Episode 2.03 “The Days Ahead”
The night sky around Blackwell Grange seems extra dark to Rusty as he walks quickly through the woods behind Stables of Blackwell Grange. He stops at three flat, smooth rocks. He cautiously looks around him and then down at the flat rocks. He places his hand on the middle rock.
“Lachlan,” Rusty smiles, “I know I haven’t come to visit in a long time…”
Rusty is silent. He closes his eyes and allows a tear to roll off his cheek and into the grass.
“I’m sure by now you would have long since moved on from what you went through.” Rusty looks up, “You would have grown up to be so strong, so handsome… I just wanted to be here again. I get a feeling that there is going to be some bad changes happening here soon.”
Rusty looks around in the dark, checking his surroundings in constant fear, “I’m so sorry, Lachlan.”
Rusty stands up and quickly runs off.
Inside Blackwell Grange, Mrs. Peacock sits on the edge of Professor Plum’s bed as he unlocks the hidden safe behind a picture over his desk.
“I’m happy to see that despite everything you are still open to negotiate business.” Mrs. Peacock says with a smile
“This is dangerous stuff.” Professor Plum says, “One drop will render the consumer sick. Two drops and they are unconscious. Three…”
“I get what happens after three.” Mrs. Peacock says
“I don’t think you do.” Professor Plum says gripping the bottle tightly, “Three is simple death. But if any more than three drops are consumed: a fast acting poison will course through the consumer’s body, causing them to bleed out of every orifice.”
Mrs. Peacock stands up from the bed, “I’ll keep that in mind, should there ever come a need for four drops.” She opens her hand for the bottle.
“I’m not giving you the whole bottle until you tell me why you need it and who you plan on using it on.” Professor Plum says
“Peter,” Mrs. Peacock stands up and goes over to his windows and looks out at the dusk landscape, “Oh, how ghastly! You have a clear view of the Boat House. Surely those naked statues get tiresome after a while.”
“Who are you planning on using it on?” asks Professor Plum, resting his eyes for a moment
“Before I tell you,” Mrs. Peacock stops and purses her lips, choosing her words carefully, “Let me point out that there is a closely guarded secret about your niece.”
“Melba?” Professor Plum says, “You better not have intentions of drugging Melba.”
“Your sister, Rose, isn’t Melba’s mother.” Mrs. Peacock takes a deep breath
“What?” Professor Plum says, “Then why is she here? Is that why Rose acts so cold to her?”
“That’s where it gets complicated. She’s actually still a Black, even though she isn’t Rose’s daughter.” Mrs. Peacock bites her lip
“That would explain Rose’s actions.” Professor Plum says, “How is she in this family.”
“She’s Hugh’s daughter.” Mrs. Peacock says
In his bedroom, Colonel Mustard sits with the window open. He fidgets nervously, trying to load bullets into his Shotgun. On his desk, his military regalia, ribbons, and medals are laid out. He places his monocle back in his eye as he finishes loading the Shotgun.
“She’ll never pull a knife to my throat.” Colonel Mustard says, “Why Lord Lavender would ever marry a cheap, gold-digging slag like her…”
“You really shouldn’t talk ill about someone under the same roof as you,” Lady Lavender stands in Colonel Mustard’s doorway
“How did you get in?” Colonel Mustard tries to point the Shotgun in her direction, but the barrel isn’t secured and falls forward with a pitiful swing. He stands with his incapacitated Shotgun, trying to remain tall and intimidating.
“The locks in this house are easy to pick,” Lady Lavender says, “Relax! I don’t have my perfume bottle, do I? Anyway, I need to ask you something.”
Colonel Mustard slams the Shotgun on his desk and grabs his army knife, which he had concealed in his boot, “Get out!”
“We must talk about those papers that were in the typewriter,” Lady Lavender holds up her hand “I was drunk.” Colonel Mustard says
“Yes, but that’s not the point I am getting at. I left them on the Study desk.” Lady Lavender says, “After the memorial I went to get them. Despite our encounter earlier, I figured you’d want them in your possession.”
“So you are here to return the papers?” Colonel Mustard looks down feeling shame
“That was my intention. However, someone walked off with them.” Lady Lavender says, crossing her arms with a sigh,
“Just hope whoever found them didn’t have their own secrets left for anyone to read. You might make a few enemies.”
“Don’t you think I don’t know that!” Colonel Mustard becomes enraged, “Goddammit! Who took them?”
“You should be more careful next time you have a drink.” Lady Lavender turns to exit
“If you don’t find those papers I will tell Mrs. Peacock you are here for felonious reasons.” Colonel Mustard threatens
“On what grounds?” Lady Lavender says, “I am reputable.”
“I guarantee that if Interpol dug into your life, you would be executed for espionage!” Colonel Mustard stabs the Knife into the edge of his desk, cracking the wood.
“Colonel, have you been drinking again?” Lady Lavender becomes frustrated, “You are missing the point. I am not your enemy. You need to consider the possibility that several very dangerous individuals might be plotting against you right now. What if Mrs. Peacock ends up with the papers? You referred to her as ‘a husband killing aristocrat who has had more men than a French prostitute’. If what you say about her killing her husbands is true, then you have a lot to worry about. She isn’t afraid to kill.”
“Seeing how I didn’t get a sober chance to read it… How thoroughly did you read it?” Colonel Mustard asks, choosing his words carefully, “How far did you get through?”
Lady Lavender enters Colonel Mustard’s room fully and shuts the door, “I found out that you are a struggling homosexual. You mentioned briefly how Mr. Green and his Uncle, Reverend Green are involved in their own dirty family-business, which involving money laundering and human trafficking. A bit sloppily, you wrote how Dr. Black has had sex with almost every woman at Blackwell Grange. We’ve already been over how you called Mrs. Peacock a husband killer. You said Mrs. White has been skimming the bankbooks and that Professor Plum conducted illegal medical experiments which ended the life of his wife. Miss Scarlet…”
“You can stop.” Colonel Mustards closes his eyes, “I’ve heard enough..”
“And now someone has heard too.” Lady Lavender says, “Think about that before you aim the Shotgun at me. I’m not your enemy.”
“You held a blade to my throat!” Colonel Mustard says grabbing the Shotgun from the desk
“Did I slice it into your windpipe?” asks Lady Lavender, “I could have sneaked into your room and finished you off this very night, instead I am here to warn you about your own mistakes.”
At his home, across town, Mr. Miles Meadow-Brook sits at the head of the Dining Room table. He has his briefcase open and paper-work strewn about everywhere.
“You would never believe the day I had!” A shrill voice echoes in another room as the door closes, “Connie just dropped me off about half an hour ago, but I saw Mrs. Prussian tending to her garden and simply had to see how she was doing.” The woman enters the Dining Room, ignoring the fact the Mr. Meadow-Brook is reading at the table, “Mrs. Prussian and her husband are having some marriage problems. She didn’t say much, but from what I got out of her it sounded like their love isn’t strong.” She continues on, “I suspect he’s found another woman. He’s probably committing adultery with one of those nurses down at the hospital. You know how doctors are! Once an attractive woman walks by, all the blood leaves their brains. It’s no wonder Hugh Black could never settle down. Doctor’s just seem to be untrustworthy when it comes to family.”
“Jane,” Mr. Meadow-Brook sets down his paper work and calmly takes off his glasses, “Can’t you see that I’m trying to read something?”
Jane Meadow-Brook stands up from the table, “I didn’t mean to bother you. I just figured you might have heard about Dr. Prussian and might shed some light on whether or not he is having the affair or not. It’s been driving me mad since the idea of him cheating entered my brain. I just have to know if it’s true or not. Suppose I dress myself up in a fine gown and put on a little show for him. I can find out if he’s the type of scoundrel that would take advantage of the humble wife of a successful lawyer.”
Mr. Meadow-Brook grabs several papers from his briefcase, “If you want gossip, take a look at these. I found them lying on Dr. Black’s desk. I have no idea what to do with these, but I figured I should hang onto them.”
Mrs. Meadow-Brook snatches them and begins to scan over the thin lines, “Mrs. Peacock, Mr. Green, Mrs. White, Professor Plum… this is all scandal written on the people that frequent Blackwell Grange.”
“Written by someone inside Blackwell Grange.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Surely it wasn’t written by Hugh. The police would have considered this evidence and there would be a lot more police work involved. This is new. It wasn’t there when Mrs. Peacock and her stepdaughter had a meeting with me earlier in the day.”
“Extraordinary!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook narrows her gaze as she keeps reading, “It was written by someone in love with Hugh Black. You can tell by the opening lines.”
“Perhaps Mrs. Peacock or Mrs. White?” asks Mr. Meadow-Brook
“Why would they write something about themselves?” Mrs. Meadow-Brook continues to read on, “It’s someone else. They are talking about Mr. Green and Reverend Green and their involvement in some kidnappings. How on earth did the author to this letter glean this information? Listen to this: ‘Ever since youth I loved him. Hugh even loved me back, despite his life-time of meaningless sex and lustful conquests. Real, true, unaltered love occurred between the two of us. I knew the emotion in my heart was one that I longed to hold there forever.’ Whoever is responsible for this writing should be praised. It’s like poetry!”
“Incriminating poetry,” Mr. Meadow-Brook opens his hand to take the papers back.
“Oh let me keep them for the night!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook begs, “You know how much I like a good gossip! Besides, I might be able to decipher who wrote the letter. I have always been good at solving those mystery novels.”
Mr. Meadow-Brook resumes to his paperwork.
“You know,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook turns to her husband again, “I don’t think I’ve been to Blackwell Grange in a long time. I can’t remember the last social event they held that we were invited to. We used to get so many invites to dinner parties and croquet games that we would cancel every other weekend just to catch up on our sleep. Remember that trip to Canada? I miss Beatrice Black a lot. She was the only member of the family that I think truly enjoyed having me around.”
“What about that psychic sister of Hugh’s?” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Didn’t the two of you get along?”
“Madame Rose?” Mrs. Meadow-Brook laughs, “No. She was always very bitter and rude. She would predict the most outlandish prophecies and claim that what she saw in her dreams were facts. She was dreadfully boring and not nearly as exciting as you’d expect a psychic to be. My mother had a friend who was a fortune teller and she was delightful to talk to. I thought she talked too much, however.”
Mr. Meadow-Brook mumbles to himself as he tries to resume reading the papers.
“Am I bothering you again?” asks Mrs. Meadow-Brook
“I’d really just like to get through this stack of papers before bed.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says
“You work too hard!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “You should retire. We could spend our days by the radio. I’ll start knitting again and you could start smoking a pipe. It would just be like my aunt and uncle from Germany. They used to sit there in their chairs all day…”
“Jane, please,” Mr. Meadow-Brook closes his eyes and rubs his forehead, “Another time. I need to finish this right now. Leave the papers. You can look over them in the morning. I just need to have them within reach in case something comes to mind.”
Mrs. Meadow-Brook nods slowly and drops the papers on the side of the table. She turns to leave the room, stopping to fix her hair in the mirror on her way out. As soon as she is gone, Mr. Meadow-Brook takes the papers she left and begins to read through them.
“Maybe I can afford to retire.” Mr. Meadow-Brook laughs to himself, “There is a high-marketed price to keep these types of secrets.”
The next morning, sunlight shines down on the freshly cut lawns of Blackwell Grange. The water on the lake sparkles and shines with the hopes and promises that it will be a great day. Several groups of people have begun to assemble around the grounds of the estate, despite how early it is. Rusty walks around the outside of the Boat House. He is carrying a Water Bucket. He sees Mr. Ash and Mrs. White setting up wooden tables in the Gazebo. He walks past the Tennis Courts and sets the Water Bucket down on the Terrace steps.
“Do you two need help?” asks Rusty
“Would you mind fetching some small rocks, Rusty?” Mrs. White calls out, “I need to keep the tablecloth from blowing away in the wind. I figure pinning the edges of the tablecloth down will be sufficient.”
Rusty begins to snatch small smooth rocks on his way to the Gazebo.
“Are you sure a Garden Party is a good way to honor Hugh?” ask Rusty, “We just had the memorial yesterday? Doesn’t this feel a little too chipper?”
“Everyone is in town for the first time in so many years,” Mr. Ash says, “Hugh would have loved to see everyone together having a good time.”
“Miss Peach is going to be helping me in the Kitchen today, assuming she is recovered fully.” Mrs. White says, “We are preparing an all-American lunch. I’m going to try my hand at her grandmother’s fried chicken recipe.”
“I’m glad everyone’s spirits are lifted.” Rusty says, lightening up a little, “Was Lord Gray comfortable with the sleeping arrangements we provided?”
“He found a way to alert me every single time I was about to sit down for a rest.” Mr. Ash rolls his eyes, “My legs are killing me. I never realized how helpful it was having Yvette around.”
“Until she went and murdered our employer…” Rusty sighs, grabbing a few more rocks.
“Stay off your feet, Reggie.” Mrs. White says, “I’ve got the tablecloth secured.”
“I’ve been thinking about putting a small cot in the pantry.” Mr. Ash jokes, “I could use the quick naps.”
“I’ll use it whenever you aren’t using it.” Rusty finishes collecting rocks
“Did you bring out the croquet?” Mrs. White turns to Mr. Ash
“I left the equipment outside the front of the Garage.” Mr. Ash says, “I wasn’t sure where the guests would prefer it to be set up.”
“Every other year we’ve put it between the Tennis Courts and the Garage.” Rusty motions to the empty spot of grass.”
“We used to put it between the Swimming Pool and Gate House, until the Fountain was added.” Mrs. White says
“Perhaps we could make use of the open space behind the Ballroom?” asks Mr. Ash, “The old Rose Garden is never really used anymore.”
“Mostly thorns and roots now,” Mrs. White nods
“The lake and trees do look lovely.” Rusty says, “That’s normally where Colonel Mustard shoots skeet anyway. I suppose I’ll set it up back there.”
“Is the swimming pool cleaned?” asks Mr. Ash, “There were leaves in it this morning.”
“I had Mr. Clay help Rusty with it before he and Nurse Silver left yesterday.” Mrs. White says
“Did Nurse Silver leave?” asks Mr. Ash “Miss Peach and Sir Benedict were feeling quite ill last night. I thought she decided to stay after Mr. Clay had left.”
“I thought I saw them both going off together.” Mrs. White says, “I’m not sure.”
“I could have sworn Nurse Silver was upstairs last night when I was checking on Lord Gray.” Mr. Ash says
“Nurse Silver is here.” Rusty says, “I saw her this morning.”
“How odd.” Mr. Ash says, “Sir Benedict hasn’t taken a turn for the worst, has he?”
“Nurse Silver seemed anxious.” Rusty says
“What about Miss Peach?” asks Mr. Ash, “You said she took ill?”
“Food poisoning,” Mrs. White frowns, “Or so she is telling everyone. Not one other person got sick from my cooking!”
“Unless Sir Benedict’s sudden illness is related to food poisoning as well?” Rusty shrugs. Mrs. White shoots him an angry look.
Outside at the Swimming Pool, Sir Benedict Black sits down on a chaise lounge as Nurse Silver drapes a plaid blanket over his lap. Mrs. Peacock strolls slowly towards them from the direction of the Kitchen.
“The bitch is coming.” Nurse Silver mutters to Sir Benedict as she pastes on a big smile for Mrs. Peacock, “Patricia, how are you this morning.”
“I’m doing wonderful, thank you.” Mrs. Peacock smiles, “I slept like a log. Mrs. White had to wake me.” She rubs her arms,
“It’s a bit chillier than I expected.”
“It’ll warm up,” Nurse Silver says
“It always warms up very quickly too.” Sir Benedict says reclining back into the chair, “Step out of the way, you are blocking the sun.”
Mrs. Peacock steps out of his way, “Is this how you plan to spend the garden party?”
“I was locked in an attic for a very long time.” Sir Benedict closes his eyes, “I need to work on my complexion. I need my image to appear strong. I look like I’m frail and dying.” He laughs gently, “That is no way the master of Blackwell Grange should look.”
“Master?” Mrs. Peacock snorts, louder than she realized
“Oh, hasn’t John mentioned?” asks Sir Benedict closes his eyes with ease, “Upon receiving his inheritance on his eighteenth birthday, he and I mutually agreed with Mr. Meadow-Brook that I will be taking the full inheritance. He will receive it once more upon my death, or his 30th birthday, whichever comes sooner.”
“My! That is some exciting news!” Mrs. Peacock smiles wide with tight teeth, “Goodness we will have to make that announcement at the party! Gosh, I’m certain everyone will be thrilled to the gills that you are going to be master of the Blackwell Grange once more!”
“Thrilled to the gills!” Nurse Silver smiles big, turning to Sir Benedict, “Are you sure you are going to be alright if I leave you here?”
“I’ll be fine.” Sir Benedict says, “Meet up with Mr. Clay and see what you can find out. Call the Kitchen as soon as you get in. I made sure the hotel would have a hot meal ready for you upon your arrival.”
Nurse Silver kisses him on the top of the head, “Thanks for everything you’ve done. I’m so sorry I have to leave. I’m glad justice was served and we are all safe again.”
“I said I wanted the murderer to hang for what they did to my son,” Sir Benedict says, “And she hanged herself – poetic justice.”
“I feel like everyone was thinking just that, but no one said it.” Mrs. Peacock chimes in, “Perhaps they were worried about offending someone.”
“I don’t think people here really care who they offend.” Nurse Silver stares, unblinking at Mrs. Peacock
“I hope you have a safe ride to the hotel.” Sir Benedict bids Nurse Silver goodbye.
“I’m leaving now, Mrs. Peacock,” Nurse Silver smiles, “Please do not try and delay me this time.”
“I only did so out of urgency.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Sir Benedict and Miss Peach were both so suddenly ill.”
“I don’t suppose we will be seeing each other again,” Nurse Silver says, “With Mr. Clay’s up-an-coming career as a professional tennis instructor; I doubt he will be seeing you or your stepdaughter ever again.”
Mrs. Peacock straightens her back, “Darling, if we are going to have a cat fight tell Sir Benedict to cover his ears and we’ll be quick.”
“You are a heartless bitch,” Nurse Silver says, “You are a control freak. You are insane.”
“For Christ’s sake!” Sir Benedict Black groans from where he is trying to relax in the sun
“Constantine,” Mrs. Peacock walks the length of the edge of the Swimming Pool, “You are undoubtedly the most two-faced person I have ever met. Your little innocent act may have Chandler and everyone else fooled, but believe me when I tell you, Vivienne and I can see straight through to your jealous, attention-seeking core.”
“You know,” Nurse Silver laughs to herself, “It’s a shame you didn’t get to marry Hugh. We could have all grieved and dealt with his death years and years ago.”
“Why don’t you both start a little Sunday gossip group?” Sir Benedict sits up, “Invite the Colonel. You can invite everyone who has had sex with my son and argue amongst yourselves about who is superior.”
Mrs. Peacock and Nurse Silver both stare at each other in silent frustration.
In the Library, Reverend Green sits in the window alcove reading his Bible. Miss Peach enters holding her stomach.
“Still feeling ill?” asks Reverend Green
“Where’s Nurse Silver?” Miss Peach asks, wincing in pain as she lies down on the sofa, “Mrs. White is too busy focusing on this dinner we are supposed to prepare, no one realizes that I’m extremely sick!”
“She’s leaving soon,” Reverend Green continues to read
“It feels like my stomach is on fire.” Miss Peach moans grabbing at her abdomen.
Reverend Green sighs and closes his Bible, “Would you like me to get Mrs. White?”
“Please!” Miss Peach begs, “Tell her it’s getting worse!”
“Come to the Kitchen with me,” Reverend Green instructs, standing up with crinkling knees, “I’ll get you to the medicine cabinet and see if we can sooth your stomach. Then I will go find Mrs. White.”
Miss Peach stands up and her face twists in pain, “I can’t throw up, I’ve tried to. I can’t make it stop. Mrs. White has tried the medicine cabinet! Everything makes it worse. It’s like a plague!”
Reverend Green stops short, “It’s not a plague! You are exaggerating. Just calm down and let’s get you something to drink.”
Reverend Green opens the Library door and leads her out into the Hall. Professor Plum comes down the staircase, watching Miss Peach and Reverend Green exiting the Library. Miss Peach’s face twists in pain as she grabs her stomach with a slight yelp.
“Melba,” Professor Plum is initially struck with alarm and concern, knowing where the stomach cramps are coming from.
“She has a little stomach ache.” Reverend Green says, “I’m going to take her to the Kitchen and then find Mrs. White.”
“Uncle Peter,” Miss Peach winces on her way to the Kitchen, “Mr. Green wanted me to tell you that he’ll write to you. He told me to tell you goodbye.”
“Where is he?” asks Professor Plum
“My nephew was called away on business.” Reverend Green says, “He sends his regards and wishes he could attend the garden party this afternoon.”
Reverend Green pushes open the Kitchen door as Miss Peach and Professor Plum enter.
“Professor,” Reverend Green turns to the pantry in search of the medicine cabinet, “You could go find Mrs. White. Kills two birds with one stone that way. I’ll look for some ipecac syrup or do you suppose Mrs. White keeps some laudanum around?”
“I have laudanum in my room.” Professor Plum says, “But I’m sure Mrs. White has some.”
“She does,” Reverend Green smiles returning to the center of the room, from the pantry. He is carrying two bottles.
“Perhaps we should find Nurse Silver and see what she thinks.” Miss Peach says
“I’ll find Mrs. White.” Professor Plum says heading towards the back door, “If I run into Nurse Silver I will send her in your direction.”
“Reverend,” Miss Peach leans against the counter, reading the labels off the bottles, “What exactly is your nephew doing?”
At a seedy pier-side market, Mr. Lyman Green puts a fresh carnation in the lapel of his pin-striped business coat. He takes a slow drag off of his cigar as he walks through the market. He stops at a dingy, bearded man who is missing several teeth. He reeks of chewing tobacco and gin. The air is thick and foggy, making it hard to keep one’s guard up.
“I’m looking for a man named Seafoam.” Mr. Green says
“Aye,” the man looks up at him, “Move along.”
“You don’t understand,” Mr. Green chuckles, impatiently, “I need to talk to Seafoam now.”
“Your deal with Seafoam is still set.” The old man says spitting tobacco directly onto Mr. Green’s left shoe, “Move along.”
“I will shoot you in the head in this marketplace if you do not tell me where my passage into the Atlantic is!” Mr. Green reaches inside his coat and grips tightly
“If you shoot me, you’ve as good as lost your captain,” the man laughs, “Control your anger, Lyman Green. Your uncle warned me that you were fast to pull the trigger. I’ll take you to Azure, but don’t expect anything else from me.”
“I don’t.” Mr. Green says, “Get me there and you’ll be paid.”
Aboard the top deck of Sekhmet’s Tears, Captain Robert Brown stares at the rocky coast. The morning fog has nearly lifted, yet the ship is anchored, miles away from the nearby docks.
“Why in God’s name didn’t we pull to port last night?” Prince Azure furiously asks, making his entrance vocal.
“Good morning, your Highness.” Captain Brown nods his head to Prince Azure
“Why haven’t we moved yet, dawn was hours ago?” Prince Azure’s eyes are filled with fire and his voice is filled with rage.
“The rocks are sharp and the waters are foggy.” Captain Brown says, “I was only taking your safety in mind.”
Mr. Saffron watches Captain Brown with a tight lip, from where he stands by Prince Azure’s side.
“Your loyalty to my family has suffered sorely since the death of Hugh Black.” Prince Azure says, “I will ask you one final time to move this ship to Blackwell Grange or you will be roughly and quickly replaced. A captain does not command a prince!”
Prince Azure turns and leaves, reentering his private quarters. Mr. Saffron stands alone, looking at Captain Brown with satisfaction. The tension between the two men is evident, but Captain Brown stands his ground.
“My instructions were much clearer and the repercussions laid out were much more severe. You didn’t do what I asked you to.” Mr. Saffron says, “You under estimate what I can do.”
“You under estimate what I can do.” Captain Brown stops his foot two times against the deck on the Ship. From behind him, Mr. Green steps out of the fog holding a pistol at Captain Brown’s signal, “I don’t believe you’ve met Mr. Green. He protected Hugh Black and helped him for many many years.”
“You bought protection.” Mr. Saffron says with raised eyebrows, “But for who are you protecting?”
“Myself and my son.” Captain Brown says matter-of-factly
“I will admit, you surprised me!” Mr. Saffron claps, “I am impressed.”
“Did Seafoam go back to shore?” Captain Brown says turning to Mr. Green
“Sadly, he did not,” Mr. Green says, “I had to shoot Seafoam in the chest. Unfortunately, this is where I double-cross you.”
Mr. Green walks over to stand at Mr. Saffron’s side. Captain Brown’s heart begins thumping loudly in his chest. Mr. Green and Mr. Saffron’s words are lost on his ears as the feeling of betrayal sweeps over him in hot flashes.
“You should have crashed it. This wooden bitch wasn’t meant to take us to Blackwell Grange.” Mr. Saffron says, “Brunette could have escaped, had you crashed it into those rocks. I don’t like to kill, Robert. I wanted Brunette to escape. I like to give everyone a fighting chance.”
“Lyman,” Captain Brown says, “I know your uncle! Please, rethink what you are about to do. Prince Azure will not stay loyal to Mr. Saffron when he finds out what Mr. Saffron has threatened to do.”
Mr. Green looks over at a burlap sack, lying on a barrel behind Mr. Saffron, “Prince Azure will never find out.” Mr. Green picks up the sack. It is clear that there is blood forming at the bottom of it. Captain Brown’s eyes begin to fill with tears.
“I’m so sorry, Robert.” Mr. Saffron says, “I honestly am.”
Mr. Green turns the sack inside out and Monsieur Brunette’s decapitated head rolls out onto the wood deck. Captain Brown’s knees instantly become rubber as he falls to the ground in bewildered horror.
“No!” Captain Brown’s face twists up as tears and snot begin to drip down his face, “My son! My sweet son!”
“Now that we’ve gotten this ugliness out of the way,” Mr. Saffron says, “Are you willing to follow directions a little better?”
“Al, my sweet, sweet baby boy.” Captain Brown weeps miserably
Mr. Green takes Brunette’s head by the hair and tosses it into the water. As soon as the head splashes into the water, Captain Brown collapses on his back from shock.
“Dammit.” Mr. Green says
“We have smelling salts.” Mr. Saffron says, “Let him rest for a few minutes. He won’t rest easy anymore.”
To Be Continued…
“Lachlan,” Rusty smiles, “I know I haven’t come to visit in a long time…”
Rusty is silent. He closes his eyes and allows a tear to roll off his cheek and into the grass.
“I’m sure by now you would have long since moved on from what you went through.” Rusty looks up, “You would have grown up to be so strong, so handsome… I just wanted to be here again. I get a feeling that there is going to be some bad changes happening here soon.”
Rusty looks around in the dark, checking his surroundings in constant fear, “I’m so sorry, Lachlan.”
Rusty stands up and quickly runs off.
Inside Blackwell Grange, Mrs. Peacock sits on the edge of Professor Plum’s bed as he unlocks the hidden safe behind a picture over his desk.
“I’m happy to see that despite everything you are still open to negotiate business.” Mrs. Peacock says with a smile
“This is dangerous stuff.” Professor Plum says, “One drop will render the consumer sick. Two drops and they are unconscious. Three…”
“I get what happens after three.” Mrs. Peacock says
“I don’t think you do.” Professor Plum says gripping the bottle tightly, “Three is simple death. But if any more than three drops are consumed: a fast acting poison will course through the consumer’s body, causing them to bleed out of every orifice.”
Mrs. Peacock stands up from the bed, “I’ll keep that in mind, should there ever come a need for four drops.” She opens her hand for the bottle.
“I’m not giving you the whole bottle until you tell me why you need it and who you plan on using it on.” Professor Plum says
“Peter,” Mrs. Peacock stands up and goes over to his windows and looks out at the dusk landscape, “Oh, how ghastly! You have a clear view of the Boat House. Surely those naked statues get tiresome after a while.”
“Who are you planning on using it on?” asks Professor Plum, resting his eyes for a moment
“Before I tell you,” Mrs. Peacock stops and purses her lips, choosing her words carefully, “Let me point out that there is a closely guarded secret about your niece.”
“Melba?” Professor Plum says, “You better not have intentions of drugging Melba.”
“Your sister, Rose, isn’t Melba’s mother.” Mrs. Peacock takes a deep breath
“What?” Professor Plum says, “Then why is she here? Is that why Rose acts so cold to her?”
“That’s where it gets complicated. She’s actually still a Black, even though she isn’t Rose’s daughter.” Mrs. Peacock bites her lip
“That would explain Rose’s actions.” Professor Plum says, “How is she in this family.”
“She’s Hugh’s daughter.” Mrs. Peacock says
In his bedroom, Colonel Mustard sits with the window open. He fidgets nervously, trying to load bullets into his Shotgun. On his desk, his military regalia, ribbons, and medals are laid out. He places his monocle back in his eye as he finishes loading the Shotgun.
“She’ll never pull a knife to my throat.” Colonel Mustard says, “Why Lord Lavender would ever marry a cheap, gold-digging slag like her…”
“You really shouldn’t talk ill about someone under the same roof as you,” Lady Lavender stands in Colonel Mustard’s doorway
“How did you get in?” Colonel Mustard tries to point the Shotgun in her direction, but the barrel isn’t secured and falls forward with a pitiful swing. He stands with his incapacitated Shotgun, trying to remain tall and intimidating.
“The locks in this house are easy to pick,” Lady Lavender says, “Relax! I don’t have my perfume bottle, do I? Anyway, I need to ask you something.”
Colonel Mustard slams the Shotgun on his desk and grabs his army knife, which he had concealed in his boot, “Get out!”
“We must talk about those papers that were in the typewriter,” Lady Lavender holds up her hand “I was drunk.” Colonel Mustard says
“Yes, but that’s not the point I am getting at. I left them on the Study desk.” Lady Lavender says, “After the memorial I went to get them. Despite our encounter earlier, I figured you’d want them in your possession.”
“So you are here to return the papers?” Colonel Mustard looks down feeling shame
“That was my intention. However, someone walked off with them.” Lady Lavender says, crossing her arms with a sigh,
“Just hope whoever found them didn’t have their own secrets left for anyone to read. You might make a few enemies.”
“Don’t you think I don’t know that!” Colonel Mustard becomes enraged, “Goddammit! Who took them?”
“You should be more careful next time you have a drink.” Lady Lavender turns to exit
“If you don’t find those papers I will tell Mrs. Peacock you are here for felonious reasons.” Colonel Mustard threatens
“On what grounds?” Lady Lavender says, “I am reputable.”
“I guarantee that if Interpol dug into your life, you would be executed for espionage!” Colonel Mustard stabs the Knife into the edge of his desk, cracking the wood.
“Colonel, have you been drinking again?” Lady Lavender becomes frustrated, “You are missing the point. I am not your enemy. You need to consider the possibility that several very dangerous individuals might be plotting against you right now. What if Mrs. Peacock ends up with the papers? You referred to her as ‘a husband killing aristocrat who has had more men than a French prostitute’. If what you say about her killing her husbands is true, then you have a lot to worry about. She isn’t afraid to kill.”
“Seeing how I didn’t get a sober chance to read it… How thoroughly did you read it?” Colonel Mustard asks, choosing his words carefully, “How far did you get through?”
Lady Lavender enters Colonel Mustard’s room fully and shuts the door, “I found out that you are a struggling homosexual. You mentioned briefly how Mr. Green and his Uncle, Reverend Green are involved in their own dirty family-business, which involving money laundering and human trafficking. A bit sloppily, you wrote how Dr. Black has had sex with almost every woman at Blackwell Grange. We’ve already been over how you called Mrs. Peacock a husband killer. You said Mrs. White has been skimming the bankbooks and that Professor Plum conducted illegal medical experiments which ended the life of his wife. Miss Scarlet…”
“You can stop.” Colonel Mustards closes his eyes, “I’ve heard enough..”
“And now someone has heard too.” Lady Lavender says, “Think about that before you aim the Shotgun at me. I’m not your enemy.”
“You held a blade to my throat!” Colonel Mustard says grabbing the Shotgun from the desk
“Did I slice it into your windpipe?” asks Lady Lavender, “I could have sneaked into your room and finished you off this very night, instead I am here to warn you about your own mistakes.”
At his home, across town, Mr. Miles Meadow-Brook sits at the head of the Dining Room table. He has his briefcase open and paper-work strewn about everywhere.
“You would never believe the day I had!” A shrill voice echoes in another room as the door closes, “Connie just dropped me off about half an hour ago, but I saw Mrs. Prussian tending to her garden and simply had to see how she was doing.” The woman enters the Dining Room, ignoring the fact the Mr. Meadow-Brook is reading at the table, “Mrs. Prussian and her husband are having some marriage problems. She didn’t say much, but from what I got out of her it sounded like their love isn’t strong.” She continues on, “I suspect he’s found another woman. He’s probably committing adultery with one of those nurses down at the hospital. You know how doctors are! Once an attractive woman walks by, all the blood leaves their brains. It’s no wonder Hugh Black could never settle down. Doctor’s just seem to be untrustworthy when it comes to family.”
“Jane,” Mr. Meadow-Brook sets down his paper work and calmly takes off his glasses, “Can’t you see that I’m trying to read something?”
Jane Meadow-Brook stands up from the table, “I didn’t mean to bother you. I just figured you might have heard about Dr. Prussian and might shed some light on whether or not he is having the affair or not. It’s been driving me mad since the idea of him cheating entered my brain. I just have to know if it’s true or not. Suppose I dress myself up in a fine gown and put on a little show for him. I can find out if he’s the type of scoundrel that would take advantage of the humble wife of a successful lawyer.”
Mr. Meadow-Brook grabs several papers from his briefcase, “If you want gossip, take a look at these. I found them lying on Dr. Black’s desk. I have no idea what to do with these, but I figured I should hang onto them.”
Mrs. Meadow-Brook snatches them and begins to scan over the thin lines, “Mrs. Peacock, Mr. Green, Mrs. White, Professor Plum… this is all scandal written on the people that frequent Blackwell Grange.”
“Written by someone inside Blackwell Grange.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Surely it wasn’t written by Hugh. The police would have considered this evidence and there would be a lot more police work involved. This is new. It wasn’t there when Mrs. Peacock and her stepdaughter had a meeting with me earlier in the day.”
“Extraordinary!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook narrows her gaze as she keeps reading, “It was written by someone in love with Hugh Black. You can tell by the opening lines.”
“Perhaps Mrs. Peacock or Mrs. White?” asks Mr. Meadow-Brook
“Why would they write something about themselves?” Mrs. Meadow-Brook continues to read on, “It’s someone else. They are talking about Mr. Green and Reverend Green and their involvement in some kidnappings. How on earth did the author to this letter glean this information? Listen to this: ‘Ever since youth I loved him. Hugh even loved me back, despite his life-time of meaningless sex and lustful conquests. Real, true, unaltered love occurred between the two of us. I knew the emotion in my heart was one that I longed to hold there forever.’ Whoever is responsible for this writing should be praised. It’s like poetry!”
“Incriminating poetry,” Mr. Meadow-Brook opens his hand to take the papers back.
“Oh let me keep them for the night!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook begs, “You know how much I like a good gossip! Besides, I might be able to decipher who wrote the letter. I have always been good at solving those mystery novels.”
Mr. Meadow-Brook resumes to his paperwork.
“You know,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook turns to her husband again, “I don’t think I’ve been to Blackwell Grange in a long time. I can’t remember the last social event they held that we were invited to. We used to get so many invites to dinner parties and croquet games that we would cancel every other weekend just to catch up on our sleep. Remember that trip to Canada? I miss Beatrice Black a lot. She was the only member of the family that I think truly enjoyed having me around.”
“What about that psychic sister of Hugh’s?” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Didn’t the two of you get along?”
“Madame Rose?” Mrs. Meadow-Brook laughs, “No. She was always very bitter and rude. She would predict the most outlandish prophecies and claim that what she saw in her dreams were facts. She was dreadfully boring and not nearly as exciting as you’d expect a psychic to be. My mother had a friend who was a fortune teller and she was delightful to talk to. I thought she talked too much, however.”
Mr. Meadow-Brook mumbles to himself as he tries to resume reading the papers.
“Am I bothering you again?” asks Mrs. Meadow-Brook
“I’d really just like to get through this stack of papers before bed.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says
“You work too hard!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “You should retire. We could spend our days by the radio. I’ll start knitting again and you could start smoking a pipe. It would just be like my aunt and uncle from Germany. They used to sit there in their chairs all day…”
“Jane, please,” Mr. Meadow-Brook closes his eyes and rubs his forehead, “Another time. I need to finish this right now. Leave the papers. You can look over them in the morning. I just need to have them within reach in case something comes to mind.”
Mrs. Meadow-Brook nods slowly and drops the papers on the side of the table. She turns to leave the room, stopping to fix her hair in the mirror on her way out. As soon as she is gone, Mr. Meadow-Brook takes the papers she left and begins to read through them.
“Maybe I can afford to retire.” Mr. Meadow-Brook laughs to himself, “There is a high-marketed price to keep these types of secrets.”
The next morning, sunlight shines down on the freshly cut lawns of Blackwell Grange. The water on the lake sparkles and shines with the hopes and promises that it will be a great day. Several groups of people have begun to assemble around the grounds of the estate, despite how early it is. Rusty walks around the outside of the Boat House. He is carrying a Water Bucket. He sees Mr. Ash and Mrs. White setting up wooden tables in the Gazebo. He walks past the Tennis Courts and sets the Water Bucket down on the Terrace steps.
“Do you two need help?” asks Rusty
“Would you mind fetching some small rocks, Rusty?” Mrs. White calls out, “I need to keep the tablecloth from blowing away in the wind. I figure pinning the edges of the tablecloth down will be sufficient.”
Rusty begins to snatch small smooth rocks on his way to the Gazebo.
“Are you sure a Garden Party is a good way to honor Hugh?” ask Rusty, “We just had the memorial yesterday? Doesn’t this feel a little too chipper?”
“Everyone is in town for the first time in so many years,” Mr. Ash says, “Hugh would have loved to see everyone together having a good time.”
“Miss Peach is going to be helping me in the Kitchen today, assuming she is recovered fully.” Mrs. White says, “We are preparing an all-American lunch. I’m going to try my hand at her grandmother’s fried chicken recipe.”
“I’m glad everyone’s spirits are lifted.” Rusty says, lightening up a little, “Was Lord Gray comfortable with the sleeping arrangements we provided?”
“He found a way to alert me every single time I was about to sit down for a rest.” Mr. Ash rolls his eyes, “My legs are killing me. I never realized how helpful it was having Yvette around.”
“Until she went and murdered our employer…” Rusty sighs, grabbing a few more rocks.
“Stay off your feet, Reggie.” Mrs. White says, “I’ve got the tablecloth secured.”
“I’ve been thinking about putting a small cot in the pantry.” Mr. Ash jokes, “I could use the quick naps.”
“I’ll use it whenever you aren’t using it.” Rusty finishes collecting rocks
“Did you bring out the croquet?” Mrs. White turns to Mr. Ash
“I left the equipment outside the front of the Garage.” Mr. Ash says, “I wasn’t sure where the guests would prefer it to be set up.”
“Every other year we’ve put it between the Tennis Courts and the Garage.” Rusty motions to the empty spot of grass.”
“We used to put it between the Swimming Pool and Gate House, until the Fountain was added.” Mrs. White says
“Perhaps we could make use of the open space behind the Ballroom?” asks Mr. Ash, “The old Rose Garden is never really used anymore.”
“Mostly thorns and roots now,” Mrs. White nods
“The lake and trees do look lovely.” Rusty says, “That’s normally where Colonel Mustard shoots skeet anyway. I suppose I’ll set it up back there.”
“Is the swimming pool cleaned?” asks Mr. Ash, “There were leaves in it this morning.”
“I had Mr. Clay help Rusty with it before he and Nurse Silver left yesterday.” Mrs. White says
“Did Nurse Silver leave?” asks Mr. Ash “Miss Peach and Sir Benedict were feeling quite ill last night. I thought she decided to stay after Mr. Clay had left.”
“I thought I saw them both going off together.” Mrs. White says, “I’m not sure.”
“I could have sworn Nurse Silver was upstairs last night when I was checking on Lord Gray.” Mr. Ash says
“Nurse Silver is here.” Rusty says, “I saw her this morning.”
“How odd.” Mr. Ash says, “Sir Benedict hasn’t taken a turn for the worst, has he?”
“Nurse Silver seemed anxious.” Rusty says
“What about Miss Peach?” asks Mr. Ash, “You said she took ill?”
“Food poisoning,” Mrs. White frowns, “Or so she is telling everyone. Not one other person got sick from my cooking!”
“Unless Sir Benedict’s sudden illness is related to food poisoning as well?” Rusty shrugs. Mrs. White shoots him an angry look.
Outside at the Swimming Pool, Sir Benedict Black sits down on a chaise lounge as Nurse Silver drapes a plaid blanket over his lap. Mrs. Peacock strolls slowly towards them from the direction of the Kitchen.
“The bitch is coming.” Nurse Silver mutters to Sir Benedict as she pastes on a big smile for Mrs. Peacock, “Patricia, how are you this morning.”
“I’m doing wonderful, thank you.” Mrs. Peacock smiles, “I slept like a log. Mrs. White had to wake me.” She rubs her arms,
“It’s a bit chillier than I expected.”
“It’ll warm up,” Nurse Silver says
“It always warms up very quickly too.” Sir Benedict says reclining back into the chair, “Step out of the way, you are blocking the sun.”
Mrs. Peacock steps out of his way, “Is this how you plan to spend the garden party?”
“I was locked in an attic for a very long time.” Sir Benedict closes his eyes, “I need to work on my complexion. I need my image to appear strong. I look like I’m frail and dying.” He laughs gently, “That is no way the master of Blackwell Grange should look.”
“Master?” Mrs. Peacock snorts, louder than she realized
“Oh, hasn’t John mentioned?” asks Sir Benedict closes his eyes with ease, “Upon receiving his inheritance on his eighteenth birthday, he and I mutually agreed with Mr. Meadow-Brook that I will be taking the full inheritance. He will receive it once more upon my death, or his 30th birthday, whichever comes sooner.”
“My! That is some exciting news!” Mrs. Peacock smiles wide with tight teeth, “Goodness we will have to make that announcement at the party! Gosh, I’m certain everyone will be thrilled to the gills that you are going to be master of the Blackwell Grange once more!”
“Thrilled to the gills!” Nurse Silver smiles big, turning to Sir Benedict, “Are you sure you are going to be alright if I leave you here?”
“I’ll be fine.” Sir Benedict says, “Meet up with Mr. Clay and see what you can find out. Call the Kitchen as soon as you get in. I made sure the hotel would have a hot meal ready for you upon your arrival.”
Nurse Silver kisses him on the top of the head, “Thanks for everything you’ve done. I’m so sorry I have to leave. I’m glad justice was served and we are all safe again.”
“I said I wanted the murderer to hang for what they did to my son,” Sir Benedict says, “And she hanged herself – poetic justice.”
“I feel like everyone was thinking just that, but no one said it.” Mrs. Peacock chimes in, “Perhaps they were worried about offending someone.”
“I don’t think people here really care who they offend.” Nurse Silver stares, unblinking at Mrs. Peacock
“I hope you have a safe ride to the hotel.” Sir Benedict bids Nurse Silver goodbye.
“I’m leaving now, Mrs. Peacock,” Nurse Silver smiles, “Please do not try and delay me this time.”
“I only did so out of urgency.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Sir Benedict and Miss Peach were both so suddenly ill.”
“I don’t suppose we will be seeing each other again,” Nurse Silver says, “With Mr. Clay’s up-an-coming career as a professional tennis instructor; I doubt he will be seeing you or your stepdaughter ever again.”
Mrs. Peacock straightens her back, “Darling, if we are going to have a cat fight tell Sir Benedict to cover his ears and we’ll be quick.”
“You are a heartless bitch,” Nurse Silver says, “You are a control freak. You are insane.”
“For Christ’s sake!” Sir Benedict Black groans from where he is trying to relax in the sun
“Constantine,” Mrs. Peacock walks the length of the edge of the Swimming Pool, “You are undoubtedly the most two-faced person I have ever met. Your little innocent act may have Chandler and everyone else fooled, but believe me when I tell you, Vivienne and I can see straight through to your jealous, attention-seeking core.”
“You know,” Nurse Silver laughs to herself, “It’s a shame you didn’t get to marry Hugh. We could have all grieved and dealt with his death years and years ago.”
“Why don’t you both start a little Sunday gossip group?” Sir Benedict sits up, “Invite the Colonel. You can invite everyone who has had sex with my son and argue amongst yourselves about who is superior.”
Mrs. Peacock and Nurse Silver both stare at each other in silent frustration.
In the Library, Reverend Green sits in the window alcove reading his Bible. Miss Peach enters holding her stomach.
“Still feeling ill?” asks Reverend Green
“Where’s Nurse Silver?” Miss Peach asks, wincing in pain as she lies down on the sofa, “Mrs. White is too busy focusing on this dinner we are supposed to prepare, no one realizes that I’m extremely sick!”
“She’s leaving soon,” Reverend Green continues to read
“It feels like my stomach is on fire.” Miss Peach moans grabbing at her abdomen.
Reverend Green sighs and closes his Bible, “Would you like me to get Mrs. White?”
“Please!” Miss Peach begs, “Tell her it’s getting worse!”
“Come to the Kitchen with me,” Reverend Green instructs, standing up with crinkling knees, “I’ll get you to the medicine cabinet and see if we can sooth your stomach. Then I will go find Mrs. White.”
Miss Peach stands up and her face twists in pain, “I can’t throw up, I’ve tried to. I can’t make it stop. Mrs. White has tried the medicine cabinet! Everything makes it worse. It’s like a plague!”
Reverend Green stops short, “It’s not a plague! You are exaggerating. Just calm down and let’s get you something to drink.”
Reverend Green opens the Library door and leads her out into the Hall. Professor Plum comes down the staircase, watching Miss Peach and Reverend Green exiting the Library. Miss Peach’s face twists in pain as she grabs her stomach with a slight yelp.
“Melba,” Professor Plum is initially struck with alarm and concern, knowing where the stomach cramps are coming from.
“She has a little stomach ache.” Reverend Green says, “I’m going to take her to the Kitchen and then find Mrs. White.”
“Uncle Peter,” Miss Peach winces on her way to the Kitchen, “Mr. Green wanted me to tell you that he’ll write to you. He told me to tell you goodbye.”
“Where is he?” asks Professor Plum
“My nephew was called away on business.” Reverend Green says, “He sends his regards and wishes he could attend the garden party this afternoon.”
Reverend Green pushes open the Kitchen door as Miss Peach and Professor Plum enter.
“Professor,” Reverend Green turns to the pantry in search of the medicine cabinet, “You could go find Mrs. White. Kills two birds with one stone that way. I’ll look for some ipecac syrup or do you suppose Mrs. White keeps some laudanum around?”
“I have laudanum in my room.” Professor Plum says, “But I’m sure Mrs. White has some.”
“She does,” Reverend Green smiles returning to the center of the room, from the pantry. He is carrying two bottles.
“Perhaps we should find Nurse Silver and see what she thinks.” Miss Peach says
“I’ll find Mrs. White.” Professor Plum says heading towards the back door, “If I run into Nurse Silver I will send her in your direction.”
“Reverend,” Miss Peach leans against the counter, reading the labels off the bottles, “What exactly is your nephew doing?”
At a seedy pier-side market, Mr. Lyman Green puts a fresh carnation in the lapel of his pin-striped business coat. He takes a slow drag off of his cigar as he walks through the market. He stops at a dingy, bearded man who is missing several teeth. He reeks of chewing tobacco and gin. The air is thick and foggy, making it hard to keep one’s guard up.
“I’m looking for a man named Seafoam.” Mr. Green says
“Aye,” the man looks up at him, “Move along.”
“You don’t understand,” Mr. Green chuckles, impatiently, “I need to talk to Seafoam now.”
“Your deal with Seafoam is still set.” The old man says spitting tobacco directly onto Mr. Green’s left shoe, “Move along.”
“I will shoot you in the head in this marketplace if you do not tell me where my passage into the Atlantic is!” Mr. Green reaches inside his coat and grips tightly
“If you shoot me, you’ve as good as lost your captain,” the man laughs, “Control your anger, Lyman Green. Your uncle warned me that you were fast to pull the trigger. I’ll take you to Azure, but don’t expect anything else from me.”
“I don’t.” Mr. Green says, “Get me there and you’ll be paid.”
Aboard the top deck of Sekhmet’s Tears, Captain Robert Brown stares at the rocky coast. The morning fog has nearly lifted, yet the ship is anchored, miles away from the nearby docks.
“Why in God’s name didn’t we pull to port last night?” Prince Azure furiously asks, making his entrance vocal.
“Good morning, your Highness.” Captain Brown nods his head to Prince Azure
“Why haven’t we moved yet, dawn was hours ago?” Prince Azure’s eyes are filled with fire and his voice is filled with rage.
“The rocks are sharp and the waters are foggy.” Captain Brown says, “I was only taking your safety in mind.”
Mr. Saffron watches Captain Brown with a tight lip, from where he stands by Prince Azure’s side.
“Your loyalty to my family has suffered sorely since the death of Hugh Black.” Prince Azure says, “I will ask you one final time to move this ship to Blackwell Grange or you will be roughly and quickly replaced. A captain does not command a prince!”
Prince Azure turns and leaves, reentering his private quarters. Mr. Saffron stands alone, looking at Captain Brown with satisfaction. The tension between the two men is evident, but Captain Brown stands his ground.
“My instructions were much clearer and the repercussions laid out were much more severe. You didn’t do what I asked you to.” Mr. Saffron says, “You under estimate what I can do.”
“You under estimate what I can do.” Captain Brown stops his foot two times against the deck on the Ship. From behind him, Mr. Green steps out of the fog holding a pistol at Captain Brown’s signal, “I don’t believe you’ve met Mr. Green. He protected Hugh Black and helped him for many many years.”
“You bought protection.” Mr. Saffron says with raised eyebrows, “But for who are you protecting?”
“Myself and my son.” Captain Brown says matter-of-factly
“I will admit, you surprised me!” Mr. Saffron claps, “I am impressed.”
“Did Seafoam go back to shore?” Captain Brown says turning to Mr. Green
“Sadly, he did not,” Mr. Green says, “I had to shoot Seafoam in the chest. Unfortunately, this is where I double-cross you.”
Mr. Green walks over to stand at Mr. Saffron’s side. Captain Brown’s heart begins thumping loudly in his chest. Mr. Green and Mr. Saffron’s words are lost on his ears as the feeling of betrayal sweeps over him in hot flashes.
“You should have crashed it. This wooden bitch wasn’t meant to take us to Blackwell Grange.” Mr. Saffron says, “Brunette could have escaped, had you crashed it into those rocks. I don’t like to kill, Robert. I wanted Brunette to escape. I like to give everyone a fighting chance.”
“Lyman,” Captain Brown says, “I know your uncle! Please, rethink what you are about to do. Prince Azure will not stay loyal to Mr. Saffron when he finds out what Mr. Saffron has threatened to do.”
Mr. Green looks over at a burlap sack, lying on a barrel behind Mr. Saffron, “Prince Azure will never find out.” Mr. Green picks up the sack. It is clear that there is blood forming at the bottom of it. Captain Brown’s eyes begin to fill with tears.
“I’m so sorry, Robert.” Mr. Saffron says, “I honestly am.”
Mr. Green turns the sack inside out and Monsieur Brunette’s decapitated head rolls out onto the wood deck. Captain Brown’s knees instantly become rubber as he falls to the ground in bewildered horror.
“No!” Captain Brown’s face twists up as tears and snot begin to drip down his face, “My son! My sweet son!”
“Now that we’ve gotten this ugliness out of the way,” Mr. Saffron says, “Are you willing to follow directions a little better?”
“Al, my sweet, sweet baby boy.” Captain Brown weeps miserably
Mr. Green takes Brunette’s head by the hair and tosses it into the water. As soon as the head splashes into the water, Captain Brown collapses on his back from shock.
“Dammit.” Mr. Green says
“We have smelling salts.” Mr. Saffron says, “Let him rest for a few minutes. He won’t rest easy anymore.”
To Be Continued…