Chapter Ten
JWJ: (on cell phone) Okay, how do I figure out passwords again?
Ratigan: (on other line) Think logically. Sports teams have certain mascots and colors that distinguish them from their opponents. Organizations have symbols that distinguish them from other organizations. Passwords of such organizations usually deal with those symbols, or people that stand out in the organization.
(Meg walks in, unbeknownst to JWJ.)
JWJ: So how do I go about with this password thing?
Ratigan: What are the Democrats known for?
JWJ: John Kerry.
Ratigan: That's too obvious.
JWJ: Okay... abortion?
Ratigan: (impatiently) No.
JWJ: Welfare?
Ratigan: No!
JWJ: FDR? JFK?
Ratigan: Better. Try a symbol.
JWJ: Okay, the Democrats' symbol is the donkey, so their password obviously has to be jack-
Meg: JWJ!
JWJ: (seeing Meg) What are you doing?
Meg: What am I doing? What are you doing!
JWJ: Making sure that democracy lives on.
Meg: JWJ, no one cares about the stupid elections!
Ratigan: Is that Meg? Stay out of this, you insolent girl.
Meg: (grabs phone) I don't know why you care so much about the stupid elections either, Professor. You're not American.
Ratigan: I have my reasons.
Meg: Such as?
Ratigan: Put Mr. Jordan back on the phone.
Meg: No!
Ratigan: (sighs) Very well. (Click)
Meg: He... hung up? That's it? He didn't threaten me for once?
Basil had the papers from the safe spread out on the bed, looking at the few details of the murder plan he could gather from them. Unlike Meg, he had not been searched.
He bit his lips, an escape plan already formulating in his mind.
Basil's ears perked up at the sound of a key in the lock. He quickly shoved all of the papers into his corset. He pretended to be staring out of the window as two henchmen came into the room.
"Monsieur Colhart will see you now," one of them said.
The other one was Rafael, who was sporting a black eye. He dug his fingers into Basil's arm in a vice-like grip. "C'mon missy," he snarled.
Basil guessed that he was angry with a girl punching him in the face.
A few minutes later the detective found himself in the study. Colhart turned to him. He looked rather beat-up, as if he had been in a fight. "Well, good evening mademoiselle," he said disarmingly. He poured himself some brandy.
Basil narrowed his eyes, wondering if Colhart had spoken to Meg yet. He answered in a high-pitched voice, "Please, let Basil go. He's not the one that Ratigan wants."
Colhart smirked. "Ratigan wants him all right. You can bet yourself that." He drank the brandy in one swallow.
"Mr. Colhart, what are you getting out of this?"
Colhart spit out the brandy. Coughing, he stared at Basil, almost in terror. When he had ceased to cough, he started to laugh. "Your detective friend asked me the same question earlier."
"You've talked to Basil?" Basil said uneasily.
"Yes. The fool tried to escape. But I got him all right," he bragged. "He couldn't even walk when I was through with him."
Basil had to hold back a laugh; he saw that Colhart was lying through his teeth. Instead he flew at Colhart, yelling, "How dare you!" He allowed the blackmailer to easily restrain him.
"Oh, no you don't." He pushed Basil back.
"What is going to happen to him?"
"Well, when Ratigan's through with him..." Colhart started to laugh again. Basil saw a letter opener on the desk. He slowly began to edge towards it. Instead Colhart steered Basil into an armchair. "Now, you can make it easier for Basil. Tell me who else knows about my plan."
"Only Basil and I."
"You don't seem to understand me, Miss Sarentis. I know that others know. Just give me their names, and I will let Basil go."
"What about Ratigan? He wants Basil."
"He wants you more," Colhart smiled broadly.
Basil could not believe it. Colhart seemed to have no idea how to question someone. He either held Meg for a complete idiot, or was a complete idiot himself. Colhart was being too direct in his questioning; not to mention the fact that he was a bad liar, especially for a blackmailer.
"But we never told anyone else about the plan," said Basil.
"Oh, come on. There has to be someone else who knows about the plan."
"No one. Honestly."
Just then there was a knock on the door. A decrepit old man entered the room who appeared to be a butler. "Sir, there is a gentleman here to see you."
Colhart glanced at Basil. Then he said, "Bring Guy and Miche here first." When the butler left, Colhart said, "We will continue this conversation later, mademoiselle."
Five minutes later, Basil was back in his room, twirling the letter opener between his fingers.
Meg: Yes, this was a very short chapter. I wanted to make it longer, but I was starting to get really uncomfortable with the idea of Basil in a dress...
Emma: Ew! You're promoting cross-dressing!
Meg: Come on, Sherlock Holmes himself dressed as women from time to time.
Emma: Yeah, older women. But Basil is passing himself off as a nineteen-year-old!
Meg: Lizz help me!
Lizz: I think it's funny.
Meg: You're no help! (Storms away)
