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section7mfuTitle: The Peaceful Meadows Affair, chapter nine
Summary: Some things may become more clear, but others just open up more questions.
By Lucky_Ladybug
Chapter Nine
Jack the gate guard was confused and bewildered when the entire group marched up to him. “What is this?” he exclaimed.
Harvey stopped in front of him and spoke calmly. “Jack, this young woman lied to get in here. Oh, she wanted to speak with Allan and Luther alright, but her reason was really because they’re trying to help her find her brother, Martin Jensen.”
Jack stiffened. “M-Martin Jensen?” he stammered.
Jennifer folded her arms, giving him a displeased glare.
“It’s alright, Jack,” Harvey soothed. “You can talk about him this one time. Tell Ms. Jensen if you saw Martin out the gate the night he had to move on.”
“Even if they use the secret panels in the houses, anyone leaving still has to go through the gate,” Marietta explained. She had regained her composure on the walk and now seemed perfectly confident once again in the community.
Harvey nodded. “So Jack is always the one person who actually sees everyone depart.”
“Here’s a good question for you,” Wye spoke up. “I’ve been thinkin’ about it and those panels don’t make a lot of sense. Most of these people still have motorcars. If they go out through the panels, how are they going to get their cars to go with them?”
“Not to mention their belongings, if they have more than what would fit in a couple of suitcases,” Ecks added pointedly.
“You’re forgetting about the curfew,” Harvey said. “No one is allowed to drive after ten P.M. All of our departures happen late at night, when everyone is asleep. There’s no need for the whole community to know, after all. When the curfew is lifted in the morning, Jack drives the vehicles out the gate and to wherever the departing guest wants.”
“As for belongings, people rarely accumulate more than what would fit in their cars, at least,” another Council member spoke up.
“I load all of those, too,” Jack stammered.
“So, back to the original question,” Jennifer said, her tone very clipped. “Did you see my brother out the night he was told to leave?”
Jack snapped to attention and looked to her. “Y-Yes, of course,” he said. “I saw him right out. It was around two A.M.”
“And just what was he going to do until he could get his car?” Jennifer demanded.
“I . . . I called him a cab,” Jack said. “He went to the hotel in town. That’s where I took his car and other stuff in the morning. That’s all I know. Honest!”
Napoleon wasn’t so sure. “You seem awfully nervous,” he voiced. “Why, if that’s truly all you know? It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Instead of answering the question, Jack jumped and stared at him. “What are you doing here?” he exclaimed. “And you?” He looked to Illya.
“We live next-door to Allan and Luther and we saw them coming with Ms. Jensen,” Napoleon said. “She thought we should know the story of her brother. I’m inclined to agree.”
“You can check the hotel,” Jack insisted. “They’ll have a record of him being there.”
“Then that’s exactly where we’re going to go now,” Napoleon said.
Illya turned to Harvey. “I trust that we will be allowed to leave?”
“Of course,” Harvey retorted. “It’s nowhere near curfew yet.”
The entire group was troubled as they walked back to their cars parked by the front office. “Well, now, what do you make of that?” Wye frowned. “I say that chap’s lyin’ through his teeth.”
“I agree,” Illya declared.
“He’s certainly afraid of something,” Napoleon mused. “I don’t know if he’s lying, but he knows more than he said.”
“But we also have to face the idea that maybe he isn’t lying,” Ecks spoke up, leaning on the hood of his and Wye’s car with both hands. “What happens if we get to that hotel and everything checks out?”
“There’s a lot of possibilities,” Napoleon said. “Perhaps the hotel is actually where everyone disappears. We’ll have to find out if our most recent missing persons went there too. Or maybe whatever happens, happens after they leave the hotel.”
“Or perhaps the hotel staff would lie and say Martin Jensen and the other missing people were there when they were not,” Illya retorted. “They could all be in the pay of whoever is behind this.”
“Well, let’s not stand around talking about it!” Jennifer snapped. “Let’s go!” Without waiting for the others, she leaped into her car and sped ahead. Jack allowed her through the gate.
Illya climbed into Napoleon’s car. “Let’s talk while we go,” he said flatly.
Napoleon nodded. “Good idea.”
****
It wasn’t hard to find the hotel; the surrounding town was small and it was the only inn. But when the hotel staff was only too eager to cooperate, informing them that yes, Martin had stayed there and so had Clarice and Everett, but they had all left, and the manager even showed all three of the rooms where they had stayed, Napoleon and Illya’s suspicions only mounted.
“This is not logical,” Illya frowned. “Why are they being so helpful? I thought we might either have to bribe them or break our cover and show our U.N.C.L.E. identification before they would do anything.”
“Yes, it doesn’t make sense, does it?” Napoleon said low, glancing about before entering what had supposedly been Martin’s room. “They might let Jennifer in, but why us? And why show us the other rooms as well? Legally, they’re not supposed to give out that information.”
“I say it all must be tied together,” Illya said. “Most likely, they received a telephone call from the Council ordering them to play along and tell us what we want to hear.”
“Or it could be only some members of the Council involved,” Napoleon reminded.
“Or someone else entirely,” Ecks said as he came up from behind.
“There’s nothin’ to see here,” Wye said in annoyance. “If there was, it was taken away long ago.”
“Of course; they wouldn’t leave any clues lying around,” Napoleon said.
“If this was even Martin Jensen’s room at all,” Illya frowned. “I’m still not convinced he was ever here.”
“We still need to talk to Marietta Crabtree in private,” Ecks said.
“Yes, I’m planning to see to that when we go back to the community,” Napoleon said.
“If they will even let us back in,” Illya grunted in disgust.
“For now they have to,” Napoleon answered. “If they force us out now, it will only look more suspicious.”
“They might make up some new rule we’ve broken,” Illya said.
“That honestly sounds pretty plausible by now,” Wye said. “Let’s all stay on guard.”
****
After leaving the hotel, the group spent a bit of time in town, talking to people in nearby restaurants and at the local cab company. But the restaurants weren’t very helpful; no one remembered any of the missing people. And the cab driver who had supposedly driven Martin was off-duty, while the one who had driven Everett and Clarice was on his shift and unavailable to be questioned.
“That’s all very convenient, isn’t it,” Napoleon mused as they walked away.
“A little too much so, if you want my honest opinion,” Wye grunted.
“The Council—or whoever—certainly has a far-reaching arm,” Illya scowled.
“There’s nothing more we can do here,” Ecks said in annoyance. “Let’s go back to Peaceful Meadows and try talking to Marietta.”
“Fine with me,” Wye said. “Just don’t go expectin’ much from her.”
“She seems honestly confused and upset each time we surprise her with a new revelation,” Napoleon said, climbing into his car. “She could be weakening.”
“Or she could decide that in the end, no matter what gobsmacks her, she’s still on the Council and that’s the most important thing,” Wye retorted.
“Also very possible,” Napoleon agreed.
****
Marietta was home when they arrived back through the gate. Seeming to have been half-expecting them, she rushed to the front door and flung it open the instant they pulled up. “Well?” she called down the steps. “Did you find out anything?”
“Perhaps,” Napoleon replied, vaguely.
“Now we would like to come in and talk with you,” Illya said.
“With me? But I don’t know anything more than what’s already been said,” Marietta objected.
“Do you know about that painting?” Napoleon returned as he headed up the driveway and the steps. “Are you Mary Apple?”
Marietta averted her gaze. “I know about the painting,” she said, being vague now herself. She moved out of the way, allowing the group to come onto the porch and into the house. She shut the door after them.
“Why does the Council use that painting in every house?” Illya asked.
“They like it, I guess,” she shrugged. “Something about it appealed to them.”
“And you don’t know what that is?” Ecks frowned.
“I never really have.” Marietta looked at him for a moment and then turned away. “I have the feeling that they don’t always tell me everything.”
“Why not, Duckie?” Wye asked, leaning on the back of the couch. “Don’t they trust you? Seems funny they wouldn’t, you being one of them and all.”
Marietta frowned. “Sometimes Harvey seems so vague, even mysterious. There’s other people who think he leaves them out of important decisions too.”
“I see,” Napoleon said. “But you know, you can be vague as well. You never did say if you painted the picture in all the houses.”
Marietta wrung her hands, seeming to be debating with herself. At last she said, “No, I didn’t. Mary Apple was my sister.” She turned to face the stunned group. “She went missing years ago without a trace. When this community was first getting started, I was here and I saw that her painting was going up in every house. I thought that was strange and I wondered if the people running this community knew what happened to her. I still don’t know the answer to that.”
Not about to buy a hard-luck story so easily, Wye still looked suspicious. “So all of this ‘loyalty to the Council’ is just an act?” he said.
“No, not really,” Marietta sighed. “I’ve really grown fond of Peaceful Meadows and the Council. I haven’t found any indication that they know anything about my sister. They probably don’t. They probably just saw her painting in some museum somewhere, liked it, and bought it on a whim.”
“And had someone make many copies of it,” Napoleon remarked.
“If Mary Apple is your sister, why are you using such a similar name?” Illya wanted to know. “Is that on purpose?”
“Yes,” Marietta nodded. “My real name is Rebecca. I thought if I introduced myself as Marietta Crabtree, maybe someone who knew something about my sister would connect the dots and come to me.”
“A daring and dangerous plan,” Napoleon noted.
Jennifer looked at Marietta with new respect. She clearly did believe the tale. “I’m so sorry about your sister,” she said quietly. “But if you’ve decided that no one here knows about her, why stay? It’s time to move on and look somewhere else.”
“I don’t know where to look,” Marietta sighed. “I asked Harvey once where he bought the painting, but he was vague and said something about finding it at some art exhibit in Greenwich Village. I couldn’t really imagine Mary being there, but I went and looked more than once, and even brought a copy of the painting to show the people there. If anyone remembered it, they didn’t volunteer any information.”
“And it’s possible they remembered,” Illya said. “They’re a very close-lipped community.”
“Still, I think they would help a worried sister, if they came to believe the story was real and not made-up,” Napoleon said.
Marietta looked even more worried at that. “So then if Harvey was lying about where he got the painting, maybe he really does know something!” she exclaimed.
“Have you ever even asked him about your sister?” Jennifer asked, folding her arms.
“Yes, but he showed no sign of recognition, except when I said she’d painted that picture.” Marietta sighed. “I believed him.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have,” Jennifer said passionately. “Maybe it’s time you have it out with him and demand the truth.”
“I wouldn’t say demandin’ the truth has got us much of anywhere,” Wye grunted. “We’re still just as stuck on the Martin Jensen case as we were before you showed up.”
“Do you have a picture of your sister?” Napoleon asked Marietta, suddenly curious.
Marietta blinked, surprised by the query. “Why, yes,” she admitted. “I have a small one in my wallet.” She crossed the room to a small telephone desk and opened her purse. Taking out her wallet, she opened it and flipped to a particular picture of two young women.
Napoleon nodded, eyeing the shot of the sisters appreciatively. Shooting him a look, Illya glanced at it as well.
“You still look like yourself, but it’s hard to say whether your sister still resembles this photograph,” Illya said. “You don’t have anything more recent?”
Marietta shook her head. “She disappeared shortly after this was taken.”
Ecks also came over, Wye in tow, both curious about the mysterious sister. But as soon as Ecks saw the picture, he stiffened.
“What is it?” Illya frowned, regarding him in bewilderment.
Wye answered for him. “Cor blimey,” he exclaimed in disbelief. “The sister is Agent Cue!”
Summary: Some things may become more clear, but others just open up more questions.
Chapter Nine
Jack the gate guard was confused and bewildered when the entire group marched up to him. “What is this?” he exclaimed.
Harvey stopped in front of him and spoke calmly. “Jack, this young woman lied to get in here. Oh, she wanted to speak with Allan and Luther alright, but her reason was really because they’re trying to help her find her brother, Martin Jensen.”
Jack stiffened. “M-Martin Jensen?” he stammered.
Jennifer folded her arms, giving him a displeased glare.
“It’s alright, Jack,” Harvey soothed. “You can talk about him this one time. Tell Ms. Jensen if you saw Martin out the gate the night he had to move on.”
“Even if they use the secret panels in the houses, anyone leaving still has to go through the gate,” Marietta explained. She had regained her composure on the walk and now seemed perfectly confident once again in the community.
Harvey nodded. “So Jack is always the one person who actually sees everyone depart.”
“Here’s a good question for you,” Wye spoke up. “I’ve been thinkin’ about it and those panels don’t make a lot of sense. Most of these people still have motorcars. If they go out through the panels, how are they going to get their cars to go with them?”
“Not to mention their belongings, if they have more than what would fit in a couple of suitcases,” Ecks added pointedly.
“You’re forgetting about the curfew,” Harvey said. “No one is allowed to drive after ten P.M. All of our departures happen late at night, when everyone is asleep. There’s no need for the whole community to know, after all. When the curfew is lifted in the morning, Jack drives the vehicles out the gate and to wherever the departing guest wants.”
“As for belongings, people rarely accumulate more than what would fit in their cars, at least,” another Council member spoke up.
“I load all of those, too,” Jack stammered.
“So, back to the original question,” Jennifer said, her tone very clipped. “Did you see my brother out the night he was told to leave?”
Jack snapped to attention and looked to her. “Y-Yes, of course,” he said. “I saw him right out. It was around two A.M.”
“And just what was he going to do until he could get his car?” Jennifer demanded.
“I . . . I called him a cab,” Jack said. “He went to the hotel in town. That’s where I took his car and other stuff in the morning. That’s all I know. Honest!”
Napoleon wasn’t so sure. “You seem awfully nervous,” he voiced. “Why, if that’s truly all you know? It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Instead of answering the question, Jack jumped and stared at him. “What are you doing here?” he exclaimed. “And you?” He looked to Illya.
“We live next-door to Allan and Luther and we saw them coming with Ms. Jensen,” Napoleon said. “She thought we should know the story of her brother. I’m inclined to agree.”
“You can check the hotel,” Jack insisted. “They’ll have a record of him being there.”
“Then that’s exactly where we’re going to go now,” Napoleon said.
Illya turned to Harvey. “I trust that we will be allowed to leave?”
“Of course,” Harvey retorted. “It’s nowhere near curfew yet.”
The entire group was troubled as they walked back to their cars parked by the front office. “Well, now, what do you make of that?” Wye frowned. “I say that chap’s lyin’ through his teeth.”
“I agree,” Illya declared.
“He’s certainly afraid of something,” Napoleon mused. “I don’t know if he’s lying, but he knows more than he said.”
“But we also have to face the idea that maybe he isn’t lying,” Ecks spoke up, leaning on the hood of his and Wye’s car with both hands. “What happens if we get to that hotel and everything checks out?”
“There’s a lot of possibilities,” Napoleon said. “Perhaps the hotel is actually where everyone disappears. We’ll have to find out if our most recent missing persons went there too. Or maybe whatever happens, happens after they leave the hotel.”
“Or perhaps the hotel staff would lie and say Martin Jensen and the other missing people were there when they were not,” Illya retorted. “They could all be in the pay of whoever is behind this.”
“Well, let’s not stand around talking about it!” Jennifer snapped. “Let’s go!” Without waiting for the others, she leaped into her car and sped ahead. Jack allowed her through the gate.
Illya climbed into Napoleon’s car. “Let’s talk while we go,” he said flatly.
Napoleon nodded. “Good idea.”
It wasn’t hard to find the hotel; the surrounding town was small and it was the only inn. But when the hotel staff was only too eager to cooperate, informing them that yes, Martin had stayed there and so had Clarice and Everett, but they had all left, and the manager even showed all three of the rooms where they had stayed, Napoleon and Illya’s suspicions only mounted.
“This is not logical,” Illya frowned. “Why are they being so helpful? I thought we might either have to bribe them or break our cover and show our U.N.C.L.E. identification before they would do anything.”
“Yes, it doesn’t make sense, does it?” Napoleon said low, glancing about before entering what had supposedly been Martin’s room. “They might let Jennifer in, but why us? And why show us the other rooms as well? Legally, they’re not supposed to give out that information.”
“I say it all must be tied together,” Illya said. “Most likely, they received a telephone call from the Council ordering them to play along and tell us what we want to hear.”
“Or it could be only some members of the Council involved,” Napoleon reminded.
“Or someone else entirely,” Ecks said as he came up from behind.
“There’s nothin’ to see here,” Wye said in annoyance. “If there was, it was taken away long ago.”
“Of course; they wouldn’t leave any clues lying around,” Napoleon said.
“If this was even Martin Jensen’s room at all,” Illya frowned. “I’m still not convinced he was ever here.”
“We still need to talk to Marietta Crabtree in private,” Ecks said.
“Yes, I’m planning to see to that when we go back to the community,” Napoleon said.
“If they will even let us back in,” Illya grunted in disgust.
“For now they have to,” Napoleon answered. “If they force us out now, it will only look more suspicious.”
“They might make up some new rule we’ve broken,” Illya said.
“That honestly sounds pretty plausible by now,” Wye said. “Let’s all stay on guard.”
After leaving the hotel, the group spent a bit of time in town, talking to people in nearby restaurants and at the local cab company. But the restaurants weren’t very helpful; no one remembered any of the missing people. And the cab driver who had supposedly driven Martin was off-duty, while the one who had driven Everett and Clarice was on his shift and unavailable to be questioned.
“That’s all very convenient, isn’t it,” Napoleon mused as they walked away.
“A little too much so, if you want my honest opinion,” Wye grunted.
“The Council—or whoever—certainly has a far-reaching arm,” Illya scowled.
“There’s nothing more we can do here,” Ecks said in annoyance. “Let’s go back to Peaceful Meadows and try talking to Marietta.”
“Fine with me,” Wye said. “Just don’t go expectin’ much from her.”
“She seems honestly confused and upset each time we surprise her with a new revelation,” Napoleon said, climbing into his car. “She could be weakening.”
“Or she could decide that in the end, no matter what gobsmacks her, she’s still on the Council and that’s the most important thing,” Wye retorted.
“Also very possible,” Napoleon agreed.
Marietta was home when they arrived back through the gate. Seeming to have been half-expecting them, she rushed to the front door and flung it open the instant they pulled up. “Well?” she called down the steps. “Did you find out anything?”
“Perhaps,” Napoleon replied, vaguely.
“Now we would like to come in and talk with you,” Illya said.
“With me? But I don’t know anything more than what’s already been said,” Marietta objected.
“Do you know about that painting?” Napoleon returned as he headed up the driveway and the steps. “Are you Mary Apple?”
Marietta averted her gaze. “I know about the painting,” she said, being vague now herself. She moved out of the way, allowing the group to come onto the porch and into the house. She shut the door after them.
“Why does the Council use that painting in every house?” Illya asked.
“They like it, I guess,” she shrugged. “Something about it appealed to them.”
“And you don’t know what that is?” Ecks frowned.
“I never really have.” Marietta looked at him for a moment and then turned away. “I have the feeling that they don’t always tell me everything.”
“Why not, Duckie?” Wye asked, leaning on the back of the couch. “Don’t they trust you? Seems funny they wouldn’t, you being one of them and all.”
Marietta frowned. “Sometimes Harvey seems so vague, even mysterious. There’s other people who think he leaves them out of important decisions too.”
“I see,” Napoleon said. “But you know, you can be vague as well. You never did say if you painted the picture in all the houses.”
Marietta wrung her hands, seeming to be debating with herself. At last she said, “No, I didn’t. Mary Apple was my sister.” She turned to face the stunned group. “She went missing years ago without a trace. When this community was first getting started, I was here and I saw that her painting was going up in every house. I thought that was strange and I wondered if the people running this community knew what happened to her. I still don’t know the answer to that.”
Not about to buy a hard-luck story so easily, Wye still looked suspicious. “So all of this ‘loyalty to the Council’ is just an act?” he said.
“No, not really,” Marietta sighed. “I’ve really grown fond of Peaceful Meadows and the Council. I haven’t found any indication that they know anything about my sister. They probably don’t. They probably just saw her painting in some museum somewhere, liked it, and bought it on a whim.”
“And had someone make many copies of it,” Napoleon remarked.
“If Mary Apple is your sister, why are you using such a similar name?” Illya wanted to know. “Is that on purpose?”
“Yes,” Marietta nodded. “My real name is Rebecca. I thought if I introduced myself as Marietta Crabtree, maybe someone who knew something about my sister would connect the dots and come to me.”
“A daring and dangerous plan,” Napoleon noted.
Jennifer looked at Marietta with new respect. She clearly did believe the tale. “I’m so sorry about your sister,” she said quietly. “But if you’ve decided that no one here knows about her, why stay? It’s time to move on and look somewhere else.”
“I don’t know where to look,” Marietta sighed. “I asked Harvey once where he bought the painting, but he was vague and said something about finding it at some art exhibit in Greenwich Village. I couldn’t really imagine Mary being there, but I went and looked more than once, and even brought a copy of the painting to show the people there. If anyone remembered it, they didn’t volunteer any information.”
“And it’s possible they remembered,” Illya said. “They’re a very close-lipped community.”
“Still, I think they would help a worried sister, if they came to believe the story was real and not made-up,” Napoleon said.
Marietta looked even more worried at that. “So then if Harvey was lying about where he got the painting, maybe he really does know something!” she exclaimed.
“Have you ever even asked him about your sister?” Jennifer asked, folding her arms.
“Yes, but he showed no sign of recognition, except when I said she’d painted that picture.” Marietta sighed. “I believed him.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have,” Jennifer said passionately. “Maybe it’s time you have it out with him and demand the truth.”
“I wouldn’t say demandin’ the truth has got us much of anywhere,” Wye grunted. “We’re still just as stuck on the Martin Jensen case as we were before you showed up.”
“Do you have a picture of your sister?” Napoleon asked Marietta, suddenly curious.
Marietta blinked, surprised by the query. “Why, yes,” she admitted. “I have a small one in my wallet.” She crossed the room to a small telephone desk and opened her purse. Taking out her wallet, she opened it and flipped to a particular picture of two young women.
Napoleon nodded, eyeing the shot of the sisters appreciatively. Shooting him a look, Illya glanced at it as well.
“You still look like yourself, but it’s hard to say whether your sister still resembles this photograph,” Illya said. “You don’t have anything more recent?”
Marietta shook her head. “She disappeared shortly after this was taken.”
Ecks also came over, Wye in tow, both curious about the mysterious sister. But as soon as Ecks saw the picture, he stiffened.
“What is it?” Illya frowned, regarding him in bewilderment.
Wye answered for him. “Cor blimey,” he exclaimed in disbelief. “The sister is Agent Cue!”
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Date: 2015-07-10 12:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-07-10 12:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-07-10 12:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-07-10 12:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-07-10 05:52 pm (UTC)I like the crack about making up a rule to get rid of them.
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Date: 2015-07-11 12:18 am (UTC)LOL.
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Date: 2015-07-17 06:18 pm (UTC)I really enjoy this story!
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Date: 2015-07-17 08:36 pm (UTC)