The Von Bucati Mansion Part Five:  The Mansion (Blog 38)

The Von Bucati Mansion

Part Five:  Gravenhurst

By Dan Watt with Joyce Montyro

Author of the books Brackish, Queen of Caelum, Sylvia, and Lucy and the Snivel Chair.   Available from

In one of the Crank movies Jason Statham’s character grabs a dismembered hand attached to a gun and uses it.  That scene is meant to be so bizarre that it’s funny.

(Blog 38)

(Part Five:  The Von Bucati Mansion)

“Don’t kill him, my love,” I hear Michelle say as I grab the handle of the front door.

IT WON’T OPEN!  Not to worry, I have the skeleton key.  Geezus I dropped it!  Stop shaking!  Bob will win the fight; he’s always exercising and eating right.  It’s in!


He’s smaller than me and weirdly built so I’ll just shove him out of my way.  He’s smiling at me out of both sides of his mouth.

“Charles!”  He says in that echoing voice that sounds both male and female.  He just stepped forward is embracing me.  “You finally came!”

I don’t want to touch him but I have to go.  I’m pushing him aside but he’s not letting go.  HE’S PICKING ME UP AND CARRYING ME BACK INSIDE!

“Hi Michelle,” I say in a squeaky voice.  That eye inside her head.  It looks like mine, like-like Elizabeth’s.  “Elizabeth?”

“The flavour I chose for now is strawberry, Charles.  Come meet my husband.  While you and I could be very distant cousins I doubt you have any of his blood.  Sar, meet the newest member of the family.”

The giant grins down at me and I fall to my knees weeping.  “I don’t want to die!  I did nothing wrong!”  WHY WON’T THEY LISTEN TO ME!

He’s patting me on the head, as though I’m a small child, and I appreciate that.  Now he’s running his hand over the entire back of my head and resting his fingers and thumb around my neck.

I see Elizabeth in Michelle’s body hugging Onuris.  “Oh, my little darling, you are home and safe now.  But I need some favours.  Can you take out this left eye for me?”  Elizabeth looks in my direction.  “And get your scalpel ready?”

Onuris’s mouth is over Michelle or Elizabeth’s left eye and he’s sucking.  All I can think is that I’d like to wake up from this bizarre dream.

Sar’s fingers and thumb tighten around my neck.  “Sleep,” his deep, accented voice says.

The Von Bucati Mansion Part Five:  Gravenhurst (Blog 37)

The Von Bucati Mansion

Part Five:  Gravenhurst

By Dan Watt with T. Norris

Author of the books Brackish, Queen of Caelum, Sylvia, and Lucy and the Snivel Chair.   Available from

I remember taking my youngest niece (6), goddaughter (6), and my goddaughter’s two sister (4, 13) to see the children’s story Lemony Snicket’s:  a Series of Unfortunate Events.  The movie starts and we find out the Baudelaire children’s house is destroyed in a fire and their parents are dead.  Just remember this is a “semi-erotic” “horror” comedy before you continue reading.

(Blog 37)

(Part Five:  The Von Bucati Mansion)

Michelle is kneeling between the giant’s legs.  I can only see her sandaled feet and her head.  She looks up at him and I hear her say, “Out with the old so the new can come in,” as she does something to his crotch.


I’ve got to get out of here!  Michelle is gulping at the same time the giant sips.  She just wiped her mouth off and is smiling up at him.  “How long has it been my love?” she asks standing up and unfastening her dress.  She has such a beautiful side posture I have to open the wardrobe door a bit more for a better look. Now she’s climbing onto the chair.  She’s bracing her feet at the sides of his legs.  That’s just not right!  He would split her in two!  Janet wouldn’t even want someone that big.  “I want another child,” I hear her say as she moves rhythmically up and down.

“Whose jacket?” the giant asks between grunts.

I see Michelle look over at it.  “Oh, I think we have another guest,” I hear her say.  I’ve closed the wardrobe a little bit more as her head turns in my direction.

Keeping my right hand over it like a shield I flip open my cell phone.  PLEASE LIGHT DON’T BE VISIBLE OUTSIDE THE WARDROBE!  I’ve pushed 911 and there’s a quiet ring as I press it to my ear.

“I’m sorry, all lines are currently unavailable and our answering machine is full.”  THIS CAN’T BE!  I think I’m okay, I hear Michelle moaning and the giant grunting and slurping.

I hear the thudding sound of the outside doors’ knocker.

“I’ll get it,” Michelle says.  She must be putting her clothes back on.  “Put the jacket over your drink, dear.”

I’ll never wear that jacket again!

There’s soft foot falls.  I hold my breath.  They go right by to the front door.  “Hello,” Michelle says in a familiar sounding accent.

“Hi,” says a curt, deep voice.  I know it, it’s Bob!  “I’m looking for Charles Deleppe, his car is out front.”

“Oh yes, come on in Bob.”  Her voice is so seductive.  Her soft steps are followed by the clicking of Bob’s hard soled Timberland Pro’s.

“Not to be rude but that’s a strange looking statue,” I hear Bob say.  “It-it looks very life like.”

“Isn’t it?  Take a closer look.”

“That’s, that’s, Charles jacket.”

“I wouldn’t pull that off dear.”

“Oh my gawd!  Oh my gawd!  Bert?  Bert?”

“More food,” I hear the giant says gleefully.

“I’m going to kill you!”  Bob shouts and I know it’s time for me to go.

He’s physically fit; I know he’ll be fine.  I’m bursting out of the wardrobe and running as fast as I can towards the front door.

The Von Bucati Mansion Part Five:  Gravenhurst (Bog 36)

The Von Bucati Mansion

Part Five:  Gravenhurst

By Dan Watt with T. Norris

Author of the books Brackish, Queen of Caelum, Sylvia, and Lucy and the Snivel Chair.   Available from

Christmas and New Years were on Mondays this year so it thrown me off balance for blogging days.  I’ll try to stay with Mondays after this.  Best not to eat or drink anything while reading the below:

(Blog 36)

(Part Five:  The Von Bucati Mansion)

All the pictures are in black and white.  I see a giant man sitting beside Elizabeth, his deity-like face reminds me of Merenre’s. He’s wearing a grey frock coat and waistcoat sitting in the oversized chair.  Elizabeth looks beautiful dressed in a hoop dress and wearing a pearl necklace with a giant blue gem.  On the man’s lap is a strange baby and I know instantly from its bisexual face it is Onuris.  Onuris is smiling with his arms joyfully up.  But he has no hands.  I peer closer and see strands of something sticking out of his wrists.  Queerest of all is that he has no eyes.

I hear footsteps coming towards the opening beside the sarcophagus that I see now opens to a hallway to another room.  It could be Onuris!  I hurry to the wardrobe and climb inside.  It smells of mothballs and has women’s jackets, and men’s jackets that I could use as a sleeping bag.  The shoes and boots I shift over I could slide both my feet into.  I leave the door slightly ajar and watch.

It’s not Onuris but Michelle.  She’s wearing a semi-transparent vibrant green prom dress and matching sandals.  Her body looks delicious the way she glides into the room.  Her red hair is in curls but her eyes look vacant.  She turns to where I draped my suit jacket over the large chair and moves swiftly towards it.  In the inside pocket she pulls something out.  It—it—it looks like an eye with its optic nerve still attached.  The end of the optic nerve straightens from where the eyeball rests in her hand and attaches to her right eye.



Michelle is smiling now.  She’s reaching into my outer suit pocket with a gleam in her new eye.  She waits and I see the cloth of my pocket shift as something moves onto her wrist.


I hear Michelle whisper.  Bert comes into the room from the same opening Michelle originally did.  Thank God!  I’m going to open the wardrobe door.  No I’m not!  Bert has a battery powered drill in his right hand and a flexible straw as long as my forearm.

Michelle is leading Bert to the smaller of the two ornate chairs.  Together they slide it beside the larger chair.  Bert sits down in the smaller chair.  He has a dunce smile on his face.  Michelle takes the drill from him.


I use one of the jacket’s sleeves to wipe my face.  I need to see what they’re doing now.  Michelle is leading the tallest man I have ever seen out of the sarcophagus to the large ornate chair.  He’s emaciated but I realize he’s the same giant as in the album.  She strokes his long face and bends the top of the straw to his mouth.  The sucking noise is grotesque.

The Von Bucati Mansion Part Five: Gravenhurst (Blog 35)

The Von Bucati Mansion
Part Five: Gravenhurst
By Dan Watt with T. Norris
Author of the books Brackish, Queen of Caelum, Sylvia, and Lucy and the Snivel Chair. Available from

Was it Ghost In The Shell where a person’s brain is removed and placed into a cyborg? Something akin to that happened in the later Dune series by Brian Herbert (son of Frank Herbert the original author of the series) and Kevin J. Anderson. Maybe the brain can be immortal.

(Blog 35)

(Part Five: The Von Bucati Mansion)

My phone GPS shows the Von Bucati Mansion is on the Gravenhurst side of Silver Lake. I just have to follow—WHAT A MORON! I just look away from the road for a millisecond to see where I’m going and an idiot in a black Cherokee truck starts honking at me.
Well this is easy I just follow Silver Lake Road to its end. Now I have to go on a gravel road. I can see a derelict looking mansion with a cathedral peak and a rounded tower on either side. The roof shingles on the main section and two towers are powder blue metal with grooves. That has to be recent. All the walls are stone and mortar. I’m counting the storeys and there’s four not including the attic. A covered walkway with windows leads from the north tower to a massive beige garage with five white doors. The garage roof has a peak and is covered in the same coloured shingles as the house. It must be three storeys high!
DAMN! There are pot holes all over the driveway. I’m making my way to the semi-circular section before the double oak doors. It’s all boggy looking now. I’ll just pull my car to the side and walk the rest of the way.
I have my jacket in my right hand and briefcase in my left. It’s getting hard to find stones big enough for me to walk on without getting my foot in the mucky soil.
I’m at the stone steps to the front door. Blue paint is chipping off the lintel of the double doors. Each door must be nine feet tall. I’m banging the bronze crocodile shaped knocker on the left door. Nothing. Now I’m trying the right door but it won’t open. Well Elizabeth left me a key so I guess I’m an honoured guest. I open my briefcase and slide it out of a legal letter. It’s a brass skeleton key.
The door opens and I’m quite taken aback. I see a short hallway with a hardwood floor covered in the centre by an Athabaskan rug with images of crocodiles and Abyssinian cats. I wipe my feet on the rug. Beyond is an atrium with a mosaic marble floor; the pieces in the shape of ancient hieroglyphs. There are three arched openings leading to other rooms. Two stairs lead up to a balcony at least three storeys up. It’s hard to see because the daylight is hindered by weeping willows and other trees that peak through yellow stained glass windows with friezes of ebony hippos.
To the right opening stands a sarcophagus at least eight feet high. Beside the left opening is an oak wardrobe. In the centre of the room are wooden carved toy animals no larger than my hand sprawled all around an alabaster box engraved with more hieroglyphs. Atop is an open photo album. Between the staircases is a carved wooden table surrounded by two ornate chairs, one that I would look like a child sitting in. I take the book and place it on the table between the two ornate chairs. I hang my suit jacket with the weird thing Onuris gave me over the filial of the oversized chair and sit in the smaller one. I cross my left leg over my right, take up the photo album and take a peak.


The Von Bucati Mansion Part Four:  Gravenhurst (Blog 34)

The Von Bucati Mansion

Part Four:  Gravenhurst

By Dan Watt with T. Norris

Author of the books Brackish, Queen of Caelum, Sylvia, and Lucy and the Snivel Chair.   Available from

The Grinch, A Nightmare before Christmas, Jack Frost, and Corpse Bride might be okay for Christmas but not this story, so I’m sending it your way today.

(Blog 34)

(Part Four:  Gravenhurst)

I’m in my Alfa Romeo 4C with my phone attached to the Bluetooth still hoping Janet will change her mind and turn around in overwhelming desire for one more romp.  The Killer’s “I’m The Man” ringtone comes on as I drive out of the parking lot.

“Charles Deleppe,” I answer.

“Mr. Deleppe, this is Anne from Bracebridge OPP Station.”  Maybe I’ll get lucky later after all.  “We have a situation.”

“Yes,” I reply in my deepest most sensual voice.

“Onuris von Bucati has escaped.  Unfortunately, we were short in space and placed an inmate in the same cell as Onuris.”

“So?”  I wouldn’t want to share a cell with him but he didn’t seem that dangerous.

“We’re not sure what words were spoken between Onuris and the inmate but Onuris went insane and somehow managed to tear off the other inmate’s right hand and gouge out his right eye.”  I felt bile rising towards my mouth.

“The inmate was incarcerated for drinking and driving,” Anne continued.  “So we’re not sure whether to believe what he says or not.  Some of it Chief Shale said is ludicrous.  After we took the inmate to emergency he said Onuris’s left hand detached itself and later came back with keys.”

“What?”  I was about to ask her if she was just flirting with me.  Telling bizarre stories to get my attention.

“We’re still trying to figure out how he escaped.  Chief Shale wants you to come to the Police Station and tell us anything you can about where he might be.”  She didn’t sound flirtatious.

“Certainly Anne.  I’m on my way to go to the von Bucati Mansion.  After that I’ll come by the station.”

“Be careful Mr. Deleppe.”  She hung up.

Onuris gives me the creeps but Merenre terrifies me.  I just need to go to the mansion and drop off whatever is in my suit jacket.  Afterwards I’ll go to the Bracebridge Station and talk Anne into having some drinks.

The Von Bucati Mansion Part Four: Gravenhurst (Blog 33)

The Von Bucati Mansion

Part Four:  Gravenhurst

By Dan Watt with T. Norris

Author of the books Brackish, Queen of Caelum, Sylvia, and Lucy and the Snivel Chair.   Available from

I figure comedy is saying what we really feel or think.  While horror is acting out our darkest thoughts.

(Blog 33)


(Part Four:  Gravenhurst)

I just heard the cupboard door under the sink close.  Janet’s asleep beside me.  The digital night table clock says its 6 a.m.  I’m lying on my back listening.  Now it sounds like a small animal is moving over the floor.  The hall closet is sliding open.  COME ON JANET WAKE UP!  I hear shifting in the cupboard.  THERE’S A CLANG!  I’ve nudged her a bit, as if by accident but she’s still sleeping.

My heart is pounding.  Is it a rat?  I gently knee Janet.

“Wha-what,” she mumbles.

I roll on my side towards the window and pretend to be asleep.  I hear her yawn and get up.  Her footsteps go towards the bathroom.  Nothing happens!  She’s not yelling at the sight of a rat so I slip out of the covers and pull on my pants.

The bathroom door is closed as I tiptoe towards the hall door.  The closet’s sliding door is open about a hand with.  I can hardly move, what if there’s a rat inside.  I PULL THE DOOR OPEN!

My suit jacket, still over a plastic hanger, is lying over my dress shoes on the floor.  I exhale.  Probably just hung it hastily.  Phew!  Wow, my jacket is heavier on one side as I pick it up.  I didn’t think whatever Onirus gave me was that heavy.  I can hear the shower running.

Janet has locked the bathroom door.  I get the unused condom out of the wastebasket and slip it back into its package and put it into my pants pocket.  Leaving it would be a sign of defeat to the cleaning staff.

I hear the hairdryer.  She steps out of the bathroom with her hair long and fluffy, strands flowing over her bare shoulders.  She’s wearing a black bra and her capris.  I smile lasciviously at her but she just guffaws.  “Hurry up mid-size, I have to get back today.”  She brushes past me.  It’s like a punch to the gut.  You had some but you’ll get no more.

I grab underwear, socks, my suit pants and a yellow shirt that highlights my brown hair.  Janet’s on her cell phone.  She curses as I enter the bathroom.  I lock the door and use the toilet.  Once I flush it I unlock the door and turn on the shower.  The water feels good but I wish she would change her mind and soap me down.

As I step out of the bathroom I see her pacing while she talks on her phone.

“That’s great Bob, if you come up and help Charles look for Bert so I can meet with the Smithereens.  I gave you the von Bucati’s Mansion address right.  Good!  Yeah, maybe we’ll pass each other on the 400 when you come up.”

I watch Janet hang up.  “Geez he’s needy.  If I could have your self-obsession in his body, with one part of that body significantly bigger, I think I would have the perfect man.  I have to go Charles, so you’re on your own.  I told Bob to go right to the von Bucati’s so make sure you go there today.”  She rises up on her tippy-toes and kisses my cheek.  “I was upset about Clyde last night.  We can try again some other time.”

“Not now!?” I squeak out.


I try to get another kiss before she leaves but she smiles and turns her head away.  “Au revoir,” she says throwing her purse over her shoulder and grabbing her suitcase.

After all the noises from the hall last night I really don’t want to stay in my room alone.  Off to the von Bucati Mansion I go with whatever Onuris has put in my jacket.

The Von Bucati Mansion Part Four:  Gravenhurst (Blog 31)

The Von Bucati Mansion

Part Four:  Gravenhurst (Adults Only)

By Dan Watt with T. N.

Author of the books Brackish, Sylvia, and Lucy and the Snivel Chair.   Available from


The Italian doctor Sergio Canavero is preparing to do the first head transplant in China.  He’ll keep the head alive by putting it into deep hypothermia.  Interesting that in the 1962 Joseph Green movie “The Brain That Wouldn’t Die” the husband checks out the neck size of different women to see if there’s a fit.  Keep that in mind if someone other than a tailor asks to measure your neck.


(Blog 31)

(Part Four:  Gravenhurst)

Her head leans back as I dig my thumb into the sole of her left foot.  “You should know, you’re the one that introduced him to Elizabeth.”  Her voice drips with sarcasm as she says Elizabeth.

I think of my die cast Ferrari 250 GTO Techno-Promo.  “I did him a big favour.”

“So tomorrow we’ll check out this von Bucati mansion.”  She says pushing her feet into my crotch.

“I could give you a real massage if you lie down on the bed.”

“Fine.”  I watch as she gets up and heads into the bedroom.  The door closes.  A minute later I hear, “Come in.”

She’s lying on the edge of the bed farthest from the window with a single sheet over everything but her head.  I see her blouse, capris, and nylons lying atop the dresser but no bra or panties.

I knead her traps and work my way down to her bra strap.  “It works better if I could take this off,” I say gently tugging the strap.

“Go ahead,” she mumbles.  I work my hands around her back and under until my hands just touch the softness of her breasts.  This is the gamble.  If she says no I have to keep to her back, if she doesn’t say anything I start massaging towards her buttocks.

I see her breathing with her head turned towards the window.  My hands start to slide under the elastic of her panties.  “Oh, just pull it off,” she says.

Now’s the moment!  I start at her feet, work up her calves to her hamstrings, up to her inner thighs.

To my delight she rolls over.  I kiss her inner thigh and work my way up her belly button.  She grabs my head.  I run my tongue around each of her nipples, along the curve of her right breast, over her lower lip and into her mouth.  My left hand is between her legs and she bends her knees.

“Show it to me!” she gasps.  I undue my pants and she swallows me whole as I slide my finger ever deeper.

This is ecstasy!

She pulls me out of her mouth.  “That’s as big as it gets?”


“My ex is in the CFL.  Couldn’t you have used a pump or some kind of injection?”

“I—.” start to say when she starts crying.

“I miss him so much.  I dated Bob from the office for a while because he’s so athletic it reminded me of Clyde, but he’s even smaller than you are!”

Her tears are killing my mojo.

“I have finesse–.” I started to say.

“Get a condom on and prove it,” she says through sniffles.

I get one out of the night table drawer.  She throws her legs over my shoulders.  I grin at her and start a rhythmic movement inside her.

“Harder!” she says at first then “Deeper, deeper!”

When I’m all done I drop the condom into the waste basket, a trophy to say ‘I’m the man’ to any female cleaning staff.  I smile at Janet.

“That was better than Bob,” she says rolling over and covering herself up.  “Not half as good as Clyde but better than Bob.”

I think she just fell asleep.

It’s two in the morning now and I’m sitting on the side of the bed looking through the window at the lights of the bay.   I’ve finished off both bottles of the Kir-Yianni Akakies Sparkling Rosé.  Janet’s lying on her stomach in the middle of the bed now.  I slip under the covers with an open condom package just in case she’s receptive.

Slowly I slide my hand across her back and towards her right breast.  Darn!  She’s squeezed her arm tight against her side.  Now I’m running my hand down her back over her buttocks towards her inner thigh.  She’s clenched her glutes together.  No means no!  I toss the unused condom into the wastebasket on my side of the bed beside the used one.   Maybe she’ll come around in the morning.

The Von Bucati Mansion Part Four:  Gravenhurst (Blog 30)

The Von Bucati Mansion

Part Four:  Gravenhurst

By Dan Watt

Author of the books Brackish, Sylvia, Lucy and the Snivel Chair, and DRAGON (The Emerald of Light) available from

Sometimes you need help writing semi-erotic comedy horror so you’ll see my friend Taylor’s name along with mine here on in.

(Blog 30)

(Part Four:  Gravenhurst)

I went out and picked up a couple of bottles of Kir-Yianni Akakies Sparkling Rosé and a six pack of Grand River Plowman’s ale at the LCBO store on Edward Street.  I kept the receipt; the von Bucati Estate will pick up the tab.  Janet’s still not here!  I’m just sitting on the couch watching a rerun of Baywatch, sipping one of the Plowman’s.  It sounds like scuffling going on in the kitchen.  There’s a bang, wood hitting ceramic floor followed by a thudding noise of wood against wood.

I’m at the edge of the wall that opens to the kitchen now.  I see one of the high back chairs lying on the floor.  The one I hung my suit jacket on.  Whatever Onuris put in it must have caused a counter weight and pulled the chair over.  I stand the chair up and holding my jacket at arm’s length, put it on a clothes hanger and into the closet by the door to the hall.

I hear the intercom.

“Charles?” It’s Janet!

“Come on up.”

In the bathroom mirror I check my hair and up my nose.  Perfect!  There’s a knocking at the door.  Janet has unattractive bags under her eyes but the rest of her looks great.  She’s wearing a white blouse and dark blue caprice.  Nice calves and blood red polished toes!  Her Birkenstock sandals look comfortable and easy to remove.  I take her blue London Fog suitcase with one hand and hug her with the other.

“Have you contacted Bert?”

“No,” I say in a sexy half whisper, “Tomorrow.  You look tired.  Do you want me to start a bath for you?”

“What head exactly do you use the most!?” she asks accusatorily.

“That’s not nice.  Would you like some wine?  I thought we could order in tonight.”

“What about Bert?”

“Haven’t heard anything and decided we could all go to Elizabeth’s house tomorrow.”


“Mrs. Von Bucati.”

She takes out her pink cell phone and punches in a number.  I hear it ringing.  “Bert’s still not answering.”

“He’ll be fine,” I say massaging her shoulders.  “Let me get you a drink and we can talk or watch TV.  Tomorrow we’ll find Bert.”

“Okay,” she says leaning into my strong hands.

I lead her to the couch.    In the kitchen I pour Kir-Yianni Akakies Sparkling Rosé into the two wine glasses I find in the upper cupboard.  The door to the cupboard below the sink bangs against my foot so I kick it back into place.  Something must have got knocked over because I just heard a thud coming from the back of the sink cupboard.  Well, it’s not my kitchen.  The cleaning people can deal with it when I leave.

“Thank you,” Janet says taking the wine glass.

I sit beside her on the couch.  “Here, let me have your feet.”

She slips off her Birkenstocks and turns so her back is resting against the couches’ armrest.  I start kneading her feet.  “What’s up with Bert?” I ask.

The Von Bucati Mansion: Part Four:  Gravenhurst (Blog 29)

The Von Bucati Mansion

By Dan Watt

Author of the books Brackish, Sylvia, and Lucy and the Snivel Chair available from

Is selfishness innate, a way to survive, or is destructive to the everything?

(Blog 29)

(Part Four:  Gravenhurst)

I just pulled up to the police station in Bracebridge.  I feel like retching.  The idea having to see Onuris and get something from him is making me ill.

“Hi Anne,” I say, trying to hide the shaking of my hands.

“I’ll call the Chief,” she says.  Neither of us makes eye contact.

I wait, feeling the sweat from armpits and back soak my dress shirt.  All I can do is tap my foot and look at the posters on the wall about missing children and pets.  Not something I really care about but my voice is constricted so I don’t dare talk to Anne.  Her head is leaning forward staring intently at the monitor.

“When are they going to move Onuris?” the Chief asks.

I jolt and stare blankly at him.

“When—are—they—getting—Onuris—out—of—here?” He says forcefully.

“They can’t,” my voice squeaks out, “All full.  I need to see Onuris.”

“Come on!”  There’s no pleasantry in the Chief’s gravelly voice.

He leads me through the security doors with his card and waits in front of the last one.

I can feel my knees go weak as I step wobbly down the hall of cells.

Onuris is sitting on his bed.  The female side of his face looks puffy.  He steps up to the bars.  “Hi,” he says in that strange echoing voice.  His left eye is covered by a swollen and bruised eyelid.  He’s keeping his right arm behind his back.

I feel defiled as I step up to the bars.  His left hand slips something into the inside right pocket of my suit jacket.  PLEASE DON’T LET YOUR HAND LINGER!  He removes his hand and steps back.

“You delivered the other object to the house?”

“Not yet but I will today.”  I answer.

“My parents will be so happy,” he says with a twisted version of a male and female smile.

“Yup,” I say with a gulp.

“See you,” Onuris says sitting back on his bed.

I head up the hall of cells and the Chief leads me back to the front.  “Try to get him out of here!” He says so only I can hear.

“I will,” I say but it sounds like an empty promise.

I can feel a spherical bulge against my shirt which presses against my skin from whatever he put into my inside suit pocket.  It’s about the size of one of those jawbreaker gums.

“Bye Anne,” I say as I hurry out the door to my car.  I take of my suit jacket and hang it in the back.


Back at the apartment my phone rings.

“Charles Deleppe,” I answer.

“Charles, its Janet, has Bert dropped by your apartment yet?”


“Maybe he went to the Von Bucati Mansion first.  He said Elizabeth von Bucati gave him a key and he was to go there on September First.  Today.”

“I have to go there today myself,” I say with a grumble.

“Do you have an extra bed?”

“No.”  I look around, “Just a couch.”

“Fine, I’ll take the bed and you can sleep on the couch.  I’ll be there later today.”

“Oh,” I say, forgetting all about Bert and the mansion.

The Von Bucati Mansion: Part Four: Gravenhurst (Blog 28)

Part Four:  Gravenhurst

By Dan Watt

Author of the books Brackish, Sylvia, and Lucy and the Snivel Chair available from

Charisma can be the greatest superpower.  The soothing, caring voice that makes you want to do whatever the speaker asks of you.

(Blog 28)

Part Four:  Gravenhurst

I don’t like taking my Alfa Romeo 4C on dirt roads.  I can see The Heka through some pines and weeping willows.  It looks like a mill.  The walls are made of lake stone and mortar and the roof is steeped and covered with copper shingles.  I can see part of a crumbling waterwheel lying to the side of the gravel parking lot.

There’s an old lantern shaped light over the doorway.  It’s the only source of light for the parking lot.  The cars I see are an assortment of wealth, everything from a Toyota Yaris to a Bentley Continental.  Just inside the vintage wooden door stands a bouncer.  He has to lower his head below the door lintel to see me.

“Oh,” he says with a surprised voice that is deep and accented.  “Come in.  Merenre is behind the bar upstairs.”

“Thank you,” I say with that high voice I hate.

I walk up a creaky staircase past a wall of pinewood panels through a double doorway.  Inside the room is full of chatter and the smell of fried food.  Past the square pine tables I can see a long bar surrounded by people sitting on stools.  Shelves behind the bar are stocked with spirits.  The bartender easily stands two heads taller than anyone else.  He’s wearing a white cotton shirt with the front covered by a blue leather apron.  His face is long and brown, with a small mouth.  I think his eyes are brown but it’s hard to tell in the dim light.  The best word, and I hate to admit it, is I feel jealous.  The man is so tall with flawless skin.  Most of the stool attenders are women in flimsy dresses leaning forward to get his attention.

I stand at the bar waiting to order a drink.  Merenre sees me.  “That’s wonderful news,” I hear him say in a deep, sing-song voice to girl he’s just finished pouring a drink for.  Merenre turns his perfect head and calls behind him, “Saoirse, take over for me.”  A girl with flaming red hair wearing a yellow cotton shirt with a low neckline steps out of a back room to the bar.  I peer closer; her eyes are the same as mine.

“Come with me,” Merenre says down at me.

I follow him to a back room with an oak desk.  The top of the desk is covered in ledgers.  Fine Montblanc Meisterstuck black and gold pens lay atop and around the ledgers.  He steps behind the desk to sit on an oversized high back chair with finials in the shape of ibises.  He gestures towards a plain looking high back chair with a green cushion standing just behind the door.  The ibis’s look so real with their long beaks I hesitate before I pull the chair up to the front of his desk.

“Charles Deleppe,” he says with a cocksure smile.

I’m sweating and I can smell it through my cologne.  “Yes,” I squeak back feeling very small.

“Elizabeth let me know about you.  I’ve had people waiting for you.  Have you been to the mansion?”

“No,” I whisper.

“But you saw Onuris.  Didn’t he give you something?”

“No!”  Surely this highly intelligent man was going to believe me over a weirdo hunchback that doesn’t know what gender he/she is.

He’s just staring down at me and I can feel myself sinking lower into my seat.

“You were chosen by Elizabeth.  If Onuris gives you anything, make sure you take it to the mansion.  When Sar is recovered you will be rewarded.”  His massive fists are clenched atop the desk.

“Of course,” I manage to squeak out.

“That is all.”  He smiles at me and I can only think this is as close to a deity, good or bad, I’ll ever get.

I walk through the mill’s main room seeing women of all ages with their arms above their heads with their hands entwined.  It’s enchanting, like watching a cobra half out of a vase dancing to an oboe.

But Merenre has scared and awed me so much I’m shaking, and I just want to get away from The Heka.