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The Daughters of Miss Violet Parr
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Violet Parr
Violet Parr

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.


Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-8-2009 17:18

While waiting for his ‘employer’ to make his entrance, Bane remembered his thoughts from back at the bar, upon their encounter. He realized he had to be prepared for anything, so he reached in his bag, took out a 1911 with a holster and equipped it. Noticing the gun was showing a bit too obvious through his jacket, he started to look around the cabin in search of thicker coat to wear.

Upon turning a few boxes upside down, he finally stumbled upon a small crate with the name ‘Mike’ written on it. Amongst other stuff, he was pleased to find also a trench coat. He took it out and replaced his jacket with it. Just as he was closing the box, he noticed something looking like a gun handle somewhere in the bottom. He cleared his way to it and took it out. It was an old sawn off shotgun, fully loaded. “This might come in handy”…he mumbled, shoving it under the control panel.

He then got up on the deck and lit himself a cigarette.

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-8-2009 17:19

*almost an hour later…*

“Whe’e ‘ave yo’ been, American?” The whispered, yet growling voice startled Bane. He turned his eyes towards it to find the character he met earlier at the bar.

“What you mean ‘where have I been’?” answered Joey annoyed. “I’ve been waiting here for you for more than an hour. You did say under the Cannon Street Bridge at 11 hundred hours, now didn’t you? It’s freaking midnight now, pal!”

“Yeah, yeah…don’ sweat it! Now’ don’ jus’ stand ova’ the’e with you’ hands in you’ pockets. Move you’ a’se on the pie’r an’ help those lads! Tha’ package’s kida heavy.”

Bane turned his eyes towards the small pier where two other men were struggling with a tall crate. “Hmmm…” mumbled him “…that crate’s big enough to fit a body in it”.

“Watcha waitin’ fo’? Move it!”…growled the first man again, pushing him from behind.

Bane gave him an ugly eye and then stepped up and helped the two fellows bring the box onto the deck.

“Let’s shove it down below” proposed him.

“Nah…we’e gonna ditch it soon. Jus’ put it up he’e in the cabin” said the man who apparently seemed to be in charge. Well…in charge of these two chumps at least.

“Where to now?” asked Bane upon finishing with the crate.

“Jus’ go down the rive’. We got another’ one to pick up.”

“Another package?”

“Yo’ got a problem wit’ t’at, American?”

“No problem, Boss” replied Bane mockingly. He started the engine and took off. All 3 men remained on the boat.

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-8-2009 17:20

*15 minutes later…*

“Alrigh’…stop he’re” said the ‘boss’ pointing towards a small pier leading to the back of a house that appeared to be deserted. “Wait he’re. T’is gonna take abou’ ten minutes. Jeff he’re’s gonna stay he’e wit’ yo’.”

Upon docking the ferry, he made a short sign to the one he called ‘Jeff’. The man nodded and then the ‘boss’ and the other chump left, entering the abandoned manor’s back door.

After a couple of minutes, Jeff stepped on the pier, looking around as if expecting for somebody to arrive…strangely, not from the house, but from along the riverside.

Seeing himself alone on the boat, Bane figured this could be a good time to take a look into that box. He grabbed a crowbar and opened the lid slowly, whistling loud in an attempt to cover the noise.

“I’ll be damn!” he mumbled upon throwing a peek inside. Indeed there was a body…and not any dead stiff, but just exactly the man from the newspaper picture, the one who the police thought that was killed on the train. “So these guys must be…”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here, mate!”

Jeff’s voice startled Bane. He attempted to turn around, but the sound of an arming revolver made him stop. With the corner of his eye he took a look at the man’s shadow on the deck under the moon light. Indeed he had a gun pointed at his head. Bane realized he had to make a move now, or he won’t move at all. For good.

“I reckon this is the end of the road for you, mate.” Jeff said preparing to take the shot. “Too bad you couldn’t keep your nose out of our business, American!”

Just as Bane thought this was indeed his end, he heard a noise that never before had sounded so pleasant:


Apparently Pierre had been there all along, quiet…most likely sleeping like a log.

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-8-2009 17:21

Startled by the dog’s growling, the man pointed his eyes towards him, lowering the gun. Noticing his move in the shadow, Bane didn’t think twice. Gathering all his strength, he swiftly forged his elbow straight into the man’s face. His powerful blow made Jeff stagger for a couple of seconds, then fall on his knees, arms just hanging straight along his body. Blood strongly gushed out of his nose and upon another two or three seconds he finally dropped face down on the floor. Bane reached for his neck and took his pulse. He had none. “Damn…” mumbled him “…these English goons are softer than I thought. I didn’t even hit him that hard…”

He then turned his eyes towards the dog. “Nice job, Pierre. Perfect timing! I guess I owe you a full load of bones for this, mate. Now don’t stand here…go below. I don’t want these guys to see you.”

Pierre came forward sniffing Jeff’s body for a second and then headed below the deck, growling slowly somehow in discontent.

Bane quickly grabbed Jeff’s corpse and hid it behind the crate in the cabin. He then stepped out on the deck, just in time to see the ‘boss’ and the other guy coming. The goon was carrying something on his shoulder that looked like…”A child? Could it be…”

Bane’s grumbling was interrupted by the sight of two people, a man and a woman, coming towards the ferry along the river side. A moon ray glancing over their faces presented Bane a middle age man with spectacles and…”The NUN?!?” He almost shouted that out loud, but fortunately he managed to gut it down in the last second.

The group finally made it on the ferry. Bane lifted the collar of his trench coat and drew his hat lower onto his eyes, just in case the woman from the train would remember his face.

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-8-2009 17:23

The chump carrying the child laid it down carefully on the deck. It appeared to be a little girl. Apparently she was still awake, her mouth being covered with a gag and her hands tied up in the front. Bane moved a little on a side to see her face in the pier’s lamp. His eyes widened in astonishment as he finally got a glimpse at her face: “What the freaking hell?!? VICTORIA?!?”

Again he had to gut in his voice in order not to say that out loud.

The man with spectacles reached down to her and lifted her chin. He seemed to be agitated about something. With a short and violent move he removed her gag to see her full face.

“Damn it!” he barked, lifting his eyes towards the ‘boss’ and the other chump. “You fools! You picked the wrong one!”

“Wha’ do yo’ mean, boss!?! We took th’ one from th’ bed yo’ said!”

“It’s the wrong one, you stupid English wanker! We want the sister, not this one!”

The now obviously ‘little boss’ started to scratch the back of his head. “So’…w’at d’ we do’ now’?”

“Go back and grab the one we want!”



At that point the most unexpected thing happened…well…at least for Joey: Victoria turned her eyes towards the old house and spoke. One word came out of her mouth: “Father…”

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-8-2009 17:24

At that, Bane turned his look also onto the old manor noticing…”CLIFT?!?” Unfortunately Joey was not the only one who saw him. The kidnappers also did.

Clift was running towards the ferry, holding a gun in his hand. He was followed closely by another man who seemed to Bane to be the one accompanying the police inspector earlier that day. Some other shadows seemed to be moving behind them, but Joey couldn’t distinguish any more of them clearly. Reaching a good distance for a shot, Clift raised his gun.

“NO!” shouted the man behind him. “You might hit the girl! Too dangerous!”

The kidnappers took out their guns and started shooting. The man behind Clift jumped on his back forcing him to lay down and out of the gunfire. The nun took out a Tommy Gun and fired a few bursts.

“HIT IT, BOY!” shouted the man with spectacles towards Bane.

Joey started the engine and took off. The kidnappers’ continuous gunfire was keeping the followers behind. After a couple of minutes the boat got at top speed and upon reaching a portion of the river where the ferry couldn’t be followed on foot, they finally lost their trail. Bane drove ahead, wondering when they’ll notice Jeff’s disappearance.

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-8-2009 17:26

*about 20 minutes later…*

“Ok, stop here” said the spectacles man to Bane.

“Where? There’s no pier?”

The man pointed to a large gate on the wall of yet another old house, this one reaching right into the river’s stream. “In there.” He smiled somehow devilishly. “Our own private pier. We’ll lose the boat from anyone’s sight that way. We move on land from now on.”

Bane pulled the boat inside. As the gate was closing behind him, he took a look around. They were in a room built on the water especially for the purpose of hosting a small boat like the one they were on. A small pier made of stone was leading up to a door.

‘Spectacles man’ and the ‘nun’…now in a different outfit, of course, made their way up to the door and unlocked it. “Give me a couple of minutes to make sure the house’s clear, than bring her up” said him towards ‘little boss’ and the other goon and then disappeared inside along with his female companion.

The two remained on the boat, checking the ties on Victoria’s hands and getting her ready to be carried. Suddenly ‘little boss’ started looking around.

“Wha’…whe’e th’e hell is Jeff?” He turned towards Joey.

“Don’t know” replied Bane. “Maybe he got left at the manor…things got a little crazy back there.”

At this point Bane received clear proof that his bad luck wasn’t gone: with a screechy sound, Jeff’s corpse started to slither from the back of the large crate and ended up with a sturdy bump right at his feet.

“Yo’ lousy bastard!” ‘little boss’ said reaching for his gun. The other chump also took out his pistol.

For the second time that night Bane knew he had to take decisive action, or else…

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-8-2009 17:27

[Author’s note:

Please don’t jump on the rescue right away. I have to handle this small part alone in order to get to the point I’m aiming for. My next post will clear everything out.]

Joseph Zeo
Joseph Zeo
Tale Spinner

Mar-9-2009 11:35

*Central London - about 21:30hr*

Zeo finally found the Comedy Store, with Leopold and Clift in the dinner theatre. They were both having a good time listening to British jokes which Zeo didn't find amusing as all. He considered Garrett a truly an international detective for understanding foreign humour.

Joseph told Leopold about coming across Bergen and the lady he now knew as Stinger. Clift offered to help. They all got on Leopold's car and headed for the small hotel in the Fulham district.

When they arrived, Gregory wasn't there anymore. "Strange," Zeo remarked, "Gregory never leaves his post. No matter what happens, he always waited for me." They searched the hotel and found nothing. They decided to check the alleys.

They went around to the back, checked to make sure their weapons were ready for any surprises. There were quite a bit of junk and searching through them took over an hour. Just as the two Americans were about to give up, Leopold shouted for them. Clift and Joseph ran towards where Leopold was, and saw him picking apart some old plywood. Buried beneath it, was a body. Blood was oozing out and formed a little creek.

"No, no, no, no...." Joseph shoved the boards away, disregarding the splinters piercing his fingers. He finally saw Gregory's vacant eyes, staring emptily into the dark night sky above. His throat was slit open from ear to ear. Joseph held onto Gregory's body, speechless.

Joseph Zeo
Joseph Zeo
Tale Spinner

Mar-9-2009 11:36

Leopold went into the hotel to call for back up. When he returned to the back alley, he saw Joseph sitting idly beside his dead partner’s body, while Clift was examining the ground with a flashlight.

“Detective Garrett, your resourcefulness never cease to surprise me.” Leopold remarked, “Did you always carry your tool box around with you?”

“Look!” Clift said, pointing his small flashlight on some blood writing on the ground, “Looks like Gregory wrote down a clue before he took his last breath… I think it reads ‘Cannon’...”

Backup finally arrived. Leopold had to stay around for further investigation of the murder of Gregory Morgan. Zeo picked himself up and began to walk away briskly. “Where’re you going?” Clift asked, chasing after Zeo.

“It’s already past eleven pm. What ever job Bergen was doing, it would be over soon, if not already.” Zeo analyzed coldly. “I’m not letting him get away with it.”

Leopold offered his vehicle to Clift. “You know how to drive on the LEFT side of the street, right?” Clift nodded and took the keys.

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