Jason Tanner sat in a large leather arm chair. His legs were crossed and his lips were pursed as he stared at his steepled fingers. His man-servant, Franklin Amadeus, stood by the dark paneled oak door, his fingers playing at the hem of his tuxedo jacket. He coughed.

“Do you have something to say, Franklin?” asked Tanner, his bushy grey eyebrows rising up on his wrinkled forehead. He leaned slightly forward in his chair.

Eyes wandering the many books of the library shelves, Amadeus shook his head. “No, sir. Just something in my throat.”

Tanner nodded, and leaned back in his chair. His house was a nice house, having been built back in the 1920’s two centuries ago. Rumours whispered that there had been other houses where now there was only his lush lawn and gardens. These he knew to be true. Others whispered that the houses had been aquired through devilish means. In actuality it had been much simpler than that. Money can do lots of things. Despite his wealth, despite his two grown successful children and his four less than perfect ones, something was… missing.

Amadeus moved to the red satin curtains and threw them open. Sunlight poured in, momentarily blinding him. “Sir, it is a beautiful day. Might I suggest an evening meal outside tonight with your wife?”

Tanner grunted. “I’ve left the house, already.” He gave a little wave of his hand. Softer he added, “I saw an angel today.”

Amadeus furrowed his brows and frowned in concern. He often worried if Master Tanner was going senile, despite the older man only being in his 60s. “Sir?”

Tanner quickly stood up, looking more vigorous than he had in years. “How long has your family been indebted to mine?”

Amadeus swallowed. “Since the last depression, sir, some 80 years ago. Might I suggest we go outside for some air?”

“This angel was raven-haired, with the body of a Greek goddess.” Tanner’s eyes flashed insanely. “I must have her!”

Amadeus flinched, involuntarily backing up a step. The wall was close behind him, and he leaned back into it for support. He now was sure his fears were coming true.

Turning to a bookshelf, Tanner ran his fingers over the spines of many books. “There is just one problem.”

“Your wife, sir?”

“No. The angel. She’s your wife.”

Red anger flashed through the servant’s eyes. One day, they had only been married one day! Amadeus’ hand instinctively wrapped around the glass vase on the small table next to him.

“What do you want in exchange?”

Amadeus put the vase down. He smiled, a cold vicious smile. Rumours whispered he was a cold and vain man. Others say he had killed his own father so he would no longer have to take care of him. They weren’t far from the truth. His eyes scanned the room, and settled on the scene outside. “I want your house, your wealth.”

The older man shook his head. “Not this one, the property on Old 42nd Street, instead. I’ll start you off with ten million dollars and you are now cleared of debt. You are a free man, Franklin.”

If it was possible, Amadeus’ smile grew broader.

*****

Amadeus walked into his house, the one that his grandfather had moved into 80 years ago during the depression. The Tanners of that day had offered him a house and a job that would last for generations. Franklin Amadeus had just cleared it. He could now make them proud with a true lineage of his own.

“Honey? Honey, are you alright?” He snapped out of his day dream. His wife looked worried. “I was telling you that dinner was ready.”

“Oh, yes, Elizabeth. I’m fine.” He brushed past her and walked up the stairs. Elizabeth followed. She gasped when she saw him pull out a suitcase and begin to throw clothing in.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“I’m moving up in the world.” He slammed the suitcase shut.

“What about me?”

“What about you? I don’t care anymore.” He tried to go through the door way, but she stopped him. “Let me go. You are no longer my wife.” She looked up at him, mouth agape. Tears streamed down her face, black from her mascara. Her dark hair seemed especially frizzy at the moment. “It wasn’t anything you did. I traded you.”

He pushed her aside and walked down the stairs. She walked slowly after him, whispering, “What about me?”

Amadeus walked through the kitchen, heading towards the door. Outside, his carriage waited to take him to a new life. It never felt so good. He opened the door. A woman was outside, her dark hair framing her pale heart-shaped face. Her chest was heaving and a knife was grasped in her right hand.

“Where is the bitch?” her voice dripped with venom.

“Excuse me, Amanda, but I need to get by.” Amadeus shifted his weight to his left foot and adjusted his grip on his suitcase.

“Mistress Amanda to you, servant,” her dark eyes narrowed as she looked over his shoulder. “There she is.”

“Are you here to tell me who I’ve been traded to? Am I to be a slave? Is this why I’m here?” Elizabeth’s voice sounded pitiful.

Amanda Tanner pursed her lips. Amadeus tried to squeeze past. She held up the knife to his throat. “You aren’t leaving yet.” She moved him into the kitchen and closed the door behind her. She turned to Elizabeth, “So, you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

Amanda looked at Amadeus and shook her head. “You bastard. Both of you. Fucking bastards.” Her eyes didn’t leave Amadeus’, but she talked to Elizabeth. “Apparently you are to be Jason’s new wife. I thought you two were having an affair.”

“But what was I traded for?” Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her husband. He seemed to squirm under the scrutiny.

“Good question,” said Amanda.

“Look you two. Just let me go. I have to get my carriage and get to my own place.” He moved towards the door.

“You’re a land-owner now, servant?”

Amadeus darted to the door. There was a loud crash. He fell to the floor, the back of his head wet with blood. Elizabeth let the broken bottle drop to the floor. The two women locked eyes. “Oops,” said Elizabeth.

The next day, the papers reported the fire that burned the old mansion. Tragically, Master Jason Tanner and his faithful man-servant Franklin Amadeus died in the fire leaving their grieving widows behind, Mistress Amanda Tanner and Elizabeth Amadeus. The two, brought together by grief, moved into the property on Old 42nd Street. Soon afterwards, however, the rumours began to fly. Some whispered that the fire was no accident, caused by a jilted lover. Others say that the two women had known each other beforehand. But we know how rumours go. They’re mostly fiction.

Aren’t they?