Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5
Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8
Part 9
Merrypen sat in front of her computer in her home on Kent Street in the historical town of Urbanna, Virginia (founded 1680), on the south side of the Rappahannock River and stared glumly at her new crime manuscript.
She reviewed her list of characters that had appeared and events that had taken place since the beginning of her story and repeated a phrase her grandmother used to say when she found herself ensnared in a muddle. “What a fine kettle of fish!”
Her two major “30 something” characters, Whiz and Snark, had run wild through her pages, only to create havoc in her hometown! Town residents were concerned about the so far unsolved break-in at the Urbanna museum and attempt to steal the famous Mitchell Map. She must put a stop to the nonsense!
Merrypen remembered her earlier conversation with her daughter, Whiz, who had claimed the author controlled her characters. Merrypen had indignantly denied she controlled her characters swearing those that she wrote about in her stories had total autonomy and could do exactly as they pleased.
But now Merrypen wasn’t so sure. Perhaps Whiz was right and the author controls what her characters do and say. Maybe it was time to change course and whip these recalcitrant characters into shape?
Yes! She would take charge of the story and put a stop to their individual freedom to do as they pleased! Like a strong federal government that insisted on doing good for the people, she would straighten out the mess her characters had created! For the good of all the people involved in her dear little Urbanna!
Let’s see, where are Merrypen’s characters at this very moment? Well, Snark, after a bungled break in to steal the Mitchell Map in Urbanna, had sailed off to Charleston to lay low but had experienced such remorse for what he had done that he was now on his way back up the Intracoastal in his renamed sloop “Hawk” to Urbanna. He was determined to do the right thing, turn himself in to the law and face the consequences. It was still raining.
Then, Whiz was so horrified at what she had done as a joke that she had started the muddle in the first place that she was racing home from Charleston in her Jag to try to save Snark from going to jail.
Her retired attorney father, “the Stickler,” was enjoying a cup of tea in his study back in Urbanna having no idea he was about to be hit up by his daughter to do all he could to help Snark.
The sheriff and state police thus far had found no evidence at the crime scene to identify the culprit. But the publicity of the attempted heist of the Mitchell Map had attracted thousands of people to Urbanna to see for themselves exactly what this famous map was all about.
Doc Robo, who headed up the interpretation of the map, was conducting nonstop seminars at the museum to one group after another that flocked to town to see the map.
No one in Urbanna complained about the mass of tourists coming to town because they were spending many tourist dollars in local stores and restaurants. Business was booming. Everyone was happy with the change of pace that Urbanna was experiencing.
“Here goes nothing!”
Merrypen said out loud to her spaniel, “Cuddles,” who lay asleep under her desk as she began taking control of her characters in her new book. (This was a favorite saying her father had always shouted before jumping off the top deck on their family boat into the icy waters of Georgian Bay on family yachting trips.)
First change: It finally stopped raining and Snark was able to dry off. (Merrypen knew very well how horrid it was to be caught on a boat, especially in February, both wet and miserable and she put a swift end to his suffering.)
Second, Merrypen had Snark strip off the name of his sailboat “Hawk” and return it to its original name of “Goose.” Goodness knows, “Hawk” was not a proper name for a sloop. Frankly, Merrypen didn’t much like “Goose” either. There! Now Merrypen was in control she would now set everything straight.
“It’s all my fault!” Whiz wailed to the Stickler after arriving home in Urbanna as her sad story spilled forth. “It was only a joke when I told Snark how to commit the perfect crime! Now he is going to turn himself in and confess to the break in! He wants to make restitution and apologize to the people of Urbanna! I’m afraid he will be sent to jail and for something I instigated!”
With that Whiz burst into a storm of tears. The Stickler reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief that his dinosaur generation always carried in case a lady needed a safe place to sniffle.
Whiz went on. “He could be sentenced to jail and have a record that could keep him from ever getting another job!” This last presented with another bucket of tears.
Whiz went on to tell her father that Snark had no previous record of breaking the law and she felt he had only done this deed because he was so enraged at her for their recent breakup and that his emotions had shut down his rational thinking. “It was the male ego at work, Father! Won’t you please help him if you can?”
The Stickler sighed, a long, low sigh that had sprung from almost 60 years of hearing all kinds of troubles of the human race. “First, Whiz, and I want a truthful answer, are you sure that this relationship is over? And for good?”
“Yes. We had broken up earlier and I don’t ever intend to return to him. But that doesn’t mean I want to see him go to jail!” More tears.
A look similar to relief seemed to move across the old lawyer’s face. “Alright. I’ll talk to the commonwealth’s attorney and see what might be done. He’s a fair man. He will listen to what I have to say. And Snark has the advantage of the police having no clue as to who is guilty of the break-in so he might consider a plea deal just to close the case and stop the constant talk.”
For, like most small towns that experience a crime, Urbanna was still beside itself with rumors which were swirling like blackbirds moving through a cornfield. With a population under 500, it was almost certain that by now everyone who lived in town had been suspected as the certain culprit. Something had to be done.
“One request of you I will make, Whiz. I’ll look into this matter but only if you will promise to give up thinking up ideas on how to commit a perfect crime.”
Whiz dried her eyes with her father’s handkerchief and immediately agreed.
→ Part 10
Note to readers: The actions and characters that appear in this story are fictional. The story is written for entertainment and to promote knowledge of our town and local history.
