Use a decoy.

Secrets of Matilda

Malthus breaths as the police cruisers drive past the mansion. The patrolmen are going to be awfully surprised when they finally catch the driver of that moped, who they will find to be a little old lady crying wild stories about being some man's sex slave.

"Suuuure, Granny..." they'll say, "don't you worry, we'll protect you from the bad man..."

Sir Malthus looks at you and sighs. "You've trespassed on my property, eavesdropped on my affairs, and nearly brought the authorities down on my head," he states with contempt, "but you've also helped me to get rid of that crazy witch. For thirty-five years she has haunted me, trying to crawl her way back to my feet. Now what am I supposed to do with you?"

It's hard to know what to say. So far it doesn't seem like there's much incentive for this man to leave you alive. Given the money and power that he has, he could probably cover up your murder adequately enough. Still, if he was puting up with the old bat for thirty-five years, couldn't he have just killed her too?

"I'm not going to kill anyone," he says, exasperated. He moves back into the house, his servants not far behind. He holds out his hand and a maid immediately places a glass of wine in it. His acrid mood softens into one of calmness as he deeply inhales the beverage. Sitting on a big, satin-covered couch with several maids standing by the wings, he looks nothing less than regal. With a subtle gesture of his eyes and a wave of his hand, he bids you to sit as well, and a maid dutifully walks over a chair for you.

"Thank you," you say, looking right into the forty-something Asian woman's eyes. She looks great in her servant uniform, the material hugging her curvaceous body as well as any leotard. The skirt is black with elaborate white frills, matched only by her long, ostentatious curls.

You sit. When you look comfortable, Malthus goes on.

"I wouldn't kill you either. Too much mess, too much...-complication.- I've lived a life of complication, oh yes..." he mutters, seemingly to himself. He strokes his small beard as he ruminates. "All I want now is a quiet life. I want enjoy the time I have left... the world I've built. Travel, perhaps once a year.

"No, perhaps when I was a younger man, I would've killed you," he says flatly. That's a relief, although, it's not easy to take such words lightly, nor wise to take such words at face value.

"Were you not young enough thirty-five years ago to kill Matilda?" you ask him, thinking of the Old Lady.

Malthus thinks momentarily. "Matilda was the first woman that I ever loved. I never had the heart to do that," he explains.

"One day, I felt that I'd had enough of her, and I released her from my control. She went crazy that afternoon, completely unsure of who she was or what she wanted. For seventeen years I held her mind in bondage. Imagine her shock when I finally removed the jewel from her neck after nearly half her lifetime had gone by without her at the wheel of it."

"The jewel that she gave you today?" you ask.

Malthus finishes his glass of wine, which is immediately replaced with another. "No, that was another: one of my last acquisitions as an archaeologist. That day, she went ballistic, leaving my home and my work ashambles. Many of my specimens were lost that day, either by her brutal hand or-- apparently-- her surreptitious fingers.

"Matilda was never the same after that. She was free and healthy, but experienced emotional outbursts and sudden episodes of renewed allegiance to me. In thirty-five years, she has moved at least ten times-- just to get away from me-- only to return within a year or two. Authorities believed me when I told them that she was just a woman obsessed, but to do anymore than that would have been too cruel."

Malthus imbibes his last glass of wine and looks at you with all seriousness. "Now, let us be gentlemen about this. You want something from me. What are you puting on the table, besides your -silence- about me and my business?" You open your mouth to answer, but he cuts you off quickly.

"Bear in mind," he growls, "that I will not be extorted. Even if I have shown you mercy today-- and make no mistake about that, -I- have shown you mercy-- I am a very powerful man. Do not force me to prove it."