Prologue
Mr. Robert Calan sat down at the desk in his home office with a satisfied air. Today was Friday, and the next week his holidays were to start. His two sons had been on holiday from school for the past two weeks, and he was looking forward to the annual family vacation in France. Predictably, the phone rang.
"Hello?”
The reply was given in a polite, clipped tone. Presumably upper- or middle- class, and certainly well educated. Calan grinned; for once it sounded as though he would be dealing with someone who knew what he was doing.
“Hello, may I speak to Mr. Calan?”
“Speaking,” Calan said with some amount of pride in his voice. They continued the conversation and were halfway through the stranger explaining who he was and why he wanted to talk to Calan when he stopped suddenly.
“Are those footsteps someone on your end?” he said anxiously.
“No,” Calan said, puzzled. “Must be someone on yours”“ But the stranger (he had never properly identified himself) interrupted him again.
“I knew they would come...only a matter of time...yes, only a matter of time...”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Calan said, now considerably annoyed. “Sir,” he added to be safe. It never helped to annoy customers. However, the person on the other end kept muttering. Then Calan heard the sound of a door being roughly thrown open. Someone, presumably the man he was speaking to, fell against the phone and hit ‘speakerphone’; at least, Calan could now hear everything much more clearly.
“Mussi is impatient...very impatient, Brown.” A raspy voice came out of nowhere.
“Well”well”tell Mussi I”“
“Mussi doesn’t want to be told anything, Brown...except that you’re out of the picture. Completely.”
The truth hit Calan like a sledgehammer. Brown, whoever he was, was about to be killed by someone or other. Before he could do anything, could even force his numbed mind to think, there was the sound of a gun being cocked, and then”
After the blast all was eerily silent. Calan felt frozen to the floor. Then there was the sound of running footsteps, and then a woman’s voice.
“Barry?” Then again, higher and more frightened. “Barry?” The footsteps ran on, down stairs, and then stopped abruptly.
Her scream of revulsion and utter, unhinging terror pierced Calan’s ears.
“Nice touch, that,” Sirius smirked, opening the basement door farther, “falling down the stairs after you ‘died’. Particularly as it wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Shut...up,” Tonks growled, attempting to get to her feet. “It’s not my fault I tripped.”
“Really...” She could tell he wasn’t buying it. “No offense, but you’re about as graceful as a hippopotamus tap-dancing in quicksand with combat boots.”
“I thought it added drama,” Remus said. “Not that anyone cares what I think.”
“She didn’t need to add any drama,” James said, “she’s already a world-class drama queen.”
“Ha ha. Very funny,” Tonks said, finally making it back up the stairs. “I haven’t noticed you missing out on a chance to show off.”
“Hey, I let Moony get the part, didn’t I?” said James, trying to sound injured.
“I told you I didn’t want it,” Remus insisted, “you probably could have done it better anyway.”
“Yeah, but is anyone going to believe I’m a grown-up?”
“Okay. One point to you."
...maybe I should explain what’s going on here. But to do that, I’m going to have to start at the very beginning...a very good place to start.