Geoffrey sighs. "Cast yer vote than Miss Clara. I trust yer wits more than sum."
"Warren?" Getika looks back at the man and sighs, "Forgot about him I did. It is Warren, Clarence and Duke emptying pockets have not. Mister Warren is most quiet."
Clarence, sitting quietly and watching, sighs and looks up. "Ye all talk, but no one's listenin' ta what's bein' said. Pockets? Aye, I've got 'em. What d'ye expect, fer someone ta pull out a gun an' say 'Sure, an' it was me!'??"
He shakes his head silently and displays a pocket knife he always carries. His pockets are clearly otherwise empty.
"Mr. Warren, ya seed we warn't afeared ta punish those we thought wicked. We wuz wrong, yeah, but we warn't afeared. Iff'n you cain't speak up fer yerself, I gotta vote fer ya." Clara practically wrings her hands in distress. "Cain't ye stand up fer yerself? Empty yer pockets an' show goodwill?"
"An' you, Clarence, I guess we're all s'posed ta vote like you want jes 'cause it's you?" Clara shakes her head in disgust. "Ya say we ain't listenin', but you ain't answerin' questions, neither. Ignorin' ain't answerin'."
Geoffrey blushes even though the rebuke is meant for Getika.
"Miss Littlemoon...she jes needs it to feel better about thes sichiayshun, Mis-ter McFadden...don' be an-gry..."
Hearing Clara's announcement, Geoffrey sighs again and his hat bobs as he nods.
"So that's it...we shed be in con-cord if we ken..."
Getika looks Clarence in the eye as Clara speaks to him and hears Geoffrey just after that. She grimaces at the reaction, "Clara right is. Sharing is goodwill. Goodwill shows nothing to hide do you have. Avoiding or ignoring means hiding items or stubborn person. Mayhaps stubborn you are?"
"What've I not answered, lassie? 'f I could vote fer two, it'd be you an' Thadius. Ye've changed yer tune, sure, when folk noticed yer bloodthirst fer Gustav... an' the General. But ye've not changed yer behavior ta match th' tune."
|
"So this emptying of pockets is more than some type of flirting game, caused by the onset of paranoia?"
The Duke pulls his leather bag from across the back of his chair.
"I shall start with this."
From it he pulls 6 bottles of wine...
"Like I said House Atredies of assorted years."
He leans his cane against the table....
"I have cigars, a pipe, an eelskin pouch for tobacco, a knife from the war and my service revolver, as well as a bag of fine ribbon candy that I like to break into pieces and eat."
Smashes one of the hard ribbons on the tabletop.
"Would anyone like a piece?"
holds up candy
"It is very good, my children and grandchildren enjoy it."
"Thanks for the offer Duke. Candy is too sweet for me though."
Hamish declines the Duke's offer.
Clarence smiles at the Duke and chuckles softly at the offer of candy. "Sure an' I remember that... me ma used ta make a similar treat when I were just a wee lad."
He gets up and retrieves a small piece, returning to his seat to ruminate contentedly.
"Important listening is. Faith and trust in being open. Other reasons to use must be now. If flirting was meant I'd say frisking needed."
Getika takes a piece of candy and holds it, "Thanks be giving. Clarence stubborn is. Warren trust for is lost. If scared maybe speak he will. If guilty speak not."
"Clarence, ya ol' coot, ya keep sayin' I wanted the General dead like I had sumthin' ta do with it. I din't, and that's truth. He was a fine man an' I liked him. I don't rightly know who'da kilt him." Clara picks up a piece of the ribbon candy and goes to the window to keep an eye on Bessie, crunching the hard sweet loudly.
"I feel that voting is the most important part of the process. Since I have no better leads to go on I'm going to side with the majority on this one."
"Speak your peace Warren, and you may yet find redemption."
"Oh dear. The guilty remaining silent has happened in the past, I suppose."
"Thank you for the offer" she syas directly to the Duke, a bit apparently a bit awed by his title, "but I have little appetite for sweets any more."
She does a small curtsy.
Tina's eyes widen a bit when Geoffry produces a firearm, and there's some surprise seeing how much stuff Coraline had crammed in her purse, that bag must be larger on the inside somehow. There's a gasp as Hamish also produces a gun, the small shoemaker was surprised at just how many of the people had weapons almost everyone at least had a knife of some sort.
At the offer of candy she shakes her head "Thank you Mr. Duke, but I will pass, I always cut my mouth with that type of candy."
The young girl listens to everyone's arguments as they discuss who is most suspicious, and the voting starts. Considering the reasoning for Clara's vote she says in a small voice "Mr. Jin you've been very quiet as well, you should speak up, it's hard for me to voice my opinion too, but it looks like being too quiet will make people suspect you."
She takes in a breath and slowly lets it out "I don't want to see people hurt... but we have to stop the mafia, they already killed the general... I believe in Clara and Getika, I'll follow their vote."
Getika sits down and looks at the candy she has taken, twirling it about between her fingers as she listens. She looks to Tina and puts an arm around her shoulders, "Quiet is part of reason. Warren engaged no other requests. Poke him maybe someone should?"
"Is... is he still alive? Mebbe the mafier done struck agin whilst we was all argufyin'," Clara breathes, looking nervously at Warren's still form.
Geoffrey closes his eyes and tries to calm his roiling stomach. This whole situation is unreal. Even considering that Warren may have already been assassinated by the mafia even as they argued over which of them to kill was enough to make his stomach turn.
Thadius waves his hand at the wine. "Rather die sober, I reckon."
Now that Getika has made the comment about poking Warren and Clara thought she meant that the man may already be dead the woman decided that maybe she was right and Warren did need a little nudge.
"Fear holding still he may be." She says getting up and walking over to the man. She sits down beside him and pats his hand, "Ok are you, Warren? Talk please must you make sure all is well. Tell us ... tell us ..."
The native sits beside him with concern and starts to panic thinking maybe he had been killed. Or maybe she was making a mistake and sending another innocent off to die. Maybe they were but what they had ... Getika shook worrying about the situation. Her nerves took over and she closed her eyes feeling bile at the back of her throat as well as if she were about to vomit.
Dark brown eyes suddenly opened and she slapped herself to get herself to calm down. Deep breaths then the eyes became hardened only so she could force herself to calm. Finally her eyes soften and she starts to look at Warren to make sure he was alive.
Dan had been stuck in an indecisive shock at the events of the evening. There's a slight shake of his head at the thoughts of what may happen, so many guns around. He hadn't seen that many since the war, but at least the Duke had brought out some bottles. 'Cannot be drinking though, wouldn't want to act like a hypocrite.'
"What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds."
Warren seems to be dead in his spot. When the tides turned against him and to spare the blood on the hands of the others in the town, he drank an ichor, a medication for some condition he had but never really talked about, and now is peacefully sleeping, never to awake again. A suicide note in his hand says that he knew he would be killed by the others, and preferred a peaceful exit.
When Getika slams her hands on the table, candles flicker briefly, and Willard Wainwright is slumped face down over his writing table, his finest pen sticking out of his spine. It was true: A real mafioso could use anything as a weapon. Nobody is safe. Upon checking his pockets for any further clues, it seems that he was keeping notes to write about Sheriff Rastley, and among those notes, he writes of his time as an apprentice doing research to write a better detective novel. An apprentice of Rastley...
Dan can hardly speak, so much does the events shock him. That the quiet Warren thought to take his own life to spare the town guilt, does him credit. The baker rubs his sleeve across his face, hiding his pink eyes already full of sorrow.
Getika jumps back and looks at Willard with even more shock written on her face for she had not expected anything that was now happening. Her eyes wide she backs up further while shaking her head mouthing "no" over and over again.
Her back touches a beam and she slides down it putting he forehead upon her knees with her arms resting beside her ears, her hands hanging limp as she shakes while trying not to show her reaction. The woman could handle death but this was different. The native woman had been trying to get Warren to say something as Clara did mention him not talking. She had hoped startling Warren would make him talk but it seemed to have had the opposite effect.
Was she to blame for his death? Did her mention of him being quiet and not emptying his pockets make him kill himself rather than speak up for himself? And now Warren was dead as if they had lynched him and they probably would have. She felt as if she'd forced his medication down his throat instead of him choosing the way out himself.
And now Willard was also dead. How could she continue making such bad choices which were killing innocents? How could she live with herself for being the cause of deaths instead of the instrument that could at least try to heal them? It wasn't like killing for survival. It was killing with no direction.
Dan's chivalrous streak hit's him again as he see's the native taken aback. Rubbing his own thoughts away from his mind, he goes over to comfort her. Since she's wearing less than Tina, his comforting is even more awkward.
His hand hovers near the lady; "He did it so we would not want to feel guilt. It was a brave sacrifice, though if only he didn't have to do it." Thinking, falsely(?), that Getika was tearful like himself he murmurs words of comfort.
Watching as Getika moves over to nudge Warren hoping the man will say something, that he'll snap out of his shock and tell them he's innocent, she gasps fearfully when the native woman's nudge proves the man dead, it seems he chose to poison rather than trying to defend himself. "He wasn't mafia... why didn't he say so?"
There's a shriek of terror when the young girl sees Willard and the gruesome way he's been killed. She quickly hides her face in her hands trying to get the image out of her mind, and sobs. She tries to compose herself to say something, but just breaks down into sobs again.
"Perhaps they picked up some tricks from the Sheriff?" Dan says softly; "Or maybe the scum got lucky, whilst we haven't been." his voice is dour with consternation.
"Did Willard say anything to anyone? He always seemed so quiet to me."
"Naw, he war jus' always scribblin' away. Even if he warn't a detective, somebody'd prolly thot so. Too much booklarnin's bad for a body." Clara shakes her head sadly, removes the cup from Warren's hand, closes his eyes, and hefts the body onto her shoulders with muscles grown strong from a lifetime of hard work. She carries him to the far side of the room and lays him next to the General, then returns for Willard's body, gently removing the pen so the body will lie flat. "Don't nobody say nothin' 'bout takin' them to another room. I want y'all ta see what price we're payin' here 'cause a them mafiers."
She bows her head and murmurs a few words, then drifts back towards the table where Willard had written his last manuscript and begins to shuffle through the papers there. "Mebbe he wrote down whut he thot?" she ventures.
Jin stares about the room... the last hour has been filled with arguements, insults, and now more dead townfolk. His resolve to continue voting waivers a bit -- the expression easily readible on his face. And then echoing Tina's thoughts, Jin mummbles more to himself, "Why didn't he a least try to stick up for himself..."
He shakes his head trying to clear his thoughts. He nods to the two bodies, "If we're not going to move them at least let's find something to cover them up..." He nods towards Tina's sobbing form and glares at Clara -- trynig wordlessly to say: Have some respect, she doesn't need to see this! "...It's still the decent thing to do." To Tina he mutters, "Have courage, miss. At least Willard seemed to go fast and painless." I guess he went fast and painless, none of us heard a noise. And even if it is a lie, perhaps it will make Tina feel better.
"Did Willard say anything to anyone? He always seemed so quiet to me."
Jin, trying to get a curtain down to cover the two newest bodies, responds to Dan's question. "Perhaps, someone did talk to Willard. Maybe his detective skills were not as good as the late Rastley and he trusted the wrong person... did anyone see who he's been whipsering to? Maybe one of the last people to talk to Willard is mafia???". Jin is trying to grasp at anything, clearly his last plan of emptying pockets didn't work. And now two more innocents are gone...
"I should'a left him alone." Getika says in a quiet voice as Dan tries to comfort her, "I ... I heal not kill. I heal not kill. I killed him by words. Words kill. Words kill. Words kill."
"This is a dark time for the Scrafton County Police Force."
"C'n anybody sing?" Thadius asks. "Amazin' grace o' sumtin'?"
Clarence looks up and answers softly. "I can be playin' it on the pipes, if ye've got some on ye."
The edge of his mouth turns up in the slightest hint of a smile.
"Whatchu smilin' 'bout?" Thadius sneers, "Happy t' see Willard dead?"
Gustav haunts the proceedings watching from the other side.
Tina sniffles back her sobs managing to compose herself somewhat. She nods slowly at Jin's attempts to comfort her "Yes... courage, like Mr. Willard even though he was quiet he was trying his best to fight the mafia find out who they are and protect us all."
Hearing Thadius ask for someone to sing she gets up slowly from where she sat, she lightly touches the man's arm as she moves past "He was a kind man I don't think anyone would be happy to see him go."
She continues walking over to where Clara is placing the bodies "I don't think we'll forget the price Clara, it's far too high already. I don't know if my voice is good enough, or if it will help them rest more peacefully, but I will sing for them." The young girl looking towards the still forms begins singing Amazing Grace, in a soft sad voice.
Lines of sorrow slowly appear on his face. Tina's singing might not have been technically amazing, but it was all the better for that vulnerability. Her emotions laid bare upon the lyrics.
"Too many deaths, I don't know how to stop it." Dan says sadly, slumping against the edge of a pew.
Looking to the dead bodies, his hands slightly shaking. "I cannot give a gift such as the Duke is capable of, or sing in such a heart-felt manner of Tina, only that they have thoughts and prayers."
Getika looks up as Tina sings and wipes her eyes off on her sleeve. She take a deep breath as she ends the song and looks to Duke then Dan, "Right you are Dan. We cannot always win but we can try to get rid of the infection. Gift of the heart you give us."
The native woman touches Dan's arm then gives him a heart felt hug for his kindness.
Blushing furiously, he hasn't really been used to such a hug; especially from such a beautiful lady. For a second he doubts her, his back being exposed. However the lack of a knive thrust, proves to him her trustworthiness. "Thank you, you are as kind as you are clever."
Geoffrey merely looks on with sadness at the new round of deaths. Even worse then seeing acquaintances slain was the knowledge that the people he thought he knew were the ones responsible. The longer this went on, the more his heart was destined to break as he learned the truth behind this. But to save as many as possible...
Geoffrey wonders how to figure out a way to determine the killers. Emptied pockets had not been the answer, as the writer had produced his own murder weapon by doing so. He moves to a place along the wall and draws his derringer. He doesn't point the small gun at anyone, but has it ready should anyone make a move against him. He wouldn't go down without a fight.
"So...who's been fishy now, detec-tive?" Geoffrey asks Hamish.
"If you'da asked me what's fishy, I'd say this gal from outta town tryin' to act like any of mean a danged thing ta her. What's she all upset about, anyway? Not like she's knowed us from the day we was born, like the rest of us. Why's she here anyhow? Why's anybody think she's mafier?" Clara shakes her head in confusion, pointing at Getika. "Fer the life a me, I cain't figger if her bein' a furriner means she's more likely ta be mafier or less. I mean, who else'd be able to kill folk so easy? Somebody that don't know 'em, right? But why would she, 'less the mafier hired her to git rid of us."
Clarence sighs. "Yon contraption's changed ye, lass, or somethin' else has. Used to be ye never would o' hurt a mite... an' now here ye are tryin' ta get folk killed for bein' different. Sure an' yer in it with Thadius."
"You ain't listenin', old man. I cain't figger her. Dunno why she'd care iff'n a bunch of strangers die, but dunno why she'd come here and kill us, neither." Clara cocks her head at Clarence. "Dunno why you'd think I'm in anything with Thadius. He ain't never done me no good, nor no harm. Frankly, I don' see much use in him. His life seems' mighty suspicious ta me. Since you think he's suspicious an' voted fer him, so will I. An' I hope yer happy if he's innocent."
Finishing the song Tina rubs a tear from her cheek, she listens to the Duke's words and vow that each person laid to rest would go with a bottle of wine.
Songs sung, and words said it seems the short mourning period for their fallen friends is over as fingers are pointed again. This time at one of them at her newly appointed older sister. Getika was so nice to her, but truthfully she didn't know anything about the woman. She lets out a little breath in relief when Clara indicates she wasn't accusing her, just doesn't understand her, it sounds like she's thinking outloud "Getika was over by Warren, we could all see her, she's probably the only one that couldn't have killed Mr. Willard."
The young girl peers up at Clara as she casts her vote, and it looks like perhaps she says something quietly to the woman.