Grand-papa's Tale

It was Teri and Frasier’s wedding anniversary, and they had gone out for the evening to the Courtyard Restaurant.  The children were spending the evening at home with Frasier’s parents, who were visiting from Town.  When dinner had been cleared away, and little Crème had been put to bed, the other children gathered in the lounge room to spend some time with their grandparents.

“Grand-mama, how did you and Grand-papa meet?” asked Milka, dreamily.

“Have you not heard that story, ma petite?” asked her grandmother, in mild surprise. 

The children all shook their heads.

“Tell us, tell us!”

“Hercule?  I think they are all old enough now, n’est-ce pas?  Your grandpere, he will tell it better,” she smiled.  Six pairs of bright eyes turned to Monsieur Chocolat.  He cleared his throat, and put his coffee cup down.

“Well, it was long ago,” he began, “when I lived in Belgium.”

“Was that when you were a policeman, Grand-papa?” asked Cadbury, interested.

“Oui, so it was.  I worked for the Belgian Police Federale, in La Division des Lapins.”

“What does ‘lapins’ mean?” asked Marzipan.

“It means ‘rabbits’,” said Freya, “Shhh.”  Marzipan poked her tongue out at Freya, but subsided to listen quietly.

“It happened that at that time, there was a famous jewel thief at large in the great city of Brussels,” Hercule continued.  “It was not widely known, but evidence had been found that suggested this thief was a small animal, and most probably a rabbit.  The case was therefore given to our Division, and we were hard at work upon it.  Now one day, I was sitting at my desk, and in came the most beautiful young rabbit I had ever seen.”  Here, Honey noticed her grandfather glance at her grandmother, who gave a little smile.

“This young lady was distraught, as she had had stolen from her a most beautiful necklace, which was not only very valuable, but was also a most important family heirloom.  The details of the case you will not find very interesting, but suffice to say that I was quite sure that this was the work of the Shadowy Paw, as we were calling him.  Naturally, I assured this lovely creature that I would do all I could to bring the thief to justice and make him pay for what he had done.

‘Oh monsieur,’ she said, ‘I cannot even think of that.  All I want is for my family’s precious necklace to be returned.’  Well, it was all the same – to find the necklace, I must track down the culprit!

Now a few nights later, there was to be a ball, and all the rich and fashionable society of the city would be in attendance.  This, I knew, would be my chance!  Surely the Shadowy Paw would be at this ball, and would strike again!  I laid my plans, and on the night of the ball, myself and several of my colleagues attended in disguise.”

“As I recall, you looked quite dashing in that tuxedo,” Madame Chocolat interjected.  The little rabbits giggled.

“Go on, Grand-papa,” urged Cadbury.  “Was the thief there?  Did you catch him?”

“I had been keeping my eye upon a particular society lady there that night – a Countess, in fact – who was wearing a tiara of simply outrageous value.  

I felt that on no account could the Shadowy Paw possibly resist it.  Sure enough, late in the evening, the lights went suddenly out!  There was great confusion;  everyone jostling about and exclaiming in the dark.  There was a scream!  Then, just as suddenly, the lights came back on again – but alas, the scream had come from the Countess, as her tiara had been snatched from her head!”

“But who took it?!” breathed Milka.  The children’s eyes were like saucers.

“I acted quickly,” Monsieur Chocolat continued.  “I noticed a door ajar that had previously been closed, and ran straight for it.  I could hear light paws pattering ahead – the thief was fast, but I felt sure I could catch him.”  

He noticed Duke looking slightly sceptical, and pointed out, “I was a little fitter in those days.”  His wife gave a quiet chuckle.  He pretended not to notice, and continued with the tale.

 “The thief finally left the building through a window, but I leaped out also, and collided with him, almost knocking him to the ground!”

“Hooray!” the children cried.  “Did he have the necklace?”

Monsieur Chocolat hesitated.  “Yes,” he replied slowly, “I got the necklace back - and the Countess' tiara, of course.  But I had noticed something rather unexpected.  The rabbit I had collided with, and who had certainly stolen the tiara, was not a ‘he’ at all – in fact, it was a ‘she’.  Dressed in black from head to toe, this young rabbit took one look at me and dissolved into tearful speech.  The tale she told was a sorry one.  How, an orphaned rabbit of good birth but no family, she had fallen in with the wrong sort of creatures, and into bad habits.  How a pretty smile and a certain natural talent for thievery had been encouraged, and honed to a skill unparalleled.  How she longed to escape from this dishonest life, to live among decent, quiet creatures, and to become one of them herself.”

“Did you believe her?” asked Honey, bluntly.

“She was very persuasive,”  her grandfather replied.  “I agreed to give her a chance.  She was thankful for this, and a little shaken.  She did not expect it, I think.  But I made two conditions:  that she was to turn everything she had stolen over to me, so that it might all be returned to its previous owners.  And that if she ever stole anything again, I would alert the authorities to all her previous crimes.”

“You mean you let her get away?”  Cadbury was incredulous.  The other children stared, too.

“But you promised Gran – I mean, the beautiful lady – that you would bring the thief to justice!” cried Honey.  “Grand-mama, what did you think of this?”

“I thought he was very kind,” Madame Chocolat said quietly. 

“I know what you are thinking, children,” said Monsieur Chocolat.  “I am not sure, even now, that it was the right thing to do.  I simply felt that there was something about this young rabbit – that she deserved a second chance.  And I have no regrets.  But the very next day, I resigned my post with the Belgian Police force.  I felt that I could not ask them to trust my judgement in the future, when I myself found this decision so questionable.”  There was a silence, broken finally by Marzipan’s voice.

“Did she give all the jewels back, Grand-papa?” she asked, timidly.

“She did,” he answered with a smile.  “And since then, she has done much charity work, and raised a wonderful family.”

“None of which, of course, excuses the dreadful behaviour of her youth,” his wife pointed out sternly.  “She was extremely lucky not to spend many years in prison.  It is perhaps what she deserved.  And your grand-pere would have gained much prestige in his career for tracking her down.”  Then she relented, looking fondly at her husband.  “But I for one, am thankful that he acted as he did.  He showed a great kindness and selflessness that day.”

“Well, at least you got your necklace back, I suppose,” said Honey.

“The necklace?  Oh, ma petite, the lady with the necklace – that was not me!” Madame Chocolat exclaimed.

“What?  But I thought – “

“I still can’t believe you didn’t capture the thief, Grand-papa,” said Freya, perplexed.

“Ah, but ma chere, who says that I did not?” replied her grandfather, his eyes twinkling.  He took his wife’s paw, and they exchanged a loving smile. 

Freya stared at them for a moment, and then started to laugh.