More depressing news today, thought Action. The war in Vietnam was becoming a stalemate, all that hard fighting and gains won just a year ago was being squandered now. And there was a threat of a coup d'etat in Syria. The world's getting more unstable...or is it that I've only just noticed? He thought, sombrely.
"And later this evening on SBS..." the TV announcer said in an overly merry and positive voice that clashed with the news about war around the world. "...action and adventure in outer space with the brand new series, Star Tr..."
Action firmly hit the off button on the TV remote control. "Man, I hate science fiction" he muttered. Instead he put on the radio and tuned it to his favourite soul station.
"That's more like it!" he said, smiling to himself.
But Action wasn't a man who could sit still for too long. It was his day off but he was always the cop, always thinking of solving a case and in his mind he had the death of Geoffrey Landgraab, probably at the hands of an assassin, going around and around his brain. He also had a hunch who that assassin was: Leanne McGregor. He could use his time productively by doing some snooping around but first he wanted to feel invigorated and his second favourite way of doing that was working out at the gym.
He was a regular at Movers n' Shakers Gym and well known by all the regulars. It helped that many of them were his neighbours as well. Sure enough, after he had changed into his PT gear, he saw Barbara having a work out.
"Hey, Babs" he said, laconically. "I would have thought running your own business was exercise enough!"
"It is, but I need to keep trim as well. Remember that time when I put on a lot of weight?" she replied.
"Yeah, but you still looked smokin'"
"Oh you flatterer, Action! But I never want to be that shape again, thank you. The cost of replacing all my clothes....sheesh! Anyway, will you be able to make Summer and Travis' wedding? Not long to go now..."
"I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"I love weddings. I loved Suzy's especially." she said wistfully. Action could detect the subtext.
"It'll be your turn soon enough. Jeremy's not going to let you slip through his fingers if he has any sense." he said.
"Sigh...I know. But I'm starting to get a little....impatient, you know? Not for the wedding itself but waiting for him to get down on one knee..."
"Jeremy's a straight up kind of guy. If he hasn't proposed yet it's because he doesn't want to steal Travis and Summer's thunder. Relax. Once those two have tied the knot it'll be your turn next. Trust me, Action knows."
"I'm sure you're right. And what about you? When will be your turn with Katherine?"
"Me?" said Action, wide eyed. "Hey, I'm not ready to settle down just yet. Action is a cool cat."
Barbara smiled, mischievously. "Sure you are, no one's cooler but you're also not going to let someone like Katherine slip through your fingers either."
After his workout Action was still restless. Working within the confines of the SCPD was restrictive: One moment he was on a murder case, the next it was taken away from him to hand over to the Feds or a specialist Homicide department. He was gathering an idea of a criminal sub-set working within the city: Working for the Landgraabs one moment, working for a shadowy cabal who hate the Landgraabs the next. The attempt on the lives of Alan Cuffe and his assistant, on Geoffrey's, the bankrolling of Malcolm Landgraab's drug dealing...some group was involved in it all. However, all he had to go on was a name, an out of date description of them and an image in his mind of a red headed man's face. It was time to start talking to his informants on the street...
"Sorry, Action, I can't help" said one of them, a lady who worked in the hospitality business and who knew a lot of people...law abiding and criminal...but on this occasion the names 'Leanne McGregor' and the description of a red headed man with a goatee beard didn't register with her.
There was another lady, an old retired woman Action had met whilst working on a case that involved lots of local burglaries. She was a 'curtain-twitcher', a woman with a lot of time on her hands who saw everything in her local neighbourhood. Getting the old folks to keep their eyes and ears open might be a good strategy, Action thought.
But then he spied a figure off in the distance and a bell went off inside his head. A red headed man with a goatee beard.
"Excuse me...sir!" Action called out. The man ignored him and kept walking.
"Sir! Stop! Sim City Police Department!" Action called out again. The man hesitated and then stopped.
"I'd like to you to help with my enquiries" said Action. "Could you spare some time now...or down at the station?" that last part was said not as a request but more like a threat.
The red headed man hesitantly turned around and walked slowly towards Action and the old lady.
"What is the matter, Police Detective?" the man said, coldly.
"Hey, I think I know you..." said the old lady.
The red headed man shot her a glare and for a moment Action noticed that she suddenly looked unsteady on her feet.
"No...we have never met" said the old lady, as if in a daze. "And I love all people who come to visit us". Action thought that statement came out of absolutely nowhere.
The lady started walking off without saying any kind of farewell. Action turned to the man, a suspicious look on his face.
"You sure have a way with women" he said.
"What is it that you need me to help you with, Police Detective?" said the red headed man, flatly.
"First, what is your name?" asked Action.
"My name? You wish to know my name?" the man replied. Action nodded.
"Well, I suppose it won't cause any harm in telling you...it is Luke Kendall. Now what is this about?"
"I'm sure we've met before, Mr Kendall"
"If we had then one of us would remember"
Action didn't immediately respond but instead looked Kendall squarely in the eye. Finally he said "do you know someone called Leanne McGregor?"
"What does she look like?" came Kendall's response.
"Average height, slim, long black hair, dark brown eyes, Mediterranean complexion."
"I do not know anyone who conforms to that description."
"Can you tell me where you were on the 18th August this year?"
"I was working" came Kendall's very prompt response.
"All day?"
"I worked a double shift that day. Business was intense."
"And what business are you in, Mr Kendall?"
"Catering. I manage a group of street vending stalls"
"OK, Mr Kendall, I'm going to need some contact details for you...now I'm sure we've met before and I KNOW it'll come back to me at some point."
"It shouldn't..." said Kendall and almost immediately, he realised he had let slip something that a smart detective like Action would pick up on.
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Action.
"I am very busy, Police Detective Action...I must go now..."
"Wait...I never said my name"
"I noticed it on your ID badge"
Just as Action thought it would be better to haul Kendall downtown for more questioning he was interrupted by a work colleague: A rookie cop called Jesse Navarro. He had been working out at the gym as well.
"Hey, Action! Glad I caught up with you! I have some more information about that break in case the Chief assigned you!"
"Not now, Navarro..." Action replied.
"No, this is really important! I know it's your day off but I know the Chief is anxious to make progress on the case.
Whilst Navarro was gushing all this information to Action, Kendall wandered off.
"Thanks a whole bunch, Navarro! I was just about to get some low down from that guy and you come bounding in and ruining it!"
"Hey, I wasn't to know and...well, who is he?"
"He could be the man I can't remember..."
"What? Wait? That doesn't make sense..." replied a puzzled Navarro.
"Never mind. I'll fill you in some other time"
That afternoon Action called on all his informants and those who had their ear to the ground in the underworld. Despite it's often rustic, Southwestern charm, the Rattlesnake Juice Bar in Oasis Springs was a place where ex-cons and grifters hung out. But when he asked around about Leanne McGregor he drew a blank from his network.
Disappointed, he went to sit at the bar and ordered a scotch and soda. And then a second one soon after. This mystery network of McGregor's and her cohorts did not leave a physical trace anywhere and yet he had met her in the flesh...twice...had evidence that she pulled the trigger on Madelyn Buchanan and that her name struck fear with some of his snitches.
Why can't I make any progress? He thought to himself as he became more sullen. And I'm sure that guy I met earlier has something to do with it. I have a vague memory...I'm in a bar in downtown San Myshuno, I'm meeting someone...someone who's involved in the case...he looks like that Kendall guy and then....BLANK! My memory goes.
But soon another thought enters Action's mind, and it's a voice not of his own.
"We ArE aLl ArOuNd YoU"
Action sat up to attention and looked around the bar. Who said that? There were only a handful of other patrons in the bar plus one barkeep and none of them were speaking to him.
"wE aRe AlL aRoUnD yOu...JoHn AcTiOn"
The voice was in his head and it sounded detached, as if someone had intruded into his mind. He shook his head to try to clear it of this sinister voice.
"CeAsE, jOhN aCtIoN...yOu CaNnOt StOp Us"
Action stood up, briskly strode to a window and looked out. Something was up, but he wasn't sure what. A man walked past the bar and looked slowly at the window Action was looking out from. His expression devoid of any emotion but for one brief moment he felt this man's gaze pierce straight into his soul.
Action looked again and saw another man with the same, expressionless look on his face and he too turned to face Action for a few seconds.
"We ArE eVeRyWhErE, jOhN aCtIoN...aLl ArOuNd YoU...cEaSe, GiVe In, Do NoT gEt In OuR wAy, We ArE eVeRyWhErE, eVeRyWhErE, aLl ArOuNd YoU...cEaSe..." over and over these words repeated themselves in Action's brain until they became deafening.
"Stop! Stop the voices! STOP THE VOICES!" Said Action, clutching his temples and shutting his eyes as the pain increased.
"Hey, Buddy, are you OK?" said a calm, soothing voice.
"What? What's happening?" said Action. There were two men sitting at the bar next to him. Action didn't remember going from the window back to his seat.
"You started shaking and calling out in pain. Do you need an ambulance?" said this voice, which turned out to be that of the man sitting next to him.
"I....was looking out the window..." said Action, pointing to where he'd been standing.
"Erm, you've been sat here the whole time. Are you sure I can't call for an ambulance, or someone else who could help you?"
Action looked startled and his eyes darted all around the room. What was going on? He nodded and said to the man "call me a cab" and he swiftly downed the rest of his drink.
"No. I'm staying here for a while. You can go home now, thank you and here's a little bonus for you" the old man sat in the back of the Cadillac limousine reached in to his jacket pocket and pulled out a wallet. He handed the chauffer a $20 bill.
"Thank you, Mr Landgraab"
The old man, whose full name was Malcolm Landgraab III, stepped out of the car and watched the limo drive off before he strode purposefully towards Affluista Mansion. Once it had been his home and now he had business there...
"Mom, a big limo just pulled up outside our house...who is it?" said Malcolm Landgraab IV.
"It's your grandfather" replied Nancy.
"Oh...this is going to be...interesting" the youth replied.
Nancy went dowstairs to answer the door, Malcolm Sr did not look happy.
"Daddy!" she said, enthusiastically.
"Nancy..." he said, walking straight past her and in to the mansion. "I find myself being dragged from my retirement in Sulani to deal with this mess you've found yourselves in. Where's Geoffrey and the boys?"
"Geoffrey's at the company building and Malcolm's here" she replied.
"And Jonathan?" asked Mal. Nancy looked downwards and said nothing.
"Oh, we still don't talk about Jonathan, is that it?" said Mal, gruffly. "Fetch Young Malcolm, here, what I have to say affects him."
Young Malcolm was not far away and heard everything his grandfather had said. He took two steps to make his presence known.
"Grandpapa" he said, in a flat tone.
"Drug dealing, eh?" said Mal. "Is that your 'independent business' is it?"
"I applied the lessons of business that you taught me, Grandpapa: See a market, exploit a demand..."
"You forgot lesson number 3: Don't get caught" said Mal. "Who is this Suzy Kent?"
"A muck-raking journalist..."
"They're all muck-raking, boy. Is there some personal connection between you and her that's gone sour?"
"What? No! I've met her twice in person but she's one of those moralistic busy-bodies, thinks she's clever and oh-so moralistic. I can have her dealt with, Grandpapa."
"Like you dealt with your former business colleague? I know what you've been up to; I have my spies in the company who keep me informed. You've outsourced your problem solving to Them, haven't you?"
"They have methods we don't..." Malcolm began to explain but Mal cut him off.
"I know that! I've dealt with them long enough but you always keep them at arms distance! I never let them get inside my head...please tell me you haven't let them inside your mind!"
"No!" Malcolm said, lying to his grandfather. He thought the old man just didn't understand how powerful he could be with the Visitors' help. Malcolm had seen what he could do with his followers that day at the Orchid A-Go-Go club when he got them to stare down Suzy Kent or Humphries or whatever that witch was called now.
"Good to hear...you NEVER let them inside there. You must maintain the power dynamic with them: They need us, need our resources and can't save themselves without our help so you don't let them gain advantage over you. I think you turning to them for help in dealing with your problems risks inverting that dynamic, young Malcolm. Your father shares the same weakness, unfortunately..."
"They can be very persuasive, Daddy. You've not seen things from where we're standing right now but they've become...more demanding of late." said Nancy.
Mal didn't directly respond to what Nancy said. He looked between his daughter and grandson and then spoke. "One thing remains unanswered: How did this Suzy Kent know about our activities and family history?"
"She obviously bribed or cajoled my former business associate, Madelyn Buchanan...backstabbing bitch that she is!" exclaimed Malcolm.
"That Buchanan woman only knows about your drug dealing, Malcolm. Did either of you two bother to read Kent's article?" asked Mal. Nancy shook her head.
"Why would I waste my time reading that nonsense?" said Malcolm, contemptuously.
"Because it's very revealing, boy!" snapped Mal. "She mentions Dirk Landgraab starting the company, our family history and makes reference to my father and where he found his wealth! No one outside of this family knows about these things so where did she find this out from? Hmm? Any guesses....apparently not."
"Let's bring her in and use the machine on her, Grandpapa"
"I agree with Malcolm; we can break her will in a few hours" added Nancy.
"This family is facing massive fraud allegations and two murder enquiries and you want to add kidnapping to the list. YOU TWO ARE NOT THINKING!" Mal bellowed. He took a moment to calm down whilst the others stood by, not saying a word.
"Right. This is not a time to double down on what has got us to this point" Mal started to explain. "We need to consolidate, close ranks and not pour gas on the fire. This Kent woman can wait for now. What do we know of your whistleblower, Jeremy Saint?"
"He's middle management, we thought we could trust him...he underwent security checks and we had him subjected to the machine for treatment." said Nancy.
"And why would you do that if you trusted him, eh? Why brainwash someone who's already on your side...unless?" said Mal.
"Well...because...we had to groom him for our purposes, Daddy."
"But you said you trusted him..."
"Eventually. But...but..."
"He's friends with Suzy Kent, Grandpapa" interjected Malcolm.
"Well, well, well, he's friends with Suzy Kent. And you let this man rise through the company ranks, knowing who his close associates are."
"But we used the machine on him to make him hate her and another friend of his: Detective John Action."
"Clearly that didn't work otherwise HE WOULDN'T HAVE TURNED OVER OUR COMPANY SECRETS TO THAT SAME DETECTIVE ACTION!" Mal yelled. "Incompetence! You should have had Saint monitored at all times! The machine can only break a person's will for so long...we haven't figured out how to make the brainwashing permanent yet. Was this all your idea, Nancy?"
"No...it was...it was..." she began to speak but found it difficult to say the words.
"I can guess...it was Geoffrey's idea." said Mal. "Leave us, Malcolm, your mother and I have to have a discussion in private."
"Mom...I'm so sorry about my role in this but I can explain!"
"Later, perhaps, son. You leave your grandfather and I to talk."
"Is the upstairs lounge still there or have you converted it into something else?" Mal asked Nancy.
"It's still much the same as the last time you were here" she replied.
"Good." said Mal, heading straight upstairs. Nancy followed him.
As soon as he had reached the top of the stairs, to the only room on the third floor, he sat down in one of the lounge chairs. Nancy felt anxious about what her father wanted to say to her and, in a defensive action, went and stood by the easel where she had begun a figure painting only the day before. She couldn't sit down with all the nervous tension she felt.
"You're looking well, Nancy. Very well. You've kept yourself in good shape, I can see you maintain your looks and it hasn't escaped my notice that you've had some 'enhancements' as well."
"Thank you...Daddy" said Nancy, nervously.
"Geoffrey looks tired by comparison. Based on what I see of him in the news." continued Mal.
"He has a lot to deal with"
"Yes, I'm sure he does. Are you still committed to one another or do you find yourself heading in different directions?"
"Father! Everything's...fine" said Nancy, shocked. She didn't mention her growing suspicion that Geoffrey was infatuated with their cleaning lady.
"I want to see how the land lies around here" said Mal. "You see, there will be some changes soon..."
"Changes?"
"I'm afraid, Nancy, that we can't just ride out the crisis out this time. Too much information has been leaked now and not even our army of extremely well paid lawyers can make it all go away."
"But they'll mitigate the damage, certainly" said Nancy. "The police and press don't know even a fraction of what we do. My side of the company is still functioning well and hasn't been implicated."
Mal shook his head. "What is needed is a scalp to throw at the authorities. We need a fall guy..." he said.
"We've got a couple lined up; middle manager types who have done some 'delicate' work for us in the past and who will we will compensate handsomely..." replied Nancy.
"No. That won't do." said Mal, coldly. "It's an election year in the city, the D.A. is desperate to get a win in a big case to help his gubernatorial chances. The press won't settle for a middle manager being thrown to the wolves either. Someone higher up needs to take the fall. Someone with the Landgraab name..."
Nancy went pale and started to feel nervous. "Not Malcolm! Not my boy!"
"What young Malcolm needs is firmer guidance and coaching. One day the company and all that's in it will be his. He is the future." said Mal. "You are the present. Geoffrey is the past."
"You mean one of us must go on trial..." said Nancy, gulping.
"Geoffrey must" said Mal, blankly. "It was on his watch that all of this has happened. He made serious errors of judgement. You have always been headstrong and impetuous, my dear, so I hold you to a different standard. Geoffrey has been logical, methodical and calculating over the years but his touch has deserted him recently. Can you not see that?"
"He has let things slide...father, I believe Geoffrey might be having an affair with one of our staff"
"That wouldn't surprise me. It's common with the modern executive with all their reliance on gadgets, secretarial pools and opportunities to stray more than in my heyday. I have thought about this hard, Nancy, and I don't want to have to do this but I feel I must for the sake of everyone else."
"What will happen to the rest of us?" asked Nancy, with trepidation.
"You will be kept out of this and continue to help run the company. I will come out of retirement to act as interim CEO and Malcolm will be kept on a shorter leash but will be gradually given more responsibility and put on the correct path. And we must come to an accommodation with Jonathan..."
"No, father! He is not part of this family anymore! He will not take one step into this house!" said Nancy, defiantly.
"I don't know what happened between you and him but he's going to be put under immense pressure by our enemies and the press to spill the beans about our family and as things stand he has no incentive to be kind to us! I will figure something out with him"
"You don't know what he did!" declared Nancy with venom in her voice.
"Whatever it was it's nowhere near as bad as the situation we find ourselves in now!"
"That is my plan, Nancy, and we will stick to it. As for Geoffrey, I will make sure to mitigate the trouble he will go through."
At that moment Malcolm had appeared at the top of the stairs. "Grandpapa" he said "there's a Visitor at the door."
"Tell them to go away" replied Mal.
"No...I mean a Visitor."
Mal realised what young Malcolm was referring to and he nodded and said "I'll be right down"
When he got to the front door he found a solemn looking young man lurking out the front of the house and Mal figured this was the Visitor in question so he approached him.
The young man spoke first. "What we have heard concerns us greatly, Malcolm Landgraab the Third"
"Ugh, why can't you people ever use contractions? Call me Mal Landgraab so you don't confuse me with my grandson...and to save time as well."
"You have returned from your retirement, Mal Landgraab, we are troubled by what we have observed in the newspapers."
"I'm here to sort the matter out so you have no need to worry"
"But we do worry, Mal Landgraab. We have an arrangement."
"My arrangement with you was made through John, I shall speak with him"
"John Tom O'Connor has returned home, Luke Kendall is now in charge. My name is James Sprague and I act as liaison"
"Well, you go and tell Luke that I have things firmly in hand. Oh, and in future, under no circumstances are you to involve my grandson in your schemes."
"He came to us, Mal Landgraab."
"Nevertheless, if he tries to contact you again, say no to him. And then refer the matter to me. Do you understand?"
"I understand, Mal Landgraab"
With that bit of business done, Mal returned to the mansion. Now the next pressing bit of business was to wait until Geoffrey came home.
Geoffrey arrived in the early evening, exhausted. He found Malcolm doing his homework in the kitchen. Usually when he arrived home his son would greet him with a shrug or indifference as he had his head buried in either homework or some personal project of his own. This time Geoffrey found Malcolm to be more attentive when he entered the room.
"Hi Dad...we have a guest with us." said Malcolm.
"Oh yes, who?"
"Grandpapa"
That news wasn't warmly received by Geoffrey, although he did his best to hide it. If Big Mal was here, it must be serious and Geoffrey knew why: News of the scandal had reached Sulani already.
"Where is he right now?" asked Geoffrey.
"I'm here, Geoffrey my boy" came Mal's voice as he entered the kitchen. "Geoffrey, good to see you. How are you bearing up?"
"As well as can be expected. How much do you know?" asked Geoffrey.
"Virtually all of it."
"OK then, well at the moment I'm trying to keep a lid on things the best I can" said Geoffrey.
"Isn't it a bit late for that?" said Mal, knowingly.
"What do you mean?" asked Geoffrey, suspiciously.
"Sit down, Geoff..." said Mal, motioning Geoffrey to one of the dining chairs.
"I'm not going to sugar coat this..."
"That's not your style, Mal"
"For sure. It's like this, Geoff. This is the biggest challenge this company has ever faced since the Civil War. Things got ugly back then with Congressional hearings, threats of indictments and the company being ruined over war profiteering. I needn't bore you with the details, you know the family history. We're in those times again even though the charges levelled against the company...and the family...are different."
"We just have to ride it out, Mal. I've got top men...top men...in the legal department..."
"You don't have to tell me, I hired half of them in the first place. Now listen here, Geoff, you've done a lot of good work here since I retired. For many years before that you were my right hand man..."
"I thought you didn't want to sugar coat things..."
"I'm just stating a fact. You were groomed as a young man to be in the inner circle of this family; I know it was hard growing up without much whilst your cousins were living in mansions, I get it. You had ambition and I saw the potential in you. And you've done well in keeping Nancy in line whenever she gets impulsive and threatens to wreck everything through her greed. But you've lost your touch in the last couple of years. No, let me finish. Jonathan gets banished, Malcolm indulges in crimes far beneath his station in life, Nancy is once again making decisions based on pure emotion and not sense and you're turning increasingly towards the Visitors for help. And I know about you and the cleaning lady"
"What? I've not cheated on Nancy with her! Honest, Mal!"
"Maybe not yet but it's on your mind. I know also that Nancy's been going to fancy events without you. But bigger than all that is the witch hunt that is forming amongst our enemies and I can tell you let things slide, which has led to the current mess. You let a fashion journalist, a negro cop, a mild mannered functionary and a home brewing drug dealer who works for a pornographer get the better of you. Stop me if I say anything that isn't true, by the way."
Geoffrey said nothing.
"I've come up with a plan that will save the company and protect the family. I will not see Nancy and Malcolm out on the streets in poverty or being humiliated."
"But as for me..."
"As for you, someone has to take the fall. There's no other way. It has to be someone prominent and close to the top, if not the top. It has to be you"
"What's your plan for me? I get arrested and go to prison for the rest of my life?"
Mal shook his head. "Not the rest of your life. Plead guilty to the fraud, blame the murder attempts on some fictitious flunky who doesn't exist but who we'll say has fled the country and Malcolm does community service for his part in the drug dealing. As you said, you have top lawyers: We can get that sentence down from life to 20, I'll make sure you are sent to an open prison and you'll be out in 7 to 10 with a very handsome renumeration for your loyalty and dedication to the family."
"That's it? That's the deal?" exclaimed Geoffrey. "I'm paying for the mistakes of others here!"
"Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown, Geoffrey. You nearly cost us the kingdom: In less enlightened times they'd cut your head off for treason. You're lucky: Take the hit, bide your time and you'll be out to enjoy retirement."
"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.
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.
"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"
