Part 7 and a Drop
Her scream still resounding in their ears, Eliana moved forwards, shaking. "But why? Why, Hendie? Why did you do it?"
Henderson’s head was held high and his expression courageous, and his lips were firmly shut.
"I think I know," Shawn was by the detective’s side, his dark eyes full of fire, "Dr Murphy wasn’t exactly a favourite around here. He had been having an affair with Nicole. He scorned Victor’s ideas of power and propriety. He had dealings with both Larry Welch and Tony Dimera. He wasn’t adverse blackmail, seduction or even murder, but worst of all from Henderson’s point of view, he hired the thieving caterers and paid them to spy on the party."
Henderson broke at those last words, shocking the already surprised guests even more as he became incandescent with fury. "Yes, and he had no respect, no respect whatsoever for the china! He actually broke a Portmeirion plate in one of his arguments with Mrs Kiriakis and ruined a perfect dinner set! And do you know what he said when I taxed him with it?" Henderson was pale with rage now, "He had the effrontery to call me a fussy, bustling old maid!"
Eliana, understanding the full implications of the insult, let out a horrified shriek. "How dare he?"
"Me! A fussy, bustling, old maid who couldn’t mind his own business if his life depended on it!" Henderson was passing from rage into madness now. "And I couldn’t have him use such disrespectful terms about Miss Walker’s, as she was then, name as he did, bandying about a woman’s name in public with absolutely no sense of shame! Yes, I killed him, but I never meant poor Master Brady to go to jail in my place. If I had believed he would really be sent down, I would have come forwards at once, but I had to think of Eliana too."
Irving crossed his arms across his wide chest and frowned. "So you poisoned Murphy, hid the evidence and waited? What was your plan?"
Henderson smiled gleefully. "Bad oysters, of course sir, which would have meant the caterers would have been prosecuted."
"Did you have no compunction about killing a fellow human being?" This was slightly rich coming from Victor, but Irving let it pass.
The butler drew himself up to his full height imperiously, and said, as if it explained everything, "Sir, he was not a gentleman!"
And Irving couldn’t help but laugh.
*******
"You know, you’re pretty good at this detective business," Irving told Shawn, "Ever thought of becoming one yourself?"
The boy grinned. "Maybe, when I’m a bit older."
"Not my baby," Belle was frowning, but to Irving she seemed just as lovely as when she was smiling. "He’s going to be a doctor." She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in her boyfriend’s ear just loud enough for the detective to hear, "My very own Dr Feelgood."
"Detective, could I borrow the prisoner for a few minutes?" Eliana, looking sedate and demure, looked up gently at Irving.
He smiled down on her, knowing this to be one of the worst nights of her life. "As long as you stay within sight and don’t try to kill him, I don’t see why not."
"Thank you." The middle aged maid hiked up her skirts and jumped onto the stage. She grabbed the microphone which was still being clutched by the shocked bandleader. She turned to the band, whispered something and then winked over at the detective.
The music started, and from the first bars, Irving knew they were in for something special.
"This is for my fiance, Herbie," Eliana gave a big wink to the now handcuffed butler. "All I’ve got to say is give me some or else."
She held the microphone in front of her, turned it on, waited for her note and then let rip.
"What you want
(oo) Baby, I got
(oo) What you need
(oo) Do you know I got it?
(oo) All I’m askin´
(oo) Is for a little respect when you come home (just a little bit)
Hey baby (just a little bit) when you get home
(just a little bit) mister (just a little bit)"
Belle was suddenly behind her, dragging various other Salem women with her and all together they formed Eliana’s backing vocals.
Eliana was going on regardless. "I ain´t gonna do you wrong while you’re gone
Ain´t gonna do you wrong (oo) ´cause I don’t wanna (oo)
All I’m askin´ (oo)
Is for a little respect when you come home (just a little bit)
Baby (just a little bit) when you get home (just a little bit)
Yeah (just a little bit)"
Irving was fully focused on the stage, but from the corner of his eye he could see various members of the party beginning to dance to the surprisingly good and very vibrant rendition of the Aretha Franklin classic.
"I’m about to give you all of my money
And all I’m askin´ in return, honey
Is to give me my profits
When you get home (just a, just a, just a, just a)
Yeah baby (just a, just a, just a, just a)
When you get home (just a little bit)
Yeah (just a little bit)"
Henderson, on the other hand, was looking more terrified by his fiancée’s performance than he had when Irving had handcuffed him.
"Ooo, your kisses (oo)
Sweeter than honey (oo),"
Irving could have sworn Eliana had just winked at him.
"And guess what? (oo)
So is my money (oo)
All I want you to do (oo) for me
Is give it to me when you get home (re, re, re ,re)
Yeah baby (re, re, re ,re)
Whip it to me (respect, just a little bit)
When you get home, now (just a little bit)"
Eliana went for the big line, leaning back and taking the microphone with her, her grey maid’s outfit making her an incongruous figure among all the other evening gowns, but the evening gowns themselves were incongruous as the women in them were - well, the only way Irving could think of describing them was ‘getting down and funky!’.
"R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Find out what it means to me
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Take care, TCB!"
It was a scene no one present would ever forget. Even if they wanted to, they couldn’t.
"Oh (sock it to me, sock it to me,
sock it to me, sock it to me)
A little respect (sock it to me, sock it to me,
sock it to me, sock it to me)
Whoa, babe (just a little bit)
A little respect (just a little bit)
I get tired (just a little bit)
Keep on tryin´ (just a little bit)
You’re runnin´ out of foolin´ (just a little bit)
And I ain´t lyin´ (just a little bit)
(re, re, re, re) ´spect
When you come home (re, re, re ,re)
Or you might walk in (respect, just a little bit)
And find out I’m gone (just a little bit)
I got to have (just a little bit)
A little respect (just a little bit)"
Irving knew he was smiling like a fool, but he couldn’t stop himself. He had just realised that he wasn’t in love, recovering from being love or preparing to fall in love again. He was free. Better yet, he had just caught a murderer, pissed a few important people off, helped out Love’s Young Dream and watched the murderer’s fiancée do the most amazing rendition of ‘Respect’ he had seen since Aretha in ’79. Life was kicking some major ass.
*******
Chicago, after the conclusion of the case of the Bopping Butler…
"Hey, Mac, have you seen this?" Joey tossed a file to his fellow uniformed cop across the messy desk that belonged to their superior officer. "Salem, wasn’t that where Irving got those doughnuts?"
"You know," his colleague answered, a slow smile spreading across his handsome black face at the memory of the delicious doughnuts he had brought with him, "I think it was."
Irving chose that opportune moment to stumble in, bleary eyed and exhausted, in search of coffee and doughnuts, disappointed by the knowledge that they could not be as good as those cooked by Alice Horton. "What’s that?"
Officers Joey Mendoza and Mac Tetherson turned to look at one of the Chicago PD’s most respected, if eccentric, detectives with matching grins. "Your new case, Detective. The chief just sent it down."
Opening the file, Peter Irving couldn’t help the grin at that came to his lips when he read the case name. ‘The Case of the Desprinkled Doughnut’.
"Irving!" Irving’s boss was yelling for him across the entire department floor. "Get your ass back to Salem right now! Someone’s stolen Mrs Horton’s doughnuts!"
If Irving had ever looked happier, it had been when listening to Aretha’s voice while eating doughnuts with chocolate sprinkles and basking in the afterglow of a case well solved. With the greatest promptitude ever, he ripped off a salute, grabbed his coat and ran for the door. "Yes, sir!"
"And Irving?" The yell made him pause and Irving skidded to a halt at the door with an expectant look on his face.
His unseen boss slammed open the door between them again and hollered more loudly than ever. "Take the rookie with you!"
Irving’s eyebrows wiggled happily. "Hey Shawn! Get your stuff! We’re going to Salem!"
Chicago’s newest detective leaped happily from behind his paper work loaded desk and went running after his superior, joy oozing from him like jelly from a doughnut centre. "You got it, PI!"
Joey and Mac looked over at each other with their matching grins growing wider by the second. They hi-fived. They knew they would be getting the best doughnuts in the country in just a few short days. Life was looking deliciously circular.
Song credit: 'Respect' Aretha Franklin.