Alerich swirled the tumbler in his hand as he surveyed the disaster that was his new office. It had been weeks since his father’s things had been sent from Ashimar House in Surrey. Granted, it had been a busy time between the mess with the raven murder, Bertrand’s visit, and of course, going to war, but still, he felt as if the piles should have gotten a little smaller. The truth was, he was procrastinating with this project, sorting through his father’s papers. He was sure that there were dozens of things in these boxes that he needed to tend to but just as certain that every box held something painful that he would have to handle, contemplate, and process. Processing had not been his strong suit since December, since the night his father died.
This is nonsense, Rick. They’re just boxes. Open one and get started. He tried to pysch himself into motion, even laying a tentative hand on the closest box to hand, but he just stood, staring at the hand, so much like his father’s, poking out from the suit he had worn to the meeting tonight. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Stop being a ninny and open it.
He knocked back the amber scotch in the tumbler and set it on his desk, picking up the box knife that had seen too little use this month and opening the box. He pulled open the flaps and was greeted with file folders, all with neat, printed labels in their plastic tags. He thumbed through the top few—financial transactions pertaining to the House in Surrey going back more than twenty years. No ghosts here. He blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and pulled out the folders, filing them in the currently empty filing cabinets behind him.
He fell into a rhythm, opening a box, sorting and filing the contents. He would go through them in more detail once he had a handle on which topics were the most pressing. The tension slowly left his shoulders as he worked, and he found breaking down each box as he emptied it was slightly cathartic—slowly reclaiming his office, box by empty box.
He stooped to grab a box from the floor, and it was a bit heavier than the rest. He hefted it and set it in the newly unearthed leather chair in front of his desk. He extended the box knife’s blade and cut carefully through the packing tape. Peeling back the box flaps revealed bubble wrap, and underneath, the hard edge of his father’s computer. Finally. He’d been looking for this from the beginning, though admittedly, not very determinedly.
Alerich gently pulled the machine from the box and set it on his desk. If the computer was really here, there should be a monitor somewhere to. He looked at the rest of the boxes with renewed hope. He had started to believe that his father’s staff—his staff now, he supposed—had been messing with him, holding the computer back and telling him it was here.
He lifted the empty box to break it down and it rattled. He looked through the bubble wrap and in the bottom of the box, lying unnoticed was another square wrapped in the plastic. Alerich pulled it out and unwrapped it revealing an old VHS tape. It wasn’t labeled, though it looked like a home tape, the little tab still in place for recording.
What is this, then? He turned the tape over in his hands, but the underside of the box gave no clues to its contents either. Alerich eyed the tape with some trepidation. Magnus Ashimar had been a man of many secrets and most of them involved blood and pain. The chances that this tape held one or more of his father’s multitude of crimes were high. But it was alone in the computer box. If his father had kept trophies, shouldn’t there be a cache of them. Why one tape.
Alerich poured himself another scotch. He hadn’t run across a will or any other document detailing what Magnus wanted to happen to his property on his demise. He supposed this could be a visual deposition. He took a deep drink from the tumbler and stood up, gripping the tape. Only one way to find out.
Alerich carried the tape into one of the parlor rooms on the first level of Mulcahy House. It was a cozy room with couches lining three sides of the room and a large television with a media cabinet nestled in between them. He and Winter had been spending several of the cold February nights in here cozied together watching movies. Alerich loved movies and Winter had admitted that she hadn’t seen many in years. They were making up for lost time together, and it was one of Alerich’s favorite parts of the day.
He looked down to the VHS in his hand and stilled. He thought about his twin, upstairs. This had belonged to their father. Maybe he should get her before watching it. But the truth was, Elspeth was having an even harder time coming to terms with their father’s passing than he was. She was finally starting to get a little of her old sparkle back, mostly due to Thomas’s influence, he was sure. He didn’t want to drive her back into the depths if he could avoid it. No, better to watch this alone and see what was on it. He could always share it with Elspeth later if it would bring her comfort.
Alerich turned on the TV and the old combination VHS/DVD player. He was amazed that the thing still worked and had big plans for a modern media room in the House soon, but for now, this would serve his purposes. He pulled the tape out of its sleeve and slipped it into the slot on the machine, picking up the remote and settling down on one of the couches.
The picture rolled for a moment, cutting in rather abruptly, a home movie then. Alerich took a steadying drink and hoped that he was right that this was not likely to be a trophy film. He heard his father’s voice as the picture zoomed through a room not lit properly for filming. “What have we here?”
The picture moved jerkily as though whoever was taking the video was walking around a corner, then settled onto a picture of a young woman sitting on the floor in the center of a whirlwind of mess, blocks and toys strewn everywhere and two toddlers laughing in the mayhem. The woman was smiling and laughing and tenderly smoothed the hair out of the eyes of one of the toddlers.
Alerich’s heart stuttered. The smiling woman was his mother, Carine, making the twin toddlers himself and Elspeth. And the cameraman was his father.
“What games are we playing today?” his father asked. His mother smiled at the camera and replied with her light French accent, “We’re building a bear house. Their old one was destroyed by a hobby horse stampede.”
The Magnus holding the camera laughed and focused on one of the toddlers in matching blue and white shorts and shirts. “Alerich, what do you have there?”
The toddler Alerich held up a well-loved teddy bear in chubby fingers. “The daddy bear.”
The camera zoomed close in on the toddler’s hands. “What a fine bear. Make sure you build him a good house.”
Toddler Alerich nodded solemnly. The other toddler, little Elspeth, wandered into the frame with a bear of her own. “This the mummy bear.”
Magnus focused the camera on her. “Right you are, my little love. She’s beautiful.”
Elspeth beamed. “Just like Mummy!”
The Magnus behind the camera laughed and focused the camera on his wife. “Just like Mummy, indeed.”
Carine laughed up into the camera, the sound echoing in Alerich’s heart. She looked so happy, here with her husband and twins. “Come play with us, love.”
And to Alerich’s amazement, his father set the camera on some hard surface and walked into the maelstrom of toys and toddlers and sat on the floor, little Elspeth immediately plunking herself into his lap. He bent down and kissed the toddler’s head and smiled at Carine before turning to little Alerich. “Here, son, let me help you build a fine house for your bears.”
The little Alerich on the tape beamed up at his father and began bringing him the blocks that were scattered around the room, watching his father place each brick into a wall.
Alerich pressed the pause button and felt hot tears running down his cheeks. So, they had been happy once. All of them. He had always wondered if they had been before his mother was murdered and his father became the cold, demanding monster in his nightmares.
He knocked back the rest of the drink and hit the rewind button. The tape whirred and he pressed play from the beginning. He wasn’t sure how the tape ended. He feared this happy memory would end like so many of his, but before he found out, he selfishly wanted to see them as a happy family and dream what ifs for just a few moments more.
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