Saffron’s Menagerie. Phil Stevenson
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an envelope in the mail to your prescribed address within ten days. The contents of the letter will include a sixteen-digit key to enter the forum. Your access will be limited to a specific time slice and date. Please note that. Do not enquire again until you receive your information pack. If so, our business will be terminated immediately. Your letter will have the SAC logo in the top left corner of the envelope. Chat soon. Goodbye’.
2.
She decides that the sun is well over the yardarm. Time for a gin and tonic.
‘So what to do with my live menagerie? If I stop after this one, I suppose I’ll let them grow old and die from natural causes’, she muses to herself walking down the steps into her basement, drink in hand. She reaches for the atomizer on a side table and sprays a fine mist over her face, hands and arms.
Pressing the secret button opens the sliding bookcase and she walks into her panic room. Caviar is upstairs. He’s never allowed into the panic room. And a panic room it has been to a few, but not for Saffron.
Immediately sounds of light thumping and anxious scurrying emanate. The room is small, ventilated and dry, fans buzz away. Smaller than you would think a panic room should be. Twelve feet by eight feet. There is a large empty fish tank about eight feet long on her right and another medium tank at the end of the room. Both tanks ooze excitement. She walks to the large tank. It has a soft sand base with a few hollowed small logs, water bowl and other extras that abound.
“Hello beautiful. How are you doing,” she speaks to Apples, her magnificent Eastern Brown reptile. She watches it strain to the top of the tank wanting to get out. Saffron opens a small hatch on top of the tank and the reptile slides out and up her arm. It’s glistening scales accentuating its ancient sliding rhythm. It stops under her neck with rhythmic flicks of its tongue over her soft skin. Snakes are not that good with their eyes, but they have amazing Jurassic sensory receptors on their tongues that tell them basically three things. Danger, Food and Mother. Saffron is Mother to Apples and Apples loves her mother dearly.
Apples did the dirty work on Warren Clapper. The Toxicology Department at South Hampton Hospital sent samples of the poison to various institutes. Two came back with identical results.
It turned out to be an Australian Eastern Brown snake that is not found anywhere in the USA.
The report went on to say that 1/14,000 of an ounce of its venom is enough to kill an adult human. The Eastern Brown snake is fast moving; can be aggressive under certain circumstances and has been known to chase aggressors and repeatedly strike at them. Even juveniles can kill a human.
“I love you too,” she purrs at Apples as they look into each other’s eyes. Then Apples buries his head back into Saffron’s neck.
“OK. OK, that’s enough. I need to check out your fun-loving neighbors, so back you go and I’ll see you later.”
Saffron points Apples back though the opening in the top of the tank and fastens it down.
“How are my other babies?” she asks approaching the smaller tank.
There is a hive of activity, as about half a dozen insects clamber on top of each other to reach the top hatch.
“Relax you guys.”
Saffron opens the hatch and six beautiful red orange scorpions skip up her arm so daintily, even with a swagger of delight. She holds them high and says, “Love all of you.”
One scorpion had about four babies clutched to its back.
“Ok, that’s it,” she says as she places them back into their tank. “I’ll give you yummy food to eat a bit later.”
3.
Stranger: Hello.
You: And to you too.
Stranger: Is that SAC?
You: Yep, I expected you. What do you want?
Stranger: A professional untraceable job.
You: How do you know about SAC?
Stranger: Someone passed your contact to me.
You: You need to be explicit! Now tell me.
Stranger: He knew I would have to identify him. It is Reg Charles.
You: OK then, you’re cool
Stranger: lol. I have heard from Reg that you are expensive.
You: So? Cut to the chase.
Stranger: I want my husband dead.
You: Is that so? Why?
Stranger: Because he screws around.
You: And you want to end him for that?
Stranger: It is a long story. If only I could talk to you in person.
You: Why?
Stranger: As a woman, I really don’t know any other way. I hate this forum stuff. It’s new to me.
You: This is a different forum. Only you and me.
Stranger: Let me think.
Stranger: He murdered my father. To get my inheritance and live the fucking life of Riley, without me.
You: Oh, I see. How do I know he killed your father?
Stranger: That’s why I want to meet.
You: Can’t you tell me now?
Stranger: I have one million dollars.
You: So?
Stranger: It’s yours if you kill him and leave no trace to me.
Saffron, thought hard on this one. Reginald’s name secured the proof.
You: Why do you not want to tell me?
Stranger: I can’t. I do not want to put it in words. It would haunt me forever.
You: OK. I will send you another code within ten days. We’ll talk again, so you can think about it.
Stranger: Thank you, thank you.
You: Do you live at this Chelton House?
Stranger: No.
You: I’ve checked it out. It’s an historic building that caters for tourists daily.
Stranger: True. I’m the person who takes the coins at the door. I also receive the mail. I’m here Mon – Fri.
You: Our time slot is up and I’m terminating it now. Look for my envelope in the post.
Saffron terminates the session.
CHAPTER TWO
Snake's poison is life to the snake; it is in relation to man that it means death. Rumi