I do not own anything from Charlie and the Chocolate factory. All rights and likenesses belong to Roald Dahl, Johnny Depp and Tim Burton. No profit is being garnered from this work. Note to readers – Oompa Loompas are not cheap drunks. I took Tupik-Ra barhopping this weekend and for such petite people, they can hold their liquor better than I can. – Stealth Phoenix
Chapter 30
While Willy and Veronica were otherwise occupied at her brother's apartment, Detective Cavenaugh of the Metropolitan Police department was pounding the pavement in search of his elusive quarry - peering into shop windows and ignoring the cold slurry creeping over the sides of his shoes to numb his feet.
He'd been on the hunt for more than three hours now. Things were coming together nicely and he needed one more vital item before he could wrap it all up. Finally, he reached his target store and slipped inside.
Cavenaugh stood quietly to one side and waited for the attention of the slim young man behind the counter. He was helping an elderly lady tend to her business. After what seemed like an eternity, but was only a few minutes, she paid her tab and collected the large variety of bags that clustered around her feet like exhausted puppies. The young man noticed him and gave him a nod of recognition and disappeared into the back of the store.
Cavenaugh sighed and against his better judgment, approached the elderly lady still attempting to balance all her bags. "Ma'am, do you need a hand getting this to your car?" he asked, his worn face creased into a small polite smile. No need to rush – after all this time he could afford to wait a few more minutes.
"Oh, Yes please. My car is just around the corner. I didn't realize I'd bought so much – but you know how it is for the holidays." She twittered as Cavenaugh collected a few of the larger bags that seemed to be giving her problems.
He followed her to a tiny beige Honda Civic snuggled up against the curb, it was blocked on the passenger side by a good sized snow-drift, but the driver's side was clear and the lady opened the door to pop open the hatchback. Cavenaugh helped her stow the packages with care so that nothing might shift while she drove.
"Thank you, young man. It's nice to know that chivalry isn't dead." The woman said with a smile as Cavenaugh shut the back for her.
"It's no problem Ma'am, just call me an overgrown boy scout who can't resist an attractive lady," he smiled, enjoying flustering her with the compliment.
She patted his cheek, handing him a small package wrapped in festive paper and said, "What a good boy you are – here's your reward. "Happy Christmas!"
He smiled and waved as he moved back to the store out of the cold wind. He regarded the small package in his hand. It was a cardboard underneath cheap wrapping paper, slight rattle with the smell of pecan and chocolate inside – cookies. His favorite!
He tucked the box into his pocket, lingering over the smell of home baked cookies for a moment before his mind returned to business. Entering the store, he caught the attention of the young man. The man kept his face carefully blank as Cavenaugh approached. Their previous encounters hadn't ended warmly and both sides were wary.
"Good afternoon Tom, how are you today?" Cavenaugh asked, launching the first volley.
"Quite well Detective Cavenaugh. Yourself?" Tom replied, shifting from foot to foot.
"Very well. Let me cut to the chase, I don't feel like asking anymore and neither one of us is interested in making things uncomfortable," Cavenaugh said, giving the man a flat stare and leaning forward to rest both hands flat on the counter – projecting every ounce of his authority to emphasize his point.
"Indeed, Sir. I want no trouble and want nothing more than to send you away happy." Tom said, throat swallowing rapidly.
"Good. Now, do you have anything to tell me?"
"Yes sir, here is what you came for. I'm sorry there was any misunderstanding." Tom said, slipping the large flat package onto the counter toward the detective with an air of palatable relief.
Cavenaugh nodded sharply and gave the young man a tight smile – no need to carry a grudge. He picked up the package and left the shop.
Tom sighed as he left – better to see the back of that one than the front.
Cavenaugh paused outside to slip open the box to examine the contents. It was exactly as he'd hoped and he was finally done. He'd managed to run his quarry to ground and could now enjoy the rewards.
He'd gotten his daughter the signed copy of "Where's my Cow?" by Terry Pratchett for Christmas.
He'd ordered the bloody thing months ago and while various copies occasionally passed through the small second-hand bookstore, this was the one he'd specifically requested – and it had arrived before Christmas. Shopping completed for the year!
Cavenaugh stuffed the book under his arm and hurried to the small pub close to Willy Wonka's factory to make his 2 p.m. appointment. He was meeting the primary point of contact for the case to make an informal stab at seeing what kind of resistance persecuting this case was going to get.
The pub was small and warm with just a few tables scattered around a long L-shaped bar that took up most of the available room with a small active kitchen in the back that also served as a take-away station. He slid into the seat where the waiting occupant smiled up at him.
Humphrey Ettinger, Esq. was the lawyer representing the Met Police prosecuting the case. He had a long working relationship with Cavenaugh who considered the man a friend.
"I hope you don't mind, I already placed our orders – since you always get the same bloody thing, I went ahead and grabbed your usual." Humphrey said, taking a sip of his pint.
"Thanks. Now, shall we discuss?"
"Okay – to summarize. The fire was set by Jake Manning – who plea bargained all other charges down to Arson, for which he can expect to serve 7-9 years. Ms. Carmichael was living and working there and according to Manning's confession, he was hired to assault her by a Victor Brahm, resident of California. Mr. Brahm is Ms. Carmichael's previous employer and they parted company due to conflicts. Muddying the waters, Brahm has claimed that Carmichael was blackmailing him and using Manning as the intermediary," Cavenaugh paused while the waitress brought out his own black and tan.
"Frankly – Brahm is full of shit. We've got Manning's confession, tape of him breaking in to support it – so that portion is an open and shut case. Brahm's lawyer provided us a tape that he's claiming is a recorded conversation with Carmichael making her threats. He doesn't know that Carmichael also recorded the conversation and gave us that copy as well. The two conversations do not correspond." Ettinger said.
"Really? I haven't heard Brahm's. What's up?"
"The tape he gave us about two days ago supports his claim that she's blackmailing him. However, since you were so kind to provide a copy of what I'm going to call 'the original' about two weeks back, I had the tapes checked on a hunch and Brahm's has evidence of being digitally manipulated – pretty high quality but whoever the sound engineer was left noticeable traces.
"Ooh! So we get to nail him for tampering with evidence as well. Guys like this just make my day." Cavenaugh said enthusiastically.
"Mine too. The only problem is going to be getting the Yanks to work with us to prosecute in a timely manner. Apparently, they've decided to look a little deeper into the business workings of Mr. Brahm and this may tie into a large extortion case against him," Ettinger's eyes gleamed with glee.
"Bloody Americans, always complicating things," Cavenaugh smirked, raising his glass to commend their efforts. "So when can we expect their support on this? I don't want to rush this if we can nail him for anything else."
"I'll have to get back with you after the holidays. So, what's Wonka like? Is he the fruit loop we saw during the Golden Ticket contest?"
"He's a bit odd. He has this weird grin – like some sort of Ken doll. I thought initially that he was some sort of poofter with the fancy clothes he wears, but he stuck pretty close to Carmichael though," Cavenaugh confessed, switching from professional to personal with that question. "He's really pale – and has purple eyes for Christ's sake. Other than that, he acted fairly normally. I don't know what those kids from the contest were talking about, but other than some weird way to make lemonade, things seemed fairly normal – in his own flamboyant way."
"So is he…" Ettinger made a little limp wrist move, indicating Wonka's sexual preference.
"Don't think so, judging by the way he kept looking at Carmichael. He seemed pretty protective of her. Actually, he's quick – we had a sprinter down at the station and Wonka tripped the man up. Good reflexes."
"What's she like?"
"Shy, a bit of a quiet bird. She works with candy so I can see the common interest," Cavenaugh paused to sip his drink, his eyes lit up in a sly smile, "She's a looker though, pretty dark auburn hair with hazel eyes. Kinda scrawny, but not real awkward about it."
He reflected for a moment before continuing with a puzzled furrow on his brow, "Her reaction when I ran up to meet her seemed a little off – pretty skittish. I think something may have happened to her in the past. She's got some pretty heavy scarring on her hands. I thought it might be some kind of industrial accident, but now I wonder…" he made a mental note to check into her past a little more thoroughly.
"Humph! Sounds like Wonka has a thing for her. Good riddance – he deserves a little happiness for all that he spreads it around with that candy of his," Ettinger said as the waitress brought around their sandwiches.
They fell upon the food with hearty appetite and the rest of the visit was dedicated toward discussion of the other cases that they were pursuing. Even as he spoke, Cavenaugh felt moved to nudge a Carmichael's background a bit more to figure out what she'd been hiding.
Curious.
--
There was a council meeting that evening for the Oompa Loompa. The seven primary members sat closest to the ceremonial fire; Tupik-Ra, legal counsel and lore master; Sher-Man-Ra, psychiatrist and Shaman for the tribe; Dev-On, medical doctor and Healer; Mic-Ka, chief and leader of the Oompa Loompa; Moni-Ka representing the overall health and popular opinion of the tribe and incidentally Mic-Ka's wife; Ori-Vil, engineer and head hunter for the tribe; and finally Nei-Vil, who championed the customs and traditions of the tribe as its dance master who was also the driving force behind the preparations for the Exodus Ceremony.
"Ver-Oni-Ka and Won-Ka have declared their love for one another – finally!" Mic-Ka started out with a roll of his eyes summing up the tribe's exasperation with the outsiders for their indirect ways.
"Indeed – we nearly had to lock them in a room together to let those two get it out of their system," Moni-Ka huffed.
"That would not have been conducive to their relationship," Sher-Man-Ra chided, "That would have just gotten them angry with us."
"In either case, I'm glad – trying to re-do the ceremony at this point would have been impossible," said Nei-Vil, looking worn and tired. He'd been laboring with the tribe to perfect their dances and rehearsing the ceremonies until everyone knew their part letter perfect – everyone except their tall friends. That was what kept him up nights in worry.
Sher-Man-Ra looked to the younger man with a grin of compassion, "We would not ask the impossible of you Nei-Vil. Don't worry, I know these particular outlanders well, they will take their parts in our celebration without prompting."
"Here, you look like you need it," Dev-On said, handing Nei-Vil a cocao bean to consume. "I know you will not rest easy until everything is over, but don't use Ver-Oni-Ka as your role model to work until collapse."
They all chuckled at that.
"The supplies are gathered, the feast is cooking, teams are ready to assist the outlanders with their preparations tomorrow morning. The Chocolate room is being groomed for the main performance and the center of the village is being decorated as we speak for the rest." Ori-Vil summarized, glancing at his son with worry. "Your mother is worried about you too, Nei-Vil."
Nei-Vil grimaced, "Won-Ka bringing Ver-Oni-Ka here was a good thing. I just worry about the omens – her home burning down, these charges rising against her like a dark evil. What if she is to play the Great Destroyer to Won-Ka's Creator?"
Sher-Man-Ra shook his head emphatically, "Absolutely not. She represents a force of female creation essential to both him and us. The path may be hidden, but they will show us the way. We must hold to our faith in both of them."
"The lore speaks clearly. Sher-Man-Ra is correct. The threat that follows her is not based in her own nature, but of one who lusts to destroy her," Tupik-Ra said in a solemn voice.
They pondered that for a moment, before Monica made a humming noise. "I suspect Won-Ka and his woman are up to something," Moni-Ka said. "Something about her obsessive work in her studio strikes me as contrived."
Sher-Man-Ra agreed, "From what I've learned about her, the drive to work is there, but I do not think she would retreat into her work as a form of shelter from her problems. You are correct Moni-Ka, what have you learned?"
Moni-Ka shrugged, "She's been locked in the studio for weeks, without food or sleep, what could I learn with such limited contact? I suspect Char-Li knows something, but he had vowed not to speak of it."
Mic-Ka raised his hand to the aggravation of having something going on under their noses and not know what it was, "That may be, but I have a feeling things will be revealed at the ceremony."
Ori-Vil looked eager, "Do you know something?"
"No, just a feeling," the Chief said, and smiled at Moni-Ka as she took his hand.
Turning his attention back to the meetings, he said briskly, "Alright now, what is the latest information about that shipment of green caterpillars for the ceremony…"
--
"How badly do you need all this stuff?" Willy asked Veronica desperately as they made yet another trip up to the roof lugging multiple packages from Reggie and Spencer's apartment.
"Considering we're holding onto everything I own at the moment – quite badly," she paused and looked at the stack of boxes in Willy's arms before diving to grab one in the middle of the stack, "Actually, this one stays…and this one….and that one over there…"
"Veronica!" he yelped as the stack, massively unbalanced threatened to crash to the ground. He quickly squatted and let the packages tumble into the Wonkavator from a lesser height.
"Sorry – these are Reggie and Spencer's Christmas presents. That's what the majority of this stuff is – I ordered on-line from the factory."
Willy's attitude took a dramatic shift as he looked at the collection with new eyes. "So is mine in there?" he asked casually, prodding a few boxes to one side to try and read the labels.
"Yes," Veronica swatted at him and re-stacked the pile neatly in the corner, "Stop that or I'll give it to someone else instead."
She had to pause and re-adjust the bulging knot of hair at the nape of her neck again. The rubber band had snapped under the weight and it was now held in position by a couple of pencils. The unaccustomed weight was incredible and her temples and neck throbbed with pain.
"One more load and that should be it – we can make our farewells and take off," she sighed, rolling her aching head back and forth trying to relieve sore muscles.
She felt warm hands in gloves rest gently on her shoulders for a moment before sliding up to knead the base of her skull. She groaned with relief and allowed her head to slump forward in silent invitation to continue.
Willy chuckled and continued to rub the muscles, actually feeling them tremble under his fingers. "Better?" he asked, resting her hands against her shoulders once more.
"Uh-huh," she said, raising her hands to rest on his. She leaned back to place a gentle kiss on his cheek for the sweet gesture. "Thank you."
He grinned at her, "When I was testing my Hair Creams, you should have seen what happened to poor Oli-Va. He looked like cousin It from the Adam's family. It was all I could do to keep a straight face."
Willy kissed her lightly before guiding her back down the stairs, "I'm happy to say I like yours much better."
"I'm thinking of getting Spencer to hack off about a foot and a half," she said, then quickly added seeing Willy's crestfallen expression, "It'll still be plenty long – past my shoulders, but a bit more manageable. I was going to donate it to the organization that makes wigs for kids with cancer."
"Hey – that's a great idea. I wonder if I can develop my hair creams to work for them too…" Willy paused, musing for a moment – frozen on the stairs.
She took his hand and led him unknowing down the stairs back to the apartment – he was lost in thought and she knew that he'd return in a few minutes. No use letting him freeze to death for his efforts. Willy came out of his trance and looked at their joined hand with a grin, letting her still think he was out to lunch just to enjoy the contact.
Reggie and Spencer were once again, dancing in each other's arms through the apartment as they returned. Something instrumental was playing on the stereo and Reggie was calling out step counts in time with the music.
Spencer got tangled up and almost tripped, but Reggie laughed and helped him maintain his balance, "Okay – maybe that won't work, but I've got to come up with something before the holidays are out."
"What was that?" Willy asked curiously. The fancy footwork looked like something between a tango and a fandango.
"Just working on some footwork for "Lord of the Rings: The musical". Something slow and sweet, but light on your feet," Reggie said absently, going through the steps slowly to figure out the sticking point.
Willy watched for a moment, then suddenly grabbed Veronica and swept her into the dance. His suddenness forced a squeak from her throat. His arms guided her movements against him and for a moment she forgot to breath. His eyes, glinting mischievously, warned her that he was about to do something, so she relaxed as best she could.
Willy took off into a wild tango and only through long association with her brother was she able to keep up two out of three steps. She was laughing at the look of fierce concentration on Willy's face, tongue sticking out one corner of his mouth. They moved with stalking grace back to the bemused couple before Willy whipped her into a deep dip to regard them from an upside down stance.
"Was that something like what you were aiming for?" Willy asked, grinning.
"No," said Reggie, one finger placed over his quaking lips in an attempt to muffle the laughter attempting to break out.
"Nope," Spencer said with a wide grin. "Although you get points for style and making Ronnie's hair fall down again."
Her hair was pooled on the floor and part of it was under his foot. She attempted to return upright, only to yelp in pain as it yanked on her scalp. "Ow! Help?"
Willy shuffled his feet back, helping balance her until she was free and could stand upright.
Veronica glared at him from under the concealing curtain of hair, "That's it. Spencer – cut me, man. I need it. Cut me. Please!"
Spencer quirked his lips,"Since you were so kind to toss in the magic word…hang on, let me get the good scissors."
Before she could blink, she was seated at the kitchen stool, rubber band adjusted to about between her shoulder blades. "Ready?" Spencer asked, which was a moot point since with a couple of heavy cuts, the massive length was shorn. Her head almost snapped forward with the relieved weight.
Reggie held up what could have passed for an animal pelt with a rubber band at the end – it was just about three feet in length. "That'll make a couple of wigs worth. Nice job."
She shook her head with relief.
Willy just stared at the wild length, "You know – it really does look creepy just hanging there."
Reggie twitched the length in Willy's direction and he flinched.
They fetched their coats and with promises to visit for Christmas, made their exit.
The Wonkavator made it's liftoff with only a few lights in the surrounding buildings turning on with the noise. They flew over the city, bright lights sparking below and stars twinkling above. Willy pulled her to lean back against him and they just stood together to enjoy the view.
"This is a perfect moment," he whispered into her ear. She nodded and snuggled closer, feeling safe and happy.
He started humming under his breath and she turned around to smack his arm playfully with a laugh
"Not 'A Whole New World. Cliché alert!"
"Oh my dear - you have yet to plumb the depths of my cheesiness."
They laughed, but he let the expression slide from his face as he studied her, lit only by starlight. She stared back, mesmerized by his pale skin and violet eyes veiled by the rim of his hat. She moved closer and leaned her face up to claim a kiss on those impossibly soft lips. She was mesmerized by him, his salty sweet smell, the firmness of lean muscle in his arms as he pressed against her, the wonderful softness of the long dark locks that brushed against her face. She loved the way he reached up to cup her face and stroke her loose hair – his fingers left her aching for more with every touch. She rose on her tiptoes to lightly kiss his jaw line and to nuzzle his ears.
Judging by the long inhale and the sudden crash of his lips upon her own, he seemed to like that. His tongue begged permission to enter her mouth by delicately rasping against her lips. She smiled under his kiss, only to gasp as he slid one hand under her coat to rest on her behind and pull her closer – his tongue dancing with hers. The hand on her bottom rubbed in soothing circles and relaxing her.
She allowed her hand to slide up to the nape of his neck and play with the fine delicate hair and he moaned into her mouth. Deciding that wasn't enough, she reached down to snake under the multiple layers of clothing under his coat to rest her cold hand against the warm bare flesh of his back. Willy yelped in surprise before gazing at her, her eyes sparkling with challenge, his own wide-eyed with shock and arousal. He dove back into the kiss in a purposeful manner that made her groan with anticipation.
So distracted were they that it was without their notice that the Wonkavator entered the factory and drifted to a stop in front of Veronica's door without its usual antics.
There was a discreet cough and Willy broke away to see Charlie waiting with a mischievous smirk on his face. "Charlie! How long have you been there?" he asked, a blush rising across his cheeks. He quickly restored his immaculate appearance as Charlie actually giggled.
"Since you arrived about two minutes ago. Good evening Ms. Carmichael. How are you this evening?" The boy said cheekily, enjoying his mentor's discomfort.
Veronica was blushing as well, "Um…Fine, thank you."
She knelt and quickly gathered a collection of boxes from the stack I the corner, "I brought back presents for you and your family. Could you take them to stack under your tree, since you're already here…?"
Willy assisted and they quickly had the packages and bags stowed in Veronica's room or in the arms of the hapless boy. Poor Charlie found his arms encumbered with a multitude of boxes and gaily wrapped bags.
"I can't see," he protested.
"That's good; you need to know this factory backwards, forwards and blind-folded – what a splendid way to start!" Willy twittered, spinning the boy and nudging him to stagger blindly down the hall.
Ahhh…revenge, Willy thought fondly, watching his apprentice blunder away.
He turned to Veronica and claimed another lingering kiss that promised many things to come, "I'd better get him back. The Oompa Loompas will be waking us early tomorrow to start preparations for the Exodus Ceremony – I think it best to let you be tonight."
The deep tone in his voice was promising otherwise and she wanted to agree, but Charlie staggered into a doorway with a surprised cry and lost about half the packages.
"Until tomorrow then, Love." She whispered kissing him with all the suppressed passion she could muster. Apparently it was quite a bit since when she released him, Willy's ears were bright red and he had to hold his coat somewhat awkwardly for a long moment while he closed his eyes and breathed heavily. She grinned at him and whispered "Good Night Willy, my love."
"I love you Starshine. Good night." He said softly as she closed the door to her room.