Episode 2.04 “The Pains of Love”
Captain Robert Brown looks around the empty room where his son was once breathing, scheming, and surviving. He walks across the empty room and sighs with a tremor. He is psychologically broken and falling apart. All the furniture that was once in the room is gone. It is as if his son never existed in the first place. Captain Brown’s face is red and puffy; a clear indicator that he has not stopped crying since the moment his son’s death was made apparent.
“Let him go,” Mr. Green comes behind Captain Brown from the corridor, “He does not deserve an old man’s tears. He was a monster and a murderer. Hugh Black was the one who alerted the authorities when he was on the run.”
“He was a good man.” Captain Brown tightens his lip, “He was surrounded by corrupt, loathsome monsters who exploited him. He never murdered anyone.”
“Is that what he told you?” Mr. Green says with a pitiful laugh
“Believe what you want.” Captain Brown says staring with sternness at Mr. Green, “Hugh Black is dead. You have no idea what my son could have done to save their lives…”
“Lives?” Mr. Green asks
“Murder.” Captain Brown says, “It’s the only thing certain around the Black’s. My son accidentally found out Prince Azure’s darkest secret after he fled Black’s Mediterranean villa.”
“Did he?” asks Mr. Green, “Did he share it with you?”
“I was there in Africa with your uncle when the first murder was committed.” Captain Brown says, “My son came and stayed at the Royal Palace secretly with me.
“You are talking of the first murder?” asks Mr. Green with a raised eyebrow, “Your memory must be slipping.”
“Thirteen years ago Hugh’s mother, Beatrice Black, died of a quick, quiet illness. Ten years ago Margaret and Samuel Boddy disappeared in Africa. Eight years ago my son was framed for a murder he never committed. Five years ago Benedict Black was pronounced dead. He just recently came out as alive.” Captain Brown lists off, “Those incidents triggered so many horrible things. My point is quite simple: what things will be triggered by my son’s sudden and hastily planned murder?”
“Benedict Black was sloppy and careless.” Mr. Green shakes his head in frustration, “I discovered him.”
“Let’s just try our best to keep the dead people dead.” Captain Brown says, “Hugh Black was the devil. There is no greater evil that existed on this earth than Hugh Black and his twisted mind. He framed my son for mass murders and tortured and murdered innocent women. He drugged them, made them go half insane before he’d strip their flesh from their bodies.”
“Amelia Dove was his fiancée.” Mr. Green says, “She is still alive without a scratch on her body.”
“Yes, but how is her mind?” asks Captain Brown
Mr. Green is silent.
“He was preparing for the slaughter.” Captain Brown says closing his eyes, “I miss my son, Lyman.”
“You are grieving.” Mr. Green says, “Get yourself together before Saffron kills you too.”
“Lyman,” Captain Brown says, “Your uncle and I were very close, out of respect for him, I offer you my advice: get the hell out of here before it’s too late.”
“I’m not on your side.” Mr. Green says, “Just because I listened to your stories and let you vent does not change the reason I am here. I’m not going to listen to the things you say about Mr. Saffron and Prince Azure. I know deception better than anyone else. The only reason you are still alive is because Mr. Saffron is a kinder man than I am. I would have slashed your throat and dumped you into the water with your son. I just want to make certain that we are clear. I am not here to save you. I am not here to protect you. I am here to seek answers.”
At Blackwell Grange, Miss Melba Peach lays on the pink settee in the Lounge with a washcloth on her forehead. She moans in pain, gripping at her stomach. Mrs. White stands by her side with Reverend Green and Sergeant Gray.
“I feel dizzy.” Miss Peach says, suddenly panting rapidly, “It’s so hot in here.”
“She looks horrible!” Reverend Green whispers to Mrs. White as he goes to open up a window to allow some breeze for Miss Peach.
“I’m sure it’s just an upset stomach.” Mrs. White says walking over to Reverend Green, who sits on the piano stool.
“It’s so cold in here.” Miss Peach takes the washcloth off her forehead
“You were just hot a second ago.” Reverend Green says from where he just sat down. He gets up with a grunt and closes the window.
“I suppose we should check for a fever.” Mrs. White says, “I’m not sure what else to do
“Melba,” Sergeant Gray smiles at her delicate face, rubbing her cheek lightly, “I’m here with you, darling. You are going to feel better in a few hours and we can enjoy the garden party together.”
“Stuart,” Miss Peach smiles up at him, trying to hold back the pain burning away at her stomach.
“We should call a doctor.” Reverend Green says
“Nurse Silver can’t have gone far.” Mrs. White says
“No,” Reverend Green says, “She needs a doctor.”
“It’s not like she’s carrying the plague!” Mrs. White says
“Will you please stop using that word?” Reverend Green becomes angry, “I’m sorry. Where’s the telephone?”
“I’ll do it,” Mrs. White says, “I’ll see if Dr. Prussian can come by. He used to work with Hugh.”
“Was he at the memorial yesterday?” asks Reverend Green, “I don’t recall him being there. They must not have been that close.”
“He’s dedicated to his work.” Mrs. White says, “He was taking calls yesterday.”
“That’s admirable.” Reverend Green rolls his eyes, “We need someone to come for Melba?”
“Auntie always told me I’d wear pink at my wedding.” Miss Peach stares out the window into the sunlight
“You will.” Sergeant Gray smiles, gripping her hand, “And you’ll be the envy of everyone around.”
“Will your father ever accept me?” asks Miss Peach, wincing again
“I don’t know.” Sergeant Gray’s voice turns sad and quiet, “We don’t need his approval. We’ve been through so much together since the murder of Hugh Black. It affected us both in such a powerful way.”
“I’ve never felt more safe and secure than I did when you kept me safe from Brunette.” Miss Peach says, “He used to be charming, but he never made me feel safe.”
“How did you meet him?” asks Sergeant Gray, “You never like to talk about him.”
“Well,” Miss Peach says painfully and slowly, “I was at an art show. It was at a country mansion after a horse race. I was dressed up in a giant white sunhat and an orange dress with touches of gold and white all throughout. It looked like flames when I walked.”
“I’m sure you were beautiful.” Sergeant Gray says
“Brunette was in the Trophy Room.” Miss Peach says, “He saw me admiring a small bronze horse statuette. He told me that the owner of the house was rich and arrogant and never used half the elaborate rooms in his mansion.”
“Like this house?” Sergeant Gray smiles and looks around
“This is a modest sized mansion.” Miss Peach giggles, “I’ve seen bigger and grander.”
“Please go on with the story.” Sergeant Gray urges her with a smile
“He took me to the Studio of the mansion and…” her voice starts to trails off, “He stole the trophy for me. I didn’t even
notice he pocketed the little bronze horse. He was so charming…” her voice goes silent again, “But he…” she begins to have trouble focusing, “But he was a killer…”
“Melba?” Sergeant Gray feels her body go limp, “Are you okay.”
“Do you think I’ll wear pink at my wedding?” Miss Peach smiles at the blue sky, “I think I will.”
“Mrs. White hurry!” Reverend Green rushes to Miss Peach’s side, “Melba, sweetheart, stay with us.”
“Why do you always sew so slowly?” Miss Peach asks, her eyes fluttering closed
FLASHBACK – 17 YEARS AGO
Young Melba Peach sits on the front porch with her Aunt Honey. Aunt Honey is sewing the hem of a white wedding gown.
“How come Cousin Beth is gettin’ married so young?” Melba asks
“That a mighty bold thing for a nine-year-old to say.” Aunt Honey squints down at the young girl, “You won’t wear something this plain at your wedding!”
“How come?” asks Melba, “I think the laces are purty!”
“Don’t say purty!” Aunt Honey says, “Talk like a lady.”
“Pretty.” Melba corrects
“White is too plain of a color.” Aunt Honey says, “Cousin Beth is blonde and blondes don’t look too good in anything but
white. You are the fair-haired child. You’ll wear pink at your wedding.”
“What if I never find a man to love me true?” Melba says looking down at her feet
“Nonsense, child!” Aunt Honey says, “Men will flock around you from miles away with gems, candies, and roses.”
Miss Peach looks up at the blue sky optimistically, “Do you think I’ll wear pink at my wedding?”
“I think you will.” Aunt Honey says
“Melba!” Sergeant Gray’s voice shakes her from her memory, “Reverend Green help her!”
Miss Peach comes to in the Lounge and immediately begins to shake and tremble.
“Aunt Honey…” Miss Peach shutters out as she begins to convulse in Sergeant Gray’s arms.
“She’s having a seizure!” Reverend Green shouts, “Set her down!”
Sergeant Gray lets go as Miss Peach shakes and sputters on the sofa in the Lounge. She begins vomiting on the rug uncontrollably. Miss Peach goes limp and falls from the sofa to the floor.
“Oh my god!” Sergeant Gray’s hands are trembling in fear, “Melba!”
“Mrs. White! Come quick!” Reverend Green rushes to the Lounge door.
Outside Blackwell Grange, at the croquet field near the tall Ballroom windows, John Boddy sits in a white, wrought-iron chair sipping on a cold glass of lemonade. Miss Scarlet approaches from the Boat House. The autumn breeze blows her long blonde hair and thin red dress sensually. Mr. Boddy takes his eyes off of her, despite her obvious approach.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Miss Scarlet greets him cordially
“Tired.” Mr. Boddy says, retrieving a round pair of sunglasses from his pocket and putting them on.
“May I sit with you?” asks Miss Scarlet
“Do as you please, it’s your house for the next few months.” Mr. Boddy says
“I’m sorry for the way I acted.” Miss Scarlet says, “I was hoping we could talk?”
“I’m not sure I have anything to say to you.” Mr. Boddy says pulling a pocket watch out of his breast pocket.
“I lost both my parents when I was young.” Miss Scarlet stares off at the balls and mallets laying in the grass. She reaches
over for the glass pitcher of lemonade and pours some into an empty glass, “Your parents and my parents were very special. They truly loved each other.”
“You know nothing about my parents.” Mr. Boddy says, “Don’t try and reach out to me by using my dead parents as leverage.”
“I wasn’t trying to,” Miss Scarlet’s voice goes soft, she takes a sip, “No one else can relate to me because no one else had a happy life before their parents died. Everyone that I have talked to has been unhappy and angry when they should have been happy. They take it for granted. You are only unhappy because of what happened to your family.”
“Yes,” Mr. Boddy shrugs, “I’m mad as hell because my parents are dead. Forgive me for hating the Colonel… the bloody man who was sent to bring them back to me!”
“Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be happy again.” Miss Scarlet says
“There is no doubt that you will find happiness again,” Mr. Boddy says running his fingers along the chain of the pocket watch, “Pretty girls like you always get their way.”
“Not this pretty girl.” Miss Scarlet finishes her lemonade, “I need something stronger. Care for a drink?”
“I don’t drink.” Mr. Boddy says
“Well you need one.” Miss Scarlet says, “Come to the Billiard Room with me.”
“Why?” Mr. Boddy asks
“Because I really need a friend right now and so do you.” Miss Scarlet says
“How do I know that you aren’t just trying to trick me for your stepmother’s sake?” Mr. Boddy asks
“I don’t associate myself with that bitch anymore.” Miss Scarlet says
“Since when?” asks Mr. Boddy
“Since I realized that she is just using me as an attractive bargaining chip.” Miss Scarlet says, “Why else did she not give me up for adoption after my father died.”
“I feel like the only reason Uncle Hugh kept me around was because he didn’t have any children of his own to inherit.” Mr. Boddy says, “But I was hardly ever here at Blackwell Grange.”
“Boarding schools?” Miss Scarlet asks
“He would send me away and when I came back on holiday Mrs. White was the only one I’d ever see.” Mr. Boddy says,
“Mrs. White was more of a mother to me than my own mother was.”
“Your mother loved you.” Miss Scarlet says
“Tell me, did you know my mother well?” asks Mr. Boddy
“I barely knew her.” Miss Scarlet says
“Then don’t pretend that you knew how she felt about me.” Mr. Boddy says, “My mother was always gone. She was the face of the Black family. She joined the Black’s with the Boddy’s. Two filthy rich families with way too much money and way too much time on their hands.”
“You need to get away from these people.” Miss Scarlet says lowering her voice slightly
“I’m heir.” Mr. Boddy says
“I know that.” Miss Scarlet says, “Cut them all off if you know what’s best for you. The staff, the colonel, the professor, my stepmother, just cut them all out of your life.” Miss Scarlet clenches her hands tightly around her glass of lemonade.
“What about you?” asks Mr. Boddy, “I assume you are implying that I keep you in my life and not cut you out either?”
“John, I have so much money,” Miss Scarlet says, “I don’t need to steal the Black fortune.”
“I don’t know what you could expect to gain from insisting that I cut everyone off.” Mr. Boddy takes off his sunglasses and looks Miss Scarlet in the eyes
“Satisfaction,” Miss Scarlet takes a gulp of her lemonade, “In doing so, I feel as though I am freeing myself from the past. Maybe watching you cut everyone out will give me the courage to do the same.”
“What do you suppose grandfather and Uncle Peter will think?” asks Mr. Boddy
“People will get angry and times may be stressful shortly after cutting them out.” Miss Scarlet says, “But I would much rather suffer through a few months of agony than endure a lifetime of freeloaders and self-centered aristocrats. I would rather see the gardens and fountains overrun with thorns and cracks than watch these people walk around with no remorse for the wickedness they carry around.”
“You seem so self-aware.” Mr. Boddy says, “What if we appear to give your stepmother what she wants?”
“What do you mean?” asks Miss Scarlet
“Do you suppose pretending we were in love would keep your stepmother from planning and scheming?” Mr. Boddy says,
“If she thinks you are still on her side, luring me?”
“I could make believe for a little while.” Miss Scarlet says, “How long do you suggest we keep up the charade?”
“At least until I inherit.” Mr. Boddy says, “Then I can cut them off and live my life.”
In the Garden, outside the front of Blackwell Grange, Mrs. Peacock stands with Lord Gray. They spot Mr. and Mrs. Meadow-Brook coming through the Gate House.
“Oh please tell me that is not who I think it is!” Lord Gray clucks in disgust
“Oh be nice!” Mrs. Peacock playfully swats his arm, “I thought it would be nice to invite her. She doesn’t get invited to many social events anymore.”
“I wonder why.” Lord Gray says
“Hello! Hello!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook chirps as she approaches with her husband, “Beautiful day for a garden party. I said to Miles yesterday how fun it would be to get to see Blackwell Grange again and now here we are. I actually did come by last week and dropped off some baked goods: some cookies, muffins, biscuits, a couple fresh loaves of bread. I didn’t actually make the bread. I picked it up with the preserves and cheeses on the way over. All the rolls and sweets were homemade however. Mrs. White was the one who received them. I do hope everyone got to taste them. I only got to see the inside of the Kitchen for a little bit. I’m sure you’ve done wonderful things with the rest of the house.”
“Lord Gray will have to give you the tour.” Mrs. Peacock says, “He is an architect expert. I’m sure he will answer all your questions about the doorframes, stained glass, and buttresses.”
“Oh! How splendid!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook claps her hands enthusiastically
Lord Gray feigns a big smile.
“I suppose we might get a moment to talk?” asks Mr. Meadow-Brook
“Of course,” Mrs. Peacock says, “I’m sure they’d love to get to the tour of the house!”
Mrs. Meadow-Brook and Lord Gray walk off as Mrs. Peacock chuckles.
“Jane will talk his ear off all day.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says
“That was the plan.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Lord Gray was giving Mr. Ash and Mrs. White trouble all last night with his rooming accommodations.”
“I hate to jump straight to the serious part of today,” Mr. Meadow-Brook clears his throat
“Is something wrong?” Mrs. Peacock notices Mr. Meadow-Brook’s mood shift
“Did you happen to get ahold of the accountant, Mr. Slate-Grey?” Mr. Meadow-Brook asks
“Oh yes,” Mrs. Peacock says, “I have full access to the funds.”
“Wonderful.” Mr. Meadow-Brook smiles in relief, “Then I hope you wouldn’t mind giving it all to me.”
Mrs. Peacock laughs, “Are we putting it somewhere secret to hide from Benedict and John?”
“No,” Mr. Meadow-Brook shakes his head, “You are giving it all to me. Every bit of it.”
Mrs. Peacock laughs uncomfortably, “Are you having a go at me?”
“No,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “I want the Black fortune and you are going to give it to me.”
“Mr. Meadow-Brook, I’m not giving you that much money.” Mrs. Peacock says, “You will be compensated for helping me out, but you aren’t getting anywhere near that much money.”
“As a matter of fact I am.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Or we put Vivienne in front of a jury and she explains to them how three men that married you all died mysteriously. You are a very capable liar, Mrs. Peacock.”
“Miles,” Mrs. Peacock shakes her head, “It doesn’t work like that.”
Mr. Meadow-Brook puts up his hand, “How loyal is Vivienne to you right now? You can keep the money you came here with from your murdered husbands. The Black fortune now belongs to me or you will go to prison or hang for murder.”
“You are bluffing,” Mrs. Peacock says
“I am a lawyer, Mrs. Peacock.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “I can make up unbelievable amounts of bullshit that you actually believe. We both know you are a standing murderess. You will be punished for this or you will buy the secret off of me. I know all about your little prostitution ring back when you were a struggling socialite. You found rich old men liked women for their bodies. You wowed them and climbed up the social ladder. All the while climbing this social ladder, your reputation danced on a razor thin line. Every day you feared the rich and noble would discover you were training young escorts.”
“Where the hell did you hear that?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“It’s okay, Mrs. Peacock.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Even if the jury doesn’t find you guilty for murder, your name will still be muddied indefinitely.”
“You don’t understand what you are suggesting.” Mrs. Peacock says
“I’m not suggesting anything,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Do we have an understanding?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Peacock takes a deep breath
“Good,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “My wife and I will be enjoying this garden party with you today. I hope one day we can look past all of this. In fact, once the transfer is complete, we will treat you to dinner at a restaurant of your choice.”
“That sounds…” Mrs. Peacock is still lost for words, “I need to sit down.”
“Don’t sit too long.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “No one likes a lazy hostess. I’ll catch you later. I must try and be social.”
Meanwhile, in the Kitchen of Blackwell Grange, Reverend Green vomits into the sink.
“You better not be getting sick too!” Mrs. White points her narrow boney finger at him, “I’ll be scrubbing the sinks and toilets till next June!”
“I just had a thought of my past.” Reverend Green says, “People keep using the word plague around me ever since I went on a missionary’s trip to darkest Africa.”
“What is it with people in this house and ties to Africa?” Mrs. White mumbles to herself, moving Reverend Green aside and running water in the sink.
“While I was there I met with a large, thriving community that was very invested in hearing more about the Word of God.” Reverend Green says, his voice beginning to tremble, “But then there was a smaller community nearby. Plagues! Flies on the wounded, sick, elderly. Disease and plague were brought to them by the hand of God.”
“Is this a real tale or one of those stories you tell to keep them coming back on Sundays?” asks Mrs. White, skeptically
“As real as the final blast from my shotgun…” Reverend Green’s knees buckle as grips the edge of the counter in agony.
“Vicar, you didn’t!” Mrs. White catches him and helps him to a chair, seeing the seriousness of his trusted confession, “I will always be your loyal confidante!”
“Thank you, Blanche.” Reverend Green grips her hand tearfully.
“Coffee? Tea?” Mrs. White offers
“Do you have anything with seltzer?” Reverend Green asks
“Mr. Clay left a few of his Vimtos.” Mrs. White says
“Water will do,” Reverend Green catches his breath
“You killed those poor villagers because they were plagued and would have spread it.” Mrs. White says
“That’s what I tell myself every night when I am on my knees crying and begging God to forgive me all my trespasses and let me feel peace again.” Reverend Green says, “I stopped the plague and then came here, where Dr. Black made sure I was not plagued.”
“That’s how you and Dr. Black met.” Mrs. White puts her hand over her mouth, “I knew it was out of character for Hugh to befriend a Catholic priest. Oh Vicar, perhaps God still has a plan for me to save another person while my mind is still able.”
“You aren’t well?” asks Reverend Green
Mrs. White turns away from him tearfully and begins cleaning up the Kitchen, “My mind is going, Vicar. I feel it happening. They never tell you about that part. They never tell you how scary it is, knowing that you are getting old and forgetful.”
“My dear, sweet Blanche,” Reverend Green stands up and puts his hands on her shoulder, “You and I will both find peace.”
“I don’t know how much longer I am going to remember things.” Mrs. White says, “Every now and again I have days where I just can’t remember who I am or what I’m doing here or why I’m dressed this way. Other days I am perfectly fine.”
“Perhaps I should stay in the area.” Reverend Green says, “Move into the village outside of Blackwell Grange.”
“Hampshire is a beautiful place.” Mrs. White says, “There is a Cathedral near the clinic where Hugh used to work.”
“I think I remember it,” Reverend Green says, “There was a Reverend Moss there.”
“Pardon,” Mr. Meadow-Brook announces himself from the back door.
“Oh, Mr. Meadow-Brook,” Mrs. White composes herself, as does Reverend Green
“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “I’m just passing through.”
Mr. Meadow-Brook chuckles entering the Hall.
“How much do you suppose he heard?” asks Mrs. White
“I’ll go find out.” Reverend Green follows after him.
In the Billiard Room, Miss Scarlet and Mr. Boddy sit on the barstools, visually apparent they are heavily intoxicated. The terrace doors are open and the autumn breeze ruffles the drapes. The silhouettes of party guests are visible from outside.
“You should go out there and tell them all we are getting married.” Mr. Boddy laughs
“They would get so excited!” Miss Scarlet laughs
“That would make your stepmother so happy.” Mr. Boddy slams another swig beer down his throat, “I can’t wait to watch the bitch fall.”
“You seem to hate my stepmother more than I do.” Miss Scarlet stands up and sits up on the edge of the pool table, across from him. He teasingly rubs her foot along his leg.
“She is so arrogant,” Mr. Boddy says, “She acts as though she is untouchable by the problems of the rest of the world.”
“Oh my god, that is exactly what I hate about her,” Miss Scarlet agrees, “She’s so damn confident about everything.”
“She knows she’ll get her way.” Mr. Boddy says
“So here she sits, the evil queen in her castle.” Miss Scarlet jokes
“Or the black widow in her web.” Mr. Boddy adds on
“All the old busybodies used to call her The Black Widow right after her third husband died.” Miss Scarlet says
“Jesus, how many husbands did she have?” asks Mr. Boddy
“Only the three,” Miss Scarlet says, “But it’s been two years since Sir Peacock died.”
“She married a ‘Sir’.” Mr. Boddy laughs, “How on earth did he manage to earn himself that title?”
“Apparently he and Lord Gray and Dr. Black were all good friends. I’m not entirely sure the story but he did something honorable.” Miss Scarlet shrugs, taking a drink of her cognac.
“That honorable act was in vain the minute he made your stepmother a Peacock.” Mr. Boddy says
Miss Scarlet laughs, “She is horrible. When do you suppose she’ll marry next.”
“The better question is who?” Mr. Boddy says
“Professor Plum is the next likely heir if something were to happen to you.” Miss Scarlet says
“But nothing is going to happen to me,” Mr. Boddy becomes serious, “Right?”
Miss Scarlet leans forward and kisses him on the lips, “Not while I’m around.”
Mr. Boddy hungrily kisses back, running his hand down her back softly. She plays with his hair, sitting in his lap. She reaches over him and hands him his beer. He drinks it eagerly as Miss Scarlet begins to unzip the back of her dress. Mr. Boddy watches intently as the young blonde flashes him a quick show within mere feet of the social gathering outside. Mr. Boddy begins caressing her ample bosom. Lustfully and hungrily Miss Scarlet swoops down to meet his drunken lips with a kiss.
In the meantime, in the Conservatory, Lord Gray rattles on about the structure of the glass while Mrs. Meadow-Brook touches and sniffs every single flower or leaf she encounters.
“What type of plant do you suppose this is?” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “Do you suppose Rusty will be back soon?”
“I think he went to get some fresh air as soon as we entered.” Lord Gray says, “I wouldn’t mind getting some fresh air myself. I could use a cigarette.”
“I haven’t had a cigarette in years.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “Do you suppose they have a cigarette box in here?” she walks over to a small table with a gramophone on it and looks in the drawer, “I found some matches.”
Lord Gray offers her a cigarette from his silver case. She smiles and takes a cigarette as the two walk out of the Conservatory towards the Tennis Courts. She lights hers and offers the book of matches she pinched from the drawer to Lord Gray.
“It’s a quiet day.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “You can hear the ducks. Miles and I used to raise ducks. The latch was broken and we never got it properly fixed and most of the ducks wandered off however. We never did get around to raising ducks again.”
“That’s a bloody awful story.” Lord Gray harrumphs
“I suppose it is a bit morbid.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “I would much rather raise chickens. Surely we could hire Rusty to build a hen house one weekend. I’m sure Mrs. Peacock wouldn’t mind. Rusty would probably love to make a little extra money.”
“Hire a professional if you want it done right.” Lord Gray says
“You are the architect expert.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook points out, “Have you ever designed a hen house?”
“You are asking me to design a hen house?” asks Lord Gray
“If it wouldn’t be any trouble.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says hopefully
“I’ll need some alone time to work on it.” Lord Gray says quickly
“Of course,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says excitedly, “I don’t want to disturb the genius at work. This is going to be so much fun! I always dreamed of having fresh eggs in the mornings for breakfast.”
Mrs. Meadow-Brook trips to her knees.
“Jane, are you alright?” Lord Gray helps Mrs. Meadow-Brook stand up. A concrete Garden Gnome lies on its side by her feet.
“I tripped over the damned Gnome!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook checks her stockings for tears, “I’m okay. They need to put these things farther off the path. I could have broken an arm or twisted my ankle.”
“It’s a good thing you weren’t injured.” Lord Gray says, “I don’t think Mrs. Peacock or Sir Benedict Black could afford to have another injury at Blackwell Grange.”
“Heavens,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “I wasn’t thinking of getting my husband to file an injury. I was merely assessing the situation that having lawn ornaments haphazardly around the estate is only asking for more blood to be shed on these grounds.”
“That’s a very dark statement to make.” Lord Gray turns to her
“It’s what everyone talks about.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “Mrs. Prussian, down the street, says she is used to Blackwell Grange having these ‘incidents’ to occur so drastically and then get swept under the rug within a week.”
“I was here for one of those incidents you speak of.” Lord Gray sighs as they reach the Tennis Courts. He picks up the Tennis Racquet and gives it a few quick swings.
“A murder?” asks Mrs. Meadow-Brook excitedly, “Oh! You simply must tell me more. I adore a good murder.”
“I’d actually like the Tennis Courts to myself for a few moments.” Lord Gray says, “Hitting the ball around the court always helped me plan out architecture. I ought to get started on that hen house.”
“You are such a tease.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook laughs, “I’ll be back later to hear about that murder!”
“I’m certain you will.” Lord Gray picks up a ball and bounces it off the brick wall of the storage shed, “Do you suppose they have a proper squash racquet lying around?”
“I’ll ask Rusty if I see him,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “I have a thing or two to say to him about that Lawn Gnome.”
In her bedroom on the second floor of Blackwell Grange, Miss Peach lays in bed surrounded by worried faces. Reverend Green and Mrs. White hold onto each other in the doorway with Sgt. Gray sits in the chair pulled up to the bed. Dr. Rex Prussian stands in a long white coat, feeling around her stomach.
“You say it started sometime in the middle of the night, possibly an allergic reason to something in the food?” Dr. Prussian asks
“Please just help her.” Sgt. Gray begs, “She is delirious.”
“I’ve never seen something this bad from a food allergy.” Dr. Prussian says, “She didn’t ingest anything toxic?”
“You don’t mean poison?” Sgt. Gray asks
“Something to that nature,” Dr. Prussian says, “I wouldn’t go so far as to say someone is poisoning her.”
Reverend Green, Mrs. White, and Sgt. Gray all exchange glances.
“If she had ingested poison,” Mrs. White chooses her words carefully, “Has she passed the worst of it?”
“That depends on the type of poison.” Dr. Prussian says, “Do you have reason to believe that she could have been poisoned?”
“We have a history of accidental or intended deaths.” Mrs. White says
“I see,” Dr. Prussian nods, “Dr. Black mentioned an incident years and years ago.”
“Oh?” Mrs. White asks
“A visiting royal from Africa was murdered in this very house.” Dr. Prussian says, “During a dinner party, none-the-less.”
“Ah,” Reverend Green nods grimly, “I was there the night King Azure was taken from us.”
“In the case that Miss Peach was poisoned,” Dr. Prussian says, “I would say her vomiting may have saved her life.”
“Who would poison Melba?” asks Sgt. Gray angrily, “She is the sweetest girl in the world.”
“It may not be who she is,” Reverend Green says, “But instead who she is related to.”
Miss Peach lays silent in bed, staring dizzily at the wallpaper. She grips Sgt. Gray’s hand tighter, “Stuart.” She whispers weakly
“Melba, are you alright, my love?” he grips her hand tightly with both hands, staring longingly into her eyes
“I’m feeling much more at ease.” Miss Peach says
“It looks like the numbing syrup has started working.” Dr. Prussian smiles
“Will she be well enough to enjoy the party?” Mrs. White asks
“That is up to her own judgment.” Dr. Prussian says, “Though I would suggest she refrains from drinking alcohol or doing any strenuous activities.”
“She just needs to help a little in the Kitchen.” Mrs. White says
“I’m sure she will manage just fine.” Dr. Prussian says, “Get as much rest as you need. When you feel able you can try walking around and doing normal activities.”
“Thank you,” Miss Peach smiles tiredly from the bed
Reverend Green steps out into the upstairs hallway with Dr. Prussian as he leaves.
“I was wondering if I could bother you for a favor since you are here.” Reverend Green says walking with him towards the top of the stairs.
“Of course, it is no bother at all.” Dr. Prussian says, “What can I do to help you?”
“Check on Sir Benedict.” Reverend Green says, “Whoever may be poisoning Miss Peach may also be poisoning Sir Benedict.”
At the Fountain, between the Swimming Pool and the Gate House, Professor Plum sits silently on the edge staring off at the clouds. Mr. Meadow-Brook comes from the front doors of Blackwell Grange and makes his way around the Garden to where Professor Plum is lost in thought. There is a bound leather notebook and pen on the edge of the Fountain next to Professor Plum. Mr. Meadow-Brook comes over and begins to walk around the Fountain. He picks up a Hammer from the gravel foundation.
“Heavier than I imagined.” Mr. Meadow-Brook hits the Hammer lightly against his hand.
“Oh?” Professor Plum turns his attention to Mr. Meadow-Brook, “I’ll let Rusty know that he didn’t pick up after himself.”
“No need to bother the poor old man.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says handing the Hammer to Professor Plum, “I heard the strangest thing upstairs a minute ago.”
“Upstairs?” Professor Plum stands up and takes his book, “What happened upstairs?”
“Miss Peach has taken quite ill.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Some have reason to believe she is being poisoned.”
“I’m sure everyone is still on edge with my brother’s murder and Yvette’s suicide.” Professor Plum says
“Yes,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “It’s fascinating the amount of deaths that have occurred in the time one family has lived here.”
“Ah but we’ve lived her for four generations.” Professor Plum says, “A lot of servants were dying to illness back when Sir Benedict the First was the man of the house.”
“I’m referring to incidents similar to your brother’s death.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says
“Murder.” Professor Plum says narrowing his eyebrows
“I’ve always been fascinated on the subject.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “How far one person can go until they unlock the urge to end another person’s existence. It must take a lot of strength to actually go through with it.”
“I don’t like to think about it.” Professor Plum says
“Surely not,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Even accidental deaths must take a toll on people.”
Professor Plum grips the Hammer and his book tightly, “If you are even considering bringing up the death of my late wife as an example.”
“Murder is murder.” Mr. Meadow-Brook shrugs
“Who told you about her?” Professor Plum becomes frustrated, “Or is my failure just public knowledge now? I never know how fast bad news travels.”
“Professor,” Mr. Meadow-Brook puts up his hand and chuckles, “You are pitied by the public. They see your wife as a sacrificial hero who is trying to help the world. They see you as the widower who grieves for his lost wife.”
“Then why are you bringing up my past?” asks Professor Plum
“Because I know your wife cheated on you and you drugged her.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Possibly with the same type of drug you used on Miss Peach.”
“You best watch yourself.” Professor Plum points the Hammer at him, “You will not come into my house and question my honor.”
“You are the black sheep of the family.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “You’ll never fit in with them and their insanity. On second thought, you did spend a great deal of time dealing with mental patients.”
“I studied psychology briefly.” Professor Plum says defensively, “Don’t mock my family.”
“My apologies,” Mr. Meadow-Brook nods his head, “Talking ill of your family may have been a bit of a low blow. I still stand with my statement that you are a murderer.”
“What do you hope to prove with this conversation?” asks Professor Plum, “Do you expect me to turn myself in?”
“I expect you to confess you crimes, yes,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Or you could agree to help me and I’ll shut up about it entirely.”
“What type of help do you need?” asks Professor Plum, angrily, yet interested
“I need you to tell me who asked you to poison Miss Peach.” Mr. Meadow-Brook smirks
“Mrs. Peacock.” Professor Plum says without a moment’s hesitation
“Splendid!” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “But I’ve already blackmailed her for everything she has.”
“Jesus, you are greedy.” Professor Plum says, “Everything?”
“All the money left in her possession in Hugh Black’s will.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Jane and I expect to retire and move to the Mediterranean. Perhaps we will buy the Black’s old Villa. I’m sure they would love to earn some of their money back by selling off one of their homes.”
“You are forgetting I am a member of this family.” Professor Plum grips the Hammer even tighter, “Am I to stand here and watch you bankrupt my entire family.”
“Your family?” Mr. Meadow-Brook laughs, “You didn’t know them until recently.”
“It does not deny they are still my family!” Professor Plum becomes angry and approaches Mr. Meadow-Brook, pressing the head of the Hammer against his chest, “I think it would be best for you and your wife to leave.”
“Nonsense,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, grabbing the Hammer from him and tossing it aside into the gravel, “You need to calm down and think of the possibilities. I am willing to look past your troubled past and befriend you.”
“Like hell!” Professor Plum shoves Mr. Meadow-Brook and turns to leave the Fountain, “I better not see you again.”
“Seeing how I am you late brother’s lawyer, you will be seeing me again.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Get used to seeing my face around. In fact, after Mrs. Peacock wires over the money, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me. We will finally be in the same social circle.”
Professor Plum leaves the Fountain, gripping his book fiercely to his chest as he storms off towards the Swimming Pool, where Sir Benedict Black reclines in the sun.
Across the Estate, behind the Stables, Rusty makes his way towards the woods. He is holding a cast-iron Horseshoe. He nervously looks about before venturing into the woods. From the edge of the Garden, Mr. Meadow-Brook exits the Fountain, viewing Rusty’s venture into the woods. Lady Lavender approaches Mr. Meadow-Brook with two glasses of champagne.
“Lady Lavender,” Mr. Meadow-Brook nods, greeting her with a smile, “Is that for me?”
“Yes, it is.” Lady Lavender smiles handing it to him, “Walk with me?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Mr. Meadow-Brook smiles
“I hear you are the lawyer.” Lady Lavender says, “Fascinating line of work. MY eldest brother studied law for seventeen years. He never became a lawyer, however.”
“It’s very mentally taxing,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “I had a full head of grey hair by the time I was forty. By the time I was forty-five most of the hair was thinned out and gone.”
Lady lavender chuckles, “My dear Lawrence was the same. Always stressing and worrying so much over such little things.”
Mr. Meadow-Brook looks across the Garden to where Mrs. Meadow-Brook, Colonel Mustard, and Mrs. Peacock are talking. Mr. Ash serves hors d'oeuvres near the Gazebo.
“I suppose I ought to talk to Mrs. Peacock about some legal things.” Mr. Meadow-Brook politely excuses himself
Lady Lavender watches him head in the opposite direction of Mrs. Peacock. Confused, she walks across the Garden to the three. Colonel Mustard instantly starts fidgeting awkwardly.
“Mrs. Meadow-Brook,” Lady Lavender extends her hand politely
“Lady Lavender, isn’t it? It is a pleasure to finally meet you.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook smiles, “I was just telling Patricia here how wonderful it is to be here at one of these wonderful garden parties.”
“It is a wonderful surprise to have you here.” Mrs. Peacock smiles brightly
“Have you had any of the appetizers that Mr. Ash is serving?” Mrs. Meadow-Brook asks, “They are simply divine! I could eat the whole tray if I didn’t have a little self-control.” She laughs loudly, “Have you seen my husband, Miles?”
“I was just talking with him across the Garden a moment ago,” Lady Lavender says, “He was looking for you,” she turns to Mrs. Peacock
“What could he possibly want?” Mrs. Peacock becomes stressed, “If you will all excuse me for a moment, I must speak with Mr. Meadow-Brook.”
“Don’t let Miles bother you!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “He is always so focused on business. He drives me crazy with all his lawyer-talk. There are always papers scattered all over the Dining Room table.”
“Doesn’t he have his own private Study to clutter up?” asks Colonel Mustard
“We live in a modest home.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “The Dining Room table is as close to a desk he will get outside of the office. He used to stay at the office quite late because he didn’t want to clutter up the house, but I would get very lonely.”
“So now he comes home?” Colonel Mustard smiles politely, obviously bored with Mrs. Meadow-Brook’s personal life.
“Tell me,” Lady Lavender leads Mrs. Meadow-Brook along the hedges with her, Colonel Mustard follows slowly, “Have you any children or grandchild?”
“Sadly,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook’s voice shifts, “Miles and I were never able to have any children. We always dreamed of having children. The doctors told us…” her voice breaks as her eyes fixate of the dark grey stone carvings of the massive structure that is Blackwell Grange, “Excuse me,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook scurries off, turning around the corner of the hedge.
“That was odd.” Lady Lavender walks to Colonel Mustard, “You know an awful lot about everyone… except the Meadow-Brook’s.”
In the woods behind the Stables, Rusty Naylor lays the Horseshoe down on the middle rock.
“Lachlan,” Rusty sighs, “I can’t stop thinking about you. I know it’s that time of the year and I always tend to think about it a lot more… I just want you to know that the monster I became was not really me!” he begins to sob, “It wasn’t really me. Your brothers lied to you and told you what I was. I wasn’t the monster yet. They made me the monster.” He comes down to his knees and places both hands on the horseshoe, “I remember watching you ride those horses. So young, so soft, so sweet…” Rusty stops speaking, “Your brothers had no right to tell you those things, even if they were true. I was in control of myself. They caused me to lose control.” Rusty looks at the two other flat rocks that rest on either side of Lachlan’s rock. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “I didn’t mean to kill your older brother. He came at me and fell. I know what it looked like, but you have to know I didn’t mean for him to break his neck. He was just full of so much hatred and I hadn’t even laid a single finger on you…” Rusty’s voice trails off, “Your other brother tried to be the hero. We were all scared.” Rusty grips his fingers around the Horseshoe, “What I did to you after they were dead was unspeakable. I just loved you so much…”
“You sick bastard.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says in shock from where he has quietly followed behind him
To Be Continued…
“Let him go,” Mr. Green comes behind Captain Brown from the corridor, “He does not deserve an old man’s tears. He was a monster and a murderer. Hugh Black was the one who alerted the authorities when he was on the run.”
“He was a good man.” Captain Brown tightens his lip, “He was surrounded by corrupt, loathsome monsters who exploited him. He never murdered anyone.”
“Is that what he told you?” Mr. Green says with a pitiful laugh
“Believe what you want.” Captain Brown says staring with sternness at Mr. Green, “Hugh Black is dead. You have no idea what my son could have done to save their lives…”
“Lives?” Mr. Green asks
“Murder.” Captain Brown says, “It’s the only thing certain around the Black’s. My son accidentally found out Prince Azure’s darkest secret after he fled Black’s Mediterranean villa.”
“Did he?” asks Mr. Green, “Did he share it with you?”
“I was there in Africa with your uncle when the first murder was committed.” Captain Brown says, “My son came and stayed at the Royal Palace secretly with me.
“You are talking of the first murder?” asks Mr. Green with a raised eyebrow, “Your memory must be slipping.”
“Thirteen years ago Hugh’s mother, Beatrice Black, died of a quick, quiet illness. Ten years ago Margaret and Samuel Boddy disappeared in Africa. Eight years ago my son was framed for a murder he never committed. Five years ago Benedict Black was pronounced dead. He just recently came out as alive.” Captain Brown lists off, “Those incidents triggered so many horrible things. My point is quite simple: what things will be triggered by my son’s sudden and hastily planned murder?”
“Benedict Black was sloppy and careless.” Mr. Green shakes his head in frustration, “I discovered him.”
“Let’s just try our best to keep the dead people dead.” Captain Brown says, “Hugh Black was the devil. There is no greater evil that existed on this earth than Hugh Black and his twisted mind. He framed my son for mass murders and tortured and murdered innocent women. He drugged them, made them go half insane before he’d strip their flesh from their bodies.”
“Amelia Dove was his fiancée.” Mr. Green says, “She is still alive without a scratch on her body.”
“Yes, but how is her mind?” asks Captain Brown
Mr. Green is silent.
“He was preparing for the slaughter.” Captain Brown says closing his eyes, “I miss my son, Lyman.”
“You are grieving.” Mr. Green says, “Get yourself together before Saffron kills you too.”
“Lyman,” Captain Brown says, “Your uncle and I were very close, out of respect for him, I offer you my advice: get the hell out of here before it’s too late.”
“I’m not on your side.” Mr. Green says, “Just because I listened to your stories and let you vent does not change the reason I am here. I’m not going to listen to the things you say about Mr. Saffron and Prince Azure. I know deception better than anyone else. The only reason you are still alive is because Mr. Saffron is a kinder man than I am. I would have slashed your throat and dumped you into the water with your son. I just want to make certain that we are clear. I am not here to save you. I am not here to protect you. I am here to seek answers.”
At Blackwell Grange, Miss Melba Peach lays on the pink settee in the Lounge with a washcloth on her forehead. She moans in pain, gripping at her stomach. Mrs. White stands by her side with Reverend Green and Sergeant Gray.
“I feel dizzy.” Miss Peach says, suddenly panting rapidly, “It’s so hot in here.”
“She looks horrible!” Reverend Green whispers to Mrs. White as he goes to open up a window to allow some breeze for Miss Peach.
“I’m sure it’s just an upset stomach.” Mrs. White says walking over to Reverend Green, who sits on the piano stool.
“It’s so cold in here.” Miss Peach takes the washcloth off her forehead
“You were just hot a second ago.” Reverend Green says from where he just sat down. He gets up with a grunt and closes the window.
“I suppose we should check for a fever.” Mrs. White says, “I’m not sure what else to do
“Melba,” Sergeant Gray smiles at her delicate face, rubbing her cheek lightly, “I’m here with you, darling. You are going to feel better in a few hours and we can enjoy the garden party together.”
“Stuart,” Miss Peach smiles up at him, trying to hold back the pain burning away at her stomach.
“We should call a doctor.” Reverend Green says
“Nurse Silver can’t have gone far.” Mrs. White says
“No,” Reverend Green says, “She needs a doctor.”
“It’s not like she’s carrying the plague!” Mrs. White says
“Will you please stop using that word?” Reverend Green becomes angry, “I’m sorry. Where’s the telephone?”
“I’ll do it,” Mrs. White says, “I’ll see if Dr. Prussian can come by. He used to work with Hugh.”
“Was he at the memorial yesterday?” asks Reverend Green, “I don’t recall him being there. They must not have been that close.”
“He’s dedicated to his work.” Mrs. White says, “He was taking calls yesterday.”
“That’s admirable.” Reverend Green rolls his eyes, “We need someone to come for Melba?”
“Auntie always told me I’d wear pink at my wedding.” Miss Peach stares out the window into the sunlight
“You will.” Sergeant Gray smiles, gripping her hand, “And you’ll be the envy of everyone around.”
“Will your father ever accept me?” asks Miss Peach, wincing again
“I don’t know.” Sergeant Gray’s voice turns sad and quiet, “We don’t need his approval. We’ve been through so much together since the murder of Hugh Black. It affected us both in such a powerful way.”
“I’ve never felt more safe and secure than I did when you kept me safe from Brunette.” Miss Peach says, “He used to be charming, but he never made me feel safe.”
“How did you meet him?” asks Sergeant Gray, “You never like to talk about him.”
“Well,” Miss Peach says painfully and slowly, “I was at an art show. It was at a country mansion after a horse race. I was dressed up in a giant white sunhat and an orange dress with touches of gold and white all throughout. It looked like flames when I walked.”
“I’m sure you were beautiful.” Sergeant Gray says
“Brunette was in the Trophy Room.” Miss Peach says, “He saw me admiring a small bronze horse statuette. He told me that the owner of the house was rich and arrogant and never used half the elaborate rooms in his mansion.”
“Like this house?” Sergeant Gray smiles and looks around
“This is a modest sized mansion.” Miss Peach giggles, “I’ve seen bigger and grander.”
“Please go on with the story.” Sergeant Gray urges her with a smile
“He took me to the Studio of the mansion and…” her voice starts to trails off, “He stole the trophy for me. I didn’t even
notice he pocketed the little bronze horse. He was so charming…” her voice goes silent again, “But he…” she begins to have trouble focusing, “But he was a killer…”
“Melba?” Sergeant Gray feels her body go limp, “Are you okay.”
“Do you think I’ll wear pink at my wedding?” Miss Peach smiles at the blue sky, “I think I will.”
“Mrs. White hurry!” Reverend Green rushes to Miss Peach’s side, “Melba, sweetheart, stay with us.”
“Why do you always sew so slowly?” Miss Peach asks, her eyes fluttering closed
FLASHBACK – 17 YEARS AGO
Young Melba Peach sits on the front porch with her Aunt Honey. Aunt Honey is sewing the hem of a white wedding gown.
“How come Cousin Beth is gettin’ married so young?” Melba asks
“That a mighty bold thing for a nine-year-old to say.” Aunt Honey squints down at the young girl, “You won’t wear something this plain at your wedding!”
“How come?” asks Melba, “I think the laces are purty!”
“Don’t say purty!” Aunt Honey says, “Talk like a lady.”
“Pretty.” Melba corrects
“White is too plain of a color.” Aunt Honey says, “Cousin Beth is blonde and blondes don’t look too good in anything but
white. You are the fair-haired child. You’ll wear pink at your wedding.”
“What if I never find a man to love me true?” Melba says looking down at her feet
“Nonsense, child!” Aunt Honey says, “Men will flock around you from miles away with gems, candies, and roses.”
Miss Peach looks up at the blue sky optimistically, “Do you think I’ll wear pink at my wedding?”
“I think you will.” Aunt Honey says
“Melba!” Sergeant Gray’s voice shakes her from her memory, “Reverend Green help her!”
Miss Peach comes to in the Lounge and immediately begins to shake and tremble.
“Aunt Honey…” Miss Peach shutters out as she begins to convulse in Sergeant Gray’s arms.
“She’s having a seizure!” Reverend Green shouts, “Set her down!”
Sergeant Gray lets go as Miss Peach shakes and sputters on the sofa in the Lounge. She begins vomiting on the rug uncontrollably. Miss Peach goes limp and falls from the sofa to the floor.
“Oh my god!” Sergeant Gray’s hands are trembling in fear, “Melba!”
“Mrs. White! Come quick!” Reverend Green rushes to the Lounge door.
Outside Blackwell Grange, at the croquet field near the tall Ballroom windows, John Boddy sits in a white, wrought-iron chair sipping on a cold glass of lemonade. Miss Scarlet approaches from the Boat House. The autumn breeze blows her long blonde hair and thin red dress sensually. Mr. Boddy takes his eyes off of her, despite her obvious approach.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Miss Scarlet greets him cordially
“Tired.” Mr. Boddy says, retrieving a round pair of sunglasses from his pocket and putting them on.
“May I sit with you?” asks Miss Scarlet
“Do as you please, it’s your house for the next few months.” Mr. Boddy says
“I’m sorry for the way I acted.” Miss Scarlet says, “I was hoping we could talk?”
“I’m not sure I have anything to say to you.” Mr. Boddy says pulling a pocket watch out of his breast pocket.
“I lost both my parents when I was young.” Miss Scarlet stares off at the balls and mallets laying in the grass. She reaches
over for the glass pitcher of lemonade and pours some into an empty glass, “Your parents and my parents were very special. They truly loved each other.”
“You know nothing about my parents.” Mr. Boddy says, “Don’t try and reach out to me by using my dead parents as leverage.”
“I wasn’t trying to,” Miss Scarlet’s voice goes soft, she takes a sip, “No one else can relate to me because no one else had a happy life before their parents died. Everyone that I have talked to has been unhappy and angry when they should have been happy. They take it for granted. You are only unhappy because of what happened to your family.”
“Yes,” Mr. Boddy shrugs, “I’m mad as hell because my parents are dead. Forgive me for hating the Colonel… the bloody man who was sent to bring them back to me!”
“Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be happy again.” Miss Scarlet says
“There is no doubt that you will find happiness again,” Mr. Boddy says running his fingers along the chain of the pocket watch, “Pretty girls like you always get their way.”
“Not this pretty girl.” Miss Scarlet finishes her lemonade, “I need something stronger. Care for a drink?”
“I don’t drink.” Mr. Boddy says
“Well you need one.” Miss Scarlet says, “Come to the Billiard Room with me.”
“Why?” Mr. Boddy asks
“Because I really need a friend right now and so do you.” Miss Scarlet says
“How do I know that you aren’t just trying to trick me for your stepmother’s sake?” Mr. Boddy asks
“I don’t associate myself with that bitch anymore.” Miss Scarlet says
“Since when?” asks Mr. Boddy
“Since I realized that she is just using me as an attractive bargaining chip.” Miss Scarlet says, “Why else did she not give me up for adoption after my father died.”
“I feel like the only reason Uncle Hugh kept me around was because he didn’t have any children of his own to inherit.” Mr. Boddy says, “But I was hardly ever here at Blackwell Grange.”
“Boarding schools?” Miss Scarlet asks
“He would send me away and when I came back on holiday Mrs. White was the only one I’d ever see.” Mr. Boddy says,
“Mrs. White was more of a mother to me than my own mother was.”
“Your mother loved you.” Miss Scarlet says
“Tell me, did you know my mother well?” asks Mr. Boddy
“I barely knew her.” Miss Scarlet says
“Then don’t pretend that you knew how she felt about me.” Mr. Boddy says, “My mother was always gone. She was the face of the Black family. She joined the Black’s with the Boddy’s. Two filthy rich families with way too much money and way too much time on their hands.”
“You need to get away from these people.” Miss Scarlet says lowering her voice slightly
“I’m heir.” Mr. Boddy says
“I know that.” Miss Scarlet says, “Cut them all off if you know what’s best for you. The staff, the colonel, the professor, my stepmother, just cut them all out of your life.” Miss Scarlet clenches her hands tightly around her glass of lemonade.
“What about you?” asks Mr. Boddy, “I assume you are implying that I keep you in my life and not cut you out either?”
“John, I have so much money,” Miss Scarlet says, “I don’t need to steal the Black fortune.”
“I don’t know what you could expect to gain from insisting that I cut everyone off.” Mr. Boddy takes off his sunglasses and looks Miss Scarlet in the eyes
“Satisfaction,” Miss Scarlet takes a gulp of her lemonade, “In doing so, I feel as though I am freeing myself from the past. Maybe watching you cut everyone out will give me the courage to do the same.”
“What do you suppose grandfather and Uncle Peter will think?” asks Mr. Boddy
“People will get angry and times may be stressful shortly after cutting them out.” Miss Scarlet says, “But I would much rather suffer through a few months of agony than endure a lifetime of freeloaders and self-centered aristocrats. I would rather see the gardens and fountains overrun with thorns and cracks than watch these people walk around with no remorse for the wickedness they carry around.”
“You seem so self-aware.” Mr. Boddy says, “What if we appear to give your stepmother what she wants?”
“What do you mean?” asks Miss Scarlet
“Do you suppose pretending we were in love would keep your stepmother from planning and scheming?” Mr. Boddy says,
“If she thinks you are still on her side, luring me?”
“I could make believe for a little while.” Miss Scarlet says, “How long do you suggest we keep up the charade?”
“At least until I inherit.” Mr. Boddy says, “Then I can cut them off and live my life.”
In the Garden, outside the front of Blackwell Grange, Mrs. Peacock stands with Lord Gray. They spot Mr. and Mrs. Meadow-Brook coming through the Gate House.
“Oh please tell me that is not who I think it is!” Lord Gray clucks in disgust
“Oh be nice!” Mrs. Peacock playfully swats his arm, “I thought it would be nice to invite her. She doesn’t get invited to many social events anymore.”
“I wonder why.” Lord Gray says
“Hello! Hello!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook chirps as she approaches with her husband, “Beautiful day for a garden party. I said to Miles yesterday how fun it would be to get to see Blackwell Grange again and now here we are. I actually did come by last week and dropped off some baked goods: some cookies, muffins, biscuits, a couple fresh loaves of bread. I didn’t actually make the bread. I picked it up with the preserves and cheeses on the way over. All the rolls and sweets were homemade however. Mrs. White was the one who received them. I do hope everyone got to taste them. I only got to see the inside of the Kitchen for a little bit. I’m sure you’ve done wonderful things with the rest of the house.”
“Lord Gray will have to give you the tour.” Mrs. Peacock says, “He is an architect expert. I’m sure he will answer all your questions about the doorframes, stained glass, and buttresses.”
“Oh! How splendid!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook claps her hands enthusiastically
Lord Gray feigns a big smile.
“I suppose we might get a moment to talk?” asks Mr. Meadow-Brook
“Of course,” Mrs. Peacock says, “I’m sure they’d love to get to the tour of the house!”
Mrs. Meadow-Brook and Lord Gray walk off as Mrs. Peacock chuckles.
“Jane will talk his ear off all day.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says
“That was the plan.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Lord Gray was giving Mr. Ash and Mrs. White trouble all last night with his rooming accommodations.”
“I hate to jump straight to the serious part of today,” Mr. Meadow-Brook clears his throat
“Is something wrong?” Mrs. Peacock notices Mr. Meadow-Brook’s mood shift
“Did you happen to get ahold of the accountant, Mr. Slate-Grey?” Mr. Meadow-Brook asks
“Oh yes,” Mrs. Peacock says, “I have full access to the funds.”
“Wonderful.” Mr. Meadow-Brook smiles in relief, “Then I hope you wouldn’t mind giving it all to me.”
Mrs. Peacock laughs, “Are we putting it somewhere secret to hide from Benedict and John?”
“No,” Mr. Meadow-Brook shakes his head, “You are giving it all to me. Every bit of it.”
Mrs. Peacock laughs uncomfortably, “Are you having a go at me?”
“No,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “I want the Black fortune and you are going to give it to me.”
“Mr. Meadow-Brook, I’m not giving you that much money.” Mrs. Peacock says, “You will be compensated for helping me out, but you aren’t getting anywhere near that much money.”
“As a matter of fact I am.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Or we put Vivienne in front of a jury and she explains to them how three men that married you all died mysteriously. You are a very capable liar, Mrs. Peacock.”
“Miles,” Mrs. Peacock shakes her head, “It doesn’t work like that.”
Mr. Meadow-Brook puts up his hand, “How loyal is Vivienne to you right now? You can keep the money you came here with from your murdered husbands. The Black fortune now belongs to me or you will go to prison or hang for murder.”
“You are bluffing,” Mrs. Peacock says
“I am a lawyer, Mrs. Peacock.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “I can make up unbelievable amounts of bullshit that you actually believe. We both know you are a standing murderess. You will be punished for this or you will buy the secret off of me. I know all about your little prostitution ring back when you were a struggling socialite. You found rich old men liked women for their bodies. You wowed them and climbed up the social ladder. All the while climbing this social ladder, your reputation danced on a razor thin line. Every day you feared the rich and noble would discover you were training young escorts.”
“Where the hell did you hear that?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“It’s okay, Mrs. Peacock.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Even if the jury doesn’t find you guilty for murder, your name will still be muddied indefinitely.”
“You don’t understand what you are suggesting.” Mrs. Peacock says
“I’m not suggesting anything,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Do we have an understanding?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Peacock takes a deep breath
“Good,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “My wife and I will be enjoying this garden party with you today. I hope one day we can look past all of this. In fact, once the transfer is complete, we will treat you to dinner at a restaurant of your choice.”
“That sounds…” Mrs. Peacock is still lost for words, “I need to sit down.”
“Don’t sit too long.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “No one likes a lazy hostess. I’ll catch you later. I must try and be social.”
Meanwhile, in the Kitchen of Blackwell Grange, Reverend Green vomits into the sink.
“You better not be getting sick too!” Mrs. White points her narrow boney finger at him, “I’ll be scrubbing the sinks and toilets till next June!”
“I just had a thought of my past.” Reverend Green says, “People keep using the word plague around me ever since I went on a missionary’s trip to darkest Africa.”
“What is it with people in this house and ties to Africa?” Mrs. White mumbles to herself, moving Reverend Green aside and running water in the sink.
“While I was there I met with a large, thriving community that was very invested in hearing more about the Word of God.” Reverend Green says, his voice beginning to tremble, “But then there was a smaller community nearby. Plagues! Flies on the wounded, sick, elderly. Disease and plague were brought to them by the hand of God.”
“Is this a real tale or one of those stories you tell to keep them coming back on Sundays?” asks Mrs. White, skeptically
“As real as the final blast from my shotgun…” Reverend Green’s knees buckle as grips the edge of the counter in agony.
“Vicar, you didn’t!” Mrs. White catches him and helps him to a chair, seeing the seriousness of his trusted confession, “I will always be your loyal confidante!”
“Thank you, Blanche.” Reverend Green grips her hand tearfully.
“Coffee? Tea?” Mrs. White offers
“Do you have anything with seltzer?” Reverend Green asks
“Mr. Clay left a few of his Vimtos.” Mrs. White says
“Water will do,” Reverend Green catches his breath
“You killed those poor villagers because they were plagued and would have spread it.” Mrs. White says
“That’s what I tell myself every night when I am on my knees crying and begging God to forgive me all my trespasses and let me feel peace again.” Reverend Green says, “I stopped the plague and then came here, where Dr. Black made sure I was not plagued.”
“That’s how you and Dr. Black met.” Mrs. White puts her hand over her mouth, “I knew it was out of character for Hugh to befriend a Catholic priest. Oh Vicar, perhaps God still has a plan for me to save another person while my mind is still able.”
“You aren’t well?” asks Reverend Green
Mrs. White turns away from him tearfully and begins cleaning up the Kitchen, “My mind is going, Vicar. I feel it happening. They never tell you about that part. They never tell you how scary it is, knowing that you are getting old and forgetful.”
“My dear, sweet Blanche,” Reverend Green stands up and puts his hands on her shoulder, “You and I will both find peace.”
“I don’t know how much longer I am going to remember things.” Mrs. White says, “Every now and again I have days where I just can’t remember who I am or what I’m doing here or why I’m dressed this way. Other days I am perfectly fine.”
“Perhaps I should stay in the area.” Reverend Green says, “Move into the village outside of Blackwell Grange.”
“Hampshire is a beautiful place.” Mrs. White says, “There is a Cathedral near the clinic where Hugh used to work.”
“I think I remember it,” Reverend Green says, “There was a Reverend Moss there.”
“Pardon,” Mr. Meadow-Brook announces himself from the back door.
“Oh, Mr. Meadow-Brook,” Mrs. White composes herself, as does Reverend Green
“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “I’m just passing through.”
Mr. Meadow-Brook chuckles entering the Hall.
“How much do you suppose he heard?” asks Mrs. White
“I’ll go find out.” Reverend Green follows after him.
In the Billiard Room, Miss Scarlet and Mr. Boddy sit on the barstools, visually apparent they are heavily intoxicated. The terrace doors are open and the autumn breeze ruffles the drapes. The silhouettes of party guests are visible from outside.
“You should go out there and tell them all we are getting married.” Mr. Boddy laughs
“They would get so excited!” Miss Scarlet laughs
“That would make your stepmother so happy.” Mr. Boddy slams another swig beer down his throat, “I can’t wait to watch the bitch fall.”
“You seem to hate my stepmother more than I do.” Miss Scarlet stands up and sits up on the edge of the pool table, across from him. He teasingly rubs her foot along his leg.
“She is so arrogant,” Mr. Boddy says, “She acts as though she is untouchable by the problems of the rest of the world.”
“Oh my god, that is exactly what I hate about her,” Miss Scarlet agrees, “She’s so damn confident about everything.”
“She knows she’ll get her way.” Mr. Boddy says
“So here she sits, the evil queen in her castle.” Miss Scarlet jokes
“Or the black widow in her web.” Mr. Boddy adds on
“All the old busybodies used to call her The Black Widow right after her third husband died.” Miss Scarlet says
“Jesus, how many husbands did she have?” asks Mr. Boddy
“Only the three,” Miss Scarlet says, “But it’s been two years since Sir Peacock died.”
“She married a ‘Sir’.” Mr. Boddy laughs, “How on earth did he manage to earn himself that title?”
“Apparently he and Lord Gray and Dr. Black were all good friends. I’m not entirely sure the story but he did something honorable.” Miss Scarlet shrugs, taking a drink of her cognac.
“That honorable act was in vain the minute he made your stepmother a Peacock.” Mr. Boddy says
Miss Scarlet laughs, “She is horrible. When do you suppose she’ll marry next.”
“The better question is who?” Mr. Boddy says
“Professor Plum is the next likely heir if something were to happen to you.” Miss Scarlet says
“But nothing is going to happen to me,” Mr. Boddy becomes serious, “Right?”
Miss Scarlet leans forward and kisses him on the lips, “Not while I’m around.”
Mr. Boddy hungrily kisses back, running his hand down her back softly. She plays with his hair, sitting in his lap. She reaches over him and hands him his beer. He drinks it eagerly as Miss Scarlet begins to unzip the back of her dress. Mr. Boddy watches intently as the young blonde flashes him a quick show within mere feet of the social gathering outside. Mr. Boddy begins caressing her ample bosom. Lustfully and hungrily Miss Scarlet swoops down to meet his drunken lips with a kiss.
In the meantime, in the Conservatory, Lord Gray rattles on about the structure of the glass while Mrs. Meadow-Brook touches and sniffs every single flower or leaf she encounters.
“What type of plant do you suppose this is?” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “Do you suppose Rusty will be back soon?”
“I think he went to get some fresh air as soon as we entered.” Lord Gray says, “I wouldn’t mind getting some fresh air myself. I could use a cigarette.”
“I haven’t had a cigarette in years.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “Do you suppose they have a cigarette box in here?” she walks over to a small table with a gramophone on it and looks in the drawer, “I found some matches.”
Lord Gray offers her a cigarette from his silver case. She smiles and takes a cigarette as the two walk out of the Conservatory towards the Tennis Courts. She lights hers and offers the book of matches she pinched from the drawer to Lord Gray.
“It’s a quiet day.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “You can hear the ducks. Miles and I used to raise ducks. The latch was broken and we never got it properly fixed and most of the ducks wandered off however. We never did get around to raising ducks again.”
“That’s a bloody awful story.” Lord Gray harrumphs
“I suppose it is a bit morbid.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “I would much rather raise chickens. Surely we could hire Rusty to build a hen house one weekend. I’m sure Mrs. Peacock wouldn’t mind. Rusty would probably love to make a little extra money.”
“Hire a professional if you want it done right.” Lord Gray says
“You are the architect expert.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook points out, “Have you ever designed a hen house?”
“You are asking me to design a hen house?” asks Lord Gray
“If it wouldn’t be any trouble.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says hopefully
“I’ll need some alone time to work on it.” Lord Gray says quickly
“Of course,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says excitedly, “I don’t want to disturb the genius at work. This is going to be so much fun! I always dreamed of having fresh eggs in the mornings for breakfast.”
Mrs. Meadow-Brook trips to her knees.
“Jane, are you alright?” Lord Gray helps Mrs. Meadow-Brook stand up. A concrete Garden Gnome lies on its side by her feet.
“I tripped over the damned Gnome!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook checks her stockings for tears, “I’m okay. They need to put these things farther off the path. I could have broken an arm or twisted my ankle.”
“It’s a good thing you weren’t injured.” Lord Gray says, “I don’t think Mrs. Peacock or Sir Benedict Black could afford to have another injury at Blackwell Grange.”
“Heavens,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “I wasn’t thinking of getting my husband to file an injury. I was merely assessing the situation that having lawn ornaments haphazardly around the estate is only asking for more blood to be shed on these grounds.”
“That’s a very dark statement to make.” Lord Gray turns to her
“It’s what everyone talks about.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “Mrs. Prussian, down the street, says she is used to Blackwell Grange having these ‘incidents’ to occur so drastically and then get swept under the rug within a week.”
“I was here for one of those incidents you speak of.” Lord Gray sighs as they reach the Tennis Courts. He picks up the Tennis Racquet and gives it a few quick swings.
“A murder?” asks Mrs. Meadow-Brook excitedly, “Oh! You simply must tell me more. I adore a good murder.”
“I’d actually like the Tennis Courts to myself for a few moments.” Lord Gray says, “Hitting the ball around the court always helped me plan out architecture. I ought to get started on that hen house.”
“You are such a tease.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook laughs, “I’ll be back later to hear about that murder!”
“I’m certain you will.” Lord Gray picks up a ball and bounces it off the brick wall of the storage shed, “Do you suppose they have a proper squash racquet lying around?”
“I’ll ask Rusty if I see him,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “I have a thing or two to say to him about that Lawn Gnome.”
In her bedroom on the second floor of Blackwell Grange, Miss Peach lays in bed surrounded by worried faces. Reverend Green and Mrs. White hold onto each other in the doorway with Sgt. Gray sits in the chair pulled up to the bed. Dr. Rex Prussian stands in a long white coat, feeling around her stomach.
“You say it started sometime in the middle of the night, possibly an allergic reason to something in the food?” Dr. Prussian asks
“Please just help her.” Sgt. Gray begs, “She is delirious.”
“I’ve never seen something this bad from a food allergy.” Dr. Prussian says, “She didn’t ingest anything toxic?”
“You don’t mean poison?” Sgt. Gray asks
“Something to that nature,” Dr. Prussian says, “I wouldn’t go so far as to say someone is poisoning her.”
Reverend Green, Mrs. White, and Sgt. Gray all exchange glances.
“If she had ingested poison,” Mrs. White chooses her words carefully, “Has she passed the worst of it?”
“That depends on the type of poison.” Dr. Prussian says, “Do you have reason to believe that she could have been poisoned?”
“We have a history of accidental or intended deaths.” Mrs. White says
“I see,” Dr. Prussian nods, “Dr. Black mentioned an incident years and years ago.”
“Oh?” Mrs. White asks
“A visiting royal from Africa was murdered in this very house.” Dr. Prussian says, “During a dinner party, none-the-less.”
“Ah,” Reverend Green nods grimly, “I was there the night King Azure was taken from us.”
“In the case that Miss Peach was poisoned,” Dr. Prussian says, “I would say her vomiting may have saved her life.”
“Who would poison Melba?” asks Sgt. Gray angrily, “She is the sweetest girl in the world.”
“It may not be who she is,” Reverend Green says, “But instead who she is related to.”
Miss Peach lays silent in bed, staring dizzily at the wallpaper. She grips Sgt. Gray’s hand tighter, “Stuart.” She whispers weakly
“Melba, are you alright, my love?” he grips her hand tightly with both hands, staring longingly into her eyes
“I’m feeling much more at ease.” Miss Peach says
“It looks like the numbing syrup has started working.” Dr. Prussian smiles
“Will she be well enough to enjoy the party?” Mrs. White asks
“That is up to her own judgment.” Dr. Prussian says, “Though I would suggest she refrains from drinking alcohol or doing any strenuous activities.”
“She just needs to help a little in the Kitchen.” Mrs. White says
“I’m sure she will manage just fine.” Dr. Prussian says, “Get as much rest as you need. When you feel able you can try walking around and doing normal activities.”
“Thank you,” Miss Peach smiles tiredly from the bed
Reverend Green steps out into the upstairs hallway with Dr. Prussian as he leaves.
“I was wondering if I could bother you for a favor since you are here.” Reverend Green says walking with him towards the top of the stairs.
“Of course, it is no bother at all.” Dr. Prussian says, “What can I do to help you?”
“Check on Sir Benedict.” Reverend Green says, “Whoever may be poisoning Miss Peach may also be poisoning Sir Benedict.”
At the Fountain, between the Swimming Pool and the Gate House, Professor Plum sits silently on the edge staring off at the clouds. Mr. Meadow-Brook comes from the front doors of Blackwell Grange and makes his way around the Garden to where Professor Plum is lost in thought. There is a bound leather notebook and pen on the edge of the Fountain next to Professor Plum. Mr. Meadow-Brook comes over and begins to walk around the Fountain. He picks up a Hammer from the gravel foundation.
“Heavier than I imagined.” Mr. Meadow-Brook hits the Hammer lightly against his hand.
“Oh?” Professor Plum turns his attention to Mr. Meadow-Brook, “I’ll let Rusty know that he didn’t pick up after himself.”
“No need to bother the poor old man.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says handing the Hammer to Professor Plum, “I heard the strangest thing upstairs a minute ago.”
“Upstairs?” Professor Plum stands up and takes his book, “What happened upstairs?”
“Miss Peach has taken quite ill.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Some have reason to believe she is being poisoned.”
“I’m sure everyone is still on edge with my brother’s murder and Yvette’s suicide.” Professor Plum says
“Yes,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “It’s fascinating the amount of deaths that have occurred in the time one family has lived here.”
“Ah but we’ve lived her for four generations.” Professor Plum says, “A lot of servants were dying to illness back when Sir Benedict the First was the man of the house.”
“I’m referring to incidents similar to your brother’s death.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says
“Murder.” Professor Plum says narrowing his eyebrows
“I’ve always been fascinated on the subject.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “How far one person can go until they unlock the urge to end another person’s existence. It must take a lot of strength to actually go through with it.”
“I don’t like to think about it.” Professor Plum says
“Surely not,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Even accidental deaths must take a toll on people.”
Professor Plum grips the Hammer and his book tightly, “If you are even considering bringing up the death of my late wife as an example.”
“Murder is murder.” Mr. Meadow-Brook shrugs
“Who told you about her?” Professor Plum becomes frustrated, “Or is my failure just public knowledge now? I never know how fast bad news travels.”
“Professor,” Mr. Meadow-Brook puts up his hand and chuckles, “You are pitied by the public. They see your wife as a sacrificial hero who is trying to help the world. They see you as the widower who grieves for his lost wife.”
“Then why are you bringing up my past?” asks Professor Plum
“Because I know your wife cheated on you and you drugged her.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Possibly with the same type of drug you used on Miss Peach.”
“You best watch yourself.” Professor Plum points the Hammer at him, “You will not come into my house and question my honor.”
“You are the black sheep of the family.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “You’ll never fit in with them and their insanity. On second thought, you did spend a great deal of time dealing with mental patients.”
“I studied psychology briefly.” Professor Plum says defensively, “Don’t mock my family.”
“My apologies,” Mr. Meadow-Brook nods his head, “Talking ill of your family may have been a bit of a low blow. I still stand with my statement that you are a murderer.”
“What do you hope to prove with this conversation?” asks Professor Plum, “Do you expect me to turn myself in?”
“I expect you to confess you crimes, yes,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Or you could agree to help me and I’ll shut up about it entirely.”
“What type of help do you need?” asks Professor Plum, angrily, yet interested
“I need you to tell me who asked you to poison Miss Peach.” Mr. Meadow-Brook smirks
“Mrs. Peacock.” Professor Plum says without a moment’s hesitation
“Splendid!” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “But I’ve already blackmailed her for everything she has.”
“Jesus, you are greedy.” Professor Plum says, “Everything?”
“All the money left in her possession in Hugh Black’s will.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Jane and I expect to retire and move to the Mediterranean. Perhaps we will buy the Black’s old Villa. I’m sure they would love to earn some of their money back by selling off one of their homes.”
“You are forgetting I am a member of this family.” Professor Plum grips the Hammer even tighter, “Am I to stand here and watch you bankrupt my entire family.”
“Your family?” Mr. Meadow-Brook laughs, “You didn’t know them until recently.”
“It does not deny they are still my family!” Professor Plum becomes angry and approaches Mr. Meadow-Brook, pressing the head of the Hammer against his chest, “I think it would be best for you and your wife to leave.”
“Nonsense,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, grabbing the Hammer from him and tossing it aside into the gravel, “You need to calm down and think of the possibilities. I am willing to look past your troubled past and befriend you.”
“Like hell!” Professor Plum shoves Mr. Meadow-Brook and turns to leave the Fountain, “I better not see you again.”
“Seeing how I am you late brother’s lawyer, you will be seeing me again.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Get used to seeing my face around. In fact, after Mrs. Peacock wires over the money, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me. We will finally be in the same social circle.”
Professor Plum leaves the Fountain, gripping his book fiercely to his chest as he storms off towards the Swimming Pool, where Sir Benedict Black reclines in the sun.
Across the Estate, behind the Stables, Rusty makes his way towards the woods. He is holding a cast-iron Horseshoe. He nervously looks about before venturing into the woods. From the edge of the Garden, Mr. Meadow-Brook exits the Fountain, viewing Rusty’s venture into the woods. Lady Lavender approaches Mr. Meadow-Brook with two glasses of champagne.
“Lady Lavender,” Mr. Meadow-Brook nods, greeting her with a smile, “Is that for me?”
“Yes, it is.” Lady Lavender smiles handing it to him, “Walk with me?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Mr. Meadow-Brook smiles
“I hear you are the lawyer.” Lady Lavender says, “Fascinating line of work. MY eldest brother studied law for seventeen years. He never became a lawyer, however.”
“It’s very mentally taxing,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “I had a full head of grey hair by the time I was forty. By the time I was forty-five most of the hair was thinned out and gone.”
Lady lavender chuckles, “My dear Lawrence was the same. Always stressing and worrying so much over such little things.”
Mr. Meadow-Brook looks across the Garden to where Mrs. Meadow-Brook, Colonel Mustard, and Mrs. Peacock are talking. Mr. Ash serves hors d'oeuvres near the Gazebo.
“I suppose I ought to talk to Mrs. Peacock about some legal things.” Mr. Meadow-Brook politely excuses himself
Lady Lavender watches him head in the opposite direction of Mrs. Peacock. Confused, she walks across the Garden to the three. Colonel Mustard instantly starts fidgeting awkwardly.
“Mrs. Meadow-Brook,” Lady Lavender extends her hand politely
“Lady Lavender, isn’t it? It is a pleasure to finally meet you.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook smiles, “I was just telling Patricia here how wonderful it is to be here at one of these wonderful garden parties.”
“It is a wonderful surprise to have you here.” Mrs. Peacock smiles brightly
“Have you had any of the appetizers that Mr. Ash is serving?” Mrs. Meadow-Brook asks, “They are simply divine! I could eat the whole tray if I didn’t have a little self-control.” She laughs loudly, “Have you seen my husband, Miles?”
“I was just talking with him across the Garden a moment ago,” Lady Lavender says, “He was looking for you,” she turns to Mrs. Peacock
“What could he possibly want?” Mrs. Peacock becomes stressed, “If you will all excuse me for a moment, I must speak with Mr. Meadow-Brook.”
“Don’t let Miles bother you!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “He is always so focused on business. He drives me crazy with all his lawyer-talk. There are always papers scattered all over the Dining Room table.”
“Doesn’t he have his own private Study to clutter up?” asks Colonel Mustard
“We live in a modest home.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “The Dining Room table is as close to a desk he will get outside of the office. He used to stay at the office quite late because he didn’t want to clutter up the house, but I would get very lonely.”
“So now he comes home?” Colonel Mustard smiles politely, obviously bored with Mrs. Meadow-Brook’s personal life.
“Tell me,” Lady Lavender leads Mrs. Meadow-Brook along the hedges with her, Colonel Mustard follows slowly, “Have you any children or grandchild?”
“Sadly,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook’s voice shifts, “Miles and I were never able to have any children. We always dreamed of having children. The doctors told us…” her voice breaks as her eyes fixate of the dark grey stone carvings of the massive structure that is Blackwell Grange, “Excuse me,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook scurries off, turning around the corner of the hedge.
“That was odd.” Lady Lavender walks to Colonel Mustard, “You know an awful lot about everyone… except the Meadow-Brook’s.”
In the woods behind the Stables, Rusty Naylor lays the Horseshoe down on the middle rock.
“Lachlan,” Rusty sighs, “I can’t stop thinking about you. I know it’s that time of the year and I always tend to think about it a lot more… I just want you to know that the monster I became was not really me!” he begins to sob, “It wasn’t really me. Your brothers lied to you and told you what I was. I wasn’t the monster yet. They made me the monster.” He comes down to his knees and places both hands on the horseshoe, “I remember watching you ride those horses. So young, so soft, so sweet…” Rusty stops speaking, “Your brothers had no right to tell you those things, even if they were true. I was in control of myself. They caused me to lose control.” Rusty looks at the two other flat rocks that rest on either side of Lachlan’s rock. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “I didn’t mean to kill your older brother. He came at me and fell. I know what it looked like, but you have to know I didn’t mean for him to break his neck. He was just full of so much hatred and I hadn’t even laid a single finger on you…” Rusty’s voice trails off, “Your other brother tried to be the hero. We were all scared.” Rusty grips his fingers around the Horseshoe, “What I did to you after they were dead was unspeakable. I just loved you so much…”
“You sick bastard.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says in shock from where he has quietly followed behind him
To Be Continued…