Story Listing

1. S2 E1 - A Murder on a Plantation - His P.O.V. (2 parts)

2. S2 E1 - Raking Up Old Memories

3. S2 E1 - The Night of the Red Dress (6 parts)

4. S2 E1 - Put THIS in Your Pipe and Smoke it!

5. S2 E2 - An Unholy Death - Her P.O.V. (2 parts)

6. S2 E2 - The LOOK

7. S2 E2 - Some Kind of Code

8. S2 E2 - He Rules The Roost

9. S2 E2 - Nuns... and Bikinis... and the Healing Waters of the Holy Spring

10. S2 E2 - Daughters (6 parts)

S2 E1 – A Murder on a Plantation – His P. O. V.

Part 1 of 2

When he pulls up to La Kaz this morning, he feels pretty optimistic. The day had dawned cool and his morning cup of tea had been perfect. The new pyjamas were much more comfortable and, best of all, he is sure he's turned a corner with Camille.

There, on the beach, watching the sun set with her, he'd dared greatly and after only 10 minutes of dithering he'd brazenly ventured out to her in his shirt sleeves! She hadn't batted an eye. The world did not end. His dignity remained intact. So much for his worry about maintaining decorum. Next on the agenda… jacket off at work! It CAN be done… and shall!

But now, duty calls and his armour is at full strength. Good thing too because his first sight of her shakes him a bit. Call those shorts? I should say so! But… what lovely legs… He could look at them all day!

Then! A blind date? Camille? Tomorrow night? He successfully hides his unease and drives them to the crime scene. Let tomorrows' troubles come tomorrow. Today is already under way.

He is a trifle uncomfortable at the crime scene. He never likes being reminded of colonialism. Fortunately the team is very gung-ho and he can stand back a bit and let them work. He is sure Fidel would have noticed the broken glass but he didn't want to appear completely slack and so he points it out first.

Driving up to the main house (mansion, more like), the cool gives way to humid. He hesitates briefly, shrugs, and unbuttons his jacket. No one can see him in the truck so he may as well try a new survival skill. Camille is smiling but watching the road so no problems there. Surely she will forgive him a simple human frailty? Partners do that, don't they? Good ones do. And she does, so all is well.

Five minutes later he is buttoned back up in more ways than one. He is stoically shocked by this family's behaviour and morals. A man of 72! With a woman of 33! How had he found the strength? Where had she found the patience? Made the 10-year gap in his own troubles pale into insignificance. Maybe 10 years isn't such a big deal after all? He'll have to think about that later… but problematic age differences are promptly forgotten with the news that everyone was right here in full sight of everyone else during the murder. Why is nothing ever easy?

Minutes later, when he automatically hands over his handkerchief, he is kicking himself. Ridiculous reflexes! Antiquated mannerisms! A dinosaur, that's me. I don't need to see it – I can HEAR Camille's eyes rolling in their sockets! But he soldiers on, also by reflex.

Camille's tone of voice did not escape him either. It can't be because Kim is lovely – Camille is too professional for that. Her copper's instincts are seldom wrong and he adds this to the list of facts in his head.

The internecine fighting is ramping up. Time to go. But his last question blows off whatever lid of stilted politeness has been kept on so far. And… Erzulie again! An excuse to lure Camille away and now perhaps a reason for murder?

He is most pleased by Fidel's acumen to spot the significance of the bloody finger-tip… and the sheer dumb luck of being in the right place at the right time. Would I have noticed it? Unknown. On such lucky breaks are cases solved. And, indeed, a vital clue is found. Good on you, Fidel.

After talking to the workers, Camille returns looking as cool as the proverbial cucumber. He is sweltering now, wishing he were out of public view so he could at least undo his jacket again. Their brief conversation allows him to try a tiny bit of verbal banter. It goes well and he is pleased at the friendly tone he has achieved… but peeling his trousers off his thighs just so he can step up into the truck is disheartening. It's difficult to be suave while being steamed alive.

At the station, he is out of his jacket as soon as he can manage and no one notices. Thank god. The humidity is unrelenting. Unfortunately, he has to force himself back into it almost immediately and the lining hasn't even dried out yet. Fortunately, Camille is most helpful. Nice to be coddled a bit.

During their walk to the doctor's office he casts about for something to say. Small talk! The bane of his existence! How uneasy it makes him… but Camille is so much easier to talk to than almost anyone else… and so he mentions Erzulie and immediately wishes he hadn't.

Biological clocks? Don't get me started! Mothers wanting grandchildren? Please! He offers the tiniest bit of his feelings on the subject, knowing exactly how it feels to be the overlooked toy, the 'not quite right' object in question. Then she asks him if he's ever been on a blind date! As if! No way would he subject himself to such potential humiliation.

She gives him a perfect opening for a snappy comeback and gentlemanly compliment about a mature Rioja and is very pleased with himself… for about 3 seconds… then it all goes pear-shaped! He cannot believe it! She is spitting mad and talking nonsense and all he can do is stutter and try to catch up. He gives up trying and is reduced to pulling rank… which… thank god… she responds to. Small mercies!

He also realizes too late that he's revealed a deeply buried secret when he cries out, "Why do women always DO that?" He fully expects her to jump all over THAT… but she doesn't. The way she acts, she must hear it all the time from luckless men. But, good, she didn't catch it. He does NOT wish to be grilled about WHAT women? WHERE? WHEN? His abysmal dating record remains hidden. Super.

As he marches away, he fervently hopes the two older women working on their float hadn't overheard the 'frank discussion' between him and Camille... they must have sounded like two lunatics. Who could make sense of it? He couldn't so surely two strangers wouldn't. He hears something, looks over his shoulder… the two women are shaking their heads and laughing with delight. What wrong impression has he left there on the street? He shakes his head… get yourself back on track, Poole! Work the case and forget about the small talk. Good advice!

Thank goodness for the doctor's surprising input. It gives them both something to concentrate on. Back at the station it's like the fight never happened. What had that fight been about, anyway? She'd been so upset and he suspects he'd only been the closest available target. Whatever it was, she seems much calmer now.

In retrospect, the extendable pointer had been a bad idea. She isn't over her mad after all. He is lucky to get it back in one piece! Has he annoyed people like this all along? Or was he only annoying to her? If so, why? Maybe he is normal and SHE is the problem… but, no… people back home had vented at him all the time. It must be him. Hard to guess what will set people off. Only thing to do is start a mental check list and keep track of things never to do or say again. What a lot of bother! Looking surreptitiously at her, he thinks maybe it is worth the effort.

Later, in the market, she makes another incredible claim about 'obvious love'. Come to think on it, she says this a lot… that she can tell when people are in love just by looks and sounds and actions. He wonders why it seems so important to her. Surely she has all the love she can handle? All those young men… it doesn't bear thinking about… so he shuts down that part of his troubled mind.

Thankfully, he finds a new book pertinent to the case. Modern convention will not uncover past mores and ways of thinking. He must immerse himself in the past. Also, it puts an end to the troubling talk of love festivals. Stiff upper lip, Richard! It's what's saved me in the past and I'll stick to what works.

Next morning, she catches him off-guard about the book… else he wouldn't have quipped as he did. He covers his consternation with as cheeky a smile as he can manage and it seems to do the trick. During the drive to the mill, he avoids further conversation by looking out his window. Let her think he is inferring and deducing. Better that then his true thoughts… 'At it all night and again before breakfast!' Whatever possessed me to say such a thing? I mustn't allow myself to imagine what she really thinks of me. God, if I can't manage to speak intelligently of wine or books, what hope is there?

Then, at the mill, she races off like a mad thing… and he follows as if tied by invisible cords. He doesn't know what she's seen or heard but he simply cannot let her go unprotected. Oh, Poole, you are in WAY over your head! Luckily it isn't danger she's rushed into but another tiny clue… a tiny red clue. Add it to the list!

When he is grilling Miss Kim again, he commits a huge faux pas and he's not even sure what it is! He's just rolled his eyes and snorted at the woman's comment about all the men in the street when, too late, he sees the daggers being shot his way by Camille. One thing about Camille, when she stifles… she STIFLES! His humour dries up like the Kalahari on a particularly bad day and it takes several moments before he can find his voice to continue his line of questioning. Camille steams off almost immediately and he hasn't the courage to remain undefended so he leaves too.

It isn't until they are at the truck that her actions begin to make sense. Her FATHER! Of course! Abandonment issues tied up with hatred of women who steal men from other women… and perhaps hatred of the men who allow it to happen? All he can think to say is a very quiet "Sorry" but that doesn't begin to express what he is feeling. How sad for a child to be deserted.

All the way back to the station he thinks about this unexpected window into Camille's life. It explains so much! Her reckless bravery, is it a cover for fear? Her difficulty with blind dates, does she trust any of the men she's met so far? Does she trust men at all? Does she trust HIM? Does she see him as a man… or just 'the boss'? Oh, this spiral of questions plus the heat is giving him a horrible headache.

END – part 1