Part 5 March 22, 2000 8:30 AM Mulder hesitated, once again, before opening his eyes. He told her she didn't have to be there. He was prepared for her not to be there. He would not be angry. He wouldn't. The smell of coffee filtered through his troubled thoughts. He opened his eyes and slowly looked around the room. Coffee and a covered platter was on the table across from his side of the bed. And to his right, were Scully's feet. His eyes drifted downward and took in her jean and sweater clad-figure lying with her head resting on a pillow by his feet, and Charlotte's manuscript propped up on her elevated knees. Not naked, which would be his ideal; but physically present. That was enough for him. He groaned as he stretched. "Surprise," she said, softly. He reached out and grabbed her bare foot in his hand, shaking it slightly. "Morning. You didn't have to get all dressed up, you know." "I thought it would be enough of a shock for you to find me here. Finding me naked would have been overkill. Besides, we have to work," she responded. "I have coffee for you. And there are some bagels and rolls, too. I didn't want to wake you to ask if you'd like anything else. You looked pretty wiped out." "I thought you were in ragdoll mode yourself." She laughed softly. "Sleeping cured that. Now, I'm just blissfully relaxed." "I'm pretty full of bliss myself. How's the book?" he asked, sitting up on his elbows. "Very, very interesting, Mulder. You didn't read any of this last night?" "No. Actually, I was watching a few tapes of some of the movies Charlotte was in. Ran the list of actors through some internet searches to find out how many are still alive and who could be the next victim. And how they might do themselves in. I had just turned the tape off about a half-hour before you came in. Tried to unwind with some normal nighttime viewing." "How many possibilities do you have?" "Eight. From the actors who starred with her in those films only. I don't know about producers, retired military, set decorators or any of the other countless people she might have done it with who promised they'd die for her, too. Does she name names in the book?" "Does she ever." She leaned over the side of the bed and put the manuscript down on the floor. She took her right foot and rubbed it lightly against his sheet-covered crotch. Mulder looked at her, surprise and delight vying for space in the expression on his face. "Are you still trying to apologize to my body parts?" She smiled again and curled her toes into his flesh. "No. It's just another thing I've always wanted to do." "I am here to fulfill your every wish, ma'am." "I believe that constitutes a verbal agreement. Binding in most states." She raised up on her knees and put her hands on his shoulders. "Now, in spite of the fact that you are a complete mess right now, Mulder. . .I would like to kiss you good morning. . .just to prove that I do, indeed, give a crap about you." "The sacrifices you make. . ." "I know," she said before lowering her lips to his in a firm kiss. His hands reached out for her waist and she plunged her hands into his wayward hair and her tongue in his opening mouth. When she felt his hands grip her tighter, she let him go. "Good morning, Mulder." He was about to grab her again but shakily settled back against the headboard. "Yes," he smiled, "it's a pretty damned fine morning. Now, get off me, woman, so I can clean up." 12 PM Mulder's Hotel Room Scully was on chapter 10, while Mulder was finishing chapter 8. He looked up as he took a sip of ice water. "I should probably be throwing this down my pants." "You and me both, Mulder." "Oh, good. Perversion loves company. This is. . ." "Nearly pornographic in detail." "Yeah, I'd say so. And I have run across a bit of pornography in my time." "So you know whereof you speak. God, Mulder, This is-- not Charlotte's style at all. I mean, she talks about love and devotion. Even when she tried to tell me that she slept around a lot--she couched it in very vague terminology. This is blatant--carnal." "And that, folks, is where the co-writer fits in?" "Maybe. Or maybe she can write more than she can say in person. Lots of people allow themselves more freedom when using the written over the spoken word." "From what I'm reading here, she seems to have no problems with inhibition." "Well, we should finish this and go see her again. It just doesn't seem to jive with the image of the woman we've seen so far and--even though it probably has nothing to do with the case, I still want to find out why there is such a big discrepancy between what she says and what she writes." 12 PM Greg Amanti's home He looked into Charlotte's eyes for perhaps the last time. One final request. "Prove your love, Greg. The first opportunity you get. You will, won't you? When the time is right?" His mind reeled back in time. To when he was young and foolish; when life itself seemed a fair exchange for the love boiling within his blood. 6 PM Charlotte Colby's estate Mulder and Scully did not wait for the preferred time for Charlotte Colby audiences. They showed up unannounced at her estate. After a great deal of motion and commotion, the double doors to the drawing room once again opened and Charlotte walked in. "Darlings. You must really give a girl some warning. I'm a wreck." The wreck was wearing another in a long line of silken caftans--this one in a dark purple. A matching turban covered uncoiffed hair. George was probably on call, as her makeup was impeccable but there was still something about her eyes that looked very, very odd. Odder than during the two previous visits. Scully was having a hard time figuring out exactly what the problem was but she was determined to get a closer look at the first available moment. "We had a few questions about your manuscript," Scully began. "Did you read it all?" "Everything that is there so far." "And did you adore it?" Charlotte asked with a smile. "It was very. . ." "Enlightening," Mulder supplied. "Forgive me for asking this, Charlotte--but did you write all of this yourself? It doesn't really sound like your 'voice.'" "Oh, well, of course not. I supplied the basic facts and Jonathan spiced them up. No one wants to hear boring tales of love." "And you're fine with that?" "It's not 1954 anymore, my dear Dana. The reason I've been able to keep myself young--at heart, anyway, is that I've accepted the changes in the world. I may not always like them--and may not want to spell things out in conversation-- but I accept them and live by the rules of the world as it is today. I have a story to tell--of the magic of old Hollywood; of the men I've loved and if sex will entice readers to give my story a chance to be heard--so be it." "And the gentlemen in question--were they made aware of how they would be portrayed?" "I have no idea. I've never had contact with any of them but I'm sure Jonathan told them." "How do you and Jonathan write?" "I tell him stories. He asks questions--sometimes rather rude ones, I will admit--sometimes not. And he writes and I rewrite and then he writes some more and voila--a new chapter is born. It's a lovely collaboration." "Can we watch?" Scully whipped her head in Mulder's direction as he asked the question. An odd request sounding oddly funny, given the context. "If you'd like. We have a session in a few hours. Why don't I have our chef make you some dinner and you can stay till then." Scully was about to decline the dinner invitation but Mulder accepted without hesitation. Charlotte rose from her chair and headed toward the door. Scully recognized her chance and followed her, getting physically closer to the older woman. Up close, her eyes had a definite cloudy appearance. "I just wanted to freshen up before dinner," Scully said, in explanation for her proximity. "Oh, my dear, I will show you the way," she said, reaching for the doorknob. "Wait. Charlotte? Have you had your eyes checked recently? I'm sorry-- but, I'm a medical doctor and your eyes look like they might be developing cataracts." Charlotte drew herself up to her full height. "I see all my doctors as needed, Dana. I can assure you, I am in perfect health," and she walked through the doorway, forgetting to show Scully the way to the ladies' room. Mulder was behind her. "What was that all about? Her eyes seemed normal to me." "No, Mulder. They aren't. There was something slightly off the day we met her. Yesterday, they looked tired and today, there is a definite film there. Even with this bizarre lighting--you can see it rather clearly when you get close enough." "So. She's a little in denial over age-related ailments. Who isn't?" "I'm not saying she isn't. What I am saying is that it's rather odd for these symptoms to be accelerating so rapidly." "Ooh. We can open an X-file within an X-file. I'm getting completely turned on." "What else is new?" she said, and decided to find the rest room on her own. 7 PM Main dining room Dinner, oddly enough, was a rather grand affair for Mulder, Scully and George, who appeared after giving Charlotte yet another "touch-up." Charlotte was "supping" in her room. "You threw the old biddie for a loop, that's for sure. You must announce yourselves. It takes her a while to muster up her people- seeing persona." They were dining in an overly large room, set with fine china and crystal and the ever-present candelabras. Dinner was quickly catered and exquisite. Scully was spearing tender baby asparagus with her fork when she turned to the old makeup artist. "George, have you noticed anything odd about Charlotte's eyes?" "They get that way when she's tired. You'll see. She'll look fine tomorrow. We were worried about it the first time it happened but she's had them examined before. It's nothing." "It's happened before?" "Yeah. A while ago. But then again, my eyes aren't that great anymore either. She set up an appointment but by the time she went, they were looking good again. Doctor said she's fine. So--who knows? Some weird thing she's got. Maybe a little infection and some pus creeping in there." Mulder visibly cringed and put his fork down for a moment. Scully chose to say nothing. "So, tell us, George. What is a typical day for Charlotte like? When does she get up, go to sleep? Things like that?" Mulder asked conversationally. "You don't think she had anything to do with. . ." he trailed off, uncertainty in his voice. "No. I just--background information." "She goes to bed probably around 4 AM, wakes up around 2 PM. Has a body massage some time during the day. She likes soap operas. Believe it or not, she enjoys a long walk on her estate. She has a few dogs outside that go with her. Dobermans. You'd never take her for a Doberman girl, would you? She looks like the type to have those yappy little shits- soos, doesn't she?" They both smiled. "She then relaxes; gets all gussied up for the evening and then-- receives her guests or business associates. No one except us 'hired help' ever get to see her without her finery." "Not even Jonathan?" "Especially not Jonathan. She's convinced he's smitten with her so she has to play up to her image." "And is he?" "No, of course not. She has a certain regal air that most men admire-- even now. But do they want to bed her? I sincerely doubt it." He pointedly looked at Mulder who managed a soft change of facial color at the prospect. Scully nearly choked on a buttery truffle. The door opened and Jonathan Morton came in. He sat himself at the table as a maid suddenly appeared, quickly setting his place. She left the room. "Great service around here, huh?" He smiled at Mulder and Scully. They gave a brief smile in return. "Mr. Morton. . .we were curious about the book. . ." Scully began. "Really? In what way?" He asked as he began to eat with decided enthusiasm. "The book is much more explicit than any of the recollections Miss Colby has shared." "Ah, well. That's natural. When I approached Charlotte and her agent, neither one of them had a thing going for them. Oh, Charlotte was living the life of a retired diva in this mansion but she did, basically, squat. Jeff is an agent for many old stars and does what he does. Makes sure she gets her residuals on time and makes sure he gets his share of them. This book was a godsend. More money for both of them, which pleased Jeff, and more importantly for Charlotte, a chance to bask in the spotlight once again. " "I didn't think she was that concerned with reliving old glories," Mulder stated. "Puh-lease. Every single one of them would sell their rum-soaked livers for another chance at glory. And you know, she's perfect for the role. She led a life that people want to read about. They don't want to read about someone who got married before the age of twenty five, had kids and remained faithful to one spouse until death--yada, yada. No, they want to hear about someone who lived. And she sure as hell did that." "So," Mulder tried to be diplomatic, but couldn't really find a way. "These deaths--aren't necessarily bad for the book." "So far, they aren't necessarily good for the book, either," Jonathan said between bites, "since someone seems to be doing their damnedest to hush everything up. Nothing. Not even the dual deaths were given much press. Surprising, really. Especially now that you guys are involved." Surprising, indeed. 9 PM They sat in the corner by the fire as Charlotte draped herself decoratively on her couch and Jonathan sat on a chair across from her. Mulder and Scully quietly watched them "write." "Tell me about the one that got away, Charlotte. There must have been someone," Jonathan asked. "What?" "Some man. Untouchable in some way?" " I have no idea what you are talking about. No man is untouchable if you make the attempt to understand him. Plus, we've had this discussion before." Scully looked across at Charlotte. She looked very, very tired now. Her eyes were so cloudy there was really no way of determining what their color was. Jonathan stood up and went to the other side of the room to pour himself a drink. "You want one?" he gestured with the bottle to the agents. His green contacts were a stark contrast to the dullness of Charlotte's gaze. The coloring in the room helped accent them. He really was very attractive. Perhaps George was mistaken. Perhaps Charlotte had a small crush on the much younger man, instead of the other way around. "I'll have to look over my notes, Charlotte. I just think it brings a little human interest to have one man be 'the one.' The one you wanted more than any other and for one reason or another, couldn't have," He saw a determined closed off look set in her face. "You look tired. You want to stop early tonight?" Charlotte looked around the room, acknowledging her guests and visibly sucking up enough drive to continue. "It's the shank of the evening. Of course not. Just ask me something else. Something we can actually include in the book." Jonathan gave her a name and she was off and running once more. In full-Charlotte mode. Scully looked across at Mulder and then turned to Charlotte when she suddenly stopped speaking in the middle of the conversation. Charlotte had stopped to take a sip of her drink and when she lifted her eyes. . .they were a clear, bright green. Scully instinctively got up and went to her. "What's wrong, Dana?" She even sounded more alive. "Your eyes. . ." "There's nothing wrong with them, Dana, I told you. . ." "Not now. . ." She bent over the woman and found her eyes to be completely clear. She shook herself briefly. She couldn't explain what had happened to Charlotte's eyes but she also fully acknowledged that she had very little sleep over the past few days and couldn't necessarily fully trust her own judgement. She turned to Jonathan to see if he had noticed, but the man was now busy taking notes. Hollywood. The land of illusions. The room of pink shadows. Time to go back to the hotel. They were getting nowhere and this background check was pointless. 11PM Mulder had barely stepped out of the shower when he heard his cell phone ringing. He took a few long strides into the bedroom and picked it up before the fourth ring. "Agent Mulder? Chief Carter. That list you gave me? Well, I got all the names, addresses, etc from those who still live in California but one of the names--well, it struck a chord. I mean, he's turned up. Looks like an attempted suicide. He's at the hospital. I'm still at the scene, if you'd like to meet me and speak with the son." "I'll be right there. Give me the address." He disconnected and dialed Scully's number. "We might have a lead," he said as he reached for his pants with his other hand. 11:45 PM Amanti's Meat Market Great, Mulder thought. Just got cleaned up for the evening and now will end up smelling like a bunch of cold, dead, frozen cow. Very attractive. Scully was searching the meat locker, looking at the latch that held the door closed. Lawrence Amanti, the son of the man who attempted suicide, was slumped forward in a chair, holding a rather ratty looking towel to his eyes. "I'm going off to the hospital to see if Greg Amanti regains consciousness. He may, or may not. From what I've been told, he was in rather feeble shape to begin with. Not much body fat to protect him and he was in there for several hours, they estimate. But if you get through before I do, could you please look up a couple of things?" She ran down the list of things she wanted as Mulder took mental dictation. He then walked over to Lawrence Amanti. "Tell me what happened?" He had the urge to add, 'son' to the end of his question even though the man was clearly at least two decades his senior. He had the air of someone used to being nurtured; someone who would miss it tremendously if Greg Amanti didn't pull through. "Dad came by the store this afternoon. My son's wife had gone into labor this morning. He told me he'd take care of the shop. It was his store, you know, for many years. He's actually helped out many times since his retirement. So--I went off to the hospital and he stayed behind. My granddaughter was born and I tried calling my dad to tell him the news and I didn't get an answer. Later, I came over to see if everything was okay and there was a sign on the door saying the place was closed. We almost never close. Plus, there were lights on. . .I went in and no one was around. I had been expecting a shipment this afternoon--so, I opened the freezer--and. . ." "Do you know of any reason why your dad might have done this?" "No. None at all. He was so happy over the prospect of becoming a great-grandfather. I--can't. . .it has to have been an accident of some sort." "There are no inner locks in the freezer, are there?" "No, but maybe the door got stuck." "Did it open easily?" He just nodded his head sadly. Mulder phrased his next question as carefully as possible. "Have you heard him refer to Charlotte Colby in the last few weeks?" He looked up in surprise. "Yes, as a matter of fact. How did you know? He's been doing some interviews for her book this past week. That was another thing that made him happy. You could actually see some of what he must have felt back then when they were both young. His eyes had that spark, you know. Like when you're in love." Mulder knew all too well. End of Part 5