Good morning. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter twenty-one of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week my novelist took me on a trip to visit one of her relatives. They live in a pleasant little apartment which I got to know well. My novelist and her relative had to go out a couple of times and I was left to explore. It is always a delightful and uneasy experience to be left alone in a new place. But I found it to be pleasant and comfortable. I’d had a good breakfast before we left that day and so I was not hungry. My novelist’s relative made sure I had a cool bowl of water to drink should I get thirsty. Across the street there is a convenience store which is interesting to view from the apartment window. From what I understand someone once ran their car into said store, and it was closed for a while. I sat on the back of a chair to see if anything intriguing was happening. Alas, all I witnessed were customers going in and getting coffee, icy drinks and occasionally a pastry. But I still enjoyed the action. I do believe I would have made a fabulous stakeout detective. I could bark notes into a recorder as I describe what I see. I could put visual clues together and maybe even sneak into the convenience store to get a better look, hide in the shelves and such. Wouldn’t that be exciting? And with that thought, here is chapter twenty-one of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Enjoy!  

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Twenty-One

Fia was not impressed with Curtis’s idea of having freedom to move about the place. At six AM today he escorted her out of the guestroom and back to the attic where he locked the door behind her. After she heard him leave the cabin and drive off, she flipped on the light and began looking around the place. She thought about what Curtis had said about creating a performance art piece. Just by looking around it was obvious there were a lot of potential props as well as a few sculptures and paintings.

She had noticed a wooden wardrobe against the far wall earlier. She wandered over to it, opened the door and looked around inside. All the clothes were made of thick sturdy fabric. Out of style obviously but well-made. She tried on a couple of dresses and found herself drawn to a chartreuse colored one made of silk. She assumed the dress was probably worn by Curtis’s aunt to art galleries or possibly a cocktail party. She also found a bright white fur stole. Fox, she assumed. She wrapped the stole around her shoulders. It had a silk lining that moved like cool water against her skin. Fia continued hunting around the wardrove and found an old hat box. Inside was a bright white fox fur hat which she imagined matched the stole. Yes, she thought. This would work well. She started rifling through some nearby boxes that looked like they contained shoes hoping for a pair of pumps. But all she found were a pair of well-worn sandals and a pile of receipts.

She closed the wardrobe and perused the artwork around the room. She was drawn to a bright red sculpture that looked like a vase unraveling or coming together. She also found a set of three small, framed panels that worked together to form an abstract piece. There was also a sculpture of a turtle with a blue body and legs and a burnt orange shell. The head appeared to be facing the wrong way and it was large enough to double as a footstool.

Near the turtle was something covered with a white tarp. Fia grabbed the tarp with both hands and dragged it off the object to reveal a wild looking chair with wires bending in all directions. The seat and back were glossy and had mother of pearl inlay in floral designs. The wires, as she looked closer, were gradient in color going from cherry red to the major color of the piece: jet black. She knew instantly this shocking vision must be worth a fortune.

The chair could be an interesting focus for her piece. Almost a statement on the madness she had experienced over the past twenty-four hours. The backwards facing turtle could double as a footstool.

Now for the props. It is difficult to express a performance art piece without props. Not impossible, but difficult. And then there was the history behind the props. How did they come into one’s possession? What is the history behind them. Why did someone make the object and why was someone compelled to own it? Or was it a gift? What are the props the audience sees and what does the character hide in her pocket, her backpack, her purse. How do the props affect her?

Perhaps she should first look for a pen and paper to write down these thoughts since Curtis had stolen her phone and likely hidden it. Would his eclectic aunt have such pedestrian things in her attic? Fia headed over to the old desk that stood on the adjacent wall to the wardrobe. She started opening the drawers and rummaging around. They appeared to be empty except for the bottom one which had a ledger in it with a pen attached to the side by a stretch-band loop. She slid the pen out of the loop and opened the ledger.

Inside she found a list of purchases. Some were quite high. But as she flipped through and studied the pages closer, she noticed that the sales of the art pieces far outweighed the price Curtis’s aunt had paid for them. And from the number of sales, Fia started to realize Aunt Odette was more than just a casual collector. It was clear that cuts of the sales had gone to auction houses. But the gains still outweighed the original costs.

Suddenly, she heard the doorbell ring. The sound startled her so much she nearly lost her balance. It took Fia a moment before she screamed, “Help! Help me!” She grabbed any object within her reach and began banging the wall. The doorbell rang again, and she tried to make a louder noise. “Help! I’m trapped in the attic!” The doorbell rang a third time. “I’m here! Help! Help! Help!”

She waited. No sound. “No, no, no! Come back! Come back!”

When she realized the person had left, she slumped to the floor, wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them tightly. She could have gotten out if only they had heard her. She would need to somehow persuade Curtis to trust her, believe that she had come around to his way of thinking. If she could do that perhaps he would give her free reign of the house and the person who came by today may come by again and help her escape.

Curtis arrived at the cabin around seven-thirty that evening, later than he would have liked. He’d have to hurry if he was going to get Fia something to eat and be able to put together the second ransom note and deliver it to Mr. Dupree tonight. He had stopped by the duplex after work to make it seem like he was staying there. His neighbor Earl was hanging out on his front porch when Curtis pulled into the driveway.

“Hey, buddy,” Earl said when Curtis disembarked the Honda. “How’s it been going since Haven…” He trailed off as if the subject was too sensitive to bring up.

“I miss her every day,” Curtis replied, a genuine lump in his throat.

“I notice you’ve been keeping to yourself these past couple of days.”

“I have.”

“Well…if you ever want to come over and hang out, watch the ball game, you’re welcome to stop by.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Curtis headed inside his unit. He should have known on Friday night Earl would be sitting on his porch. Now he’d either be forced to come up with an excuse to leave or wait for Earl to leave, which seemed unlikely.

And then the unthinkable happened. About a half an hour later a woman drove up into Earl’s driveway in a red Ford Fiesta. Curtis heard the engine and peered out the window. The woman had long dark brown hair and was wearing a short skirt and tennis shoes. She marched up to Earl, cocked her head to one side, her wide-necked sweatshirt sliding off her bare shoulder as if she was daring him to disagree with her. Earl shrugged, got up out of his chair, followed her to the Fiesta and they got in and left. Curtis grabbed his keys, hurried out to his car, and took off.

When Curtis got inside the cabin, he scurried into the kitchen. He opened the bottom drawer by the sink where Aunt Odette kept her cookbooks and took out a small orange one. They were the only books she didn’t have neatly filed on her bookshelves in her office. He reached into the cupboard and retrieved three cans of clams, a package of thin spaghetti, and a jar of capers.

He opened the refrigerator and took out a pound of Roma tomatoes and fresh parsley. He flipped to a recipe before dicing the tomatoes. Then he snatched the brown paper bag of white mushrooms he had sitting on the counter and began slicing them. He opened the three cans of clams before grabbing a pot, filling it with water, adding salt and setting it on the stove to boil. Then he put a twelve-inch frying pan on the stove and proceeded to make the sauce.

After Curtis finished boiling the pasta al-dente he put it into two bowls. He chopped the parsley, took the pan and a large wooden spoon, and proceeded to pour the sauce over the pasta. Then he finished it with the parsley. He took his bowl to the table before grabbing a cloth napkin and a fork and set those beside it. He grabbed the other bowl, headed up the stairs, and knocked on the attic door.

“I’ve brought you dinner,” he said. “I’m sorry I was late. I know you must be starving.”

Fia felt all the hairs on her neck stand up, but she remained calm. “Okay,” she said.

Curtis unlocked the door, quickly flipped on the light, and looked around. He noticed the place appeared to be more…organized. Fia must have gotten bored and rearranged things. “Clam pasta tonight,” he said. “A perfect dish for the lactose intolerant.”

Fia had an overwhelming desire to tell him she was also allergic to seafood but resisted the temptation. “Sounds good.”

“Oh, no.”

“What?”

“I just realized I forgot to pick up a baguette at the bakery.”

“It’s not a problem.”

Curtis moved over to the table and chairs and set the bowl of pasta down and put a fork wrapped in a cloth napkin beside it.

“What are you having?”

“Same thing.”

She nodded. A silence fell between them.

“I should tell you,” Curtis finally said, “your father got the first ransom note this morning.”

“How many are you planning on sending him?”

“He’s concerned about you. He called the police immediately, but they can’t consider you a missing person until you’ve been missing twenty-four hours.”

“No wonder people go missing. The law makes it so no one can look for you.”

“But they’re looking for you now.”

“Are they going to find me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I have no intention of…”

A silence fell between them again.

“Enjoy your pasta,” Curtis finally said and started heading towards the door.

“What if we ate together tonight?”

Curtis stopped and turned back towards her.

MY BOOKS

You can check out my books Chicane and all five installments of the Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!, Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!, Musicology: Volume Three, Twist!, Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! and Musicology: The Epiquad on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. You can also check out Musicology’s web site at www.musicologyrocks.com and vote for who you think will win Musicology!

STREAM OF THE WEEK: ANATOMY OF A FALL (2023)-HULU

This week’s pick won the Palme d’Or for Best Film and a BAFTA, a Golden Globe, and an Oscar this year for Best Original Screenplay for writers Justine Triet (who also directs) and Arthur Harari and puts an interesting twist on the classic courtroom drama. One day successful writer Sandra Voyter (Sandra Hüller) is being interviewed by young Zoé Solidor (Camille Rutherford) about her career. As the interview progresses, Sandra appears to be oddly elated. But soon we can hear loud music in the background which clearly irritates Sandra. After hearing the song is on loop, Sandra asks the interview stop.

As Zoé heads home, Sandra’s young son Daniel, who was injured and left half-blind in an accident, takes his seeing-eye dog Snoop for a walk in the snow. When he returns, he is shocked to find his father Samuel Maleski (Samuel Theis) dead in the snow, apparently from a fall from the top floor of the chalet they live in where he has been doing construction. Daniel then runs inside and alerts his mother who apparently has been sleeping. An autopsy is done on Samuel which reveals that he was killed by something that struck his head most likely before he fell. Murder is presumed and Sandra, the only other person who was home at the time, becomes a suspect. She then contacts her friend and lawyer Maître Vincent Renzi (Swann Arlaud) to defend her.

Rounding out the cast are Jehnny Beth as Marge Berger, Daniel’s court appointed guardian and Antoine Reinartz as the opposing lawyer Avocat general.