February 10, 1936: Contemplating the Replay

She adds a bit more to the nightmare, and explains the plan a bit more.

 

Dear Diary,

 

I slowly sipped green tea from a china cup, while talking to my love during dinner last night. He asked me that if I needed to, I could inform him of the nightmares. I sighed, what would it hurt? Maybe they'd go away if I shared them. He listened attentively.

I told him every detail I mentioned to you a couple of days ago. Except this time, I remembered something else. Right before Cassetti brought the knife across her small beating heart, Daisy opened her eyes. She stared at me accusingly. They screamed in agony. They screamed in anger. They blamed me for this horrible fate. I broke down as I told Bob that. Immediately he wraps his arms around me, offering me all the comfort he could. I sobbed until I must have fallen asleep because when I woke, I found myself laying on the bed of my berth with him seated across from me, dosed off. I moaned, rolled over, and glanced at the clock. 8:52 PM. I only napped for 2 hours, but amazingly the dream didn't appear. I quickly sat up and as cheerfully as I could I whispered Bob's name. Startling him from his nap. His expression brightened as soon as he noticed my change. A smile spread across his face, as he kissed me gently on the cheek.

“I just knew it would go away,” he grinned handsomely.

I returned the grin and sighed. “What did they mean though?” I inquired, believing that all dreams mean something. Bob fell into a deep contemplation. He furrowed his brows, and absent-minded, he reached for my hands. Soon satisfied with his thoughts, he looked up, and caught my gaze.

“I believe you're conscious is getting at you pretty badly.”

“Really now? I hadn't noticed,” I responded with a hint of sarcasm.

“You didn't let me finish,” he placed his index finger over my lips. “First of all, I believe you blame yourself for the incident. Secondly, I think your mind is telling you that after all the gruesome acts he's completed, he needs to be stopped.

“Your mind is telling you, there is reason to kill him. After what he'd done to poor Daisy, it is the just thing to do; the twelve of us, carrying out what the court sentenced him only one year ago.”

“I don't get it. I mean I get what you said, but I understand why I am the one with the nightmare. It wasn't me who sat and watched Daisy that night. It was Greta. Greta was supposed to be keeping a keen eye on her!” A tear slipped down my face. Bob wiped it away, and furrowed his brows once more.

“Hm. I'm not sure of what to say, but I think somehow your mind and heart are telling you that there is reason for killing this man. Justice must be sought upon a man who has done so much wrong.” As he finished, he brought my hands together, and kissed them both. Standing up, he whispered goodnight, and left my berth. It's only the right thing to do, since it was late at night. I smiled, as he left, and sat back and thought.

After a couple of replays of his words, I came to the conclusion he was absolutely correct. If only my mind was clear enough, I would've come up with that on my own! If I may be honest with you because I can't let the others know of this, I was and still am afraid of what is to come. What if my plan fails (which it shouldn't)? What if we get caught? Oh, we can't be caught. Everyone's life would tumble more into Hell than the day we discovered Cassetti bought his way out of his death. We were all so distraught, and on that day we formulated the scheme. I took control of most of the plan, and everyone contributed in their ways.

Originally, we were going to draw lots to determine who would finish him, but in the end, Antonio Foscarelli, the chauffeur, decided that we all should take part in the revenge. I worked out most of it with Hector, who had adored Mrs. Armstrong and found work as Cassetti's assistant. Cyrus Hardman positioned not only Hector as Cassetti's personal secretary, but Masterman as well. Masterman assumed the job of a valet, who is to secretly pour sleeping drought into Cassetti's drink before bed. Once we managed a stable relationship between our two men and Cassetti, we sought out Pierre Michel, and told him of our plan. He was willing. Susanne had been his only child.

Bob wanted twelve people to punish Cassetti. To him it appeared more orderly, like the twelve jurors who sentenced him in the first place. Luckily there are exactly twelve of us lusting for vengeance. Hector, Michel, Masterman, Linda, Greta Ohlsson (Daisy's nurse), Helena's husband (who insisted on traveling with us and taking her place), Cyrus, Antonio, and Hildegarde Schmidt (the cook).

Now that I have confessed to you my mind's deepest thoughts, you are forbidden to leak out information. You are forbidden to fall into the hands of anyone but me. Oh, I would be forced into the electric chair!

The train has just jolted to a stop, I must quickly repack my belongings, and head out to meet Bob. - Mary Debenham

Author's Note

This is so far the longest one. I've taken more time to right this than the others. It also contains more facts from the book.