I always thought the movie cut some quite wide corners regarding how the guards find out about Coffey and Wetmore and the girls. I know it would be impossible to fit it all into the movie, but I still like Paul's detective work from the book a lot better, so that's were I'm going from now on :)

Sorry for grammar mistakes.

Chapter 29 – A shoe and a phone call

Percy kept an uncharacteristic low profile the following days. So low in fact that when Brutus returned from laundry duty early Friday afternoon to eat lunch, the boy had disappeared completely.

"He left half an hour ago," Harry growled from the file cabinet, when Brutus asked. "He said he had a terrible 'head-ache'." He drew quotation marks in the air and shot Brutus a significant glare. "More like a case of 'I'm-a-pouting-little-ass-who doesn't understand-why-my-colleagues-are-so-angry-with-me'-itis, if you ask me."

"Well, whatever it is, it's the best news I've gotten all day," Brutus said and sat down at the desk. "Ain't that right, Paul?"

"Hmm?" His superior responded distantly and looked up from the papers he had been reading. "Oh, yes it is."

Brutus leaned forward to grab himself a sandwich. "What are you reading?

"Just some of Coffey's files."

"What for?"

Paul eyed him. "I assume you aren't missing a good explanation for what he did to Mr. Jingle, since you ask?"

"Not really, no," Brutus said serenely and ended the conversation by taking a massive bite of his corn beef sandwich. Paul watched him in jaded silent for second, before he sighed and put the file away.

"You ready for tonight?"

Brutus couldn't utter a word with his mouth full, so he just nodded.

"That's right, Mr. Bachelor has a date," Harry joined in with a smirk. "God, I would give anything to be a fly on the wall tonight, when you're blushing and stammering your way through the evening, trying to impress her."

"Oh, don't be so hard on him, Harry," Paul said, when Brutus frowned at the old guard. "He's out of practice. Why'd you think me, Dean and the misses are gonna be there?" He winked at Brutus. "So we can whisper lines in his ear, when she ain't looking."

"You guys think you're so funny, don'ya," Brutus mumbled through his mouthful. "Well, I'll show you."

Harry snorted and slapped him on the shoulder. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but unless you stop pussyfooting around her, you won't be able to show us anything, kiddo."

Brutus had to stuff his mouth again to stop himself from bursting out with the truth. The only reason he and Ellie had spend more time apart than together the last two days, was because he was afraid his body would betray him and unconsciously snatch her by the waist and kiss her, whenever she stood to close to him. Not blowing their cover had been his biggest challenge these days and his longing for her had been reduced to stolen touches and quick kisses, when no one was looking. She was driving him insane, but at the same time she was the only reason he could stay sane these days, where prisoners brought busted mice back to life and the echoes of Delacroix gruesome death still resounded under the tin roof. She took up so much of his mind there were barely room for anything else.

"Speaking of your date," Harry said when he sat down to dig into his own lunch. "Where is she?"

"She helping out in the infirmary," Paul said and glared at his pocket watch. "But she said, she would be back for lunch, so she's gonna be here any minute now."

But the lunch break was almost officially over, before Ellie finally appeared, looking exhausted and mildly annoyed.

"There you are – we were about the send out a search party for you," Paul said.

"Sorry, I have been in the OR with doctor Briscoe all morning. An inmate was stabbed in the shower."

"What's the matter?" Brutus asked her concerned, when she sat down next to him. "Did he die?"

She shook her head. "No, he lost a lot of blood and a part of his spleen had to be removed, but he's stabile now." She looked bitter. "But doctor Briscoe has the rest of the day off and his second-in-command doesn't really approve of my present in the infirmary. He bid me a good day, before I had a chance to ask if I could help after lunch."

"Who's second-in-command now? Burt Warner?" Paul said and Ellie nodded. "Well, he's not fond of anyone, if that's a comfort."

"He's a blockhead," said Brutus evenly. "And an incompetent doctor, so I've heard."

"But he's still in charge," Ellie sighed and they couldn't really gainsay that statement.

"Then you can stay here and keep me company," Paul said comforting and handed her the chicken sandwich, they had saved for her. "I know it's not as exciting as a spleen removal, but at least we ain't a bunch of male chauvinists, who doesn't appreciate your hard work. Right?"

"Right," Harry echoed and Brutus smiled at her. It seemed to cheer her up.

"Thank you, guys," she answered with a little smile and stroke Brutus' knee under the table, leaving him with an unbearable longing to touch her back.

Behind the desk the wall clock struck and Harry crumpled his sandwich wrapping paper up.

"Brute, we gotta go, if we have to be done by the time your shift's over." He smirked while getting onto his feet. "It would be such a shame if the laundry kept you from your appointment tonight." Ignoring Brutus' resigned look, he continued cheerfully. "Looking forward to tonight, Ellie?"

She smiled, carefully avoiding eye contact with Brutus. "Yes, I am. I haven't been to a carnival in years."

With a hand on each one of their chairs, Harry bent down between them and spoke to Ellie in a dramatically loud whisper. "You know, it's not too late to back out of it…"

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of that," Ellie responded softly, giving Brutus that look behind Harry's head, the look that could still make him feel like he had swallowed a gallon of boiling hot, sweet tea.

"When's he picking you up?" Paul asked curiously.

"A'right, you guys," Brutus growled and pushed Harry aside, so he could get up. "I'm still here, 'case you haven't notice. And I got it all under control, so mind your own business."

"Okay, okay," Harry chuckled, not able to fight back when Brutus' 6 feet, four inches escorted him out through the door. "I'll try 'n be good. But I expect all the dirty details tomorrow, Paul!"

"I'll see you at six," Brutus said, before closing the door behind them. Ellie smiled.

oOo

"You know we're just teasin' you guys, right?" Paul said, when they were alone.

Ellie smiled. "I know."

"He's really looking forward to tonight," Paul said softly. "I'm glad you decided to say yes to our 'forced-date."

"You didn't have to force me," Ellie said and unwrapped her sandwich. "I'm looking forward to tonight, too. Brutus is a very sweet guy."

"Yes, he is," Paul said, "you won't find anyone better than him," and Ellie couldn't help but to smile at his sober tone. She didn't need any persuasion; she already knew that.

"Is that Coffey's files?" she asked, nodding at the pile next to Paul's plate.

"It sure is," Paul responded, sounding a bit weary. "I've read them a thousand times, but I still can't find anything useful."

"Not even the slightest bit?" Ellie asked, a bit disappointed. Paul had had his head in those files for days now.

"No." Paul rubbed his eyes. "But it feels like I'm missing something. I keep getting caught up in these stupid details: Like all the nonsense about sausages and the little lunch they found in his pocket…"

His voice suddenly died and he stared at Ellie while thunderstruck understanding spread across his face.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered. "The little lunch packet..."

And then without warning, he jumped up from the chair, like the seat had grown teeth and rushed out of the office, causing Ellie to drop her sandwich in surprise.

"Paul?!"

She found him in front of Coffey's cell, when she finally caught up with him. He had knelt down before the bars and was busy removing one of his shoes. Ellie slowed down and stopped in front of the empty cell. If he really had gone mad, it probably wans't smart to stand to close to him.

"Paul, what are you doing?" she asked him warily, when he rose to his feet with the shoe in one hand.

"An experiment," he said and turned his glare into the cell. "John?"

John Coffey had been observing him the entire time, sitting motionless on his bunk. Now he moved his gaze to Paul's face and said softly: "Yes, boss?"

"I want you to do me a favour," Paul said and fixed the shoe between two bars. "I want you to take the shoe and tie it for me. Can you do that, John?"

Coffey rose to his feet and his giant frame towered behind the cell door as he stepped forward and gently grabbed hold of the shoe. Ellie stared at E-blocks superior officer, now more than certain that Paul had now dropped all his marbles. Paul didn't seem to be aware of her look; he stared intensely at Coffey, as the giant took the shoe laces between his fingers.

Whatever it was Paul was up to, he failed completely: Coffey couldn't even make a knot. He stood with the shoe in both of his huge hands, looking both confused and lost. Finally he looked down at Paul.

"I can't, boss," he said softly, sounding both apologetic and sad.

"He can't," Paul repeated quietly and to Ellie's great surprise she saw a spark of something very close to triumph on his face. "He can't do it."

"Paul, you have lost me completely. What's going on?"

Paul asked for his shoe back, before gesturing a retreat to the office. Behind the closed door he sat down at his desk and put his shoe back on.

"When they arrested John Coffey down by the river," he said and straightened in the chair. "They found a lunch packet in his pocket. There were a sandwich and a pickle and one sausage left, though there had been room for more. Later they found leftovers from those exact sausages near the dead Detterick-dog." He looked at her. "Someone had fed the dog sausages, so it would shut up long enough for that person to break it's neck. When the dog was out of the game, he kidnapped the girls."

"Yes, and that person was John Coffey," Ellie said. "We already know that, Paul."

"No," Paul said patiently. "He couldn't have done it. Because when they found the lunch packet, it was wrapped together and tied up with a nice, little bow."

Ellie's eyes widened, when the pieces of the puzzle finally snapped into place.

"Your shoe…" she said, amazed and shocked at the same time. "He can't tie anything."

"Exactly."

"So he couldn't have… How did you even think of that?"

"The man can hardly spell his own name. It would be a wonder, if he knew how to tie a shoe."

"I don't understand why the police haven't thought of that?" Ellie said, shaking her head in a daze.

"Me neither, but the point is: If John Coffey wasn't the one who removed the sausages and killed the dog," Paul said firmly, "then someone else did."

"But who then?" Ellie asked, now horrified by the thought of a child molester still running free.

Paul shrugged. "I don't know. But I'm pretty sure it wasn't John Coffey. I think he found the lunch and the two dead girls. I think he tried to heal them back to life, but failed. You remember what he said, the day the boys brought him in?"

"'I tried to take it back, but it was too late'," Ellie responded in a distant voice. How could she forget that? Those sinister words had been engraved in her mind since the day they were spoken – but it wasn't until now that she understood, that she had read them all wrong. It wasn't his crime he had tried to take back. It was someone else's.

oOo

Mrs. Potter smiled warmly, when Ellie came down the dining room a quarter to six to wait for Brutus.

"Oh, sweet girl, you look wonderful," she exclaimed and waved her hands in the air. "Turn around, turn around!"

Ellie felt like six year old girl again in front of her parents the day she started school, when she spun around on the carpet – even the silly, delightful anxiety was spot on.

"What a beautiful dress," Mrs. Potter said rapt and smoothened an invisible fold on the blue, flower spotted skirt. "Just made to go dancing. Your date's going to be knocked clean of his feet when he sees you."

Ellie couldn't imagine Brutus loosing grounding, but it still made her grin.

The phone rang. Mrs. Potter gave her one last, wide smile, before scooting off to the hallway, leaving Ellie with her growing nervousness, excitement and fluttering thoughts. Ellie could hear her landlady's mumbling answer on the phone, as she kept an eye on the street outside, looking for Brutus' big car to appear in sight. Twelve minutes to six… Dear God, it felt like the hands on the clock moved in slow motion.

"Eleanor," Mrs. Potter called from the hallway. "It's your mother on the phone."

Taken aback, Ellie forced her eyes away from the view outside and walked out to Mrs. Potter.

"My mum?" she repeated, before remembering. "Oh, good Lord, I promised I would call her yesterday!" Taking the waiting mouth piece, she spoke out: "Hello? Mum?"

"Hi, honey."

"Hi. I'm sorry, I had completely forgotten about our agreement."

"Don't worry about it," her mother responded quickly. "Is it a bad time? Mrs. Potter told me, you were going out?"

"I am. I'm going to the carnival in Baton Rouge."

"You are?" her mother asked her innocently. "All alone?"

Ellie smiled. "No. Brutus invited me."

"Oh, sweetheart, how wonderful!"

Ellie rolled her eyes, when she could hear her father in the background and her mother responding, away from the mouth piece: "Your daughter has a date! Yes, I know!" She returned. "So, who is he? Is it one of the guards?"

"Yes, you remember him – Brutus Howell: He was the one, who showed me around on my first day."

The long silence that followed her words at the other end was expected, when her mother recognize the name. Ellie had already been dragged through a third degree about the men at Cold Mountain and specially the guys at E-block had been analyzed to pieces: Married status, looks… and of course: Age.

"Oh," her mother said in a quieter tone. "Yes, I do think I remember him. He was one of the more… experienced men, weren't he?"

"If by 'experienced' you mean 'older' then yes, he is," Ellie responded smoothly, jumping right to the point where her mother so tactfully was heading.

"Not that there is anything wrong with that, but…" Her mother paused. She was already miles ahead, thinking about family and grand children – and how could her daughter achieve all of that with a man who was ten years younger than her own father.

When you meet him, you will forget about all that, Ellie thought with a smile, but she couldn't quite say that: This was still just the first date, as far as her mother was concerned, so she couldn't possibly have those kinds of feelings for him already. So she ended up saying: "Mum, it's just a date."

"I know," her mother responded, but she sounded soothed.

A movement behind her made Ellie turn around. Mrs. Potter waved at her to get her attention.

He's here, she mouthed and Ellie's stomach gave an unexpected jolt of exhilaration.

"Mum, I have to go. He's here."

"Oh! Have a great time, okay!" It almost sounded like a plea. Ellie smiled resignedly.

"I will," she promised. "I will call you tomorrow. Give Daddy a kiss from me. Bye."

"I told him you were almost ready," Mrs. Potter said, when Ellie had hung up. "He's waiting outside."

They walked down to the front door and peaked out through the curtains together.

Mrs. Potter made an appreciative sound and Ellie smiled by the sight of him. He stood leaned up against the bonnet of his wine red Pontiac, arms crossed and with a slight nervy look on his face. It was weird seeing him without his uniform, though it wasn't a bad renewal: He was wearing dark grey trousers and a white, pinstriped shirt that suited his broad shouldered figure more than well.

He looked up when the door opened and his nervous expression disappeared into a full-hearted smile, when he saw her. Ellie's heart fluttered.

"You look so beautiful," he said warmly, when she reached him.

Ellie beamed with glowing cheeks. "Thank you. You don't look to bad yourself either. I just realised I think this is the first time I see you out of your uniform."

"Not true," Brutus answered with a pert smile and lowered his voice, as he opened the car door for her. "I'm pretty sure I wasn't wearing my uniform that night at my house."

She laughed. "I meant out of uniform and normally dressed."

"Oh," he said and Ellie fervently wished that Mrs. Potter who was still peaking through the curtains and everyone else on the street would just look away or close their eyes, so she could kiss that adorable, handsome, conspiratorial smile of his without having to think about getting dirty looks from anyone.