Checkmate

Having already exchanged some forced pleasantries, the two men sat down across from each other at the tiny kitchen table. Richard placed the velvet jewelery box on the table and slid it across the surface like a puck. Walter stopped it with the palm of his hand and a smile slowly crept along his face as he stared down at it.

"She told me to give it back to you," Richard said as his eyes darted to the box. "No more gifts. No more anything. She's made her choice and she doesn't want you in her life anymore."

Walter flicked open the box with the same finger the wedding ring used to ensnare and looked down wistfully at the broach. It was just as beautiful as the day he had bought it for her. "Tell me Richard," he said without looking up from the box. "Do you buy her such lavish presents as this?"

"I don't need to buy her love," Richard replied forcefully. "Our romance is one based in passion, not petty bribes disguised as gifts."

Walter rose from the table and stepped over to the fridge, the silk slippers on his feet slapping loudly against the tile floor. "Providing a life of luxury for the one you love is not a bribe," he said as he reached inside the fridge to pull out a bottle of wine. "I treat people like they deserve to be treated, and as I'm sure you'd have to agree, she most definitely deserves of a piece of wonderful jewelery like that."

Walter placed a single glass onto the table in front of Richard and poured some of the red wine into it. "I'm afraid I only have red," Walter said as he walked back to the fridge and slipped the wine back inside. "And I only drink white, so you're going to be drinking alone tonight."

As Walter sat back down, Richard picked up the glass and stared down into the red liquid inside. "I suppose I'll be drinking alone then."

He raised the glass to his mouth but stopped just as it lightly touched against his lips. "You know," he smiled as he gently lowered the glass back to the table. "Why do I have this sinking feeling that something quite terrible will happen if I drink this wine?"

"Paranoia is quite common in men known to engage in somewhat devious behaviour, "Walter replied. "If you live a life that leads many a men to become your enemy, eventually you must begin to wonder if some form of retribution is coming your way."

There was a brief pause as both men pondered their next move. Richard lifted his hands from the glass of wine and folded them around the bottom of his chin, a grin growing across his face as he looked at Walter's weathered face. "I'll make you a deal," he spoke as he pointed down to the jewelery box. "If you take that broach, crush it in your hands and admit it was a cheap, worthless trinket from a pathetic old fool, I'll down this glass of wine."

Walter didn't even need a second to think. "Fine, if that will end your stubbornness, then so be it."

Walter carefully opened the box and lifted the tiny piece of jewelery off its velvet perch. He held it up to the light - its delicately folded metal embroidered with those shining diamonds that had cost such an ungodly amount - it would be such a shame to destroy but he knew it must be done to spite a fool. He clasped it tightly in his right hand and stared into Richard's eyes as he squeezed it with all his might, the thin metal bending and snapping in his clutch, the diamonds scraping against his skin, the gold pin digging into his flesh and drawing a stream of blood. It hurt he didn't care.

"Now say the words," Richard smiled. "Those sweet, sweet words."

Walter loosened his grip and the mangled broach fell to the table. "It was a cheap, worthless trinket and I most definitely am a pathetic old fool. Bottoms up."

Richard lifted the glass of wine and feigned a toast. "A toast to a deal well bargained." He downed the wine in one quick gulp and dropped the empty glass down on the table with gleeful abandon.

The two men both remained smiling as they stared at each other from across that tiny table. Richard leaned back as he slowly spun the empty wine glass around on the table with his left hand. "How long have I got," he said looking down at the watch around his wrist. "I assume I'm correct in thinking you've poisoned me."

Walter let the charade fall. "Not long. But it should be relatively painless, I figured I owed you that much."

Richard stopped spinning the glass. "I suppose I should just let it stay the course then. I presume I'm also correct in assuming you're not going to be letting me empty my stomach contents on this fine wooden table."

"Quite right again," Walter tapped something against the bottom of the table. "If you knew what I had hiding under here, you'd be sitting perfectly still."

Richard glanced at his watch. He sighed. "What happens after this? She's going to know what you did. How long before you're arrested? How long before you're spending the rest of your days in a tiny little cell? Have you even thought this through?"

Walter smiled. "Don't you worry your tiny little brain about it, my friend. What happens after you embrace the great unknown is purely my burden and I wouldn't dare clutter your final moments on the mortal coil with worrying thoughts about my future."

There was another brief pause. Richard tried not to move, somehow thinking that staying still would slow the poison heading down into his gut. His eyes darted to his watch and then back at Walter's smiling mug. "I suppose you're waiting for your apology then," Richard spoke slowly. "I'm sorry for taking her away from you. I really am."

Walter nodded. "Was that so hard? That's all I wanted to hear. Perhaps God will show you mercy for this kind and noble final act."

Richard began to sweat. His eyes once again glared down at his watch. Walter chuckled. "Counting down the seconds until you cease to be? Oh Richard, don't ruin the surprise, just let the darkness envelop you."

Richard's eyes began to dance back and forth between Walter and the watch. A sly smile began to grow across his sweat-drenched face. "Walter, Walter, Walter," he pursed his lips together smugly as he looked up at the man opposite him. "If only you knew what I was counting down."

Walter could feel his joints stiffening. He stopped grinning. "What did you do," his voice was straining. "What did you do, Richard"

Richard let out a sigh of relief and raised his wrist with the watch on it. "I'll be honest: it's tough watching the clock when it can easily turn against you. But the guy who sold me the stuff, he said it'd only take a minute and by golly he was right."

Something in Walter's throat began to shrivel up. He couldn't speak. Richard slid the watch off of his hand and dropped it on the table in front of his opponent. "The poison you gave me, it'll take quite a few more spins of this minute hand before it finishes me off," he grinned as he tapped his finger lightly against the watch front. "But the stuff I gave you? It goes through the blood stream and that's much, much faster. Only a couple more spins of that hand around and...yikes, that's it."

Walter tried desperately to squeeze the trigger of the gun resting on his lap under the table but his fingers were dead. Richard rose slowly from the table and smiled as everything fell into place. He walked towards the kitchen door, stopping as his hand circled the doorknob, turning his head back to get once last glance at Walter sitting at the table frozen in his position forever more. He resisted saying anything else and left the room, ready to expunge the poison from his system.

Walter's eyes slowly rotated around in his skull, the last remaining movement of his body. He looked down at the broken broach on the table - the mangled metal, the scarred diamonds, the golden pin coated with the poison and his blood. What a cheap worthless trinket.