DEPP SHADOWS 3

Part 151

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Abandon ship!  Into the long boat.

Being where uncertainties and ups and downs have many of the principles taking new directions and considering alternatives … Catharine continues conducting Ava’s goddess experience ... Netta tells Manouche she wants to remain at the castle for the time being … Sands, missing Isabella, drowns his sorrows at The Shark’s Tooth … Donnie gets his old job back at Security … Ava and George reconnect … Kaatje struggles with her feelings about impending motherhood … Alphonse finds himself involved in Godley’s investigation … Marijke proceeds with caution in assisting Kaatje … Grace tells Donnie of her plan to indulge in a brief respite on The Brave, away from it all … Hanson, upon learning the contents of his folder from Portsmith, is suddenly very glad he will be assisting Donnie on the case … Maryann helps Don Juan get his house in order, as it were … and a handsome psychologist hired by Manouche appears at the factory, to help Willy and Madame with a little anger management.

 

At Chateau Blanchefort:

 

Portsmith *suddenly frowns*  Wilson.  Stop for a moment.  And just where did she hear about Bitterfeld?  Do you have a fancy to go back there?

Wilson *his face the mask of a perfect butler*  No, Commander. I don't wish to go back.  And I am sorry, I have no idea where she got the name from.  She must have been snooping around, Commander.

Portsmith *looks very suspiciously after him, then she goes to change her uniform and walks to the surveillance room to locate Crick... er Netta.  At least that was a real human name.  She can't have left the premises, because all the castle doors and windows are locked as usual.  Jack's kid ... He's not very much into brats ... Mustn't tell him if he shows up ... *

 

In the meadow:

 

Catharine *as the Goddess has faded away*  She is within you, but if you ever need advise from her, come to this place and offer a silver coin to the spring.  Now you have to go home before you catch a cold.  You are still a mortal.  Rise up on your wings and fly ... You can be at my son's house for a while.  Don't worry about him, he is alive and well, but let him mend his broken heart.  There is someone waiting for you, Ava.  A man who loves you and who needs you.  *and she starts slowly to swirl, rising up, fading, becoming invisible, but still for a while Ava can hear her voice humming*

 

Ava *listening to Catharine's voice fade away she finally arrives back at Ichy's and decides to put every thing way back into the chest.  Ava starts to think who is the man that is waiting for her if it isn't Ichy then who.  No way on this earth is it Don she wont return to him now that she is free. There is no other man she can think off unless he is in her  future waiting for her. Ava sighs and starts to decide what she is going to do with her life after a while she starts to shiver so Ava puts on her gown that the Goddess gave to her it is white and gold it fits perfectly her cape looks perfect with it. Ava immediately warms up she feels pretty damn good for once.*

 

At Chateau Blanchefort:

 

Netta *having run from the small dining room after yelling at Portsmith, keeps running blindly through the house – past suits of armour, statues, busts, rooms filled with books and maps, antique globes, one room with a billiard table – sometimes springing across deep plush Persian carpets, sometimes sliding a little on gleaming parquet floors.  She keeps going until she’s satisfied that she’s at an exact opposite end of the castle from Portsmith, and she stumbles into a room with a huge window that runs nearly the length of a wall, with a beautiful view of the castle’s grounds.  She finally stops running, leaning against the large oak desk near the window, breathing heavily.  Once she catches her breath, she looks around the room with interest – she’s never seen so many books in one place.  She removes her hand from the desk where she’d been leaning, wipes it on her jacket as she sees that the desk is covered with a thick layer of dust.  She feels tears stinging her eyes, and she forces them back stubbornly.  She wanders slowly around the room, gazing at the books, a handsome globe, another bookcase with glass doors on it that contains some very old books and a few odd figurines, some of stone, some of a ceramic or porcelain.  She jumps slightly as she hears a tapping at the large window; she turns, and her eyes widen in amazement*  M-Manouche!  *she runs to the window, leans down, pushes it up*

 

Manouche *smiling*  Jus’ wanted t’ check on ye, luv.  *she glances past Netta, looking in the room*  So, ye've discovered Corso's old office!  Where’s th’ Commander, then?

 

Netta *looks a little embarrassed*  Sh-she’s in one o’ them little dining rooms.  Not the big one with all th’ tapestries, but a smaller one.  *she swallows*  I – I lost my temper with her …

 

Manouche *waves a hand*  No worries, it’s easy t’ do with ‘er!  Goes with th’ territory, as it were.  *pauses*  Y’know, ye don’t ‘ave t’ stay ‘ere if ye’ve had enough.  Yer prob’ly wonderin’ why I sent ye ‘ere.  *shrugs*  It’s ‘cause I thought it’d be a good challenge fer both o’ ye, savvy?  *looks at her carefully*  Vice Mayor Lisa wanted one o' th' children sent 'ere, an' I were afraid th' Commander would break th' spirit o' one of th' others.  Also ... I needed t’ do somethin’ to shake ye outta yer ennui.  I were worried ‘bout ye, th’ way ye kept t’ yerself, not mixin’ with th’ other children.  I know yer not one fer a lotta fussin’, so I thought … *her voice trails off as she watches Netta’s face; she shakes her head regretfully*  Apologies, luv, per’aps I thought wrong.  Ye look so unhappy.  Would ye like t’ come back to th’ house with me?

 

Netta *turns back toward the doorway of the office, looks back at Manouche*  No.  I wanna stay.  *her answer seems to surprise even her, and she gets a funny expression on her face*

 

Manouche *raises her eyebrows, laughs*  Ye do!  Are ye sure?  Why, if ye don’t mind me askin’?

 

Netta:  I … I dunno.  I … I guess I’m not unhappy 'cause I'm here, I'm unhappy ‘cause I feel like she beat me.  I shouldn’t a got mad the way I did.  *looks down sheepishly*  I even broke a plate … Wedgewood …

 

Manouche *laughs again*  Blimey, th’ Commander’s got dishes t’ spare.  I wouldn’t fret over that’un.  I’m sure she’d never use somethin’ irreplaceable with a child about.

 

Netta:  Well, anyway, I … I don’t wanna leave just ‘cause she won this round.  *looks up at Manouche, grins*  I’ll get her next time.  I wanna make her … respect me.  I wanna stay, unless she sends me back.

 

Manouche *studies her, finally nods*  As ye wish, luv.  I’m right proud o’ ye, y’know that?  *she holds her arms out, Netta comes closer, they embrace*  If ye change yer mind, get word t’ us, an’ we’ll take care o’ everythin’, no questions asked.  *looks at her admiringly, then remembers something*  Blast, I almost fergot … I ‘ave somethin’ fer ye.  *she reaches in a pocket, pulls out a necklace with a stone on the end*  This is a black Obsidian, savvy?  In crystal language, it’s used fer groundin’.  It were given t’ me a long time ago by a mate, an’ I want ye to ‘ave it now.  It ain’t priceless, but it’s a nice lil’ reminder when ye feel yer at yer wit’s end.  *she unclasps it, Netta leans closer, she clasps it around the girl’s neck*  That looks grand on ye.

 

Netta *looks at it, her eyes shining*  It’s lovely … are you sure y’ want me to have it?

 

Manouche *nods, looking at it approvingly*  Aye.  It’s where it belongs, I’d say.  *she smiles as Netta impulsively throws her arms around her neck and hugs her again; she clears her throat*  Right, well, ye’d best get back into th’ fray, in a manner o’ speakin’.  *she pushes a lock of hair back from the girl’s face*  An’ I’d best make meself scarce.  I don’t know if ye’ve learned this yet or not, but th’ Commander ain’t too fond o’ me.

 

Netta *scoffs*  Her loss.  *she looks at the stone again before tucking it inside her shirt*  Thank you, Manouche.  *she grins at her, turns quickly, runs out of the room*

 

Manouche *watches her go, smiles, murmurs quietly*  Steady on, Netta Sparrow.  *she slides the window back down, turns, leaves the castle grounds*

 

At the meadow:

 

The Goddess behind Ava *speaks*  Never be again embarrassed about your body, Ava.  You can turn around and come to me now.  *When Ava turns around, she can see a tall woman clad in a shimmering white gown.  Her skin is pale, her lips are red and her hair is golden.  She has a white silken gown alike her own that she offers to Ava.*  You are free from your old life, and as a symbol foe the rebirth you have experienced, take this gown.  Build yourself a new life and build yourself a new home.  Take my blessing with you.  Don't worship me but give me what is due to me.  I will bestow my gift of healing and rebirth to you.  Use it wisely.  I have the gift of life and death and I hold all mankind on my palm.  It is I who cut the strings of life when the time is due.  I am the White Goddess, and I have gone by many names.  I am the inconstant ever-changing moon.  And now, when you are child of the moon, I will bestow a new name for you.  From now on you will be Ava Maria Le Fay.  Bear your name with pride.

 

Ava *in awe of the Goddess she takes the gown and makes her way out of the spring*  Thank you Goddess thank you so very much. I will build myself a new home I shall help people in any way that I can.  *looks at Catharine and smiles at her she turns around again to look at the Goddess* Thank you again. *Ava feels so free she is no longer bothered about being naked she quite enjoys it now. She begins to think at her name Ava Le Fay it has a certain ring to it she likes it. Ava thinks for one last time about her past life she no longer feels the pain from it she can only see the pictures. She thinks of the future she does not know what it holds but she has a good feeling about it. Ava is very proud of herself that she has finally let go this is all she ever wanted to be free.*

 

At the Shark’s Tooth:

 

Sands *sits by the bar with a drink in front of him and a frown on his face; everything has gone wrong.  Why does everything always go wrong?  Women!  That’s the answer.  Stay away from women and life might actually work out for a change.  He finishes his drink and waves over Spinky*  Let me get a refill …

 

Spinky *takes the tequila bottle and refills the glass, places it in front of Sands.  Being a bit bored as the place is empty this time of day takes the chance*  Somethin’ troubling you, mate?

 

Sands *coldly*  I’m here to drink, not strike up a conversation.  In fact, just leave the bottle.  *Spinky decides it’s wise not to argue and places the bottle on the counter.*

 

At Chateau Blanchefort:

 

Donnie *decides to go talk to Portsmith about returning to Security while Grace is resting.  He’s not particularly looking forward to the conversation as he is certain Portsmith will automatically assume that he’s doing it because he’s tired of life with a pirate.  And she will without a doubt gloat.  He makes his way to the Chateau and knocks on the door.*

 

Wilson *opens the door, again with a ferret hanging in his hand, the animal trying to snap at him with small sharp teeth, and a towel in his other, but otherwise he is immaculate as ever*  Nice to see you, Mr. Brasco.  The Commander will be seeing you in a minute.  Please wait for her at in the Grecian Room.  *And he leads Donnie through the Great Hall to a room looking like a Greek Temple, complete with the famous Elgin Marbles and an atrium, a shallow pool filled with water.  Then he leaves to report to the Commander of the guest*

 

Donnie *wanders around the room while waiting; the commander definitely goes all the way when she's set her mind on a decorating theme.  While waiting he also contemplates what to say hoping that she won't be too difficult.  He's not quite sure if she'll agree to it straight away or if she'll be stubborn about it.  He reminds himself that this is a job-interview of sorts and that insulting the Commander at her own home could very well lead to some time in the dungeon.*

 

Portsmith *in a new uniform of the leather type she's taken a fancy to lately, with lots of cleavage, a very short miniskirt, fishnet stockings and high-heeled sharp-nosed boots*  What a surprise, Donnie.  And what brings you here?  *she looks at him sharply straight into his eyes*  Trouble with pirates?  *pleased with herself, she sits down on a white leather sofa and motions him to do the same.*  Did you know that Lord Elgin brought these marbles from Greece to England?  And now they are here.  They are invaluable, Donnie.

 

Donnie *glances at the invaluable marbles; nods*  Very impressive.  *Looks at the Commander ignoring the uniform; resists the temptation to roll his eyes*  No, no trouble with pirates.  *Forces a friendly smile*  I am here to ask for a job ... at Security.  *Clears his throat*  After all, Abberline hardly works and Hanson is still very inexperienced.  *Holds up a hand*  It's not a criticism, just an observation.  I thought you might be in need of someone more experienced to take some of the load off Sergeant Godley.

 

Portsmith *slowly*  Ah, you are wanting to join the Security again?  Funny that you managed to mention Inspector Abberline ... Yes, we do need able officers, and in fact *she lifts her legs on the marble table and admires her boots for a while, with a smug smile*  Hanson is taking care of an investigation that may prove to be too much for him.  But how it is with your loyalty, Donnie?  And what is the real reason for wanting to join?

 

Donnie *frowns* Why is it funny that I mentioned Abberline?  The rumours are all over town.  Personally, I don't believe that he would ever take a bribe, but I know that such things require proper investigation. And I also know that he is very involved with his family.  *Searches for the words*  My loyalties ... well, I intend to serve Deppville to the best of my abilities.  As I did before.  *Hesitates*  Obviously, it'll be a conflict of interest if you at some point want me to investigate Grace as she's my wife, but I won't be the only officer on the staff.  And at the moment, she certainly won't do anything to rise your suspicions.  She's at the hospital.  You've probably already heard of the shooting outside Chez Roux.  My reasons for wanting to come back are simple.  While helping a friend, I realized that I miss investigating.  It's what I was trained to do, after all.

 

Portsmith:  So you have heard about the rumours too?  One thing that I have learned during my long and illustrious career, that there rarely is smoke without a fire.  And you will see that there's plenty of other things that he has been occupied with besides his family ... Anyway, you won't have a conflict with your allegiances, Grace is not on my list - now.  But you have to keep in mind that she is a pirate, and it means that she will stir up trouble some day.  But, as my principles are all for equality, we are investigating the case of her shooting *she adds in her mind: and why the bloody shooter was such a poor shot and missed the bloody pirate wench ...*  Sergeant Godley is in charge. And you, you can brush up your skills with the case assigned to Hanson.  All the files are at the Office.  Well, Donnie, it is nice to have you back, but remember, I am keeping an eye on you.

 

Donnie *decides to ignore the comment about Grace being bound to stir up at trouble at some point, instead smiles politely and stands up.  He shakes hands with Portsmith*  Thank you.  I will check in at the office tomorrow morning.  *Turns to leave.*

 

At the park:

 

*It has been a day since Ava spoke to the Goddess Ava feels good inside although some things still bother her greatly.  She contemplates whether to take Catharine's advice and go to the meadow.  While everyone walks on by she stares at the ground, sits on the park bench watching the feet go by. She thinks silently to herself; she can hear the Goddess voice going around her head all the words which where spoken to her. She tries her hardest to think of the man who is waiting for her but with no prevail she finally gives up.  However a familiar voice from behind the bench begins to talk to her*
 
George: Hello Ava. You know I remember a lifetime ago, when we were together I was on the run and you were free from trouble you were a free spirit. I remember those days when we spent the mornings watching the sunrise and the night watching the sun set together. I remember how much we where in love we talked for hours about what we were going to do once I was free no longer on the run. I thought you were the only woman in the world for me. And remember those nights we spent together alone only me and you the times you just wore my t-shirt you looked so beautiful you still do. And when you left for dinner only to come home telling me you were in love with some else. That was a good one Ava you remember that. And remember that time when you told me that you were pregnant and that it was his I knew it wasn’t. Well Ava, I still love you and I know you do to. *Ava has tears in her eyes and she is about to turn around to speak when George interrupts her* Please let me finish. I never stopped loving you and you know that. I know that you hurt but if you wish maybe I could help you ease the pain, maybe we could start again *she finally breaks down*. I know they both have hurt you so much I know you gave them both so much and they didn’t return any of it back. I’m not like them I want to give you so much love. Remember all those times we had together can you remember that smile you had we laughed so hard I miss those days. I finally realize what you were trying to tell me, so many years ago. I finally understand. You’re the best, Ava; I just wish I could have done more for you to make you see that you where making a mistake with him he had you under his spell. I just wish you would come back to me be with me. You know I miss you so much.

 

Ava: *stuttering* you…you still love me George don’t go please I don’t want to get hurt again.

 

George: Everything's gonna be okay, Ava. Don't be upset. I aint going any where with out you. That’s if you wanna let me in. *Georges moves from being behind the bench to sitting next to Ava. George holds Ava in his arms*

 

Ava: I do George I really do you know why I married him I was scared George I wasn’t thinking straight maybe it was the lies he told me. I was young, naïve and stupid George in my heart I knew I still loved you but when I found that out it was too late. You had gotten married and I was married, pregnant and scared Don offered me some sort of security. However that went out the window he tired to kill me.

 

George: Ava shh I know you don’t need to explain we all make mistakes that’s part of life. We both made some mistakes we paid for them but from those mistakes they brought us together. Ava can you remember what I used to call you.

 

Ava: *smiles* Yes I do George you used to call me…

 

George:  Babe

 

Ava: *Ava and George get closer her puts her hands on her face and deeply kisses her of course Ava returns the kiss. From that kiss something happens that Ava has never felt before it was like the light had lifted she knew from that moment on George was the one she was meant to be with* do you mean what you say

 

George: I really do Ava I truly love you I haven’t stopped loving you.

 

Ava: *looks into Georges eyes* I love you too *Ava kisses George again* George I am frightened

George: You don’t have to be any more im here I will protect you. Ava where are you living

Ava: I live at Ichy’s while he is away after he returns I have no where to go I will be homeless

George: *looks in Ava’s eyes* no you will not be homeless your home is with me by the beach just like we both have wanted. *Scratches his head* I mean we would need to decorate it but if it was the two of us it would be much better *George moves his long blonde hair out of his face and gives Ava a cheeky little grin. * And it would much more fun 

 

Ava: *throws her arms around George and holds him. Through her tears she pulls Georges face close* How could I be so blind to have let you go George you must forgive me I was a fool to leave you.

 

George: And I was a fool to let you go we can be fools together. *George jumps up from the bench*

 

Ava: Yes let’s be fools together we can laugh at the people who disagree with us.

 

George: well it’s settled then your coming home with me. *George proceeds to scoop Ava off the bench*

 

Ava: *laughs* George lets go home *she kisses George again and he starts walking but he stops*.  What’s wrong? Am I to heavy because I can walk?

 

George: *Laughs* No your not heavy your perfect I realised this is the first time I have seen you smile you have the most beautiful smile Ava has anyone told you that.

 

Ava: No George no one has ever told me that is it now *thinks for a moment* oh this is like that film where that captain of the ship scoops his girl up. *Ava thinks for a moment* I remember now George an officer and a gentle man. *She takes off his sunglasses and puts them on and she kisses him again* she had a hat I have your sunglasses baby.

 

George: *kisses Ava back* I could get used to this Ava

 

Ava: You best, because there is plenty where that came from *she puts her head on his chest to hear his heart beating. George’s arms feel so safe Ava finally knows what love feels like* George I love you.

 

George: I love you too.

 

At From Hell Court:

 

Don Juan *walks into the hideout, where Maryann is sulking in her usual fashion, a lost case she is. Not even the touch the World's Greatest Lover has brought her alive.  He takes a look at her.  It is time to move on.*  Maryann, I have come to the conclusion that hiding is not fitting for the World's Greatest Lover.  I will proudly step out as myself and anyone who is trying anything on me will have a taste of my sword.  *He takes his favorite outfit*  Is my hair all right, Maryann?  Don't you think it's too long?  I have to trim the mustache.

Maryann *looks at him with adoration in her watery eyes*  You are perfect, Don.

Don Juan:  Don't call me that.  From this moment on I am Don Juan.  Don Juan DeMarco, the dream of every woman.  *combs his hair, he fastens his mask and puts on the gloves.*  I am ready to meet the world.

Maryann:  And what about me?  Have you given up all the plans of vengeance?

Don Juan:  No, we started it and now it will roll on on its own.  As for you, you could take a look at my house and put it into order.  But I don't want it in the style it was before.  I want Mexican Romanticism.  *Maryann nods impressed though she has no idea what it is*  Fountains in the yard.  Lots of flowers.  Stained glass ... That sort of thing.  *as a final touch he puts on the scent no woman is able to resist*  I am ready.  *He opens the door and steps out, hearing the sound of guitars and castagnettes in his ears.  Nonchalantly, he takes a look at the first woman he meets, and smiles to himself as her knees start to buckle.  He blows a kiss at her and walks away from the dreary From
Hell Court*

 

At the beach:

 

*The moon has disappeared behind a cloud.  It became very dark now.  A cold breeze made Kaatje shiver.  She stood up from the sand, and wiped the tears from her eyes.  Maybe it was about time she started to prepare herself for the coming motherhood.  It seemed like the dad-to-be didn't want to get involved anymore*

Kaatje:  All men are liars, who only like their own little pleasures without accepting the consequences!  He promised me heaven!  He was strange, he was unique, and he was the most beautiful, fascinating
man I've ever had .. He told me he loved me, but they're all the same!  When they finally have their prey, they don't like it anymore!  *She takes a deep breath and laid her right hand on her swelling body.  Her eyes looked to the sky, where the cloud was gone and the moon was shining again.  At that same moment, she felt her unborn baby move for the first time.  It was like someone knocked softly against her hand:  Hey, you’re not alone, I'm here!  *She stops sobbing and smiles through her tears*  There you are, my little one!  Don't worry, schatje!  Mamma will take care of everything, with or without your dad.  I promise to take good care of you.  And now we go back to Chez Roux.  It's cold,
it's way past
midnight and your auntie Marijke will be worried. I shouldn't have yelled at her and must make it up with her.  *She turns around and starts walking ... and then she sees someone else on the beach.  A silhouette in the distance walked slowly to her ... *

 

At Chez Roux:

 

Godley *on the phone to Alphonse, at the office*  Yes, you are absolutely right, if you have something confidential to tell, the phone should not be used.  I will be there immediately.  *He shoves the most important papers in a folder and writes in bold letters over it 'Instruction Manual for Your New Cell Phone'.  It's a sure way of not getting Portsmith to look into it.  She's not one for instructions.  He takes his jacket and gun and walks out of the Office to Chez Roux, looking around and savoring the delicious scent of well-prepared food coming from the kitchen, noticing how hungry he is.  He takes a seat at a shady peaceful booth and orders himself some snacks - five croissants, a cinnamon roll, tea, jam, scones, sausages and a pudding for desert while waiting for Alphonse to appear*

 

Alphonse *comes down the stairs, glancing around nervously, sees Godley, approaches the booth*  Hello, Sergeant, thank you for meeting me here.  *he signals the waitress, orders a cup of coffee.  After she’s gone, he leans forward, lowers his voice*  I saw the whole thing … I saw the shooting, I saw the two men, I saw the car, and I can tell you where they ditched the car.  From there, they were heading toward the warehouse area, something about a laboratory.  I hope it’s not too late to catch them.  I also overheard them speaking of some company, SA Avionics, and something to do with … chemicals, and ... aliens.  *shakes his head, smiles nervously as the waitress brings his coffee*  I must admit, Sergeant, despite the brief time I’ve been in this little town, I’ve had enough of that warehouse area to last me a lifetime.

 

Godley:  So once again you were on the place.  *chuckles*  You indeed should join the forces, Corso.  *then he grows serious*  Yes, the warehouses, that's a good place for all kind of shady ongoings, detached from the city.  A company called SA Avionics recently bought a property there intending to build a hangar or something like that.  But there was no talk about a laboratory.  Say, how well did you see the driver?  Or the other man?  *sighs*  I will have to go to the warehouses again ... Maybe the shooting was somehow connected to Salome's murder.  *he starts to eat the croissant after he has finished his sausages*  Marvellous food, don't you want anything?

 

Alphonse *nods*  Yes, I’m sure … I’m not very hungry at the moment.  I got a good look at both men when they ditched the car.  They took it to the cliffs and pushed it into the sea.  I’m quite certain I could identify them in a lineup.  I’d like to maintain my anonymity, of course.  *scratches his head*  I’ve never considered joining a police force, but I do seem to be thrown into the business from time to time, don’t I?  *he watches Godley eat ravenously, then adds*  Do you really think there could be a connection between this and Miss Salome?

 

Godley:  One never knows, you have to make lots of assumptions in this profession.  Who knows.  Can you describe the men somehow?  Some details?  They don't seem like cold-blooded professionals to me the way they acted.  *Godley resumes his eating and finishes the cinnamon roll.*  Time for some field work now.  You want to come with in case something could be found?  *he leans backward in his creaking chair.*  There' s nothing like a good snack ...

 

Alphonse:  Yes sir.  *finishes his coffee*  Y’know … I think I will come with you.  Frankly, Sergeant, I feel safer with you, you seem to be the only authority in this town who won’t put up with any nonsense.  *shrugs*  I don’t believe the two men saw me, so I imagine I’m as safe going with you to the crime scene as I would be anywhere else.  I’m not keen on being alone right now.  I get the feeling they don't hold human life as very valuable, the way they started shooting out the window of the car, and so purposefully, too.  *shudders*  Yes, I’ll accompany you.  *pauses*  Oh, by the way … there’s another stunning redhead in town.  I only mention it because I thought of her just now with all this talk about Salome.  She looks very much like her.  At first I thought it was Miss DeeDee, but then I realized my mistake.  *grins self-mockingly*  I suppose I am starting to think like a policeman, to mention such a detail to you.

 

Godley:  You are welcome to accompany me.  I am not just used to doing my work alone.  Before, Inspector Abberline and I shared the work, and we worked good together, but nowadays ... Well, I suppose the most important thing is that he got what he has been yearning after .... *after a thoughtful pause*  You are starting to think like a cop, dear Alphonse.  Even small details can have importance.  Another redhead in town, you say?  There was this - this - sl.. excuse, me, a nurse who was very like Salome.  I hope it isn't her.  *he looks at Alphonse*  But you don't look like a cop at all, which is fortunate for me.  Everybody knows me, and they are wary and hide themselves like rats ... When I come with you to the warehouses, everyone who sees us together guesses that I am on Salome's case.  After all, it was you who discovered the body.  *he rises up*  Are you ready?

 

Alphonse *nods, stands up*  Yes, lead the way.  Who knows, perhaps I can find out some information that you wouldn’t be able to find yourself, with everyone on their guard around you.  I suppose it’s a mixed blessing that I so closely resemble my cousin.  However, I do hope I don’t run into anymore of his romantic conquests … I could do without being slapped again.  *places some money on the table, follows Godley*

 

At the beach:

 

Marijke *pretty upset after Kaatje ran away.  She couldn't leave Chez Roux until closing time, and the minutes seemed to drag to that closing time.  After the last guest was gone, she took her coat and ran out of the door.  Now ... where must she look for her sister?  Marijke had no idea, but she couldn't just go to back to Chez Roux like nothing had happened.  She shivers as she walks to the beach. The beach is her favourite place when she needs to relax or think about things.  It was an unusual chilly night for this time of year.  Kaatje was mad to run into the night with nothing more than that worn out, thin raincoat and a summer dress that was even more worn-out than that coat with the tigerskin print.  It was about time that woman bought a set of maternity clothes ... or borrow something from her, because Kaatje was much thinner than Marijke and that growing pregnancy-belly almost burst out of her clothes ...  Slowly she continues to the beach, sees someone sitting in the sand.  The moonlight just strong enough to shine on that very familiar raincoat, and the wind plays with the peroxyde blond hair.  Kaatje!  Marijke hesitates*  What shall I do now?  Maybe she is still upset and doesn't want to see me.  Now I know she's here, and she's a big girl ... Maybe she tries to figure out things and doesn't need me now.  *she stops walking.*  On the other hand ... Maybe she feels miserable and cold.  I must tell her I forgive her and I won't ask her about the baby’s father anymore.  I will bring her to the bathroom for a nice warm bath, give her warm milk with honey and a few drops of valerian tincture, and tell her everything is okay.  I can't leave her there just like that!  *A cloud had dimmed the moon and the night suddenly seemed even colder, even fiendish.  In the distance, near the horizon, thicker clouds pack and produce lightning.  Still miles and miles away, not enough to replace the hidden moonlight.  Marijke is still in doubt and thinking about what to do*  Should I take her with me, or give her some time to pack herself together?

*A wind gust from sea makes her shiver.  No, it was better for her and that unborn child to take her back to Chez Roux!  There was bad weather coming, Marijke finally made up her mind.  A bit unsure in the dark, she tries to walk to her sister.  Step by step, like a blind person.  Ahh, the moon again!  Marijke sees she’s walked a bit in the wrong direction.  Strange what complete darkness can do with someone's feeling for directions!  She has no compass in her head!  She sees Kaatje, now standing, her hand on her growing belly, her face to the moon.*

Marijke:  Kaatje, come with me!  *she tries to draw Kaatje’s attention, but her words are taken away by another wind gust and never reach Kaatje's ears.  Then Marijke stands still, like frozen.  From another direction, someone else approaches.  Quickly she drops herself to the ground.  Her instinct tells her that she'd better not show herself now!*

 

At Deppville Community College:

 

Manouche *strolling through the campus, holding a slip of paper, reading addresses and names on buildings and entryways, finally finds the office she’s looking for:  Professor Calvin McPherson, Physiology.  The door is ajar, so she steps in, looks around, sees an extremely good-looking man reading from a stack of papers on his desk*  Ahh, Professor McPherson?

 

McPherson *looks up*  Ah, you must be Mrs. Blake.  You wanted to see me?  *he stands up, waves toward the chair in front of his desk*  Please, sit down.  Would you like anything, coffee, tea …

 

Manouche *takes the chair*  Aye, coffee if ye ‘ave it.  *he leaves the office, soon returns with two coffee cups, hands her one.*  Cheers, mate—er, I mean, thank ye, sir.

 

McPherson *sits down at his desk, looks at her*  Now, what can I do for you?  You’re here on behalf of some friends, is that correct?

 

Manouche *nods*  I were wonderin’ if ye could suggest a counselor, er a therapist, of sorts.  It’s somewhat surprisin’ to me that our fair town don’t ‘ave resources fer troubled minds … *grins*  If someone were t’ come ‘ere an’ establish such a business, they’d no doubt make a killin’.  There seem t’ be troubled minds a-plenty ‘round ‘ere.

 

McPherson:  It is curious that such a facility doesn’t exist here.  *shrugs*  As you know, my area of expertise is Physiology … but I believe I can recommend someone.  I have a couple of colleagues here at the school with backgrounds in Psychology.  *he removes his glasses, peers at her*  Are you sure this isn’t for you, Mrs. Blake?  There’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know.  Who are these “friends” of yours?

 

Manouche *sighs*  No, it ain’t me.  *she hesitates, then takes a folded magazine from her coat, a special edition of the Deppville Tattler.  She opens it to an article, hands it to the professor*  It’s them, mate.  I’m right worried about ‘em.

 

McPherson *raises his eyebrows, looks at the article:  WONKAS WALLOP WASTREL WAG!  The Dark Chocolate Side of Deppville’s Former Model Citizens*  Ah!  Oh yes, I remember this.  *looks at her*  You’re looking for someone to counsel Mr. and Mrs. Wonka?

 

Manouche *nods*  Aye.  Y’see, I known ‘em fer quite some time now, they’re like me brother an’ sister, though not by blood, but we’re every bit as close.  I’ve always known ‘em to ‘ave a volatile side, but it were always tempered in th’ past with reasonin’, an’ the ability t’ carefully choose their battles, that sorta thing.  But as of late, there’s been a string o’ incidents, one after another … an’ I’m becomin’ increasin’ly worried, not only fer their general mental health, but also fer Madame—er, Mrs. Wonka.  She’s expectin’ again.  I’ve been warnin’ ‘er, but she ain’t listenin’ to me.  An’ whereas I never would tell anyone t’ swallow their anger an’ not clear it outta th’ system—

 

McPherson *finishes for her*  You fear it’s becoming too much of a habit for them, that they tend to lose their tempers and ask questions later.  You want them to be reminded how to resolve issues in a more constructive manner, or to recognize when walking away from a conflict is the optimal course of action.

 

Manouche:  On th’ nose, mate.  There’s also th’ matter of a potential detrimental influence on their children, savvy?  I’d hate t’ see th’ kiddies become playground bullies.  They need t’ learn that there’s nothin’ amiss with expressin’ anger, but sometimes control is fer th’ best.

 

McPherson *closes the magazine, hands it back to her, nodding*  I understand, Mrs. Blake.  And I think I know someone who can help the Wonkas.  He teaches psychology here at the college, and he’s had some experience working with singles and couples in anger management therapy.  *he presses a button on his phone, speaks to a receptionist*  Bon Bon!  Please contact Professor LeRoi, have him come to my office when he has a moment.  *looks at Manouche*  Nice girl out there at the front desk, but between you and me, she has a terrible sense of style.

 

Manouche *smothers a grin, then turns to look as a very handsome young man enters the office*  Blimey, that’s service, innit?

 

LeRoi *to McPherson*  You sent for me, Cal?

 

McPherson:  Yes.  *motions toward Manouche*  This is Mrs. Blake, she’s looking for a counsellor to help a young married couple.  They seem to be having a little trouble with constructive anger management.  Mrs. Blake, may I introduce Sigmund LeRoi, our Professor of Psychology.

 

LeRoi *looks at Manouche, beams as he shakes her hand*  Oh, splendid!  Sometimes I really miss private practice.  I’ve thought about starting my own business, there doesn’t seem to be any such thing here.  Do you think there would be much of a call for my services, Mrs. Blake?

 

Manouche *thinks of the Deppville citizenry, grins*  Luv, ye may find yerself swamped, as it were.  Be careful what ye wish fer.  *she shows LeRoi the magazine article*  I want t’ help me mates th’ Wonkas.  Do ye think ye could do it?  I’ll cover all expenses.  I were thinkin’ I’d send ye straight to th’ factory, th’ sooner th’ better.  *she pulls out an envelope, hands it to him*  ‘Ere’s a letter ye can present to ‘em, so they’ll know I sent ye with all me love an’ concern, an’ hopes that together we can help ‘em return to th’ somewhat more easygoin’ Wonkas what appear to ‘ave been cast aside as of late.  *she looks at him a little doubtfully*  Do we ‘ave an accord?  Are ye comfortable with th’ situation?

 

LeRoi *reads the article, nodding, then takes the letter from her, smiles reassuringly*  Mrs. Blake, I would be honoured to try to help.  Now I know you’re concerned that I’m a bit young.  It’s true, I am.  But that doesn’t mean I’m not highly experienced and up to the challenge.  I received my degree early, and I have been working a combination of private practice and teaching since graduating magna cum laude.  I assure you, I’ll do my very best for your friends.

 

Manouche *smiles, impressed with his dignified response*  Right, well, that makes me feel better about it all.  *nods toward the picture of Madame kicking Willy’s rival in the stomach*  They really are sweet people, I assure ye, an’ generous to a fault.  They’ve always ‘ad their tempers, but they used t’ balance one another out.  I dunno, per’aps th’ pressure o’ big business has been gettin’ to ‘em.  But we can’t ‘ave Madame behavin’ that way, she’ll hurt th’ baby.  She already risked it once, ye’d think she’d ‘ave learned from that.  *stands up, turns to McPherson, holds out her hand*  It were a pleasure, mate, cheers, thanks a lot fer yer assist.

 

McPherson *shakes her hand*  My pleasure, Mrs. Blake.  And don’t let Mr. LeRoi’s youth fool you.  I guarantee he’s a longtime respected member of the mental health community.  He has my complete recommendation.

 

Manouche:  Right.  *to LeRoi, smiles*  C’mon, mate, me car’s out front, I’ll give ye a lift to th’ factory.

 

LeRoi *nods soberly, then he looks at her quickly*  Wait a minute … is that your Aston-Martin out there??  COOOL!!  Let’s go!!  *he rushes eagerly out the door.  Manouche turns to McPherson, arches an eyebrow.  McPherson shrugs; she rolls her eyes, follows LeRoi out the door*

 

At the hospital:

 

Donnie *returns to the hospital after talking to Portsmith.  When he enters Grace’s room, he finds that she’s awake again and sitting up reading a book.  Kisses her on the cheek*  Hi …

 

Grace *closes the book and puts it down*  Hello luv.  How did it go?  Did ye get yer ol’ job back?

 

Donnie *sits down on the edge of the bed; nods*  That I did … I start tomorrow.  *With concern*  Do you mind being here alone?  If you need me here, I’ll just wait a few days to start.

 

Grace:  Not te worry, luv.  I’ll be fine.  *Grins*  I ‘ave all them fine doctors te talk te iffen I get bored.

 

Donnie *reproachfully*  Don’t tease!

 

Grace *laughs*  Sorry. I promise I’ll be on me best behaviour …an’ hopefully I won’t ‘ave te be here fer much longer.  *Smiles*  I’m thinkin’ that when I’m all healed up, I want te take a trip on the Brave.  I haven’t been out fer a long time an’ a bit o’ sea air will do me good, I reckon.  Would ye mind if I skipped town fer a bit?

 

Donnie *frowns*  For how long?

 

Grace *shrugs*  I dunno … not too long.  Jus’ a little trip.

 

Donnie *reluctantly*  I suppose that will be alright.  But you have to promise me that you’ll wait till you’re fully recovered.  Sea air might be good, but stuck on a ship if you’re not well is not good.

 

Grace:  Aye, I promise.

 

Donnie *smiles*  Good girl.

 

At the Security office:

 

Hanson *opens the thick folder very carefully.  This is going to be his first big case under Commander Portsmith.  He's prepared to show her that he is a very competent officer despite his youth, so he was not a little annoyed when Portsmith called him and told him that Donnie is in charge of the case and he, Hanson, is assisting.  That seems unfair to him ... He sighs and lifts the first bunch of papers onto his desk and starts to read.  After the first two pages he's suddenly very grateful that Brasco is the one in charge of this investigation and not him.  He reads more, and he takes out the photos and looks at them slowly.  They all are depicting Inspector Abberline in very condemning situations.  Donnie will be the one who contacts the Inspector ... He slams shut the folder and starts to wait for Donnie Brasco to appear.  Maybe he can still talk himself out of this*

 

At the DeMarcos’ house:

 

Don Juan the World's Greatest Lover *stands in the doorway looking at his house, it is completely devastated.  He knows that Ava flipped, but he never could imagine that she could inflict so much damage.  All his belongings are gone, to the last shred.  Even his razor and his toothbrush have disappeared.  The greatest surprise waits him in the bedroom - the large bed has disappeared too, and Ava's own clothes are shredded to pieces.  She must have become raving mad.  He will have no problem to persuade Portsmith to drop all the charges against him and help him with getting the custody of the twins.  He looks at himself in the broken mirror and smiles warmly at his own reflection, but his words don't match his expression.*  You stupid stupid wench ...

Maryann *timidly, peeks in.  She has been cleaning up all the day*  I am sorry, Don, but this is just a mess ...

Don Juan:  Don Juan, Maryann, it's Don Juan.  Is there anywhere where I can sleep tonight?  I am not returning to that shabby hideout again.  You can return in the morning.  Thank you, Maryann, that's all for today.

Maryann *nods, backs out.  She gives a finishing touch to the living room where she has managed to drag a sofa from the attic.  She has done her best to please Don, and now she's in seventh heaven - he thanked her!  She smoothes the covers with a loving touch before she leaves to spend her night at the hideout.*

 

At the beach:

 

*A thin, transparant cloud covered the moon again. It was impossible to see who that other person was, but Marijke saw that person walking to Kaatje, and Kaatje seemed to recognize that person. The wind was swelling and took more and more noise from the sea to her ears. In the distance, thunder rolled. The first raindrops fell. The storm was coming into their direction, and it was coming fast!*

"...run for shelter! ...bad weather!" Kaatje shouted something to the third person. The person said something back. It was a male voice, and Marijke heard that voice before, but the wind and the sound of the sea made it too hard to recognize it.

In the last bit of moonlight, Marijke saw them going away. Kaatje, fighting against the windgusts, and the man. Kaatje had layed her hand on his arm, like she was afraid that she would fall... or he would run away, perhaps?

Lightning again, almost immediately followed by loud thunder.

"I must go now... I must think about my own safety in this weather...!" Marijke thought. "Run, back to Chez Roux!"

When she closed the door behind her, she tried to remember what she saw from the stranger. The fading moonlight only showed her a silhouette.  The voice was hard to recognize due to the noise of the approaching storm and the sea. But there was one important thing that Marijke noticed: the man never raised his voice. Not once. Kaatje had shouted to him that there was bad weather coming, and he answered calmly.

And there was something else: when the lightning was so near, she could have seen his face, but the wind blew the hair in his face so she couldn't see that face. That means that the man had no short hair, and he was very "in control" in stressful situation (or thinks he was in control), enough to keep his voice down when others were speaking loud.

Maybe this man was the father of the baby?

Marijke went to the bar and poured herself a good Berenburg, a strong liquor with herbs and spices (not everybody in Deppville appreciates it).

"Okay," she said to herself. "that means: it was absolutely NOT Raoul. Thank goodness! And NOT that Spencer! But also NOT Captain Jack, because I would have recognized those dreadlocks from a distance with less light! And defenitely NOT Edward Scissorhands, because those hands would
have attracted the lightning...! But what person could it have been then? Someone with longer hair..."

She took a sip of her Berenburg and continued: "Mort? Maybe. But he always screams RAAH RAAH! when he is stressed. Tony? Well, he is the biggest screamer in town! Abberline? No, I don't think so..."  Marijke emptied her glass and decided to go to bed. She was very tired.

"I must make a list with people with shoulder-long hair, who can controll their voice and don't scream. Maybe then I can find out who the father is! But first I need a very good sleep...! Kaatje is with someone and has found shelter, she is save for the weather. I am so tired and I have a feeling the next weeks will be very intense for us all. Better sleep now, tomorrow is a new day!"

 

At the Wonkas’ factory:

 

LeRoi *climbs out of the Aston Martin as Manouche pulls up in front of the factory; leans in, speaks to her*  Thank you, Mrs. Blake.  And … *grins* … thanks for letting me drive part way.

 

Manouche *arches a brow*  Ye could’ve driven more if ye hadn’t gotten pulled over fer speedin’, luv.  We’ll try again another time.  *nods toward the factory*  Best o’ luck to ye, an’ much obliged.  *she smiles, pulls away, heads back to Rartigillichal*

 

LeRoy *waves, then turns, faces the factory, staring at its façade, impressed.  He approaches the huge entryway door, rings bell, waits for a response*

 

Willy: *comes to the door, opening it only slightly for fear of reporters.  He sees a young man and arches a brow at him.  His black eye appears dark on his face*  Yea?

 

Madame: *behind him, pushes him aside a little* Willy, you shouldn't be showing that eye.  *sees LeRoi* Can I help you?  How did you get in here?  Are you a reporter?

 

LeRoi:  Oh, no, ma’am.  *smiles kindly*  I’m … I'm Professor Sigmund LeRoi, I come from the Community College.  *he pulls the envelope from his coat*  Mrs. Blake sent me.  She said to give you this.  *he hands her the envelope with Manouche’s letter:*

 

My dearest brother and sister,

 

This gentleman was recommended by Professor McPherson of the Community College.  I hope you’ll forgive me for stepping in so abruptly, perhaps you’ll say it’s none of my business.  But I’ve been so worried about both of you, especially when I continue to read about your altercations in public.  I’m even more worried given Madame’s condition; you already nearly lost the baby once, that should’ve been sufficient warning for you.  I’ve tried to advise you both repeatedly, to no avail; therefore, as your loving sister, friend, godmother to William and midwife – and because I seem to be unable to get through to you – I’m taking stronger measures.

 

Professor McPherson assures me that this man is a distinguished healthcare professional, and his expertise is anger management.  I can already see brother Willy turning up his nose; don’t, mate.  I strongly urge you both to have a bash at this, give it your best shot.  I know the two of you can pull yourselves together, return to your usual class act.  Everyone goes a bit mad at times, there's no shame in that; but now's the time to nip it in the bud, as it were.  Do it for those of us who love you, do it for your children, and do it for yourselves and each other.  And know that any steps I’ve taken without asking you first were initiated with the utmost loving concern.  I’ll talk to you soon, I hope everything goes well,

 

All my love, frère bien-aimés et soeur,

 

Manouche

xoxo

 

Willy *takes the letter and reads it, almost twice.*  How rude.  I see nothing wrong with us.  *he crumbles it up and throws it behind him.  Madame catches it and opens it*

 

Madame:  I don't know, Willy.  Manouche usually doesn't point it out like this. Maybe we do have a problem ....

 

Willy:  HA!  I laugh.  *Cole comes in screaming down the hallway*

 

Cole:  I WANT A REAL BLACK EYE LIKE DADDY!!!!!!!  *Madame watches Cole, then arches a brow at Willy*

 

Willy *watches Cole, sighs, then opens the door.*  Come in.

 

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