Thangaiku Theriyaamal Amma Magalai Oothen
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Whatever Gets You Through The NightChapter 6 free porn video
“I can pull a rabbit
out of a hat.
I can pull it out,
but I can’t put it back.
I can make love ... disappear.
For my next trick, I’ll need a volunteer.
Step right up!
For my next trick, I’ll need a volunteer.”
-Warren Zevon, “For My Next Trick, I’ll Need A Volunteer“
“I never asked for this.”
Gino Giovanni, the young actor playing Count Vincenzo Ramon de San Finzione spoke to the grown men gathered in the cave with him. Cigarette smoke rose up to the roof of the cave from the actors’ cigarettes, but also from the one held by Contessa Helena de San Finzione. She sat next to Larry Compton, the assistant director whom she’d informed of his promotion.
“Three months ago, my father was explaining wine exports to me. Two months ago, the Nazis murdered him and my mother. And an hour ago, I stopped crying about it. I have been too busy being a grieving child to claim my birthright. But claim it, I do. And I’ll take it back from the bastards who stole it all! You are the ones who rescued me from sharing their fate. You are not the ones who started this; they are. But you told them that I was whom they must deal with to finish it! General Schell started this, and I WILL finish it! I ask that you finish it with me!
“You, who rescued me from certain death. You, who have lost loved ones to keep me hidden from the SS. You who had faith that the San Finziones of old would show their descendant the way. Now, they have. And I ask that you join me in seeing it to the end. We shall finish this together, you and I. My finishers ... my ... Squadra de Ultimados.”
The Resistance fighters cheered. Even though the young actor was approaching his 20s, Helen cheered as well. The director yelled “CUT,” said the take was good, and called shooting for the day. The cast dispersed and the crew began shutting down the set.
“We can edit out your cheer, Contessa.” Compton turned to her and said. “I thank you again for the promotion. And I’m still sorry about how it’s come about. Eliot was a nice guy.”
“Yeah, he was.” Helen responded, never being entirely sure how to handle condolences. She hadn’t really had time to mourn her mother before being whisked into the foster care system. And a cup of Propappou’s cocoa that evening took care of any bad feelings she might have had left about Wade’s death that afternoon.
“I have to say, though.” Helen told him with a drag of her cigarette. “This Gino Giovanni kid’s going to make it big. He looks just like Vincenzo!” She muttered the last part. “At the wrong age...”
Larry started to roll his eyes, then remembered who he was talking to and stopped, trying to cover the gesture by pretending to scratch an itch on the back of his neck.
“He tried to fight the studio for you on that.” He informed her. “Personally, if I thought anyone could pull it off, it would’ve been Eliot. If you knew him, Contessa, you know he was obsessed with Spielberg.” Helen nodded at that. “HE might have been able to direct an 11-year-old through that scene and make him believable. I know my limitations.”
“My husband was an unbelievable man, Mr. Compton. I’ll try harder not to micromanage because you’ll be crowded now. Until we can catch Eliot’s killer, you’ll be getting police protection. That’s an order from La Contessa AND your boss.”
“Thanks again, Contessa. This script’s brilliant!”
Helen nodded.
“It took a lot of time to find the right one.”
“I’d love to see more of the writer’s work, but I can’t find anything else by this Juliessa Skankeko.”
“It’s her first work, and it’s pronounced ‘Julie is a skanky cow.’” Helen replied with a long drag. “Our studio hasn’t been around long enough to lose a director before. Either through firing, quitting, or...” She took a shorter drag. “This. I’ve hired them, but I’ve never promoted someone to the job. Head back to the studio, I’ve already informed them; they’ll know the procedures.”
Larry nodded solemnly. He turned to leave, when Helena spoke again.
“Wait.” She told him, looking around to see if anyone was nearby. He turned back.
“Yes?”
Helena walked up to him, looking into her new director’s eyes.
“Tell me if you had anything to do with Eliot’s murder.” She commanded under her breath.
“No.” Compton answered plainly.
“Tell me if you know Heinrich Dietz.”
“Who?” He puzzled.
“Forget I asked. Both things.” She commanded again, smiling. “Nothing. I just look forward to working with you.”
“One down.” Helen thought.
He left for the studio, policia escort accompanying him. Helen looked around the cavern. They were a tourist attraction for history buffs, and Helen had visited more than once to view the displays of her husband as a boy on the cusp of manhood leading the Resistance from and hiding in the old depths.
Those depths were, nowadays, filled with bright lights, warning signs, yellow and black reflective tape, and other modern conveniences that had to be removed for filming. Helen proceeded back toward the entrance. Once she was off the set, all those things returned until she was back in the rays of the disappearing sun over San Finzione.
Helen checked the time on her phone, then put it back in her black Prada Arcade bag while she waited for Scappa to bring the car around.
Detective Inspector Luc Tomas Allaine entered the San Finzione office of Interpol. Generalissimo Hernando Ramirez accompanied him. Agent Giuseppe Fontaine came out of his office to greet them.
“Detective Inspector.” He turned to acknowledge Ramirez. “Generalissimo.” Giuseppe turned back to Luc. “We’ve cleared out an office for you.”
“Merci.” Luc responded, reaching into his bag. “My first task for you, Agent Fontaine, is to send someone to Naples with this.” He produced an envelope and handed it to the Agent. “I did not have time to stop on my way. Inside is a key to safe deposit box #2256 at Biblioteca della Banca d’Italia and my letter of authorization for them. This box contains all of my current information on Heinrich Dietz. We will need it.”
Agent Fontaine nodded and showed Luc to the office they’d cleared for his stay. He thanked the man, and the agent went to find someone to put on a flight to Naples.
Even from behind a desk, Luc had made enemies other than those in his department. A number of organized crime figures and hate groups wanted to see him dead. As a result, Luc had taken the precaution of opening a string of safe deposit boxes across Europe containing the information he had on the people most likely to kill him.
“You said that Dietz was dangerous and that you’d had death threats. I thought nothing of it because Generalissimos get those calls and letters, too. You didn’t say you had a box on him, Luc.” Ramirez told him evenly. “This means that he knows you as well.”
“Oui. I chose not to say because I knew you wouldn’t have let me come if I had told you.”
“No, I would not! If I’d known this, I’d have called the airport and told them to refuse to let your flight land in this country! I’d have given your picture to La Policia and Border Patrol and told them to arrest you and send you home!” He took a breath. “I’d have ... told The Cultured Woman to keep you at home.”
“You didn’t ask, old friend.” Luc said, sitting behind the desk and turning on the computer they’d provided. He waited for the desktop to come up, then emailed headquarters to let them know he’d arrived and was taking charge. Nobody in his department would particularly care that he was gone, however, procedure demanded it. “And if you’d stopped me coming, I’d have simply found another way, and then you’d have Dietz AND myself to hunt down. This way, I get to come to dinner.”
Luc looked at the monitor, examined the desktop, then produced a portable hard drive from his bag and began copying over files.
“It will take at least overnight for me to set this thing up correctly!” He proclaimed. At that moment, Agent Fontaine returned.
“I’ve got someone leaving now.” He informed Luc. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Detective Inspector?”
“Not just yet.” Luc replied, getting up. “We stopped in so that I could do three things: Check in with you, give you that envelope, and start transferring the things that I will need onto le micro. That last, I expect to take until morning; everything should auto-install, just let it run, so I came straight here from the airport. I will go check the crime scene, since I imagine it is closer; then I will be staying with the Generalissimo’s family at Fort Ernesto. I’m not certain of the address; given how this country seems to operate, it is, in all probability, ‘The Generalissimo’s House at Fort Ernesto.’ I will want everyone in for a briefing at 0700. I shall be here on time to give it. We’ll need everyone on this, Agent Fontaine.”
Ramirez gave the Agent his real address.
“Si, sir.” Fontaine said with a sharp nod, then departed. Once he was out of earshot, Luc grabbed his bag off the desk and turned to Hernando.
“You see? An eager beaver looking to please. I mean, Oui, I do want everyone on this and it’s completely serious, but you saw that. They need me, too.”
Ramirez nodded his understanding, watching his old friend work again. It had been years, and Luc had known a bit less about computers before choosing to sit in front of one every night for work. The old energy was still there, though. Luc had A Case. Coffee and other stimulants now would be redundant. That Dietz knew who he was as well and that he’d not even known enough to tell them to land Luc’s flight at the base so he’d be under Ultimados guard immediately still stung, but he would recover.
“Si. That is why I’ve been quiet. You are doing your thing; so, stand back and possibly learn something. I shall consider your decision not to warn me of the box ‘new information.’ So, what is our next move?”
Luc sighed before responding.
“Our next move, Hernando, is to look at the crime scene, then go to your home and see Violeta and the little ones. I do not quite have my head in the game yet. And the sooner we tell her about Sam, and I hug my godchildren, the sooner I can get it off my shoulders and focus on this.”
Luc and Ramirez stood outside the townhouse where Eliot Silverman had been staying and where he’d been shot on the sidewalk out front. He looked up one end of the street, then turned to look toward the street where the Poldouris Family Butcher Shop was located.
“A quaint neighborhood.” He told Ramirez. “Very homey.”
“Si, not many touristas come here.”
“No, I would imagine not. And there was a crowd when you arrived?”
“Si.”
Luc looked back and forth down the street again.
“I take it that the home with the police cruiser out front is the boy’s?” Ramirez nodded. Luc looked again as a thought began to boil. “The fact that I see no Ultimados tells me that you have them on the job as well. And he was playing alone? Unsupervised?”
“There are no pedophiles in San Finzione.” The Generalissimo replied with grim pride. “La Contessa ... sees to it personally that children are safe here.” He added after a moment. Luc understood, having been told the truth about La Contessa’s strange power during a previous crisis. “As for El Ultimados, San Finzione is not a large country; they know where all the best hiding spots are.”
“I see. Why was the director at home when they were making a film at the castle? Wouldn’t they need their director?”
“I asked La Contessa the same question earlier. It was a habit of his to go home for lunch and have a special American spaghetti-like food from childhood.”
“So, who called in the gunshot?” Luc asked before turning to his friend. He gestured to the lights in the windows along the streets and the streetlights that had activated on their way to the scene. “It’s Sunday night, this happened hours ago. People are home, and some have been home all day. It has not rained today?” Ramirez shook his head. “I know that this is a Catholic Nation, but surely, not everyone who lives on this street goes to the same Noon Mass. And no one noticed anything was amiss until the boy ran to one of your public safety statues. Then you have sirens, flashing lights, and people barking orders around the corner, so of course, you take notice. But a gunshot is not worth your attention? Video games and bad behavior would not explain EVERY child on the street except one staying indoors.”
“They are called Propappous, Si. We make movies in San Finzione; The People are starting to write such things off as ‘they must be making a movie over there.’ Almost always, people still report sounds of gunfire to La Policia. I can get that from LeGrasse,”
Luc took out his cigarettes and offered Ramirez one. He lit them both while he thought. The Generalissimo offered his own thoughts to him.
“I understand now why Dietz was so concerned about his face being seen; because if you recognized him instantly, others in your profession will also know him.”
“Mmm.” Luc agreed. “I believe that your country, Mentirosa, and Uongo are the only ones where he has no price on his head. Bounty hunters giving your country the kind of tourism you do not want may further complicate matters.” His eyes lit on a mailbox that read “Le Bessons,” and smiled. Luc walked up to the door and rang the bell. After a few moments, two young women emerged.
“Bon Noir, Mesdames.” Luc addressed them with a small bow and a display of his badge. The two smiled and held hands as Luc continued in French. “My friend, whom you may recognize, and I are looking into affairs this afternoon.” He gestured to Ramirez, who removed his hat and stood at attention, clicking his heels. Luc turned back to the women, trying not to crack up. “Were either of you at home at the time?”
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