"OK, Quasi! I got the rope...Slide her down
easy...There!"
Phoebus, the ex-soldier turned caretaker, stood in the
wagon and steadied
that massive odd-looking instrument as Quasimodo securely
tied down the
protective cloth. "Do not allow that instrument to slip,"
warned Frollo
earlier, "lest it is damaged beyond repair." The bell
ringer heeded
his guardian's words and took extraordinary care not to
allow the glossy
black Steinway grand to roll from the wagon bed all during
its perilous
journey to the country. It was not an overly long trip yet
Quasimodo and
Phoebus knew perfectly well that if that piano was in any
way damaged...
Thank goodness Daniel "Iggy" McMullen happened to take
an impromptu
time trip to late 15th Century France. Iggy remembered that
piano and often
took delight in needling Claude Frollo about, "housing such
a thing in
the Palais when the piano won't make an appearance for
another three hundred
years."
Indeed, Claude had thought of the strange looks and
curious comments
he endured ever since that wonderful Christmas back in
1482, when he made
special arrangements to give his Danisha a holiday she'd
never forget.
And so many sweet, and funny, memories surrounded that
piano as the three
men traveled down memory lane.
When Iggy arrived at the Palais, it was Quasi who
brought up so many
wonderful memories. One in particular brightened an
otherwise cold, dreary
day. "Hey, Quas," Iggy began, "remember that time when I
first came here
and we had that hot tub party. Then Nisha walked in on
us...?"
Phoebus couldn't resist joining the merriment. "Yeah,
and I remember
when you brought all that yummy New World food...Say,
didn't Nisha bring
something that following winter? I think it was when she
was expecting
Nadine. She came to Chateau d'Arcy and brought a strange
concoction...Hmm...It
was spicy and fiery." The former Captain snapped his
fingers as he recalled,
"Salsa! That was it! It was so good. I remember when Jehan
Frollo scooped
up this huge spoonful..."
"And," said Quasi laughingly, "Nisha told him not to
take so much but
when Jehan bit into it..."
Iggy, howling away while at last mooring the piano into
place, said,
"I think the boy suffered Five Alarm Burn!"
The entire square reverberated with the men's laughter
as several passersby
stopped and offered their fondest memories of Frollo's New
World lady.
There were so many stories shared, so much laughter
erupting, so much grief
alleviated a bit. Indeed, these good people still missed
the unusual woman
from a faraway land who had captured the heart and mind of
one Claude Frollo.
Yet the merriment was short lived as the former Judge
Frollo, severe
in his total black ensemble, suddenly appeared at the base
of the Palais
steps. He seemed worn, dejected; his face was haggard and
emotionless.
As soon as he approached the men, he addressed them as
such, "Is that instrument
ready for travel?"
"Yes, master," replied Quasimodo.
"Then be quick yet ever so careful in transport. The
piano is
to go
into the drawing room. Take care that..."
Frollo's voice trailed off as the figure from behind
approached him.
The man was in his middle fifties, dark gray-eyed, with
light brown hair
streaked with strands of gray. While not as spare as Claude
Frollo, the
man was of the same height. Unfortunately the fine black
velvet robe with
its bejeweled yoke and red epaulets, along with the
familiar triangular
hat with its red silk veil didn't carry the same visual
impact. However,
it was the awful sternness of the man's face that conveyed
that air of
power and authority. This was Phillipe Ouimet, the
handpicked successor
to the Ministry of Justice. Phillipe and Claude had known
each other for
years; Phillipe had the distinction for assisting in the
arrest and conviction
in those conspirators. It was also Phillipe who had
retained Frollo's circle
of spies, most notably Fern Grigsby, the New World woman.
Phillipe never
pressed Claude about Fern nor any of Frollo's 'New World'
friends for that
matter. As far as Phillipe was concerned, Madame Fern's
tactics always
yielded positive results; he expressed hope to employ
Madame Fern several
times as special agent.
Also, Phillipe was grateful that Claude Frollo stayed
on to ease the
transition, what with Frollo still seething over the awful
results of that
conspiracy ring. Marcel Rougelot, that serial killer, was
dead. The duChamps
-- Maurice and Paulette -- along with Robert Fouinon and
several others
suffered the worst possible tortures at the hands of Claude
Frollo. It
seemed, to Phillipe, that Claude Frollo took a special, and
personal, delight
in watching those villains suffer in agony from what
Danisha called 'the
works' -- the rack, the floggings, near pressings, stripped
naked and suspended
over hot coals, the branding...
And then there was the execution itself. Not in so many
years that
something so mundane had drawn so much attention. It was a
spectacle unprecedented
as citizens from all over Paris -- even people from far
away places --
came to watch these hapless souls pay for their heinous
crimes. By now,
nearly everyone had heard the awful news of Mlle. Danisha's
passing and
they were rightfully outraged when the prisoners' sinister
plot was finally
revealed.
Tearing himself away from the memory, Phillipe turned
his thoughts to
the present. Striding up to Claude Frollo he said, "Sir, I
would like to
thank you for your timely assistance. However, as your
friend, may I suggest
a few days rest before my formal installation. My friend,
you are still
in shock; you need time to heal." Yes, thought, Claude, he
did need time
to rest and heal, to deal with his loss and get on with his
life. At that
moment someone entered his thoughts. Yes, Nadine...She is
the one bright
spot in my life, and an afternoon visit to the 21st Century
just to be
with her...
Claude Frollo and Phillipe continued to converse as
Phoebus climbed
into the driver's seat with Quasimodo and Iggy in back to
steady the piano.
Phillipe's inquiries about that "curious contraption"
amused Frollo to
no end, but as Claude mounted Snowball, the conversation
again grew serious.
"Phillipe, I am here at your disposal. I know it seems
rather silly: the
former Minister of Justice giving advice to the new..."
Phillipe Ouimet chuckled good naturedly then said.
"Claude, it is not
silly but vital. The transition must be as smooth as
possible...Which reminds
me, what of that Gypsy King, and that other spy in your
employ, a M. McNaney?
From Marcel Rougelot's writings I suspect some foul play in
the matter
of your lady's death."
The subject of Danisha's death, let alone any wild
suspicions surrounding
her sudden demise, never came up in conversation. Claude
Frollo had expressly
forbidden any talk of his beloved in his presence; he still
had to deal
with his personal grief. All Claude could say to Phillipe
was, "I understand
your suspicions; however, the official report implicitly
states that Danisha
died of heart failure. As for Julian McNaney, I haven't
heard from the
man since Marcel's death. I simply presume the man has
secured another
assignment..."
Phillipe interrupted, "But, Claude, from Marcel
Rougelot's last writings
-- and what was this talk of a M. Henry Clay? From what
I've read, Rougelot
had planned to poison the man. Which is why suspect your
lady's death is..."
Claude Frollo, astride Snowball, shot fiery eyes at
Phillipe Ouimet
and angrily said, "No, Phillipe! I will reiterate: Danisha
died of heart
failure, pure and simple." Then, as an afterthought, Frollo
raised his
hand as if to stop Phillipe from replying; his voice
softened as he said,
"My friend, if you suspect foul play, then by all means you
must find the
Gypsy King Clopin. I never condoned his assistance with
Julian's investigation,
and I have this sneaking suspicion that Clopin discovered
Julian's 'alternative
plan', that is if Danisha's life was in any direct danger,
however..."
"Rougelot led you on a wild goose chase before
McNaney's plan could
be put into effect," rejoined Phillipe, "and you have yet
to explain all
that to me. Ah well, the man is dead and so are his
conspiring companions....Claude,
for what it's worth, I still want to find Clopin. I can't
get over this
deep suspicion that the man knows something."
The two men fell silent; then, swiftly changing the
subject, Phillipe
asked Claude, "Have you spoken to your brother since...?"
Claude shot another hot look and said, "Jehan and I
haven't spoken
to each other since Danisha's death...As far as I'm
concerned, Phillipe,
it was Jehan's utter stupidity that triggered all this
disaster. I was
moments away from arresting Rougelot until..."
The retired judge sighed then said, "I blame Jehan that
much, Phillipe.
I've practically disowned him since." His eyes softened as
he told Phillipe,
"At least YOUR brother is the epitome of the well-bred
gentleman -- wealthy,
well educated and traveled, a fine father..." Minister
Ouimet smiled
as said just before heading back to the Palais, "Evrard and
I are different,
Claude. He lives his life and I live mine. I love Evrard,
heart and soul.
I only wish..."
Claude smiled, "Your only wish is that Evrard remarry,
find a suitable
mother for Orry." Frollo smiled even broader when he
recalled to
Phillipe, "your father bringing Evrard to Paris that first
time -- I had
been Minister of Justice less than five years -- Evrard was
just a raw
lad but bright and ambitious. He and I became fast friends
when he attended
the Universitie...He told me he still missed his mother..."
With that, Claude detected something in Phillipe's eye
and decided
to cut short the reminisce. After a brief silence, Claude
and Phillipe
said their good-byes, but not after Claude asked, "Where is
Evrard? I thought
he'd at least tear himself away from his travels and
business, and come
to Paris to see his brother installed as Minister of
Justice." Without
smiling, Phillipe only replied, "As of our last
correspondence, Evrard
is currently en route to Paris as we speak. His maternal
cousin and her
husband are accompanying him. Oh Claude, I never told you
this, but Evrard
has bought yet another home -- a rambling place, near that
lovely pond,
not too far from your place. His cousin, Clarice Flambert,
is a friend
of Guillaume Sarrisin and Isabelle LaCroix."
Claude Frollo made no comment other than, "Well,
perhaps I may call
on Evrard someday..."
That brief, yet enlightening conversation with the kids
helped to ease
Claude's mind and put his painful loss in perspective. What
wonders and
wisdom these little children wrought! Yet, once home,
Geraldine shared
some timely news that further planted the seeds of
suspicion. In time,
Claude Frollo and Phillipe Ouimet would learn the shocking
truth. But at
what price?
COMING UP:
Johnny covers his tracks -- and Dorothy's...Claude
Frollo's vibes triggers
memories...Evrard...
GO TO CHAPTER 3!
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