Death by Deadly Nightshade

Breathless and terrified, Fatima double-checked the lock to her train cabin’s door. Still doubting herself, she checked the lock again. The door is secure you foolish woman, she thought to herself as she closed her eyes momentarily, thoroughly exhausted.

Having survived the dangerous channel crossing and the hap-hazard journey to the Paris train station, her thoughts were solely focused on two things, her father’s death and her final destination…Istanbul.

Slumping down onto the richly woven fabric of the banquette sofa, Fatima nervously glanced at her intimate surroundings. Her small, yet comfortable compartment soothed her frazzled nerves as she removed her winter-weathered hat and gloves, placing them neatly on the side table adjacent to her seat. Accompanied by a lone travel bag, her tranquil life as an exhibit designer at the museum under the curatorship of her father now seemed worlds away.

Fatigued, the young woman opened her suitcase, her eyes scanned the hastily packed contents enclosed. One object very starkly stood out amongst her personal effects. She ran her fingers across the small black notebook, engraved with her father’s name.

“Dr. Robert Edward Winslow.” She whispered aloud, as she continued to run her forefinger over the diary’s facade. Fatima slowly opened the cover of the small journal. Much to her surprise, however, was something tucked snugly inside.

Burrowing her eyebrows together, Fatima opened the rather bulging envelope. Shocked, she covered her mouth in disbelief. Upon removing its contents, and again for what seemed to be the ninety-ninth time, her eyes darted in the direction of the cabin’s door and lock.

Reassuring herself no-one could enter, she removed the large stack of cash. Counting it carefully, Fatima sat motionless as she lay the envelope and its contents onto her lap. She shook her head in complete stupefaction as her hazel-colored eyes took in the incredulous monetary sight.

Twenty thousand pounds, to be exact!

For it had been just a mere day before that she was crying in agony over the deceased body of her beloved father. Like a broken record, that infinite second in time continued to play over and over in her mind.

“You must not waste a moment, my child,” her father had struggled with his words as he gasped, fighting for every breath he could muster from the hospital bed, “collect your things and leave London…now my dearest daughter, for they will be hunting you down next, as they did me!”

“I don’t understand, father, who will be looking for me? Who did this to you?” Fatima shook her head in disbelief as she clung to her father’s side, refusing to move as the nurses and doctors implored her to do so.

Pulling his daughter close, he whispered in her ear. “Go, my child. Go now. You know the code to the safe in my study, you will find all the answers you will need. Take everything my dear, and go to your mother’s homeland, for there you will be safe. I sent word to your uncle weeks ago, he will be awaiting your arrival.”

Then suddenly, with a blink of an eye…he was gone.

Snapping back to reality, Fatima took a deep breath as she turned the first page of her father’s diary. Tucked neatly between the pages, the young woman removed a single sheet of paper, addressed to her. Her meticulously manicured fingers, slightly shaking, opened the piece of paper carefully.

“My dearest, Fatima,” it began, “if you are reading this letter, then I have now joined your beloved mother, Abiha, in the heavens.”

Trying to fight back the warm wetness of tears she felt sliding down her skin, she briskly wiped them away as she continued reading.

“I fear greatly for your safety and with the utmost urgency, I insist you leave London for the sanctuary of your mother’s homeland. I have enclosed, so that you may fully understand, a small black notebook, entailing the truth. Please, my daughter, trust no one until you have arrived safely in Istanbul into the protectorship of your uncle. The crimes of which I have been secretly investigating run deep amongst some of my fellow curators, and I am terribly sorry that I could not disclose this information to you sooner. I feared for both your safety and that of my own. I have enclosed for you, twenty thousand pounds, to keep you going in the event the evil of which I have succumbed to, comes looking for you…”

Fatima paused briefly as she closed her eyes. Gently massaging the creased lines across her forehead, the young woman struggled to comprehend the information of which she was bestowed. Opening her now heavily weighted eyes, she continued with her father’s letter.

“…I know all of this will, I daresay, be overwhelming and confusing for you. Just please remember, my dear child, how much I love you.”

Shaking her head with confusion, the young woman continued to wipe the tears from her face. Breathing a long sigh, she turned the page as she prepared herself to continue with her reading.

Bang, Bang, Bang!

Nearly jumping out of her seat, Fatima scrambled to collect the money and journal, hastily hiding them amongst her clothing in the open suitcase.

Cautiously approaching the cabin door, she leaned in slowly covering the knob with her hand. Clearing her throat, she attempted to project a voice of confidence that seemingly masked her true feelings, those of utter fear.

“Whose there?” She called out.

“Mademoiselle, ticket, si vois plait.” Replied a pleasant, yet authoritative voice.

Hesitating, Fatima forced her hands deep into the pockets of her overcoat. Pulling out her ticket, she glanced at it quickly, before focusing her attention back to the human presence on the other side of the door.

After a moment of silence, the voice implored again. “Mademoiselle, ticket please.”

Tracing the cabin lock with her fingers, Fatima felt the heightened fear and anxiety creeping its way throughout her body.

“Trust no one…” the voice of her now-dead father could be heard in her mind.

Looking around the small quarters, the uneasy woman scanned the space for something, anything, she could use as a possible weapon. Noticing the metal tip end of a letter opener peeking out from a buttoned compartment within her suitcase, she quickly grabbed it.

“One moment, please.” She slowly turned the lock on the sliding compartment door. Stepping back quickly, Fatima braced herself, wrapping her fingers tightly around the makeshift weapon as she hid it behind her back.

Standing before her was a slender looking man, with light blonde hair, tucked neatly under a small hat. Doe-eyed and seemingly innocent in appearance, she relaxed her stance. Reaching his hand out, the man stood patiently as he waited for her ticket.

Shoving the document into his hand rather clumsily, Fatima forced a smile as the young man continued to stare intently at her. Beginning to feel uncomfortable, she took a step back as she reached for the door, intent on shutting it as quickly as she could.

“Merci, enjoy your travels…” glancing down at the ticket, the man smiled as he again made eye contact with her, “Ms. Winslow.”

“How do you know my name?” Her eyes began to widen in terror as she tightened her grip on the letter opener still hidden behind her back.

“Ummm, it is here, Mademoiselle…on my paper.” He replied in broken English as he pointed to her name, neatly written on the passengers list.

“Yes, of course!” She answered sheepishly as she attempted to force a smile.

Nodding his head briskly as he turned his attention to the next compartment, the man disappeared as suddenly as he appeared.

Backing up from the entryway, her free hand secured the lock once more.

“Trust no one…” the words echoed in the back of her mind.

Sitting down, she wrapped herself tightly in her winter coat, trembling slightly as she tucked the letter opener into her right pocket. Reaching for the little black notebook, Fatima bit her lip as she thumbed her way through the numerously filled pages, her father’s inked handwriting covering every available inch of space.

“They are smuggling drugs. Copious amounts of opium and cocaine! They are hiding them within the artifacts and distributing them on the black market. People I trust! I am at a loss for words, as I simply cannot fathom they would be involved in such a treacherous affair.” The words stood out harshly against the contrast of the ivory-colored pages.

Fatima let out a huge sigh as her tense body collapsed against the backing of the banquette seat.

Drug smuggling? Really? But whom, and why…for money, power…what?

The questions burned through her mind like wildfire. It was, after all, 1920, and the Dangerous Drug Act was the law of the land.

Well, if drugs were going to be smuggled into England, hiding them in the artifacts coming into the museum from Asia was the perfect means to do so. Of course, the curators would never be suspected, for these were some of the most upstanding and respected citizens of the city!

Turning the pages carefully, fully engrossed in the paragraphs of which she continued to absorb, Fatima found herself holding her breath. She could feel the anger building deep inside, these were people she had known her entire life! For now, in her mere twenty-five years of existence, the weight of the knowledge of which she possessed was overwhelming.

“He was poisoned, my dear, I’m terribly sorry.” The words pierced her mind like daggers. Reflecting back to that moment when she stood in utter disbelief, watching, as her father’s body was covered with the hospital sheet. “There was nothing we could do. We believe it was a highly concentrated dose of poison, we won’t know the results of just what until the autopsy is performed.”

Reverting back to the present moment, her eyes darted across the cabin to the world whizzing by outside her window. Her entire life turned upside down. Standing up suddenly, Fatima began to pace as the fear and anxiety quickly returned.

Turning the next page with caution, she pursed her lips together tightly as she fought back the tears. In shock by the next words written in her father’s meticulous handwriting, the name of the individual pained her like a raw, gaping wound.

“I still cannot believe it myself. I simply cannot understand why Sam--,”

Bang, Bang, Bang!

Fatima whirled around suddenly, completely startled as she stared in fear at the ornately paneled door. In doing so, accidentally dropping the small notebook to the floor.

“Whose there?” She called out while reaching into her right coat pocket, gripping the letter opener as though her life depended on it.

This time, however, there was no answer in return.

Fatima tightened her lips together as she reached for the cabin’s lock and flung the door open. Glancing down the hall to her left, and then to her right, she stood motionless as a sense of dread washed over her. For not a soul was in sight.

Then something caught her attention. Her gaze slowly made its way to the floor. For there, sitting neatly in a crystal vase on a tray, was a single flower. A Deadly Nightshade to be exact, or Belladonna as it was also known, a highly toxic plant.

For there, in full bloom was the poison that killed her father, staring back at her in all its glory.

It was in that very moment that Fatima held her breath as the realization began to sink in. Her eyes again, growing wide with fear.

She was, in fact, not alone…for “they” were near.