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DrWatson
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Stormy Night, epilogue
It Was A Dark And Stormy Night -- Epilogue
It was a mild and balmy night. Big Al Rostropovich sat at his desk, absently shuffling a stack of papers. He couldn't believe that he had gotten away with it. How well he remembered being on neighborhood patrol that night, when he noticed the rented sports car pulling up in front of Dick Button's house. Of course he knew Button well. As Chief of Police of that small town he knew many of the residents on a first name basis. Besides, Rostropovich had a passionate interest in figure skating, and he especially followed the careers of skaters from his native Russia. He cast his mind back to the fateful evening:
How surprised he had been when the car door opened and out stepped non other than his idol, the incomparable Irina Slutskaya. Irina! the treasure of his secret heart! What was Irina Slutskaya doing there in the middle of the night? Big Al wondered.
Coasting the police cruiser to a silent stop, he waited some minutes in uncertainty. Music began to play. At last he could suppress his curiosity no longer. He eased himself out of the patrol car and approached the front porch. Peering in through the window, he saw a most unexpected sight. Dick Button was threatening Irina with a pistol, while the beautiful Irina was doing her best to hold him off with a whip! Adrenalin coursed through his body as he hurled himself at the door, breaking it inward. With a single shot from his police issue 38, he dropped Button in his tracks.
Irina screamed.
"Who are you, what are you doing? No, no!"
Too late. In the instant it was clear that this was merely some innocent play-acting that he had barged in on.
"He was just helping me with my routine!" Irina sobbed over the dying man.
The cover-up had been easy. Ms. Slutskaya, coming from a culture where one did not contradict the police, was quickly cowed into going along. Fortune seemed to smile upon him when Hughes arrived, just in time to be “caught” by Rostropovich, who circled around from the back when he first heard her approach. Then Kwan and Cohen, approaching the back porch from opposite sides, had accidentally collided, causing even more confusion. Back-up having now been called for, the girls waited in the squad cars while Rostropovich arranged the crime scene to suit his purposes. Later, it had been easy enough for him to prepare a phony ballistics report and to plant the gloves.
Yes, he had gotten away with it. Nothing could go wrong now, as long as his beloved Irina remained intimidated into silence.
Oh, Irina, Irina. I did it all for you!
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Epilogue to the epilogue.
BAM! the door to Rostropovich’s office burst open, and in rushed the Gang of Four -- Sasha and Sarah, brandishing their skates as weapons, a la Cast Away; Irina with her whip; and Michelle, a graceful tapering finger curled delicately yet firmly around the trigger of the Colt 45!
“Big Al,” they announced in unison. “you’re under citizens’ arrest!"
Then the ladies stepped aside to reveal in the doorway the staunch figure of none other than Mr. Dick Button, a cherubic smile gracing his avuncular face. Yes, he had survived!
“Well done, girls,” beamed Dick Button. “First rate, simply the best, A1. And as for you, Big Al,
THE GIGUE IS UP ! "
And they all lived happily ever after, except Peggy Fleming, who had to go back into the broadcast booth with him.
REALLY AND TRULY THE END
It Was A Dark And Stormy Night -- Epilogue
It was a mild and balmy night. Big Al Rostropovich sat at his desk, absently shuffling a stack of papers. He couldn't believe that he had gotten away with it. How well he remembered being on neighborhood patrol that night, when he noticed the rented sports car pulling up in front of Dick Button's house. Of course he knew Button well. As Chief of Police of that small town he knew many of the residents on a first name basis. Besides, Rostropovich had a passionate interest in figure skating, and he especially followed the careers of skaters from his native Russia. He cast his mind back to the fateful evening:
How surprised he had been when the car door opened and out stepped non other than his idol, the incomparable Irina Slutskaya. Irina! the treasure of his secret heart! What was Irina Slutskaya doing there in the middle of the night? Big Al wondered.
Coasting the police cruiser to a silent stop, he waited some minutes in uncertainty. Music began to play. At last he could suppress his curiosity no longer. He eased himself out of the patrol car and approached the front porch. Peering in through the window, he saw a most unexpected sight. Dick Button was threatening Irina with a pistol, while the beautiful Irina was doing her best to hold him off with a whip! Adrenalin coursed through his body as he hurled himself at the door, breaking it inward. With a single shot from his police issue 38, he dropped Button in his tracks.
Irina screamed.
"Who are you, what are you doing? No, no!"
Too late. In the instant it was clear that this was merely some innocent play-acting that he had barged in on.
"He was just helping me with my routine!" Irina sobbed over the dying man.
The cover-up had been easy. Ms. Slutskaya, coming from a culture where one did not contradict the police, was quickly cowed into going along. Fortune seemed to smile upon him when Hughes arrived, just in time to be “caught” by Rostropovich, who circled around from the back when he first heard her approach. Then Kwan and Cohen, approaching the back porch from opposite sides, had accidentally collided, causing even more confusion. Back-up having now been called for, the girls waited in the squad cars while Rostropovich arranged the crime scene to suit his purposes. Later, it had been easy enough for him to prepare a phony ballistics report and to plant the gloves.
Yes, he had gotten away with it. Nothing could go wrong now, as long as his beloved Irina remained intimidated into silence.
Oh, Irina, Irina. I did it all for you!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Epilogue to the epilogue.
BAM! the door to Rostropovich’s office burst open, and in rushed the Gang of Four -- Sasha and Sarah, brandishing their skates as weapons, a la Cast Away; Irina with her whip; and Michelle, a graceful tapering finger curled delicately yet firmly around the trigger of the Colt 45!
“Big Al,” they announced in unison. “you’re under citizens’ arrest!"
Then the ladies stepped aside to reveal in the doorway the staunch figure of none other than Mr. Dick Button, a cherubic smile gracing his avuncular face. Yes, he had survived!
“Well done, girls,” beamed Dick Button. “First rate, simply the best, A1. And as for you, Big Al,
THE GIGUE IS UP ! "
And they all lived happily ever after, except Peggy Fleming, who had to go back into the broadcast booth with him.
REALLY AND TRULY THE END