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31_days2012-10-14 12:48 pm
insaneladybug.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2012-10-14 12:48 pm
[October 14th] [Perry Mason] Do the Words I Say Ever Make It Through?, 7
Title: Do the Words I Say Ever Make It Through?, part 7
Day/Theme: October 14th - Who is to Blame for This Secret Disarray
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Lieutenant Anderson, Mignon Germaine, Erna Norden
Rating: T/PG-13
Cross-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
octoberwriting.
By Lucky_Ladybug
Mignon was with Mrs. Norden when Andy hastened back to the apartment. The door was slightly ajar while Mrs. Norden kept a hand on the knob, and as Andy drew closer, he could hear most of the conversation.
“Andy went to see Jimmy. He should be back soon.”
Mignon crossed the floor and picked up the paper from the table. “This is Lieutenant Anderson’s handwriting?”
“Yes!” Mrs. Norden declared. “I felt him here, Mrs. Germaine. It was my Andy.”
She paused, turning slightly towards the door. “Andy?” she called softly. “Are you back?”
Andy approached her, although he had little hope of being heard. “Yes, Mama,” he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. He was relieved when it held instead of passing through. “I’m here.”
Mrs. Norden smiled. “He is here,” she said, looking to Mignon. “Can you sense him, Mrs. Germaine?”
Mignon came closer, silent as she took in the scene and the feeling in the air. “I can sense a presence,” she said. “I’ll trust that you know it’s Lieutenant Anderson.”
She looked about the room. “Lieutenant, are you able to write, as you did earlier?”
Andy frowned. Maybe he should try again, just to check. He crossed to the table and grabbed for the pen, but could not keep hold of it. In frustration he shook his head. “No. No, I can’t.”
Mignon was again silent, seeming to be drawing on the pulse of the energy, or whatever it was she was sensing. “Something is wrong,” she said at last. “He’s distressed.”
Mrs. Norden’s eyes widened in worry. “What is it?” she exclaimed. “What is wrong, Andy?”
“He isn’t writing,” Mignon remarked. “Maybe he can’t now?”
“I don’t understand why not,” Mrs. Norden protested. “What would be different now?”
“I don’t know,” Mignon mused. She went back to the table, again reading over the messages Andy had left. “I’ve never heard of such a spell as what he’s describing.”
“Then you don’t know of any way to break it?” Mrs. Norden cried in dismay.
“Offhand, I’m afraid not,” Mignon said. “But I can certainly try to get in touch with him anyway.”
“Oh yes,” Mrs. Norden nodded. “Please do!”
Mignon set the papers aside. “May I use this table?”
“Of course, of course,” Mrs. Norden assured. “Do whatever you must.”
Mignon nodded. “I should warn you, Mrs. Norden, if what Lieutenant Anderson says is the truth, I likely will not be able to make contact with him at all. The only method I can use is for reaching the dead, which he says he is not.”
Mrs. Norden considered her words and finally nodded her consent. “Then I will be relieved if you cannot reach him,” she said. “I will keep thinking he is alive.”
Andy watched in morbid fascination as Mignon set out her candles and began her ritual. A shiver ran down his spine as he sat on the opposite side of the table.
After a moment she opened her eyes. “Lieutenant Anderson,” she called. “Are you still here?”
“Yes!” Andy cried. “Yes, I’m here.” He was not sure whether to pray that Mignon would hear him or that she would not. He laid his hands, palms-down, on the table. “I just want to be with everyone again, to have them know I’m here. I just want to be alive. Please . . .”
“Lieutenant, I still can’t hear you,” Mignon told him. “I can feel your anguish, but I don’t have a clear image of what you’re saying.”
Andy sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t know whether that’s good or bad.”
Mrs. Norden bit her lip. “If only we knew who is behind this!” She looked pleadingly to Mignon. “Do you know of anyone who might have the power to cast such a wicked spell?”
Mignon looked back. “There are several who might be capable of it,” she said slowly.
“That Box has been buried, though, so they surely could not be using that,” Mrs. Norden said.
“It would be good to examine its hiding place, to be sure,” Mignon said. “But most likely they are using a different article of evil.”
She sighed, leaning back in the chair. “The largest point of confusion for me is understanding who would have anything to gain from such a cruel and malevolent act. The people I am aware of have most likely never met Lieutenant Anderson and would have no reason to cast such a hurtful spell.”
Mrs. Norden’s eyes flickered with worry. “What if some of them have met him? Maybe they dislike police officers and he said or did something that they took wrong.”
Mignon pondered on that for a moment and then nodded, reaching for a fresh piece of paper. “Lieutenant Anderson, here are the names of those people,” she announced. “Please go over this list and try to communicate if any name seems familiar.” Her hand flew across the page and she soon pushed it out into the center of the table.
Unable to grab it, Andy leaned forward to study its contents. But he could only give it a blank stare. None of the names were familiar to him in the least.
“I don’t see how it could be any of them,” he said. “Not unless they know someone I may have arrested or killed.” He looked up, watching Mignon to see if his words had made an impression at all.
Her brow was furrowed in her concentration. “I can only sense confusion,” she said. “I don’t think he recognizes the names.”
Mrs. Norden sighed sadly. “Maybe there is still a connection somehow,” she said. “Andy would try to find out if these people know someone he knows.”
Mignon nodded. “That’s possible,” she agreed. “We could ask Lieutenant Tragg or Lieutenant Drumm to investigate. But what would we tell them as to why we wanted it done? Would they believe these messages as being what Lieutenant Anderson wrote?”
“. . . I don’t know,” Mrs. Norden admitted. “But I think they would want to know about them.”
“Then we can try telling them,” Mignon said.
Andy sighed and frowned. He was unsure how they would react, especially Lieutenant Drumm. Tragg, he felt, might stubbornly refuse to believe it, at least at first. He would not want to be caught up in a hope that could ultimately prove void and crushing. But then, if he could bring himself to take a leap of faith and believe it later, he would be bound and determined to find a way to restore Andy to them. He wouldn’t give up until that was accomplished.
Or until his life was over, if there wasn’t a way to accomplish it.
Andy swallowed hard and turned away.
“We must tell Jimmy, too,” Mrs. Norden said now.
“Of course,” Mignon nodded. “Maybe he would have an idea of who might be responsible for this.”
“I don’t think so, but oh! Someone must know!” Mrs. Norden wrung her hands in despair. “Someone has to know.
“Don’t worry, Andy,” she called to the room. “We will find a way to help you. I promise!”
Andy managed a weak, sad smile. “If there is a way, I know you’ll find it, Mama.” He gazed sadly across the room. “I just hope it’s in time, if I really only have until Halloween.”
Day/Theme: October 14th - Who is to Blame for This Secret Disarray
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Lieutenant Anderson, Mignon Germaine, Erna Norden
Rating: T/PG-13
Cross-posted to
octoberwriting.Mignon was with Mrs. Norden when Andy hastened back to the apartment. The door was slightly ajar while Mrs. Norden kept a hand on the knob, and as Andy drew closer, he could hear most of the conversation.
“Andy went to see Jimmy. He should be back soon.”
Mignon crossed the floor and picked up the paper from the table. “This is Lieutenant Anderson’s handwriting?”
“Yes!” Mrs. Norden declared. “I felt him here, Mrs. Germaine. It was my Andy.”
She paused, turning slightly towards the door. “Andy?” she called softly. “Are you back?”
Andy approached her, although he had little hope of being heard. “Yes, Mama,” he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. He was relieved when it held instead of passing through. “I’m here.”
Mrs. Norden smiled. “He is here,” she said, looking to Mignon. “Can you sense him, Mrs. Germaine?”
Mignon came closer, silent as she took in the scene and the feeling in the air. “I can sense a presence,” she said. “I’ll trust that you know it’s Lieutenant Anderson.”
She looked about the room. “Lieutenant, are you able to write, as you did earlier?”
Andy frowned. Maybe he should try again, just to check. He crossed to the table and grabbed for the pen, but could not keep hold of it. In frustration he shook his head. “No. No, I can’t.”
Mignon was again silent, seeming to be drawing on the pulse of the energy, or whatever it was she was sensing. “Something is wrong,” she said at last. “He’s distressed.”
Mrs. Norden’s eyes widened in worry. “What is it?” she exclaimed. “What is wrong, Andy?”
“He isn’t writing,” Mignon remarked. “Maybe he can’t now?”
“I don’t understand why not,” Mrs. Norden protested. “What would be different now?”
“I don’t know,” Mignon mused. She went back to the table, again reading over the messages Andy had left. “I’ve never heard of such a spell as what he’s describing.”
“Then you don’t know of any way to break it?” Mrs. Norden cried in dismay.
“Offhand, I’m afraid not,” Mignon said. “But I can certainly try to get in touch with him anyway.”
“Oh yes,” Mrs. Norden nodded. “Please do!”
Mignon set the papers aside. “May I use this table?”
“Of course, of course,” Mrs. Norden assured. “Do whatever you must.”
Mignon nodded. “I should warn you, Mrs. Norden, if what Lieutenant Anderson says is the truth, I likely will not be able to make contact with him at all. The only method I can use is for reaching the dead, which he says he is not.”
Mrs. Norden considered her words and finally nodded her consent. “Then I will be relieved if you cannot reach him,” she said. “I will keep thinking he is alive.”
Andy watched in morbid fascination as Mignon set out her candles and began her ritual. A shiver ran down his spine as he sat on the opposite side of the table.
After a moment she opened her eyes. “Lieutenant Anderson,” she called. “Are you still here?”
“Yes!” Andy cried. “Yes, I’m here.” He was not sure whether to pray that Mignon would hear him or that she would not. He laid his hands, palms-down, on the table. “I just want to be with everyone again, to have them know I’m here. I just want to be alive. Please . . .”
“Lieutenant, I still can’t hear you,” Mignon told him. “I can feel your anguish, but I don’t have a clear image of what you’re saying.”
Andy sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t know whether that’s good or bad.”
Mrs. Norden bit her lip. “If only we knew who is behind this!” She looked pleadingly to Mignon. “Do you know of anyone who might have the power to cast such a wicked spell?”
Mignon looked back. “There are several who might be capable of it,” she said slowly.
“That Box has been buried, though, so they surely could not be using that,” Mrs. Norden said.
“It would be good to examine its hiding place, to be sure,” Mignon said. “But most likely they are using a different article of evil.”
She sighed, leaning back in the chair. “The largest point of confusion for me is understanding who would have anything to gain from such a cruel and malevolent act. The people I am aware of have most likely never met Lieutenant Anderson and would have no reason to cast such a hurtful spell.”
Mrs. Norden’s eyes flickered with worry. “What if some of them have met him? Maybe they dislike police officers and he said or did something that they took wrong.”
Mignon pondered on that for a moment and then nodded, reaching for a fresh piece of paper. “Lieutenant Anderson, here are the names of those people,” she announced. “Please go over this list and try to communicate if any name seems familiar.” Her hand flew across the page and she soon pushed it out into the center of the table.
Unable to grab it, Andy leaned forward to study its contents. But he could only give it a blank stare. None of the names were familiar to him in the least.
“I don’t see how it could be any of them,” he said. “Not unless they know someone I may have arrested or killed.” He looked up, watching Mignon to see if his words had made an impression at all.
Her brow was furrowed in her concentration. “I can only sense confusion,” she said. “I don’t think he recognizes the names.”
Mrs. Norden sighed sadly. “Maybe there is still a connection somehow,” she said. “Andy would try to find out if these people know someone he knows.”
Mignon nodded. “That’s possible,” she agreed. “We could ask Lieutenant Tragg or Lieutenant Drumm to investigate. But what would we tell them as to why we wanted it done? Would they believe these messages as being what Lieutenant Anderson wrote?”
“. . . I don’t know,” Mrs. Norden admitted. “But I think they would want to know about them.”
“Then we can try telling them,” Mignon said.
Andy sighed and frowned. He was unsure how they would react, especially Lieutenant Drumm. Tragg, he felt, might stubbornly refuse to believe it, at least at first. He would not want to be caught up in a hope that could ultimately prove void and crushing. But then, if he could bring himself to take a leap of faith and believe it later, he would be bound and determined to find a way to restore Andy to them. He wouldn’t give up until that was accomplished.
Or until his life was over, if there wasn’t a way to accomplish it.
Andy swallowed hard and turned away.
“We must tell Jimmy, too,” Mrs. Norden said now.
“Of course,” Mignon nodded. “Maybe he would have an idea of who might be responsible for this.”
“I don’t think so, but oh! Someone must know!” Mrs. Norden wrung her hands in despair. “Someone has to know.
“Don’t worry, Andy,” she called to the room. “We will find a way to help you. I promise!”
Andy managed a weak, sad smile. “If there is a way, I know you’ll find it, Mama.” He gazed sadly across the room. “I just hope it’s in time, if I really only have until Halloween.”