The following is an unused section from ‘The Curse of the Dark Orchid’ detailing a conversation between the Cruthers and their criminal activit:

“Gustáv’s envelope is light this month.”   Milán said.

“I will ensure that the discrepancy is rectified and won’t happen again.” replied Jan who nodded at Miroslav - one of their lieutenants -  who nodded back and left the room to see to business.

Milán was dressed impeccably as ever in a made to measure black three piece suit, a freshly pressed white suit and gold cufflinks. Ever since the brothers had begun  to rise in the organization  Milán had made sure he was dressed as sharply as he could afford. Now that money was plentiful he indulged himself in expensive shoes. His new current fixation were Italian patent shoes from a designer in  Milán. The latest pair had arrived only last week to be added to the six other pairs he owned. He knew that Jan didn’t understand and he didn’t care. What he’d never told his brother was that he could handle most things the world threw at him as long as he had warm - and most importantly - dry feet, as soon as he’d been able he’d spent his money on good shoes.   It helped him feel in control.   His fingernails had been manicured that morning. He was slim and willowy with cat-like eyes which would constantly scan the room for activity and  could stop people in their tracks with one stare. He kept his brown hair short.

Jan had been scrawny, but when he and his brother began to make money and his diet improved he sparing up, he had a growth spurt, by the time he was 17 he was over six foot and the work he did carrying round weighty packages he soon bulked out, he ate like a horse and worked like one. He agreed to do the dirty work that no one else wanted, breaking heads and providing the muscle  to show willing but after a while he found that he enjoyed the endorphin hit he got from the thrill of violence  and became one of the organisation's go-to enforcers. He had a thatch of dirty blond hair of no fixed style which despite many barbers efforts punched back into an untamed wave. Thick black eyebrows would frequently almost meet in the middle of his forehead when he scowled, which he did often. A scar zigzagged down the left side of his face. That scar had provided a valuable lesson to him. He’d been sent to provide some persuasion to a shopkeeper who was holding out, a wiry frightened looking man, Jan had completely underestimated the little shop keeper right up to the point that he attacked Jan with a knife. He’d managed to get two good swipes in with the knife before Jan shut him down. He’d stood shocked for a moment as the blood had coursed down his face at the audacity of the shopkeeper attacking him. If the shop keeper had been smart and not blindsided by nervous panic it could have worked out very differently for Jan. When the scar healed and only added to his scuffed good looks. He had a lopsided mouth which would only smile when he was in the company of his brother.

 Milán liked books which Jan didn’t see the point of, he would rather be out in the air working up a sweat, so when his brother had begun to become increasingly interested in more esoteric knowledge Jan had been skeptical and suspicious, but he’d parked his doubts. His brother had never steered him wrong before.

They had fought and schemed to rise to gain the power that they currently enjoyed. The combination of  Milán’s controlled intelligence with Jan’s street wise physical heft which propelled their rise through the ranks. When the brothers felt that their position was insulated their first order of business had been to visit a certain overweight tavern owner who had once threatened to cut off the fingers of two starving orphans. The tavern owner had been found floating in the river. His severed fingers stuffed into mouth.

 Jan found that often when he was asked to provide backup with the promise of violence that just his looks added with a scowl but be sufficient to make people fall into line, but he was mostly disappointed when he didn’t get the opportunity to use his fists for some heavy persuasion.

Jan had tried wearing suits but found them too constricting, especially for the type of tasks he was often call upon to do, and after he’d ruined his second expensive suit with blood stains he chose to wear more utilitarian clothing

  Milán sat back in his chair. The chair had its back to a reinforced wall, and in his desk drawer he had one of a number of weapons, from a revolver to a knuckle duster which he hadn’t used in anger for a few years. If their rivals came at them they’d have a fight on their hands.

They’d both come a long way and they still had a long way to go.

If he craned his neck he could see the old town square through the metal bars on the window.  Milán would also be able to see cleaners washing blood off the cobbled stone floor of the town square. Blood that he and his brother were responsible for spilling.

Milán  waited until Miroslav was out of earshot.

“You have brought the items for the ritual tonight?”

“I have, some were not easy to obtain.”

“Nothing this important would be easy.”  Milán looked around the well appointed room with deep carpets, thick curtains and artisan furniture. “We are coming to the end of our time here.”

“Why? We’re building an empire!”

“Our enemies are amassing, we won’t only be able to repel them forever. ”

Jan’s eyes flicked back and fore as he considered what his brother had said.

“We are reaching the limits of what we can do in our business interests and in the Order. What were you planning?”

“We have new worlds to conquer. Our destiny waits for us across the water in New York, we will find a building which will provide us with our gateway to a realm of power.”

The brothers exchanged a smile.

There was work to do.