Episode 45 – “Crazy Love”
Previously on the Memoirs of Mayfield: Sylvia Black writes out the invitations for the garden party which she plans to host that weekend. Mr. Green snuffs a man named Mr. Pearl who joined the drug cartel only to report to the police. Unfortunately for Mr. Pearl, he had reported to Inspector Brown, Mr. Green’s new partner. Mrs. Peacock and Colonel Mustard share stories and grow closer. Miss Scarlet talks to her uncle, Professor Plum about her unresolved feelings that she was left with after she and Chandler broke off their relationship. Dante Egret, who is mortified that Mr. Green also snuffed Mr. Pearls wife and two children, goes to visit Julia Oakwood at the convent where he confesses that he wants to be part of their baby’s life. Julia has no interest and tells Dante that he should just adopt their baby after she gives birth. Madame Rose plots her revenge against Mrs. White for lying about her son’s sham death…
-Tuesday, May 10, 1949 –
-Evening-
The front doors of Tudor Close open as Scott and Jet Black enter the house from another day of school. Mr. Ash comes out of the Lounge to greet them.
“Where’s mother?” asks Scott
“I believe she’s in her room resting,” Mr. Ash says
“I need to talk to her,” Scott says
“I’ll go fetch her.” Mr. Ash says
Scott drops his book bag near the front door and walks towards the Lounge. Jet takes a look at the open Study door and sighs. He walks up the grand staircase.
In her bedroom, Sylvia pulls the syringe from her arm as she smiles from the effects of the morphine. She drops the syringe on her vanity and falls back on her bed breathing heavily. Mr. Ash stands in the open doorway and clears his throat.
“Do we have any strawberries?” Sylvia asks as she wraps her arms around a large soft pillow, “I’d love a dish of strawberries and a nice glass of champagne.”
“You’re using again aren’t you?” Mr. Ash asks picking up the syringe and examining it
“I just need a little self-medicating after the troublesome time I’ve had.” Sylvia says
“What if the boys find out about this?” Mr. Ash asks, “I’m not going to lie and cover for you like I did back when you and Hugh were going through some problems.”
“I don’t care if they know.” Sylvia says, “I’m not going to go overboard like I did last time. I’m just going to use a little until I feel completely calm and in control on my life again.”
“How long do you suppose that is going to be?” asks Mr. Ash
“I don’t know,” Sylvia says, “I’m slowly decreasing how much I inject. I’m sure by the garden party I will be off the needle and playing tennis with the good folks of Hampshire!”
“Your youngest son wants to talk to you,” Mr. Ash says, “Though I’m not sure if now would be the best time for him to talk to you.”
“I’m fine,” Sylvia says
“No you aren’t.” Mr. Ash says
“Reggie,” Sylvia says, “I’m fine.”
Mr. Ash hands her the syringe, “If you are really fine, empty the syringe and the bottle.”
“You don’t trust me do you?” asks Sylvia
“I would rather have you break down and cry about what happened last night than drug yourself and pretend that nothing happened.” Mr. Ash says
Sylvia walks over to the vanity drawer and takes out the bottle of morphine. She dumps the liquid into the waste basket and empties the syringe into it as well. She tosses the syringe away.
“Are you happy now?” asks Sylvia
“Yes,” Mr. Ash says, “And in time, you will be too.”
At the Ceil Drive Park, Mrs. Peacock and Colonel Mustard sit on the bench watching the sun make its final descent towards the horizon.
“Isn’t it peaceful?” Mrs. Peacock rests her head on his shoulder
“Who knew the death of one day could leave one feeling complete.” Colonel Mustard comments
“This is the one thing I’ve always wanted to do with my other husbands.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Just sit and watch the sunset.”
“And you never did?” asks Colonel Mustard
“James was always busy at work.” Mrs. Peacock says, “All my second husband, Earnest, ever thought about was sex.”
“What about Matthew?” asks Colonel Mustard
“He was rarely ever home.” Mrs. Peacock says, “And any time he did come home he brought me diamonds and vacations.”
“Weren’t there beautiful sunsets on your vacations with him?” asks Colonel Mustard
“There were,” Mrs. Peacock says, “But the vacations were just for me and the maid. He was always too busy to come on any. I finally convinced him that I wanted to spend some time with him romantically. He was always under stress and work related drama. We only really spent one night together and that was on our third anniversary. That was the night he died of a heart attack.”
“I’m sorry,” Colonel Mustard says
“I wasn’t as attached to Matthew as I would have liked to have been.” Mrs. Peacock says, “He was married to his work. I was just his prize that he showed off at parties.”
“You buried three husbands,” Colonel Mustard says, “Not many women can bury one and be as at ease with their emotions as you are.”
“What about your first wife?” Mrs. Peacock says, “I mean I know all about your second sham wife.”
“Yes,” Colonel Mustard says, “I don’t even like to think of ‘Dame Olivine’ as my wife anymore.”
“So?” asks Mrs. Peacock, “Tell me about your first.”
“Karen was always waiting,” Colonel Mustard says, “Waiting patiently for me to return from war, waiting for me to get home from the bar, waiting for me even after I went to prison. She was devoted. I loved her for her commitment until I realized that’s all it was. She was only with me because she didn’t think divorce was an option. She believed you must always fix what’s broken instead of getting something new. I realized she was only staying with me because that’s what she was taught from her parents, from the church, and from her friends. There wasn’t love after a while. Sure there was a friendship, but the spark of true love that made us fall in love so many years ago was dead. She was a good companion but that was about all. When she was in her mid-forties she began to lose her grip on reality. She started talking to the imaginary children that we never had together. She started setting out food for the dog who died ten years prior. She seemed so set on what she was hoping for in her future that she completely forgot what was really happening around her.”
“The poor dear,” Mrs. Peacock says
“She would get in fights with me about things that I didn’t do.” Colonel Mustard says, “She even went to the lengths of digging up the dead dog. Then one day I had a talk with her and told her that she needed psychiatric help.”
“Did she get any?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“She talked to a psychiatrist for a few months.” Colonel Mustard says, “In the end she shot herself.”
“My god,” Mrs. Peacock puts her hand on Colonel Mustard’s hand.
“I found her sitting on the back porch with a shotgun angled between her knees, pointing up at her head.” Colonel Mustard says, “It was a gruesome sight.”
“What do you think made her snap?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“All those years alone,” Colonel Mustard says, “With me at war and me in prison, all she did during that time was live inside her head, talking to her imaginary children and doing imaginary activities with them.”
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Peacock says
“It’s the past.” Colonel Mustard says, “We can’t change it. We can just hope for the better.”
Mrs. Peacock kisses Colonel Mustard on the lips.
“I’m writing a book you know,” Colonel Mustard says
“About what?” Mrs. Peacock smiles
“My own memoir,” Colonel Mustard says, “All about my life, who I encountered, and the shocking surprises along the way.”
“Am I in it?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“Oh yes,” Colonel Mustard says, “There’s a big portion of it written about the serial killer that stole my heart.”
“I hope you changed the names.” Mrs. Peacock laughs
“Not yet,” Colonel Mustard says, “But don’t worry, it has a long way to go.”
“I’d love to read it some time.” Mrs. Peacock says
“I could read you the first few chapters now if you’d like?” Colonel Mustard suggests
“Are you inviting me into your house?” Mrs. Peacock teases coyly
“I suppose I am.” Colonel Mustard says standing up
“Well,” Mrs. Peacock stands up and feigns disapproval, “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“Why don’t you come over and find out for yourself.” Colonel Mustard whispers into her ear.
At Port Wells Penitentiary, Ms. Lena Hawthorne sits down across from Bradford Black.
“So, Mr. Black,” Ms. Hawthorne says, “Either I wrote down my address incorrectly or you failed to send me the money I asked for.”
“I can’t exactly withdraw money from the bank account from the confinements of Port Wells Penitentiary.” Bradford Black says
“Oh don’t act like you have no resources.” Ms. Hawthorne says, “I know you have one or two friends that would still help you out.”
“My nephew hasn’t come to see me once.” Bradford Black says, “He’s the only one that I trust and he proved untrustworthy over the past few weeks.”
“Well I guess I’ll just have to keep the little gem about what I know all to myself.” Ms. Hawthorne says, “It’s a shame because £500 isn’t a whole lot of money for the secret that I have. But I was willing to sell it to you for that amount.”
“What do you want me to do?” asks Bradford
“Get me the money.” Ms. Hawthorne says
“I can’t get you the money until I’m out of prison.” Bradford says
“The only way you are getting out of prison is if I step forward as a witness.” Ms. Hawthorne says
“Get me out of prison and I’ll pay you ten times what you are asking for.” Bradford says
Ms. Hawthorn leans in and stares at him with her beady little eyes, “Do you think I’m that stupid? I know that the minute you get out of prison you will ring my little neck in order to get out of paying me.”
“Who’s to say I won’t anyway and just take whatever money is left in your purse.” Bradford says
“I think we are through here.” Ms. Hawthorne says standing up and exiting the visitation room.
In the Drawing Room of the Meadow-Brook Home, Jane Meadow-Brook opens the invitation from Sylvia Black. Miles Meadow-Brook comes down the staircase with two suitcases.
“We are cordially invited to attend Sylvia Black’s beginning of summer garden party on Saturday at 2 o’clock. Dress casual.” She reads to him
“Do you think that would be a good time to announce our divorce?” asks Miles
“I’m sure people are suspicious once they see you moving into a cheap motel.” Jane says indicating the suitcases, “But yes I do think it would be the proper thing to announce it publically.”
“So are we going together?” asks Miles
“I suppose we are.” Jane says
“Are you sure about this?” asks Miles
“Well I think it would be in poor taste if I arrive fifteen minutes before you.” Jane says
“No,” Miles says, “I meant about us getting a divorce.”
Jane stares back at the invitation in her hands, “I’ve been over this with you already.”
“I know,” Miles says, “But since everything is laid out in the open…”
“Miles,” Jane says rolling her eyes, “You blackmailed me to stayed married to you. Just because you got teary-eyed and said you were forcing us to stay together because you thought Jessica was coming home isn’t going to make me love you again. You need to do some serious soul searching.”
“And then?” asks Miles
“If you can prove to me that you are not the arrogant, abusive, self-centered, egocentric man that you have been for the past month I might, and I use the word might with a very heavy emphasis on the fact that it is very unlikely, consider taking our relationship back to where it once was.” Jane says
“So do I send in the divorce papers or do I hang onto them until my soul searching is done?” asks Miles
“Send them in.” Jane says, “I don’t want you thinking that you are in control of when this marriage ends and when it doesn’t. If we ever get back together we will renew our vows and be married again, but that is with a very strong emphasis on not very likely.”
Miles turns back to the hallway, “I hope we can one day be like we once were.” He takes the suitcases and exits the house, closing the door behind him.
“I hope so to,” Jane says in the empty house
In the Lounge of Tudor Close, Sylvia Black enters to see Scott sitting in on the sofa with his arms crossed.
“Mr. Ash said that you wanted to talk,” Sylvia sits down next to her son, “I’m here.”
“My friend wasn’t in school today.” Scott says
“Which friend?” Sylvia asks
“Olivia Pearl.” Scott says, “I heard the police talking to the teacher after school. They said that their house was broken into and the whole family is missing.”
“That’s terrible!” Sylvia says, “I’ll have to talk to the school about keeping their talk with the police out of the earshot of students.”
“That’s not what I’m mad about.” Scott says
“What’s wrong then?” asks Sylvia
“Why is everyone being murdered?” asks Scott
“Who said anything about your friend being murdered?” asks Sylvia
“People just don’t disappear,” Scott says
“I don’t know,” Sylvia says putting her arms around him, “I guess everyone is just having a bad time all around.”
“Mother,” Scott says looking up at her, “Do you… do you think we’re going to get killed too?”
“No,” Sylvia says assuredly, “We are a strong family. You survived being kidnapped and you survived last night. Your father must be guarding over you from heaven.”
“Why isn’t he watching over you?” asks Scott with tears in his eyes
“Because he expects me to watch over myself,” Sylvia says with a discontented sigh
On Ceil Drive at Mustard’s Home, Colonel Mustard and Mrs. Peacock drink wine and laugh merrily.
“I wish I’d known you when you were a teenager!” Mrs. Peacock laughs
“I was quite a load of excitement then.” Colonel Mustard says closing chapter three of his memoir
“I should write a book,” Mrs. Peacock says, “But I’d have to kill anyone who ever reads it.”
Colonel Mustard laughs as he gets up, “More wine?”
“Yes please!” Mrs. Peacock says
Colonel Mustard enters the Kitchen to fetch another bottle. He stops as he looks up at a picture of his first wife on the wall. He touches the glass and sighs.
At Dark Hill Sanitarium in the Cafeteria, Sergeant Clement Gray walks to the table holding a tray that carries the dinner of the night. He is wearing his white uniform of all other mentally insane inmates. He sits down and begins to eat the soup slowly. After eating half his soup a woman with straggly blonde hair walks up and sits down across from him.
“You’re the police officer that went crazy aren’t you?” the woman asks
“I don’t really remember much of that night.” Sergeant Gray says, “The doctors are trying to help me remember some things. I remember a few little memories about being a cop.”
“I remember my entire history,” the woman says, “That’s why I’m locked up in here.” She laughs uncomfortably
“Well everyone is here for a reason,” Sergeant Gray says
“That’s what the guards and the doctors are trying to tell us.” The woman says
“They are trying to help us.” Sergeant Gray says
“They drug us so we won’t remember and we’ll end up as brain dead as the carrots in your soup.” The woman says
“Who are you anyway?” asks Sergeant Gray
“Oh how rude of me,” the woman says, “I’m Karen Mustard.”
-Tuesday, May 10, 1949 –
-Evening-
The front doors of Tudor Close open as Scott and Jet Black enter the house from another day of school. Mr. Ash comes out of the Lounge to greet them.
“Where’s mother?” asks Scott
“I believe she’s in her room resting,” Mr. Ash says
“I need to talk to her,” Scott says
“I’ll go fetch her.” Mr. Ash says
Scott drops his book bag near the front door and walks towards the Lounge. Jet takes a look at the open Study door and sighs. He walks up the grand staircase.
In her bedroom, Sylvia pulls the syringe from her arm as she smiles from the effects of the morphine. She drops the syringe on her vanity and falls back on her bed breathing heavily. Mr. Ash stands in the open doorway and clears his throat.
“Do we have any strawberries?” Sylvia asks as she wraps her arms around a large soft pillow, “I’d love a dish of strawberries and a nice glass of champagne.”
“You’re using again aren’t you?” Mr. Ash asks picking up the syringe and examining it
“I just need a little self-medicating after the troublesome time I’ve had.” Sylvia says
“What if the boys find out about this?” Mr. Ash asks, “I’m not going to lie and cover for you like I did back when you and Hugh were going through some problems.”
“I don’t care if they know.” Sylvia says, “I’m not going to go overboard like I did last time. I’m just going to use a little until I feel completely calm and in control on my life again.”
“How long do you suppose that is going to be?” asks Mr. Ash
“I don’t know,” Sylvia says, “I’m slowly decreasing how much I inject. I’m sure by the garden party I will be off the needle and playing tennis with the good folks of Hampshire!”
“Your youngest son wants to talk to you,” Mr. Ash says, “Though I’m not sure if now would be the best time for him to talk to you.”
“I’m fine,” Sylvia says
“No you aren’t.” Mr. Ash says
“Reggie,” Sylvia says, “I’m fine.”
Mr. Ash hands her the syringe, “If you are really fine, empty the syringe and the bottle.”
“You don’t trust me do you?” asks Sylvia
“I would rather have you break down and cry about what happened last night than drug yourself and pretend that nothing happened.” Mr. Ash says
Sylvia walks over to the vanity drawer and takes out the bottle of morphine. She dumps the liquid into the waste basket and empties the syringe into it as well. She tosses the syringe away.
“Are you happy now?” asks Sylvia
“Yes,” Mr. Ash says, “And in time, you will be too.”
At the Ceil Drive Park, Mrs. Peacock and Colonel Mustard sit on the bench watching the sun make its final descent towards the horizon.
“Isn’t it peaceful?” Mrs. Peacock rests her head on his shoulder
“Who knew the death of one day could leave one feeling complete.” Colonel Mustard comments
“This is the one thing I’ve always wanted to do with my other husbands.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Just sit and watch the sunset.”
“And you never did?” asks Colonel Mustard
“James was always busy at work.” Mrs. Peacock says, “All my second husband, Earnest, ever thought about was sex.”
“What about Matthew?” asks Colonel Mustard
“He was rarely ever home.” Mrs. Peacock says, “And any time he did come home he brought me diamonds and vacations.”
“Weren’t there beautiful sunsets on your vacations with him?” asks Colonel Mustard
“There were,” Mrs. Peacock says, “But the vacations were just for me and the maid. He was always too busy to come on any. I finally convinced him that I wanted to spend some time with him romantically. He was always under stress and work related drama. We only really spent one night together and that was on our third anniversary. That was the night he died of a heart attack.”
“I’m sorry,” Colonel Mustard says
“I wasn’t as attached to Matthew as I would have liked to have been.” Mrs. Peacock says, “He was married to his work. I was just his prize that he showed off at parties.”
“You buried three husbands,” Colonel Mustard says, “Not many women can bury one and be as at ease with their emotions as you are.”
“What about your first wife?” Mrs. Peacock says, “I mean I know all about your second sham wife.”
“Yes,” Colonel Mustard says, “I don’t even like to think of ‘Dame Olivine’ as my wife anymore.”
“So?” asks Mrs. Peacock, “Tell me about your first.”
“Karen was always waiting,” Colonel Mustard says, “Waiting patiently for me to return from war, waiting for me to get home from the bar, waiting for me even after I went to prison. She was devoted. I loved her for her commitment until I realized that’s all it was. She was only with me because she didn’t think divorce was an option. She believed you must always fix what’s broken instead of getting something new. I realized she was only staying with me because that’s what she was taught from her parents, from the church, and from her friends. There wasn’t love after a while. Sure there was a friendship, but the spark of true love that made us fall in love so many years ago was dead. She was a good companion but that was about all. When she was in her mid-forties she began to lose her grip on reality. She started talking to the imaginary children that we never had together. She started setting out food for the dog who died ten years prior. She seemed so set on what she was hoping for in her future that she completely forgot what was really happening around her.”
“The poor dear,” Mrs. Peacock says
“She would get in fights with me about things that I didn’t do.” Colonel Mustard says, “She even went to the lengths of digging up the dead dog. Then one day I had a talk with her and told her that she needed psychiatric help.”
“Did she get any?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“She talked to a psychiatrist for a few months.” Colonel Mustard says, “In the end she shot herself.”
“My god,” Mrs. Peacock puts her hand on Colonel Mustard’s hand.
“I found her sitting on the back porch with a shotgun angled between her knees, pointing up at her head.” Colonel Mustard says, “It was a gruesome sight.”
“What do you think made her snap?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“All those years alone,” Colonel Mustard says, “With me at war and me in prison, all she did during that time was live inside her head, talking to her imaginary children and doing imaginary activities with them.”
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Peacock says
“It’s the past.” Colonel Mustard says, “We can’t change it. We can just hope for the better.”
Mrs. Peacock kisses Colonel Mustard on the lips.
“I’m writing a book you know,” Colonel Mustard says
“About what?” Mrs. Peacock smiles
“My own memoir,” Colonel Mustard says, “All about my life, who I encountered, and the shocking surprises along the way.”
“Am I in it?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“Oh yes,” Colonel Mustard says, “There’s a big portion of it written about the serial killer that stole my heart.”
“I hope you changed the names.” Mrs. Peacock laughs
“Not yet,” Colonel Mustard says, “But don’t worry, it has a long way to go.”
“I’d love to read it some time.” Mrs. Peacock says
“I could read you the first few chapters now if you’d like?” Colonel Mustard suggests
“Are you inviting me into your house?” Mrs. Peacock teases coyly
“I suppose I am.” Colonel Mustard says standing up
“Well,” Mrs. Peacock stands up and feigns disapproval, “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“Why don’t you come over and find out for yourself.” Colonel Mustard whispers into her ear.
At Port Wells Penitentiary, Ms. Lena Hawthorne sits down across from Bradford Black.
“So, Mr. Black,” Ms. Hawthorne says, “Either I wrote down my address incorrectly or you failed to send me the money I asked for.”
“I can’t exactly withdraw money from the bank account from the confinements of Port Wells Penitentiary.” Bradford Black says
“Oh don’t act like you have no resources.” Ms. Hawthorne says, “I know you have one or two friends that would still help you out.”
“My nephew hasn’t come to see me once.” Bradford Black says, “He’s the only one that I trust and he proved untrustworthy over the past few weeks.”
“Well I guess I’ll just have to keep the little gem about what I know all to myself.” Ms. Hawthorne says, “It’s a shame because £500 isn’t a whole lot of money for the secret that I have. But I was willing to sell it to you for that amount.”
“What do you want me to do?” asks Bradford
“Get me the money.” Ms. Hawthorne says
“I can’t get you the money until I’m out of prison.” Bradford says
“The only way you are getting out of prison is if I step forward as a witness.” Ms. Hawthorne says
“Get me out of prison and I’ll pay you ten times what you are asking for.” Bradford says
Ms. Hawthorn leans in and stares at him with her beady little eyes, “Do you think I’m that stupid? I know that the minute you get out of prison you will ring my little neck in order to get out of paying me.”
“Who’s to say I won’t anyway and just take whatever money is left in your purse.” Bradford says
“I think we are through here.” Ms. Hawthorne says standing up and exiting the visitation room.
In the Drawing Room of the Meadow-Brook Home, Jane Meadow-Brook opens the invitation from Sylvia Black. Miles Meadow-Brook comes down the staircase with two suitcases.
“We are cordially invited to attend Sylvia Black’s beginning of summer garden party on Saturday at 2 o’clock. Dress casual.” She reads to him
“Do you think that would be a good time to announce our divorce?” asks Miles
“I’m sure people are suspicious once they see you moving into a cheap motel.” Jane says indicating the suitcases, “But yes I do think it would be the proper thing to announce it publically.”
“So are we going together?” asks Miles
“I suppose we are.” Jane says
“Are you sure about this?” asks Miles
“Well I think it would be in poor taste if I arrive fifteen minutes before you.” Jane says
“No,” Miles says, “I meant about us getting a divorce.”
Jane stares back at the invitation in her hands, “I’ve been over this with you already.”
“I know,” Miles says, “But since everything is laid out in the open…”
“Miles,” Jane says rolling her eyes, “You blackmailed me to stayed married to you. Just because you got teary-eyed and said you were forcing us to stay together because you thought Jessica was coming home isn’t going to make me love you again. You need to do some serious soul searching.”
“And then?” asks Miles
“If you can prove to me that you are not the arrogant, abusive, self-centered, egocentric man that you have been for the past month I might, and I use the word might with a very heavy emphasis on the fact that it is very unlikely, consider taking our relationship back to where it once was.” Jane says
“So do I send in the divorce papers or do I hang onto them until my soul searching is done?” asks Miles
“Send them in.” Jane says, “I don’t want you thinking that you are in control of when this marriage ends and when it doesn’t. If we ever get back together we will renew our vows and be married again, but that is with a very strong emphasis on not very likely.”
Miles turns back to the hallway, “I hope we can one day be like we once were.” He takes the suitcases and exits the house, closing the door behind him.
“I hope so to,” Jane says in the empty house
In the Lounge of Tudor Close, Sylvia Black enters to see Scott sitting in on the sofa with his arms crossed.
“Mr. Ash said that you wanted to talk,” Sylvia sits down next to her son, “I’m here.”
“My friend wasn’t in school today.” Scott says
“Which friend?” Sylvia asks
“Olivia Pearl.” Scott says, “I heard the police talking to the teacher after school. They said that their house was broken into and the whole family is missing.”
“That’s terrible!” Sylvia says, “I’ll have to talk to the school about keeping their talk with the police out of the earshot of students.”
“That’s not what I’m mad about.” Scott says
“What’s wrong then?” asks Sylvia
“Why is everyone being murdered?” asks Scott
“Who said anything about your friend being murdered?” asks Sylvia
“People just don’t disappear,” Scott says
“I don’t know,” Sylvia says putting her arms around him, “I guess everyone is just having a bad time all around.”
“Mother,” Scott says looking up at her, “Do you… do you think we’re going to get killed too?”
“No,” Sylvia says assuredly, “We are a strong family. You survived being kidnapped and you survived last night. Your father must be guarding over you from heaven.”
“Why isn’t he watching over you?” asks Scott with tears in his eyes
“Because he expects me to watch over myself,” Sylvia says with a discontented sigh
On Ceil Drive at Mustard’s Home, Colonel Mustard and Mrs. Peacock drink wine and laugh merrily.
“I wish I’d known you when you were a teenager!” Mrs. Peacock laughs
“I was quite a load of excitement then.” Colonel Mustard says closing chapter three of his memoir
“I should write a book,” Mrs. Peacock says, “But I’d have to kill anyone who ever reads it.”
Colonel Mustard laughs as he gets up, “More wine?”
“Yes please!” Mrs. Peacock says
Colonel Mustard enters the Kitchen to fetch another bottle. He stops as he looks up at a picture of his first wife on the wall. He touches the glass and sighs.
At Dark Hill Sanitarium in the Cafeteria, Sergeant Clement Gray walks to the table holding a tray that carries the dinner of the night. He is wearing his white uniform of all other mentally insane inmates. He sits down and begins to eat the soup slowly. After eating half his soup a woman with straggly blonde hair walks up and sits down across from him.
“You’re the police officer that went crazy aren’t you?” the woman asks
“I don’t really remember much of that night.” Sergeant Gray says, “The doctors are trying to help me remember some things. I remember a few little memories about being a cop.”
“I remember my entire history,” the woman says, “That’s why I’m locked up in here.” She laughs uncomfortably
“Well everyone is here for a reason,” Sergeant Gray says
“That’s what the guards and the doctors are trying to tell us.” The woman says
“They are trying to help us.” Sergeant Gray says
“They drug us so we won’t remember and we’ll end up as brain dead as the carrots in your soup.” The woman says
“Who are you anyway?” asks Sergeant Gray
“Oh how rude of me,” the woman says, “I’m Karen Mustard.”