"What's the kiss of death?" Muffy asked her anxious father. "It doesn't have anything to do with death, does it?"
"You don't know about the kiss of death?" Mr. Crosswire almost shouted. "Haven't you ever watched The Godfather Part II? Oh…I guess you haven't."
"Is that a movie?" said Muffy curiously. "Tell me about it."
"All right," said her father with a dramatic sweep of his arm. "The film opens in the Sicilian town of Corleone, where the local Mafia kingpin, Don Ciccio, has just…"
"Ed, honey, we don't have time for that now," his wife interrupted.
"You're absolutely right, Millicent," said Mr. Crosswire. Directing a fierce glare at Muffy, he barked, "Go to your room!"
Mrs. Crosswire gaped incredulously. "I thought we agreed, Ed—only I can send Muffy to her room."
"I'm sorry, dear," said her pacified husband. "I overstepped my authority."
"Apology accepted," said Millicent. To Muffy she added, "Go to your room, and don't come out until you're ready to tell us where the dress is."
"I'll never tell," said Muffy defiantly.
"Maybe you'll change your mind when you hear the screams and the gunshots," her mother retorted. "But by then it'll be too late. We'll all be dead. You'll be dead."
"And only Tyson will be left to avenge our deaths," Mr. Crosswire added, "just like young Vito Andolini, who was nine years old when…"
"Give it a rest, Ed," said his wife impatiently.
With a sigh of resignation, Muffy marched dutifully into her bedroom, and Mrs. Crosswire closed the door to seal her in. Turning to her husband, her expression filled with worry, she said, "What if she doesn't ever tell? What'll happen to us then?"
Mr. Crosswire paused to think for a second. "Well," he suggested, "we could let her out of her room long enough to watch The Godfather Part II, just so she'll appreciate the seriousness of…"
"Enough already!"
Muffy lay motionlessly on her bed, still wearing her dress and shoes, thinking about what she had done. Whenever my mom sends me to my room, she asks me to think about what I did, was her train of thought. But this time she didn't. Why not? Is it because she knows I did the right thing?
Did I do the right thing? What if we all get killed because of me? How will I live with myself if that happens?
No! I won't let Mavis go blind! I won't let that awful Mr. Gelt get away with my dress!
I could call up Mr. Cooper right now…ask him to forget about it…
I think I hate my dad. I can't believe what he did to me in the schoolyard. The nerve of him! I know it was you, Daddy. You broke my heart. You broke my heart…
Francine, who had already changed into her pajamas, cocked her head as she regarded the statue-like poodle girl on the couch. "What are you going to do," she asked, "sit there and say nothing all night?"
Fern didn't reply, but only stared blankly at nothing.
"So the answer's yes," said Francine. "Well, g'nite, Fern. See you in the morning, if you haven't died from motionlessness sickness."
She soon disappeared from Fern's view. Mr. Cooper will be here any minute, thought the silent girl, assuming he went at least fifteen miles over the speed limit, and didn't get pulled over.
Mrs. Frensky peeked through the door of the parents' bedroom. "Shouldn't you be getting home?" she asked the girl.
Any minute now. Does he know where the Frenskys live? Of course he does, a smart man like him.
The grandfather clock chimed eleven. C'mon, Mr. Cooper. Any minute now…any minute now…
A knock came at the door. "Eeeeek!" cried Fern in sudden terror. "Er, I mean…come in, please."
Mel Cooper walked in, the end of his beak preceding him by six inches. "Why, hello, Fern," said the duck man, who wore a pin-striped suit as if he had just left his office. "How have you been?"
"Just peachy," replied the floppy-eared girl.
"I trust you have…the item," said Cooper in a hushed tone.
Having picked up the space dress and given Fern a lift to her house, Mr. Cooper drove his Buick onto the highway and cranked up a public radio station. Fifteen minutes into his journey and the broadcast of Pipedreams, he received a call on his mobile phone. "Cooper here," he responded.
"Mr. Cooper, it's Muffy," uttered a timid voice. "I…I'm not sure if we should do this. Do you think you could…come back?"
The man grinned sympathetically. "If you're afraid of getting whacked, it's not going to happen," he reassured her. "Gelt has made open threats against you. If you're found dead, and the dress is found in his possession, the evidence against him will be incontrovertible."
"What's an incontrovertible?" Muffy inquired. "Is that some type of foreign car?"
Cooper chuckled. "No, Muffy. As I was going to say, Gelt is a very rich man, and a very influential man, and if he wants something, there are many ways he can go about getting it. Physical violence is the last thing on his mind—any two-bit thug can resort to that. He may rant and rave and threaten, but at the end of the day, he'd much rather cut a deal with you than kill you."
There was silence as Muffy, still lounging on her bed, considered the man's statement. "So…what you're saying is that Mr. Gelt's just trying to scare us?"
"Exactly," replied Cooper.
"Well, it's working," said Muffy. "My dad's terrified of him."
"I can explain that," said the duck man. "As I was doing research for Mr. Simon's lawsuit against your father, I stumbled upon an intriguing incident from his past. It turns out, Muffy, that your father's been acquainted with Gelt for a long time—even since before you were born."
"Huh?" said Muffy, surprised. "But I thought…"
"That's probably what he wanted you to think," Cooper went on. "Twelve years ago a friend of your father took out a business loan from Gelt, and less than six months after that he was found dead, with multiple gunshot wounds. Your father apparently jumped to the conclusion that Gelt had ordered the killing, even though there was no evidence pointing to him. And that, I believe, is the reason your father takes Gelt's threats so seriously."
"Wow," marveled Muffy. "He never told me."
"It's not the sort of thing a man shares with his child," said Cooper. "So, Muffy, after what I've told you, do you still want me to bring back the dress?"
She could feel her heart and stomach turning into jelly. What should I do? she wondered. Should I believe him?
To be continued