Episode #37 - It's one o'clock in the morning, barely four hours since I decided to stay in Collinwood, and now sleep refuses to come, not only for me, but for a man whose tension, hour by hour, seems to be rising closer to the surface.
Roger stands in the drawing room, distracted, scared. He bites his nail, rubs the back of his neck, then opens the double doors and wanders into the foyer. He turns on the light in the drawing room and dials Sam Evans, who sits in abject misery in a chair, drink in hand, refusing to answer the phone. Sam finally picks up, says, "You've got the wrong number," and starts to hang up. Roger first orders, then begs him not to hang up What do you want now? asks Sam. Peace of mind, complete peace of mind, says Roger softly. It's about 10 years too late for that, says Sam. I don't want epigrams from you, says Roger, I want to know what you've done about Burke. Nothing, says Sam. But you're not serious! Says Roger.
I told you earlier this evening, says Sam--I tried to talk him out of having me do his portrait, but he refused--why in heaven can't you just leave it at that, accept it? You haven't talked to him again! says Roger desperately. What do you expect? demands Sam--it's one o'clock in the morning!--do you want me to rouse the man out of his sleep? I know what time it is, says Roger, call Burke now, cancel that portrait sitting. Suppose I can't? asks Sam. The hours are passing, says Roger, for both of us--don't make yours any shorter than they have to be--and he hangs up. Roger walks, his gait like that of an old man's, and spots Vicki standing in the doorway, staring at him. His eyes bulge when he sees her.
How long have you been standing in that doorway? demands Roger, horrified. I couldn't sleep, she replies, I came down to find something to read. To read or to listen? he asks. I don't understand, she says. I see, he says, innocence in a dressing gown--don't stand on the threshold of that door, poised--get in here, Miss winters! Afraid, Vicki says she's not sure she...she didn't know anyone was down in here. Now you know, he says, will you join me, please--and he pulls her into the drawing room and closes the doors. Now just suppose you tell me how long you were standing in that doorway? He asks. I just got there when you saw me, says Vicki. How much of my phone conversation did you overhear? He asks. None of it, she says, and why should I be interested in your phone conversations? Because you've been snooping and prying ever since you came here, he accuses, because you've been getting yourself involved in matters that don't concern you in the least! That's not true! says Vicki. Let me advise you, he says, the more probing you do, the sooner you'll be sent back where you came from. I think you'd better tell your sister that! says Vicki. (Go, Vicki!) My sister fells exactly the way I do, he says. Is that what you think? says Vicki--perhaps you don't know that earlier this evening, I tried to leave and she talked me out of it--I told your sister I thought she needed somebody new to take care of David--and she insisted I stay. Then Elizabeth is a...I'm sure my sister had her reasons, he says, more calmly, but they, too, can change, as circumstances change--if you did hear any of that conversation, forget it--pretend that it never existed--I'm telling you that for your own good--do I make myself clear enough? Quite clear, she assures him. Then good night, he says, stepping aside to let her leave. She goes upstairs. Roger pours another drink, already drunk, it appears.
Cottage - Sam, too, pours another drink. (All this guilt drinking going on!) Maggie comes out and asks Pop what time it is. I wouldn't know, he says. She picks up the alarm clock--quarter after one, she says--don't you think you ought to hit the sack? No, he says, taking another slug. Maggie chuckles and asks what he's doing--plugging for a non sleep long distance record? Go back to sleep, leave me alone, he says. Exactly what I intend to you, she promises, as soon as I satisfy my inherited curiosity--who called? No one, he says. The phone rang, didn't it? she asks--that's what woke me. Wrong number, says Sam. Try again, advises Maggie, I heard you talking to somebody. I was talking to our friendly local bookmaker, he says--satisfied?--go back to sleep, darling, you're getting those fatigue lines that a pretty little girl like you shouldn't have. She touches under his eyes, reminding him they run in the family, and they're not fatigue--it's worry. You think you know everything, don't you? he asks, kissing he cheek. Not everything, she says, but I do know you--I know you're a wonderful, marvelous human being, and I hate to see you torn apart the way you are. Then listen to this wonderful, marvelous human being and go back to sleep, he says, hands on her shoulders. What about you? she asks. I'll go to bed soon, he says, I promise--there's just something I have to do. Another call to your "bookmaker"? she asks. Let's just says I'd like to keep the world from falling apart sooner than it has to, he says--good night, sweetheart--and he kisses her again--don't worry. Tell me to stop breathing while you're at it, she says.
Sam wanders his studio, a piece of paper in his hand. Maggie asks him what he's got there. I thought you went back to bed, he says. You know how it is, she says, buttoning up her robe--I tried, no luck, though I'd fix myself a cup of tea--what is that, a letter? You are the nosiest person on the face of this earth, he says--yes, it's a letter, I wrote it, and it's private--now if you're going to make some tea, the door it right there to the kitchen. You are a fount of information, she says mockingly, and goes to the kitchen. She sees him tapping the letter impatiently and leaves him, unhappy. Sam slides the letter into an envelope and seals it. He writes (left-handed) on the envelope. Kettle's on, says Maggie--who are you writing to, your friendly neighborhood bookmaker? He shows her the envelope. Me, she says--this is for me? That's right, he says. But you said it was personal and private, she reminds him. That's right, he says. That doesn't make any sense, she says, you don't have to write me letters, you can talk to me anytime you want, about anything. Maggie, he says anxiously, I don't want you opening that letter, not now, I want you to put it in a safe place, keep it there--don't open it or show it to anybody, just keep it. I don't understand, she says. No questions, he says, just promise you'll do as I ask. How can I promise when I don't... Because I ASK you to, he says, slamming his fist on the table--believe me, darling, the one thing I hope is, you'll never have to open that envelope--that you'll never have to learn that...he walks away from her, pained. Learn what? she asks. The kettle screams. The kettle's boiling, he says. What did you write in this--what's in it? asks Maggie. WILL YOU TURN THAT KETTLE OFF! he shouts. Hurt, Maggie goes to the kitchen. Sam pours himself another drink. Pop, says Maggie hesitantly. I want you to keep that letter, he orders, and promise me you will never open it, unless you hear something has happened to me. What do you expect will happen to you? she asks, alarmed. Oh, my friendly bookmaker might want a pound of flesh, says Sam. Don't joke with me, she says--this has something to do with Collinwood, doesn't it? Just keep the letter, says Sam, that's all I ask. I wish that place would burn to the ground, says Maggie. That wouldn't do any good, solve any problems, he says, the ghost of the past don't live in a home, but inside each man, fight for his soul--twist it into something unrecognizable.
Don't talk to me about spooks, says Maggie--no ghost could make you that afraid for your life! You don't know anything about it, he says--go get your tea, dear. No sobbing ghost could have made you write a letter! insists Maggie. I'm going to bed, he says, kissing her. It was Roger Collins, says Maggie resentfully--I know. Sam enters his bedroom without responding, and closes the door. Ghosts! says Maggie, annoyed.
The clock strikes one. The house is filled with heartbroken sobbing. Vicki comes out onto the landing and stands at the top of the stairs, asking, "Who is it?--who's there?" She goes downstairs, through the foyer and into the drawing room. Seeing no one, Vicki wanders out of the drawing room, back into the foyer, and into the kitchen. Vicki heads into the basement, where the crying pauses for a moment, then resumes. She turns on a light and goes to the mysterious locked door, from behind which the sobbing seems to be emanating. Who's in there? she asks, rattling the padlock. She heard footsteps, and we see a man's shoes coming downstairs.
It's Roger, who looks rather ghostlike himself, anger pouring from his very pores.
Are you still looking for something to read? Roger demands. Vicki tells him she heard someone crying. I see, he says, and do you normally go prowling in the basement of a house when you hear someone crying? I was trying to get to sleep when I heard it, she says--I told you I heard it before. I thought I made it perfectly clear to you, he says, that I will not tolerate your constant snooping and prying. I wasn't snooping, she says--I heard crying behind that door! He gives the door a couple of tugs and tells her it's locked as she can see. But I was sure I...didn't you hear it? she asks. I have far more important things on my mind, he says, than the hysterical imaginings of a girl... It wasn't imagination, it was real, Vicki insists desperately, someone was crying, I know! From behind that locked door? he asks, not believing her. I thought it was, she says uncertainly. An old house has many strange sounds, says Roger, and if you go on staying here, you are likely to hear them over and over again, but I will not allow you to use these sounds as an excuse to go wandering where you don't belong! But didn't you hear it? persists Vicki. I don't want to talk about it anymore--I don't want you wandering through closed sections of this house--or up in the attic or down in the basement--I want you to stay where you belong!--and do what you're supposed to do--is that clear?--I don't want you to do anything else but that! The phone rings, saving Vicki from further diatribe. Vicki turns off the light and leaves the basement. The sobbing starts again.
Roger answers the phone. It's for Liz, and annoyed, Roger tells the caller that Mrs. Stoddard is asleep--who wants to speak to her?--Ned Calder?--well why didn't you say so, Ned?--do you have any idea what time it is?--I'm sorry, but Liz is asleep, and I have no intention of disturbing her. Vicki has come into the foyer and whispers, "Mr. Collins." If you want to speak to her, says Roger, I think it advisable that you call her at a more reasonable hour--good night. Now what do you want? Roger asks Vicki. If that was a Mr. Calder, says Vicki, your sister was very anxious to talk to him. Flabbergasted, Roger says, you really do know everything that goes on in this house, don't you? I heard her place a call to him earlier this evening, explains Vicki, she left word for him to call her back--she said she didn't care how late it was, it was very important that she talk to him. Were you also hired to serve my sister as a private secretary? Asks Roger incredulously. No, says Vicki. Or maybe your primary function, suggests Roger, is to teach me the proper manner in taking telephone messages. You have no right to talk to me like this! cries Vicki. I'll speak to you the way I choose--I have no intention of telling you what I want to do--if you want to go up and tell my sister this whole thing, you can--go ahead! Vicki sweeps past him without another word and heads upstairs. Miss Winters--wait, says Roger, looking up at her--please. What for? asks Vicki--another lecture on my "duties"? I'm sorry, says Roger, I didn't mean what I said--do you believe me? I'm afraid I don't, she says. Please, he begs, I want to talk to you--please?--he points to the drawing room.
Drawing room - Roger apologetically tells Vicki he's been boorish and rude and completely unfriendly. And without reason, she tells him. And I certainly wouldn't blame you if you went up and repeated everything to my sister, he says, but I'd really rather you didn't--why burden Elizabeth with our petty quarrels. It was hardly a petty quarrel, says Vicki. I know it, he says, and you're completely right, and I do deeply apologize--but lately I've had all these pressures on me from many directions--you do understand, don't you? It's still no reason to accuse me of snooping and prying, she says. Did I say all those words? He asks. Many times, she says, sitting on the sofa. Then I'm prepared to offer you a complete apology for every time, if you will, he says, sitting across from her--you see, I'm willing to go to any lengths to be restored to your good favor (he reminds me of a fawning court jester here)--I really want you to understand that when I shouted those words to you, it was just the pressures and extension of my tension, not my true feeling for you at all--you do believe me, don't you? Just what is your true feeling? she asks. That you are a charming, lovely girl who feels she's in a house of madness and who is understandable troubled by the events around her--am I correct? She smiles and nods. More than that, he says, I feel you have an innate sense of goodness that would overlook a troubled man's impulsive outbursts, and who really wants to be your friend. You have a very strange way of showing it, remarks Vicki. Let's then say simply that we've both been through the Holocaust this evening, he says, and that the calm is much the sweeter for it--you do accept my apology, don't you? I will if you'll answer one question, bargains Vicki--the sobbing, you did hear it, didn't you? Roger rises from his chair and finally admits yes. What is it--where does it come from? asks Vicki. I don't know, he replies. But you must, she says. I've heard it many times before, he says, and I honestly can't tell you where it comes from--maybe it's one of our ghosts.
But it seems so real! Protests Vicki. Ghosts can seem real, he says, they can seem very, very real indeed.
NOTES: I love the way Vicki stands up to everyone. For someone so young, she has a self-confidence that is very appealing. She neither gives nor takes any crap, and I like that. Her scenes with Roger were powerful, and I was so glad she didn't kowtow to him. In her presence, fearful of her tattling on him to Liz, he seemed frail, scared, and above all, human.
Maggie is another one who won't take any crap, and she is very disturbed about this mysterious letter her father has given her--a letter he doesn't want her to open until "something" happens to him. Maggie fears that he might be dying, ill, or hiding a terrible secret. In any event, you know she won't let it rest here. She, like Vicki, is determined to get to the bottom of things. I love the father-daughter interaction here, which is so much warmer and more loving than what David and Roger share (or don't share).
Poor Vicki is the victim of Roger's guilt and anger more than once here. Will this finally mean a rapprochement between them, or is she doomed to suffer more such scenes?
Who is the sobbing ghost? Josette? Someone else? It does give one the creeps to listen to that unbearable crying--which probably every family member has heard, and simply accepts.
Ned Calder. Who is he? What does he mean to Liz? And why was Roger so nasty to him?
Episode #38 - The gray light of morning has come again to Collinwood, and the strange sounds of the night should seem thousands of miles away--yet I can still hear it in my mind--the helpless crying that filled the shadows of the great house in Widows' Hill--crying that had drawn me down musty stairs to a strange, forbidding door. . .
Drawn to the locked door, Vicki once again goes down into the basement and turns on the light. Looking for something, Miss? asks Matthew Morgan (now played by Thayer David--we lost two actors in only a few episodes, but I like the ones playing he roles now far better). Startled, Vicki whirls around with a gasp. I didn't know anyone was down here, she says. What do you want in there? he asks. Nothing--I was just wondering what was in there, she says. I thought I heard Ms. Stoddard tell you to stay out of this basement, he says. I came down to get some books for David, says Vicki, he said they were here. Ain't any books in that room, Miss, he says. I didn't think so, says Vicki, I thought while I was here, I might give it a try. You want books, he says, carton full of them in that corner--take my advice, get what you want and go back upstairs before Mrs. Stoddard finds you here. Vicki stares at the door. Over there, says Matthew, not in that room. Vicki walks over to where Matthew pointed. He looks at her sharply.
Vicki is placing books in a box when Matthew comes over and asks if she found what she's after. Not yet, says Vicki, David said there were some Rover Boys books in a carton--you wouldn't know where they were, would you? Nope, he says, I'm going upstairs, you'd better come, too. It's all right, says Vicki, I'll come up as soon as I've found them. Mrs. Stoddard wouldn't like you being down here by yourself, he says. What does she think I'm going to do? asks Vicki--run into a ghost? I don't read her mind, Miss, says Matthew, I just know what she wants and I do it--you'd better get those books of yours and come upstairs with me--unless books wasn't the only thing you're after. Do you believe in ghosts? Asks Vicki. What's that got to do with books? He asks. You've worked here for a long time, she says--have you ever heard any sobbing in the night. Josette Collins, says Matthew, almost to himself--that's who you're talking about, isn't it? You don't believe her ghost still cries here, do you? asks Vicki. Ye-ah, he says. Have you ever heard the sound? Inquires Vicki. Never been in this house late enough at night, he says--she's here, all right, you can feel her, feel all of 'em, and don't try to tell me you can't. My first night here, I heard the sobbing, says Vicki, and I heard is again last night--I thought it came from down here in the basement, so I followed the sound down here--and I'm not sure, but I think it came from behind that door. Best thing for you to do when you hear that crying is to stay in your room, advises Matthew. But what's in that room? asks Vicki. It's a storeroom, says Matthew. Do you have a key for it? she asks. Matthew abruptly grabs her by the arms and accuses her of coming down here--to do some more snooping, not for books! I came down here to find books for David! protests Vicki. Miss, the first day I met you, says Matthew, I warned you about sticking your nose in where it didn't belong--he releases her--there's lots of closed off rooms in this house
--they stay closed--to you and anybody. I can't believe that sound was made by a ghost, says Vicki. You believe what you want to, says Matthew, but believe this, too--I'm not going to let anybody dig up problems for Mrs. Stoddard, not you or anybody else--not while there's anything I can do to stop it. How can my asking about that room make trouble for her? asks Vicki. I dunno, says Matthew, all I know is, she gave orders for you to stay out of this basement, so you'd better forget about those books. Liz calls down, to Matthew, asking if he's in the basement. Yes, Ma'am, he says, I'm collecting some of these old newspapers. Leave that for now, she says, come upstairs--I want to talk to you. Yes, Ma'am, he says, then goes over to tell Vicki that if she wants to know about that room, she should ask Mrs. Stoddard--she's the only one with a key--but take his advice, be like me, do your job and don't ask any questions--about anything. He leaves the basement. Vicki looks at the mysterious door.
Burke sits in the coffee shop, reading a book. Carolyn enters and grins when she sees him. A mystery story, I'll bet, she says. Hello, he says, smiling at her, rising, as a matter of fact, is it, in a way--what is the lovely Miss Stoddard doing down from her hilltop castle so early in the morning? I wanted to get something in the early mail, she says, then thought I'd drop in for coffee. I'm delighted you did, he says. Aren't you going to ask me to join you? she asks. Are you sure it's safe? He banters. It was safe enough last night for Vicki Winters, wasn't it? she asks. He looks uncomfortable. She sits and says she'll just have coffee, thank you. Not even a doughnut? Asks Burke--I've already ordered breakfast, I hate to eat while you're... I shouldn't, says Carolyn, shrugging off her trenchcoat, but I will--OK, a doughnut. Burke orders Suzy to bring over coffee and a doughnut. Carolyn looks at the cover of the book he's reading--THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO--I thought only kids in school read this, she comments. When I was in school, I didn't have much time for reading, says Burke--it's a good book. I remember, says Carolyn, the rich, handsome man of mystery returns to take revenge on...she stops...say, you wouldn't be the Count of Monte Cristo, would you? She's smiling. No, he says, but I'm starved--and he thanks the waitress when she puts his loaded breakfast plate in front of him, then Carolyn's doughnut. Burke Devlin, sent to prison by the cruel Collins family, says Carolyn, as if reading from a newspaper, returns to weak revenge upon them. You think that's why I'm here? asks Burke. Matter of fact, I don't, she says, unless you have deep, dark designs on my little cousin's governess. That's the second time you've mentioned Miss Winters, says Burke--I think you're trying to tell me something. Miss Winters? Asks Carolyn--do you mean she had dinner with you in your hotel room last night?--and you still don't call her Vicki? I'll get around to it, says Burke--just give me time. Carolyn says she doesn't think she will give him time--she bites into her doughnut.
Matthew stands in the foyer, looking rather out of it. Liz hands him a list of the supplies they need--she hopes he can ready her writing. Matthew gazes down at the note and fondly says he always has. It hasn't been too steady the past few days, she points out. Yeah, he says--it's Burke Devlin come back--I don't like that man, Mrs. Stoddard--I don't like what he's doin' to ya--without even mentioning what he almost did to Mrs. Collins. He hadn't done a thing to my brother, says Liz. If you say so, Ma'am, says Matthew, I'll go into town right now and get these things. Wait, says Liz--come inside, please--and she leads him into the drawing room and tells him to close the doors. Burke Devlin was not responsible for my brother's accident, reveals Liz. Then who was? asks Matthew. Liz sits. You were, she says--there was a part of the brake cylinder loose on my brother's car--you knew it--you were supposed to have it fixed--several times--but you didn't--so it fell off. That's not true, protests Matthew, hurt. I know it isn't true, says Liz, but if anyone asks, that's the story I'd like you to tell. Why? he asks. Because it's the story I told the police, she says. I just plain don't understand, he says, aggrieved, why tell a lie like that when we all know it was Burke Devlin. . . It wasn't Burke Devlin! shouts Liz--is that clear?--it wasn't Burke. Yes, Ma'am, agrees Matthew, and although he points out that this will make him look like a fool, he assures her he will do it. Liz apologizes for that, but it was all she could think of to say at the time--will you help me? You ought to know better than to ask me that, he says, with a crooked grin, of course I'll help you--anything you say, I'll help you. She rises and thanks him, calling him a good friend. I try, he says--which is more than a few others can say--that Miss Winters you brought into the house... I've asked you to try and be friends with her, Liz reminds him, please--I've asked you before. You also asked me to keep her out of the basement, didn't you? says Matthew--that's right,
Ma'am, he says at her startled expression, she's down there right now, poking around, looking for who knows what--I asked her to leave, but she wouldn't.
Basement - Vicki is still searching through cartons of books. She wipes her dirty hands against each other and finds Liz standing there. I thought I told you not to come down here, an angry Liz reminds her. I was looking for books for David, says Vicki. I know, Matthew told me, says Liz--he also told me you were trying to get into that room. Did he tell you what I heard last night? asks Vicki. Yes, says Liz, but that's no excuse. There's no such thing as a ghost, says Vicki, and I heard crying--I told Matthew I thought it came from in there. I know what you told Matthew, says Liz, precisely, and I also know what I told you--not to come down here--now I believe you were looking for some books for David? Have you ever heard that sound? Asks Vicki. I've heard the wind, the floors creak, shutters bang--yes, I've also at times heard crying in the night, admits Liz. Where does it come from? asks Vicki. This house--Collinwood--says Liz, there are 40 rooms here, most not in use--and occasionally the wind blows through an open window in a deserted wing. But I've heard it down here in the basement, says Vicki. The same pipes that carry heat carry sound, says Liz. What about that room? asks Vicki. That's nothing but a storeroom, says Liz, and there's nothing in there of importance--certainly no one crying in the night--I'm the only one who has the key, so I should know--now I think that should end our discussion--what books were you looking for? The Rover Boys, says Vicki, resigned. Yes, I know exactly where they are, says Liz, and shows her. I still can't believe that sound wasn't real, says Vicki. Liz looks at her sternly. (Vicki doesn't let go of things easily, does she?)
Carolyn fiddles with a ring, pulling it off and on. Burke returns to the table and apologizes for having to make that phone call--it was Sam Evans--he's going to paint his portrait, he says proudly. I heard about it, says Carolyn. He's a funny guy, says Burke, tried to talk me out of it, even now--you wouldn't know why, would you? Me? asks Carolyn--I have enough trouble finding out why I do things without worrying about other people. He takes her hand and tells her that's a very pretty ring--is it a birth stone? Yes, she says, taking her hand from his, putting the ring back on and dropping both into her lap. Are you nervous about something? asks Burke. Of course not, she says--I'd like more coffee. All right, he says, just a minute--and he goes to the counter to request more coffees and some cream,. (An extra sits at the counter.) Well, he says what's on your agenda for today? I thought I'd leave that to you, she says--I thought I'd offer myself as a guide to show you how things have built up in the Collinsport area while you were away. You mean like the war memorial, the new housing project, new roads, and other fascinating things, says Burke. You're making fun of me, accuses Carolyn, and I don't like it. All right, serious, he says, thanks for asking me, but I'll have to take a raincheck--I'm posing for my portrait this afternoon, remember? Disappointed, she asks how about later this afternoon? No, I have a business appointment, he says. You're just trying to avoid me, says Carolyn. I don't see how I can--or want to--comments Burke as the waitress brings over more coffee. Tell me, says Burke, do you always make friends with your family's enemies? You're nobody's enemy, she assures him. How do you know? he asks--remember, the Count of Monte Cristo returns for revenge and retribution. DO you have to have a business appointment this afternoon? she asks. Yes, he says. Where? she asks. I have to drive up to Bangor, he says. Why don't I go with you? she asks. Miss Stoddard, you shock me, he teases. She makes a face and accuses him of making fun of her again--it's broad daylight--I'm not a child--and I just want to get to know you better. Why? he asks. Why, why, always why, she complains--yes or no, that's all. No, he says. Why? she asks, and they both laugh. Seriously Burke, it'll be a ball, she says--we can have lunch--I know a great place in Bangor. And you can show me the war memorial and the new housing project. I hate you, she grins, so help me, I really do.
Carolyn, he says, sweet Carolyn--I'd love to spend the afternoon with you, but I have private and personal business--and a lovely girl with blonde hair would be completely out of place. She makes a face at him and says it probably has something to do with my family--besides, I'm not a little girl. Maybe not, says Burke, but you needn't make a point of proving it. That was nasty and un-called for, says Carolyn, and just for that, the next time you want to see me, you'll have to call me. She stands and takes her coat. I may surprise you and do just that, says Burke. You won't surprise me at all, says Carolyn, thanking him for the coffee and doughnut--when you decide to call me, I'll be at home, she assures him. Burke shakes his head and picks up his book--under which is the ring he took from Carolyn. He holds it up, chuckling to himself, thinking.
Vicki, arms filled with books, and Liz emerge from the kitchen area. A telephone call for me--who from? asks Liz. A Mr. Calder, says Vicki. Ned Calder?--oh, I've been waiting for that call, says Liz--why didn't you tell me? Mr. Collins answered the phone, says Vicki, it was about two in the morning and I guess he didn't want to disturb you. I was so anxious to talk to him, was there a message? Asks Liz. I don't know, says Vicki, you see, Mr. Collins and I were having a kind of an argument about my being down in the basement. You mean he was up last night when you heard that sobbing sound--what did he say? asks Liz. About the sound, nothing much, says Vicki--he said it could have been the wind, or a ghost, or--he didn't really say. Thank you very much, says Liz, now I think you ought to go upstairs and get David started on his lessons. All right, agrees Vicki, and heads upstairs. Liz goes into the drawing room and closes the doors. She dials Portland, Maine, person to person to Mr. Ned Calder.
Coffee shop - The extra pays his bill and leaves a tip, then Burke. Matthew comes in and walks past Burke without a word, ordering a coffee at the counter. Burke asks Matthew if he knows him. Ay-yuh, says Matthew. You work at Collinwood, says Burke. I want it black, says Matthew. Don't you remember me? says Burke--I'm Burke Devlin. I remember you, says Matthew coldly, the important thing is, you'd better remember me. Why is that? asks Burke. Because if you bring any trouble to Mrs. Stoddard, warns Matthew, I'm going to kill you. He turns back to his coffee. I really think you mean that, don't you? asks Burke. Ay-yuh, says Matthew. But what if they deserve trouble? asks Burke, feeling in the pocket of his vest-that would make a difference, wouldn't it? You heard what I said, Matthew reminds him.
Suppose they asked for trouble? Asks Burke, for problems you want to keep away from Mrs. Stoddard? No one at Collinwood is asking for problems, says Matthew, nobody.
Carolyn returns to Collinwood, announcing herself loudly: "I'm home again!" Vicki comes to the landing, greeting her, and Carolyn runs upstairs, asking her how the tutoring business is. It will be fine once I get my pen filled, says Vicki. Carolyn Stoddard to the rescue, says the blonde, producing a pen for Vicki. If the phone rings, says Carolyn, don't anybody answer it, it will be for me--I hope. OK, says Vicki. See I just HAPPENED to leave my ring somewhere, says Carolyn, and I'm waiting for someone to call and tell me he found it--listen, if you want a whole bottle of ink, I think there's some in the study--I really have to change, I just might be taking a trip to Bangor this evening. Carolyn, calls Vicki, can I ask you a question. Anything at all! says Carolyn, ecstatic. You remember that sobbing I told you about? asks Vicki. You heard it again last night, says Carolyn. How did you know? asks Vicki. Because I heard it, too, says Carolyn--I hope you had the good sense to stay in your room--that's what I always do. But when I told you about it before, says Vicki, you told me you'd never heard it--that I must have dreamt it. From the kitchen doorway, Liz listens. I didn't want to frighten you away, admits Carolyn--but now that you're one of us--sure, that ghost lady sobs--I've heard it, off and on, for most of my life--but right now, I couldn't care less! Where does it come from? asks Vicki. Ghosts! says Carolyn, and like all the rest of us kooks here, you're just going to have to get used to it--I really must change. She leaves Vicki on the landing alone. Vicki goes downstairs and runs into Liz, who says, "I see my answers still don't satisfy you." It's not that, says Vicki, it's just so hard to believe. And you won't be satisfied, says Liz, until you're convinced there's no one hidden in that storeroom. I don't know what to say, Vicki tells her, ashamed. Here's the key, says Liz--if you doubt my word, take it and look for yourself. I didn't say I don't believe you, says Vicki. Well what ARE you saying? asks Liz--here's the key--take it, Miss Winters. Vicki gazes down at the proffered key and tells her, "I don't think that will be necessary." Vicki walks away.
Liz, relieved, clutches the key--she has won another victory.
NOTES: We have Carolyn chasing Burke, thinking she's the spider and he the fly, when it's probably the other way around. Carolyn is very young, and while she thinks she knows a lot, I suspect she doesn't know much of anything--and she's heading for trouble like a moth to a flame.
Matthew adores Liz, so much so, that he's willing to take the fall for Roger's accident. Don't you love the way Liz manipulates everyone in her world from Roger to Matthew to Vicki. Here she offered the latter the key to the room she's so curious about, but Vicki decided it was better off to believe Liz and let it go.
Once again, Liz puts in a call to the mysterious Ned. Why? What is her connection to him?
I love Thayer David, and he's wonderful as Matthew, so protective and dangerous. You believe him when he threatens to kill Burke if he harms Liz, or even Vicki, and that he would do so without a moment's hesitation.
Watch out, Carolyn, you think you're the pursuer, but you are actually the pursuee!
Love, Robin
