Chapter 161 Chapter 161 Target

Stifling his boiling anger, he lifted his head slightly, and whispered a single word coldly;

"Evidence?"

Leonard shook his head;

"Unfortunately, the evidence at best is tangential. But the cold facts are clear-"

He jerked his fat hairy arm forward, thrusting it in the direction of Paul;

"–his organ was sliced off my Lord. This has the markings of a woman's order written all over it. No man will kill another man, and then have his manhood removed in such a vile manner. . ."

He declared confidently; "It is a message of hatred my Lord. And at the moment, we can both agree that there's only one enemy that has the motive, resources, and wittiness to do it. . .it's abundantly clear she went out her way to get an assassin out of town. . .just so it doesn't get traced back to her. . ."

But Leonard did not need to convince him.

Fitch already knew. Forcing his gaze away from the disheartening sight, he lifted his gaze, and fixed in on the towering wall opposite him.

Nine feet up, perched up on the stony walls, and lined up horizontal formation were the heads of stags, bears, and wild boars- prizes of his previous hunting expeditions. That was where he wanted Madeline. He wanted her head up there- to be seen every single time.

As the grandfather clock ticked in the background, the shadows in the room began to gradually lengthen with the passage of time. Fitch's white bearded face tautened in deep thought.

A streak of light flickered in his black eyes. Under the swarm of black robes, his tense black body began to atrophy. The resentment started to ebb- leaving in its wake, the cold bitter aftertaste of regret.

Gritting his teeth, he cursed;

"That whore. . ." he cursed bitterly; '. . .that conniving, murderous wrench. . .I really underestimated her didn't I?"

Leonard knew better than to answer.

On his feet, Fitch's majestic black-clad form swayed lightly. He lifted up his black-gloved palm to his face, and pressed it firmly against his forhead- trying to keep the rampaging headache at bay;

"I guess all of this is my fault. . .I relaxed too much after she came to my home and clearly showed me just how much she had it in for me. . .If I had been a tiny bit more proactive, I might have stopped this. . ."

His chief of staff growled a quiet condolence;

"My Lord, you did nothing wrong here. There's no way anyone could have known. . ."

"Ah," he removed his gloved hand from his face; "But I am not anyone else. I should have known that a desperate woman fights bloody. . .I expected some kind of retaliative action from her. . .but. . ."

He glanced down at the mutilated body of his son and fought back a growl;

"I just didn't think she would move so quickly. . .who would have thought she would have him castrated. . .do you think he suffered?"

Behind him, Leonard's hardened gaze softened a little;

"Best not to dwell on things like that my Lord."

"You're right. . ." Fitch sighed a long dreary painful sigh; "Where are we on the surveillance of their home? The bitch and her daughter are still locked up safely aren't they?"

"Our spies have reported that they haven't left the castle in days. . ."

The old man chuckled;

"Of course she hasn't. . ."

Lines of worry creased into folds on his forehead. Clutching his stick, he slowly backed up- shuffling his boots on the granite floor as he sank into the cushioned arm chair behind him. Leaning back, his backbone cracked softly, and his cloak rustled quietly with each movement.

His voice- quiet and firm, came out with a self reprimanding tone;

"That was our first mistake."

Leonard's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. He echoed; "My Lord?"

"We assumed she was trying to build a strategic defense simply because she stayed put. She probably knew we had eyes on her, and therefore, made it seem like she was trying to protect Nora at all costs. . .'

Something between a scowl and a grunt escaped his throat- low and rumbling;

"And like a bunch of idiots, we bought it!"

Leonard stepped in;

"My Lord, if I may–"

"You'd better have something good to say."

The other man paced himself; "It is my belief that everything Lady Russell has done up till this point has been a product of a well thought out plan. It seems to me like she has been stewing on this for many years. . ."

His words echoed in the void, bouncing off the walls, and rebounding back in reveberations. Fitch's leaned further backwards- soaking in his man's assessment;

"So, the worst possible thing we can do in this case is to indulge her, we need to clear the board completely."

He glanced at the corpses, and grimaced at the sight of Paul's chopped off stump;

"Just as she did, we need to go out of town, and replace the biggest, baddest motherfu**ers, and bring them in, and have them wipe out every single member of that family completely."

Like dawn upon a land, silence descended upon the corpse-filled room.

As Leonard gripped the hilt of his sword, his puffy-red, weathered face kept twisting tighter and tighter into a mask of calculated aggression, waiting patiently for the old man's reply.

In truth, the chief of staff had been itching for a real fight. Standing there, in his mind's eye, he could already picture going in himself to that castle- taking out his broadsword, heaving it over it head, bringing it down viciously, and savoring the feel of hacking into raw flesh–

"No," the old man finally spoke up.

The crazed-delirious look on Leonard's face instantly melted away. Eyes darting in confusion, he muttered;

"My lord?"

"I want Lady Russell," his voice deepened as he dropped the last part; "But she's not the one who brought in the killer that hacked down my son."

Leonard nodded understandingly; "She had help?"

"Yes."

"But who my lord?"

Fitch's gaze went back to the naked bloated corpse on the table, and his eyes burned black with anger once more as he uttered a single name;

"Selina."

Beneath the thick tufts of white beard, the edges of Fitch's mouth curved in disgust as he spit the name out. In bouts of grunts, and scowls, he explained further to his man;

"Madeline hasn't left the castle since she came here, so how was she able to get something arranged within such a short time?"

It was a rhetorical question.

"Since the decline of the Russell family, there are few people Madeline would consider friends after a period this long. And there are even fewer people who are be loyal enough to set something up like this."

He croaked the name again;

"Selina. . .only that white haired witch has the resources, and loyalty to be able to get an out of town swordsman to do this. In fact, I bet she's the one who suggested it!"

In slow heavy steps, Leonard walked up from behind the old man's chair- coming up to his sides. Fitch continued to vent;

"All the spies we've sent after the Russell family, have they turned up with any significant bit of information?"

"No my lord."

He snapped his fingers; "There. . .nothing! Not a single pointer that showed that they've been anything but ordinary citizens! And now, suddenly out of the blue, a skilled killer steps in for them, and kills my son? This has the markings of Selina written all over it!"

Through his flaring nostrils, Fitch's breaths began to come out in dangerous forceful puffs. His anger had shifted from cold icy resentment, to full blown out vengeful lust.

"We've been too focused on Madeline. I can't believe I didn't think to look into that pharmacy witch. . .everyone knows how close they were back in the day. It's not too far fetched to think that she would be on their side. . ."

His white eyebrows clamped together;

". . .especially if Madeline promised her a rich chunk of land in return. . ."

Next to him, Leonard straightened his posture and asked;

"It sound's like we need to pay this woman a visit lord Fitch."

"No," he narrowed his eyes, playing it out in his head; "She's smart enough to know her cover will be blown sooner or later. She's probably prepared against any repercussions that may come her way."

The chief of staff's shoulders slumped. That was not what he wanted to hear.

"Selina's at the very center of Madeline's strategy," Fitch continued as he stroked his white beard; "To isolate the Russells, we need to take her out immediately. But damn, she's a slippery snake. So we only get one shot at this."

Leonard shifted on his feet, and asked unsurely;

"So. . .do we kill her, or. . ."

Fitch slowly turned his head towards the chief of staff standing by his side, and shot him a reproachful look;

"Are you a cop Leonard?"

The man's face whitened; "Sir?"

"You heard me," he muttered coldly; "I asked, are you a cop?"

"No my lord!" he protested vehemently; "I only asked if you wanted her dead that's all. . ."

"Don't be stupid. You really expect me- an upstanding citizen of Castra City, to say that aloud?!"

A look of understanding flashed through Leonard's eyes. Immediately, he got it- PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY. So, without saying a single word, he simply bowed in salute, and retreated in the distance.

Seated there, in his chair, alone with the corpses on the table, a shadow of darkness streaked through Fitch's eyes as his face hardened with resolve. Grunting, he brought the walking stick between his legs, and leaned forward- pressing his full weight on the bronze wolf head,, and pulling himself to his feet.

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