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At Crane’s apartment:
Ichy *looks one last time
at his neat small apartment, everything is in order and there is not a speck of dust to be found anywhere. He lifts two big old suitcases and starts to pack the thing he has piled on the table, the first suitcase
is for his clothes and personal belongings, the second one is for his scientific equipment, and it takes a long time to wrap
and pack them properly, his self-made unique tools that have helped him with his investigation work so much, and he turns
each of them in his hands before carefully laying them in the suitcase. When
he is done with the packing, he sits down in an armchair, perfectly quiet, and then he takes a small object from his pocket,
a simple piece of cloth with a bird on the other side and a cage on the other, he winds up the strings and look at the illusion
of the bird in a cage, sighs and puts it away, rises up resolutely, picks his suitcases and heads for the railway station.
But there is one call he must make before leaving, and he walks to Bournemouth
House and knocks on the door ... *
At Bournemouth House:
Kat *Opening
the door* Ichy? *A thought occurs
to her* Come in luv. *As he enters,
she notices the suitcases and frowns* What are those for? You're not thinkin' on leavin' Deppville are ye? *Takes hold
of his arm* Ye wouldna do that not now.
Ye can't go, luv. I need ye.
Ichy *sadly* Yes, I am leaving Deppville and I came to say goodbye to you. I
don't know if I want to live here anymore. What would you need me for?
Kat *Imploringly* Ye don't mean that. You can't just go. I couldna bear it. *Tearfully* Tell me ye'll stay luv. I need te know yer near. *Feels suddenly faint, reaches out toward him as she sinks to the floor.*
*Off stage* She be spendin' a lotta time on that floor,
don't she, 'twix the faintin' and badonkadonkin' . *Snickers*
Ichy *scared, drops his suitcases,
catches her as she starts to fall, and feeling faint himself, manages to carry her to the sofa and sinks down on it, still
holding her* Kat, dear, please don't faint on me! *he doesn't know what to do, he looks down on her where she lies in his arms her eyes shut, he stokes her
temples very carefully with his fingers, and then he can't resist touching her lips with his own* I will do as you want, if you really need me. But it is all
too late now that you are married ... It would be best for us both if I left ... say something …
Kat *eyes open,
she looks at him, grabs the front of his shirt pulling him close, and kisses him, long and hard.*
Ichy *forgets where he is
and returns the kiss, and then he kisses her another time, deeply, and her neck, and his fingers wander on their own on her
skirt*
*She runs her
fingers through his hair, pressing even closer to him, breathes* Hurry my love,
I have waited long for this moment. Kat had her wedding night and she doesn't
know how lucky she is. *SIghs, Moves her hands down loosening his shirt and caressing
his bare skin.* Then there's Kidd tripping over her own feet, trying to decide
if she's coming or going. No bride should be denied her wedding night. Now I'll have mine. *Breathing harder* Life is so wasted on the living.
Ichy *whispers* Yes, my love, I have been waiting for this for too long, far too long.
*fights with his shirt briefly, pulls it finally off and starts to fumble her skirt, not knowing how to loosen it,
he slides his hand upwards on her leg and brings the skirt up, and the passion she arouses in him makes him feel weak and
faint, but he kisses her again ...*
Miranda *Visions of Kat and Abberline in all their newlywed glory slip through her mind and she remembers what
should have been her own wedding night. The knife that pierced her flesh
so many times before stealing away her life was her only wedded bliss. But
now she had a second chance and no intention of wasting it.* Yes my love, no
more waiting. *Tossing his belt aside*
Ichy *continues to stroke
her legs, and her thighs, moving the disturbing clothing away, breathing hard* Yes,
no more waiting … *as she helps him out of his clothes*
At Chateau Blanchefort:
Corso *takes an old fashioned
lantern, apologetically to Abberline* Sorry, the Commander wants to keep it authentic.
I tried to get her to install electric lighting but she said it destroyed the
atmosphere. But on the other hand, this whole place is wired and full of surveillance
came—
Abberline: *threateningly* I you try to set me up ...
Corso
*swallows, back off* Are you gone completely crazy? Hey, sorry, I wouldn't do that, believe me. I don't want to
be seen with you. See, these cameras, they can be fooled, I don't dare to switch
them off, but I know how I can make it seem like they ...
Abberline: Shut
up. Is this the door?
Corso *hurriedly* Yes,
of course! *He opens the creaking door with a big key, lights the lantern and
nods to Abberline* Down the stairs, Inspector and watch your steps, it will be
a long drop if you fall.
Abberline: You think I would let you behind my
back. *pulls out his gun* You first.
Corso:
That was completely unnecessary. You
can trust me!
Abberline *stubbornly* You first.
Corso *resigned,
takes the lantern and starts to descend the stairs in to the dark dungeon.*
*The walls are crude stone work, damp and
thick and cold, and the stairs wind downwards and disappear in the darkness. After
a time Corso reaches the ground, he takes his matches and lights a torch on the wall. They
stand in a vaulted hall built of bricks, the floor is a simple earth floor laid here and there with planks. Corso takes Abberline to a corridor. There are cells on both
sides, and Abberline sees something in one of them that reminds of a skeleton, and small dark shapes scurrying on the floor
in some others.*
Corso *stops in front of one of the cells, illuminated by a small light shaft, and they can barely
see a figure lying on a dirty mattress* Right. Here
it is. I will wait for you in the hallway.
Abberline *pointing his gun
at Corso* You got the keys? Give
me them.
Corso *reluctantly hands him the keychain, Abberline makes him open one of the cells and pushes him in* You can't do this to me!
Abberline: You
will get free when I am ready. *turns towards the cell, puts the lantern on the
ground and grips the bars of Nate's cell.* Get up.
Nate *slowly turns, blinking
from the light of the lantern, lifts his eyes up, stares at Abberline for a moment … then he remembers, and he grins* Well, well, well, as I live and breathe … Inspector Abberline. How nice of you to take a break from your extra-curricular activities at From Hell Court to come visit
me. Now isn’t this cozy? *laughs,
sits up, looks him over* You haven’t changed much, have you? How long has it been? Let’s see … we were in the
woods, as I recall … I was just about to skin you alive, when that freak bastard son of yours came at me from out of
nowhere … sort of a mongrel in wolf’s clothing, wasn’t he? *laughs*
Abberline *looks at him with
contempt* I see that you haven't changed either. You go on in that tone
and you remain here until you rot. *takes the lantern and turns to leave* And
I though you might want a change of scene. Some fresh air. But whatever suits you *shrugs*
Nate: Nice try, Inspector. *waves hand around the cell* I agree, these are not the most charming of accommodations, but at least I’m safer in here than I
would be on the outside. *he stands, approaches the bars, peers at him* You must want something pretty badly to come down here and speak to me. *pauses* I admit, I’ve been down here so long, the thought
of leaving it for awhile is most attractive, despite the danger involved. I’m
sure you know Marchand still has it in for me, for my inability to control his interests.
*pounds fist on bar, snarls under his breath* Duped by a whore, a brat,
and that gypsy trash bitch. *he quickly reigns in his anger, looks at Abberline* What is it you’re wanting? I may
be willing to assist, if you can indeed grant me a few protected hours in real, honest-to-god daylight. *tries to keep the longing out of his voice, glares at Abberline arrogantly*
Abberline: Watch you tongue. *grabs him by his collar and pulls him against
the bars, snarls at him* Watch your tongue when you speak about my wife, my child
and a dear friend of mine. If you call Kat a whore once more, it will be your
last words. I don't know what the exact relationship of your and her is, but
you have no right to call her that. *releases him* I want information. I have the keys here that can set you free,
if you cooperate with me. I want to know everything about Marchand. And I want you to assist me to find him and bring him down.
Nate: Your WIFE … ahhhh! This is a good joke on us both! *he laughs, not nastily this time, but genuinely amused, he can’t help himself, though Abberline
glowers darkly at him* I have a great many rights concerning Miss Kat, laddie. She was my wife, as well, long before she was yours.
So you’ve taken her on now, have you? Well, congratulations. About time you gave some legitimacy to that boy.
*looks at him carefully* And you’ve also befriended the gypsy, eh? No doubt she worked some magic on you, or you wouldn’t be so foolish as to waste
your time. *shakes head* You’re
as hopeless as that chocolatier, that hero of hers, the Green Hornet … the one who calls her sister. And I hear that poor sod who married her came to a bad end. Well,
I warned him, but he wouldn’t listen … nice enough bloke, but damn stupid.
*shrugs* But you did ask that I not speak disparagingly about them, didn’t
you? Very well, Inspector, let that be an end to it. No more insults to the gypsy strumpet and the wh— ahh,
that is, the two ladies of whom you’re so fond. *smiles sneeringly* Now, as to the information you seek about Marchand … I’ll be happy to
tell you anything you want to know, for all the good it'll do you. I have nothing
to lose, he’ll surely kill me if he sees me again. And as far as finding
him … that’s easy, mate. If I stand outside in the open for more
than ten minutes, he’ll be on me. He’s been waiting all this time
for his chance, but I’ve been kept under close lock and key, as it were. So
feel free to use me as bait, or hang me, or leave me here to rot, it’s all essentially the same to me. Y’know, Inspector, it’s not so bad once you hit rock bottom and realize you have nothing to
lose. *eyes him carefully, grins* But
then, you’ve been there, haven’t you? And every day, you struggle
to maintain, to make sure you don’t wind up there again. Still waters run
deep, don’t they, son? *chuckles*
Abberline: Yes, she is my wife. You are trying to irritate me, aren’t
you? I don't believe you, you lie. She wouldn't marry one like you. *looks at Nate, who isn't smirking at him now - maybe he told the truth and really was married to Kat?*
If that was so, I can understand why she has a broken spirit … What did you do to her? But I don't care about your opinions,
I am going to protect her and my children from Marchand, or you, or anybody. I
am going to kill Marchand. I don't know yet how, but I am going to do it.
But explaining that to you is just a waste of time, you would never understand. I
don't want her to go on living in fear. I have to find Marchand. And it seems that I really can do it with your aid. *after
a pause* What is the meaning of Kat's tattoo? Is
that the way he can control her, have power over her? And if you have nothing
to lose, you may know something that helps me to deal with him. *fingers the
keychain, then looks at Nate* I am out of it. I
don't have to be afraid of ever falling there again, like you, because now I have a reason to live. And I have never been as low as you.
Nate: Believe what you want, Inspector. Ask
Kat yourself. *grins* We’ll
see if she’s as honest about me as she was about Vicky. *laughs, then shrugs* I could also tell you to look up the marriage and divorce decrees, it’s all
in the records, but frankly, I don’t care whether you believe me or not. I’ll
tell you once more that it’s no lie about my having been married to Kat, and then I’ll say no more. *pauses* Kat’s tattoo comes from Marchand himself. I’m sure you’re aware he’s her father. He did that himself, as a way to control her powers she was born with, so she would never use them against
him. Her powers are all over the map, Inspector, but you’ve probably already
seen that. She’s not a dreamer, but she has other powers … like the
gypsy, she’s probably still unaware of just how much power she has. *leans
through the bars, reaches a hand out* Y’know, I’d be more inclined
to talk if you’d cigarette me … *Abberline frowns, brings forth a
cigarette; Nate takes it, Abberline strikes a match, lights it for him. He puffs
appreciatively, then continues* Obliged.
Now … the tattoo … it probably would’ve worked completely to Marchand’s liking, except Kat’s
mother Ama, who has a few powers of her own, was able to temper it somehow. I don’t
know all the ins and outs of that, but she was able to do something with it so her daughter wasn’t totally at Marchand’s
mercy. Then we get into some territory you already know, but I suppose a recap
could be in order … the heart and soul motif is a continuum through all this.
Marchand wants the power of the soul box. He’s a necromancer, he
needs to perpetuate, or he’ll die. He’s already benefited from the
box, having absorbed many of the doomed ones when he himself was locked up inside it for a time … *sees Abberline shudder,
smirks* Ahh, I see that experience still colors your world, and well it should. *smokes for a moment, collects his thoughts*
So to use the box to its optimum power, Marchand needs to perform a ceremony that would include your lovely wife and
your son … the heart and soul … and the topper is the blood of the gypsy.
He could manage with the mother and brat alone, and originally that was the plan … then we discovered the power
between your son and the gypsy … it’s extraordinary … it gives everything a whole new dimension. Once that was apparent, Marchand wouldn’t settle for less than all three. *shakes his head* Not an easy kidnapping
to accomplish, I don’t have to tell you that. *finishes cigarette, drops
it to floor, steps on it with a heavy boot, looks carefully at Abberline* So,
now you’ve decided you’re going to kill Marchand. Your own father-in-law,
fancy that! *laughs, then looks at him like he’s mad* You’ll never manage it, son. If you really want to do
away with Marchand altogether, then just sit back, wait a few weeks, and the gypsy will take care of it for you. Well, she won’t, but the guardians of the box will … once she keeps her part of the bargain
with them. They know how to do it, and they’ve promised her. And believe it or not, the guardians, and that Leader, you can take ‘em at their word. I suggest you take Kat away from here for awhile, a nice little trip … then when you come back, it’ll
all be over. Doesn’t a little honeymoon with your fair lady sound better
than a crusade, Inspector?
Abberline *listening to Nate
quiet* I don't really care if you were married to her or not. It doesn't make
any difference now. But you left out what you did to her for her to fear you
so much ... You are just a miserable coward. I
know that Marchand is her father, but nobody can choose a father, there is nothing she can do about it, and she is not responsible
for him. I know why he needs the three of them, but doesn't that mean that Marchand gets weaker and weaker without
them. He has been waiting for long, and he can't anymore be as powerful as he
used to be. Then why isn't he dead already? It
can't be impossible to kill him. I will see to it that he will never get Kat,
Raven and Manouche. You can snicker as much as you want. As for the deal, I know of it. And I am going to stop her from
sacrificing herself. I would never leave her at the mercy of the Leader.
*thinks for a while, lighting himself a new cigarette, not offering Nate one* Maybe
you are right. I should be looking for the soul box and the Guardians first,
before dealing with Marchand. The soul box would take care of Marchand for good
... I would have to find the shadows, and a way to defeat them ... *forgets Nate, not for the first time thinking about how to stop Manouche, it has been troubling his mind
ever since he became aware of the deal, and he knows that he can't let her do it and that there must be a way* It means that I don't really have much use for you.
Nate *shrugs* Suit yourself. You and that chocolatier
… that unfortunate hero streak. You’re right, I am a coward. And I see no reason to tell you what I did with Kat.
That was between husband and wife, and it was a long time ago. Let her
tell you about it, if she wants you to know. *pauses* You’re also correct in that Marchand gets weaker all the time when he can’t refortify himself. I have no idea what he’s doing to survive.
He may be far away, finding others to prey on until he can come back here strong enough to try again for the box. He could be dead … but I don’t think he is. You could possibly get more information from Kat’s mother, Ama.
‘Course, she’s rather selective who she chooses to appear to. As
for myself, like I said before, the one way I could possibly help you is that I’m pretty certain I would draw him here,
if I were set free. If that’s something you would like to pursue, so be
it. If not, then … with your permission, I think I’ll return to my
nap. *he nods slightly, turns, walks back to the mattress, drops down on it,
stretches out facing the wall; another thought occurs to him, and he lifts up, turns to face Abberline* Oh, and Inspector, one more thing. I probably don’t
have to tell you this, but … being the coward I am, my loyalties tend to follow the wind, as it were. Should the prevailing wind suddenly come from Marchand … that is, if he returns and wishes to employ
my services, give me another chance … I’ll take great pleasure in acquiescing.
This could mean a renewed alliance with your employer Portsmith, as well … she and Marchand were pretty
chummy when they were both interested in the soul box, it could happen again. Best
of all, it would mean continuing where I left off with Kat many years ago, and, more recently, with the gypsy trash. *sneers* I still have dreams about putting
my knife to them. They both are capable of the most delicious screams … to hear them together, in the same room,
would be ecstasy ...
Abberline: *grabs hold of
the bar so tightly that his knuckles go white, and he fights a temptation to shoot Nate right away; but Nate has already accomplished
what he wanted, tormenting him with a vision, and he can hear the screams of Kat and Manouche, as if it were for real, as
if they were shut in a room with Nate and he has no way of getting in, and he needs all his willpower to chase this vision
out of his mind. And then a horrible thought strikes him: if he can get a vision like this, feeling so real, does it mean
that it really is going to happen, that he's unleashing Nate on Kat and Manouche?* You
can dream on, but that is not going to happen. If I let you free, you are not
going to have any chance of getting near either of them, unless it be over my dead body. *he
takes a deep breath and forces himself to calm down, goes on after a lengthy pause* Marchand
is too drawn to the soul box to go far from it, I am sure he is lurking in some lair somewhere near. I will indeed use
you as a bait to have him appear .... *the mention of Manouche's deal has given him
an idea how to deal with Marchand* I will take you out of here to a location
where we can wait for him. I don't trust you a moment, and I am not afraid of
you switching allegiance - you have none to me, you are just a tool for me to achieve what I want. And I doubt Marchand would have any use for you. Don't think
too high of yourself. You are nothing. *shouts
to Corso* Corso, I need a car. I
will wait in your study till you can get one, and if you fail to show up, you can say goodbye to your books.
Corso
*whining* But if I drive her car up to the castle, she will see it ... Please
don't touch my books.
Abberline: You have lied to her before so I don't
see you having any problems with it now. I will wait for half an hour, and if
you don't appear by that time with a car, I am going to burn your books, one by one, one in each fifteen minutes.
Corso:
You couldn't do that ...
Abberline: I
can. Just get me the damned car. *to
Nate, taking a pair of handcuffs from his pocket* Get up. We are going now.
Nate *looks
at him, eyebrows raised* Ah, you heard them too, didn’t you? So it’s true what I’ve heard about you … you do shine.
Too bad we’re on opposing sides, we could do great things together. *he
sits up on the mattress, then stands* As you wish, Inspector. Let’s see what happens. I hope you’ll have a good
explanation for your boss as to why you’ve removed me from the dungeon without her permission. But I suppose you’ll work it out with her. *laughs,
holds his arms out* Clap ‘im in irons, mate, and lead on …
At Bournemouth House:
Raven *up in
his room, frightened, confused, wondering what’s happening between his mother and Constable Crane. Not that he’s unaware – he’s wise beyond his years, he knows “what’s”
happening, but he doesn’t understand. He knows it’s not really his
mother … but who is she? And what has happened to his mother? He’d hurried up to his room when he realized it was out of his control, that whatever was possessing
his mother would not listen to him, no matter what he said or did; he knew this instinctually, as sure as he knew anything. He closed the door of his room, leaned against it, glad for the large house and the
distance between his room and the living room, so he can be as far removed from the situation as possible.*
*He looks around
his room, wanting to occupy himself … and his eyes rest upon the boxes, the boxes his father had received in the mail
with the hateful letter from Sylvia Abberline. He takes one of the smaller ones,
opens it, starts browsing through the items inside. He finds what appears to
be Abberline’s birth certificate, and he looks it over: Frederick George
Abberline, the usual information, date of birth, parents’ names. He sets
it aside, then finds a bundle of letters tied together, all unopened. He looks
at the envelopes, they’re all addressed to Abberline, Bournemouth House, stamped from France. He wonders if he should open one, decides
to set them aside for the moment, to see what else is in the box … he finds small toys, little miniature cars, animals,
a yo yo, other simple toys … then he reaches the bottom of the box, and is surprised to find yet another box –
a small, gunmetal gray, flat metal lock box. He pulls it out, turns it around
in his hands, sees a small key taped to the bottom. He tries the key, and the
box springs open. It contains paperwork, and he pulls it all out and starts leafing
through it. He picks up the top page, reads it, and his eyes widen as he realizes
he’s holding another birth certificate … this one shows his father’s name spelled Frederic, no middle name,
country of origin France, father unknown, and the mother’s name given as Marie-Claire Vernet. He picks up the other certificate, holds them side by side, and he remembers the letter that Sylvia had
sent along with the boxes, all the hateful things she had said, and the family secret she had callously revealed:*
No wonder
that you always were the black sheep and the misfit of the family. You are the
one that tore this family apart for good. There's no doubt about who your father
is. He betrayed me, and though I tried, I never really could forgive him. Especially
when you were there reminding me of his sin. I don't know who your mother was
and I never cared to know. Your father never told the reason why he brought you
to our home without asking anything from me first. Maybe even a bastard son was
better than no son at all.
Raven *sets
the certificates aside and examines the other pages … legal documents, from the look of them, official investigative
reports, written up and signed by a detective who apparently had been hired to keep tabs on Vernet and the child. The reports bring tears to Raven’s eyes, as he learns from them and the certificate that Mademoiselle
Vernet had been very young, not much more than a child herself, when she had given birth to Abberline. The reports seem to stop abruptly, fanning his curiosity … he re-reads a couple of the reports, frowning
over them … then he sets them aside, with the certificates, and moves on to a series of old photographs, but he’s
not sure who’s who in them, though he knows the small boy with the large, dark eyes could be no one else other than
his father. Finally, he comes upon a journal, and he reads the first entry or
two and quickly sees that it’s Abberline Sr’s diary … he drops it as if scalded, knowing without reading
further that it will be filled with vitriol toward little Frederic, and he doesn’t want to see it, not yet, perhaps
never. He’s vaguely reminded of another journal, a small, black notebook
… hazy, in the back of his mind, he can’t pin it down … he shrugs, pushes the thought aside, then reaches
for the last item in the lock box, and it’s so different from everything else, he handles it more gently. It’s a small, elegant envelope, very pale lavender color, still retains a lavender scent. It’s unsealed, so he opens it, brings out a thin piece of parchment with an inscription written in
an elegant hand:* Pour mon Frederic bien-aimé
de fils, de sa mère tendre, son Marie-Claire. *the slip of paper is attached
to a little braid of hair, plaited from two separate locks – one a lighter brown, fine, and Raven knows it’s his
father’s … the other dark chestnut, nearly black, Mademoiselle Vernet’s.
Raven holds the braid gently, and as he holds it, he feels a vision coming to him, and he squeezes his eyes shut …
he sees a small house by a mill, it makes him think of Manouche’s property, though it really looks nothing like it;
it’s much smaller, only the one house, very modest, with a deep pond. The
property seems oddly still, and he wonders if it’s been abandoned; then he hears footsteps running in the tall grasses,
a breathless voice panting, sobbing, and he knows it’s Marie-Claire Vernet, heartbroken, alone, running full-speed toward
the pond, crying out bitterly in French. Though Raven doesn’t know the
language, the vision is clear enough to him that he knows she’s lamenting her fate, and damning Abberline Sr. for taking
her child away:*
Il prendrait
mon coeur et mon âme, il me tue. Abberline fichu à l'enfer pour toute éternité!
Raven *holds
his breath as he sees the beautiful young girl, dark hair flying behind her, and he’s aware with a shock that she’s
a dreamer, he doesn’t know how he knows, he just knows, and he cries out to stop her, though he’s aware that what
he’s seeing is a shadow, something that happened long ago, but he can’t help himself … he sees her jump
into the pond head-first … she strikes her head on a rock under the water, sinks unconscious, her lungs filling with
water … then everything goes black, and Raven comes out of it, sitting on his bed, a sheen of sweat on his face, tears
falling down his cheeks. He recovers after a few minutes, and slowly puts the
items back in the boxes as he found them, first the lock box, then everything else on top of it in the larger box, except
for two things: the envelope with the braid, and one photograph of Mademoiselle
Vernet, smiling, happy, beautiful, holding her little boy with the dark, solemn eyes and fine brown hair. Raven places the braid and the photo in the lavender envelope, tucks it carefully away in the bottom of
a canvas bag in his closet. He then closes up the box, sets it back with the
others, in the corner of his room, and hops back on his bed, thinking, holding a pillow tightly in front of him, desperately
wishing he could speak to his father right now, or to Manouche, to another dreamer … after a few minutes, he looks back
at the stack of boxes, and sighs deeply. He’s only gone through one of
them. He wonders, with no small amount of trepidation, what the others contain
… *
At the dungeon:
Abberline *to Nate* I don't have to explain anything to her, nor to you. I
hope this is the last time I will see you. *puts the handcuffs on Nate, then
he takes his gun and goes to free Corso* No tricks. Take the lantern and open his cell. *when Corso hesitates,
afraid of him, he slams Corso with the gun* Get moving. You first, Nate after you. Start climbing the stairs. *Corso fearfully and sheepishly nods, cowering in fear of more blows, hurries to do
what he was told and starts upward with Nate following clumsily after him, and Abberline has to kick him a few times to make
him move faster ...*
Abberline *back in Corso's cosy study* And now the
car, Corso. Remember, no more than half an hour. And
don't take the SUV. *to Nate* You,
get on the couch and sit still. *he takes a look at Corso's monitor and sees
a view of the castle walls, he presses a random button, and the view changes to show the Bretonnian stone circle, he glances
at Nate, and presses another button, hoping to see Corso, but instead the view is switched to a completely another place,
a room with a fireplace and familiar looking wallpapers and a Victorian rug and on the floor, and with a start he recognizes
his own living-room. He doesn't recognize two black suitcases near the doorway,
but when the view moves to the sofa, he instantly recognizes the two persons on it in hot embrace – Kat and Constable
Crane, and for a while he doesn't react, he stares at the scene, and then he smashes the monitor with his gun*
Nate *having
seen the monitor, grins slyly* Well, look at that … it would appear that
you left your blushing bride alone for a little too long, Inspector. *his tone
becomes kindly, warm, seductive, as he uses his oratorical skills from his former life as a minister to get to Abberline* My sympathies, mate. I know just how
you feel. I found her to be a most untrustworthy partner when she and I were
married, too. Don’t hold it too much against her, though … it’s
just the way she’s wired, savvy? It’s best to take a virgin for a
bride, rather than try to save these poor unfortunates … once a woman has sinned, she can never change her ways. What's worse, is, they remain most unappreciative of our efforts to help. Disgraceful, for her to take advantage of your good nature and kindness like that, a fine man such as yourself. Ungrateful wretch, she’s not worthy of you.
*leans forward slightly, his rich voice filled with sympathy and understanding*
Perhaps, before we go searching for Marchand, you would like to repair to a tavern, you and I could have a few drinks
and commiserate on the fickleness of woman … or maybe you’d prefer a little opiate for comfort, I can help you
there, as well …
Abberline: No! She wouldn't do that to me, it has to be some trick of
Corso, or Portsmith, one more try to get us apart. An illusion, a setup ... *but
he knows that what he saw was real* In my own house ... *feeling desperate and
out of control, he starts to listen to Nate, to his calming voice, and listening to him he lights a cigarette and thinks of
his virgin bride Victoria, he hasn't been thinking of her for a long time at all, and now he feels a sting, and a longing
for her ... * Maybe you are right. I
trusted her. *and he starts to speak to Nate like he wasn't an enemy, because
he has to try to keep himself from crumbling down, and there is no one except Nate and his soothing voice to lean on*
I trusted her. And I loved her ... and .. and she is carrying my child, my daughter
... how could she ... I wanted to do right, for her sake and Raven's and mine, I wanted to give her love and protection, and
she told she loved me .... Why? Did she lie to me then? Why would she? *and he nods at the final words of Nate* No, no drugs, but I don't know where I would take you, so one place is as good as another.
Nate *continuing,
his voice soft, soothing* I have another idea that may suit you, Inspector. *looks around the room, sees a shelf containing several bottles of fine brandy. He nods toward the shelf, speaks again* What’s
say we help ourselves to a couple of those bottles, and take them to a house I know of?
Seeing as how Portsmith is responsible for you receiving this devastating news, I think the least she could do is supply
a little comfort for you. I’m sure given the circumstances, borrowing a
little of her brandy will be considered acceptable. When the toadie comes ‘round
with the car, I’ll give you directions. It’s a nice, quiet place
not far from here. We can have a few drinks, and no one will bother us, then
we can continue on, try to find Marchand, if you wish. This house will be much better than a noisy tavern with
its added temptation of drugs. Also, chances are good that a tavern would be
filled with people who already know what she’s done to you – it’s a very small town, Inspector, I don’t
have to tell you how fast news travels, especially bad news. Just a thought. If you’re more comfortable with a tavern, by all means, we’ll go wherever
you like. I leave it up to you … and it’s sorry I am, for your pain,
I know it all too well. *gazes at him sympathetically*
Abberline *follows his gaze
to the bottles, picks up one of them and looks at it, then takes another one and reads slowly the label as if it had some
importance, and as Nate talks about the tavern and the people there, he feels that he has really been humiliated by her, Nate
is right, such news fly fast, and he sees them all snickering at him, and then he remembers Vick the male 'business partner'....
* Suits me fine. *then he hears
Corso's steps approaching and snaps up from his thoughts* You think you can fool
me, get me drunk and kill me like you tried to do and escape, you think you will easily be rid of me. That's not so. A lonely house is a better place to make up
plans and wait, no risk of having Manouche or Godley interfering ...
Corso *opens the door and peeks in nervously*
I got a car. It's at the back door. *sees the broken monitor, eyes go wide* What
- what happened?
Abberline: It fell. Take
us to the car. He will give you the instructions, and then you will drive away
and return the car. I don't want anyone searching after a stolen car. And then you will completely forget the location and drive over and give this note to Manouche. *rips a paper from some open book, Corso winces, but doesn't dare to protest, Abberline hands him the note*
The
deal is off.
Corso *astonished* That all?
Abberline: You can write the novels yourself. Take
these. *shoves him the two brandy bottles, hesitates briefly and picks a third
one, points the gun at Nate* You first.
Corso *opens cautiously the car
door and slinks in, worried that some one will see, looks anxiously as Abberline pushes Nate in the backseat and follows him,
the gun still in his hand, and they drive off, first to Chez Roux, because Manouche's house is too far, and Abberline assures
him with a bitter voice that Manouche will sooner or later be found there, Corso hands the note to the barkeep and asks him
to give it Manouche, and then he takes the car to an undisclosed location*
At Bournemouth House:
Miranda *having dressed,
considers the possibilities. Watches Ichabod who rests on the couch, smiles* He ended my curse. My love, my knight
in shining armor, I will see that he will never regret it. I will make him happy. Ichabod my love, we must be away from
here. There are those here that will seek to intervene and deny me my new life. *Recalls having heard them speak of a ship, The Apparition that Kat commands* Ichabod, we must take the Apparition and sail away, far away. Now, at once!
Raven *having
come down the stairs, stands just outside the living room, hiding, listening. He knows it's not his mother speaking,
and he waits to see if he can understand more by what she says, so maybe he'll know what to do. He tries to send a thought
out to Manouche, to call for help*
Ichy *gets up, still looking
at her in the eyes, noticing that her gaze looks somehow odd and he is instantly afraid that she has started to hesitate*
I am honoured that you chose me, Kat, and I will never let you down. I can take the child and raise her as my own, and I don't care where we go, I would go anywhere with you.
I have been waiting for this so long, without hope, and when I heard of your
marriage I was devastated. We can sail immediately on the Apparition, isn't it
ready and waiting as it always is. *takes her by the hand and leads her out of
the house, not forgetting to grab the more important one of his suitcases, the one with his inventions and tools, and they
leave Bournemouth House and head towards the port*
At an undisclosed location:
Corso *brakes the car in
front of a lonely house, watches Nate and Abberline get out* Can I go now?
Abberline
*takes the brandy bottles from him, turns to look at him intently* If you disclose anything you will be a dead man. Do you
understand? *watches as the car speeds off, then turns to Nate, and looks suspiciously at the house* I won't take the handcuffs
off. Do you know where the key is or do I have to break the door?
Nate *still
keeping his voice oily smooth and comforting* No key, mate, the door’s
unlocked. Nobody comes out here, the place has been deserted for years. *sees that Abberline still has the gun on him, shrugs*
Follow me. *he approaches the door, manages to open it with his cuffed
hands, they enter. There’s not much inside, a few pieces of old furniture,
lots of dust and cobwebs everywhere, some lanterns and candles because there’s no electricity. Nate turns, looks at him* Shall we be having that first drink
now, Inspector? No prying eyes here, as you can see. No one to gossip and whisper to each other about your misfortune.
Abberline *puts down the
bottles and the gun on the table* You won't be doing anything stupid if I uncuff you? *not waiting for an answer, takes the
key and frees Nate, slumps down on the nearest chair by the table, not caring to look how dusty it is, lights a cigarette
and offers one to Nate, opens the brandy and drinks directly from the bottle, stares at the table with a remote look in his
eyes* She betrayed me. Did she betray you too? What if that daughter isn't mine at all?
Nate: Inspector, to be honest, I’m too intoxicated by air outside of that blasted
dungeon to try anything foolish. *rubs his wrists, accepts cigarette, takes another
one of the bottles, opens it, drinks* I have to admit, it’s hard to know
how much you can trust any woman, particularly Kat. She’s not so much devious,
but rather, she comes from an impossible background. Her father is Marchand,
she’s got a split personality, she has a certain amount of power in her, she had a child and left him with the Indians
to raise … it’s been a long and twisted path she’s been on. What
chance did she ever have of a normal life? I should’ve known it when I
married her, but I was too taken in by her charms. It’s likely that she
would’ve left you sooner or later, I’m sorry to say. *takes another
drink* There’s always the possibility the child she’s carrying isn’t
yours. There could exist that chance with the boy, as well, but now that I’ve
seen you both, there’s such a strong resemblance between you, I tend to believe you’re his father.
Abberline *listens to Nate,
drinks more and forgets all about his plans he had for Marchand* I know about
her background, and I did not make it better for her in Fiji. I should never have gone there. I would
still have my beautiful Victoria, and we would have the child she was carrying, perhaps more children ... So now I have only Raven left, and he is my son, there is no doubt of it. I
have to divorce her and she can take her Constable and be happy with him. What
else can I do?
Nate *nods,
sympathetic* That’s very gentlemanly of you, Inspector. I’m afraid I didn’t react nearly so well with her when I felt her betrayal. But that’s the difference between you and I, isn’t it?
I’m decidedly not a gentleman. And Kat was certainly never a lady. *drinks* ‘Course, being a gentleman,
like anything else, has its advantages and disadvantages. On the one hand, your
actions are admirable and pure … much like all I preached to my flock once upon a time.
On the other hand … it often causes you to lose your edge, and to become careless … *he grins nastily as
he watches the heavy club rise in the air and crash down on Abberline’s head, knocking him to the floor unconscious. He looks up approvingly at the assailant* Bull’s
eye.
Marchand *disgusted,
drops the club to the floor* Shut up, and get him down to the cellar. Secure him tightly, with chains, not ropes, everything you need is down there. Gag him, too, I don't
want to have to listen to him. Be quick about it before he comes to. I swear, if he escapes, I’ll skin you alive.
Nate: No worries, he won’t get away. *he
stands up, pulls Abberline’s limp form up from the floor, sneers at him* Let’s
see how you like the dungeon, Inspector. Not a very nice place for a gentleman,
I’ll grant. *he laughs, drags Abberline to the doorway that leads to the
cellar, takes him down the stairs*
On The Apparition:
Miranda *Apprehensively scanning
the crew, who were obviously filthy dregs scraped from the bottom of a barrel, frightening to say the least. A man approaches her. She moves closer to Ichy. Nervously she asks* Who are you?
Jaime *Puzzled* I'm Jaime o'course. Be ye well, Kat? Ye know ye made me actin' Captain of yer ship. Be
ye 'ere te take command?
Miranda *Knowing she knows nothing of sailing ships and has little choice, replies* No, I want ye to continue your duties. Ichabod
and I have decided to depart Deppville. We'll leave the command of the ship to
you. We wish to leave as soon as possible.
Now if you would have someone take our luggage downstairs.
Jaime *Quizzically* Downstairs?
Ye mean below te yer cabin.
Miranda *Nervously* Of course I do, I'm just not feeling myself at the moment.
Jaime: Might
as well make yerself comfortable down there. It gonna be some time 'fore the
ship's made ready for sail. *Orders a couple of crew members to stow their things
in Kat's quarters. Miranda and Ichy follow them down.*
At Chez Roux:
Manouche *walking
toward Deppville, mind racing with troubling thoughts. She’s so tired of
trying to figure out an answer to the problem of the box, and now she’s promised Alifi she’ll wait a little longer. But for what? The episode with Kat’s
tattoo frightened her more than she let on to anyone … to Malachi, Raven, Abberline … she’s thinking more
and more that the box must be dealt with, and soon, and at a level where they can be sure no one is ever bothered with it
again. She kicks at a stone, annoyed with herself. Why had she promised Alifi? And what in the world was Alifi
talking about, when she said there were “plans” … she’s starting to think maybe she should stop listening
to Alifi, and Ama too, while she’s at it. The last thing Ama said to her
was that she had some sort of reward coming her way … and the next thing she knew, she lost Blake. She frowns; rewards like that she doesn’t need. She
reaches the edge of town and starts with her usual trip to Jerod’s house, still holding out hope that he may be there,
and help her find out Blake’s fate … once again, she’s disappointed, the house still abandoned. She swallows her bitterness, turns away, continues into town.*
*Now she’s
on her way to Bournemouth House. After Alifi told her about some of the things
Abberline said, she figured she would talk to him herself, try to find out more. She’s
also been receiving a summoning of sorts from Raven, but it’s confusing, he’s thinking of many things at once
… she sees a French name she doesn’t recognize, a Marie-Claire something-or-other, and she’s also picking
up on something about Kat leaving, but it’s not really Kat … she shakes her head, quickens her pace. She arrives in town, so deep in thought that she’s barely aware of where she is, and she looks up
as she hears a voice call her name*
Armand: You must be a thousand miles away …
Manouche *smiles
slightly* Aye, I reckon I am. Apologies,
luv. That’s hardly how I should behave after ye showed me such a grand
time last night.
Armand *smiles* It was my pleasure. I’ll forgive
you ignoring me if you’ll have a drink with me. Unless you’re busy
… you look like you’re headed somewhere …
Manouche: I am in a bit of a hurry … but as it turns out, I truly could use some fortification
at th’ moment. I’ll make time fer one, then I must be on me way. *Armand leads her to Chez Roux, they enter the bar, take a booth* So what ye been doin’ with yerself, luv?
Armand: Killing time till I could see you again .. *he
reaches across the table, takes her hand*
Manouche *smiles,
blushes slightly, lowers her eyes in confusion, brings her other hand over his* Armand
… I’m so glad ye came ‘ere … it’s been a long time since anyone’s made me feel so …
well, so special, an’ so able t’ enjoy life again, savvy? I …
I wish things were different … *she looks up, sees the concern in his face* I
don’t mean t’ say I don’t want t’ see ye anymore … far from it … but, so many things in
me life are … uncertain right now. I’m afraid yer timin’ isn’t
optimal, as it were.
Armand: Well, it’s the risk I took, dropping in unannounced. *brings her hand up to his lips, kisses it* No regrets, as
far as I’m concerned. *looks at her carefully* Would you rather I leave?
Manouche: Oh no, luv, I’d rather ye stay. But
… I jus’ can’t promise what’ll come of us. I weren’t
jokin’ when I told ye Malachi’s name fer me … trouble girl, aye, it’s a well earned title …
an’ even beyond some inherent danger lurkin’ about … it’s … it’s still …
Armand: It’s too soon …
Manouche *nods* Aye, I reckon it is. *looks up at him
regretfully* I’m sorry …
Armand: I’m not. I still have no regrets. *smiles* No pressure, all right? I understand if you have things to sort out.
But if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll stick around awhile.
I like this town, and … well, you never know, I could prove very useful to you one day.
Manouche *smiles* Ye already ‘ave, mate.
Waitress *approaches
the table, hands Manouche a piece of paper* Manouche, right? The barkeep said to give you this. It was left here for you
a little while ago …
Manouche *puzzled,
takes the note* Fer me? Who’s
it from?
Waitress: I saw the guy drop it off … it was that squirrelly guy with glasses, always
carrying books … the one who lives at Chateau Blanchefort. *grins, leans
closer* Hey, I hear you’re richer’n Portsmith now, is that true? I read the Pomp and Circumstance article,
that’s quite a place …
Manouche *looks
at the piece of paper, mumbles* Corso.
*glances at waitress, nods* Ahh, aye, that’s th’ rumor, luv
… how ‘bout bringin’ us a coupla glasses o’ brandy, ay? *looks
at Armand, winks* An’ what’ll you be ‘avin’? *Armand laughs, the waitress leaves to fill their order, and Manouche opens the note, frowns* “Th’ deal is off” … an’ it looks like th’ Inspector’s handwritin’. *scowls* That blasted Corso, if he’s
playin’ tricks with notes again, I swear I’ll kill ‘im. Can’t
believe he’d do that again after I warned ‘im …
Armand: Corso … Isn’t he the one you told me about, the one who’s so fond
of books?
Manouche: Aye … so?
Armand *points
at the note* That’s torn out of a book.
*squints, reading it from across the table* Looks like it’s from
a book about jewelry appraisal. If he’s so crazy about books … well,
it seems odd that he would tear a page out of a book to write a note.
Manouche *smirks* Aye, it’s true, Corso goes catatonic if ye so much as breathe heavy on some
o’ his volumes. I once saw Portsmith dog-ear a page in one o’ Corso’s
favorite books, an’ I thought he— *voice trails off, she looks at
the note again* Blimey … then it mus’ be from th’ Inspector
after all. “Th’ deal is off” … what could he …
*she holds the note close, concentrates; her eyes widen, she crumples the page as her fingers tighten around it* Oh, bloody ‘ell … it can’t be … what’s he thinkin’? *she jumps up* Apologies, luv, I got t’ be on me way
immediately. ‘Ave them brandies fer me, savvy? *she leans down, kisses him on the cheek, and runs out the door, heads for Bournemouth House*
On The Apparition:
Ichy *confused* Aren't you going to watch over them, that's what you always do, and give them the coordinates? Where exactly are we going? I hope we are
not going to Tortuga. Catalina would be a better starting point for a new
life. I have heard that Catalina is a popular place to elope to, because you
can get an instant divorce without having to hear the other’s part, so we’ll have to be there before your
husband finds out about us. And we can get married at once after the divorce.
Miranda *Smiling sweetly* I'd much rather watch over you, my love. Let
him get everything ready to sail and get us away from Deppville. Catalina sounds
ideal and after we're married we can sell this ship and
go live anywhere you want.
How does that sound, darling?
Ichy *stares at her with
wide eyes* Would you be ready to give up your ship for me? I have never heard you talk like this before. I am …
I am deeply touched, but you don't have to give it up for me, you can do as you want and I would follow you anywhere now that
my dream has finally come true, after all these years that I have loved you and after giving up all hope. *embraces her* We were meant for each
other. *The ship creaks, he frowns* Why
does it take so long to take off?
Miranda: But I have no need of a ship. I want a real home with just
you and me. I want to be a wife finally and make you happy. Don't worry my love, I'm certain he's doing the best he can. We'll
be on our way soon.
Raven *having
shifted into white raven to follow Miranda and Ichy, swoops down onto the main deck of The Apparition. He shimmers,
returns to his usual shape, then starts searching for his mother, finally makes his way down to her cabin. The door
is closed, and he's still unsure how to deal with it, so he stands close to the door, listening to her and Ichy talk; finally,
he impulsively swings the door open, stares at them both* M-Mother ... it's me, Raven ... what are you doing here, where
are you going?
Miranda *Startled,
stares at the boy. She seen and heard enough in her ghostly state to know that
he is Kat and Abberline's son. She had no desire to hurt him or anyone else for
that matter. All she wants is to live the life that was denied her. He is only a boy.* Raven, you shouldn't be here.
You're old enough to understand that that things don't always work out the way you want. I'm
sorry child, but I'm going away and I want you to return home to your father.* Feeling
sympathy for him, she adds* But always remember that your mother loves you, no
matter where she is. Now you should hurry, your father will be worried about
you. Run along.
Raven: B-but … you’re not my mother … you’re someone else. You can’t do this … she loves my father. *he turns
imploringly to Crane* Constable Crane, please don’t take her away. She – she’s not who you think she is … but … I don’t
know who she is … *starts to tremble*
Ichy *cocks an eyebrow* Whatever are you talking about, boy? Of
course I know who she is. *continues more softly* But I understand that you are confused. I know that this must
be hard for you to understand, but your mother, she loves me now, as she did before, and … *glancing at Kat/Miranda*
… you must know that even if it were so, your father does not love your mother, his real feelings are elsewhere, and
he is doing a great wrong by taking her for the child's sake. Once we get far
from here, she will forget him. I want you to come with us, Raven. After all, I am still your legal guardian, and I do not want to separate
her from you. That would be cruel to both of you. Your father has not been much of a father and husband and in his selfishness he would only destroy you both
with time. She is safe with me. I
could never treat her badly.
In an undisclosed location:
Abberline *wakes up with
a bad headache, slowly returning to consciousness, feeling ill and suffocated, and he panics when he understands that
he's gagged, he tries to struggle up and free himself, but his hands are firmly secured by cold chains that clink as he struggles
but don't give in at all, and there is total darkness all around him ... After
a while he calms down, as the panic recedes and he's able to think clearly again and slowly his eyes adjust to the darkness.
He lies on the floor of a smallish space looking like a cell or a cellar, and
the chains he's secured with are fastened to the wall. The last thing he remembers is drinking the brandy with
Nate, an utterly foolish thing to do, but he has no memory of being so drunk as to pass out completely, but evidently that's
what he did. And then he remembers what he saw in the monitor, Kat with
Constable Crane, in his own house, on his own sofa, and he feels both anger and grief, and tries to free himself again though he
knows it's useless, it only makes him out of breath and he feels a nasty sting in the chest, and for a moment he fears that
he's going to die in this dark desolate room and he forces himself to relax.*
Nate *upstairs, to Marchand,
hearing the chains rattling* He’s coming around.
Marchand: So it would seem.
Nate: Maybe we should keep him knocked out. He has that sense about
him. What if he brings the boy?
Marchand *grins* You fool … that’s exactly what we want him to do. He was the best hostage we could hope for. He’ll bring
them all right to us … all three of them. We won’t have to round
them up. And this time, my dear Nate, I do hope you can be counted on to not
let them escape. I’m very patient, but my patience is running out. This time, we won’t fail.
Nate: You can count on me, mate. *pauses* You … you’ll still let me take my time with them, as you promised before,
won’t you?
Marchand *dryly* Let’s secure them here first, then we’ll talk about your extra-curricular
activities. Oh, and Nate, this is your last chance. You’d best hope it all goes accordingly, or I’ll be taking my time with YOU.
Nate *shivers,
says nothing, reaches for the brandy*
Abberline *in the cellar,
cursing himself for letting Nate overpower him so easily once again, knowing he could have had the situation
under control if he hadn't seen that damned tape, and instead of thinking about his situation, he concentrates on Kat. How many times has this happened already? Maybe they have been going
on all the time behind his back, and she telling him the lies that she loves him and that she's never said
that to another man … maybe so, but there are better ways to show it to a man than speaking. The only feeling he is still having for her is anger, and it starts to turn to hate when he thinks
all the times she was with him, playing with him, just using him ... and he feels another sting when he thinks of
Raven, but then he sees Kat again, pregnant with his baby, in the arms of another man ... *
At Chateau Blanchefort:
Corso *returns home after
managing to park the car in an obscure spot where no one saw it was left there by him. He frowns as he sees
the damage done in his study - a monitor is easy to replace but the book the Inspector ripped is an entirely different
matter. He picks up the book and strokes it like it were wounded and hurt, and
he sniffs on thinking of human cruelty and ignorance that never cease to amaze him. He
lays down the book, takes off his glasses and wipes his eyes as he with a solemn expression lifts the book on the
shelf where he stores unfortunate books and manuscripts that have no value at all but which are too
dear for him to part with.* Bloody bastard, I hope I can pay him back someday!
*The he calls a servant
to take out the monitor and bring a new one, and when he gets it up and running, he checks what camera view he left on
when he logged in last. He sees Bournemouth House, surprised, because he is not
interested at that location at all. Seems that the Inspector checked on his own
house while he was away. Nothing seems to be happening, and Corso rewinds out of pure curiosity to the time when he
was looking after a car, and he starts when he gets the scene, and with a huge grin he tapes it and sends it
to different recipients, including Portsmith, who will no doubt love the clip, and Sebastian and Andrew, to
let them snicker over the Inspector fooled by his unfaithful wife. Fate
seems to smile on him as he thinks how the arrogant Inspector looked when he saw the tape, and he laughs out loud at
thinking about his reaction, accident indeed. The tape is well worth one
broken monitor. He sends the clip to Charlie* Payback
time, mate ...
At Bournemouth House:
Manouche *runs
up to house breathlessly, calling out* Raven!
Raven, lil’ mate, I’m ‘ere … *she pounds on the front door, but there’s no answer. She tries it, finds it’s unlocked, walks inside. She searches everywhere, calling out for Raven, Kat, Abberline, sees that no one is there. She walks back outside, feeling a horrible sense of foreboding. She
tries to concentrate, but anything coming through to her is a little vague … then a picture comes into focus, and she
sees that Raven is at The Apparition, and she sighs with relief. If he’s
there, then Kat’s probably there, as well. She chides herself for not having
thought of that sooner; half the time, if Kat isn’t home, she’s on her beloved ship. She turns back to the house, to shut the front door, then her spine stiffens at the feeling of someone
standing close behind her, and she knows who it is. She sighs, turns to see the
Leader* Gettin’ a mite impatient ‘ere lately, aren’t ye, mate? I told ye I’d let ye know when I’m ready.
Leader: I figured under the circumstances, you may be ready now.
Manouche *frowns* What circumstances are ye talkin’ about?
Leader *looks
at her, surprised* You’re slipping, dreamer. Concentrate. *he waves a hand before her face, as if to help
her along*
Manouche *looks
at him suspiciously, then concentrates … she sees a room she recognizes as one in Bournemouth House, but the furnishings
are different, from another era … she then sees a young woman, very pretty, but she’s backing away from someone
or something, her eyes wide with horror … it turns out to be a man, coming at her with a knife … he’s soon
upon her, and he stabs her many times, repeating over and over, “Miranda … my beautiful, perfect, innocent bride”
… when she finally lies dead at his feet, her husband wipes his knife off with the edge of his jacket, explaining to
her that she now would be his innocent bride for all eternity. Manouche then
sees the house evolve, furnishings changing with the times, residents coming and going, the house sometimes changing hands
due to stories of a haunting, the ghost of the young murdered bride, Miranda … then the scene changes and Manouche sees
the living room of the house as she knows it today … she sees Kat lying on the floor, she herself is crouched down next
to her, Abberline watching anxiously, and she sees herself place her hand on the bleeding tattoo … she feels a new terror
as she now sees the ghost of Miranda hovering over the scene, and placing her ghostly hand over Manouche’s … the
spirit was drawn in through Manouche’s hand, just before the tattoo itself started sucking blood from her lifeline,
and she realizes with a shock that Miranda has taken possession of Kat* Oh, by
th’ powers …
Leader: Keep going.
Manouche *glances
at him fearfully, then concentrates again … sees Kat and Abberline arguing, she’s not sure what they’re
talking about, though she’s pretty certain it’s about his determination to go after Marchand, which Alifi had
warned her about … he leaves the room, and soon after, Crane arrives at the house carrying bags, he’s come to
say goodbye to Kat … she brings him into the living room and Manouche is amazed to see her start kissing Crane, begging
him not to leave … then she hears her thoughts:* No bride should be denied her wedding night. Now I'll have mine. Life is so wasted on the living. *And
she understands … it’s not Kat, it’s Miranda, making love with Crane*
B-blimey, no wonder Raven were so confused … *she looks at the Leader anxiously*
Didn’t lil’ mate pick up on all this? I’ve got t’
set ‘im straight … *turns to go to the ship*
Leader *places
firm hand on her shoulder, stopping her* One more … you’ve forgotten
someone …
Manouche *knows
even before he finishes the sentence who he’s talking about, and a cold wave of fear sweeps over her as she concentrates,
tries to see Abberline. It’s difficult, she doesn’t know why, but
the effort makes her head throb; she finally sees him, in a dark cellar, chained, gagged, but she can’t tell where it
is. Then she nearly swoons as she hears the horrible laugh* No … oh, no … *she sinks down to the ground, tears filling her eyes. She looks up at the Leader* Nate … an’ …
M-Marchand …
Leader *nods* They have him, he’s not getting away.
They will hold him until you, and the mother and child surrender yourselves and the box.
Manouche: D-does he know about … about Kat an’ Constable Crane?
Leader: What on earth does it matter? *makes
an impatient sound* I believe he thinks Kat has run off with Crane.
Manouche *lowers
her head for a few minutes, weeping. She looks up, eyes red* C-can ye fix all that, as well?
Leader: I don’t know … we’ll try.
Look, you’re wasting valuable time talking about details. If you’re
so worried about that, send Abberline a thought about his wife, he’ll pick up on it and then he’ll know it wasn’t
her. *shakes head* Really, the things
you humans get worked up over …
Manouche *glares
at him, jumps up, grabs him by the front of his robe, pulls him close, furious* Shut
it. I’ve ‘ad enough o’ that kinda talk, savvy? Y’ want me to cooperate, ye can show a bit o’ compassion, or we’ll ferget th’ whole
bloody thing.
Leader *considers
teaching her a lesson, thinks better of it; she’s a very special case, worth the exercise in patience. He has
to admit, he's impressed with her bravery, foolhardy though it is* Very well,
dreamer. *pauses* Are you ready
to go now?
Manouche *considers
everything carefully. There’s no way around it, she can’t stall any
longer. Now is the time, and then no one will ever have to worry about it again,
everyone will be safe, Marchand will be vanquished, Abberline will be released from that horrible place. She pushes aside the despair in her heart for all she’ll miss, because she knows if she thinks about
it too much, she’ll lose her nerve and she won’t go through with it, and all could very well be lost. She nods slowly* Aye.
Ye win, mate. I’ll come with ye now.
I’ll show ye where th’ box is hidden, an’ we’ll put an end t’ all this. But … give me a minute, all right? I … I need
t’ try an’ let th’ Inspector know … it’ll ease his mind considerable if I can get that through
t’ him. *Leader nods, steps back a couple of steps, and Manouche closes
her eyes, concentrates as hard as she can, explains everything to Abberline, that it wasn’t Kat he saw, she tries to
quickly explain about the ghost, and she hopes he can sense her thoughts, hopes he’ll understand what she’s saying.* Au revoir, Fred … apologies, luv, thanks fer tryin’ … but …
th’ deal is on. *she slowly opens her eyes, face pale, starts to fall,
and the Leader reaches out and grabs her arm to steady her. She nods at him,
suddenly feels very calm* Ch-cheers, mate.
Let’s get on with it. To yer boat … we’ll ‘ave
to sail to th’ location where I hid th’ blasted thing. *They leave
Bournemouth House and set off for the smaller harbor on the other side of town, where the Shadows’ boats are moored. She allows herself to be led away, the Leader’s hand firm upon her shoulder;
but she knows he needn’t worry. She’s through running*
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