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The Story of Miss Violet Parr
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Violet Parr
Violet Parr
Thespian

Feb-9-2007 16:26

Miss Violet Parr smiled politely at the beggar who nearly bumped into her as she walked as fast as she possibly could through the streets of New York. Though Miss Parr felt sick to the stomach, she managed to smile at someone most people around her managed to ignore. The man, puzzled, looked at her from behind his shoulder as he walked away.

Adamant that she should not physically run into another person or, worse yet, an automobile, Violet Parr sat on the steps of a rundown bakery. Her mind twirled with the thoughts that attacked it when she was checking out of the Broadway Plaza Hotel.

She braced herself and tried very hard to empty her mind from thoughts… She could not…

Violet Parr was very good at escaping her present moments. She easily drifted away in thought, though she always attempted to conceal her daydreaming as much as possible. Nevertheless, she could never escape the past. Thoughts of her last visit to New York crept into her mind despite her.

She glanced at the New York streets and sidewalks absentmindedly as her mind dragged her back into the alleys of her memory.


Replies

Breitkat
Breitkat
Pinball Amateur

Feb-14-2007 02:06

Doug shrugged back, "Fair enough." Then he crossed to the door, knocked twice, and stuck his head through, " 'Scuse me, Sirs. Our witness is being a bit reluctant. She's under the impression that we've been trying to kill her."

Two men entered the small office at that, both tall, one thin with graying hair and a full mustache, the second extremely portly, balding, and a stern look on his face.

"So we heard, Douglas," the second one grumbled. He eyed Violet dourly, "Perhaps you recognize the Prime Minister, Miss Parr?"

Violet's jaw dropped in shock as she recognized both men. "Lord Churchill. Your Honour, Mr. MacDonald, Sir. My apologies."

Prime Minister Ramsay MacDonald leaned against the desk, "There's a great deal more at stake here than you may be aware of, Miss Parr. England needs your help," he said quietly.

Winston Churchill clamped his cigar between his teeth, his jowls heavy against his collar. "I suggest you tell these men what they need to know, dear girl," he muttered gruffly, "Unless you think we're imposters also?"

Violet laughed nervously, "Of course not, Milord!"

Churchill chewed on his cigar, "Mmm," then cocked an eyebrow at Doug and Charlie, "Gentlemen?"

Doug smiled silently to himself, "Thank you, Mr. Churchill, Mr. MacDonald." He then turned to Violet, "Would you please tell us how you know Barry Grant, and why you have so many people trying to kill you, Miss Parr?"

He folded his arms across his chest and waited patiently along with the other men for Violet's response....

Violet Parr
Violet Parr
Thespian

Feb-14-2007 14:05

Miss Violet Parr’s left hand instinctively removed the scarf around her head in a very gentle manner, exposing her long dark hair. Though Miss Parr felt sick to her stomach with fear and intimidation, she was determined to keep a proper, collected demeanor about her before a man which she held with the highest regard.

She could not believe she was before the Prime Minister MacDonald, and not any Prime Minister at that! Mr. MacDonald was the first Labour Prime Minister, a political partly she deeply supported. He was also the first from a working-class background and probably one of the very few without a university education.

She glanced at Churchill with distaste, but, alas, she shook off her political sensitivities in the face of greater ones: Miss Violet Parr has always been very sensitive when her own well-being was concerned. Though she was sure that she was currently under the rule of law, she was nervous with fright at the suggestion of someone wanting her killed.


Violet Parr
Violet Parr
Thespian

Feb-14-2007 14:09

Miss Parr addressed Ramsay MacDonald: “Prime Minister… It is indeed an honour to be in your presence. I shall endeavour to reveal all I know concerning this matter if it is to be of any service to His Majesty’s Crown…” then glancing at Douglas Samson, her fiancée for the day, she continued. “… or to any of our loyal Allies…”

She masterfully controlled her nerves and arched an eyebrow as she calmly started to take off her deep violet gloves in a theatrical show of calm serenity and tranquil composure. “Mr. Samson, in response to your earlier inquiries, please allow me to apologise in advance for my rash and irresponsible behaviour. I may have committed an offence in entering the facility where Mr. Barry Grant was hospitalized. In retrospect, I realise that my visit carried a lot of unnecessary risk for the both of us, but I acted on impulse and had ensure his well-being.

“My connection to Mr. Grant goes back more than a decade when he first started his career as a private detective. I was but a student back then and was in grave trouble. Mrs. Arabella Arundel was my aunt-”

She was then rudely interrupted by Charlie. “Arabella Arundel? The wife of the deceased George Arundel? British Diplomat in India?”

Miss Parr, though irritated, managed to continue. “Indeed Sir. My Aunt Arabella was rich & elderly… She had three nieces, two nephews, a sister, a son, and a daughter-in-law: all of whom badly needed money. We all spent Easter with her every year in her lavish Estate in Delhi where her late husband used to be posted as a British Diplomat –as the gentleman kindly pointed out."

Violet Parr
Violet Parr
Thespian

Feb-14-2007 14:11

"Across time, Aunt Arabella has several curious accidents: She fell of the stairs, her boat sunk, and the large portrait hung above her bed fell upon her as she slept. Perhaps all these were mere accidents –perhaps they weren’t.

She survived all these accidents, but her suspicions were aroused. She wrote to me about these occurrences, but by the time I received her letter – she was dead.”

Charlie was quick to cut the dramatic silence. “Tragic Miss Parr, but what does this have to do with Barry Grant.”

“Why, Mr. Grant was the detective responsible for investigating Aunt Arabella’s murder.” Violet was quick to respond. “Of course I was a suspect, we all were. I had no alibi. Nevertheless, Mr. Grant showed me humanity, compassion and understanding during that period of my life that I shall never forget. He disregarded me from his list of probable suspects depending solely upon his instinct and good nature.

“He solved this difficult case risking a false accusation on his part, and I was to be in his debt forever. Though I came across Mr. Grant once or twice after that, he never recalled me or remembered the Arundel case until I wrote to him privately about it. I can say with strong conviction that Mr. Grant is a true gentleman. The least I could do during such a testing time of his life was to see him and ensure he was healthy.”


Violet Parr
Violet Parr
Thespian

Feb-14-2007 14:15

“Miss Parr…” Douglas Samson tried to be as courteous as he can. “I appreciate your honourable sentiments towards Mr. Barry Grant, but I cannot possibly comprehend how these feelings could possibly justify you violating his privacy and security as you did. The flowers you sent him were more than enough it seems to convey your feelings.”

Miss Parr let out a very heavy sigh. “I also needed to warn him. I believe Mr. Grant to be in grave danger… I do not claim to know or understand the implications of this danger… but this is what I had to go on…”

Violet Parr then recounted in detail her meeting with Mr. Frank Georges, the previous owner of the Marquee theatre, and the Arab man who interrupted them. She continued to detail all she understood from the Arabic conversation and the fact the Mr. Georges attempted convincing her that they were actually speaking in Turkish.


Violet Parr
Violet Parr
Thespian

Feb-14-2007 14:35

“Then there is the shocking case of Miss Sahira Quadir.” Violet continued. “Miss Quadir, I believe, works for either Mr. Georges or the Arab man who met with him that day. She is a very shady woman whom followed me the day I planned to check out of the Broadway Plaza and was overly friendly to me… I did not notice that her name was Arabic back then… I felt so lonely and she was very pleasant to me… It wasn’t until after I left the Hotel that I managed to piece the puzzle together.”

Miss Parr then recalled the elaborate hoax at the Broadway Plaza designed to keep her trapped there for as long as possible and proceeded to detail it to the gentlemen before any of them got a chance to speak up.


Breitkat
Breitkat
Pinball Amateur

Feb-14-2007 22:20

After Miss Parr was finished, Prime Minister MacDonald and Lord Churchill, and Douglas and Charlie all exchanged brooding looks.

"Gel thinks Sahira's a damned traitor," Churchill muttered darkly, "Prince Isa's gonna LOVE that."

A flash of irritation crossed Violet's face, "I'm sorry, Sir?"

MacDonald shook his head slightly, then answered her for Churchill, "Please forgive Lord Churchill, Miss Parr. We didn't realize you weren't aware of who Sahira really was. Her father is the Emir of Bahrain, Isa ibn Salman Al Khalifah. She and her brother, Aziz, one of the Prince's younger sons, are working for the Americans at the moment, helping them out. She's no more a betrayer than Lord Churchill or I am."

Violet's jaw dropped slightly at that, "Oh my God."

Doug spoke up then, "There's also a very good reason why Sahira was at the hotel. She's been one of Mr. Grant's caretakers since he arrived there. She was being friendly to you because she recognized your description, and was trying to approach you, as quite a few of my people have been in the last few days."

His eyes turned cold, and he frowned at her, "You should probably be thanking her, Miss Parr. Only a few minutes after she finished speaking with you, she was attacked by an assassin and almost killed. We think the man mistook Sahira for you. Sahira was wearing your scarf at the time of the attack."

The color leached from Violet's face, and she sank into a nearby chair. "Oh my GOD!" she whispered.

The four men exchanged significant looks again.

Lord Churchill chewed his cigar for a moment, "It would seem Mr. Grant isn't the only one with enemies lurking about, my dear."

Breitkat
Breitkat
Pinball Amateur

Feb-15-2007 02:04

The Prime Minister glanced at Doug, "Perhaps we should have the Yard look into providing Miss Parr some protection, and search for any more possible adversaries that Miss Parr may not be aware of. I trust you'll be informing your colleagues at the Stanton Building about these developments?"

Doug nodded thoughtfully, "Yessir. I'm sure the Admiral and the Captain will be very interested to hear about that concierge at the Hotel. I'll also have them start tracking down this Frank Georges guy, and see if they can find out precisely what happened to the Marquee."

"Mmm," Charlie rubbed his chin pensively, "Might also be a thought ta track down summa ta chaps what worked at that theatre. P'rhaps they might know this Arab the lass mentioned."

Lord Churchill studied his cigar, then clamped it between his teeth again, "Might also be an idea to have Aziz or one of his boys look into that." He cocked an eyebrow at MacDonald, "We should probably have the Yard put out bulletins on this man Georges and the Arab, in case they jumped the Pond."

The Prime Minister nodded his agreement to that, just as there was a knock at the Entrance door. "Come," he called.

A young clerk poked her head in the door, " 'Scuse me, Sir? There's a telephone call from the Home Office for the Prime Minister, and this just came over the wire from New York. The Secretary said it was urgent." She handed MacDonald a decoded telegram.

"Damned Gilmour," Churchill growled, "He's worse than a mother-in-law. You'd think the man could go for more than ten minutes at a time without someone holding his hand."

The Prime Minister groaned softly, then looked over at the clerk, "Tell Lord Gilmour I'll call him back in a minute, please, Sophie. I'm in an intelligence briefing at the moment. Thank you."

The clerk disappeared as MacDonald scanned the message. He studied it for a moment, then looked up sharply at Miss Parr, "Perhaps you have more enemies than you realize, my dear."

Breitkat
Breitkat
Pinball Amateur

Feb-15-2007 02:25

She looked up at him, perplexed again, "I don't understand, Your Honour?"

MacDonald read the telegram out loud,

To Violet Parr (stop)
Thank you for warning (stop)
Intruder caught inside hotel (stop)
Being questioned now (stop)
Says his name is Arundel (stop)
Barry Grant

He handed her the slip to look at. "Sounds like someone from your past is extremely interested in finding you."

He looked over at Doug, "You'll update your people on all this?" Doug nodded to him. "Good. Would you also have Mr. Roosevelt and your General Winters cable me at their earliest convenience, please? We may need to have a sitdown between our two countries on all this."

"Yessir, I'll have them contact you," Doug replied.

The Prime Minister smiled fleetingly, worry gleaming briefly in his eyes, "Good. Thank you, Mr. Samson. You'll see to Miss Parr, please?" At Doug's nod again, he turned to Violet, "If you'll excuse us, Miss, Lord Churchill and I need to go deal with the Home Office. It was a pleasure to meet you."

Churchill patted the dumbfounded young woman's shoulder, a sympathetic note curbing his usual gruff brusqueness, "I'm sorry, my dear. We'll do all we can to help." He eyed Doug and Charlie balefully, "Won't we, gentlemen?"

Charlie nodded respectfully, "Yessir, Milord."

And with that, they were gone....

Violet Parr
Violet Parr
Thespian

Feb-15-2007 15:11

As Churchill made his final address to her, Miss Parr’s mind had managed to escape his kind words. She was trying to collect her thoughts, and attempting to organize them: this was too much information to absorb in such little time.

Sahira Quadir was a Shaikha, daughter of an Emir, Isa ibn Salman Al Khalifah, Emir of Bahrain. Violet shuddered at the thought that she may have gotten so close to sealing the fate of Sahira, and unintentionally putting her life in danger. The political implications of such an occurrence flashed through Violet’s mind. She wondered if the Arabic man at Mr. Georges’ office also came from Bahrain.

Though Bahrain, a tiny Island State in the Arabian Gulf, was not officially part of the Commonwealth, it was nevertheless a Protectorate of the British Crown –an oil rich Protectorate at that! She could not believe that she accused Sahira Quadir, daughter to the Emir of a British Protectorate, of malicious intent before the Prime Minister.

Who would attempt to murder such a fragile girl like Sahira? Worse yet, who would want her dead?! Violet could not think of any personal enemies… Of course many of the suspects she dealt with throughout her career as a detective did not like her, but who would loathe her enough to want her dead?


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