Work Text:
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The faint sound of rain coursed through the bustling streets of England as a light sprinkle started to arise. Vick pulled out his umbrella, quickly opening it so as to not let a single drop of water fall on his pressed suit.
After a long day of work, he had finally been able to leave his bank and return home. Being a businessman was not an easy job, but Vick found himself enjoying the work much more than any of the other occupations men were usually offered.
He passed by a few stray beggars, cupping their hands to ask for some loose change. Vick scoffed under his breath, ignoring their pleas. He never cared for those who asked for money without giving anything in return.
The graceful music of a violin hit his ears as he passed by a coffee shop. A tall man with a sign that said “CANNOT SPEAK, TIPS ARE APPRECIATED” propped up in front of him seemed to be the source of the noise. Vick fished out a twenty dollar bill from his wallet, dropping it into the musician’s open case. The man gave him a grateful nod in return, proceeding with his playing.
At least they have some sort of talent to provide. Vick thought to himself.
The rain started to beat down a tad harder. Vick took out his keys, relieved to see his estate in the distance. After collecting his mail, he unlocked the double doors and stepped inside his home.
Vick’s mansion was far more elaborate on the inside compared to the outside. To him, wasting money on decorations any normal person could see was worthless. He would rather showcase his wealth to people he cared about enough to actually let inside his home.
The tycoon gently opened one of his envelopes, seeing that it was addressed to him from his brother, Forcas. He rolled his eyes, taking out the letter placed inside.
–
Hello, dear brother!
How have you been doing lately? Still unmarried, I assume. It’s fine, there’s a time and place for everything I suppose.
Your lovely niece Angelica brought up to me that it’s been a while since you last visited, and proposed inviting you over for dinner on Wednesday! Is that not so sweet of her to remember her uncle? I’ve also invited Cecilia and her husband, as per the request of Winnie. I very much hope you’ll be able to come. 7:30 should be fine.
With love-
Your kind, caring, devout, humorous, handsome brother Forcas.
–
Vick scoffed as he read the ending. Forcas would never change. His elder brother had always been the accommodating type, and he loved his two children to death. His wife had passed away when Angelica was quite young, not long after Winston was born. The period of grief Forcas had gone through was something that Vick never wanted to see again. He would take the annoying, outgoing personality his brother had now over that any day.
Considering it was Tuesday, he’d still have about a day to mull it over. Putting the letter to the side, Vick opened the second one he had gotten. He grimaced when he read the addressee name: Cecilia. The man pried it open, expecting the long-winded paragraphs his friend usually sent him. He was surprised to see only a few sentences of writing.
–
Vick
I would love for you to meet me and my husband at 8:30 pm Tuesday for a drink. He’s been asking for you to come by for quite a while. As you know, we’ve had great trouble moving a hefty dresser out of our bedroom. If you have a bag, I would love for you to bring it. It would make the whole process much easier.
Cecilia
–
Immediately, Vick knew something was wrong.
Firstly, Cecilia never addressed him as just Vick. Not to mention she would never ask him for help over her own personal needs. And why was her handwriting so sloppy? It was as if the lady only had a short amount of time to write it, like she was in a rush.
He looked at the time; it was 7:30 pm. He really should start looking for a bag.
As he went through his drawers for what Cecilia had described, he thought to himself. Just what situation had she gotten herself into? A bag? What could she possibly need that for?
After a few minutes, he managed to find a large black bag–the kind meant for trash disposal. He clicked his tongue. The cleaner must have left it.
It should do the trick, though.
Vick looked at the time. It was now 7:45.
He should start heading there.
The businessman quickly put on his coat, slipping on his black gloves. After stuffing the black bag into a small briefcase, he quickly left the mansion, rain still pattering onto the ground.
As he heard the sound of his own footsteps, he faltered. Perhaps I should be a tad quieter.
This time, he slipped between the alleys of the streets. Places like these were quite dangerous at this hour, but Vick’s appearance was more than enough to scare people away. He made his way toward Cecilia’s home, looking to the sides to make sure no one saw him.
Cecilia’s home was, quite frankly, the opposite of his. The walls were elaborately decorated, the doorframe expensive and posh. But as someone who had seen the inside plenty of times, the interior was not as well-planned as the outside.
He silently pressed the doorbell, taking note of how the blinds were shut tight. There was a newspaper left by the paperboy in the early morning, still unclaimed by the inhabitants of the home. After a few seconds of waiting, the door was delicately pried open.
There stood his best friend of thirteen years.
The lady had curly blonde hair, billowing down to her shoulders, a testament to the time and care spent in keeping it lush and healthy. Its beauty was obstructed by the dark summer hat she wore, a small feather protruding out of it.
Cecilia was ramrod straight. She was dressed quite simply, in a soft turquoise gown with a slightly loosened corset. Her shoulders were bare, something Vick found odd. When the girl was younger she’d often wear her sleeves pushed down in such a way, disappointing many of the adults around her. But marriage had ended even the thought of doing such a thing in front of others, making her signs of rebellion few and far between.
“Come in,” the woman said under her breath, only opening the door a tad more to allow Vick to come inside.
His eyes widened the moment he stepped into the living room, the door shutting tight behind him.
“Cecilia-you-”
Vick’s words died in his throat as he stared at the lifeless body of Bryce Stryker, strewn on the floor and eyes glazed over. The tips of his fingers were red, swollen, and bruised.
Arsenic poisoning.
He spun to face Cecilia.
“You made me come here to help you hide your husband’s body?!”
She sighed, her expression showing not even a hint of remorse. “Yes Vick, is it not obvious?”
He stared at her, completely dumbfounded. Sure, Cecilia had been rebellious in their youth, but killing her own husband? That was something Vick had never expected her to even think of.
“Help me stuff him in a bag. There’s a ditch nearby, so I was thinking we’d be able to burn his body and clean up any traces still left behind. I’ll also have to dispose of my gloves…” she trailed off, muttering to herself.
How…How long had she planned this?
How much time had it taken to acquire the arsenic needed for the murder? How much mapping did she need to do in secret, to figure out how exactly to cover up the incident?
And she just…expected Vick to be okay with this? Sure, her husband was annoying, but he couldn’t imagine what would happen if someone found out he’d aided her in killing Bryce. Cecilia would be accused of having an affair, Vick’s business would die–there was even the chance that she could be sentenced to death.
He sat down in a nearby armchair, crossing his legs as he looked down at Bryce. Thoughts about her future, how they’d cover this up, and how she even managed to plan the murder continued to swirl through his mind. In the end, he choked out a single word.
“Why?”
Cecilia’s expression instantly soured.
“Why? Why, Vick?” she glared. “Lucky you, not having to go through the terrors of marriage. Are you the one who was forced to marry a person you barely knew? Are you the one who was used, talked down to, and violated?” she yelled, tears starting to spring at her eyes.
Vick’s eyebrows furrowed. He knew he was privileged. Simply being born a man was the greatest fortune he’d ever be granted in life, not being tied down to the rules of society like his friend was.
Would he have even been able to survive it?
Being violated every night, treated like an object, being seen as an accessory to flaunt to nobles and businessmen. Having to repress all the emotions he felt in favor of pleasing someone else, all while being blamed for every little problem in the world.
The more he thought about it, the more it started to make sense. Why Cecilia had done what she did. A widow gets much more freedom than a wife–she would be judged far less and be able to live the life she wanted.
By the time Vick came back to his senses, he realized Cecilia was softly crying. Tears fell down her cheeks, but hardly any noise accompanied them.
“Look, I’m-I’m sorry,” he told her, sighing as he looked at her wet eyes. “But there’s no time for sobbing. We have a body to stuff.”
Cecilia nodded, wiping her tears away.
“...Did you bring the bag…?” she murmured.
Vick opened his suitcase, unearthing the black bag he’d gotten from his house. “Here.”
Slowly, the two shielded Bryce’s body with the cover. Cecilia kept the bag steady as Vick pushed him in. When he had finally been thoroughly stuffed, the tycoon tied a small knot at the end to keep him inside. Thank God the bag had been big enough to hold him.
The problem came when it was time to actually carry his body.
“Gods-how much do you feed this man?” Vick whisper-yelled as he attempted getting his body off the floor.
Cecilia grimaced. “It’s not my fault he likes drinking so much. But who knows, maybe you’re just weak.”
Vick rolled his eyes, used to her insults already. “Help me get him off the floor. The ditch shouldn’t be that far, right?”
Cecilia nodded her head, moving to help pick up her husband. She held the bottom of the bag as the businessman lifted up the top, the two carefully making their way to the back door.
Vick was thankful that Cecilia’s house was a few blocks away from the city, since it made the act of carrying a body-shaped trash bag far less conspicuous. Thankfully, by now it had stopped raining. As the two made their way to the ditch, he piped up.
“What will you do once we’ve hidden the body? You must have thought up some sort of reason for why he’d be missing.”
Cecilia let out a puff of air, responding. “Of course I’ll have to tell the authorities…but I was thinking of just saying he died in the woods. Went out on a hunting trip and never came back,” she smiled. “They’ll never find his body and I’ll finally be free.”
As much as Vick wanted to tell her off for being so happy about this, he couldn’t deny that it was refreshing to see the spark in her eyes back again. It had been so long since his friend was genuinely excited, her hopes and dreams fading away with her marriage.
When the two finally arrived at the ditch, Cecilia laid the bag down on the ground. She gave Vick a smirk before kicking her husband into the deep chasm. Vick couldn’t help but laugh as he saw her excitedly take out a matchbox. With a strike of her wrist, the match lit up.
“Goodbye, foolish husband!” she called into the ditch, before chucking it onto the bag.
The two friends watched as the body of Bryce caught on fire, the flame growing bigger and bigger as Cecilia threw more and more matches at it. When the bag was thoroughly burned, Vick extinguished it with a bucket of water from a nearby well.
Cecilia started laughing once more, clutching her stomach tightly. Vick had to clamp a hand over her mouth so as to not alert anyone nearby of what they’d done.
“Well, I suppose you won’t be seeing Winnie then,” Vick remarked.
Cecilia paused. “Oh-I completely forgot about your brother’s dinner!” she crossed her arms. “What makes you think I won’t be coming? I love that boy to death!”
Vick was silent for a few seconds. “Lia, you just killed your husband. It’s stupid to go out as if everything’s fine. You’ll be a prime suspect if you don’t go tell the authorities tomorrow.”
Cecilia sighed, her brows furrowing. “Oh, fine. Lucky you, getting to see your family while I have to sort out this mess…”
“Wonder whose idea that was.”
She chuckled. “Shut your mouth, Vick.”
The rest of the night was spent in silence, the two casually walking back to Cecilia’s place as if they hadn’t just hid a body. When they arrived at the mansion, the two made quick work of tidying up the place.
Once the tycoon was about to leave, Cecilia stopped him.
“Vick.”
He turned around. “Yes?”
“Thank you for being my friend.”
He blinked at the statement, acknowledging it with a nod of his head.
And so, Vick turned around, leaving Cecilia to her new life of freedom.