As he looked around, he realised where he
was standing, as he had been here once before to secretly deliver a fur coat
that had been made from a snow leopard. He was stood in the foyer of
Buckingham Palace.
His mouth was wide and gaping but he
didn't bother to close it, certain that most people walked in and did that
anyway. The two men from the helicopter were no where to be seen; he was alone.
Before him was a huge mahogany staircase with velvet stairs and a golden
railing; on the walls were ancient oil paintings and portraits in intricate
frames, alongside the plaques of slain animal heads- which, after spending so
much time in the company of nature, made him feel nauseous; the carpet was
patterned with gaudy diamonds in cream and blue colours; the doors were large
and matched the wood of the stairs; there were two rooms either side of him,
one was separated by a closed door and the other was through an arch. As he
studied the adjoining room more closely, he could see a glass coffee table in
front of a white leather sofa, the floor was wooden and a long rug covered most
of it in the centre, where the sofa was. But as he entered the room and looked
at the rug more closely, he saw what it was. The snow white fur of a polar bear
was lain delicately in place and the head was by his feet as it snarled at him,
forever frozen by death in such a grimace. His hand flew up to his mouth as he choked
in horror and disgust. Backing away, he turned to run out of the room, lit
brightly by the sun coming in through the two bay windows behind the
sofa.
“Daniel Parker,” a sudden voice made him stop,
cold.
Turning around, he saw a man behind him.
He was dressed in a suit and his hair was neatly combed back.
“Father?” he gasped.
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