S1 E7 – Musical Thoughts, Musical Chairs
Part 1 of 3
Moment #1
As DS Bordey listens to the discussion about Solly's music, a phrase catches her attention… 'an uncharted map'. She keeps her head down, hearing that dulcet English accent say it, and the thought boils up… That's YOU, Richard! You're an uncharted map… with no reference points or directions! I want SO badly to explore but I have no clue how to start!
And DI Poole can hardly keep his eyes off her as his brain whispers… You, madam, YOU are an uncharted map if ever there was one! How I want to learn your mysteries! Moments later, when she snarks 'You have no romance in your soul', his skin rashes up into what passes for goose bumps here in this god-forsaken place and he shudders, Oh, Camille, you have NO idea!
Moment #2
There is the odd quiet moment during a case when the phone isn't ringing off the hook, faxes aren't spilling onto the floor, and computer screens aren't pinging like crazy. It's just such a moment when DI Poole pushes back from his desk, clasps his hands behind his head, and stares up into the rafters, softly humming something and thinking.
DS Bordey watches all this hotly without looking up. She knows the exact moment when his regard drops down to rest upon her because now it's her turn for goose bumps. Still, she waits a few moments before murmuring absent-mindedly, "What?"
"Solly," he murmurs back, "I'm at a bit of a loss. Dwayne says Solly only wrote about two things; monsters and women. What does that mean… monsters?"
She shrugs minutely, keeps writing, "I always thought it meant men."
She can hear his eyebrows lift. "Men? Men aren't…" then he cocks his head as his eyes go a bit hazy, "Oh, um, yes, I see your point." He sits up alertly, "But what if women are the monsters, using feminine wiles against men? Was he blaming women for his own weakness? Or playing down women's power of enchantment?"
She shrugs again, "Maybe he was trying to feel powerful? In control? Blameless?"
He settles back with a sigh, "Could be. I don't think men understand women very well. Perhaps his music was an attempt to make sense of it all, to explain the difference between us?"
She taps the end of her pen onto her chin, "There's nothing to explain, women are people same as men. We want what you want."
Sensing a golden opportunity, he pulls a fresh sheet of paper towards himself, uncaps his pen, and looks up expectantly, "Really? And what's that?"
Sensing an equally golden opportunity, she smiles small, "Peace and quiet, freedom of choice, happiness and love." Then she leans forward and mutters, "And you can add a tidy little house, home-cooked meals, evenings in, and lots and lots of canoodling with the man of my heart."
He is writing furiously, "… house… meals… evenings in… and lots and lots of canoo…" His pen stops. He stares down at the half word, swallows, and flips the sheet over. "Right," he barks grumpily, "moving on, where are we with those witness statements?"
She keeps her face impassive as she brings him a nice safe stack of paper to hide behind.
Moment #3
DI Poole has come to beard the widow in her own den. Just because Fidel let her cry her way out of giving a witness statement and she's had time to bag up all her deceased husband's clothing doesn't mean she'll have such an easy time of it with DI POOLE!
He comes on stern and gruff and asks her about shoes! There, that ought to throw her! I like to keep potential suspects off balance and… What? Only TWO pairs of shoes? What kind of woman owns just two…? He glances down to the pair by the door then to the widow's feet, thrown slightly off balance. Her next question catches him sideways. What? Is there another item of clothing I'd like to see? He's thrown even further off balance as he struggles to get his thoughts back on a professional track but then they go whirling off into visions of black lace (or possibly rose pink) with maybe a lovely little bit of ribbon just there…
He shakes his head, strenuously quashing the images, and keeps his eyes off his DS as if his life depends on it! Moments later, he's almost regained his equilibrium when the widow throws him for a third loop. What? Do I want her weeping and wailing on my shoulder? Is she asking me to comfort her? Take her in my arms? Is she coming ON to me? And in front of Camille?! Oh, please don't let Camille think I'm one of THOSE types of men!
He jinks worried eyes to his DS but she appears to assume he's just being his usual awkward self with women and takes over the interview. Whew, saved by the belle dame!
Moment #4
Later, when the team retires to La Kaz for a celebratory drink over finding Solly's prints on the gun, Richard finds himself sitting too close to Camille for comfort but he manfully endures the torment until her knee accidentally brushes against his and he stands abruptly. "Pardon me," he chuffs, "I'm… er… feeling a bit unsettled. I think I'll sit outside in the shade, let the breezes cool me down."
As he moves away, hot eyes run over him. There isn't a wind big enough anywhere to cool YOU down, she thinks, hoping her momentary weakness with her knee hadn't registered with him.
His distancing himself settles his nerves and his mind return to the case… where he hits upon the gunpowder residue test only a few minutes later than it would normally have taken him. Whether he understands Solly's music or not, such is the power of a woman's enchantment.
END – part 1