Read Online The Three Thorns by Michael Gibney - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michael Gibney
Ads: Link
first thing tomorrow morning.” Mr. Jennings let out an impatient sigh, while he rudely continued to write. In one speedy move, the Inspector lifted the calligraphy pen out of the principal’s scarred fingers. It took Mr. Jennings a few seconds to take in the sudden odd behavior of the Inspector before he felt a little unnerved.
“Much sooner than that, Mr. Jennings,” the Inspector replied.
“How soon?” Mr. Jennings asked in a faint whisper, followed by a gulp.
“Now,” the Inspector whispered eerily, slowly handing the pen back to him, revealing a silver glint in his eyes and an eager smile that was filled with bad intent.
10
Sebastian Cain
The show was about to begin. The prop boy could tell from the thundering roar of the orchestra that the first set of curtains had been opened. He couldn’t see much ahead of the opera house floor. The heavy lights that stretched across the circular ceiling above the audience began to dim, setting the right atmosphere for the play to commence. Coughs and conversations from the audience died down and their attention turned toward the stage, addressed by the prop boy’s charming and charismatic father.
“Greetings Ladies and Gentlemen,” the sharp-suited aristocrat bellowed, dramatically pacing up and down the stage platform. “What you are about to witness is the wonder and excitement of our fiftieth theatrical presentation. I assure that none of you will be disappointed, but rather enlightened, entranced, and above all else, inspired by this very unique portrayal of one civilization’s quest for absolute survival. Let me remind you that nowhere else in London, or England, or even the whole world and beyond will you find a play that entertains as much as this one does,” he rambled, building up the audience’s expectation. Viktor Cain was a great showman who knew his trade well.
“So without further ado, it is my great pleasure to announce to you, the Royal Opera House’s newest attraction, The Reigning Masks .”
Elsewhere, backstage, another worker the same age as the prop boy turned to him behind the curtain.
“Wasn’t that your idea, Sebastian?” he asked, cupping one hand in a loud whisper across the stage.
The prop boy looked embarrassed and bobbed his head.
“That’s another one ol’ Viktor’s stolen from ya. When are ya gonna learn, eh?” With a mop in hand, the worker continued his leftover duties, leaving Sebastian his words to ponder over.
The stage lights faded until the entire auditorium was pitch black. Squeaking noises from the apparatus that lifted the main dark velvet drapes caused many audience members to shudder at the uncomfortable sound. Viktor swiftly marched to the backside of the stage and pushed his son out of the way to roll back the heavy wheel himself. Music erupted from the orchestra in sync with the moving curtains until the stage set came into view. Sebastian was on the floor nursing a cut on his dusty knee when Viktor’s large hands grabbed hold of him.
“Can’t you do anything right, you little pest?” he rasped. Viktor’s face was grubby and rugged, sprouting a pier styled moustache that accompanied his cropped black hair.
As the play continued through its first act, Viktor and his son Sebastian walked past several prop assistants and workers along the backstage hallway. The man pushed staff members to the wall and slapped a few on the head with his hat for blocking the way.
Charging through one of the dressing rooms, the large man threw the skinny boy into a couple of barrels that were rusting in the dampness of the corner. “I’ve told you time and time again, boy, to oil that blasted curtain lever,” Viktor yelled, loosening a horsewhip prop from his side belt.
Raising the horsewhip high above his shoulder, the despicable man was about to strike his son across his back when an old coarse voice ordered him to stop.
“You do realize we have the company of the Mayor after the show,
“Much sooner than that, Mr. Jennings,” the Inspector replied.
“How soon?” Mr. Jennings asked in a faint whisper, followed by a gulp.
“Now,” the Inspector whispered eerily, slowly handing the pen back to him, revealing a silver glint in his eyes and an eager smile that was filled with bad intent.
10
Sebastian Cain
The show was about to begin. The prop boy could tell from the thundering roar of the orchestra that the first set of curtains had been opened. He couldn’t see much ahead of the opera house floor. The heavy lights that stretched across the circular ceiling above the audience began to dim, setting the right atmosphere for the play to commence. Coughs and conversations from the audience died down and their attention turned toward the stage, addressed by the prop boy’s charming and charismatic father.
“Greetings Ladies and Gentlemen,” the sharp-suited aristocrat bellowed, dramatically pacing up and down the stage platform. “What you are about to witness is the wonder and excitement of our fiftieth theatrical presentation. I assure that none of you will be disappointed, but rather enlightened, entranced, and above all else, inspired by this very unique portrayal of one civilization’s quest for absolute survival. Let me remind you that nowhere else in London, or England, or even the whole world and beyond will you find a play that entertains as much as this one does,” he rambled, building up the audience’s expectation. Viktor Cain was a great showman who knew his trade well.
“So without further ado, it is my great pleasure to announce to you, the Royal Opera House’s newest attraction, The Reigning Masks .”
Elsewhere, backstage, another worker the same age as the prop boy turned to him behind the curtain.
“Wasn’t that your idea, Sebastian?” he asked, cupping one hand in a loud whisper across the stage.
The prop boy looked embarrassed and bobbed his head.
“That’s another one ol’ Viktor’s stolen from ya. When are ya gonna learn, eh?” With a mop in hand, the worker continued his leftover duties, leaving Sebastian his words to ponder over.
The stage lights faded until the entire auditorium was pitch black. Squeaking noises from the apparatus that lifted the main dark velvet drapes caused many audience members to shudder at the uncomfortable sound. Viktor swiftly marched to the backside of the stage and pushed his son out of the way to roll back the heavy wheel himself. Music erupted from the orchestra in sync with the moving curtains until the stage set came into view. Sebastian was on the floor nursing a cut on his dusty knee when Viktor’s large hands grabbed hold of him.
“Can’t you do anything right, you little pest?” he rasped. Viktor’s face was grubby and rugged, sprouting a pier styled moustache that accompanied his cropped black hair.
As the play continued through its first act, Viktor and his son Sebastian walked past several prop assistants and workers along the backstage hallway. The man pushed staff members to the wall and slapped a few on the head with his hat for blocking the way.
Charging through one of the dressing rooms, the large man threw the skinny boy into a couple of barrels that were rusting in the dampness of the corner. “I’ve told you time and time again, boy, to oil that blasted curtain lever,” Viktor yelled, loosening a horsewhip prop from his side belt.
Raising the horsewhip high above his shoulder, the despicable man was about to strike his son across his back when an old coarse voice ordered him to stop.
“You do realize we have the company of the Mayor after the show,
Similar Books
