Rear Window: Part 6
Rear Window: Part 6 the fall stories
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hyle
hyle Dahhling.... I am soo, soo soo... ermm?
Autoplay OFF   •   3 months ago
Dreaming of clowns, Hanne has another sleepless night

Rear Window: Part 6

After what seemed like an eternity, Hanne turned on her side in her bed to discover that the clock now read 03:39.. the last time she looked, ages ago, it had read 03:18. And the time before that, 03:03. It was no use trying to sleep. Too many questions vexed her mind.

Each time she tried to pull out a strand of thought it seemed that she was pulling at a thread of something that someone had given a bunch of kittens several balls of wool and told them 'Go make something out of that !'

How did a clown outfit become a way to 'get close' to Spivey and his brat' ? Ok so the dumpy guy. File number two. No name. Just Spud.. or Spudface.

Spudface and Anson. Definitely involved in something shady involving Joe Spivey, his daughter and... a clown? " A Fucking clown !?!" Hanne spoke it out loud, every time she shut her eyes all she could see was garish make-up and a big red nose.

No matter how hard she tried to get her thoughts past that fucking clown it reappeared and seemed to be laughing.. At her ! And where did Silja fit in to all this. How deeply was she involved?

Surely to whatever passed for a God's sake these days her sister was not involved in plotting to kidnap and extort money ! OK she was well aware Silja was a chancer. How in hell she made it to whatever age she is.. was..

Hanne closed her eyes, Silja was her older sister, by a damned long way. But that was counting the decades spent suspended somewhere in Life-net. The fact being Silja is a clone, forever young. And that was the fact. Hanne and Silja were worlds apart.

Hanne however was not. Hanne was a One-Lifer. Both spawned by the same father but in different worlds. Hanne reminded herself of that fact and tugged once more at the Silja thread of her tangled thoughts. Be professional.

Ok, so Silja was a known chancer, everybody knew that. Had she promoted herself to greater things? Infiltrating the richest family in Flagstaff to pull of a daring caper? She had some minerals to even think of that. To end up in Joe Spivey' s bad books was asking for a whole world of pain.

Well maybe not as much pain as ending up in the Ranyhyn's bad books...which she now was, if what Hanne had overheard from Anson was what she thought it was. Hanne screwed her eyes shut. " But she's my damned sister! " She found herself saying aloud in a voice which carried a lot of anguish.

But the evidence. Silja, not seen by her best friend Tuki for over a month, mainly because she now takes regular afternoon trysts with Anson, a known petty criminal, who somehow wants his Spudfaced accomplice to 'get close' to Joe Spivey dressed as a clown.

"Gahh that fucking clown again !" Hanne realised her fingertips had clenched and she was holding the bedsheet in some kind of deathgrip. Fat Eric had been right. Dwight Frye had extracted confirmation. Something was going down.

The Kjaer-Spivey's were the target and now Hanne had uncovered the prime suspects for whom the next procedural step for The Ranyhyn Company usually meant taking the suspects on a visit to the bridge.

Could she do that to her own little sister? There must be more to all of this, Hanne reasoned. She needed more evidence, and she needed it fast. Time was running out!

Dwight Frye sat at his desk stirring sugar into the tea filled bone china cup on his desk. He liked to be at work early. Next to the cup sat a plate with several biscuits.

He picked one and snapped it in half, pausing to brush a crumb from his neatly pressed grey waistcoat. He sipped the tea and surveyed his office. All was fine, everything was in order, not a file, folder or pile of documents out of place. He smiled, and took a small bite from the biscuit.

His early morning tea ritual, a welcome pause between the early arrival at work and the start of the working day was one of the things Dwight has always done, even when he worked at The Union Tax Office.

However, this morning the peaceful ritual was shattered by the somewhat hasty arrival his boss who burst through the door and swept across the room to her office, pausing only to bark out an instruction. "Dwight ! Come to my office a soon as you are ready. "

" Yes Miss Berg." Dwight dryed his tea and put the plate and cup onto a side table. Smoothing his waistcoat and sharply pressed trousers, he tapped on the door to Miss Berg's office.

He entered and softly closed the door behind him. Hanne Berg was already sitting behind the large desk. Four files arranged in a slight arc facing the visitor chair on the opposite side of the desk from Hanne. Hanne motioned for Dwight to take the seat.

" I need you to do a HIPS. An all day job." Dwight nodded. HIPS was the jargon The Ranyhyn Company used for 'Hiding in Plain Sight' which usually meant a disguise of some form. Dwight looked at Hanne.

He noticed her tired eyes were criss-crossed with lines of red. Her face lined with signs of stress. "May I ask why you ask me, and not one of the other chaps, Miss Berg ?"

Hanne looked directly at Dwight. Even though her eyes were tired, the fierce sky blue of her eyes still had the ability to penetrate. "This case is delicate, you are the one I can rely on for discretion."

Dwight nodded and felt the warm swell of pride he felt every time Miss Berg complimented him. Hanne indicated the four files

"These four, I need any information, gossip or sightings. I need you to observe anything regarding the Kjaer-Spivey's. I also want to know anything you can pick up about clowns. " "Clowns? " Dwight let slip a curious glance at his boss.

"Yes, clowns! Spend the day by the Pond in the Plaza then report to me this evening. Thank you." " Of course, Miss Berg." Dwight nodded and stood up " I will get prepared and let you know when I am leaving."

Dwight crossed to the door and closed it gently behind him with the merest click of the latch. Hanne watched his shadow move away before opening her purse. She took out the silver cigarette case and lit one, taking a long drag before popping a couple of her guarana pills.

It was going to be a long day. Thirty minutes later, Dwight tapped on her office door and entered, transformed. Hanne's face split into a huge admiring grin as before her stood the semblance of the worst tramp ever.

Dwight smiled from behind a straggling beard which seemed an integral part of the cascading tangle of filthy brown past-shoulder length hair. The smile was punctuated by several blacked out teeth which complimented the smears of dirt that ran over Dwight's face.

Beneath the hair was a filthy brown coat, holed and tattered in many places from which hung, supported by a length of twine, a complimenting pair of faded green pants.

Dwight stood in the doorway for a moment and then stepped inside a meter or so. He was carrying a vodka bottle and a gnarled walking stick. "Vodka?" "Water." Dwight nodded as he saw Hanne's obvious approval.

Hanne coughed. She was assailed by a sudden and pungent odour of stale piss. Dwight had clearly made his disguise as authentic as possible. As her eyes filled with tears from the strong smell she waved Dwight out

"Nice touch, very convincing .. " She coughed. "Thank you.. See you this evening." Hanne crossed to the window and threw it open. A smirk crossed her face. Dwight was so conscientious.

Hanne waited until she saw Tramp-Dwight shamble across to take his place on the parkbench by the pond. She pulled her chair up to the window, arranged her cigarettes and a bottle of water on the sill. Finally she raised the binoculars to her eyes and focussed on Dwight and the pond.

It was going to be a long day indeed. Hanne concentrated on the scene. She smiled as several times some mothers pulled their children, giving Dwight a wide berth.

She was not sure if it was the sight or the smell which urged caution. Or both. At one point a group of scruffy kids larked around near Dwight, pushing and shouting at each other. She surmised from their appearance they were orphanage kids or possibly some of Joe Spiveys 'workers'.

After a while one of the older kids decided it would be fun to taunt the derelict, egged on by some others in the group. She watched as pace by pace the boy neared Dwight.

With each step she watched boldness and caution interchange on the boy's face. Dwight for his part just stared straight ahead, ignoring the brat.

Finally the boy thought it a good idea to pick up a small stone and fling it at Dwight. The stone struck Dwight on the arm. Dwight turned and looked at the boy, coldly.

The boy made eye contact and froze as the deeply malevolent, cold sadistic glare in Dwight's eyes paralysed him for a few seconds. Poor kid almost shat himself there and then. That was enough.

The boy turned and legged it. The other kids, on seeing the derelict's glance followed suit almost as instantly. Hanne smirked. She had seen that stare often enough in the past, in all fairness it had an unsettling effect even on her.

Hanne's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden knocking on the office door. She started and felt the adrenaline rush.

She stubbed out her fifth cigarette and paused to take her revolver from the desk drawer before going to the door. She opened the door cautiously, the gun behind her back.

" Halloooo !" Came the camp falsetto greeting. She opened the door fully to reveal Fat Eric's rotund frame. " Miss Berg ! How nice to see you face to face after such a long time!"

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