Rudy looked up from his reading as the doorbell rang, the tinkling melody causing a frown to appear on his face. Had he not instructed Remi to meet the guests at the gate? How had they made it all the way to the front door?
It was no matter, Rudy supposed. The entire facade of hospitality was just that – a facade. After today, there would be no need to maintain good relations with his visitors. Not for the first time that day, he contemplated his carefully laid-out plan, a plan that was now so close to its culmination.
“Sorry, Monsieur Gobert!” yelped Remi as he scampered through the foyer to greet the guests. “So terribly sorry Remi is! I will allow the hated man in at once!”
“Do not ruin my plans by letting it slip from your dullard’s mouth that I hate him so!” Rudy called after his careless servant, and he once again rued the will of his grandfather which mandated that Remi remain employed by the estate. That bumbler could prove to be the downfall of all of Rudy’s machinations if left unsupervised.
—
“Monsieur Gobert, here is Mr. Fournier and his companion,” Remi said in a surprisingly professional voice, showing the two guests into the richly-appointed sitting room. Rudy motioned to them to sit down in two chairs that were across from him.
“I hope it’s not a problem that I brought my assistant, Claude,” Evan Fournier said, gesturing to the sharply-dressed, graying man. “I am truly useless without him!”
“No problem at all,” Rudy said graciously, feeling a pang of jealousy that Evan’s butler was much more well put-together that his own. He took a glance at Remi, who was his usual pointy-faced self, but now disheveled and sweaty from the run to the front of the house. It would be so nice to have a butler who was a help and not an ever-present burden.
Evan held out the gift basket that was in his hands. It overflowed not only with French delicacies, but a large selection of American products as well. “I thought you might miss some of the tastes of America,” he explained as Rudy took the basket, which was easily two feet wide, and set it on the end table.
“This all looks quite delicious,” Rudy said, looking over the products. Among them were souvenirs and trinkets as well, including a wrought-iron replica of the Eiffel Tower. “How thoughtful of you.” In a different life, Rudy would truly have been touched by Evan’s gesture of friendship, but now, it just made his hatred burn brighter. How could this man ever think that the two of them could be friends when the gulf between their basketball abilities was so wide?
“If we visit my wine cellar, together we can pick out a bottle or two which most perfectly complement the delicacies in your gift,” Rudy said, standing up from his chair just as his two guests seemed to have gotten comfortable in theirs. His plan had just gotten unexpectedly simpler. “You can also choose some vintages to take with you back to America, as a token of our eternal comradeship.”
“That sounds perfect,” Evan replied. “Claude, please take the basket down with us.” Rudy noticed that Evan did not seem to be afraid to have his attendant carry such an expensive assortment of items. Meanwhile, Remi would only be reluctantly trusted to carry something so expensive without dropping and breaking it.
Evan and Claude followed behind Rudy and Remi on the way to the cellar, which was down a remote flight of stairs. Rudy tried to catch Remi’s eye, to make sure the servant was ready for the next part of the plan, but couldn’t get his attention.
“On this rack are my oldest, finest vintages,” Rudy said, directing Evan to a shelf of bottles with faded labels. “Come here and see which one will pair best with that Roquefort! Maybe this…Mourvedre?”
That was the code word. Remi pulled the hidden rope that would activate the guillotine blade.
“Sir! It’s a trap!” Claude yelled, having been watching the proceedings with a keen eye. He grabbed the replica Eiffel Tower and pulled the top off it before throwing it at Rudy. As Evan dived out of the way, the guillotine blade landed where he had been standing, clanging off the stone floor.
“Phase two, Remi! Phase two! No survivors!” Rudy yelled. The mini Eiffel Tower bounced off him and he looked at it with confusion until he realized it was sizzling. It was a grenade. He kicked it away from him, but it was too late; the detonation shook the entire room. Priceless bottles of wine exploded, wooden support beams were splintered, and Rudy was assaulted by searing iron shrapnel. Remi, who had been struggling with a 16th-century musket, was trapped under a fallen wine case.
Meanwhile, Evan and Claude were relatively unscathed, and departed up the stairs as the structure around them failed. “Now I am the best Frenchman in the NBA!” gloated Evan’s receding voice.
“No…never…” Rudy moaned. “Remi, please call for medical aid. And remind me never to let you operate the guillotine again.”