Episode 2.06 “The Color of Murder” Part 2
In the Billiard Room, Miss Vivienne Scarlet watches as Dr. Rex Prussian takes the winning shot in their game.
“Well,” Dr. Prussian smiles, greedily, “It looks like I won.”
“Indeed you have.” Miss Scarlet says as Lord Gray and Sgt. Gray barge into the room.
“I just don’t understand your persistence to defy me!” Lord Gray continues to berate his son as they enter the occupied
room. Lord Gray takes notice of Dr. Prussian and Miss Scarlet and changes his tone, “I am very sorry. My son was just being childish and irresponsible.”
“Father, I love Melba!” Sgt. Gray stomps his foot angrily, “You need to come to terms that I can be with any woman I choose!”
“Meet me in the Boat House after your game.” Miss Scarlet whispers to Dr. Prussian with a wink as she leaves the Billiard Room via the French Doors to the Terrace. She can be seen through the drapes as she looks over the Tennis Courts, before making her way off the Terrace and into the great lawn behind Blackwell Grange.
“Lord Gray.” Dr. Prussian turns from where Miss Scarlet left him and shakes Lord Gray’s hand firmly
“Have we met?” asks Lord Gray, squinting at the man
“No I do not believe we have had the pleasure of meeting.” Dr. Prussian says, “I am an old colleague of Hugh’s.”
“Ah!” Lord Gray nods, “Do you know Dr. Kell and Mr. Masque?”
Dr. Prussian thinks for a moment, “I can’t seem to recall hearing those names.”
“Well, I’m sure it will be a pleasure to have you here anyway.” Lord Gray says, shrugging, “Is this your first time visiting Blackwell Grange?”
“Father, we haven’t finished talking.” Sgt. Gray steps forward and places his hands on the edge of the billiard table, gripping it with frustration, “You cannot keep treating Melba this way.”
“Christ, you met this girl less than a month ago and you two are already madly in love. Romeo and Juliette fell in love quickly and look what happened to them. Run along, Stuart.” Lord Gray says, “Go see if you can befriend Miss Scarlet. She is the type of girl you should be associating yourself with. Not that cheap, American trash. I know she is foreign to you and seems appealing, as do you to her, but she is a waste of your time. You are not going to be slowed down by some farm girl that reeks of manure and obstinate opinions.”
Sgt. Gray angrily exits the Billiard Room and off onto the Terrace.
“Tell me,” Dr. Prussian smirks, “Are you a gambling man?”
“That depends on what is on the table.” Lord Gray says with interest, smoothing his hands along the billiard table. He removes the large diamond ring from his pink and places it on the edge of the table, “Can you match me?”
“You are confident you are going to win?” Dr. Prussian smirks
“I grew up with a billiard table, a deceased mother, and an absent father who was always working.” Lord Gray says, “I know my way around a Billiard Room.”
At the back door of Blackwell Grange, Miss Peach makes her way from the Swimming Pool to the servant’s door to the Kitchen. Mr. Meadow-Brook makes his way around Blackwell Grange and nearly knocks Miss Peach right off the stepping stones.
“I am terribly sorry.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says
Miss Peach grabs Mr. Meadow-Brook tightly by the arm, digging her long fingernails into his skin, “Don’t you dare walk away from me!”
“Melba, please, I…”
“You left me with so many questions! What do you know about my family?” Miss Peach says angrily, “I need to know what you know about my grandmother.”
“Miss Peach,” Mr. Meadow-Brook tries to pull away from her, causing her to dig her nails deeper into his arm.
“Tell me what you know about my grandmother!” Miss Peach says tightening her grip on his arm
“Get your goddamn hands off of me!” Mr. Meadow-Brook shakes her wrist fiercely, “You are as crazy as the rest of them!”
“You can’t tell someone you know something serious about their past and then leave them wondering without a single explanation.” Miss Peach pulls her hand off his arm, scratching him in the process, “You told me you knew something about my grandmother and then you disappeared. Tell me what is going on before I have Mrs. Peacock remove you from Blackwell Grange permanently.”
“Melba,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, holding up his hands and looking around nervously, “You don’t understand. I cannot talk to you about this right now. Whatever you do, you cannot go to Mrs. Peacock about this.”
“I’m not the sweet little Southern Belle everyone thinks I am. Tell me or I’ll tan your hide.” Miss Peach narrows her eyes
Mr. Meadow-Brook tightens his fists in frustration, “Your grandmother was clinically insane. She was mentally insane and did mentally insane things to her family. You have been lied to about your family history. Blackwell Grange is not your family legacy. It was a mere mental hospital some-twenty-years-ago. But it was not an ethical mental hospital. It was family run. No one was ever helped, they were just different.” his voice slows down
“Mr. Meadow-Brook, you aren’t making any sense.” Miss Peach is struck with confusion at the sudden outburst of information from Mr. Meadow-Brook
“Shut up, just shut up!” Mr. Meadow-Brook grabs Miss Peach by the shoulders, “Everything in this mansion is screwed up beyond repair. You need to get out of here before blood is spilled again. You need to stop searching for answers. If they are hidden from you, there is probably a very good reason they are hidden.”
“That can’t be true.” Miss Peach protests, looking up at the dark grey bricks above the back door, “My family wouldn’t do something like that! This is our home.”
“Melba,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “You are Hugh Black’s only true child. You are his daughter. Rose was just a poor pawn made to be crazy by her own mother and father out of convenience. She is distant to you because she knows deep down that she is not your mother. Rose might be the only one with the correct idea in this family. Leave it behind. Move forward. You need to get away from this place. These people are capable of things you wouldn’t dream in your darkest nightmare.”
“Is that why Miss Dove and Fivel left as soon as they could? Because Rose told them to?” Miss Peach opens up to the possibility that Mr. Meadow-Brook is being truthful.
“I wish I had never gotten involved with Hugh Black.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “It ruined my life and the life of my poor, naïve wife. She was a test patient here. You see how dotty she is now. Dr. Black had a sexual fetish for control women and their minds. He drugged them and performed torturous tests on them. As you well know, he later was involved with Brunette: the torture artist.”
“Mr. Meadow-Brook,” Miss Peach grabs hold of her stomach, “What if someone else knows I am Dr. Black’s daughter? What if someone wants to kill me? What if I was poisoned and that is why I was throwing up this morning?”
“That is exactly my point, Melba.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, anxious that Miss Peach is beginning to see reason, “I can’t involve myself in anything else here. I have over-stepped my limits as it is. My wife was abused and molested by Hugh Black.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says with great difficulty, “Perhaps that can help put a timeline into perspective. The residents of Blackwell Grange are liars, murderers, thieves, and monsters. Don’t believe a single thing any of them says.”
“But I should believe you? The lawyer of the madman you claim my father, Dr. Black, truly is?” asks Miss Peach, her head spinning with questions
“Believe what you want.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “But you need to be very careful with who you trust and how long you remain in Hampshire. That much has been proven by your stomach issues this morning. Coincidence that Sir Benedict, the only other threat was also feeling ill? We all know Mrs. Peacock and Miss Scarlet can twist John Boddy around their fingers as easily as Dr. Black twisted all those poor women.”
“I’m not scared of some idle threats from those uptight rich-bitches. Mrs. Peacock does not scare me.” Miss Peach crosses her arms, “I’m as strong as she is, if not stronger.”
“Be careful.” Mr. Meadow-Brook locks eyes with Miss Peach for a moment of silence, “You know nothing of what these people are capable of.”
At the Tennis Courts, Reverend Green and Colonel Mustard walk along the pathway from the direction of the Croquet Field. They are making light conversation.
“I feel as though I never can rest easy.” Colonel Mustard says, “Lady Lavender and I have come to an understanding, but it still…”
“Lady Lavender is very trustworthy.” Reverend Green smiles with certainty
“I wasn’t aware you two were close.” Colonel Mustard says
Reverend Green smiles with a silent verification.
“We all have sorted pasts.” Colonel Mustard says
“Oh yes,” Reverend Green says, “And many of our pasts are entwined whether we realize it or not.”
“I must ask out of curiosity,” Colonel Mustard picks up a Tennis Racquet from the bench on the side of the court, “How was it you and Lady Lavender came to meet?”
“Do you know of a man by the name of Ian Masque?” asks Reverend Green, watching Colonel Mustard take a few practice swings with the Tennis Racquet.
“Heard the name once or twice.” Colonel Mustard mutters as he wracks his brain, “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of meeting the chap.”
“I wouldn’t necessarily call it a pleasure.” Reverend Green says, “Do you happen to know a way I might obtain a firearm for protection? I will be visiting Mr. Masque rather soon, it appears, and I don’t trust the man for a single second.”
“I figured there was something you needed.” Colonel Mustard chuckles, “You were never the one for small talk and idle chatter… that is, unless you need a favor.”
“And here I stand,” Reverend Green smiles brightly, “Asking a favor of a courageous war hero.”
“Prisoner of war, more like it,” Colonel Mustard grumbles out the side of his mouth, “A pistol? Do you need a pistol or something stronger?”
“A pistol would work fine.” Reverend Green’s voice goes high, “I’m not quite sure I’ll know how to properly aim the bugger, so perhaps enough bullets?”
“You sound as though you are planning on using it for malicious intent.” Colonel Mustard says
“If the need be.” Reverend Green says softly
“I’ll think about it.” Colonel Mustard says
“Bless you!” Reverend Green clasps his hands excitedly
“Tell me more about this Masque fellow.” Colonel Mustard says, “What did he do to rub you wrong and have you planning on breaking the sixth commandment?”
“It’s not me,” Reverend Green looks onward, towards where Mr. Ash talks with Rusty by the Gardens, “It’s for a friend.”
“It’s your business.” Colonel Mustard shrugs, “I’m off for a drink in the Billiard Room.”
In the Study of Blackwell Grange, Sir Benedict Black stares into the empty fireplace. He stands over the Study desk with his hand on a picture of his late wife, Beatrice. He takes the photo from its frame and places it on the cast iron log grate. He lights the corner of the photo from the box of matches near the cigar box by the door to the Hall. As the picture finishes burning Mr. Boddy enters the room.
“Miss Scarlet is trying very hard to earn my trust.” Mr. Boddy crosses his arms and slumps down into the chaise lounge near the old fireplace and bookshelves.
Sir Benedict Black walks over from the fireplace and sits down in the high back, black, leather armchair. He reaches behind the fern on the side table and turns on the banquet lamp, lighting up the room.
“I imagine Mrs. Peacock hopes to sit here one day.” Sir Benedict says, “Permanently, I mean.”
“Of course.” Mr. Boddy says, propping his feet up onto the red fabric and kicking off his black shoes, “How much longer do I have to act the part of her love-struck interest?”
“Until your birthday.” Sir Benedict leans back in the chair, exhausted, “We’ve been over this a dozen times. You need to show her love. The poor slut has never seen love since her father died.”
“Are you certain Mrs. Peacock will stand down if I continue to pursue her daughter?” asks Mr. Boddy
“Something tells me she is extremely occupied right now.” Sir Benedict motions out the window.
Outside in the Garden, near the front of the house, Mrs. Peacock walks towards the Gazebo with visible anger on her face. She is gripping onto a rust-covered Horseshoe. As she reaches the Gazebo she sees Reverend Green watching Sergeant Gray milling about the Tennis Courts.
“I need you to do something for me.” Mrs. Peacock viciously, slams the Horseshoe down against the railing.
Reverend Green picks up the heavy piece of cast iron and twists it around in his hands, “What can I do for you, Mrs. Peacock?”
“I need you to keep wickedness away from Blackwell Grange.” Mrs. Peacock stares off at the Lake, “There is too much good left in this world.”
“The Lord tries to test our faith by putting stumbling blocks along our path.” Reverend Green says
“And The Lord also gives us the tools to correct our own problems.” Mrs. Peacock’s eyes fall onto the Horseshoe. Reverend Green’s eyes widen. Mrs. Peacock brings her lips close to his ears, “Or would you prefer a shotgun?”
“Mrs. Peacock!” Reverend Green slams the Horseshoe down on the railing of the Gazebo, “I will not have my honor questioned. Not here! Not today!”, Reverend Green begins to walk down the steps of the Gazebo, taking great offense to Mrs. Peacock’s statement, “I thought I could trust Mrs. White. Must judgment is always horribly off when I am weak.”
“Mrs. White didn’t tell me anything.” Mrs. Peacock casually walks towards Reverend Green, who stops and turns back to her, “I found out because Dr. Black and I were intimately involved when you had your crusade in Africa. Don’t worry, I am not one to judge. I just need to make sure that you are aware that the person who I am upset with is becoming a common blackmailer.”
“Mrs. Peacock,” Reverend Green says, “If you would like me to sit down and pray with you…”
“I want you to make sure Mr. Meadow-Brook doesn’t threaten anyone else.” Mrs. Peacock says, “He has already threatened myself, Rusty, and Professor Plum.”
“What kind of threats?” asks Reverend Green
“He is digging through the skeletons in our closets and putting a price tag on the weight of the skeletons.” Mrs. Peacock clenches her jaw tightly
“If you want me to be perfectly honest,” Reverend Green says, “Mr. Meadow-Brook did worry me after he came into the Kitchen. Me and Mrs. White were having a very personal conversation about the shotgun incident you so graciously referenced earlier…”
“I apologize,” Mrs. Peacock bows her head, “That was rather tacky.”
“I was worried that Mr. Meadow-Brook may have overheard me and Mrs. White.” Reverend Green thinks back, “If he did hear us, wouldn’t he have tried to blackmail us by now?”
“I don’t know how Mr. Meadow-Brook’s mind works.” Mrs. Peacock says, “I just know it needs to be stopped.”
Reverend Green nods knowingly and departs from Mrs. Peacock, making his way to the Tennis Courts where Sergeant Gray observes Miss Scarlet leave the Terrace and go to the Boat House.
“Sergeant,” Reverend Green lowers his voice, “I need you to help me with something.”
“Of course,” Sergeant Gray says
“Escort Mr. Meadow-Brook and his wife off Blackwell Grange.” Reverend Green closes his eyes
“I’m not on duty.” Sergeant Gray says
“He doesn’t need to know that.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Abuse your power, just detain the man and make sure he is away from this place.”
“What has he done?” asks Sergeant Gray
“He got himself involved with a bad lot and for his own safety needs to be removed from the area.” Reverend Green says
“I suppose I could figure something out if you see the situation being that urgent.” Sergeant Gray says
“I do.” Reverend Green solemnly frowns
Sergeant Gray looks at the Gazebo where Mrs. Peacock stands looking at the Lake, her dress and hair trailing in the sudden breeze, “Something tells me you don’t want her to know about our conversation.”
“Discretion would be greatly appreciated.” Reverend Green smiles
“There is blood in the air.” Sergeant Gray’s brow furrows, “You don’t suppose…”
“Just get Mr. Meadow-Brook and his wife off the premise.” Reverend Green urges
In the Kitchen of Blackwell Grange, Mrs. Blanche White and Miss Peach work at the wooden table in the middle of the room.
“How long have you worked here?” asks Miss Peach
“Almost all of my life,” Mrs. White smiles, cracking an egg into a bowl
“And Blackwell Grange has always been owned by the Black’s?” Miss Peach asks, “There were never any other owners.”
“Unless you count Mrs. Peacock’s current temporary residence,” Mrs. White chuckles to herself, “Do we need three eggs?”
“Three.” Miss Peach nods, “I was just curious because the house is set so far away from town.”
“The family has always loved that aspect.” Mrs. White smiles brightly, “Something about the mountains and woods on the way up to Blackwell Grange. No village has truly wanted to settle up close to it. You can still barely see the chimneys overtop the trees when you are in Hampshire.”
“So the murders that have happened here really don’t bother the town?” asks Miss Peach
“This old dark house gives them stories to tell.” Mrs. White shakes her head, recounting some odd tales, “Even before Benedict Black IV. It was his great-grandfather who had the main house structure built.”
“I heard the craziest tale.” Miss Peach laughs with relief, “It was from that crazy lawyer.”
“Mr. Meadow-Brook?” asks Mrs. White
“I assume he is no doubt crazier than his simple-minded wife.” Miss Peach says, “She is just a chatterbox with no filter, he comes up with horrible lies.”
“What sort of lies?” asks Mrs. White with increasing interest
“Well he told me that Hugh Black was my biological father and that Blackwell Grange used to be an asylum.” Miss Peach says, “He also hinted that the incident that occurred earlier might be from a poisoning. He tried to convince me that my grandmother was insane.”
Mrs. White is silent for a moment before speaking, “My goodness, Mr. Meadow-Brook is a strange fellow.”
“He had me worried.” Miss Peach says, “He told me that Blackwell Grange was a madhouse twenty years ago.”
“Listen to me,” Mrs. White pulls Miss Peach close to her, “Blackwell Grange has housed many horrible things and many horrible people. These are true facts that we cannot ignore, but Blackwell Grange was never…” Mrs. White’s voice trails off, “I mean it couldn’t have…”
“Mrs. White?” Miss Peach catches the old woman’s mind drifting into her memories.
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. White says, “I was just confusing the timeline up in my mind.”
“What timeline?” asks Miss Peach
“It’s petty.” Mrs. White says, “I was just trying to remember when Dr. Black asked me to take a brief leave of absence after my husband’s death.”
“When was that?” Miss Peach asks
“Eight years ago.” Mrs. White says, “Mr. Meadow-Brook is probably drunk. I remember he used to drink a lot at the parties.”
“He seemed sober.” Miss Peach says half to herself, half out loud
“Well never mind all that.” Mrs. White says, “I can see it is upsetting you. Here, show me how to make the batter. I want to prepare it just like your auntie used to.”
“Well,” Miss Peach giggles, “I’m not sure any of us can cook chicken like Aunt Honey can.”
“Aunt Honey is in America, correct?” asks Mrs. White
“Yes,” Miss Peach smiles, “Still at the farm.”
“How quaint!” Mrs. White smiles, “I’ve always loves the country life. One of my favorite things about living at Blackwell Grange is that the Stables are right next to the Gate House. I get to walk past the stall doors in the mornings on the way to the Garage before I start my duties inside the manor.”
“The horses are gorgeous.” Miss Peach says, “When Cousin John becomes the man of the house, do you suppose he would allow me to get another horse for the stables? I would take care of her myself.”
“I shouldn’t see why not.” Mrs. White says, “Mr. Boddy has always been fond of the tradition of keeping all the close relatives at Blackwell Grange. He doesn’t see a point in wasting more money to keep them clothes and fed in another city or country.”
“Well it is good to know that I’m safe to stay here.” Miss Peach smiles big
“How is your stomach feeling?” asks Mrs. White, “You looked near death earlier today.”
“I felt awful earlier but ever since Dr. Prussian came to see me I have been fine.” Miss Peach says, “Whatever he did worked wonders. Is he a familiar face around here?”
“Dr. Prussian was one of Dr. Black’s trustworthy coworkers.” Mrs. White says, “But the two of them rarely did much together outside of the hospitals or clinics they worked together at.”
In the Boat House, Miss Vivienne Scarlet stares longingly at the ill-fitting wooden door as she waits for Dr. Prussian to meet for their quick rendezvous. The air is damp and the surfaces are coated with cobwebs and sawdust. Miss Scarlet finds a smooth crate with a Water Bucket on top of it. She moves the Bucket and dusts off the top of the crate. She hops up onto it and crosses her legs, trying to find a comfortable and sexy position to wait. She runs her hands along her smooth legs with satisfaction, waiting for Dr. Prussian’s big, warm hands to make their seductive ventures down her smooth body. She smiles at the exciting thought of their secret affair. The sound of the splashing lake against the sides of the Boat House causes her patience to run out. The longer it takes for Dr. Prussian to arrive, the more Miss Scarlet contemplates leaving the stale-aired Boat House. She stands up and begins pacing back and forth, her high heels clicking lightly on the splintered, wooden floor. She walks several times around the interior of the Boat House, which appears to be a make-shift junk-shed: old metal tools that are rusted into disrepair, piping, oars, supplies for the Swimming Pool and Tennis Courts. She comes back to the crate and notices that the Water Bucket is gone. She smirks, realizing that someone has sneaked in.
“I know you are in here.” Miss Scarlet peeks under the upside down row boat, balanced on tall brick piles, in the middle of the Boat House, “Are you hiding on me?”
Miss Scarlet gets on her hands and knees and starts lifting up the heavy wood of the row boat from the bricks. As soon as she makes progression to tilt the heavy edge up, a figure comes from the dusty shadows behind her and beats her over the back of the head with the Water Bucket. Miss Scarlet’s shoulders drop and the row boat lands on top of the upper half of her body. She struggles to push it off, her face hidden from her assailant. Her head pulses and throbs from the adrenaline and the trauma from the Water Bucket. It is then that she feels someone’s hands smoothing their way along her legs and thighs… but they aren’t the warm smooth hands of Dr. Prussian. These are cold, mean hands with lust and anger driven behind them. Miss Scarlet whimpers in vain as she accepts her fate. The strong, cold hands that grip onto her body are impractical since she cannot move underneath the row boat anyway. Every touch, every caress, every thrust, and every minute slowly drains Vivienne of any power and control that she thought she once had. Every wicked thought, every selfish deed, every man she used and toyed with flashes before her eyes. Her mind lingers on Mr. Clay and the happy life that she almost had a taste of with the beautiful, romantic man. But for now, she wallows in the sorrow of the way she walked over everyone, only thinking of herself. Here she lies, weak, used… her money and beauty cannot bring her out of the hell she is enduring on the Boat House floor, pinned beneath the heavy row boat. She feels her ribs crushing underneath the wooden edge as the man continues to molest her. The throbbing in her bleeding head matches the dull throbbing of her own slowing heartbeat. After some time the man withdraws, leaving Miss Scarlet scared, alone, and vulnerable in the dusty, damp Boat House. She cries for several moments after she is sure he is gone. With much labor and several errors, she slides herself onto her stomach and out from underneath the row boat. She fixes her clothing and dresses herself as best as she can, limping towards the doors of the Boat House.
At the Swimming Pool, Mrs. Peacock stands on the edge of the deepest end of the pool, staring into the water at her own
reflection. Mrs. White comes behind her.
“Miss Peach is baking the chicken.” Mrs. White says with a monotone voice
“Thank you, Mrs. White.” Mrs. Peacock continues to look at her reflection.
“I know you are poisoning Miss Peach.” Mrs. White says sorrowfully, looking up at the midday autumn sky.
“Yes, I suppose you do.” Mrs. Peacock says calmly
“I don’t know what to say.” Mrs. White is quiet and sad, “If you are going to kill the girl, then she is essentially already dead. I am just here to tell you that you better do it before she tells anyone else that she is Hugh Black and Jane Meadow-Brook’s daughter. She is very close to finding out what Hugh Black did to all those women here when he played ‘head doctor’.”
“She knows?” Mrs. Peacock turns her eyes finally to Mrs. White
“She doesn’t know who her mother is.” Mrs. White says, “I doubt crazy Jane even remembers.”
“But Miles does.” Mrs. Peacock says, “I figured Hugh and Miles came to some sort of truce. Hugh did keep Miles on as lawyer for all these years.”
“Jane was ill.” Mrs. White says, “Hugh thought he could fix that.”
“So he raped her.” Mrs. Peacock bites her lip, “While Hugh and I were still together…”
“If you are just now getting upset about Hugh’s disloyalty, then I’m afraid you are at least ten years late.” Mrs. White crosses her arms
“I’ve been throwing around the idea of Mr. Meadow-Brook accidentally dying…” Mrs. Peacock says, “Professor Plum, Rusty, Reverend Green…”
“You always were the control-freak.” Mrs. White says walking next to Mrs. Peacock
“I just like to pick my team before the enemy picks his team.” Mrs. Peacock says, “My money is on Rusty. He seems so close to unraveling.”
“Rusty has been ready to unravel for years.” Mrs. White says
“Mrs. White,” Mrs. Peacock inhales deeply, “I know your loyalty is to the Black’s, but thank you for telling me about Miss Peach.”
“I figured I need to sort out my team before the enemy strikes as well.” Mrs. White says
Mrs. Peacock smiles and extends a hand to Mrs. White.
“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression,” Mrs. White steps back with her palms up, “I’m not on your side. Miss Peach is the daughter of Hugh Black. Telling you to kill her would be like us assuming you are going to kill husband number four. I didn’t tell you to kill Miss Peach to benefit you. I did it to see if you actually would.”
“So what does that mean for us?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“I will bring you your cigarettes and brandy as any good housekeeper should.” Mrs. White says, “But when Master Boddy turns eighteen I will stand by his side while you try and cling onto the Hall bannister when we force you to leave.” Mrs. White says
Mrs. Peacock closes her eyes and smiles, “I could tackle you to the grass, drag you by the hair, and drown you in the pool.”
“Yes,” Mrs. White says, “And I’ve embraced the fact that you probably will drown me in the pool, slit my throat in my sleep, or cave my head in with a marble statue. I’ve embraced it because I know in the depths of my heart that every human being you torture will just be another knot tied onto the noose they will hang you with. So I hope you kill me and I hope you kill Miss Peach. Your crimes will catch up with you Patricia.”
“Thank you for telling me about Miss Peach,” Mrs. Peacock smiles, “I’ll remember your helpfulness today when I trip over you on John’s eighteenth birthday.”
In the Garage, Reverend Green, Mr. Ash, and Lady Lavender all huddle in the back near the backdoor that leads to the lumber pile.
“You are certain you two are both up for this?” asks Mr. Ash with nervousness in his voice
“We will be fine.” Reverend Green says, “You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“I think the fact that Reverend Green and I have never actually had the pleasure of meeting before now will be helpful in showing that we are both strangers that do not know each other.” Lady Lavender says
“He can’t know you both know each other.” Mr. Ash says, “He will kill you both.”
“Colonel Mustard is lending me a pistol.” Reverend Green says
Lady Lavender smiles, “At least he is useful for something.”
“I take it you have spent some time with Colonel Mustard?” asks Mr. Ash
“Only recently,” Lady Lavender says, “He just seems befuddled and incompetent of completing the simplest of tasks.”
“He used to have a sharper mind.” Mr. Ash says
“Speaking of Colonel Mustard,” Lady Lavender says, “I have to go tend to something. Are we done talking here?”
“I suppose that at least gives me an idea of how this is going to work.” Mr. Ash says
“You called on good people.” Reverend Green touches both Mr. Ash and Lady Lavender on the arm.
In the Billiard Room of Blackwell Grange, Colonel Mustard drinks at the bar with Mr. Meadow-Brook. Dr. Prussian pours Colonel Mustard and Mr. Meadow-Brook two more shots.
“I don’t think I should do any more.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “I’ve had one of those crazy days.”
“Stay away from the crazy people!” Colonel Mustard laughs merrily, “Stay in here with us and drink the afternoon away. These parties are always too tight and stuffy before the alcoholic beverages are served.”
“You are just bitter because you lost croquet!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says bubbly as she enters the Billiard Room through the Terrace door. She smiles at Dr. Prussian on her way in.
“Jane,” Mr. Meadow-Brook softens his voice, “I had a few drinks.”
“I told you it would do you well.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook smiles, “Colonel, tell Miles he needs to listen to his wife more!”
“I’m staying out of it.” Colonel Mustard laughs, downing another shot.
“Jane,” Mr. Meadow-Brook loosens his tie, “I feel worse than ever and I think I need to go home.”
Lady Lavender and Sergeant Gray both enter the Billiard Room.
“You are too drunk to drive yourself.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says
“Please,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Just drive me back home. I need to get out of here and clear my head.”
“I’m staying.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook protests, “I am finally starting to make my mark around here.”
“With who?” asks Mr. Meadow-Brook, standing up angrily, “Who around here have you made your mark with? No one! It’s because you are loud and talk too much. No one likes you, Jane. You are the butt of everyone’s jokes. Everyone whispers about you behind your back.”
“Okay,” Sergeant Gray steps in, “How about we both cool down a little.”
Lady Lavender snakes through the people and comes over to Colonel Mustard’s ear, she whispers, “Mr. Meadow-Brook has your papers.”
Colonel Mustard’s eyes widen in the stir that has erupted in the room.
“I need to get out of here.” Mr. Meadow-Brook drunkenly grabs onto Sergeant Gray, “Drive me home, goddammit!”
“Yes,” Sergeant Gray says, “That sounds like an excellent idea. Jane, come with me and your husband.”
“I said I’m staying here.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook crosses her arms
“I don’t think that’s really an option right now.” Sergeant Gray says
“I don’t see the harm in Jane staying if she wants to.” Dr. Prussian says, “Miles is the one making a big scene.”
“I have been asking to leave for hours!” Mr. Meadow-Brook shouts at Dr. Prussian
The Terrace doors open and Miss Scarlet staggers in with blood dripping down her leg. She becomes dizzy as she enters the Billiard Room and collapses against the bar. Dr. Prussian and Mrs. Meadow-Brook quickly help her to a chair. She weakly mutters to Mrs. Meadow-Brook.
Mrs. Meadow-Brook’s face becomes overrun with grief and horror. For the first time in her life, everyone’s eyes are on her and she is speechless.
“Well?” Sergeant Gray comes over to them, letting Mr. Meadow-Brook go.
“She was raped.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says softly, her voice shaking.
To Be Continued…
“Well,” Dr. Prussian smiles, greedily, “It looks like I won.”
“Indeed you have.” Miss Scarlet says as Lord Gray and Sgt. Gray barge into the room.
“I just don’t understand your persistence to defy me!” Lord Gray continues to berate his son as they enter the occupied
room. Lord Gray takes notice of Dr. Prussian and Miss Scarlet and changes his tone, “I am very sorry. My son was just being childish and irresponsible.”
“Father, I love Melba!” Sgt. Gray stomps his foot angrily, “You need to come to terms that I can be with any woman I choose!”
“Meet me in the Boat House after your game.” Miss Scarlet whispers to Dr. Prussian with a wink as she leaves the Billiard Room via the French Doors to the Terrace. She can be seen through the drapes as she looks over the Tennis Courts, before making her way off the Terrace and into the great lawn behind Blackwell Grange.
“Lord Gray.” Dr. Prussian turns from where Miss Scarlet left him and shakes Lord Gray’s hand firmly
“Have we met?” asks Lord Gray, squinting at the man
“No I do not believe we have had the pleasure of meeting.” Dr. Prussian says, “I am an old colleague of Hugh’s.”
“Ah!” Lord Gray nods, “Do you know Dr. Kell and Mr. Masque?”
Dr. Prussian thinks for a moment, “I can’t seem to recall hearing those names.”
“Well, I’m sure it will be a pleasure to have you here anyway.” Lord Gray says, shrugging, “Is this your first time visiting Blackwell Grange?”
“Father, we haven’t finished talking.” Sgt. Gray steps forward and places his hands on the edge of the billiard table, gripping it with frustration, “You cannot keep treating Melba this way.”
“Christ, you met this girl less than a month ago and you two are already madly in love. Romeo and Juliette fell in love quickly and look what happened to them. Run along, Stuart.” Lord Gray says, “Go see if you can befriend Miss Scarlet. She is the type of girl you should be associating yourself with. Not that cheap, American trash. I know she is foreign to you and seems appealing, as do you to her, but she is a waste of your time. You are not going to be slowed down by some farm girl that reeks of manure and obstinate opinions.”
Sgt. Gray angrily exits the Billiard Room and off onto the Terrace.
“Tell me,” Dr. Prussian smirks, “Are you a gambling man?”
“That depends on what is on the table.” Lord Gray says with interest, smoothing his hands along the billiard table. He removes the large diamond ring from his pink and places it on the edge of the table, “Can you match me?”
“You are confident you are going to win?” Dr. Prussian smirks
“I grew up with a billiard table, a deceased mother, and an absent father who was always working.” Lord Gray says, “I know my way around a Billiard Room.”
At the back door of Blackwell Grange, Miss Peach makes her way from the Swimming Pool to the servant’s door to the Kitchen. Mr. Meadow-Brook makes his way around Blackwell Grange and nearly knocks Miss Peach right off the stepping stones.
“I am terribly sorry.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says
Miss Peach grabs Mr. Meadow-Brook tightly by the arm, digging her long fingernails into his skin, “Don’t you dare walk away from me!”
“Melba, please, I…”
“You left me with so many questions! What do you know about my family?” Miss Peach says angrily, “I need to know what you know about my grandmother.”
“Miss Peach,” Mr. Meadow-Brook tries to pull away from her, causing her to dig her nails deeper into his arm.
“Tell me what you know about my grandmother!” Miss Peach says tightening her grip on his arm
“Get your goddamn hands off of me!” Mr. Meadow-Brook shakes her wrist fiercely, “You are as crazy as the rest of them!”
“You can’t tell someone you know something serious about their past and then leave them wondering without a single explanation.” Miss Peach pulls her hand off his arm, scratching him in the process, “You told me you knew something about my grandmother and then you disappeared. Tell me what is going on before I have Mrs. Peacock remove you from Blackwell Grange permanently.”
“Melba,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, holding up his hands and looking around nervously, “You don’t understand. I cannot talk to you about this right now. Whatever you do, you cannot go to Mrs. Peacock about this.”
“I’m not the sweet little Southern Belle everyone thinks I am. Tell me or I’ll tan your hide.” Miss Peach narrows her eyes
Mr. Meadow-Brook tightens his fists in frustration, “Your grandmother was clinically insane. She was mentally insane and did mentally insane things to her family. You have been lied to about your family history. Blackwell Grange is not your family legacy. It was a mere mental hospital some-twenty-years-ago. But it was not an ethical mental hospital. It was family run. No one was ever helped, they were just different.” his voice slows down
“Mr. Meadow-Brook, you aren’t making any sense.” Miss Peach is struck with confusion at the sudden outburst of information from Mr. Meadow-Brook
“Shut up, just shut up!” Mr. Meadow-Brook grabs Miss Peach by the shoulders, “Everything in this mansion is screwed up beyond repair. You need to get out of here before blood is spilled again. You need to stop searching for answers. If they are hidden from you, there is probably a very good reason they are hidden.”
“That can’t be true.” Miss Peach protests, looking up at the dark grey bricks above the back door, “My family wouldn’t do something like that! This is our home.”
“Melba,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “You are Hugh Black’s only true child. You are his daughter. Rose was just a poor pawn made to be crazy by her own mother and father out of convenience. She is distant to you because she knows deep down that she is not your mother. Rose might be the only one with the correct idea in this family. Leave it behind. Move forward. You need to get away from this place. These people are capable of things you wouldn’t dream in your darkest nightmare.”
“Is that why Miss Dove and Fivel left as soon as they could? Because Rose told them to?” Miss Peach opens up to the possibility that Mr. Meadow-Brook is being truthful.
“I wish I had never gotten involved with Hugh Black.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “It ruined my life and the life of my poor, naïve wife. She was a test patient here. You see how dotty she is now. Dr. Black had a sexual fetish for control women and their minds. He drugged them and performed torturous tests on them. As you well know, he later was involved with Brunette: the torture artist.”
“Mr. Meadow-Brook,” Miss Peach grabs hold of her stomach, “What if someone else knows I am Dr. Black’s daughter? What if someone wants to kill me? What if I was poisoned and that is why I was throwing up this morning?”
“That is exactly my point, Melba.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, anxious that Miss Peach is beginning to see reason, “I can’t involve myself in anything else here. I have over-stepped my limits as it is. My wife was abused and molested by Hugh Black.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says with great difficulty, “Perhaps that can help put a timeline into perspective. The residents of Blackwell Grange are liars, murderers, thieves, and monsters. Don’t believe a single thing any of them says.”
“But I should believe you? The lawyer of the madman you claim my father, Dr. Black, truly is?” asks Miss Peach, her head spinning with questions
“Believe what you want.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “But you need to be very careful with who you trust and how long you remain in Hampshire. That much has been proven by your stomach issues this morning. Coincidence that Sir Benedict, the only other threat was also feeling ill? We all know Mrs. Peacock and Miss Scarlet can twist John Boddy around their fingers as easily as Dr. Black twisted all those poor women.”
“I’m not scared of some idle threats from those uptight rich-bitches. Mrs. Peacock does not scare me.” Miss Peach crosses her arms, “I’m as strong as she is, if not stronger.”
“Be careful.” Mr. Meadow-Brook locks eyes with Miss Peach for a moment of silence, “You know nothing of what these people are capable of.”
At the Tennis Courts, Reverend Green and Colonel Mustard walk along the pathway from the direction of the Croquet Field. They are making light conversation.
“I feel as though I never can rest easy.” Colonel Mustard says, “Lady Lavender and I have come to an understanding, but it still…”
“Lady Lavender is very trustworthy.” Reverend Green smiles with certainty
“I wasn’t aware you two were close.” Colonel Mustard says
Reverend Green smiles with a silent verification.
“We all have sorted pasts.” Colonel Mustard says
“Oh yes,” Reverend Green says, “And many of our pasts are entwined whether we realize it or not.”
“I must ask out of curiosity,” Colonel Mustard picks up a Tennis Racquet from the bench on the side of the court, “How was it you and Lady Lavender came to meet?”
“Do you know of a man by the name of Ian Masque?” asks Reverend Green, watching Colonel Mustard take a few practice swings with the Tennis Racquet.
“Heard the name once or twice.” Colonel Mustard mutters as he wracks his brain, “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of meeting the chap.”
“I wouldn’t necessarily call it a pleasure.” Reverend Green says, “Do you happen to know a way I might obtain a firearm for protection? I will be visiting Mr. Masque rather soon, it appears, and I don’t trust the man for a single second.”
“I figured there was something you needed.” Colonel Mustard chuckles, “You were never the one for small talk and idle chatter… that is, unless you need a favor.”
“And here I stand,” Reverend Green smiles brightly, “Asking a favor of a courageous war hero.”
“Prisoner of war, more like it,” Colonel Mustard grumbles out the side of his mouth, “A pistol? Do you need a pistol or something stronger?”
“A pistol would work fine.” Reverend Green’s voice goes high, “I’m not quite sure I’ll know how to properly aim the bugger, so perhaps enough bullets?”
“You sound as though you are planning on using it for malicious intent.” Colonel Mustard says
“If the need be.” Reverend Green says softly
“I’ll think about it.” Colonel Mustard says
“Bless you!” Reverend Green clasps his hands excitedly
“Tell me more about this Masque fellow.” Colonel Mustard says, “What did he do to rub you wrong and have you planning on breaking the sixth commandment?”
“It’s not me,” Reverend Green looks onward, towards where Mr. Ash talks with Rusty by the Gardens, “It’s for a friend.”
“It’s your business.” Colonel Mustard shrugs, “I’m off for a drink in the Billiard Room.”
In the Study of Blackwell Grange, Sir Benedict Black stares into the empty fireplace. He stands over the Study desk with his hand on a picture of his late wife, Beatrice. He takes the photo from its frame and places it on the cast iron log grate. He lights the corner of the photo from the box of matches near the cigar box by the door to the Hall. As the picture finishes burning Mr. Boddy enters the room.
“Miss Scarlet is trying very hard to earn my trust.” Mr. Boddy crosses his arms and slumps down into the chaise lounge near the old fireplace and bookshelves.
Sir Benedict Black walks over from the fireplace and sits down in the high back, black, leather armchair. He reaches behind the fern on the side table and turns on the banquet lamp, lighting up the room.
“I imagine Mrs. Peacock hopes to sit here one day.” Sir Benedict says, “Permanently, I mean.”
“Of course.” Mr. Boddy says, propping his feet up onto the red fabric and kicking off his black shoes, “How much longer do I have to act the part of her love-struck interest?”
“Until your birthday.” Sir Benedict leans back in the chair, exhausted, “We’ve been over this a dozen times. You need to show her love. The poor slut has never seen love since her father died.”
“Are you certain Mrs. Peacock will stand down if I continue to pursue her daughter?” asks Mr. Boddy
“Something tells me she is extremely occupied right now.” Sir Benedict motions out the window.
Outside in the Garden, near the front of the house, Mrs. Peacock walks towards the Gazebo with visible anger on her face. She is gripping onto a rust-covered Horseshoe. As she reaches the Gazebo she sees Reverend Green watching Sergeant Gray milling about the Tennis Courts.
“I need you to do something for me.” Mrs. Peacock viciously, slams the Horseshoe down against the railing.
Reverend Green picks up the heavy piece of cast iron and twists it around in his hands, “What can I do for you, Mrs. Peacock?”
“I need you to keep wickedness away from Blackwell Grange.” Mrs. Peacock stares off at the Lake, “There is too much good left in this world.”
“The Lord tries to test our faith by putting stumbling blocks along our path.” Reverend Green says
“And The Lord also gives us the tools to correct our own problems.” Mrs. Peacock’s eyes fall onto the Horseshoe. Reverend Green’s eyes widen. Mrs. Peacock brings her lips close to his ears, “Or would you prefer a shotgun?”
“Mrs. Peacock!” Reverend Green slams the Horseshoe down on the railing of the Gazebo, “I will not have my honor questioned. Not here! Not today!”, Reverend Green begins to walk down the steps of the Gazebo, taking great offense to Mrs. Peacock’s statement, “I thought I could trust Mrs. White. Must judgment is always horribly off when I am weak.”
“Mrs. White didn’t tell me anything.” Mrs. Peacock casually walks towards Reverend Green, who stops and turns back to her, “I found out because Dr. Black and I were intimately involved when you had your crusade in Africa. Don’t worry, I am not one to judge. I just need to make sure that you are aware that the person who I am upset with is becoming a common blackmailer.”
“Mrs. Peacock,” Reverend Green says, “If you would like me to sit down and pray with you…”
“I want you to make sure Mr. Meadow-Brook doesn’t threaten anyone else.” Mrs. Peacock says, “He has already threatened myself, Rusty, and Professor Plum.”
“What kind of threats?” asks Reverend Green
“He is digging through the skeletons in our closets and putting a price tag on the weight of the skeletons.” Mrs. Peacock clenches her jaw tightly
“If you want me to be perfectly honest,” Reverend Green says, “Mr. Meadow-Brook did worry me after he came into the Kitchen. Me and Mrs. White were having a very personal conversation about the shotgun incident you so graciously referenced earlier…”
“I apologize,” Mrs. Peacock bows her head, “That was rather tacky.”
“I was worried that Mr. Meadow-Brook may have overheard me and Mrs. White.” Reverend Green thinks back, “If he did hear us, wouldn’t he have tried to blackmail us by now?”
“I don’t know how Mr. Meadow-Brook’s mind works.” Mrs. Peacock says, “I just know it needs to be stopped.”
Reverend Green nods knowingly and departs from Mrs. Peacock, making his way to the Tennis Courts where Sergeant Gray observes Miss Scarlet leave the Terrace and go to the Boat House.
“Sergeant,” Reverend Green lowers his voice, “I need you to help me with something.”
“Of course,” Sergeant Gray says
“Escort Mr. Meadow-Brook and his wife off Blackwell Grange.” Reverend Green closes his eyes
“I’m not on duty.” Sergeant Gray says
“He doesn’t need to know that.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Abuse your power, just detain the man and make sure he is away from this place.”
“What has he done?” asks Sergeant Gray
“He got himself involved with a bad lot and for his own safety needs to be removed from the area.” Reverend Green says
“I suppose I could figure something out if you see the situation being that urgent.” Sergeant Gray says
“I do.” Reverend Green solemnly frowns
Sergeant Gray looks at the Gazebo where Mrs. Peacock stands looking at the Lake, her dress and hair trailing in the sudden breeze, “Something tells me you don’t want her to know about our conversation.”
“Discretion would be greatly appreciated.” Reverend Green smiles
“There is blood in the air.” Sergeant Gray’s brow furrows, “You don’t suppose…”
“Just get Mr. Meadow-Brook and his wife off the premise.” Reverend Green urges
In the Kitchen of Blackwell Grange, Mrs. Blanche White and Miss Peach work at the wooden table in the middle of the room.
“How long have you worked here?” asks Miss Peach
“Almost all of my life,” Mrs. White smiles, cracking an egg into a bowl
“And Blackwell Grange has always been owned by the Black’s?” Miss Peach asks, “There were never any other owners.”
“Unless you count Mrs. Peacock’s current temporary residence,” Mrs. White chuckles to herself, “Do we need three eggs?”
“Three.” Miss Peach nods, “I was just curious because the house is set so far away from town.”
“The family has always loved that aspect.” Mrs. White smiles brightly, “Something about the mountains and woods on the way up to Blackwell Grange. No village has truly wanted to settle up close to it. You can still barely see the chimneys overtop the trees when you are in Hampshire.”
“So the murders that have happened here really don’t bother the town?” asks Miss Peach
“This old dark house gives them stories to tell.” Mrs. White shakes her head, recounting some odd tales, “Even before Benedict Black IV. It was his great-grandfather who had the main house structure built.”
“I heard the craziest tale.” Miss Peach laughs with relief, “It was from that crazy lawyer.”
“Mr. Meadow-Brook?” asks Mrs. White
“I assume he is no doubt crazier than his simple-minded wife.” Miss Peach says, “She is just a chatterbox with no filter, he comes up with horrible lies.”
“What sort of lies?” asks Mrs. White with increasing interest
“Well he told me that Hugh Black was my biological father and that Blackwell Grange used to be an asylum.” Miss Peach says, “He also hinted that the incident that occurred earlier might be from a poisoning. He tried to convince me that my grandmother was insane.”
Mrs. White is silent for a moment before speaking, “My goodness, Mr. Meadow-Brook is a strange fellow.”
“He had me worried.” Miss Peach says, “He told me that Blackwell Grange was a madhouse twenty years ago.”
“Listen to me,” Mrs. White pulls Miss Peach close to her, “Blackwell Grange has housed many horrible things and many horrible people. These are true facts that we cannot ignore, but Blackwell Grange was never…” Mrs. White’s voice trails off, “I mean it couldn’t have…”
“Mrs. White?” Miss Peach catches the old woman’s mind drifting into her memories.
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. White says, “I was just confusing the timeline up in my mind.”
“What timeline?” asks Miss Peach
“It’s petty.” Mrs. White says, “I was just trying to remember when Dr. Black asked me to take a brief leave of absence after my husband’s death.”
“When was that?” Miss Peach asks
“Eight years ago.” Mrs. White says, “Mr. Meadow-Brook is probably drunk. I remember he used to drink a lot at the parties.”
“He seemed sober.” Miss Peach says half to herself, half out loud
“Well never mind all that.” Mrs. White says, “I can see it is upsetting you. Here, show me how to make the batter. I want to prepare it just like your auntie used to.”
“Well,” Miss Peach giggles, “I’m not sure any of us can cook chicken like Aunt Honey can.”
“Aunt Honey is in America, correct?” asks Mrs. White
“Yes,” Miss Peach smiles, “Still at the farm.”
“How quaint!” Mrs. White smiles, “I’ve always loves the country life. One of my favorite things about living at Blackwell Grange is that the Stables are right next to the Gate House. I get to walk past the stall doors in the mornings on the way to the Garage before I start my duties inside the manor.”
“The horses are gorgeous.” Miss Peach says, “When Cousin John becomes the man of the house, do you suppose he would allow me to get another horse for the stables? I would take care of her myself.”
“I shouldn’t see why not.” Mrs. White says, “Mr. Boddy has always been fond of the tradition of keeping all the close relatives at Blackwell Grange. He doesn’t see a point in wasting more money to keep them clothes and fed in another city or country.”
“Well it is good to know that I’m safe to stay here.” Miss Peach smiles big
“How is your stomach feeling?” asks Mrs. White, “You looked near death earlier today.”
“I felt awful earlier but ever since Dr. Prussian came to see me I have been fine.” Miss Peach says, “Whatever he did worked wonders. Is he a familiar face around here?”
“Dr. Prussian was one of Dr. Black’s trustworthy coworkers.” Mrs. White says, “But the two of them rarely did much together outside of the hospitals or clinics they worked together at.”
In the Boat House, Miss Vivienne Scarlet stares longingly at the ill-fitting wooden door as she waits for Dr. Prussian to meet for their quick rendezvous. The air is damp and the surfaces are coated with cobwebs and sawdust. Miss Scarlet finds a smooth crate with a Water Bucket on top of it. She moves the Bucket and dusts off the top of the crate. She hops up onto it and crosses her legs, trying to find a comfortable and sexy position to wait. She runs her hands along her smooth legs with satisfaction, waiting for Dr. Prussian’s big, warm hands to make their seductive ventures down her smooth body. She smiles at the exciting thought of their secret affair. The sound of the splashing lake against the sides of the Boat House causes her patience to run out. The longer it takes for Dr. Prussian to arrive, the more Miss Scarlet contemplates leaving the stale-aired Boat House. She stands up and begins pacing back and forth, her high heels clicking lightly on the splintered, wooden floor. She walks several times around the interior of the Boat House, which appears to be a make-shift junk-shed: old metal tools that are rusted into disrepair, piping, oars, supplies for the Swimming Pool and Tennis Courts. She comes back to the crate and notices that the Water Bucket is gone. She smirks, realizing that someone has sneaked in.
“I know you are in here.” Miss Scarlet peeks under the upside down row boat, balanced on tall brick piles, in the middle of the Boat House, “Are you hiding on me?”
Miss Scarlet gets on her hands and knees and starts lifting up the heavy wood of the row boat from the bricks. As soon as she makes progression to tilt the heavy edge up, a figure comes from the dusty shadows behind her and beats her over the back of the head with the Water Bucket. Miss Scarlet’s shoulders drop and the row boat lands on top of the upper half of her body. She struggles to push it off, her face hidden from her assailant. Her head pulses and throbs from the adrenaline and the trauma from the Water Bucket. It is then that she feels someone’s hands smoothing their way along her legs and thighs… but they aren’t the warm smooth hands of Dr. Prussian. These are cold, mean hands with lust and anger driven behind them. Miss Scarlet whimpers in vain as she accepts her fate. The strong, cold hands that grip onto her body are impractical since she cannot move underneath the row boat anyway. Every touch, every caress, every thrust, and every minute slowly drains Vivienne of any power and control that she thought she once had. Every wicked thought, every selfish deed, every man she used and toyed with flashes before her eyes. Her mind lingers on Mr. Clay and the happy life that she almost had a taste of with the beautiful, romantic man. But for now, she wallows in the sorrow of the way she walked over everyone, only thinking of herself. Here she lies, weak, used… her money and beauty cannot bring her out of the hell she is enduring on the Boat House floor, pinned beneath the heavy row boat. She feels her ribs crushing underneath the wooden edge as the man continues to molest her. The throbbing in her bleeding head matches the dull throbbing of her own slowing heartbeat. After some time the man withdraws, leaving Miss Scarlet scared, alone, and vulnerable in the dusty, damp Boat House. She cries for several moments after she is sure he is gone. With much labor and several errors, she slides herself onto her stomach and out from underneath the row boat. She fixes her clothing and dresses herself as best as she can, limping towards the doors of the Boat House.
At the Swimming Pool, Mrs. Peacock stands on the edge of the deepest end of the pool, staring into the water at her own
reflection. Mrs. White comes behind her.
“Miss Peach is baking the chicken.” Mrs. White says with a monotone voice
“Thank you, Mrs. White.” Mrs. Peacock continues to look at her reflection.
“I know you are poisoning Miss Peach.” Mrs. White says sorrowfully, looking up at the midday autumn sky.
“Yes, I suppose you do.” Mrs. Peacock says calmly
“I don’t know what to say.” Mrs. White is quiet and sad, “If you are going to kill the girl, then she is essentially already dead. I am just here to tell you that you better do it before she tells anyone else that she is Hugh Black and Jane Meadow-Brook’s daughter. She is very close to finding out what Hugh Black did to all those women here when he played ‘head doctor’.”
“She knows?” Mrs. Peacock turns her eyes finally to Mrs. White
“She doesn’t know who her mother is.” Mrs. White says, “I doubt crazy Jane even remembers.”
“But Miles does.” Mrs. Peacock says, “I figured Hugh and Miles came to some sort of truce. Hugh did keep Miles on as lawyer for all these years.”
“Jane was ill.” Mrs. White says, “Hugh thought he could fix that.”
“So he raped her.” Mrs. Peacock bites her lip, “While Hugh and I were still together…”
“If you are just now getting upset about Hugh’s disloyalty, then I’m afraid you are at least ten years late.” Mrs. White crosses her arms
“I’ve been throwing around the idea of Mr. Meadow-Brook accidentally dying…” Mrs. Peacock says, “Professor Plum, Rusty, Reverend Green…”
“You always were the control-freak.” Mrs. White says walking next to Mrs. Peacock
“I just like to pick my team before the enemy picks his team.” Mrs. Peacock says, “My money is on Rusty. He seems so close to unraveling.”
“Rusty has been ready to unravel for years.” Mrs. White says
“Mrs. White,” Mrs. Peacock inhales deeply, “I know your loyalty is to the Black’s, but thank you for telling me about Miss Peach.”
“I figured I need to sort out my team before the enemy strikes as well.” Mrs. White says
Mrs. Peacock smiles and extends a hand to Mrs. White.
“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression,” Mrs. White steps back with her palms up, “I’m not on your side. Miss Peach is the daughter of Hugh Black. Telling you to kill her would be like us assuming you are going to kill husband number four. I didn’t tell you to kill Miss Peach to benefit you. I did it to see if you actually would.”
“So what does that mean for us?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“I will bring you your cigarettes and brandy as any good housekeeper should.” Mrs. White says, “But when Master Boddy turns eighteen I will stand by his side while you try and cling onto the Hall bannister when we force you to leave.” Mrs. White says
Mrs. Peacock closes her eyes and smiles, “I could tackle you to the grass, drag you by the hair, and drown you in the pool.”
“Yes,” Mrs. White says, “And I’ve embraced the fact that you probably will drown me in the pool, slit my throat in my sleep, or cave my head in with a marble statue. I’ve embraced it because I know in the depths of my heart that every human being you torture will just be another knot tied onto the noose they will hang you with. So I hope you kill me and I hope you kill Miss Peach. Your crimes will catch up with you Patricia.”
“Thank you for telling me about Miss Peach,” Mrs. Peacock smiles, “I’ll remember your helpfulness today when I trip over you on John’s eighteenth birthday.”
In the Garage, Reverend Green, Mr. Ash, and Lady Lavender all huddle in the back near the backdoor that leads to the lumber pile.
“You are certain you two are both up for this?” asks Mr. Ash with nervousness in his voice
“We will be fine.” Reverend Green says, “You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“I think the fact that Reverend Green and I have never actually had the pleasure of meeting before now will be helpful in showing that we are both strangers that do not know each other.” Lady Lavender says
“He can’t know you both know each other.” Mr. Ash says, “He will kill you both.”
“Colonel Mustard is lending me a pistol.” Reverend Green says
Lady Lavender smiles, “At least he is useful for something.”
“I take it you have spent some time with Colonel Mustard?” asks Mr. Ash
“Only recently,” Lady Lavender says, “He just seems befuddled and incompetent of completing the simplest of tasks.”
“He used to have a sharper mind.” Mr. Ash says
“Speaking of Colonel Mustard,” Lady Lavender says, “I have to go tend to something. Are we done talking here?”
“I suppose that at least gives me an idea of how this is going to work.” Mr. Ash says
“You called on good people.” Reverend Green touches both Mr. Ash and Lady Lavender on the arm.
In the Billiard Room of Blackwell Grange, Colonel Mustard drinks at the bar with Mr. Meadow-Brook. Dr. Prussian pours Colonel Mustard and Mr. Meadow-Brook two more shots.
“I don’t think I should do any more.” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “I’ve had one of those crazy days.”
“Stay away from the crazy people!” Colonel Mustard laughs merrily, “Stay in here with us and drink the afternoon away. These parties are always too tight and stuffy before the alcoholic beverages are served.”
“You are just bitter because you lost croquet!” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says bubbly as she enters the Billiard Room through the Terrace door. She smiles at Dr. Prussian on her way in.
“Jane,” Mr. Meadow-Brook softens his voice, “I had a few drinks.”
“I told you it would do you well.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook smiles, “Colonel, tell Miles he needs to listen to his wife more!”
“I’m staying out of it.” Colonel Mustard laughs, downing another shot.
“Jane,” Mr. Meadow-Brook loosens his tie, “I feel worse than ever and I think I need to go home.”
Lady Lavender and Sergeant Gray both enter the Billiard Room.
“You are too drunk to drive yourself.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says
“Please,” Mr. Meadow-Brook says, “Just drive me back home. I need to get out of here and clear my head.”
“I’m staying.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook protests, “I am finally starting to make my mark around here.”
“With who?” asks Mr. Meadow-Brook, standing up angrily, “Who around here have you made your mark with? No one! It’s because you are loud and talk too much. No one likes you, Jane. You are the butt of everyone’s jokes. Everyone whispers about you behind your back.”
“Okay,” Sergeant Gray steps in, “How about we both cool down a little.”
Lady Lavender snakes through the people and comes over to Colonel Mustard’s ear, she whispers, “Mr. Meadow-Brook has your papers.”
Colonel Mustard’s eyes widen in the stir that has erupted in the room.
“I need to get out of here.” Mr. Meadow-Brook drunkenly grabs onto Sergeant Gray, “Drive me home, goddammit!”
“Yes,” Sergeant Gray says, “That sounds like an excellent idea. Jane, come with me and your husband.”
“I said I’m staying here.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook crosses her arms
“I don’t think that’s really an option right now.” Sergeant Gray says
“I don’t see the harm in Jane staying if she wants to.” Dr. Prussian says, “Miles is the one making a big scene.”
“I have been asking to leave for hours!” Mr. Meadow-Brook shouts at Dr. Prussian
The Terrace doors open and Miss Scarlet staggers in with blood dripping down her leg. She becomes dizzy as she enters the Billiard Room and collapses against the bar. Dr. Prussian and Mrs. Meadow-Brook quickly help her to a chair. She weakly mutters to Mrs. Meadow-Brook.
Mrs. Meadow-Brook’s face becomes overrun with grief and horror. For the first time in her life, everyone’s eyes are on her and she is speechless.
“Well?” Sergeant Gray comes over to them, letting Mr. Meadow-Brook go.
“She was raped.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says softly, her voice shaking.
To Be Continued…