A Visit

A few days before flying to Paris, Beta received a call from Matilda. The little girl stammered for a long while before finally asking if he could accompany her to register at her new school.

"Has Leon disappeared again?" Beta frowned and glanced at the clock. The sound of slippers shuffling came through the phone, making it clear that the unreliable killer had once again left the eleven-year-old girl alone in the apartment.

That afternoon, Beta loaded all of Matilda's luggage into the Cadillac. Her pink suitcase, backpack stuffed with school supplies, and the potted plant she treasured were all stowed in the trunk.

"You can stay at my place for now," he told the girl. "John hasn't had anything to do lately except watch videotapes."

The lively little girl's arrival breathed life into the lifeless villa. John, who spent his days immersed in memories, even got up early to make her breakfast—a rare sight—and a long-lost smile appeared on his face.

At that moment, Matilda was ravenously eating toast slathered with strawberry jam.

Beta slung her backpack over his shoulder. "We're leaving in five minutes. Don't forget to tie your bow tie."

Crumbs fluttered down as Matilda bounced toward the garage. When the black SUV's door slammed shut, Beta caught sight of her fumbling with the seat belt in the rearview mirror. For some reason, his mood brightened a little.

The enormous Cadillac slowly backed out of the garage. Its tires rolled over the cobblestone driveway with a faint crunch.

In the upscale neighborhood, plenty of parents were already driving their children to school. A variety of luxury cars lined up at the entrance, Porsches, Land Rovers, and Bentleys gleaming in the morning light. The security guards in the gatehouse respectfully watched the expensive vehicles drive away.

The morning rush-hour traffic was fairly smooth. The private school Leon had chosen for Matilda charged a hefty tuition, but that was no obstacle for a killer.

The Cadillac turned onto the tree-lined school drive, its rugged frame standing out against the refined campus. Beta expertly backed the full-size SUV into a parking space, its massive body filling the narrow spot completely.

As he switched off the engine, he noticed several children in the same uniform eyeing the black behemoth. The vehicle was so large that its shadow could cover three or four children.

Matilda nimbly hopped out of the car, and Beta casually slung her backpack over his own shoulder.

Every detail of the school uniform reflected the care lavished on an elite education.

The pale blue Oxford shirt was made of high-count cotton, its crisp Windsor collar embroidered with a subtle school crest, and its hem neatly tucked into the skirt. The gray straight-cut skirt was tailored to fit, its hem ending a few centimeters above the knees. Black knee-high socks completed the outfit, along with glossy loafers.

Compared with the faded T-shirts and frayed jeans at public schools, every detail here marked out a class divide.

Matilda, a girl who had once witnessed her entire family being murdered, had somehow managed to keep her sunny disposition. She was as lively as a tireless cat, and her boldness often gave people headaches. Her bright eyes were always alight with curiosity.

Perhaps it was because Leon had reached out when she was about to fall into the abyss, or perhaps it was the warmth of the people around her. The girl who should have been consumed by hatred laughed and played more than many children from happy families, and got along with others even better.

In just ten minutes on campus, Matilda had already found her first "kindred spirit"—a girl with golden twin ponytails named Mindy McCrady. Standing together, the two little girls looked like mirror images: both wore neatly pressed uniforms, and though they were tiny, their eyes held a sharpness beyond their years.

"Hello, I'm Mindy McCrady." The little girl held out her hand with surprising poise. "Are you Matilda's dad?"

Beta bent down slightly and gently pinched her fingertips. "I'm her uncle. It's nice to meet you."

Mindy flashed a sly smile just like Matilda's. "Thank you!"

She turned and winked at Matilda. The two little girls immediately huddled together and whispered, like a pair of sparrows on a telephone wire exchanging secrets.

Beta carried Matilda's pink backpack. The killer who could take out a target with a single shot from 3,800 meters away was completely unable to decipher the social rules of two little girls. They sometimes communicated through laughter that sounded like a secret code, sometimes exchanged a knowing glance.

"We're at the headmaster's office!" Mindy said, turning around.

Beta looked at the gold lettering on the door that read "Headmaster," then turned to thank Mindy.

Mei Wa nodded her thanks to Doyle's secretary, who wore a pencil skirt. The woman returned a professional smile and quietly left.

Doyle sat slumped in his chair, like a hollow shell drained of its soul. The dark circles beneath his eyes were even deeper than the last time they had met, and even his meticulously combed silver hair looked dull and lifeless.

"Sit," Doyle said, his voice sounding strained.

Mei Wa turned the lock behind her. The metallic click of it catching sounded especially sharp in the quiet office.

She walked slowly toward the visitor's chair facing the sunlight. As she sat down, she noticed Doyle's fingers tapping a USB Drive.

Mei Wa tapped her fingertips lightly against her knee. "So? Is this USB Drive the new lead the Chief Superintendent mentioned on the phone?"

Doyle's thin fingers rubbed the metal casing, his fingertips running over its edges again and again as he made his final deliberation. After a moment, he pushed the USB Drive toward Mei Wa, its base scraping softly across the hardwood desk.

"Found among Eliot's belongings." Doyle's voice rasped like sandpaper. "MI6 will definitely need this."

Mei Wa didn't reach for it. Her gaze was sharp. "What are you asking for?"

"An eye for an eye!" Doyle slammed both hands down on the desk, making a fountain pen jump. "I want justice for my son."

Silence fell over the office.

Mei Wa keenly sensed that this meeting was completely different from their previous, strictly professional encounter. This time, hatred filled the Chief Superintendent's eyes.

She deliberately ignored the USB Drive and asked instead, "Are there any other leads?"

Doyle's Adam's apple bobbed.

He hesitated. Would handing over the list start a storm? Then he reconsidered. What mattered wasn't how deeply Mei Wa could dig, but making "those people" understand that he, Doyle, had handed the executioner's blade to MI6.

He didn't need to act personally in this game. He only had to light the fuse. Others would fan the flames until certain people were driven from the table for good.

A glint flashed in Doyle's sunken eyes. The dying wolf king bared his fangs.

"I have another list. The people on it are connected to the entire Downing Street shooting."