Carol Clark - Fleeced

“Next location?” Daphne said with a puzzled look on her face. “I thought that this was it.”

“No. We’re going to my loft downtown. That’s where we will shoot the climactic scene, when Pumpkin and Lothar decide they are going to move to Australia and buy a sheep farm.”

“Brilliant idea!” Pumpkin called from the doorway.

“No, Pumpkin, you’re brilliant. A brilliant actress. You’re giving a multilayered, textured performance that is going to knock the critics’ socks off,” Jacques pronounced with a wave of his cigarette holder. “When you picked up the sheep and hugged it, I was blown away.”

“It’s your direction!” Pumpkin said liltingly as she ran toward Jacques for one of their post-acting hugs. “I was so in the moment thanks to your trust.”

“Well, thanks to your being in the moment, I figured out the perfect way to end the story. Now let’s load up the truck. And don’t forget the sheep.”

Daphne sat listening to the two biggest phonies she’d ever met in show business, and she was more and more annoyed with each word. But when she heard that they were going to take off with Nat and Wendy’s sheep, she jumped up. “You can’t take those sheep. They belonged to a couple, now deceased, who belonged to the club and wanted them to stay here in the front parlor.”

“We’ll bring them back,” Jacques said.

“I still don’t think it’s right. The president of our club isn’t here right now, so we can’t ask him.”

Jacques walked over to Daphne and took her hand in his and kissed it. “I’m sure we can give you a real part in this final scene. If you’d like…”

“Playing what?” Daphne asked tentatively.

“The beautiful and wealthy owner of the sheep farm, who has just moved to New York.”

“Let’s go,” Daphne agreed quickly.

Jacques grabbed his walking stick from his ever present assistant, raised it in the air, and cried, “We’re off!”

Stand back,” the Emergency Services Unit officer called out to Janey. “I’ve got the gear to break down the door.”

“What gear?” Janey yelled.

“A hatchet.”

“A hatchet?” Janey cried.

“A hatchet,” he confirmed. “It’s a beauty.”

“Be careful,” she urged, then remembered to add, “please.”

“I’ll try. How much room you got in there?”

“Not much.”

Thomas whimpered. He and Regan were standing at the other end of the kitchen. The apartment was full of detectives, patrolmen, and emergency services personnel.

“Well, here goes.” The ESU officer lifted the hatchet over his head and brought it back down against the door. The metal head struck the heavy wood with a snapping, crackling sound not unlike twigs burning in a fireplace.

There goes Ben’s security deposit, Regan thought.

It took several minutes, but finally bits of the door had been hacked away. Another few minutes and Janey was stepping through the jagged opening and running into Thomas’s waiting arms.

Murmurs of relief and “good job” rippled through the kitchen. One of the police officers stepped into the living room to pass along the good news to the cluster of folks out there and in the hallway, including a couple of neighbors and the building’s superintendent.

Regan stood back as Janey and Thomas locked themselves in a passionate embrace. She certainly doesn’t seem as meek as she did this morning, Regan thought. Well, it’s the quiet ones who will get you every time.

“Miss,” one of the detectives said to Janey, when she and Thomas finally unhinged from each other. “I’m going to need to talk to you.”

“May I use the powder room first?”

“Of course.”

While Janey disappeared down the hallway with her purse, Regan decided to take a quick look in the bedroom. She hadn’t had a chance to look for Ben’s journal once they realized Janey was locked in the closet.

The bedroom was a mess. Ben’s nightstand had been emptied onto the floor. His closet had been picked apart. Photographs, books, papers, and clothes were strewn all over. Regan lifted up a few of the papers, a couple of pairs of pants, and then she spotted a spiral notebook sticking out from under the bed.

Regan picked it up and opened it. It was Ben’s journal! The first page was marked January 1st of this year. She quickly flipped through the pages. The last entry was dated Wednesday, March 10th. Two days ago. Unbelievable.

It was a fairly brief entry.

Well tomorrow is our big day to break the news to Thomas at the club. It’s exciting. The big party is Saturday. I told Nat I wanted to invite a date. He told me he’s breaking up with his girlfriend. He said it would embarrass him to bring her to the party because of their age difference. I told him fuhgedaboutit!

Regan turned back the pages. There were more brief entries that didn’t reveal much. And then the one marked February 28th was longer.

Today Nat and I went bowling. We got to talking about Sadie Hawkins Day. I said it was too bad there was no February 29th this year. Maybe some nice lady would ask me out. He started to laugh, and I knew something was up. Finally he admits he’s been seeing someone a little bit. The sly devil! He said he likes her, but there’s only one problem. When you get close, her perfume is so strong. I told him to go buy her a new bottle. I said maybe I’ll find someone and we can go to the club’s anniversary party together. Then he said he felt guilty. I said, about what? Wendy? She’d want you to be happy. He just shook his head and said he didn’t want to talk about it. So I let it go. I still say a double date would be fun.

Regan flipped through the remaining pages. No name of the girlfriend. No other references to her. Oh, Ben, why didn’t you ask Nat her name?

Regan dropped the notebook on the bed in frustration and walked into the living room. Thomas was sitting with his arm protectively around Janey as she answered the detective’s questions. “Her perfume was kind of strong,” Janey noted.

Regan paused. Perfume? But then she heard a voice in the doorway and turned her head quickly. Mary Ruffner was scribbling notes as she talked to Officer Dowling. “… so she came here to pick up the food she had dropped off yesterday…”

I can just imagine tomorrow’s headlines, Regan thought.

By the time Thorn got his act together, he realized he would not be able to make a Friday evening flight to New York City. Instead, he opted to go into London for dinner in one of his favorite restaurants, spend the night in a hotel, and head to the airport in the morning.

A much more civilized departure.

One of the problems with living so far out in the country was that things had to be planned in advance. But Thorn wouldn’t trade his situation for the world. His butler school was on a magnificent estate-the perfect setting for such an establishment.

Hours before daylight, Thorn lay awake in his bed at the Andrews Hotel. He was restless, tossing and turning so much that the bedcovers were turning into a knotty mess. He had an early morning flight, and the news from Cousin Archibald that he wanted to buy the Settlers’ Club was too delicious to be true. Thorn expected to destroy Maldwin’s career, but then to set up his own butler school in the very building where Maldwin had failed was beyond his wildest dreams.

Suddenly, Thorn bolted up in the bed. He had a brilliant idea. He would contact his friend in New York in the morning. He turned on the light and grabbed the hotel notepad and pen sitting by the phone. He jotted down some ideas and dropped the pad back into the night table drawer.