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Rear Window [Epilogue]

 

Somewhere at the bottom of a canyon, a phone rang, It was enough to momentarily scare away the mutated beast which was pawing away at strips of duct tape. The phone stopped ringing. The beast sniffed the air and sensing no danger returned to it’s meal. After the phone rang several times more, the beast no longer saw the need for caution, it simply ignored the sound and tore the carcass of it’s lunch apart.

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Rear Window [16]

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 “We were going to do some building work, honestly !”

Anson struggle against the handcuffs. Dwight said nothing as he wound a roll of duct tape round and round the body of Bartram who was just starting to recover from being cattle-prodded.

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Rear Window [15]

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 “That will have to do.”

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Rear Window [14]

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Herbert Bentley peered at his face in the theatrical mirror. The lightbulb festooned frame illuminated his face. He was in full slap and was just applying the bulbous red nose. To one side a crazy orange afro wig sat waiting on a mannequin head. On a hanger next to the table hung a bright yellow clown suit with red and white striped sleeves.

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Rear Window [13]

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Rear Window [12]

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Hanne concentrated on the scene. She smiles as several times some mothers pulled their children, giving Dwight a wide berth. She was not sure if it was the sight or the smell which urged caution. Or both.

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Rear Window [11]

Dwight Frye sat at his desk stirring sugar into the tea filled bone china cup on his desk. He liked to be at work early. Next to the cup sat a plate with several biscuits. He picked one and snapped it in half, pausing to brush a crumb from his neatly pressed grey waistcoat. He sipped the tea and surveyed his office. All was fine, everything was in order, not a file, folder or pile of documents out of place.

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Rear Window [10]

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After what seemed like an eternity, Hanne turned on her side in her bed to discover that the clock now read 03:39.. the last time she looked, ages ago, it had read 03:18. and the time before that, 03:03.

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Rear Window [9]

 “Yer can feck awfe ! There is no damned way I’m gonna wear a damned clown suit ! “

The taller of the two men turned to the other.

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Rear Window [8]

It was a fine morning, as usual. The sun was still low enough not causethe usual blistering Arizona heat.

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Rear Window [7]

Exuding his aire of administrative efficiency, Dwight opened the four folders on the desk in front of Hanne.

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Rear Window [6]

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Hanne was back at the window In truth she had been there most of the afternoon. As the sun drifted into late afternoon and on into evening, and as Hanne’s cup of tea was now clay cold,

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Rear Window [5]

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Not his face !! “

Dwight looked up from his initial appraisal of the boy and cast a puzzled glance.

Hmm?”

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Rear Window [4]

"You see, 'like' isn't a word I would use to describe Mr. Spivey..." Fat Eric mopped his sweaty brow with the white linen serviette.

They had chatted over dinner for more than two hours. Dwight was feeling stuffed. Fat Eric had put away enough food to keep The New Flagstaff Orphanage going for a week. Dwight Frye considered his host as they ate. The dining room was as ornate as the study. The beefcake servants had kept them, well more so Fat Eric, supplied with food while the poncing military fairy of a butler fussed over their wine and latterly the coffee

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Rear Window [3]

The sun was decending in the reddening sky, almost kissing the near distant hilltops as Dwight turned off the main road and into the  cul-de-sac. 

Half way along the cul-de-sac, he brought his car to a smooth halt in front of the high black cast iron gates. He pulled the handbrake on with a rasp of the ratchet and wound down his door window. He was not at all surprised to find himself looking at the double circle of the business end of a sawn-off shotgun. He pushed the round rims of his spectacles up his nose a little and smiled at the barrels.

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Rear Window [2]

The phone the table had actually rang four times before Hanne snapped out of her thoughts and finally answered it.

"Hallo ?"  She enquired and instantly recognised the high camp voice at the other end.

" Miss Berg, Miss Berg, Miss Berg ! I heared you were returning to work and I just couldn't resist giving you a little  'welcome back' tinkle..  How are you, dearie? "

" Fat Eric... "  Hanne smiled to herself, " It seems one cannot sneeze without you saying 'gesundheit' for me. I am fine, thank you for asking. And you ?"

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Rear Window

 

Hanne climbed the last stair and crossed the second floor landing. She paused a moment as her hand rested on the door handle. 

The familiar brass plate in front of her smelled of Brass Cleaner and shone brightly even in the darkened stairwell. The dark letters embossed into the metal spelled out " The Ranyhyn Company" clearly.

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Of duct tape, bridges and gravity.... all in a day's work

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Hanne Berg drove her interceptor south,she eased her foot off the accelerator pedal, after all there was no rush. 

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Family reunions - loose ties

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Hanne Berg sat on the stool at the end of the bar in Trader Flats.  She rotated the half full glass of now well-past-room-temperature beer once more on its place mat. Hanne hated waiting around in bars, a woman alone in a bar is attracts all manner of low-life and no-hoper men wanting to 'buy her a drink'.

Hanne smirked to herself. At least she had inherited her fathers cold steel nordic eyes. Her well practiced cold-stare could stop even the most ardent bar-pest in his tracks.

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by Dr. Radut