted himself to think of her this way. He had only proposed a few weeks ago and still could not believe she had said yes. She was so beautiful, he thought, as his eyes snapped forwards and he gazed wantonly at the reflection of the woman sitting beside him in the rear view mirror, which he had angled specifically for the purpose. Warm contentment trickled through him at the sight of her sparkling sapphire eyes, her porcelain cheeks and her bountiful chest, which was pushed out slightly as she played with the buttons on her blouse. He could not wait to show her off. His brothers would both be incredibly jealous.

"What's your father like? You never really talk about him," Elizabeth said softly, smiling sweetly at Meliodas as he appeared to concentrate on the road. She was rather nervous at the prospect of meeting his family and hoped to make a good first impression. Between that, and the way the car was still swerving dramatically, Elizabeth did not notice the way Meliodas' jaw clenched slightly and his striking green eyes narrowed to slits in response to her question.

"He won't like you but don't worry, okay? He doesn't like anyone much," Meliodas replied lightly, his hand drifting over from the gearbox to caress Elizabeth's thigh. "I love you and that's what matters."

"But... um... why wouldn't he like me?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes trailing down to regard Meliodas' hand as he traced circular patterns on her skin, the pleasant feeling failing to distract her from her thoughts. The idea of rejection from anyone, particularly someone she had not even met and the father of the man she loved so dearly, caused her much consternation. She was unfailingly polite, gentle and courteous, her manner deliberately cultivated to ensure she would get a favourable reaction.

"He's vile, you see, or at least I think he is," Meliodas said cheerfully as he continued his ministrations, smirking as he felt Elizabeth shift her body to accommodate his touch. He felt his own need for her growing as she leaned back in the seat and he let himself stare at her bountiful chest and the silver hair falling like silk all around her. He revved the car back into a higher gear as the vehicle's speed picked up, this time without protest from Elizabeth. He had moved his hand up her thigh when he replaced it after the gear change and, to his great satisfaction, her eyes stayed closed in ecstasy as his hand finally reached the centre of its destination.

Meliodas wished that he did not have to go to the Manor at all. He hated his father and was well aware that the feeling was mutual. Even his brothers, who he had loved fiercely and protectively for all of their childhoods, were now on difficult terms with him, no doubt as a result of his father's cruel lies. He missed his brothers, and hoped that this holiday visit would help put them all back on a friendlier footing. It was Christmas after all.

"How are you feeling?" Gelda asked softly as she looked over at Zeldris, his eyes set with a cold anger as he carefully watched the winding road. His face was stoic and unmoving, but Gelda could feel the rage simmering beneath. She wanted to reach out and run her fingers over his cheek, behind his ear and into the dark spikes of his hair but she knew that he would not thank her for this. The last thing her fiancé would want when driving was any distraction from his surroundings.

Zeldris glared at the single track lane, watching carefully for potholes or any sign of black ice. He steered his dark blue car carefully along the narrow, twisting lane, making sure not to scratch the pristine paintwork on the frozen branches which so inconsiderately stuck out into the road. Gelda's question, however, made him tense up in surprise. It was hard to adjust to the fact that someone was genuinely interested in his answer to that particular query. But he knew her now, enough to be sure that she was interested in him as a person and not just drawn to his budding celebrity.

"Annoyed." Zeldris sighed as he continued look straight ahead, resisting the urge to turn and drink in the face of the beautiful woman sitting next to him. She was so statuesque, sublime, perfect even and without thinking Zeldris gave in, permitting himself to take a quick sideways look at Gelda, a fierce pride rising in his chest as he saw her neat, golden braid, the regal point to her chin and the way she was examining him so lovingly, as if he were the only man in the world. His heart skipped a beat at the alluring sight. She was truly remarkable, and she was irrefutably his.

"I do not want to subject you to the unpleasantness which will inevitably accompany our visit. My father can be difficult and my brothers are pathetic, but they will show you the respect you deserve if they knows what's good for them." Zeldris clenched the steering wheel as he said this, his knuckles turning white with the pressure, trying not to think about what he would do if any of his family dared to upset his fiancée.

"Do we have to go to them then? I'd much rather spend Christmas with you, on our own," Gelda pleaded. She gazed longingly at Zeldris, her lips pressing together at the thought of sharing him. Their engagement so far had been bliss, which had come to an abrupt end with the invitation to the manor. Zeldris felt a shot of heat flood up his spine in response to her words, the thought of squirrelling Gelda away somewhere for the holidays causing his stomach to do little somersaults.

"Gowther was quite insistent. He practically begged me to come and he doesn't ask for that sort of cooperation without good reason."

In an attempt to examine the position from a rational perspective, Zeldris forced his emotions away, making himself try and understand what was going on. Why could Gowther possibly want him to visit so badly? He had pressed and cajoled, coming perilously close to begging Gowther to tell him what was so important, but the young man had merely deflected his questions with that flat tone of his, just repeating that it was in his best interest to come without delay.

"It's not too much further," Zeldris said comfortingly. "We will be rid of them soon."

Zeldris caught sight of a bright red car zipping along the twisted track in the distance and sighed to himself. Meliodas never did pay any heed to road safety, or any other type of safety for that matter. He was not sure who was worse, Meliodas and his unconscionable recklessness or Estarossa and his infuriating lassitude. He did know that he didn't want to spend time with either of the spongers. Ten to one they'd tap his father up for money the moment they saw him, and perhaps try him next when they were unsuccessful. No wonder the poor man was so cross all the time. The very idea of his brothers' crude begging was making his fingers twitch with irritation.

"Now, what's all this about?" Estarossa growled at Gowther as he slipped into the car. His father's secretary had driven to the station to save him the long walk up to the Manor. Gowther looked at him without smiling, pushing his glasses more firmly onto his nose as he stowed the book he was reading in the glove compartment.

"I will tell you later. Your brothers are on their way home and you should all hear the information together," Gowther intoned as he started the car. Estarossa rolled his eyes in frustration but knew better than to press the point. Gowther was nothing if not frustratingly stubborn.

"I saw that your latest work has been sold. Was it enough to get you out of difficulty?" Gowther enquired, his eyes on the road as they moved smoothly along the narrow country lanes. Estarossa clenched his teeth in response, wishing he could relieve his feelings by punching something hard, but resisting the urge with difficulty. It would be a drag to have to walk the rest of the way because either Gowther or the car could not continue the journey.

"No. Not even close. I was robbed," he snarled, staring hard at Gowther in an effort to intimidate him. The attempt did not have the desired effect. Gowther stared at the road, perfectly oblivious to the storm of emotions he had conjured in the man sitting next to him.

"The buyer would only pay half of what I asked, said I wasn't well known enough to command higher prices," Estarossa continued bitterly. "I asked father for help. You know what he said? He told me to give up my art, and go back to the City. He doesn't give a crap that I hated it, that it was killing me slowly."

"He has discussed the subject with me. He believes that sculpture has little value."

"Well, he's wrong. I'll make my money when I've built my reputation. Though that will be impossible if the bailiffs take all my materials away."

A few moments later, the car scrunched over gravel as Gowther pulled into the driveway, having to lurch quickly to the side so as to avoid the speeding red flash which shot up behind. Meliodas caught sight of Estarossa as he whizzed past and gave his brother a cheerful wave.

Estarossa sighed. One of his bosses had once said that people who smiled too much were either completely devoid of emotional intelligence, or lacked the basic understanding needed to know how much shit they were in; as usual, Meliodas was wearing that grin which made him look like an imbecile. The quote rose to the front of Estarossa's mind as he gazed at his brother, who was likely as desperate for cash as himself.

As Gowther parked the car in the garage, Estarossa heard the approach of another vehicle and was not surprised to see his younger brother pulling up in his dark blue BMW. Zeldris had done well for himself, Estarossa considered. His thoughts crystallised along these lines when he saw Zeldris open the passenger door and an absolute beauty rise to stand at his side. So this was the fiancée. Estarossa held his breath as he looked at her, his astonishment only growing when he saw Meliodas join them with yet another vision of loveliness on his arm. How had they both managed this sort of coup?

"What's all this about, Gowther?" Zeldris called as the young man stepped forward. Gelda stood still, her posture perfect and her head held high, determined to show her future relatives what good breeding looked like.

"Oh, did you ask him to come?" Meliodas queried as he looked over at Gowther. "That explains why you're here, Zeldris. You can't want money, after all." Meliodas grinned mischievously, noting his brother's scowl with amusement.

Before Meliodas could ask after the beauty he had arrived with, Zeldris snapped, "No, I do not, and nor should you. Father gives you an allowance does he not? That's more than he does for me. You would do well to get a proper job and stop leeching off him." Zeldris' dark eyes flashed with irritation as he looked Meliodas over. "You could stop buying such expensive clothes for a start, given you are allegedly so hard up."

Gowther unlocked the front door as they spoke and directed the group into the house as they continued to squabble. "Hey, I need to look like this, alright. How else d'you think I'm going to attract potential investors?" Meliodas protested as they reached the hall, his eyes still soft with good humour despite the barbed remarks. Elizabeth gasped as she took in the luxury of the Manor, wondering how much the marble floor tiles had cost.

"Fair enough. At least you do look presentable, unlike some I could mention." Zeldris smirked as he ran his eyes slowly up and down Estarossa who, in true bohemian fashion, was wearing garments which it would be fair to say had seen better days. A mustard coloured coat adorned his long frame, the only thing the charity shop he had been forced to rummage through to find winter apparel had stocked in his size.

Estarossa growled as he returned Zeldris' stare, pulling the offensive garment off and slamming it onto the antique coat rack, as the others also removed their winter garb. "Meliodas, we need to talk. Let's go! This is not something Mr Perfect needs to be in on."

"Come on, guys, we need to stop this," Meliodas said with a smile, Elizabeth's gentle hand on his shoulder enough to help him maintain his good humour. "You have a point, Zeldris. I'm not doing as well as you, but I hope to one day when my bar takes off. I've got planning permission now, so it won't be too much longer. And Estarossa, you're wearing some pretty weird stuff, but you look great as usual. And we're being rude, we haven't even done the introductions yet! Elizabeth this is..."

"I am sorry to interrupt but this is important. That can wait until later. Please follow me now," Gowther pressed as he looked steadily at the many eyes fixed on him, nodding when he saw from the various expressions that he would have his way. He led the five young people through the wood panelled entrance, up the leftmost of the twin staircases and along a cream carpeted corridor. After a few moments, Gowther stopped outside a door, unlocking it before ushering the group inside. Once in the secretary's office, the door was closed and quickly locked.

Startled at the turn of events, Elizabeth had gaped in awe as she travelled through the house. She knew her future father-in-law was fixed well for money but the extent of the grandeur had come as a surprise. Everything was expensive, from the oil paintings on the walls to the polished, Art Deco furniture which dotted the hallways. This office however was more familiar. The desk and bookshelves were of the cheap, flat-packed variety and the filing cabinet was flimsy and grey. The desk itself was neat and ordered, small piles of paper lined up with precision and organised into plastic trays.

"Your father has two guests with him at the moment and I do not want them to overhear us. I am concerned about them," Gowther said bluntly, his expression hidden behind the reflection of his large glasses. "I have reason to believe they are taking your inheritance."

"Shit! Why on earth didn't you say so sooner!" Estarossa yelled, glaring at Gowther as he clenched his fists. "Who the hell are they?"

"Their names are Derieri and Monspeet, or that is what they claim. They came to the Manor six days ago after their car broke down. Since then they have remained and your father has given them money on at least two occasions. A million pounds of it, I estimate."

"That's odd. Why's he done that?" Meliodas asked calmly, working to keep the surprise out of his tone. His father was not known for being free with his cash. Elizabeth caught his eye and he knew she too was thinking about The Boar Hat and the money they needed so badly to build it. That was why they had come to see his father, although Meliodas had to admit his hopes were not high.

"They are mining for diamonds in South Africa and have offered your father a share of their gains," Gowther explained, his eyes hidden behind the reflection of his glasses.

"Ah, I guess that makes sense. He would swallow that kind of guff given he made his dough selling the things," Estarossa snorted derisively.

"Wait. I agree this looks serious but are we absolutely sure these diamond mines are fraudulent? If this business venture is genuine it could be a perfectly sound investment," Zeldris argued. "What do you think, Gelda?"

Before Gelda could answer, Estarossa interrupted, "How can it be real, you idiot? This is the twenty-first century. What are the odds of there being random, unexploited diamond mines, and that the two people who own them just happen to show up here?" Zeldris snarled angrily and rounded on Estarossa, preparing to strike, until Gelda placed a warning hand on his shoulder. With some astonishment, Meliodas could see Zeldris visibly relaxed at her touch, although this youngest brother continued to glower at Estarossa, a promise of future payback for any further transgressions.

"I do not trust them," Gowther said carefully as he flicked a small piece of fluff from his sleeve. "But your father is excited and he appears to enjoy the visitors' company."

"So, what d'you think we should do?" Meliodas asked, his eyes solemn for once as he questioned Gowther. "You know him better than us. How do we bring him round?"

"If you believe your father is being misled then surely you should report it to the police," Gelda said serenely, Zeldris nodding earnestly in agreement. "That would seem to be the most logical approach to me," she added with finality.

"No, I've got a better plan," Meliodas declared, moving his arm more securely around Elizabeth, who was feeling rather nervous judging from the way she was playing with her earing. She was trembling slightly, but she calmed as he held her close to him, much to his satisfaction. "I don't think the police will take any notice of us at the moment. Our father's not liked round here. We'll need some proof first, then they'll have to do something."

"I can see your argument," Zeldris said, and Meliodas and Estarossa shared a quick look of incredulity at this unexpected tone. Since when had Zeldris listened to reason? "I am comfortable conducting some initial investigations of our own. Gowther, where are the two people in question likely to be at this hour?"

"In your father's rooms. They spend a lot of time there," Gowther replied, moving towards his desk and flicking through some paperwork. "I suggest you take this to him. He is expecting it and it needs his signature."

"You go on Zeldris. You're the favourite," Estarossa said, smirking in response to his brother's cold stare.

"I will be happy to oblige and I do not need any pretext to go and see my own father. He asked me to come to him," Zeldris said, shooting his brother a look of triumph. "He would like to meet you, Gelda."

Quick as a flash, Zeldris unlocked the door and held it open, gently laying his hand on the small of Gelda's back as she gracefully moved forward and they drifted out of sight.

"So, are you going to introduce us?" The apparently innocent question was directed at Meliodas but Estarossa's eyes were fixed on Elizabeth and her full pink lips. The detailed scrutiny did not go unnoticed, and Meliodas moved closer towards this fiancée, pressing her even more tightly against his side.

"Elizabeth, this is my brother Estarossa. And this is Gowther. He's my father's secretary but he's a real part of the family. We grew up together, and... we're good friends."

A sigh of relief escaped from Meliodas. He had nearly said that he and Gowther were like brothers themselves. Gowther had been taken in by his father when he was just eighteen years old, and he had no family he could call his own. Given their closeness in age and mutual dislike of the man who ruled their lives, he and Meliodas had quickly bonded and their strong friendship was not a secret. But nonetheless the unspoken sentence would have caused Estarossa to sulk; he had always been jealous.

"I... I'm pleased to meet you, I've heard so much about you both," Elizabeth stuttered slightly, letting her shy smile light up the room. Gowther bowed and Estarossa made himself shake Elizabeth's hand. That was not his instinctive reaction but one look at Meliodas' stormy expression was enough of a warning to make him play it safe.

"So how'd you two meet?" Estarossa enquired as he ran his fingers through his silver hair, further disturbing the already messy mop. Whatever part of the world Meliodas had found this girl in was one he should try to visit more often.

"I... um... it was an interview actually. Meliodas was looking for waitresses. I've just finished my degree in interior design and needed some work. I was a bit nervous, but I thought I could try it."

Recalling the so-called interview at the mid-market chain restaurant Meliodas managed, Elizabeth could not prevent herself from blushing slightly. The lengthy chat had not covered much about her professional experience, which was as well as she had very little. She was in fact a terrible waitress, having been quickly let go when she had tried similar work in the past. But Meliodas was a great manager, and with his help she had improved her technique. They had grown ever closer until it finally got to the point when Meliodas had to fire her to prevent them both falling foul of the rule that employees could not date other staff.

"Come on, I'll show you around. Give me that, Gowther," Meliodas commanded as he held his hand out for the paper Zeldris had rejected. "I'll go see him later."

"Not without me you won't. We both need the same thing, and if he's going to say yes he'll only say it once," Estarossa warned.

"Fine. Tag along," Meliodas said brightly, as he ushered the pair out of the door, inwardly annoyed at his brother's persistence. Their father was bound to refuse his request if Estarossa's pleas were involved. He would just have to sneak his ask in first.

"They are insufferable!" Zeldris fumed as he stormed through the corridors towards his father's rooms. Not even the feel of Gelda's cool, smooth hand in his could keep his rapidly building temper in check. The feel of her fingers weaving into his hair however made him stop short, and he closed his eyes to concentrate on the sensation. When her soft lips met his own, the last of the bubbling anger dissipated and he returned her kiss in earnest, running his hand over her shoulder to ground himself in reality.

"What was that for?" Zeldris asked softly as they broke apart and he looked closely at Gelda's peaceful expression.

"I've been wanting to do that for hours," Gelda said softly as she held his hand tightly, a flash of triumph firing through her as she saw Zeldris visibly calm as a result of her actions. He was so fierce and proud, and she still felt elated that he allowed her this degree of control over his emotions. Zeldris returned the pressure, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her skin as they set off once more, travelling at a more leisurely pace as they leaned into each other. After a few moments, they arrived at their destination and Zeldris rapped on the door sharply, pulling Gelda inside with him in response to the summons.

The interior of the room was surprisingly dark. The windows were shrouded in thick blackout curtains and the room was illuminated poorly by a few standing lamps positioned around the large, dingy space. Heart thumping in trepidation, Gelda swept her eyes over the room, and was immediately struck by the figure of a woman sprawled lewdly over a chaise longue, her legs sticking out wantonly, drawing attention to her lithe, toned physique. A tall man stood behind her, his pencil moustache quivering slightly as he returned Gelda's stare, his haughty face showing what little he thought of her.

It was some time before Gelda could tear her eyes away from the pair to examine the wizened old man sitting on a massive ornate chair in the very centre of the room. When she did, a chill ran up her spine. His unkempt beard and lank, greasy black hair framed his cruel face, which seemed to be melting with age. The sight made a shiver travel up the very top of her spine and she could feel every hair on her arms stand to attention. He looked absolutely repulsive.

"Thank you for inviting us to come and see you," Zeldris murmured politely as he stepped into the room, feeling a stab of concern as he saw his father's eyes fixed not on him but squarely on his fiancée, who was standing slightly behind. There was no reason in the world the old man should think ill of Gelda, but he was somewhat unpredictable. It was with relief therefore that Zeldris watched his father's face soften imperceptibly with a barely-there smile as he beckoned Gelda to join him.

Darting a quick look at Zeldris and seeing approbation in his face, Gelda made herself move forward, her legs heavy and unwilling, until she stood in front of the vile man. The polite mask her training had helped her to master was proving useful now. It was evident from the way the old man took her hand in his, running his dry cracked lips over her soft skin that this unspeakable monster had no idea of her true feelings.

"It is a pleasure to meet you in person, Lady Gelda. After Zeldris informed me of your engagement I took care to find you in the society pages." Eyes that were pale and watery and yet unmistakably lascivious swept slowly over her form and Gelda clenched her teeth hard to prevent her revulsion from showing too plainly, though she chided herself sharply for failing to control her physical response. It had been slight, but the man must surely have noticed her tremble of disgust.

"Zeldris, would you please show my visitors out? I have some business to discuss with the newest member of our family. Derieri, Monspeet, please excuse me. I will see you at dinner."

"Of course, sir." Zeldris instantly obeyed, gesturing impatiently for the alleged con artists to join him and Gelda froze as she realised he was about to leave her. The lewd woman rose unwillingly, casting a look of derision at Zeldris as she let him usher her out of the room, the tall gentleman following close on her heels. With a quick look of encouragement, a slight smile on his lips, Zeldris also departed and Gelda was dismayed that he had missed her silent pleas for help. How could he have done? They had sounded loud and desperate enough in her head.

"I have a proposition for you," the old man cooed as he took a black velvet pouch from his pocket. With shaking fingers, thin skinned and blotched, he clumsily loosened the clasp and shook dozens of bright, shining stones out into his palm. They were large and iridescent, a kaleidoscope of jewels which burned like fire even in the meagre light of their surroundings. Despite her trepidation, Gelda felt herself stepping forwards, unwittingly running her fingers through the sharp fragments.

"These can be yours, on one condition. I am sure I do not need to make the terms clear. My youngest son always did have exquisite taste," the old man moaned as he enclosed Gelda's hand between his own, resting his fingers against her rigid arm. The shock of her position hit Gelda with force and she tried to pull herself away, only to find her arm locked in place. Eyes wide and horrified stared at the spot where she and the disgusting septuagenarian were joined and Gelda became truly aware of the danger she was facing. He appeared weak and frail, but the strength in his fingers showed that this man could overpower her physically.

In response to her obvious unwillingness, the monster held Gelda's hand more tightly, pulling her down so he could speak directly into her ear. "Do not dare to cross me. If you want my son to receive his inheritance you will do what I say. I will cut him out if you disobey me, and then where do you think your future marriage will be? All of my sons like money. Zeldris will not thank you if you get in his way."

At this, Gelda decided she had to act, and yanked her arm sharply. Surprised at the suddenness of her movement, the old man was forced to let go and Gelda's hand pulled mercifully free, gems scattering all over the floor as she stumbled back. Without a word, Gelda turned and fled the room, swaying slightly as her high heels caught in the carpet. A cruel, cackling laughter followed her as she ran for her life.