Strange things are afoot in Edinburgh, as the mystery and intrigue deepens. Nicole’s troubles take a surreal turn for the worse in Chapter Two of The Firm’s Fiction Prize competition. “The Key” continues in the latest instalment from Andrew Marshall of Davidson Chalmers.



Jacobson saw the blow coming but made no move to block it. Misshapen knuckles cracked into his jaw and the metallic tang of blood filled his mouth. He didn’t react.

‘You idiot!’ Williams screamed at him. ‘Do you have any idea what you’ve done? All this could very well be for nothing.’

Jacobson glanced around the chamber. It appeared considerably less ominous now it was lit by bright halogen lamps rather than flickering sacrificial flames, but the ritualistic symbols etched all over the cavern and the large bloodstain still slowly seeping into the stone altar echoed the dark deeds performed so recently within its walls.

‘We did not fail completely,’ Jacobson said, masking with practised ease his abject contempt for the man who was his superior only in rank. ‘We killed one of them as he attempted to escape. The contents of his wallet identified him as Bryan Fitchie. We believe he was no one of any importance. We also recovered the key.’

‘Ah, yes. I’ve been informed that key was a fake.’

Oh, crap.

‘Need I remind you,’ Williams snarled, ‘the box cannot be opened except with the genuine key it was locked with?’

‘No, sir,’ Jacobson replied through gritted teeth.

‘What about the freak in the cloak?’

‘He escaped.’

‘Well, what now? We can’t threaten his family since the girl Clarinda was all he had. Suggestions?’

‘Actually sir, I have him under surveillance. Observing his movements will tell us what he plans.’

‘Be sure that they do.’ Williams strode indignantly from sight.
Jacobson flicked his tongue and dislodged the tooth Williams’s strike had loosened. He spat it contemptuously onto the stone floor.
Soon. Very soon.

Nicole swiftly shook the drowsiness from her mind and darted through to the bathroom. A torrent of steaming water was pouring from the ceiling, fortuitously landing in her bathtub. Her good fortune ended there, however, as several chunks of the ceiling then fell in, closely followed by a black-clad stocky shape.

It landed gracefully, balancing precariously on the side of the bath. A face like the back end of a bulldog pulled through its front glared at Nicole with an animalistic intensity. The hideous visage was tilted into the air and then followed by a loud sniff.

‘You have the Master’s scent upon you,’ he said with a sibilant hiss. ‘Hand over the relic or be destroyed.’

Nicole’s mouth silently opened and closed several times in a mix of confusion and fear. The man’s fingernails were long and cruelly curved like a bird of prey’s talons. Dried blood stained their pointed tips. Fear won out; Nicole spun and ran.

She made it into her bedroom and slammed the door shut just as a powerful force crashed into its other side. Panicking, she reached under her bed and pulled out the baseball bat she kept there for precisely these kinds of situations. Well, not precisely this, but they shared a common theory.

Just as she was sure the door was about to be broken off its hinges, the sound of a scuffle came from the hallway. After several moments, she heard the heavy thump of a dead weight hitting the ground.

‘Nicole!’ a voice called out. ‘Nicole, are you here?’

Nicole glanced around the door and saw a tall and lithely built man swathed in a black cloak standing in the hallway, the door to her flat wide open behind him. The ugly man lay unmoving and bleeding at his feet.

Nicole stepped from the bedroom, brandishing the baseball bat as menacingly as she could. ‘Who the hell are you?’ she growled.

‘There’s no time. I’m Alex. We have to get away from here right now.’

‘What? I’m not going anywhere. If you know something about what just happened then tell me.’

‘There’s no time,’ he repeated. ‘I thought I’d lost them at the lighthouse, but I was wrong. If it’ll help reassure you, know that I’m here partly on account of your brother.’

‘My brother?’ Nicole repeated.

‘Yes. Bryan is in danger. What I know of you from the brief time he and I spent together convinced me you may be able to help.’

‘Help with what? What are you talking about?

‘No questions. We need to leave before more of them arrive.’ He reached down to the still form on the floor and pulled a gold medallion from its neck. ‘They’ll sense the death of one of their own and react accordingly.’

‘Dea… He’s dead?’

‘Don’t let it concern you. He would’ve done the same to you. Just as those who will follow will do should they catch you. Now, get dressed.’ He strode into the living room, the discussion apparently ended.

Nicole went back to her bedroom, silently fuming at his presumption. She still complied with it, feeling a little exposed wearing only her bathrobe. Her mind raced as she swiftly pulled on some clothes. Why had she been attacked? What did this guy want? Could she trust him?

When she emerged, Alex was standing in the living room, holding the mysterious key. She must have dropped it on the coffee table when she’d run to the bathroom. He seemed to be studying its shape as he ran a thumbnail along its length.

‘What do you know of this?’ he asked as he moved to usher her out of the door.

‘Nothing. Someone just left it here. Why?’

‘Not now. Later.’

‘What about the dead body? Shouldn’t we call the police?’

‘Nicole, you can worry about the repercussions of all this if you’re still alive when it’s over. Now come on.’

‘Fine. But you stay in front of me where I can see you. Don’t try anything.’

‘As you wish.’ He strode from the flat, not looking to see if she was following.

Still unsure if she was doing the right thing, Nicole took one last look around her home and then closed the door on it. Outside, a jagged spear of lightning split the sky. The storm was getting closer.