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The Daughters of Miss Violet Parr
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Violet Parr
Violet Parr
Thespian

Feb-25-2009 03:59


Leopold Parr walked as fast as he possibly could in and around Victoria Station. The young officer had anticipated the arrival of his younger sister with great trepidation. He finally saw her waiting for him in a mauve overcoat and a large purple hat through the window of one of the station’s waiting rooms.

When Miss Violet Parr got up and walked out of the waiting room, Leopold’s walk turned into a sprint as he finally reached Violet and hugged her tightly in a collision of joy.

Violet pushed hard against his force not to fall on her back. She kissed him on the cheek and whispered. “Really Leopold, this show of affection can do with some self-restraint!”

“Two years in France…” Leopold replied, “…haven’t changed you a bit!”

“I know better than to let the French freely mold me to their pleasing!” Violet Parr huffed in a mock of indignation. Then she turned her gaze to a young girl standing next to her looking curiously and cautiously at Leopold. “…but I am afraid I can’t say the same about young Isabella.”

Leopold looked at his young niece in utter astonishment: Isabella was a pretty little thing with curiously mixed features. At such a young age, her skin looked like a yellowish tanned shade of ivory. She had long light brown hair, hazel eyes and a serious look of disapproval on her face.


Replies

Joey
Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-5-2009 14:01

“Ok…let’s see now what we have. A man was murdered on the train, Arabic, no ID, no nothing on him…other than Violet’s picture in an envelope with a missing letter and the cigarette case with…Frank Georges initials. The murderer may have been a woman dressed as a nun. I interrupted her, she got away and then she came back to make his body not able to be recognized. She planted the identification clues of another Arabic man, in connection somehow with Frank Georges. It seems to me she wanted the man on the train dead and she wanted his ID unknown. By replacing it with someone who Frank Georges might want out of the way, she points at him as the murderer. He’s disappeared long ago, so the case gets to dead end and she’s out in the clear: she’s not a suspect and nobody knows this man is dead. Now…the dead guy must have some connection Both to Frank Georges, as he was carrying a sign of him hidden, and also to Violet, as he had her picture. I need to find out who this man was…and also…what the hell happened to the real Abdul Malik. Hmmm…” Bane shook his head. “Still too many pieces missing in this puzzle.” He pulled out the cigarette case, studying it. Upon a minute or so of looking at it…”Damn!” He noticed an almost erased writing on the background engraving: “The Marquee Grand Hall.” The year of provenience was beyond recognition, but this discovery was enough for Bane to draw his conclusion: “This cigarette case is a Marquee hall asset from after Frank Georges’ disappearance. This means…maybe the dead man is connected not to him, but to his wife!”


At this point his chain of thoughts was abruptly interrupted as he noticed a man entering the door and approaching his table, upon exchanging a short gaze with the bartender. The fellow looked utterly common: medium height, medium build, wearing a casual squared jacket over a sweater and a wool cap. He seemed more like a regular worker on his day off rather than a man who could bring him an ‘easy cash job’.

Joey
Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-6-2009 06:21

The man came towards Joey’s table, eyeing him with a suspicious look. Bane took a sip from his glass and leaned back in his chair, gazing him straight in the eyes.

As the man touched with his hand the chair in front of Joey, Pierre lifted his head and pointed his eyes at the stranger. “Grrrr…”

The man gave him an ugly look. “Keep tha’ hideous cur on a leash, lad…or I’ma’ gonna make me a nice pair of gloves out of it!”

Bane put his hand on top of Pierre’s head, trying to get him to settle down. To his surprise, it worked. “Don’t worry about him there, fellow. He ain’t gonna do you no harm”…replied him out loud, and then added just for himself…”Maybe…” He pointed to the chair and the man took a seat.

They watched one another for a couple of seconds, not saying a word. Although it was just a short moment of silence, it felt like a whole lot of time. Finally Joey decided to break the tension and opened the conversation.

“I heard you might have a small…job for me?”

“Yo’ American?” the man avoided the answer.

“Now that’s kinda obvious, mate…ain’t it?” Bane realized the fellow was not just going to lay everything down on the table, so he decided to see how long his temper can hold him. If he was going to accept some strange job, he needed to have a clearer idea who he is dealing with.

“Yo’ arrived on the train last nigh’?” the man continued his questions.

“Maybe…” Bane started to pose a slight smile.

The man pinched the tip of his nose and leaned a bit ahead towards Joey. He was obviously starting to get annoyed. “What eva’ brings yo’r a’se he’e in London?”

“What’s it to you?”

Joey
Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-6-2009 06:22

At this the man got clearly annoyed. He placed both his elbows on the table and gazed Bane, arching his eyebrows a bit. He spoke then in a low, but deliberate voice:

“Now’ listen he’e, American! Yo’ all hillbillies come he’e from ova’ the ocean thinkin’ yo’ own the place and yo’ can do whatever yo’ want, like yo’ do back home. Now’ le’me give yo’ a piece o’ news: YO’ AIN’T IN YO’ SLEEZY BACK YARD!

Bane opened his mouth to say something, but the man interrupted him with a swift cut hand gesture and continued.

“Now’ hold that jaw and listen: I kno’w yo’ stayin’ on ol’ Babington’s boat. Tonigh’, one hour befo’ midnigh’ yo’ fetch it unda’ the Cannon Street Bridge. We’e gonna pick a package from the’e.”

“Just like that?” asked Bane with a slightly suspicious tone of voice.

“Jus’ like what?”

“You take me on this job without knowing anything about me?”

“Yo’ wanna dance o’ something’ before? Yo’ Americans are all the same. I know enough.”

“Ok…what’s the package, then?”

“Yo’ don’t need to know.”

“Where will we be going?”

“Yo’ don’t need to know that eithe’, American. Jus’ bring yo’ a’se ova’ the’e.” With this the man got up and turned his back, aiming for the door.

“Hold on, mate…what about the dough?”

He turned his head slightly and answered without stopping: “Yo’ll be paid the’e, don’ worry. Yo’ll be pain in full.” He exited the pub’s door in a hurry.

“Strange fellow…” mumbled Bane as his brain wheels started to roll…’Now this is strange…This guy accepted me in for this job too easy. This may mean it’s either a test run, or…I ain’t due to finish this alive. The “new guy” is always expendable. He didn’t worry either about my cash or about my background…as if he knew something about me. Hmmm…’

Joey gulped what was last of his drink and got up. “I definitely need to watch my back on this one.” He paid the check, got one more bottle for the road a

Joey
Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-6-2009 06:53

...and left towards his floating temporary home.

[Author's note: Sorry about this. Post limit function not working proper...I guess.]

Joey
Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-6-2009 14:49

In about a quarter of an hour Bane made his way to the small ferry. Upon stepping on it, he looked at the sky. It was already afternoon. Pierre followed him aboard, but he decided to go somewhere down below the deck. Bane reached his pocket in search for his cigarettes, but he found out he had finished them all. “Damn!” Turning away to go search for a tobacco shop, he remembered about the couple of cigarettes in the dead man’s case. “Well now…I’d say he ain’t gonna notice them missing”…mumbled him while opening it up.

At that point, a small ship passing by created a wave that shook his ferry a little. Attempting to maintain his balance, Bane dropped the cigarette case from his hand. It made a short cracking noise as it fell onto the wooden deck. Joey looked down upon it and…”I’ll be damned!”

Hitting the hard floor of the boat, the case had broken into pieces, letting now visible to the eye the existence of a hidden compartment. Apparently one of its pieces had a double bottom. The open compartment had let out a…letter!

“How the hell did I miss this before?”…mumbled Joey, picking it up. It looked as if it could fit the envelope with Violet’s picture from the train. Bane opened the paper and started reading it:...

Joey
Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-6-2009 14:50

‘Dear Mr. Esam,

My name is Douglas Watson and I write to you on behalf of Mrs. Aisha Georges, from the position of being her confident and legal advisor. We may not have much time at our disposal, so I will attempt to take the least possible of yours in reading this letter.

Mrs. Georges is currently fallen in ill and the doctors have all confirmed that her days are numbered. We are aware of the services you have provided her in the past, in regard of ensuring her and her reputation’s safety. Considering your loyalty towards Mrs. Georges, we have decided to entrust you with a final task, one that is highly important to her to be conducted towards its completion.

With no further introduction, please allow me to give you the details of the situation. During her youth, Mrs. Georges had given birth to a child, a daughter she had entrusted completely into the care of her father, Sir Albert Parr. She is now a young woman going by the name of Violet Parr. She is also the mother of two children, two daughters by the name of Isabella and Victoria Garrett.

Even though Mrs. Georges had never intended to have any contact with her daughter, life had brought them together at some point two years ago. As Mrs. Georges’ fought with her illness during the past few years, she had grown feelings of guilt towards her daughter and thus invested all her efforts and financial resources into finding her again. Unfortunately she did not encounter success into meeting her, but just into tracking down her location and also coming upon a piece of troubling information regarding her and her children’s safety being threatened.

At this point her resources are scarce, both material and physical, and considering her state she also had lost hope of ever seeing her again. Yet she had decided to make one last effort into protecting her and this letter is the result of her attempt.

Joey
Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-6-2009 14:51

The information she came upon is terrifying, but unfortunately not very detailed. Our sources told us that a certain group with an intense criminal activity has received a contract to kidnap one of Miss Parr’s daughters. We believe her name is Isabella. Apparently, one of the many activities of this group is to sell children to certain customers, people who cannot produce their own and have the resources to afford purchasing one in this manner. Not only that, but the group is acting based on specific orders, taking children that are previously analyzed, portrayed and have their bio presented to their clients as possible options.

We do not know any names or other details in regard of this group, but only that they have had their center of activity in New York and that the leaders seem to be a man and woman.

The last piece of information our sources had managed to acquire is that Miss Violet Parr is due to arrive to London by the time this letter will reach you.

In the light of what I have revealed, Mrs. Georges and I would like to ask of you one last favor: to reach and warn her daughter about this situation…if possible, also to ensure or at least contribute to her safety, until the moment you will consider that the sum enclosed in this envelope will end its coverage.

There is also one more mention Mrs. Georges had asked me to make, in regard of her husband, Mr. Georges. As you know, several years ago he disappeared and has not been seen since. Mr. Georges apparently tried to murder Mrs. Georges’ daughter once in the past out of the simple reason of jealousy. Later on, there was another incident in Miss Parr’s life, a blast on a train she was on, that Mrs. Georges also believes to have been her husband’s work.

Joey
Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-6-2009 14:52

Although up to this point we have no information whether Mr. Georges is still alive or not and also nothing points that what I have described above could be his doing, we ask you to be aware of this possibility and inform the proper authorities of any information you might come across in regard of him.

At last, in order to prove the veracity of this letter’s provenience, I have attached you the item you will find in this parcel. Also, I have included a picture of Violet Parr.

We thank you in advance for your service and wish you all the best.

Regards,
Douglas Watson

P.S. You may also attempt to inform the husband of Miss Violet Parr, yet we do not believe it to be a priority, as Mr. Clift Garret has been described to us as an adventurer with a taste in women and high profile cases, thus only reliable as long as his sentimental interests and hunger for fame are concerned.’

“Damn!” mumble Bane, pushing his hat to the back and rubbing his forehead. “Now this really gives me a headache. Let’s see if I got everything right: a criminal group led by a man and a woman wants to kidnap Isabella, to sell her to some rich folks. The dead guy on the train was sent by Violet’s mother to warn her. He was killed and his body disfigured so nobody would know who he is and thus they cut off the possibility of linking him to Mrs. Georges, the only person who might have spread light above what is going to happen. Instead they planted some evidence and a different identity to point towards Frank Georges as being suspect for his death. Georges is disappeared…maybe even already dead, so the police are set looking for a ghost while the real criminals get away with it. Smart…I need a drink.”

Joey
Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-6-2009 14:53

Joey opened the bottle he had brought with him and took a long gulp out of it, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He started grumbling again as he sat down. “Hmmm…I have to warn Miss Parr about this. She needs to lay low. Damn! With her taste in clothes, the woman is a freaking walking beacon! Well…at least she should be aware.” Upon searching around the cabin, Bane found a pencil and wrote something fast on the back of the letter:

‘Miss Parr,

By the will of fortune this letter had fallen into my hands and now I am delivering it to you. It appears your daughter Isabella is in danger. I cannot tell you more than it is written here, but only that the people who are intending to harm her are already in London. Please take all the necessary measures to ensure your and your daughter’s safety.

Joseph Bane’

Joey put the letter inside the envelope and decided to head for Violet’s agency headquarters…’Easier to find fast, rather than her house’…he figured.

“Hello there, Sir. Would you mind answering us a couple of questions?” The voice outside the cabin startled Bane. He came out to find two men standing on the small pier, right near his boat…

Clift Garrett
Clift Garrett
Thespian

Mar-7-2009 00:45


**Meanwhile**

Clift has exited the cafe and went to Hyde Park. He decided to Makensie and Violet some time to catch up with their children, whilst he had some time to clear his own head.

He lay down on the lush green grass of the park thinking of the day's event. A near fight with Violet, not even a single hug or a kiss from either of his two daughters. A very confusing conversation with Isabella and a repetitive exchange of the words 'Horrid' and 'No, Nice' between him and Victoria, who spoke to him from behind her mother's clothes.

Clift was exhausted, although he wasn't a very responsible father, he felt the mental exertions of being a father all the same. He hoped that this wouldn't be the last of his many ferocious days as the Romeo of the NY's detective scene, but knowing that he had at least a gray hair or two, it possibly could be.

As his thoughts took him over, he drifted into a light sleep.


**Two Hours Later**

Clift had woken up after half an hour's nap and started walking the streets of London. He was very curious to notice Leopold Parr walking with two gentlemen he had met earlier on the ship from NY: Gregory and Joseph. Leopold was in uniform, even more curious.

It seemed that the three were involved in some official police work. Clift casually walked to them greeting them as he got closer. "Well, well... if it isn't my brother-in-law showing my two new friends around London."

Leopold Parr turned in surprise. "Why, Clift, how are you my good man? It has been a while? You must know that Violet is in town."

Clift rolled his eyes and did not comment.

Leopold left it at that.

He turned to introduce the other two gentlemen but Clift stopped him. "Don'tcha bother yourself Leopold. I met Mr. Zeo yesterday and he introduced to Gregory overhere. I see you are back from the docks area. Official business I take it?"

Joseph Zeo smiled at Clift's eagerness. "I am afraid we cannot comment much on that Clift."



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