Once, all these men had sat upon the chair to command. Now, Diana was its master, "I finally make your acquaintance," she said body still, "but you dragged whoever with you. I understand the choice, considering Barnett, but those of exceptional blood should rise above the common rabble."

"Tim is a good man," she smiled, and kept a relaxed stance.

She tapped a finger, "Good men matter little, unless they're useful." Diana waved at a man at her side, and he grimaced, but where she was unable to see. The man produced a stem, cigarette, and then lit it with a match. "I get those appropriate to the task," she drew on the tobacco, "so I sent for you."

"I'm honored," Marie smiled.

A storm built and crashed in her dark blue eyes, and the man at her right shuffled. Barnett tilted his head yet no smile appeared. "Marie Enka La Voison, or should I call you Inky?" she asked the question, which hung in the air. "Hard to work with," Diana added, drew on the cigarette, now cold, but Marie jerked as if slapped. "Now, I summoned you to me for a job."

Marie nodded, smile gone, "I'm for freelance work." She would gather information on the Van Lear family, for they had a very complicated history. It made for great reading. Idea of exposing them brought her smile back.

The corner of her lip twitched, and she waved absently at the man beside her. A suitcase was produced, and then opened before Marie to divulge its contents. "Vulgar, I know," Diana drew on the stem, "such displays are required in these crass days. Long ago, such would have been unthinkable. That is the problem with certain economic theories, philosophies. It gives those of lower classes an unrealistic expectation of their life. Where you begin determines how you end, in most cases. It is cruel, really, to foster such fantasies." The last of her words delivered in a flat, dead monotone.

Marie barely heard; eyes on the suitcase, "How…much is there?"

She waved off the question, "Enough to carry you until you can decide your next step, and nothing to me. Amount is incidental, so long as it provides an end."

Someone else likes to do research, she mused, "What is the job?" This was enough to save her from Eleanor.

"I want you to exonerate Jacob," she said, and hope crept into the man's pine colored eyes.

"I'll find the truth," Marie countered, cash felt farther away, "so, that could be a problem."

"No problem in the least," she tapped a finger, "I'm certain he is innocent. Jacob is like his father, fangless though has a part to play." The words slashed at the man with the suitcase, who jerked.

"So you just can't buy the boy's freedom," Marie considered the money. "Odd that you would want to hire me," she felt the gazes of dead Van Lear upon her.

"Your family has certain talents," she glanced at the painting of Lance Van Lear. "Our family recognized it long ago, which proved invaluable to us."

"Those talents have a cost."

"Yes, Bethany was very special," Diana's head tilted forward, "and her abilities were well-documented."

"I have no need of such nonsense," she relaxed, but searched the shadows for movement. The whispers were silent.

"Investigative Reporter," she tapped a finger, eyes ran over the paintings in thought. "It is natural pursuit of one with your family," she grew still; "it was most likely the reason for your success. I've read accounts of La Voison women, and their predilection for investigations."

She jerked, swallowed, "I'm unsure of your sources, but I've functioned exceptionally without tricks."

"You've found truth were very powerful men paid a lot to hide," she tilted forward.

"I came close to a Pulitzer, more than once," Marie smiled, though it soured.

"Yes, but your boss lack propriety, and he lost his best reporter," she searched the relics. "He lost his job, but they could never bring you back on. They're afraid you'd sue them."

"I didn't know about that," she swallowed.

"You're special, and they're nothing," she waved off the thought of her former boss. "You have obvious skills, but you should never discount a powerful tool."

"Some tools take a heavy toll," she thought of Bethany.

"Your mother was unique," she leaned toward, "and a genius at her craft."

"Genius is one way to put it," she crossed her arms.

"Genius appears as insanity to fools," she waved, the suitcase was closed. "I know how it feels to have your lesser speak ill of you, but your mother deserves your respect. Blood is blood."

"I understand you have some hostilities with the McWhorter and Gregory families, even before the murder."

"We've had problems with them, ever since they came to Hemlock Hurst," Diana's lip jerked, ivory skin grew paler. Silky, golden hair flowed over her dress, each strand placed with care. "The Federal dogs never stopped their barking," she said in an icy tone full of acid.

"They're angry over the closing of the factory," she tried to read the woman, but it was like chipping at a frozen block.

"I take my place in Hemlock Hurst seriously. It is under my care," she looked at the paintings. "You've been gone for a while, so you can more clearly see the changes. It is a pit of filth, drugs, and immorality. The people walk the streets, which look like pox corpses. Is the answer more industry? The new rich of Duncannon mock them, while they leave them to live in squalor."

"How are you different?" she asked, frowned.

"I know my responsibilities to them and the town," she drew on the stem, "and it has been allowed to deteriorate. I will bring Hemlock Hurst to heel, before it eats itself alive. This duty; however, will pass on to Jacob."

"So, you think that you can save the town by pushing out the factory?"

"In the short term, there will be a lot of misery," she said in a slow measured tone. "In the long term, after the collapse of the town and it shrinks, the cancerous elements will be removed," a tremor shook the cigarette, "Hemlock Hurst reborn. The children of the Federals would have the town grow, beyond its ability, till it is a grave beast too stupid to die. While the new rich grow fat on their misery, all just to spite us," Diana grew still, skin paler now and veins visible.