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Chapter or Story
Legal disclaimer and distribution notice in Part 1
Copyright 2000 by R. Franke
Author’s Note: This is a repost to correct some problems with the original version.
LAVENDER
Part III
by R. Franke
"Hello, Daddy."
Mr. Parker gasped in shock. "Angel!"
"But you’re dead," screeched Brigitte, a horrified look on her face. "We saw your body. You’d been autopsied."
Miss Parker sat in the empty chair at the foot of the conference table. The two sweepers stood awkwardly behind her, just inside the doorway. "To quote Mark Twain, ‘reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.’ As for the rest, well, this is the Centre, and you can’t always believe what you see."
Lyle snapped his fingers. "Blowfish toxin."
"Lyle, I’m impressed." Miss Parker smiled. "Would you care to enlighten the others?"
"Witch doctors," Lyle explained through gritted teeth, "dose their victims with blowfish toxin, giving them the appearance of death. The victims are buried, then dug up again. They believe themselves to be zombies, under the control of the witch doctor. A derivative is used to sedate patients receiving transplants of major organs, such as a heart. It is difficult, even with modern instruments, to detect that the patient is still alive."
"And," Sydney broke in, a smile on his face, "it smells remarkably similar to lavender."
"Yes, it does," Miss Parker replied. "Point of order, Mr. Chairman. A motion has been made and seconded."
"That hardly-" Mr. Parker began.
"Made and seconded, Mr. Chairman," she repeated firmly. "And a motion of no confidence requires a roll call vote."
Mr. Parker nodded. "Very well. Each shareholder has the number of votes equivalent to the number of shares of Centre stock they control. A yes vote is to approve the motion of no confidence in my performance as Centre Chairman, and calls for my immediate removal. Brigitte?"
"One hundred votes. No," she replied.
"Lyle?"
"One hundred and forty-seven shares. No."
"Mrs. Thaumassiere?"
"Ten votes. Yes."
"Raines?"
"Eight hundred sixty-nine shares. No."
"Mr. Frymark?"
"One vote. Yes."
"Mr. Wagenfueher?"
"Three votes. Yes."
"Sydney?" Sydney sat in silence, studying Miss Parker. She raised an enquiring eyebrow.
"Sydney?" repeated Mr. Parker. "Your vote?"
"Eleven hundred forty-two votes. Yes," he said, still watching Miss Parker. Her shoulders may have slumped a fraction in relief, but her expression did not change.
"Mrs. Meehan?" continued Mr. Parker.
"Two votes. Yes."
"Mr. Broots?"
"Nine hundre-"
"No," Miss Parker interrupted. She tossed an official looking document onto the conference table. "This is a summary judgement from the Delaware Court of Chancery declaring my death certificate to have been issued in error. My Centre shares are still mine, unless you’d care to protest, Broots?"
"Uh, no, no, not at all," Broots replied.
Miss Parker smiled thinly. "I didn’t think so. Oh, and Broots, you do still have your six shares from the employee bonus plan." She turned to Sam and Nicole. "Sam you have five, Nicole, one." She turned back to Broots. "We’re waiting."
"Oh. Um. Six votes. Yes." Broots said. "God, I hope yes," he muttered.
"And you, Mrs. Dahle?" Mr. Parker continued.
"Seven votes. Yes."
"Mr. Wothke?"
"Four votes. Yes."
"Miss Wallace?"
"Six votes, yes."
Mr. Parker paused. "Angel?" His voice may have held a faintly pleading note.
"Nine hundred twelve shares. Yes" she replied firmly.
Mr. Parker looked past his daughter. "Sam?"
The sweeper moved away from the door to stand behind Miss Parker. " Five votes. Yes."
"Nicole?"
Nicole hesitated.
"This disloyalty," Brigitte glared at Sam, "will be punished."
"Loyalty," he replied, "flows downwards as well as upwards."
"Yes," stated Nicole, moving to stand next to Sam. "I hope you’re right, jarhead," she muttered sotto voce.
"Trust me, squid," he murmured in reply. "She’ll take care of us."
"The Chair votes no, both as an individual with seven hundred and fifty-eight votes and as controller of the remaining six hundred and twenty-four employee shareholders proxy votes. The motion is defeated, two thousand, four hundred ninety-eight votes to two thousand and ninety-nine. Lyle?"
Lyle and Brigitte shared a smile of triumph as Miss Parker’s allies slumped in defeat. "Emotions seem to be running a little high right now," Lyle said. "Why don’t we knock off for now and come back say, this time tomorrow? Move to adjourn."
"Second," called Brigitte.
"Christ, Parker, what were you thinking?" Jarod muttered as he eeled backwards into a large open area where several ducts intersected. "I knew I should have updated the plan as soon as I suspected she was still alive," he told Angelo. "First, I need you to-"
"No," Angelo shook his head. "Miss Parker say Jarod no rescue. Just watch. Has plan. No Lyle. No Tower. Jarod free. Angelo help." With that Angelo tu rned and scuttled off down another duct.
"Well, Miss Parker, I hope you know what you’re doing," Jarod muttered as he headed back to his observation point. "Screw this up and we’re all dead."
"Point of order, Mr. Chairman," Miss Parker said calmly. "Under Article VII, Section 12, Paragraph iv, subsection c of the Centre’s bylaws, as amended, in the event of a roll call vote all proxy votes are to be considered as automatic abstentions, unless accompanied by a signed, notarized statement of intent for that particular vote. You may wish to reconsider your count."
"The motion," Mr. Parker paused, and swallowed heavily, "The motion," he began again, "carries, on a vote of two thousand and ninety-nine to one thousand, eight hundred seventy-four, with six hundred and twenty-four abstentions." Lyle and Brigitte looked at him in shock. "As my last act as Chairman, I open the floor to nominations for my successor."
"I nominate Miss Parker," Broots said.
"Second," Mrs. Thaumassiere replied firmly.
"I nominate Lyle," Brigitte called.
Miss Parker raised an enquiring eyebrow at her brother. "Are you sure you want to do this? You haven’t exactly made friends with the rank and file."
Lyle snorted. "It seems your death has affected your mind, Parker. It doesn’t matter if they like me or not, so long as they respect me."
"Friends was a poor choice of words," Miss Parker admitted. "You’re right, it doesn’t matter if you’re liked or not, so long as you’re respected." She smiled slightly. "But the thing is, brother dear, they don’t respect you. They fear you. And given a choice between the Chairman’s legitimate daughter and his bastard son, who do you think they’ll pick?" She paused, then added, "Unless of course you would care to explain the real story publicly? It makes no difference to me."
Lyle looked at Miss Parker, and at the sweepers flanking her like guards beside a throne. "Withdraw the nomination," he ordered.
"Withdraw? Are you insane?" protested Brigitte.
"Withdraw it!" he snapped.
Brigitte whirled. "Madame Director-"
"This is an internal Centre matter," the Director interrupted. "It is not in the best interests of the Tower to interfere at this time."
"I must respectfully disagree, Madame Director," Mutumbo said. "Miss Parker’s accession to the Chairmanship is most definitely not in the best interests of the Triumvirate."
"Your protest is noted," the Director replied evenly. "My decision, however, stands."
"A decision of this magnitude can only be decided by the Triumvirate itself," Mutumbo rumbled. "As their representative I-"
"You overstep yourself, Auditor," the Director snapped. She paused and took a deep breath. "As Director of North American operations the decision is mine. You may file a protest with the Triumvirate if you wish."
"I intend to," replied Mutumbo.
The Director turned towards Mr. Parker. "Tower North America will accept Miss Parker as Chairman of the Centre, subject to the approval of the Triumvirate."
Mr. Parker nodded in reply. "Are there any other nominations?" he asked. "Seeing none, all those in favor of my daughter as Chairman? Opposed?" Mr. Parker stood, and with grave courtesy offered the Chairman’s seat to his daughter. "Angel?"
"Thank you," Miss Parker replied, settling into the chair. "And Daddy?" she continued softly as he turned away, "I’m sorry I had to do things this way." Mr. Parker’s only reply was a brief, one-sided smile as he sat in an empty chair. "There is a motion for adjournment before this body," Miss Parker spoke. "All those in favor? Opposed? We are adjourned until 10 am tomorrow
morning."
"You may have won this round, Parker," Lyle murmured under the noise of the others preparing to leave, "but the Triumvirate will remember who was finally able to bring in Jarod. Don’t get too comfortable."
"Thank you for reminding me. Angelo!" called Miss Parker. Angelo opened the door and walked in. "Mr. Lyle requires an explanation."
"Miss Parker say lead Lyle to Jarod, but make Lyle think it Lyle’s plan." He glanced nervously at the door. "Find Jarod for Lyle when Miss Parker s ay find Jarod." He glanced again at the door. "Have to go. Now." He left the conference room, practically running out the door.
"Game, set, and match, brother dear." She turned to Mutumbo. "You’ve seen how the Centre fared under Lyle. All I’m asking the Triumvirate for is an equal chance. Give me two years, and I guarantee the Centre will be making a profit again."
"I must admit I am intrigued, Miss Parker," Mutumbo replied. "The question is, what do you plan to do about Jarod?"
"The entire plan for recovering Jarod was flawed from the outset. Jarod has been out in the world for too long. We can’t stuff the genie back in the bottle." Miss Parker paused, and took a deep breath. "Instead, I intend to hire him."
Sydney was the first to find his voice. "Parker, are you insane? Jarod would never agree-"
"Not for my father," interrupted Miss Parker, "and not for Lyle, or for Raines. But for you, me, and Broots? He might consider it."
"It has," rasped Raines, "possibilities." He spread his hands at Miss Parker’s astonished look. "I am, a practical man, Madame Chairman."
"And I," Miss Parker smiled slightly, "hate suck-ups."
The door to the conference room burst open, and a group of armed figures swarmed in. "Federal Agents! Everybody on the floor! Hands where I can see them! On the floor! Now!" Almost everyone in the room obeyed, overwhelmed by the suddenness of the assault. The two sweepers were careful to keep their hands well away from their bodies as they were searched for weapons. "All clear," an agent called as the last person was frisked.
Mrs. Thaumassiere and the others stood in a tight group by the door. "I am sorry, my dear," she said to Miss Parker. "But after you visited I received another visit from a nice young man named Jarod. He explained to me exactly what the Centre was. I spoke with the others and we decided to take what we knew to the proper authorities." The others nodded in confirmation.
"Goddamn it," Miss Parker ground out, rising to her knees. "I swear-"
"Just give me an excuse, bitch," an agent snarled, putting the barrel of her weapon against Parker’s temple.
"Kassebaum!" barked a man standing in the doorway. "Back off."
"Parker, please," begged Sydney. Miss Parker lay back down on the floor as Agent Kassebaum stepped away, still keeping her weapon trained on Miss Parker. Miss Parker slowly looked Kassebaum up and down, her expression murderous.
"I am Assistant Director Garrigan," the man in the doorway spoke again. "And it is my distinct pleasure to inform you that you are all under arrest."
"On what grounds?" challenged Lyle.
"Robert Bowman," said Garrigan, "alias Robert Lyle, and various and sundry other aliases. For now, you are under arrest for murder, conspiracy to commit murder, kidnapping, extortion, fraud, unlawful flight to avoid prosecution, bribery, barratry, and tax evasion. I’m sure we’ll find more once we do a little digging." He looked around. "Anybody else? No? Start cuffing them." He smiled. "Listen up. You, all of you, have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used…"
Jarod grasped Angelo by the shoulders. "Exactly how did Miss Parker come up with this plan?"
Angelo smiled. "We talk. Tell her your plan."
Jarod sighed in frustration. "Not everything I told you was accurate, Angelo."
Miss Parker had been placed next to her father in the paddy wagon. "Daddy," she asked, "tell me one thing. What were the twins?"
"I said, no talking," snapped the guard.
Mr. Parker looked levelly at him, then over at Brigitte and Lyle. He turned back to his daughter. "Redemption."
Comments and opinions are appreciated
Copyright 2000 by R. Franke
Author’s Note: This is a repost to correct some problems with the original version.
Part III
by R. Franke
"Hello, Daddy."
Mr. Parker gasped in shock. "Angel!"
"But you’re dead," screeched Brigitte, a horrified look on her face. "We saw your body. You’d been autopsied."
Miss Parker sat in the empty chair at the foot of the conference table. The two sweepers stood awkwardly behind her, just inside the doorway. "To quote Mark Twain, ‘reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.’ As for the rest, well, this is the Centre, and you can’t always believe what you see."
Lyle snapped his fingers. "Blowfish toxin."
"Lyle, I’m impressed." Miss Parker smiled. "Would you care to enlighten the others?"
"Witch doctors," Lyle explained through gritted teeth, "dose their victims with blowfish toxin, giving them the appearance of death. The victims are buried, then dug up again. They believe themselves to be zombies, under the control of the witch doctor. A derivative is used to sedate patients receiving transplants of major organs, such as a heart. It is difficult, even with modern instruments, to detect that the patient is still alive."
"And," Sydney broke in, a smile on his face, "it smells remarkably similar to lavender."
"Yes, it does," Miss Parker replied. "Point of order, Mr. Chairman. A motion has been made and seconded."
"That hardly-" Mr. Parker began.
"Made and seconded, Mr. Chairman," she repeated firmly. "And a motion of no confidence requires a roll call vote."
Mr. Parker nodded. "Very well. Each shareholder has the number of votes equivalent to the number of shares of Centre stock they control. A yes vote is to approve the motion of no confidence in my performance as Centre Chairman, and calls for my immediate removal. Brigitte?"
"One hundred votes. No," she replied.
"Lyle?"
"One hundred and forty-seven shares. No."
"Mrs. Thaumassiere?"
"Ten votes. Yes."
"Raines?"
"Eight hundred sixty-nine shares. No."
"Mr. Frymark?"
"One vote. Yes."
"Mr. Wagenfueher?"
"Three votes. Yes."
"Sydney?" Sydney sat in silence, studying Miss Parker. She raised an enquiring eyebrow.
"Sydney?" repeated Mr. Parker. "Your vote?"
"Eleven hundred forty-two votes. Yes," he said, still watching Miss Parker. Her shoulders may have slumped a fraction in relief, but her expression did not change.
"Mrs. Meehan?" continued Mr. Parker.
"Two votes. Yes."
"Mr. Broots?"
"Nine hundre-"
"No," Miss Parker interrupted. She tossed an official looking document onto the conference table. "This is a summary judgement from the Delaware Court of Chancery declaring my death certificate to have been issued in error. My Centre shares are still mine, unless you’d care to protest, Broots?"
"Uh, no, no, not at all," Broots replied.
Miss Parker smiled thinly. "I didn’t think so. Oh, and Broots, you do still have your six shares from the employee bonus plan." She turned to Sam and Nicole. "Sam you have five, Nicole, one." She turned back to Broots. "We’re waiting."
"Oh. Um. Six votes. Yes." Broots said. "God, I hope yes," he muttered.
"And you, Mrs. Dahle?" Mr. Parker continued.
"Seven votes. Yes."
"Mr. Wothke?"
"Four votes. Yes."
"Miss Wallace?"
"Six votes, yes."
Mr. Parker paused. "Angel?" His voice may have held a faintly pleading note.
"Nine hundred twelve shares. Yes" she replied firmly.
Mr. Parker looked past his daughter. "Sam?"
The sweeper moved away from the door to stand behind Miss Parker. " Five votes. Yes."
"Nicole?"
Nicole hesitated.
"This disloyalty," Brigitte glared at Sam, "will be punished."
"Loyalty," he replied, "flows downwards as well as upwards."
"Yes," stated Nicole, moving to stand next to Sam. "I hope you’re right, jarhead," she muttered sotto voce.
"Trust me, squid," he murmured in reply. "She’ll take care of us."
"The Chair votes no, both as an individual with seven hundred and fifty-eight votes and as controller of the remaining six hundred and twenty-four employee shareholders proxy votes. The motion is defeated, two thousand, four hundred ninety-eight votes to two thousand and ninety-nine. Lyle?"
Lyle and Brigitte shared a smile of triumph as Miss Parker’s allies slumped in defeat. "Emotions seem to be running a little high right now," Lyle said. "Why don’t we knock off for now and come back say, this time tomorrow? Move to adjourn."
"Second," called Brigitte.
"Christ, Parker, what were you thinking?" Jarod muttered as he eeled backwards into a large open area where several ducts intersected. "I knew I should have updated the plan as soon as I suspected she was still alive," he told Angelo. "First, I need you to-"
"No," Angelo shook his head. "Miss Parker say Jarod no rescue. Just watch. Has plan. No Lyle. No Tower. Jarod free. Angelo help." With that Angelo tu rned and scuttled off down another duct.
"Well, Miss Parker, I hope you know what you’re doing," Jarod muttered as he headed back to his observation point. "Screw this up and we’re all dead."
"Point of order, Mr. Chairman," Miss Parker said calmly. "Under Article VII, Section 12, Paragraph iv, subsection c of the Centre’s bylaws, as amended, in the event of a roll call vote all proxy votes are to be considered as automatic abstentions, unless accompanied by a signed, notarized statement of intent for that particular vote. You may wish to reconsider your count."
"The motion," Mr. Parker paused, and swallowed heavily, "The motion," he began again, "carries, on a vote of two thousand and ninety-nine to one thousand, eight hundred seventy-four, with six hundred and twenty-four abstentions." Lyle and Brigitte looked at him in shock. "As my last act as Chairman, I open the floor to nominations for my successor."
"I nominate Miss Parker," Broots said.
"Second," Mrs. Thaumassiere replied firmly.
"I nominate Lyle," Brigitte called.
Miss Parker raised an enquiring eyebrow at her brother. "Are you sure you want to do this? You haven’t exactly made friends with the rank and file."
Lyle snorted. "It seems your death has affected your mind, Parker. It doesn’t matter if they like me or not, so long as they respect me."
"Friends was a poor choice of words," Miss Parker admitted. "You’re right, it doesn’t matter if you’re liked or not, so long as you’re respected." She smiled slightly. "But the thing is, brother dear, they don’t respect you. They fear you. And given a choice between the Chairman’s legitimate daughter and his bastard son, who do you think they’ll pick?" She paused, then added, "Unless of course you would care to explain the real story publicly? It makes no difference to me."
Lyle looked at Miss Parker, and at the sweepers flanking her like guards beside a throne. "Withdraw the nomination," he ordered.
"Withdraw? Are you insane?" protested Brigitte.
"Withdraw it!" he snapped.
Brigitte whirled. "Madame Director-"
"This is an internal Centre matter," the Director interrupted. "It is not in the best interests of the Tower to interfere at this time."
"I must respectfully disagree, Madame Director," Mutumbo said. "Miss Parker’s accession to the Chairmanship is most definitely not in the best interests of the Triumvirate."
"Your protest is noted," the Director replied evenly. "My decision, however, stands."
"A decision of this magnitude can only be decided by the Triumvirate itself," Mutumbo rumbled. "As their representative I-"
"You overstep yourself, Auditor," the Director snapped. She paused and took a deep breath. "As Director of North American operations the decision is mine. You may file a protest with the Triumvirate if you wish."
"I intend to," replied Mutumbo.
The Director turned towards Mr. Parker. "Tower North America will accept Miss Parker as Chairman of the Centre, subject to the approval of the Triumvirate."
Mr. Parker nodded in reply. "Are there any other nominations?" he asked. "Seeing none, all those in favor of my daughter as Chairman? Opposed?" Mr. Parker stood, and with grave courtesy offered the Chairman’s seat to his daughter. "Angel?"
"Thank you," Miss Parker replied, settling into the chair. "And Daddy?" she continued softly as he turned away, "I’m sorry I had to do things this way." Mr. Parker’s only reply was a brief, one-sided smile as he sat in an empty chair. "There is a motion for adjournment before this body," Miss Parker spoke. "All those in favor? Opposed? We are adjourned until 10 am tomorrow
morning."
"You may have won this round, Parker," Lyle murmured under the noise of the others preparing to leave, "but the Triumvirate will remember who was finally able to bring in Jarod. Don’t get too comfortable."
"Thank you for reminding me. Angelo!" called Miss Parker. Angelo opened the door and walked in. "Mr. Lyle requires an explanation."
"Miss Parker say lead Lyle to Jarod, but make Lyle think it Lyle’s plan." He glanced nervously at the door. "Find Jarod for Lyle when Miss Parker s ay find Jarod." He glanced again at the door. "Have to go. Now." He left the conference room, practically running out the door.
"Game, set, and match, brother dear." She turned to Mutumbo. "You’ve seen how the Centre fared under Lyle. All I’m asking the Triumvirate for is an equal chance. Give me two years, and I guarantee the Centre will be making a profit again."
"I must admit I am intrigued, Miss Parker," Mutumbo replied. "The question is, what do you plan to do about Jarod?"
"The entire plan for recovering Jarod was flawed from the outset. Jarod has been out in the world for too long. We can’t stuff the genie back in the bottle." Miss Parker paused, and took a deep breath. "Instead, I intend to hire him."
Sydney was the first to find his voice. "Parker, are you insane? Jarod would never agree-"
"Not for my father," interrupted Miss Parker, "and not for Lyle, or for Raines. But for you, me, and Broots? He might consider it."
"It has," rasped Raines, "possibilities." He spread his hands at Miss Parker’s astonished look. "I am, a practical man, Madame Chairman."
"And I," Miss Parker smiled slightly, "hate suck-ups."
The door to the conference room burst open, and a group of armed figures swarmed in. "Federal Agents! Everybody on the floor! Hands where I can see them! On the floor! Now!" Almost everyone in the room obeyed, overwhelmed by the suddenness of the assault. The two sweepers were careful to keep their hands well away from their bodies as they were searched for weapons. "All clear," an agent called as the last person was frisked.
Mrs. Thaumassiere and the others stood in a tight group by the door. "I am sorry, my dear," she said to Miss Parker. "But after you visited I received another visit from a nice young man named Jarod. He explained to me exactly what the Centre was. I spoke with the others and we decided to take what we knew to the proper authorities." The others nodded in confirmation.
"Goddamn it," Miss Parker ground out, rising to her knees. "I swear-"
"Just give me an excuse, bitch," an agent snarled, putting the barrel of her weapon against Parker’s temple.
"Kassebaum!" barked a man standing in the doorway. "Back off."
"Parker, please," begged Sydney. Miss Parker lay back down on the floor as Agent Kassebaum stepped away, still keeping her weapon trained on Miss Parker. Miss Parker slowly looked Kassebaum up and down, her expression murderous.
"I am Assistant Director Garrigan," the man in the doorway spoke again. "And it is my distinct pleasure to inform you that you are all under arrest."
"On what grounds?" challenged Lyle.
"Robert Bowman," said Garrigan, "alias Robert Lyle, and various and sundry other aliases. For now, you are under arrest for murder, conspiracy to commit murder, kidnapping, extortion, fraud, unlawful flight to avoid prosecution, bribery, barratry, and tax evasion. I’m sure we’ll find more once we do a little digging." He looked around. "Anybody else? No? Start cuffing them." He smiled. "Listen up. You, all of you, have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used…"
Jarod grasped Angelo by the shoulders. "Exactly how did Miss Parker come up with this plan?"
Angelo smiled. "We talk. Tell her your plan."
Jarod sighed in frustration. "Not everything I told you was accurate, Angelo."
Miss Parker had been placed next to her father in the paddy wagon. "Daddy," she asked, "tell me one thing. What were the twins?"
"I said, no talking," snapped the guard.
Mr. Parker looked levelly at him, then over at Brigitte and Lyle. He turned back to his daughter. "Redemption."
Comments and opinions are appreciated
