The Mysteries of Armand Dupuis #39
THE CASE OF THE BAREFOOTED MURDERESS
by Miss Briar Gasdsen
Finale and Epilogues
Early Friday Evening
Yorgenson was settling down to his work supper in his space by the Olympia’s backstage door. He knew he better eat the cheese sandwich now as things were likely to get hectic for the night’s performance. It was the play’s one hundredth performance and management had brought back many of the glittering original cast. The audience was going to be full, full with many of the City’s rich and famous. He had even been told there would be a police presence for added security.
The old man had just taken his third bite when the knocking came. Muttering a curse in his native tongue, he wiped the mustard from his mouth and went to the door. His anger faded when he saw it was Miss Gasdsen, accompanied by four lovely ladies. All wore long black capes fastened at the throat, their hair covered by attached hoods. Most strange was that all, including Briar, wore nothing on their feet.
”Sven........So glad to see you again, darling.....it’s been ages, has it not?” Briar’s voice dripped with her famous charm.
”Ah...Miss Gasdsen.......hello.......no one said nothing about you.........”
”I know, Sven.....it’s utterly delicious. As part of the night’s celebration, I’m going to do a bit of cameo performance after the encore.......me and these lovely dancers. Can you imagine the surprise on Andre’s face when we come on stage?”
”Sure, sure. Miss Gasdsen. He’s always saying you should be back on stage. I.....I mean we miss you terrible. It’s just nobody told me nothing about this and.....”
”And of course they wouldn’t...would they? It’s a surprise, silly.....and it has to stay secret. I can trust you to keep it quiet....can’t I, Sven?”
Yorgenson was in a quandary. What she was asking seemed very unusual. But of all the leading ladies he knew, Briar had always treated him the best. Once, when Helga was ill, Briar had arranged the best medical care. Like most males in her orbit, he had always been a tad bewitched by her. He made up his mind.
”Where’s my manners.....you and the other ladies come on in....Old Sven.....He knows where to hide you all.” He was surprised to see that two men had joined the ladies. One was a portly gentleman the other tall with fierce red mutton chops.
”Oh...Sven.......this is my friend Armand......and our piano accompanist Ernesto. They’re with us.”
There was a pause, then Yorgenson smiled,
“Then they come in too, Miss Gasdsen”. He smiled and showed them to an unused prop room.
Kathleen stood still as a statue in the dark recess of the dusty prop room, just as the Doctor had commanded. She heard the door creak open, and then the Master and the Doctor speaking.
“The girls all in position, Anton?”
”Yes...well Count....I don’t understand why their sacrifice is necessary.....”
”You’re a sentimental fool Anton. After Briar fulfills tonight’s task, we’ll need a distraction so we can make our escape. Four women randomly firing pistols into the crowd then their pretty empty heads will be quite the distraction. Four dead slaves versus our freedom, it’s a small enough sacrifice.”
”At least we didn’t have to kill the old man, like those poor guards at the museum.”
”Anton....from where does this annoying morality spring? Enough. You’ll do as I say if you wish continued life. Not to mention your lovely wife’s.
“Yes, Count....I understand what I must do.”
There was a long pause, then Kathleen heard the Count.
“Good. I go now to put Miss Gasdsen in position, then assume my seat. After all, I don’t wish to miss a moment of tonight’s show.”
Kathleen heard the door close. Then, Dorvak and Lorna stood before her. The Doctor held a music box. The beautiful tune filled her mind, then she heard his voice.
”Are you with me Kathleen?”
”Yes Doctor, I am with you and I am your barefooted servant.”
”Did you hear your Master, just now?
”Yes........it was......confusing........but I heard.......he wants us to kill people.......ourselves.....I don’t.....”
Tears were beginning to roll down her cheeks.
”Kathleen...you must believe your Master. What he says is the truth, is it not?”
She paused, then said: “Yes,”
Anton stared into her eyes.
”Then you must accept that, against your will, he’s turned you into a murderer....and will have you kill yourself. The darts at the museum were not coated in sedative, the bullets in your guns are not blanks.”
Kathleen’s body was shaking. “I’m a murderer....what am I to do, Doctor Dorvak....please...please tell me what am I to do?”
”You must make amends. Go find the handsome police detective...Sanderson is his name....find him. Tell him about what your sisters are going to do and take him to them. Now go......go..l”
Kathleen, looking determined, brushed past Dorvak. The Doctor followed her out. Lorna was waiting patiently by the door. She looked confused.
”Kathleen...why are you still here? The Master......”. Her words stopped when she heard the music box.
”Are you with me, Lorna?”
”Yes, Dear Husband, I am with you and I am you barefooted servant.”
Dorvak briefly examined her face.
”Good....Good.” He hurriedly handed the music box to Kathleen. “Show Sanderson how to assume control over your sisters. Now, be gone.” He turned his entranced wife. “You come with me, Darling. We must move quickly if we hope to be free of the madman.....our only hope for any deal with the authorities demands we save the man.”
”Anything you say, Dear Heart.” Lorna’a face and voice were perfectly placid.
Andre Legrande, the theater manager, strolled in front of the heavy curtains as the audience quieted.
”Ladies and Gentleman, on behalf of the company and all of us here at Olympia, we thank you for joining us for this gala 100th performance of “The Bride From Brighton”.
There was applause then the manager went on and introduced various luminaries in the audience. He saved for last the occupant of the VIP box. The famous politician with his toothy smile and trademark pince nez eyeglasses, stood and basked in the attention. His wife, Edith, simply waved a gloved hand while staying seated.
A few noticed a man with fierce red mutton chops cheered louder than his neighbors.
The box door slowly opened as the crowd roared in laughter to the leading lady’s riposte. Briar carefully stepped over the convulsing cop, a dart sticking from his neck. She entered the box, her bare feet silent on the carpet. Slowly, she raised her small pistol, aiming it at the back of the target’s head. She thought how sloppy the villain was getting. The Doppelgänger looked nothing like her friend Mr. Roosevelt up close. She crept closer to get a certain shot.
“Hello, Briar. I must say, you’re oddly cast as John Wilkes Booth.”
The familiar voice, then the music box rendition of “Fur Elise”, stopped Briar in her tracks and she lowered the pistol.
“Armand...I.....I don’t understand.....I have to kill the Theodore doppelgänger so we can be together......I must obey.....for our love.”
Dupuis stood and removed the fake teeth and glasses. He left the music box on the seat. Her eyes kept darting from him to the music box.
”Briar....listen to the music.....you’re now under my influence.”
Briar shook her head, then spoke, her voice forceful.
”Why do you speak so oddly, my love. Are you another of the Count’s Doppelgängers?” She again raised the pistol.
The door opened, and Dorvak entered, pistol in hand, his wife trailing behind him. Briar turned and looked at him, her eyes wild. “Armand.....this is impossible. You both can’t be Armand...you.....you.” She kept shifting her gaze between the two men in panicked confusion.
Dorvak, keeping his voice steady, said: “Briar, are you with me?”
Dupuis looked in amazement as the panic drained from her face as she fell under Dorvak’s spell.
”Yes....I am with you, Armand, and I am your barefooted servant.”
”Go stand outside the door. Lorna, take her and await me.”
”Yes, Husband.” Lorna took Briar by the arm, and they exited from the box.
Dorvak lowered his gun.
”Thank Providence I was in time. Dupuis......I can help you save your woman and the others....capture the Count. But you must assure me that Lorna and I........”
The gun shot was loud and sharp. Dorvak fell, revealing Lorna, a smoking pistol in her hand. There was a pause, then a piercing scream came from the audience below the box. The rustling of the crowd grew into a rumble.
”Husband.....forgive me. The Master explained that you are the victim of a nervous vexation and that has confused you....making you betray him. Worry not, I have shot you with a curative.”
Dupuis was staring at the growing pool of blood when his seated companion jumped up in a blur of motion. Despite the lady’s clothing, Wei Fang easily kicked the pistol from her hand.
Dupuis looked at the barefoot woman, and tried to remember Dorvak’s words from a moment ago. “Lorna....are you with me?”
Lorna stared at him in confusion. Then her face grew blank.
”Yes....Mr. Dupuis...I am with you and I am your barefooted servant.”
”You’re a nurse, tend to your husband’s wound.”
”Yes, sir.” She knelt and began applying pressure to both the entry and exit wounds. “Dear Heart...Darling....someone has shot you.”
Armand looked at Wei Fang, who had removed the dress, revealing his black silk.. “Bring Briar back in here.” The Assassin quickly left. After a moment, he stuck his head into the box. “She’s gone.....I’ll go look for her.
Dupuis turned to Lorna who was tearing strips from her cape. “Where is she?”
”I sent her to the Master, of course.”
“The Dark Count........he’s here? Where is he?”
Lorna remained silent.
Dupuis heard Dorvak murmur something. He knelt and gently raised Dorvak’s head. The hypnotist’s face had a deathly pallor. He whispered,“Red mutton chops.....”, then died.
Dupus jumped up and went the edge of the box. He looked down at tumult and scanned the panicked crowd. Then, he saw the tall crimson haired figure making his way to the theater exit. Dupuis was certain it was his enemy. He knew what he had to do. He would put an end to the Dark Count or die trying. Nothing else mattered. Without hesitation he jumped from the box and grabbed the Stage Left Curtain. He caught it and slid fast downward. He jumped onto a first row seat, and began leaping and running over seat armrests towards where he last saw his quarry. Soon he made out the red hair.
As if alerted by some psychic sense, the Count whirled around and saw him. He pulled a pistol and aimed it at Dupuis, but the panicked throng swirled around him blocking his aim. He started pushing people out his away, literally throwing them to the side. Doing so, his pistol went flying into the side. Cursing, he grew even more violent in his attempts to force his way through. But the exit doors were acting like a dam on the flowing crowd, making the way nearly impossible to penetrate. Armand closed within ten yards, and pulled his revolver. The crowd saw his gun and scattered, leaving an empty space around hunter and quarry.
“Halt, Count...or I’ll gladly put a bullet in your head!”
The villain stopped, looking around for a woman to grab for a shield. Failing, he turned and glared at Armand and slowly raised his hands.
Armand smiled in triumph, then Wei Fang’s voice came from the VIP Box:
“Dupuis....Look...Center Stage!” A chair then crashed on Wei Fang’s head, and he disappeared.
Armand gave a sidelong glance and was horrified to see Briar center stage, holding a pistol to her head. He then saw Singh stealthily coming from Stage Left.
The crowd hushed, and Briar’s voice could be heard.
”94.....93.....92.....91....”
Armand had no doubt what she would do when she reached zero. Enraged, he looked back at the Count. Through his mask, the villain malevolently smiled, and ironically shrugged his broad shoulders.
Armand screamed in frustration. He determinedly held the pistol on the Count. But then he heard her voice.
”87......86....85.......84......”
Armand cursed and whirled around, and began to make his way back to the stage. He realized he felt the music box in his pocket but knew she wouldn’t hear it from such a distance.
Then he saw possible salvation sitting next to Singh on the stage. He prayed it was not just set decoration.
”Singh.........the piano!”
”63, 62, 61,.....”
Singh looked at Dupuis in confusion. Then he understood. He sat on the piano bench and closed his eyes. For a moment, he was eleven again, his father the Prince showing him off to the British Raj with the Palace’s grand piano. Singh opened his eyes and cracked his giant knuckles. He then began playing. Haltingly at first, and missing the occasional note. But eventually the gorgeous tune came back to him.
He was performing a passable rendition of “Fur Elise”.
At first, Briar stayed on the task her Master had set for her.
”49....48.....47.....”
But the music was so beautiful....so compelling.....
”46......46.............”
Armand had made it to the stage. Slowly he approached Briar, his long arms open to her.
”Briar.......are you with me?”
”45...Yes, Darling.......I am with you...and I am your barefooted servant....44....43...”
”You can stop your counting, and hand Singh the revolver.” The giant stopped playing and started to move closer.
”Yes, Armand. Hello, Singh.....so good to see you.” She handed the Sikh the pistol.
Armand joined them center stage. “Listen carefully, Briar. You’re free now...free to do as you wish.”
At these words, her face flushed and the entranced blankness of her beautiful blue eyes turned into a hungry fire. She smiled, and padded towards him. Before Armand could give her a new command, she threw herself at him and began kissing him on the mouth. As she ground her body against his, he felt her breasts through her silk blouse.
Singh looked away in embarrassment. Finally, Armand was able to free his mouth.
Briar.....wake up....wake up now.”
Briar blinked rapidly.
”Armand....what has happened...where am I......”. She pushed back from him and looked at what she was wearing. She felt the course wood of the stage and realized she was unshod. Briar was especially shocked to see the outlines of her erect nipples. She turned and saw policemen and members of the audience staring at her.
Briar screamed, and fell unconscious to the stage
Three days later
Dr. Bronstein met Dupuis at the Bellevue”s front entrance.
”She’s awake, Armand.....but you must tread carefully. Physically she is fine......but I feel psychically and emotionally, she has a long recovery ahead of her.” They reached her private room and entered.
She looked so small and fragile under the sheets in the hospital bed. Her back was turned towards them. Armand at first thought she was asleep, but then realized she was staring out a window. Singh looked at Armand sadly, and gripped the detective’s shoulder. Then, he and the doctor left the two alone. After an uncomfortable silence, he spoke.
“Well, Briar.....I am happy to see you are improving. I’ve been researching hypnotism and...”
”I was your sacrificial lamb...wasn’t I, Armand? Sacrificed to solve your case.” Her voice was dead.
”Now, Briar.....that is unfair...I never knew......”
”You knew perfectly well, sir. You knew I would take your challenge to heart, and would attempt to face Dorvak. You knew my ego would drive me to test my will against his. Worse of all......”, she began to sob, “you knew I would fail. I’d lose my mind....my soul...reduced to a submissive automaton.....all so you could capture the villain.
Dupuis hung his head. “There was no choice.....the only way to get the Count to reveal himself and his plans was to let him believe you were his. I couldn’t tell you....you wouldn’t be able to resist his hypnotic interrogation.”
”Oh yes.....I’m sure you see it as a fair trade.....,a chance to triumphantly solve the case....all it cost was the violation of my mind...my public humiliation.......and the baring of my deepest desires. My love for you turned into something so ugly.”
”Briar......I have always been honest with you about how...hard it is for me to express myself......I assure you it’s no reflection of the depth of my....”
She suddenly sat up and turned towards him. The tears were now streaming down her face.
”You want know the worst of it...I long to be back in that hypnotic state. At least there I believed there was an Armand Dupuis who actually loved me.
”Briar.....time heals everything....we just need a new case to...”
She closed her eyes and slowly shook her head.
”Go away Armand. It’s too painful to be near you now..”
A million words filled his brain. What was she saying? He suddenly realized he couldn’t imagine life without her. He tried to articulate his feelings for her, but just couldn’t form the sentences. He then realized he had the music box in his pocket.
He was halfway to reaching it when he realized the wrongness of the thought. Then he realized all the wrongs he had done to her over the years.
Without further words, he left. As he walked the hallway, he saw Sanderson coming around the corner, a large bouquet in hand.
”I heard she’s finally awake......is she seeing visitors?”
”She’s all yours, Sanderson.” He walked around the policeman and headed to the elevator.
Late August
Armand smelled the sea air and looked at the cottage. It had been the Gasdsen summer home in Briar’s youth. When she began receiving the royalty payments for her writing, buying it back had been her first major purchase.
Nervously, he knocked on the door. Singh opened the door, smiled, and hugged Armand. He laughed silently at Dupuis stiff, awkward reaction.
”Yes....Em...Singh...good to see you as well....Ummm...is Briar.....Miss Gasdsen about....I came as soon as I received the telegram.”
Singh smiled even more broadly and pointed to a break in the sea wall that led to the beach. Armand headed that way, but Singh remained by the door. Dupuis took the wooden steps to the beach. At the bottom, he found a pair of lady’s shoes and stockings. Then he saw her, standing at the edge of the surf.
Briar wore a long white dress, her long blonde hair flowing down her bare shoulders. Despite himself, he was reminded of Botticelli’s Venus. She then saw him and began walking towards the steps.
They met halfway. His words flooded out of his mouth.
”Briar.....I am so very sorry...you mean the world to me.....”
She smiled and gently put her finger on his lips.
”Armand.......Detective Sanderson......Singh....they told me. You could have captured the Count.....but you saved me instead. They told me soon after I made you leave, but I needed time to take it all in. Then I realized.... You’ve learned...saving the victim is more important than solving the case.”
”Yes....especially when the victim is you.”
At that, Briar took his hand, and they walked down the beach.
Sydney, February 1896
Jocko Oldman banged on the brothel door again. He didn’t get to Sydney that often, and Mrs. Barrington’s House was the main reason he came to town.
“C’mon, Tilly, open up!”
Finally, he heard the thump of footsteps, and the door came open. Tilly Barrington was clad in a faded dressing robe and was barefooted. This shocked Jocko. The beautiful, busty redhead kept the swankiest house in New South Wales, and enforced strict decorum amongst both her girls and her clientele. He quickly recovered.
”Look, Tilly....I heard you’re down refurbishing the premises....but I was hoping for an hour or two with Delilah or maybe Violet....or any sheila you got about.....I can pay extra for the trouble....”
Tilly looked blankly at him. Normally, she would have broke her back accommodating the man....he owned the largest sheep stations in the territory and had become even richer in railroads. But today, she only wanted him to leave.
”I am sorry, Mr. Oldman. We are indeed in the midst of redecoration, and I have presently have none of my girls on premises.”
Jocko stared at her pale, creamy cleavage. “Well then...how about a poke....for old times sake......you always said I was your favorite.”
“I am sorry, Mr. Oldman.....as inviting a thought that is, I must decline. Do come back for our grand re-opening in the near future.”
Without another word, she closed the door and bolted it. She could still hear Jocko’s curses as she padded back to the sitting room where his voice was finally covered by the piano music coming from the Victrola. Twenty young beauties sat, their feet in white basins. Most were her employees, a few were recent recruits from the streets and markets of the city. They all were dressed in undergarments.
Her dressing gown laid where she had dropped it, at the entrance to the sitting room.
”You did well, Sister Tilly. We can brook no interruption to our Master’s lessons. He will be here soon....and he has much for us to do.” Her mistress had an upper class London accent.
Tilly sat and returned her feet to her basin. She felt the pleasure of the warm water on her feet and her mistress’s compliments.
”Thank you, Sister Lorna. I am your barefooted servant.”
”Indeed, Sister Tilly.” Lorna looked around the room and smiled. She had learned so much and had achieved all the Master had commanded.
She could not help but think her late husband, Dr. Anton Dorvak, would have been so very proud of her.