Death Masks — A Short Story
Winston slid into the empty chair at the large table with a quick apology to his hostess. The first course was well underway. Being late was something that irritated him. It made him the focus of everyone’s attention for too long. To calm his nerves, he slipped his hand inside his coat pocket and felt for the satin ribbon he had placed there less than an hour before. He felt his heart slow down and a confident smile settle on his lips.
Laughter from the head of the table drew his attention. Sitting in command of the whole company was Angela Snyder, his hostess. She slid her dark green eyes his way and smiled in a secretive manner at him.
“Winston, I hope you have a good reason for being late to one of my dinner parties.” Her voice was light yet held a heaviness of disapproval.
With the ribbon still between his fingers as he sat back to allow the server place the dish in front of him, Winston smiled back. “I was detained by a matter you had sent my way earlier today.”
Angela’s smile brightened. “Ah, yes. Thank you. I’m glad you were able to jump on it so soon.” She broke out into a fit of giggles that had everyone staring at her in wonder.
It was then Winston noticed a stranger sitting at the table. He was a small man with features that resembled someone from the Old World including a handlebar…
