CHAPTER 180: Situation Vacant

"Phew...I am exhausted, George, I can tell you and I'll tell you another thing...the amount of litter on our streets is appalling, simply appalling.  After breakfast I'm going to write one of my stern letters to City Hall about it....what are you cooking there, George?  Another one of your healthy recipes?" said Edna who was exhausted, exasperated and inquisitive in that order.

"All natural and good for us, I assure you, Dear" replied George.

"Yes, I must admit I have noticed that you've lost a bit of weight lately.  Hmmm, I like the leaner, trimmer version of you, George:  Your body is almost the same as when we met"

"I'm just trying to stay healthy, like you.  You've taken up exercise and running; I am using my culinary skills to cook nutritious meals that don't add to our waistlines." replied George.  Yes, he wanted to be healthy but he had an ulterior motive as well:  He wanted to drop a dress size or two.

"Healthy or not, it's certainly delicious" said Edna, enthusiastically chomping on her corn and red pepper frittatas.  "George, you do spoil me...but time is pressing on and I have meetings to get to.  I'm off to have a shower and get dressed; sorry I can't help you tidy up the dishes this time."

"No worries, dear" said George, picking up the empty plates and taking them through to the kitchen.  Once he heard the shower being turned on, he scampered downstairs into the bunker and checked on his secret suitcase filled with his feminine attire.  Today was going to be a very special day for his alter-ego: Beulah Boutee.

He took the suitcase from its hiding place, opened it up and inspected his garments.  He checked out the dress he wanted to wear, made sure it had no holes, loose threads or dirt on it.  He also made sure his high heels had no scuff marks on them, his stockings had no runs in them and his wig was in top condition as well.  Satisfied, he shut the case and went back upstairs just in time to be back in the kitchen before Edna emerged from the bedroom, fully dressed.  Everything had to be just right because this was going to be his biggest ever adventure dressed as a woman...today he was going for a job interview with the Landgraabs to become their new maid.  

"I hope you have a nice day, George" said Edna as she came out from the bedroom and into the living room, putting on her suit jacket as she walked.  "I shall be back in the middle of the afternoon.  Will you have gone to work by then?"

"Possibly, darling.  I hope to see you just briefly before I have to go." he replied.

"Take care and don't exhaust yourself before your shift like you did last time" she said, heading out the door.

George peeked through the drapes and watched Edna head off down the street.  Once she was out of sight, he dashed downstairs, grabbed his special suitcase and ran back upstairs to the bedroom and the dressing table.  He placed the case on the bed, opened it up, grabbed his make up and went to work transforming himself into Beulah.

He had to be over at Acquisition Butte, where the Landgraabs lived, by 11am and it took him just under an hour to drag up.  As he would be travelling as Beulah in public, he had to be extremely careful in looking as feminine as he could possibly manage.  So far, on his brief public excursions out and about, no one had detected he was a man under the wig, make up and dresses but this trip would be the longest amount of time he would be spending as a woman.

Once transformed, he had to practice his feminine voice...modified to sound like she was from Georgia.

"Ah dew declay-ah!  Ahhhhh dew de-clay-ahhhh suh!  Another mint julep, Geoffreh...ah mean, Mistah Laynd-graaaab!  Oh fiddlely dee!"  Once satisfied, he stood up, hitched his fake tits into position and made sure there was no "bulge" showing in his pelvic region.  After a gentle, more feminine sounding clearing of the throat, George was no more...she was Beulah!  

Beulah sauntered to the nearby bus stop to catch a ride to Acquisition Butte.  When the bus stopped, she gingerly walked up the steps, paid the bus driver and gave a delicate "thank you, kind suh" and little curtsey to the driver.  The driver wasn't accustomed to such delicate, Southern manners on his route and looked quizzically at this fairly tall lady who was wearing a lot of make up and had genteel manners.

The journey passed without much incident and Beulah was able to make it to the Landgraab home, Affluista Mansion, in time for her appointment.  She couldn't believe how large and impressive the house looked; it's sleek, light grey and white exterior décor looked almost space age and futuristic.

As Beulah sashayed to the front door she was met by a frantic looking Geoffrey Landgraab, wearing a business suit and carrying a briefcase, who was rushing out of the house.

"Ah, Beulah, looking radiant as ever!" he said, pausing to speak to her.  "I wish I could give you a...personal...tour today..." he continued, looking her up and down approvingly "...but I have an urgent business meeting to attend."

"Aw my!  I don't want to keep y'all from your important business, Mistuh Landgraab..." said Beulah.

"Oh Beulah, how many times do I have to tell you...you can call me...Geoffrey" he said, practically purring his name as he spoke.  "It is with deep regret that I must depart now; Knowles is here with the limo and I cannot keep the board of directors waiting any longer.  My wife, Nancy, is upstairs in the home gymnasium.  I've told her all about you."

"Nothin' bad ah hope!" Said Beulah, playfully touching his arm.

"The opposite!  Until we meet again...Beulah!" he replied, with a wave before getting into the limo.  Beulah gave a little, coquettish, wave back and then turned to enter the house.

She was amazed at how immaculate it was inside; to her right was a sleek, shiny kitchen, to her left a large plush loungeroom which had an enormous television set along one wall and big, French windows with sliding glass doors that opened out to the back.  Beulah went upstairs to try and find Mrs Nancy Landgraab but at the same time she was awed by the mansion...not what she had expected at all.

"Hello?  Mrs Landgraab?  Are you there?" called out Beulah.

"Is that Miss Booty?" came a reply from a woman's voice.

"It's Boutee, Ma'am...Beulah Boutee" said Beulah, following the source of the voice until she entered a large room which had some exercise apparatus in it.  Seated at one piece was Nancy; dressed in a white tracksuit and wearing large sunglasses which hid her eyes.

Nancy looked Beulah up and down but with the sunglasses on it was difficult for the latter to determine whether the former was looking at her with approval or disapproval.

"Hmm, you're not quite as Geoffrey had described you.  From Louisiana are you?" said Nancy.

"No, ma'am, from the great state of Georgia...although mah gran'pappy was from New Orleans" replied Beulah, improvising a backstory off the cuff.

"Well thank you for coming, Miss Boutee.  As you can see we have a large mansion and we're in need of a maid; a reliable, honest one as well.  Too many of the maids we've hired in the past have had problems keeping their hands off our precious objects d'art." said Nancy, waving her hand to indicate the splendour of the house.

"Now that's just downright, wrong, Mrs Landgraab!  What is the world coming to today?  Ahm sorry to hear of your misfortunes but I can assure you that ahm the model of honesteh and decenseh." said Beulah.

"Do you have a reference with you?" asked Nancy, haughtily.

"Ah certainly do!  Here it is, from Mistuh George Sneedleh...I unnerstand you know the gentleman?" said Beulah, handing out a reference George had typed up, praising Beulah's hard work and dedication.

"Yes, I know him and his wife.  Upstanding couple." said Nancy.  Beulah beamed at the small praise Nancy had just bestowed on his male alter-ego and Edna.

"I'll give you a tour of the house" continued Nancy, getting up from her weightlifting machine.  "As you can see it is the latest in Scandinavian modernism:  We had it specially constructed after seeing a concept house at the World's Fair in 1964...we fell in love with the design and flew the architect out from Stockholm especially to build a bigger version right here.  Have you heard of him, his name is Ben Benn?"

"Can't say I do, ma'am." replied Beulah, trying to take in everything around her.  "They're so clever, the Swedes, aren't they?"

"Yes...almost everything in his house is of Swedish design or manufacture from the kitchen appliances, the electronics and the wooden furniture.  As you said, they're a clever people who have built state of the art electronics to...well...sex change operations" Nancy said, smiling at the last point.  Sweden was getting a reputation for pioneering the latter.

"Ah wouldn't know anything about that" said Beulah.  There were some things George drew the line at and having surgery on his 'manhood' was one of them.  

"No, I can see a genteel lady of manners such as yourself wouldn't involve themselves in some of the more lurid stories from around the world.  I am what you would call...worldly." said Nancy.

They returned to the gym and Nancy resumed her exercises.  "So, do you think you could manage cleaning and maintaining this house to a high standard?" she said.

"I reckon so, ma'am.  Ah say 3 hours, twice a week should do it" 

Nancy smiled.  "That was what I was thinking as well.  I like your candidness, Beulah.  The job is yours."

"Oh thank you, ma'am, much appreciated" replied Beulah.

"Just a couple of details." continued Nancy  "Mondays and Thursdays will be your working days.  Whilst on the premises you will wear an appropriate uniform, which we will provide."

"That's not a problem for me" said Beulah.  I'm going to wear a maid's uniform! She thought, excited at the idea.

There were footsteps coming from down the hall.  "Mom, is is OK for me to invite Michelle over this evening for dinner?"

"That is acceptable, Malcolm.  Oh, come on in, I'd like you to meet our new maid, Beulah.  Beulah, this is my son, Malcolm"

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, young suh" said Beulah, curtseying. 

Malcom didn't respond immediately but instead slowly walked over to her.  "Well, you have manners" he said, looking her up and down.  "Your name's Boiler, is it?"

"Beulah" she gently corrected.

"Oh yes.  So you're the new maid, are you?  Well I have a few personal rules for all our staff:  When it comes to my room, you will confine yourself to vacuuming, dusting and polishing.  You will NOT touch any of my stuff, not even to move them even the slightest.  Is that clear?"

"Oh certainly, Master Landgraab.  Ah know how precious your things must be.  Ah will only vacuum, dust and polish, you have my word as a Southern Ge...ah, mean, ah Southern Belle."

"One more thing, Beulah..." said Malcolm, ushering her away from his mother's earshot.  "...if you do happen to see a sign on my door that says STRICTLY NO ADMITTANCE, then under no circumstance are you to enter my room.  Do I make myself clear?" he said, with a hint of malevolence in his voice.

"*gulp*...Ah understand, Master Malcom" replied Beulah, nervously.

"Well, I think this is going to be a positive working relationship" interjected Nancy.  "We will see you this Thursday, at 10am, oh and if you could write down your measurements we'll have a uniform waiting for you on your first day."

Malcolm handed Beulah a pad of letter writing paper and a pen and she wrote down her dress size and clothing measurements on the top sheet before handing them to Nancy.

"My...that should be possible to procure.  You don't see many women of your vital statistics often.  Fair enough, Thursday at 10am it is.  Goodbye Miss Boutee."

Beulah curtseyed again to both of them and made her way out.  She had secured the job and convinced two others that she was a woman.  That gave her a thrill as she walked to the bus stop.  She still had time to get home, change back into George and get ready for his regular job.

Back at Sneedley Burrow, Beulah became George once again.  He was getting so adept at changing between male and female in appearance that he could remove the clothing, make up and wig in nearly half the time that it used to take.  He had a late lunch, confident that no trace of make up was remaining on him.

This time he and Edna didn't see each other before he had to go to his work and she came home from hers.  She had become distracted with talking to a young man about politics and tried to impress him with her cause for decency in public life.  A lot of the time she found she couldn't get through to young people as they were far too interested in pop culture, liberal politics and the dreaded....free love.  However, this young man...a certain James Sprague...was interested.

"I agree that order and control are vital to a successful civilisation, Edna Sneedley.  I am interested in your League and shall tell the others in my pod..." 

"Pod, Mr Sprague?" interjected Edna, confused by the word.

"I mean, 'social circle', Edna Sneedley.  Thank you for the pamphlet and information" he said, taking a League of Decency and walking off.

"We need more young people like him" said Edna to herself, pleased with her efforts.

She went home and poured herself a whisky and soda.  Today had been a good day:  She got to speak at an old age people's home about the League and then managed to meet and impress a bunch of people on the street but the campaigning didn't end there.  Tonight was the Humour and Hijinks Festival and she wanted to see if it was good, clean fun (unlikely) or a hotbed of blue ribaldry...which she could try and get shut down.

She changed from her grey business suit and into a smart, but functional, frock.  She poured another whisky for herself just before she set off in order to get in the right mood for a "hijinks" festival.  Taking the subway, she headed straight for the Arts Quarter (one of her least favourite spots in Sim City) and the festival.

What greeted her on arriving at the event was just a few people in casual attire gathered around two, elaborate drinking fountains.  One was marked "JOKESTERS" and the other "PRANKSTERS".  The festival goers would go to either, take a coloured paper cup (Jokesters was red, Pranksters was green), fill it up with what looked like punch, drink it in one go and then place the empty cup on their heads, yelling "TEAM JOKESTER!" or "TEAM PRANKSTER!" out loud.

One person she noticed standing by one of the fountains was Geoffrey Landgraab.  The two of them were on cordial terms, but hardly what you would be called friends.  Both of them had a need for the other:  For Edna, Geoffrey provided status by knowing him and influence in high places.  For him, Edna and her husband were useful foils in putting pressure on people he didn't like.  He could use their League of Decency to disrupt news articles unfavourable to the Landgraab Corporation or get a public event shut down.  Geoffrey noticed Edna prowling around the festival and wondered if she had her sights set on the Humour and Hijinks Festival.

"Edna, what a surprise.  I didn't expect to see you here" 

"Nor you, Geoffrey.  Are you familiar with this festival?"

"Actually I'm a patron...and a regular here.  I'm a member of the Dishonourable Company of Pranksters.  It's a silly thing, really.  I got involved on campus back in the day.  We raise money for charity by playing practical jokes and having joke wars with our so-called enemies; the Jokesters.  It's all for a good cause."

"I see..." said Edna, but in truth she didn't see the point of all the low-brow humour in the name of a good cause.

"By the way, Edna, my wife met your delightful cleaning lady today and likes her too.  She's got the job working at our place twice a week.  Do tell George thank you for finding her."

Edna paused...she'd never met their cleaning lady and it came as a shock to find out, recently, that they had hired one...or more accurately, George had hired one.

"I will, I must confess, Geoffrey...I've never met the woman in person.  Am I right that her name is Boombah?"

"Beulah.  Beulah Boutee.  Sounds exotic, doesn't it?  However she's from Georgia."

"I'm glad George could help out...you know, he's so busy these days with his work:  The hotel is attracting a more high class kind of clientele and their tastes are more...rarefied, but of course you and Nancy would know."

"Indeed.  So are you staying for the fun, Edna?  Can I get you to join the Pranksters for this evening?" Geoffrey replied.

"I would prefer to observe from a distance but thank you for the kind offer, Geoffrey.  Pranking isn't really my sort of thing, you know?" Edna said diplomatically.

"Hello Edna, come to join in the fun?" came a voice from behind her.  Edna turned around to see Julia Epstein standing right behind her.

"Julia, my dear, what a surprise to see you here?" said Edna, genuinely surprised to see her most promising acolyte out and about at a comedy festival.

"Oh not really...it's one way I let my hair down.  I mean, I play the piano as well but...well, I like a little silliness from time to time:  In an ordered and structured way, of course.  I can't bear spontaneous joking around." said Julia, with a shudder at the thought of someone playing an impromptu joke on her.

"Quite right too" remarked Edna.

"Can I get you two ladies a drink?" asked Geoffrey.

"Why yes, Geoffrey, thank you...a double scotch on the rocks if you please.  It should help the festivities go smoothly with a drink...or two"

A man in a bright gold, lamé jacket and sporting a big, cheesy smile stood in front of a microphone, tapped it a couple of times, sent a piercing wail of feedback into the speakers dotted around the festival.  "Ladies and Gentlemen" he began "the Humour and Hijinks is proud to present the highlight of the evening!  It's Big Pun Time!" 

"Maybe even three or more drinks" said Edna, shuddering at the prospect of a Pun Fight.  But the booze was flowing...and cheap.

CHAPTER 179: Picking Up The Trail

"Right, well if you don't want any of this awful fruit cake, Suzy, I'm going to throw it straight into the bin!" said Neil, his stomach still churning and gurgling after mistakenly taking a slice and eating it.

"Go ahead!  It had too many nuts in it for my liking" came Suzy's voice from the bathroom.

Neil smiled and, with great pleasure, consigned the welcoming fruit cake to the trash can.  "And don't come back!" he snarled as the congealed stodge hit the bottom of the trash can.  Then his stomach gurgled again.

Suzy emerged from the bathroom fully dressed and made up.  She made herself some bacon, eggs and coffee after Neil had confessed he couldn't eat anything at the moment.

"My stomach might not recover until tomorrow" he said.

"Anyway, what are we up to today?  Do you have any work to do?" asked Neil.

"No deadlines...but I'd like to follow up on a few leads regarding our ongoing investigation" said Suzy.

"Ah, I was wondering when we were going to get back to some proper sleuthing" said Neil.

"Like that painting you discovered...the mysterious one by an unknown artist" Suzy reminded Neil.

"I've got an idea about where to go next with that.  There's an archive section down at the Casbah Gallery in town plus a lot of knowledgeable people to ask.  I suggest we begin there on our search."

"OK, sounds like a good plan" said Suzy.  Neil excused himself to go get washed and dressed.  He eventually emerged in his green casual suit; as befitting a bohemian artist.

"I'm not a great expert in art, Neil, how do you think we should go about our enquiries on this one?" Suzy asked.

"I've asked Futures Past about what they know about the painting, which isn't much, but they acquired it from the Casbah Gallery.  We need to know how the Casbah got hold of it, why they moved it on to Futures Past, who painted it and any other information about technique, framing and even the pigments and paints used because I noticed that was unusual about the piece as well.  From there we can track down the artist and, hopefully, get to meet them."

"And do I have questions for them!" said Suzy, enthusiastically.

"I'm sure you do...OK, let's get to town." said Neil, grabbing the keys to his Volvo P1800.

As it was a Sunday the traffic on the roads was light and within 20 minutes they'd arrived at the Arts Quarter in the heart of the city.  Neil parked up in the large, underground car park beneath the Casbah Gallery and they headed up to begin their investigations.

Neil looked up at the vast building.  "Come weez me to ze Casbahhh" he said in a mock French accent.

"Did you know that Charles Boyer never actually said that line in the movie?" responded Suzy.

"Way to ruin the mood, Suzy.  Next you'll be telling me that Humphrey Bogart never said 'play it again, Sam'" said Neil, with a sigh.

"Well, actually..." began Suzy.

"No time to talk movie trivia:  Let's get inside" said Neil, cutting her off and not wanting to be corrected again.

They wandered around the lower level of the gallery, searching for a curator or the research library in the building.  As they wandered along, they also took the time to view some of the more impressive artworks on display.

"Do you remember we had our first date here?" she said.

"I remember it well:  You played guitar for me.  It was then and there that I fell in love with you" said Neil.

"Really?  You fell in love with me back then?" said Suzy, somewhat surprised.  She had always felt that Neil had been a 'slow burner' and it took time for him to warm to her.

"Oh yes.  I was too mixed up and terrified to say it at the time."

"Terrified of little old me?"

"No...terrified of myself.  When I first met you I was surprised, then awkward, then scared, then enthralled and finally I couldn't get you out of my head.  I mean, I've never found it easy to talk with single, young women and there you were...talking with me..."

"I remember you were terrified of being at the Romance Festival" she said, smiling.

"I really was...but it was here; among the paintings and the music, that I just fell head over heels for you."

"But you didn't say that at the time"

"Oh good gracious no!  I was completely tongue tied back then...but look at us now."

"A proper married couple.  We've now got the nice suburban home with the picket fence...soon we'll be getting a dog and then..."

"But before any of that...we're here to investigate, remember?" said Neil, cutting her off before she said 'baby'.

Neil had asked at the front desk whether they could see the curator or, at least, browse the gallery's archives but they were met with a firm rejection.

"I'm sorry, but the curators do not meet with visitors without an appointment" said the supercilious man at the official enquires desk.

"Then can we make an appointment to see one of them?" asked Neil.

"It is very important for our research" added Suzy.

"They will only grant interviews with those from accredited galleries and collections, not the general public."

"But we're not just the general public" said Suzy.  "My husband here is a professional artist and I am a journalist for a magazine."

"Which publication would that be?" asked the official, looking down his nose at her.

"Erm...'Hey, Wow'?" she replied, knowing that a pop culture magazine for teenagers wasn't exactly high brow.

"Hey...Wow.  Sounds most edifying." said the official with a sneer.  "I'm afraid the answer is no"

"Not even if we make an appointment?" said Suzy, with a look of pleading innocence on her face.

"Not even then.  This is a prestige gallery and we have a reputation to maintain."

"...like Fort Knox.  Oh well..." she sighed.

"Come along, Suz, we'll think of another line of enquiry." said Neil, taking her by the arm and leading her gently away to the gallery café.

They sat at the long bar to ponder their situation, which at the moment was a lot of miles travelled for no result and no other leads.

"The pompous, stuck up pencil neck at the desk!" complained Suzy.  "I tell you what his problem is...it's that making appointments for us would be too much hard work for him!"

"These gallery administrators are very possessive about their collections, Suzy.  I've encountered this kind of thing before." said Neil.  "Anyway, let's get something to drink...coffee?"

"Yeah, coffee would be fine.  Oh, Neil, what are we going to do next?  That painting might be the clue that unlocks the mystery!"

"Excuse me" said the man behind the serving counter.  "I couldn't help but overhear what you were saying to the manager back there"

"Is he normally like that?" asked Neil.

"Oh you got off lucky.  I've seen him call security on people who complained about some of the paintings in here.  Just for complaining!  Anyway, my names Ira and I know a thing or two about what goes on in this place.  What was it you were looking for?"

Suzy and Neil looked at each other in surprise at what might be a lucky break.  They nodded and turned back to Ira.

"We're doing some research on a painting.  One that used to be here but was recently moved to the Future's Past museum in Willow Creek." said Neil.

"Oh THAT painting" said Ira, knowingly.  "They couldn't shift it out of here quick enough!"

"Why's that?" asked Suzy.

"Unknown artist, painting shows up out of nowhere and there were complaints about it as well"

"Complaints?  Who from?" asked Neil.

"Now that I don't know about, but a few of the wealthier patrons and donors to this place kicked up a fuss about the painting.  So it had to go."

"You said the painting showed up out of nowhere" asked Suzy.  "Surely there's some record about how it was obtained?"

"I don't know about records, but I know the guy who procured it for the gallery.  He lost his job over it."

"How do we get in touch with this person?  We'd like to meet with him" said Neil.

"Here, I'll write down his name and phone number:  It's Virhaan Trevedhi, Oasis Springs 5705." said Ira, jotting down the details on a pad of paper, tearing off the sheet and then handing them it.

"You sir, have just saved our day!" said a gleeful Neil.

After finishing up their drinks Suzy went to a payphone and called the number that was given to them.  

"Hello?" came a man's voice from the other end.

"Hello...my name is Suzy Humphries and I'm doing some investigations on a painting that you acquired for the Casbah Gallery."

There was a brief pause at the other end before the man said "which one?"

"Landscape by an unknown artist.  The one that landed you in trouble" 

Again, there was a pause before a reply.  "Who are you investigating for?" said the man.

"For myself.  I've been following a story for months and the painting is part of a bigger story" she said, hoping that the man...Trevedhi...would agree to a meeting.

"I should say it is!  OK, we can meet...do you know the Rattlesnake Juice Bar in Oasis Springs?" he said.

"Yes I do.  We're coming from the Casbah in San Myshuno so we can be there..." she said, checking her watch.  "At 1pm.  Is that alright with you?"

"Sure.  How will I recognise you?"

"I'm blonde and wearing a black and white dress.  My husband's wearing a green suit.  We will see you there."

"OK...1pm" he said, before putting the phone down.  The meeting was on!

Once they had taken the long drive across the bay from San Myshuno to the drier Oasis Springs the sense of tension and anticipation in Suzy and Neil had reached its peak.  The case of the unknown painting was throwing up more mysteries and also more questions for them.  They pondered these points as they sat outside at the Rattlesnake bar whilst waiting for Mr Tevedhi.

"Who do you think were those rich donors who objected to the painting?" asked Neil.

"Who do you think?  The Landgraabs and the Fengs most like.  They don't want their little secret of a mysterious grotto, filled with strange flora and fauna, getting out."

"Makes sense...but who painted the picture?" said Neil.  "Someone else who stumbled upon the grotto as we did?"

"Hopefully we'll find out the answer to that very soon..." said Suzy.

They didn't have long to wait until they were approached by a young man in Bohemian garb.  He looked like a young artist straight out of central casting...in fact he looked more like an artist than Neil.

"Are you Suzy Humphries?" the man asked.

"I am and this is my husband, Neil" she replied.

"Good, glad to know you.  I'm Virhaan Trevedhi.  How did you find out about me?"

"From Ira at the Casbah Gallery" said Suzy.

"Ah, good old Ira" said Virhaan, smiling.

"Won't you please sit down with us?" said Neil.  "I'll order some drinks.  Waitress!  We'd like some drinks over here!" said Neil, calling out to a member of the bar staff.

"What can you tell us about the painting?" asked Suzy.

"It was painted by a buddy of mine; Advik Archaya a couple of years ago."

"I don't know that name in the art world" said Neil.

"You wouldn't.  He was strictly an amateur painter but he obsessed over that one piece so much...put so much effort in." said Virhaan.

"You said 'was'...what's happened to him?" asked Suzy.

"He went missing earlier on this year.  No one's found any trace of him since he left town." said Virhaan.

"So what's the backstory of him becoming obsessed with that one painting and is it linked to his disappearance?" asked Neil.

"Like I said, he's a buddy of mine.  We went to art college together but whereas I ended up working in the business, mainly as a gallery curator and purchaser he left the art world behind and went into business.  We stayed in touch though.  As for the painting, it's official title is 'The Other World' and like I said, he became obsessed with painting it.  Dusted off his old paintbrushes, mixed his own paints and went at it day and night.  It cost him his job."

"What made him become so obsessed with painting that one piece?" asked Suzy.

"He confided to me that he had 'seen things', strange things, and that he had to capture what he'd seen on canvas." said Virahaan with a shrug.

"Did he say where he'd seen these things?" asked Suzy.

"Yeah, somewhere down in Willow Creek.  He tried explaining to me that there's this secret bit down there but it didn't make much sense to me."

"Why did he disappear?" asked Neil.

"Well, he was getting so obsessed with finishing the painting that he lost his job.  I offered to help him out by trying to find a buyer for the painting...which was pretty good by the way.  I think it's a fine work."

"I agree" said Neil.  "He had talent"

"Yeah...but as I was trying to find a buyer he got involved with some girl.  It was a short romance, but intense.  Anyway they went off one weekend to Granite Falls for a dirty weekend away and...well...they never returned.  No trace of them was ever found.  All his luggage and stuff he took with him on that trip was found in his cabin, but no trace of him."

"What about her stuff?" asked Suzy.

"Gone.  Cops reckon she might have survived and gone back for her stuff...which if that's true might mean she'd murdered him.  Anyway, the cops and local rangers couldn't find any trace of his body out there."

Suzy looked at Neil, who in turn looked back at her.  The pieces were starting to fall in place.

"Do you know the name of this woman?" asked Suzy.

"Yeah, it was Leanne.  I didn't get her last name."

Suzy looked skywards and Neil took a deep breath.

"What is it?" asked a confused Virhaan.  "Do you know her?"

"You could say that..." answered Suzy.

They fleshed out some other details with Virhaan; about how it was the Landgraabs and Fengs who objected to the painting being hung at the Casbah Gallery, how Virhaan lost his job there because of it and how it was fobbed off onto the smaller, less prestigious Future's Past museum.  After their drinks he said his goodbyes and Suzy and Neil went inside the bar to discuss things.

"Well it's clear our old friend Leanne McGregor is involved here.  This Archaya stumbled upon the grotto, became obsessed with it, painted the picture which in turn alerted the Landgraabs and Fengs...who don't want the secret of the grotto to get out...and my guess is that Landgraab sent McGregor to lure Archaya into a trap...take him up to Granite Falls, bump him off and make it look like an accident." said Suzy.

"I...I think...you may be...right...phew, is it getting hot in here?" said Neil, gasping and fingering the collar of his turtleneck sweater.

"Neil...you don't look well.  There are blotches on your face" said Suzy, concerned.

"Urgh...you're right; I've come over all sick.  Let's...get...going..." he muttered.

"I'll drive us back but along the way I want to stop off at Willow Creek Archive" she said.  "I'll continue my search for more information about this Advik Archaya character."

"Ooh, I'm starting to get hot and cold..." said Neil, groggily.

Suzy grabbed Neil's car keys from him and ushered him out to the Volvo parked around the back.  She drove all the way back with him slumped in the front passenger seat wondering what it was that he had come down with that didn't affect her?  Once back in Willow Creek she helped him inside, put him in bed and then headed back into Magnolia Promenade to search through the public records in the local library.

She headed for the newspaper archive to look up the details on the couple who went missing at Granite Falls back in the Spring.  As it was a fairly recent story, it wasn't difficult to find.  Advik Archaya, age 32, of Courtyard Lane, Willow Creek and Leanne McGregor, approximately 26-27 years old, residence unknown reported missing on 12-03-66.  An extensive search revealed only a pair of shoes belonging to Mr Archaya and so on, just as Virhaan Trevedhi had said.

"So why didn't the police connect the disappearance of a Leanne McGregor with the woman under suspicion of trying to kill Alan?" thought Suzy.

Then the penny dropped..."Advik Archaya, of Courtyard Lane...wait, that's where we live!" she exclaimed out loud.

"SHHHH!" came the voice of the librarian.

"Sorry.  Wait a minute; I remember Eliza mentioning the previous owner going missing.  Oh my gosh!  We're living in his house!"  She thought to herself.

"I must tell Neil!  I must call Action!  I must talk with Eliza!  I need to get back to Granite Falls!"

Suzy darted out of the library and ran back to the Volvo as quickly as she could.  The case was now blown wide open.

CHAPTER 178: A Stroll In The Park

Joanna Thompson, of all people, moving into Foundry Cove, of all places.  What's going on?  Thought Action.  

"Don't make no sense" he muttered to himself.  Joanna was once a scrappy teenager with a short fuse who hit the streets and now she was here in suburbia.  Don't make no sense...

He had to find answers.  This little street was not just where his home was; it was a community.  For a lone wolf like Action he appreciated his neighbours and had their backs.  Besides, there was a little matter of the Landgraab's desire to own this street, the tree and the mysterious glade it led to...

And now Joanna was part of this community.  Why?  The best way to get answers was from her so after his breakfast and morning run he holstered his .38 service revolver, put on his jacket and headed across the road to Streamlet Single to speak with her.

KNOCK!  KNOCK!  KNOCK!

"Yeah, who is it?" came the voice from inside.

"Action"  he replied.

"It's open, come on in" 

He walked into the house.  It was still a lot of bare walls, packing crates here and there but Joanna had, at least, installed a sofa, TV, a dining table and chairs.  She was sitting on the couch, still in her night wear.

"Is it a bit too early for you?" said Action  "Maybe I can come back later when you're dressed?"

"You've seen me in a lot less than this" she replied.

"True"

"Come on in...It's always nice to see an old friend."  she said.

"Do I count as one?  I've cautioned you over your....activities...in the past." he said, sitting next to her on the sofa.

"You're doing your job, and I was doing mine" she said with a shrug.

"But are you serious about not doing that job anymore?" he asked her in all seriousness.

"I've never been more serious about anything in my life.  You gotta believe me, Action" she replied, sternly.

"Why the change of heart and where did you get the money for this place?"  

"Typical cop...always suspicious.  If you must know...read this." she reached for her great-uncle's letter that was lying on the coffee table and handed it to Action.

He took a few minutes to read it in detail, even holding it up to the light at one point to see if there was anything suspicious about the paper it was written on.  Then he let out a sigh and handed it over to Joanna.

"Too bad Mikey's not around to share your good fortune.  I take it back what I said about you; you're really on the level." he said.

"Thanks for the belated vote of confidence" she said, acidly.

"So what are you gonna do now...now that you've moved in here?"

"I reckon I'm gonna go to college and get a better education" she said, with a hint of pride in her voice.  Action nodded.

"Smart move."

"Yeah...you joined the army..."

"Marines"

"Whatever.  That was your way of getting out of the ghetto; this is my way" she said with a hint of pride in her voice.

"Hey, I'm all for what you're doing!" said Action, sincerely.

Joanna paused for a moment and then said.  "Say, do you mean what you said about wanting to help me?"

"Sure"

"How about helping me shift those boxes?"  

Action smiled.  "You got it", he said.

He lugged the empty packing crates outside to where the trash can was and on his way back he paused to have a look at all the textbooks Joanna had lying around on her desk.

"You thought of where you'd like to study?" he asked her.

"I'm thinking of Foxbury...more technical and work related courses there.  I don't want to waste time studying poetry or archaeology or fluff like that." she replied.

Action just nodded.  Joanna, however, had a question for him.  "Say, Action, are you any good with a hammer and nails?"

"I've been known to dabble" he replied, nonchalantly.

"I've got a bookcase to put up on the wall, over there" she said with a mischievous grin.

Action knew when he'd been outmanoeuvred so he stood up, shrugged his shoulders and asked where the toolbox was.  After an hour there was a nice, neat little bookshelf on the wall.  Joanna was very grateful and made him a coffee.

"I'd better gulp this down because I have to scoot" he said, picking up the coffee mug.

"Work?"

"Pleasure"

"Ooh, is it a woman?" Joanna asked, coquettishly.

"It is.  My woman." Action replied.

"What's she like this woman who has even the great John Action at her beck and call?" 

"She's classy" came his calm reply.

"Out of your league then?"

"I've gone up a division" 

"Upwards and upwards, eh?"

"Something like that.  And you can do it to.  You've made a start already.  If you want anything else mounted on a wall you just let me know" he said, handing her the empty coffee mug.

"I must dust off that head of a tiger then" she replied.  "Have fun with your lady friend"

PUPPERSTONE PARK:  1pm

That is precisely what Action intended to do:  An afternoon and evening spent with his girlfriend, Katherine.  He made his way over, Southwards, to the coastal suburb of Brindleton Bay; an area he had only a brief experience of visiting.  Meeting there was her idea and he liked the thought of being with her in a part of town he wouldn't be recognised easily in.

Normally she liked to be fashionably late for a meeting but today Action was surprised that she had arrived at the rendezvous ahead of him.  That was Katherine in a nutshell:  Always full of surprises.

"Am I late?" he said on greeting her.

"No, I'm early for a change.  How's your morning?"

"Busier than I expected.  We have a new neighbour who's just moved in an I had to help them put up a bookcase and shift some empty packing crates."

"So what's she like, this new neighbour?" asked Katherine.

"I never said it was a 'her'" he replied, somewhat defensively.

"I guessed from the fact that you put up a bookshelf for them:  Normally a man wouldn't ask for that help."

"Hey, I'm meant to be the detective here!" he said, surprised at her sleuthing skills.

"You must be rubbing off on me" she said with an easy smile.

"Evidently.  Anyway it turns out I knew her already from my old stomping ground but she's not my type."

"Redhead?"

"Compromised" replied Action.  

Action changed the subject.  "So, why did you pick here to meet up?" he asked.

"This is my stomping ground.  I was born and raised near here and I still live around these parts.  I wanted to show you my home town." she said.

"I can see why you like the sea and the river...you've grown up around it all your life" he nodded.

"I love the sea.  Have you ever been yachting?" she asked.

"The only ships I ever got on were Navy vessels.  Hardly luxury." he replied.

"I must take you out on the water sometime.  Hey, let me show you around..." She said, standing up and grabbing him by the hand.  He eagerly followed and in a moment they were off around the park lands.

They ended up on a small wooden bridge in a secluded part of the park.  The grounds went way beyond the neat little fenced off area where people took their dogs for a play and runaround and into a more natural, wilder area that had a small creek running through it.  Katherine stopped on the bridge and turned to face Action.

"Now this bridge has fond memories for me..." she said.  "When we were kids, my sister and I would come down here and play Pooh Sticks"

"What the heck is 'pooh sticks'?" Action replied.

"Have you not read Winnie the Pooh?"

"Do I look like a guy who's read Winnie the Pooh?"

"Come on!  Everyone's read Winnie the Pooh!  OK, maybe not you...anyway Pooh Sticks is a game..."

"Don't tell me; invented by this Winnie the Pooh character?"

"That's right.  Anyway, you play it like this:  You and your friends select a small stick, then you lean over a bridge, count to three and after that you drop your sticks into the water all at the same time, run over to the other side of the bridge and see which ones emerges first.  Look..." Katherine picked up a twig from the ground and showed Action how the game worked.

"Sounds like you could place bets and make some money if you picked the right kind of stick" he said, nodding.

"Now we just played it for fun, not to gamble on" said Katherine.

"The betting would make it more fun." replied Action.  "So this is your childhood haunt.  It's nice; I can see why you like it here."

"I thought I'd show you my neck of the woods, for a change" she replied.  There was a hush in the conversation and Action looked all around him; his internal radar ever tuned.

"Do you hear that?" he eventually said.

"Hear what?  What's up?" Katherine replied, anxiously.

"Nothing.  You can't hear anything other than the creek running.  No people, no critters.  Just quiet."

"Does that bother you?" she asked.

"No...but it does allow us to enjoy an unguarded moment..." he said, gently grabbing her and pulling her body towards his.  Katherine didn't resist at all, in fact she wanted this to happen...wanted the peace and tranquillity of Brindleton Bay to work their magic charm on Action.  Once embraced, they let themselves go and kissed each other.

"Mmmm, that was good" said Action.  "Is this the local romantic spot?"

"One of them" replied Katherine, with a knowing wink.

"I look forward to you showing me them all"

They walked around the park, sometimes holding hands and sometimes with Action's arm around her shoulders.  Then, at one point, Katherine broke away from his touch and turned to face him.

"It's great to be back together again" she said.

"That's what I was thinking. Great minds think alike." he replied.

"You're not going to put me on hold again, are you?"

Action paused and looked at her quizzically.  "I thought we'd talked about that:  No more me being overprotective about us."

"I know, but your life gets chaotic.  Sure, we're fine today but another big case you have to deal with, another crisis, some kind of escaped killer on the run and you put me as far from you as you can."

"I only do it to protect you" he said, touching her arm in comfort.

"I know that's what you think you're doing..." she replied, looking off into the distance for a moment before looking back at him.  "...but isn't it about protecting yourself?"

"What?  No!  I can look after myself!" he protested.

"Physically...but emotionally?  You pushed me away when things got tough; you never gave me a chance to prove I could stand my ground as well."

Action didn't have a reply to that.  "It's a tough world out there and..." he began.

"You don't think I'm tough, do you?  I'm a pampered rich girl who's had it easy, is that it?  Well, I'll let you know if things get too tough...don't make that decision for me."

"So....this means?  Aww, shoot, here's the one thing I didn't want to have happen today actually going to happen!" he said, looking past Katherine's shoulder.

""What's up?" said Katherine, suddenly concerned.

"We've been spotted by one of my colleagues...OK, time for some small talk..." he said, resignedly.  

A young woman of South Asian heritage and wearing a long, Indian style dress waved to Action and walked over.  She had an easy grace and style about her movements and Barbara wondered where he knew this exotic looking woman from.

"I didn't know you frequented Brindleton Bay as well, Prisha" said Action to the woman.

"I get around and about" she said, mysteriously.  "And I didn't know this was one of your haunts either" she added.

"Well, I'm getting a guided tour from Katherine here.  Kat, this is Officer Prisha Datta; she's a colleague from the 13th Precinct.  Prish, this is Katherine...my girlfriend" he said, making the introductions.  Just calling Katherine his "girlfriend" sounded lame when it came out of his mouth.  Made him sound like a high schooler.  Katherine was more than just a girlfriend...but he wasn't ready to upgrade her to fiancée or soulmate yet.

"So you're the mysterious woman in Action's life, eh?" said Prisha to Katherine.

"Actually, Action is the mystery man in my life." said Katherine, looking at Action in a knowing way.

"He's a bit of a mystery down at the precinct as well" said Prisha.

"I can imagine" replied Katherine.  Action said nothing but sat down next to his girlfriend and let the gossip float over his head.

Before Prisha could either relate some story about working with Action or Katherine could share an anecdote about how sweet, soppy and tender Action could be in private he decided to put the emphasis back on his work colleague.

"So, Prisha, are you still seeing that accountant?  What's his name?  Herbert?" he said, stretching out the two syllables of 'Herbert'.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I'm going to meet up with him very soon.  It's going well." Prisha replied.

"Give my regards to Herr-Bert, will you?" he said.

"I will.  Well, have fun you two...nice to meet you, Katherine.  Make sure he doesn't get you into trouble."

"I've got him on a short leash, nice to meet you too" Katherine replied.

When Prisha had left Action put his arm around Katherine's shoulders "Yeah, right, as if I can be kept on a leash!" he snorted, derisively.  Katherine merely smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"Now I'm not a complete stranger to Brindleton Bay" Action continued to say.  "I know a very nice place just up the road from here.  Let's get a drink..." 

Action took Katherine down to the nearby Club Calico; an uptown yachting club which Action knew about when he made an arrest there not so long ago.  He was impressed by the luxurious decor, the crystal-clear swimming pool, fantastic views over the bay and that they served excellent cocktails.

"Club Calico...you've got good taste, Action" said Katheine nodding in approval at the choice of destination.

"Know it well?" he replied.

"It's where the beautiful and wealthy all congregate in Brindleton Bay."

"Then you know it very well indeed...shall we?" he said, ushering her towards the club.

Action ordered the drinks and they sat by the pool as the sun set.  They were soon joined by an old lady who seemed dressed for a Hawaiian Luau and was wearing wrap-around sunglasses.  She sat down at the bar and looked inquisitively at Katherine.

"Is that...Katherine?  Katherine Bowie?  It is!  I didn't recognise you with that hair-do.  Well how are you?  I haven't seen you since your graduation." she said.

"I'm well, thank you.  Oh, let me introduce you to John..." she said, indicating Action sitting next to her.

The woman peered over her sunglasses and looked Action up and down.  "Pleased to meet you, John" she said, coolly.  "And how do you know Katherine?"

Before Action could say anything Katherine said "oh, Action and I are dating".

The woman nearly choked on her drink when Katherine said that and could only mutter "I hope you have a pleasant evening" Before turning away from them.

"So much for Civil Rights" muttered Action.

"The civility is thin on the ground at times." Katherine replied.

"So I notice" said Action, raising his glass to Katherine before taking a drink.  He smiled ruefully when another black man sat on the other side of the lady and she squirmed in her seat.

"An acquaintance of my parents.  Never mind her...what cases are you up to at the moment?"

"A real puzzler with the Goths.  I can't go into details but...say...do you know anything about her disappearance?" asked Action.

"Now that was the talk of the town a few years ago.  Rumour was that she had an affair and got pregnant so she had to 'disappear' for a while so she could get an abortion." replied Katherine.

"That makes more sense than some of the other theories I've been hearing...something mystical, unearthly or..."

"...alien?  Some people actually think she was abducted by aliens.  Ha!" laughed Katherine.

"Hello Detective" came a voice from behind them.  A deep, husky voice that sounded vaguely familiar to Action.  He turned around to see a plump, garishly dressed woman with a big bouffant hairstyle.

"Have we met?" asked Action.

"You don't recognise me like this, do you?  That's OK.  I remember you very well." said the woman.

"The voice rings a bell..." said Action.

"It should.  It's me:  Damian.  Damian Blount.  You've taken down my....particulars...a couple of times." they said, smirking at their innuendo laden comment.

The penny dropped.  Damian Blount:  The "artiste" thief with a penchant for stealing ladies' shoes and wearing them.  Well, Damian had obviously gone a lot further than just shoes this time.

"Damian?  Well, that new look of yours...." said Action.

"I know!  I'm finally living as me!  I'm fabulous!" 

"That's one word to describe it"

"I won't disturb you with your....lady friend.  I look forward to our next 'encounter', big boy" 

"Just keep your nose clean, Damian.  I hope you didn't steal that outfit from anyone"

"Oh Detective!  What a suspicious mind you have!  Right, I'm off to watch the house pianist over there.  He certainly can tinkle the ivories!  Bye bye" said Damian, giving Action a little flirtatious wave before sauntering off.

"You meet some interesting people, Action" said Katherine, looking at Damian walking over to the piano.  "I'm not sure about that colour combination though..."

"Just as long as he's staying on the right side of the law...anyway, that's interesting what you said about the Goths.  Do you know them well?" asked Action.

"Only at large social gatherings.  Nice enough people but there are so many rumours and stories about them.  Goodness knows what is true and what isn't but I'll tell you one thing...Mortimer Goth knows where all the skeletons are.  Not his...but everyone else's.  But he never says anything about them.  It's like he's...." and at that point Katherine looked off into the distance as if she was trying to remember something.

"What?" said Action, now on the edge of his bar stool and fascinated by what Katherine was going to say.

"...it's like he's...frightened of something." she said.

"I can't help but feel this is just one part of a larger story" said Action.  "The Goths, Bella's disappearance, the Landgraabs, Fengs and Villareals.  Something binds all of them."

"Well, I'm connected with all of them, socially.  I could do some digging around" said Katherine.

"Yeah, that might help but..." 

"...be careful.  I get it, Action, but don't wrap me in cotton wool or, worse, push me away again." 

"I won't.  But promise me you'll not be reckless.  I'm telling you it's the thing that binds them that is also the same group who messed with my mind and has tried to kill people."

"I promise" she said, finishing off the last of her wine.  Action looked her with a mixture of admiration and desire.

"My place?" he asked.  She nodded.

They headed off for Willow Creek as the daytime turned to dusk and the last light of the day was fading.  Standing outside of his house he paused before reaching for the door keys.  Turning to Katherine he said "I hope you had a good day"

"It was more than good" she replied.  "It was 'fun' meeting your friends as well"

"A work colleague and a flamboyant thief...some friends." he replied.

"Let's go inside before I get cold!" she said.

The inside of the Action household was warm and cozy with his exotic taste in decor prominent throughout.  His time in Vietnam heavily influenced how his home was decorated.  

"I'm hungry...I'll make us something" he said.

"Hmmm, sounds good:  I'm famished" 

"You make yourself at home" he said, heading to the kitchen.  But instead of sitting on the couch and kicking back, Katherine instead followed him into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"What you said...making myself at home and you've still got a pile of your breakfast dishes left lying around.  Now at home I'd make sure this would all be cleared up." 

"Don't you get your butler or someone to do it for you?" 

Katherine picked up a dish cloth and smacked him with it.  "I'm not useless!  Now, pass me those plates and you concentrate on the food!"

"Yes, ma'am...I don't have to tell you to make yourself at home:  You already have."

"And do you have a problem with that?" she asked with a hint of flirtatiousness in her voice.

"I don't have a problem with that at all..." said Action, thinking that maybe he should clear some space in his closet for her things as well.