On the other hand, could this young-appearing man be part of the same plot that was set in motion by those unnamed intelligence agencies so long ago, the ones bent on embarrassing him regarding the women, the same ones who might well be digging holes in his front lawn? Is Plaidman as young as he seems, or has his appearance been altered through cosmetic surgery — and actual cosmetics as well — to throw the Captain off his guard? Is the beard part of a disguise? Damage Control, he remembers they called it back in the days of tradecraft. Is the man an agent? Or, for that matter, suppose the man is the son of one of his old enemies, possibly the Swede, or the Ukrainian, who, disposed of long ago off Trieste, now seeks to avenge his father?
The Captain feels his Death Quotient rising again, and in a way, it feels good.
Episode One, The Burrow, Scene Eight
EVERYONE is gathered in the kitchen once again, but this time no one is sitting; no one is fidgeting. They stand in a rough circle around the kitchen table.
Madeline:
So here we are. Where do we start?
Jeffery:
Well, I’ve never been in a situation like this, but why don’t we all start looking for a secret door or passage. Okay, everybody start by checking the cabinets. Maybe one of them has a door or hallway behind it that leads to the outside world.
There is a flurry of door openings and closings, and often the same door is opened and shut two or three times, as people forget what’s been checked and what hasn’t. In the midst of all of this, RAYMOND stands unmoving.
Viktor:
Nothing. Not a thing.
RAYMOND walks absently to the stove and turns on the burners.
Viktor:
There won’t be anything there, for Christ’s sake. That’s a stove. Why are you turning on the stove? What the fuck are you doing, Duck Man? Have you lost your mind?
Madeline:
Duck Man? Is that what you think? You watch yourself, Viktor.
RAYMOND stands where he is and begins to open and close the oven door of the stove, as if listening for something. He repeats this several times.
Viktor:
For Christ’s sake.
Raymond:
There’s a draft.
Heather:
A what?
Raymond:
A draft. There’s a draft coming from the stove.
Jeffery:
Let’s see.
JEFFERY walks to the stove and feels above and below it. Then he puts his fingers to the side of the mirror above and behind the stove, and the mirror swings open, on hinges like a door’s, exposing a large hole in the wall behind it. The hole is about two feet high, and maybe three feet wide.
Jeffery:
Mystery solved.
Madeline:
So what do you want to do?
Jeffery:
What do you mean? I’d say we don’t have a choice. Obviously this tunnel, or whatever it is, leads somewhere. Even if we decide to come back, we’d better see where it goes before we figure out for sure if we’re trapped or not. This could be a dead end.
Viktor:
Maybe one of you should explore it.
Madeline:
What do you mean, “one of you”? I say we all stick together. It’s our only chance.
Viktor:
I meant one of
you.
Listen, I don’t need to explain myself to you, and I’m certainly not afraid, or anything like that. I just changed my mind, that’s all. I’m staying. Whatever you find out has nothing to do with me. I have my work to do; unlike the rest of you, I have a business to maintain.
VIKTOR begins to stuff his hands into his pockets, then thinks better of it.
Viktor:
You all can do what you want. I’m not going anywhere. That’s it. It’s final. I’m staying here.
Jeffery:
Suit yourself. Are you still in, Madeline?
MADELINE nods.
Jeffery:
I’ll lead, and the rest of you can follow one by one. Raymond, you go last, just in case anybody tries to stop us. See you around, Viktor.
Heather:
But suppose it’s dangerous? Suppose something happens?
Jeffery:
What could happen? Anyway, remember to prop the door open, and we can always come back here again.
Raymond:
Don’t worry, Heather. I’ll be right there behind you.
Meanwhile, it so happens that Junior’s old theatrical agent, a man of dubious character whom Junior hasn’t seen in years, has sent him a letter now resting in the young actor-turned-psycho’s mailbox, waiting to be read. In this letter his agent says that amazingly, against all odds, Mellow Valley has finally been picked up as a rerun in one of those ex-republics of the former Soviet Union. There will be translation issues, of course, he adds, but it’s a sign of how desperate for new material the networks are these days. In any case, Junior will be receiving at least a little money for this, minus, of course, the twenty percent that he, as Junior’s agent, will be taking. Oh, and beyond all these matters concerning business, he hopes Junior is well and prospering in whatever new career he’s found for himself. Yours truly, etc. etc.
But Junior isn’t near his mailbox, or even at home right now. He’s doing something else.
Reruns. That’s a good one. Ha ha ha.
Junior crouches behind the rosebush, watching the window of the luxurious home, practically a mansion he guesses you could call it. Soon it will be dark, and then. .