In the east wing of the Cole mansion, the night was dark.
Mrs. Cole stood by the window as she watched the stars in the sky. Mrs. Cole's study smelled of old paper and Coffee.
Her lamp on the table was the only light in the room.
She wore a black dress and a single strand of pearls.
Collins stood in one corner of the room with his hands folded.
He had worked for the family for years. He wore the look of a man who had learned how to be useful and invisible at the same time.
She stepped forward, picked up the handkerchief on her desk, and unfolded it. Her eyes watched Collins like a hawk.
"Did you send the message?" Mrs. Cole asked in a quiet voice.
"Yes, ma'am," Collins said. "I told her to drop it, I warned her."
Mrs. Cole let out a cold smile. "And did she listen?"
"No ma'am. She is stubborn. I don't think she is the type that we can easily scare away. She'll keep digging." Collins replied.
Mrs. Cole folded her handkerchief and set it down on the desk. She walked toward the side table. The pearls at her throat clicked softly.
A chessboard sat on the table. Mrs. Cole took her seat as she moved the pieces on the chessboard.
"Since she won't step back," she said as she picked up the bishop and stared at it for a long time. "Then we'll just have to take her out of the game." She said as the bishop kills a pawn. She raised her head, staring into Collins' eyes like she was staring into his soul.
Collin understood immediately what she meant. He nodded. "There is something else, ma'am."
"Say it!" Mrs. Cole said.
"Mr. Donald is attracted to the journalist. He is different around her. he is calmer and softer." Collins said.
"He is young," she said. "He is inexperienced. He will learn to bend the world to his will. But for now we cannot let a nobody undo a lifetime of work."
Collins shifted. He feared nothing but failure. "We have men ready," he said. "They will do what must be done. Quietly. Cleanly."
Mrs. Cole stood and crossed to a portrait. Her finger pressed the frame. Her voice was a whisper and a verdict.
"Make sure they leave no trace." She looked at him, "And make sure Donald never suspects who ordered it."
Collins met her eyes. He felt the weight of the house sink into him. "It will be done," he said.
Outside the window a car engine coughed and then fell silent.
Mrs. Cole smiled again.
She turned from the window. "I want her dead. Vanished. Gone."