Chapter 52: Chapter 52 – An unexpected hero

It took Dianne a few weeks to get everything ready to launch her criminal strategy. Not that she had a hard time bribing the innkeeper and a couple of his employees to collaborate on the charade, no. That was the easiest thing in the whole movie she had put on her head. Nor was it difficult to attract Patrick to the tavern; to that it was enough to mention the name of a friend or, better still, of one of his mistresses, to convince him like a lapdog to go wherever he went.

No, if the author had had to delay her plans, it was because she needed the time to find some materials that she couldn´t find so casually. Objects such as a pistol because, although it lacked bullets, it should not be easy to ask someone for it without exposing the purpose for which it would be used.

On the other hand, Dianne's original character came from a good family. They didn't have as much money as the Cornells once had, but they didn't have so little as to be considered middle class. Therefore, although she did not lack cash thanks to her work and the fact that she could count on the help of her false family, she could not allow herself to be seen dealing with weapons. Hence, she either she had to find another method to get one, or she had to resort to that same, but using twice as much care not to give herself away.

In truth, Oscar didn't care how she did it. He didn't even ask her. He had only agreed to invite Madeleine for tea and pastries that afternoon in early February and to, if the plan went ahead, feign surprise when some thug broke in to steal. The rest was up to Dianne: He wouldn't get involved anymore.

"You were very considerate in inviting me," Madeleine had said that day, as they were already on their way to the tavern, through the cobbled streets of Snodland. “I don't know what led you to this change, as it must be the first time in centuries you´ve shown me a hint of kindness, but I must ask you not to get your hopes up. Even though I´ve left Patrick, that does not mean that I´m a free woman.”

Oscar wondered if she was implying what he believed was implying, but he didn´t need to formulate the question, since the protagonist answered it by adding:

"Right now I find myself looking forward to Albert Northrop's return. But you already knew that, right? The poor man must have so much work in the city... I sent him four or five letters, but he could only answer me one.”

"Did he really answer?"

"Of course he did, for he is a gentleman! Not like others, who ignored me for centuries. Because no, Oscar, I don't forget that, even if it seems like it. We can still remain friends, that's why I agreed to come with you today, but you have to know that you have no chance with me. You lost your chance.”

"Don´t talk about chances that nobody asked for," Oscar said, completely discarding the delusions that the protagonist might have. “And tell me, what did he put in that letter?”

Knowing that the villain had answered, Oscar was startled. Although of course, that scare only lasted a couple of seconds, until he remembered he had given Madeleine the wrong address, making it impossible for the real Albert to respond. So, since things were like that, there could be two options: one, that no one wrote back to the protagonist. And two, if she was too insistent, that the owner of the apartment to which the letters were addressed did respond, but to clarify that it was all a mistake.

Who was going to tell that there would be a third option by which that fatal woman would supplant the villain in his letters?

"He didn't tell me much because, as I already mentioned, he's very busy," Madeleine pointed out. “Ah, indeed that man isn´t what is shown on the outside! You say that he has been ignoring me, but in writing he has not been like that at all! On the contrary, he has been very interested in me, asking me how I was and how I was doing with Patrick. He even invited me to stop by Thornfield as soon as he´s back!”

The latter confirmed, if there could still be a trace of doubt, that it was not the real Albert who had written those words.

"May I see that letter?" Oscar asked her.

He imagined that, with all the information that Madeleine must have released in her two or three missives, that inveterate critic had enough material to fill in the plot gaps and create her own story, responding as if she really knew the protagonist.

“No! It´s mine!” She even backed away from Oscar a couple of feet, as if she was carrying the paper on top of her and fearing he was going to force it out of her. “You have no right to touch my beloved's letters!”

‘That beloved must be a bitter old woman who has nothing better to do than write nonsense to push random people away,’ Oscar thought to say. But if he confessed that, he was going to have to admit that it had all been his thing. And perhaps that was the best solution, considering this imposter could defame Albert however she wanted from her position, but would Madeleine believe him, even after everything he had done to her?

"I'm not taking the letter from you," he sighed, trying to keep calm.

Why the fuck did all his plans end in disaster? Even when he didn't plan anything malicious he unwittingly managed to screw up someone's life!

"I'd just like to know exactly what words it contains," he continued, trying not to sound forced. “If you don't want to give it, or explain about it, that's fine. In that case, I just wanted to ask you what you told Albert in your letters.”

"Why? Are you afraid that I'll tell him that I'm free to go out with whoever I want? That would undoubtedly ruin your aspirations to find a happy future with me. Or well, actually that is already ruined a long time ago. You shouldn't worry so much about what I say or don't say to Mr. Northrop. Besides, weren't you friends? You should have a modicum of sportsmanship and accept that he´s the only one worthy to woo me!”

"Madeleine, I can accept a lot of things, but that's just not one of them."

“No? Well, I don't understand, he also comes from a good family. It's only natural that he's up to the task to hang out with me. Not like you. And no, do not be offended, I am not saying it wrongly. You know I appreciate you but, no matter how hard you try asking me out and so on, you won´t make our relationship go any further.”

"I'm glad for that."

“What?”

"Nothing, nothing." Pointing toward the tavern entrance, he suggested. “Shall we go in?”

Really, if there was someone unworthy to put up with the protagonist, that was the villain. And it wasn´t a problem of social status or discreet character, but hers. Oscar did not wish for others, whether they were friends or mere acquaintances, what he would not bear himself. And Albert was more than a friend to him, so with double reason he felt aggrieved if someone told him that he should settle for someone like Madeleine.

"Aren't there very few people?" Madeleine had asked when she entered the room and saw that most of the tables were empty.

"It must be a bad day for visitors," Oscar guessed; despite the fact that they had arrived at tea time and it would have been natural for the place to be full. “Either that and there is too much work for people to spend a while here to have a drink, or it is that we are off  season.”

"The competition these days is terrible," commented the owner from the bar, because it was not just that he had heard them speak, it was that he was literally waiting for them.

“Is that so? I hope this business continues to prosper, despite everything. It would be horrible if they closed the best tavern in all of Snodland.”

As Oscar continued to chat with the innkeeper, ordering what they were going to have, Madeleine seemed to have already realized the two of them weren't the only customers. In a corner of the place, seated at a table by the window, Patrick Seymour remained drinking a beer and absorbed with his own deck of cards. Deck that, for a change, he must have brought with the intention of using it with some acquaintance with whom he was supposed to be meeting at any moment.

Now, it was interesting how Madeleine completely ignored the presence of a male lead who, when saw her, tried to greet her. He tried because, although he did speak a few words from afar and not too loud, by then Madeleine had already turned her back on him, telling Oscar to hurry to follow her to another corner of the establishment, to a table much further away from Patrick than what anyone would expect. Making the latter look like a plague her own ex repudiated.

Although this was natural, wasn't it? Or, at least, to be expected. Madeleine had been ignoring all his invitations and refusing to receive him for more than a month, nor did she want to attend his New Year's Eve party! And thinking he had reserved a privileged place for her at the head table, granting the honor of even offering the guests a speech that finally had to be delivered by Mr. Seymour.

It must have been a real shame that the male protagonist was rejected and humiliated so many times! Oscar could tell just by looking at him because, although they ended up sitting ten meters from Patrick, from the angle where he was sitting he could see his face perfectly.

"Patrick seems angry," Oscar warned a Madeleine who was turning her back on the aforementioned, offering no particular interest in even turning to look at him. “Maybe you should have said hello back. Not to be rude, only.”

"I have nothing to say to that fellow," she replied, as if she was offended that it had even been suggested. “He wasted his chance to be with me when he could, now he has nothing to do. I will not go back to him! I am not like the other stupid ones of his conquest, who come back whenever they are urged due to lack of money or something else.”

"Speaking of the lack of money, don't you think it would have been wise to let you be wooed by him until your house was sorted out? I mean, you've already moved and Rose Cottage is empty. But, couldn't you have tried to get Patrick to buy your house back with that natural power you have? Maybe before he didn't have much interest in going after you, still less in losing his money, but now he would swear that it is possible.”

"Are you suggesting that I should prostitute myself for a few pounds?!" Madeleine raised her voice, and Oscar would have been embarrassed, had it not been for the fact that there were so few people to listen to her in that tavern. “How dare you!”

How dare he? Hadn't she hinted the same about him a couple of times before? What a nice person! Then Madeleine could defame whoever she wanted, but no one should have the right to do something similar to her.

"I'm not suggesting such a thing." And Oscar wasn't lying; It was true that his comment was not made with second thoughts. “I'm just saying that you could give in to Patrick's wishes up to a point. For example, meet him for a walk around town or meet you in a tea room briefly. With that he would be happy and maybe, if you asked him, he would even acquire Rose Cottage. He could later transfer the property back to your father, charging him little or nothing. And after this happened, if you did not want to have more to do with that individual, you could disengage. Without major commitment.”

"Do you think he should?"

"Of course, what are these favorable coincidences for if not to take advantage of them?"

"But that would be like cheating on Patrick! Manipulating people is not okay, ladies should not do that!”

"Uh... No, I guess you're right about that."

Oscar smiled forcedly and did not press the point further. Wasn't she the queen of manipulation? Oh, but now it turned out that she had principles and everything. Principles out of nowhere! Oscar was bothered by this; he came prepared for a refusal with the excuse that "if I do such a thing, I will have to stop persecuting Mr. Northrop, and that cannot be!" He didn´t expect the protagonist to play innocent, making him look like the bad guy.

But, despite the fact that this meeting was just a series of continuous rudeness, which did nothing but test his patience over and over again, Oscar had to endure. His goal in accompanying Madeleine was to make her stay in the tavern until the fake robbery took place. Hence, being against her or arguing about her, even if she disrespected him, was terrible for the plan.

This is why Oscar had no choice but to try to relax in his seat, ignore any issue that could generate tension between them and pretend that he listened with interest to all the complaints Madeleine had about her new apartment while a waiter served them what they had asked for.

Ten minutes passed, then twenty, and after half an hour, still no one had shown up.

Patrick must have played four or five games against himself by now, and having finished his beer and a couple of coffees, he looked uneasy. It was not clear if he wanted to leave or if he was waiting for Madeleine to take the initiative to get to her feet first. On the other hand, at the table where she and Oscar were, the pastries had disappeared and at the bottom of the cups there were only traces of the tea that had once been there.

Madeleine had already suggested leaving a couple of times, but Oscar kept dragging the conversation as best he could, wondering what the hell Dianne was doing to be so slow. If even the poor tavern owner was getting impatient! When he went to their table to charge them, he looked at him as if wondering how long this would last, since the hour when the usual drunks came was approaching and it was not convenient for him to reject such frequent customers.

When he got no response, he dared to comment:

 "It's about time for the crows to drop in here, right? As bad weather comes, I don't know if they will be able to take flight later.”

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"Today's crows are quite skilled, I don't think they have a problem," said Oscar, who, although he understood the reference perfectly, did not know why the hell he had used such a bird to talk about the author. “Although it is true that they are being delayed.”

"Why are you talking about crows? Are there even crows at this time of year?”

Madeleine looked lost, but the innkeeper had already left the table with money in hand, and as for Oscar, he seemed to still be absorbed in his own thoughts. Although he had not interrupted her, being cooperative even when she told him her uninteresting gossip, he also did not give the impression that he had listened carefully to what she was saying.

"You are all so weird today!" Madeleine protested, standing up. “First Patrick playing the lonely melancholic in a corner, then the owner talking about ugly birds… And you, why haven't you stopped looking at the door all this time?”

"No, it's nothing."

And Oscar followed suit, thinking that if Dianne hadn't kept her part of her bargain, it was none of his business. He wasn't going to cover her any longer; he had already overreached himself by holding Madeleine for more than thirty minutes.

They weren't the only ones who proceeded to leave the corner they were in, but Patrick also used that moment to decide that he was fed up with waiting for someone who wouldn't show up. And, as if he had a spring in his ass, he stood up the exact moment he saw Madeleine do it.

Oscar saw him take a couple of steps towards them, while they were putting on their coat to leave, having plucked up the courage to talk to the protagonist and, perhaps, even with the idea of ​​proposing to her with the same cheap ring that he previously showed.

But Patrick did not get to fulfill his idea, whatever it was. Because when he had just taken the initiative to get closer, it happened: The front door was suddenly opened and a person appeared through it.

Because clothes covered this person from head to toe, no one, except those who were involved in the plan, could deduce whether it was a man or a woman.

And Dianne had done an excellent job looking for a costume. Having gone to a market for "commoners", as she called it. There she had acquired a dark and worn shirt, pants and jacket. Like the ones could carry any usual crook that had to resort to stealing to get something to put in their mouth on a day-to-day basis. The author had even gotten herself some men's boots, although those seemed to be of better quality, as she must have guessed that she would need such boots to be able to flee the scene when things got dangerous.

Her hair was tied up and hidden under a hat that, although it was a gentleman's hat, should never have belonged to one — for it was just as ragged as the rest of the suit. A scarf remained around her neck, covering much of her face. Oscar could only see her eyes, since even her hands were encased in a pair of black gloves, like a true professional of crime.

Besides, something else had to be admitted; that jacket that covered her almost to the knees had the advantage that it was bulky. And since it had large inside pockets, Dianne was able to hide a pistol there that she pulled out as soon as she arrived. With it she pointed, without making distinctions, towards all those people who were gathered in the premises.

The circus had just started and Oscar, who followed Dianne's instructions when she asked them to raise their arms and not move from where they were, couldn't help but feel that there was something strange about it. Maybe it was because the author had gotten too into the role, or maybe they could even be her imaginations, but wasn't she the too tall? Not only that, her voice didn't sound like a woman's at all!

Oscar knew there was something murky about all this, but he preferred to play dumb and pretend that everything was going according to plan. In a few seconds he had convinced himself that this criminal was not Dianne, but he wasn´t willing to accept it either. Because, if he accepted it, he should also admit the possibility that the weapon he was using to coerce both employees and customers was real and loaded.

The intruder had approached the bar, after making his respective threats, and had asked the owner to deposit all the money in the box before him. Meanwhile, the barrel of his gun was pointed at Oscar and Madeleine, demanding that they do the same, empty their wallets and leave what little they possessed on another table before them.

Madeleine apologized softly, scared, claiming she had nothing. And Oscar, wondering if he would get the money back if he got out of that one, obeyed without saying a word.

As Oscar seemed eager to cooperate, the criminal withdrew his pistol from his direction and, this time, pointed it at Patrick, whose legs faltered and he would have almost fallen to the ground, had it not been for the fact that he stopped his fall by using his hands to support himself on the back of a chair.

"Hand over your money!" he demanded. “Now!”

This seemed like a lousy heist movie to Oscar, because even if the actors were real in this case, the script was still bad. Now, it had to be conceded that the surprise factor did play an important role here. Because no one, not even those who were aware of the pantomime, expected what happened in the next few minutes.

Patrick had made a pretense of pulling his wallet out of his pocket, yes. But, before he could do it, he proceeded to do the unthinkable in an extreme emergency situation like that.

No, he did not try to advance a few meters until he reached the robber with the intention of taking the weapon from him. And no, he did not rush to go with her ex-fiancée to defend her against such an outcast of society. Nothing of that. What he did, before anyone had time to assimilate what he intended, was to quickly open the window behind him and jump outside without looking back.

This was a ground floor, so the fall was barely a meter. And, after the successful escape of the protagonist, those who remained inside the premises could still hear his screams of panic moving away to anywhere except the police station.

 That bastard had fled, deciding to save his money rather than his girlfriend!

Oscar was cursing under his breath. He had told Dianne, not once but several times, to warn Patrick that it was all going to be a game. That no real robber was going to assault them. Just in case something like this happened, that the guy had a panic attack and passed out or ran out without worrying about the rest. But no, Dianne had continued to insist, for hours, that her protagonist would not do anything of the kind. That he was a born hero.

Well, what a hero he was! Even the thief had been stunned, staring out the window, perhaps wondering what the hell that had been. Perhaps never, in all his years as a criminal, had someone dared to run away so crudely and blatantly.

Then about Madeleine… She didn't regret that Patrick had managed to flee. Much less was she glad that at least one of them was going to survive this misfortune. No. Madeleine did the second unforeseen thing of the day: She took advantage of those seconds in which the robber was clueless to run up to him, hitting him in the lower parts - with the result that the unknown little man fell to the ground in pure pain, dropping the weapon in the act - go back, take Oscar by the arm and pull him toward the exit.

That event was fucking strange, but if Madeleine was willing to be the hero to rescue them all, Oscar had no complaints. In fact, while she was kicking the other's balls, he had already rushed all the coins back into his pocket and was therefore prepared to leave when the protagonist dragged him with her.

Once outside the premises, they both relaxed. They had left the innkeeper and his employees dumbfounded, not knowing what to do, with a semi-conscious thug on the floor. Dianne was nowhere to be seen, but further away must be already Patrick, whom she was not to be seen on any street.

The plan, in short, was a disaster for the objective that the author proposed. But at least it had served to show that Madeleine wasn´t entirely useless.

"We have to call the police!" She had exclaimed once outside the premises.

It seemed that her neurons did connect correctly when she was in a situation of risk.

“No!” Oscar rushed to reply, forcing himself out of his earlier shock and thinking that it would be very bad to implicate the authorities in a robbery that someone so close had planned. “No need to call them! Let the tavern owner do it! After all, with the type of premises they run, they must already be used to being robbed every once in a while.”

Madeleine shouldn't have seen the difference between owning a hospitality establishment and a bank, in terms of where it would be more profitable to commit a robbery, but she didn't want to insist either. It was not because she had forgotten the scare that they took in there, far from it, but because, speaking of the queen of Rome, she had just seen Dianne appearing around a corner of the street and walking in an extremely casual way towards where they were.

"Dianne, it was all horrible!" Madeleine threw herself into her arms and began to cry on the spot, now, forgetting that there were people left in the tavern to save. “An ugly old man came in with a gun and threatened to kill us if we didn't give him all of our belongings!”

“Seriously? How awful, you must have had a bad time!” Still holding the protagonist in her arms, the writer looked around her before asking. “And Mr. Seymour? I believed he would be around here.”

"He's run away," Oscar answered, most calmly.

"What do you mean he ran away?"

“He has run away, jumped out of the window like a professional athlete and at this time I imagine that he´ll already be in Lilac Hall, having a shot or a whole carafe to calm his nerves”

“That's impossible!”

"But Oscar is right, Dianne! That fool ran away and didn't even deign to send for me once he was out!” Madeleine protested angrily and, returning to her planter, she added. “Why are all men so useless?!”

"It's a good question," she conceded, looking at Oscar.

"Why the hell are you looking at me ...? It's not like I could have done anything, under the circumstances.”

"Of course, it depends on the type of man," Dianne continued, ignoring the other's protests. “There are some who will save you no matter what and others who, escaping or not, always wait to be saved by some rich patron, like a damsel in distress.”

"Tell me you keep referring to Patrick, please."

"Oscar, I've wanted to ask you for a while..." the author interjected. “That scarf that you always wear around your neck is very beautiful and of excellent quality, where did you get it?”

Oscar, obviously, did not bother to answer that question. Knowing that there was plenty there, with Madeleine still agitated in the arms of her creator, he excused himself saying that he would go to check that the people in the tavern were still alive and then, as he said, he disappeared from her sight. He would have a chance later to confront Dianne alone to make her explain a few things.

For now, when he returned to the tavern, the owner had already removed the weapon with which they had been threatened and, both he and a couple of employees, were trying to fully awaken a criminal who still continued to resist leaving the world of dreams.

"What was that friend of yours thinking?" The owner asked, annoyed, when he saw Oscar re-enter. “The gun was loaded! A little later he would have made a hole in the ceiling with the gun, if he had ever fired it.”

"Don't tell me he's a real robber..."

"No, he's just a bum," one of the waiters explained. “I've seen him begging around town a few times.”

"But he had real bullets on him!" The owner insisted. “If I had known, I would have asked that woman for more money! If it happen someone gets hurt and they start to label the place as dangerous, that wouldn´t be new. But I refuse to risk the building and our merchandise!” 

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