Two in one day again! I promise, I'm posting as fast as I can write!
When Ken and Phyllis reached the ice house, they could hear shouting coming from inside. Pushing Phyllis in before him, Ken ducked into the low doorway. By the light of the two tiny lanterns, he saw what he needed to see; Lucille Butte, his victim. When he'd heard enough of the other couple bickering, he fired his pistol, pointing it back out the door. He slapped the pistol grip across Lucille's face and watched with pleasure as she tumbled down the stepped ice house floor.
"Mr. and Mrs. Carson," Miss Baxter's small voice filled the chamber. "I'd like you to meet my husband, Kenneth Fletcher."
With Mrs. Butte knocked to the ground, Charles moved quickly to Elsie's side.
"Don't even think of going for that gun, mate." Ken had mistaken Carson's movement towards Elsie as an attempt to procure Lucille's gun which had fallen at Elsie's feet. "Phyllis, love, would you please retrieve that pistol?"
Phyllis did as she was told as Charles pulled Elsie up from the gravel floor, away from the powder keg and opposite Fletcher and the doorway. He was trying to untie her bindings as quickly as possible. He wanted Elsie able to run or fend for herself. There was no telling what might happen now that they'd added another murderer to the equation.
"Put it there." Ken indicated that Phyllis place the pistol on the upper level beside the door, just to his left. If he needed to, he could empty his first gun and then grab the second.
Lucille had been dazed by the blow, but also by the fall. She looked up from the bottom of the ice house and saw two people she thought were dead; two people she had killed. For a moment she thought the keg must have blown and they were all dead.
"You'll have to wait your turn," she slurred to her ghosts as she pulled herself off the ground. Blood trickled from her temple where she had struck a corner of stone. "Now that we're dead, you have to choose me, Charles. How can you refuse me after all I've done for you?"
Charles looked from the madwoman to the one armed man. Fletcher gestured as though he wanted Charles to answer the question. "I never asked you to do anything for me, Mrs. Butte. How could killing poor Ivy or James help me?"
"They were helping Thomas spy on you."
"What did you do with Ivy's body?" Elsie asked, this mystery having never been fully explained.
"Ivy was a dull girl in life, so I had to add some spice to her." Lucille giggled at the memory. "She finally made a meal Mrs. Patmore approved of. In fact, the whole staff liked her."
"You fed her to the staff?" Fletcher asked with grudging respect.
"She made a tasty sausage. It was you who gave me the idea. You put my father in a meat grinder." She accused the ghost.
"But I didn't make him into sausage and feed him to people." Fletcher sounded as though he were upset with himself for missing the opportunity.
"I told you to wait your bloody turn!" Lucille snapped at Fletcher. She turned back to Charles and Elsie. She took a faltering step towards them and nearly tripped over the powder keg. She looked down at the keg in confusion. Why would she have brought the powder keg to the afterlife with her?
Lucille shook her head to clear it. The four other people watched her in silent wonder. None of them could fathom what might be going through a mind like hers. What a fine line there was between reality and madness in a tormented mind. "We aren't dead, are we?"
No one dared answer her question. "Did you find Miss O'Brien's tea?" To Lucille, it would explain her current state of confusion.
"Tea?" Elsie questioned.
"The special tea from India; the one that we gave to Mr. Bates to drive him mad by little bits."
Charles and Elsie nodded knowingly to each other. They finally had an explanation for Mr. Bates' erratic behavior.
"If we're not dead…" Lucille's mind cleared and she assessed the situation with clinical precision. She was surrounded. The butler and his Scottish Kelpie were trapped. The one armed man had two guns. Mrs. Hoxton-Fletcher was still alive. Lucille still had the gun she'd taken from Molesley tucked into the back of her dress sash. There was a keg of gun powder at her feet.
"Not dead yet, my lovely." Fletcher crooned. "You had your chance, now it's my turn." He tucked the gun into the waistband of his trousers and did likewise with the second gun. Then, he stepped down towards her, pulling out his knife from its sheath on his leg.
"This isn't a game, Mr. Fletcher, there aren't turns. Besides, it would be ungentlemanly of you to kill a lady."
"You ain't no lady and there ain't no rules of chivalry in play here. You killed my mate and you tried to kill me. The way I sees it, I have to kill you."
All the occupants of the ice house began to shift about slowly. Lucille backed away from Fletcher, but he circled about as he stepped down, closing the distance between them. Charles and Elsie both climbed up to the topmost ring of stones and tried to slink towards the exit where Phyllis was gesturing to them. Let the two animals kill each other, Elsie thought.
They were still a quarter of the circle away from escape when they heard the shout from outside.
"Police! You are surrounded. Come out with your hands up!" Detective Alexander was leaning against the ice house dome, beside the doorway, gun at the ready.
"Why don't you come in and get me?" Fletcher yelled back. "Or better yet, come in with your hands up."
"Mrs. Butte is the one we want, Fletcher. We know you're hurt. We can help."
"I don't need your bloody help killing this bitch." He brandished the knife expertly with his left hand. "I don't even need two hands."
"Is everyone else alright?" The detective asked.
"We're fine." Carson answered. He didn't add that they'd have been better off if the police had just stayed away.
"At least send out your hostages."
"I didn't take no hostages." Fletcher barked.
"Then you'll be glad to let them go."
"She can go." He pointed at Elsie. "But he stays and so does my wife."
"I'm not leaving," Elsie repeated.
"Suit yourself," Fletcher shrugged. He couldn't care less.
"No. She's leaving." Charles grabbed Elsie by the arm and with two great strides dragged her to the doorway and threw her towards the exit. "Detective!" Detective Alexander reached in and grabbed Elsie to pull her out.
They could hear her kicking and screaming as she fought with the police. "Let me go! Let me go back! That's my husband in there." From the sound of it, she was putting up quite a fight.
"Oh, Charles!" Lucille ran up the steps and flung herself at him. "You chose me!"
Ken gave Charles a dark smirk. "You certainly know how to pick 'em, Mr. Carson; a madwoman and a hellcat."
Charles pushed Lucille back to arm's length. He wanted to strike her. After all she had done and all she had tried to do, he would have been justified. Before he could decide, there was more commotion outside.
"Please, Mrs. Carson. Ow! Please, just…What the? Grab him!"
Fletcher, Lucille, Phyllis and Charles all turned towards the door as Mr. Molesley came stumbling into the ice house. Joseph had not anticipated the floor falling away as it did. He dashed into the nothingness and fell down the stone steps roughly. Phyllis cried out and ran down to where he lay at the bottom of the ice house floor.
"I'm starting to think the madwoman has it right. There must be something in the tea around here. You're all daft!" Fletcher was laughing a full-throated laugh at the ridiculous turn of events. Part of him thought all of this must be a dream and any moment he'd wake up in his cell to tell Lewis about his mad dream.
"Joseph?" Phyllis turned him over and was relieved to see him casting a self-effacing smile up at her. He was pale, but seemed to have weathered the fall.
"I came to help."
"So I see, love."
TBC...
AN/ Of course Molesley was going to be there for the finale...but will he be a help or a hindrance? I'm writing the final chapters right now...Reviews matter.
