Suggested changes: {before : after}
On 02/28/2005 06:23 AM, hkmiller said:
"Damn it. Where is she? When's she getting here?" Sigourney Lawley
{grunted : grumbled}. She had a case file open in front of her, a
divorce for a battered woman, but she just couldn't concentrate. She
started tapping a finger on the arm of her chair, looking around the
small apartment for something else she could do while she waited.
I like the new opening. It seems more in character for her.
"Please, let's all sit down," Charlotte urged, gesturing at the
limited seating. The apartment was definitely small: a living room
overcrowded with books; a kitchenette too small for more than one
person to {work : stand in}; a short hallway leading back to a
{single :} bedroom and a bathroom. The few walls not covered by
bookshelves held small framed photographs or posters. "And can we
get you anything?"
Stepping down from paintings to posters was a good idea.
"You may assume that you're representing them, as long as their {own
:} wishes take precedence over the wishes of any adult relatives you
may uncover," Mireille replied readily.
"Mr. Lawley's here is the only signature we have on file, sir. I
advise you to just kneecap him and write off the loss. That's what
Girard would have done," Etienne LeFevre replied. "And then there's
his older brother, the Chief Inspector, to consider. We believe he
washed his hands of Silvester long ago, but he almost certainly cares
about his sister. Girard always said {never to : to never} let the
police take it personally."
"Girard Tufay is dead, ever since that damn {Corsican :} Feyder hit
town. I'm the boss now, and I'm gonna be bigger than Tufay ever was.
We been writin' off too many loans lately; I wanna get more
aggressive on this one."
"I'm from Surabaya, on the island of Java, in Indonesia. My father's
name was Soedjati Tanjung. The same thing happened to me:{ : }we
were playing, we heard shooting, and we hid. Later Mother and Father
Sarkhovsky found me. They told me my family was dead and showed me
the bodies. They took me to the hotel room where Aditi was watching
TV. The next day we all four flew to Moscow and met Grandfather.
The five of us lived in an apartment in the south part of Moscow."
There's a TAB character in my copy.
Shortly afterwards, the four guests left. As she shut the door,
Sigourney turned to face her roommate. "All right, let's have it,
Char. Just what have you gotten me into? What ARE those two women?"
"Two maidens who govern death," Charlotte half-whispered whimsically,
looking at the door.
"WHAT?"
I think she took that very well. Considering.
"Great," Sigourney replied {drily : dryly}. "Okay, let me ask you
this: do THEY think they're on a mission {From : from} God?"
"I wouldn't mind 'knowing' you one more time, Char..." Sigourney
murmured softly, moving her face closer to Charlotte's.
Just then the door-buzzer rang, interrupting them. Sigourney and
Charlotte sighed, then Sigourney got up, went to the door, and opened
it.
Spoil sport. It does move the action along more quickly though.
"Wow! Neat! You guys had a shoot-out here?!" Aditi exclaimed at
the sight of the bullet-holes in the walls of the apartment as
Mireille and Kirika let the girls in. The two girls walked around
the apartment, eyes wide, slowly tracing each bullet hole with a
finger and grinning at each other in utter delight.
"You two can be straightening up while we make dinner," Mireille
said. "Pick up all the chairs and sweep the floor." She and Kirika
carried the groceries {they'd picked up on the way :} into the
kitchen.
I was wondering what condition the apartment was in. Mireille might
have had some time to do some cleaning before leaving for the Manor, but
I didn't think she would have with all she had on her mind.
Over dinner Mireille questioned the girls further, while Kirika cast
a worried eye over Althena's notes. Aditi and {Tai : Tati} finally
agreed on the month when they'd both been orphaned, and Kirika sighed
in relief. In reply to Mireille's quick glance, she whispered,
"China and America mostly, for training. Two jobs, in Mexico and
Peru."
"So, anyway, you guys just have one bed," Aditi noted. "Are we
sleeping there with you? Or on the couch?"
"Stupid!" Tati hissed to Aditi. "Mireille's sensitive to the 'L'
word! We're not supposed to notice that they sleep together!"
Subtle as any ten year olds.
Aditi asked curiously, "So is this like, part of the job or
something? Do Tati and I gotta shag each other when we grow up?"
"NO!" Mireille replied quickly.
"Yes," Kirika replied simultaneously.
Mireille stared at Kirika incredulously.
Kirika shrugged apologetically. "Chloe seemed to think so. And
Althena too."
That makes a certain amount of sense.
"Suppose the two of you had separate tasks, and in the middle of
yours you learned that the other was in great danger, walking into a
trap? And you were only half-finished with your task? Could you
trust the other to stay alive while you finished your job? We had to
learn to trust each other that much, and more."
Except when that happened, Kirika went to save Mireille as fast as she
could.
This does seem to be turning into a Noir training session. Regardless
of M&K's intentions.
Sigourney spent most of the next morning at the American {consulate :
embassy}. To her surprise, she was finished before lunch. She
decided to leave the Russian {consulate : embassy} to the afternoon,
and called Mireille, suggesting that they meet to compare notes.
Mireille knew of a cafe convenient to both their locations, easy
walking distance on a nice day like this.
I'm pretty sure that both countries maintain embassies in Paris rather
than consulates.
As she got near the cafe, Sigourney's spirits sank. She recognized
the neighborhood now; some of her most ill-treated clients had lived
here. Their stories hinted that illicit dealings were common
hereabouts. As her steps faltered, it seemed to her first one, then
several of the people on the street seemed to look about themselves
furtively. The cafe itself made her swallow. Much of the {clientele
: clientle} looked sufficiently disreputable that Sigourney would not
have entered the place under other circumstances. Why had Mireille
suggested such a place?
I'm sure it seems perfectly normal to her.
Glancing around, Sigourney found most of the cafe's {clientele :
clientle} were carefully ignoring the contretemps. The staff was
nowhere to be seen.
Mireille released the man, but kept her guard up until both men were
gone. Then she grimaced slightly and rubbed the bandage on her
thigh. "Five days old and still bothering me," she muttered under
her breath.
I'd expect her to wear pants or a skirt long enough to hide the bandage.
"We've met," Mireille remarked {drily : dryly}. "I can't say I care
to repeat the experience; perhaps we should get down to business?"
Sigourney tapped one fingernail on the table while she digested this
revelation. Unpleasant, but was it any of her business? Yes, it was;
she was on Mireille's retainer now, so Mireille was her client. And,
more importantly, there were the two girls to consider. "{Ok :
Okay}, Simon. You brought it up, so you can just keep talking. What
is her reputation, and what are the facts behind it?"
He sighed. "Well, first of all, there's her family. Lauren Bouquet,
Mireille's father, led the top crime syndicate on Corsica until about
eleven years ago, when the {whole :} family was murdered. The killer
was never found. Mireille and her uncle, Claude Feyder, were the
only family members to survive."
To Sigourney's glare, Kirika looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, but I
couldn't think of anything else to show them. What else is there to
do in Paris?"
Indeed, what is there? :}b
"Good. Why don't you give the girls a real tour of Paris? The one
they didn't get yesterday?"
"BOR-ING! Museums and Churches and stuff!" Aditi proclaimed.
They still got to see an underworld hangout that afternoon, so it wasn't
all THAT bad.