SCENE 8
[He added another stroke to the painting. It was beginning to take form. His vision was becoming real, and it frightened him. He wanted to stop, but he couldn't. He had to continue. But something was wrong. One corner of the canvas was empty. At the edge of his mind he knew something was supposed to be there. He couldn't bring it into focus though. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the vision. He painted on.]
SCENE 9
Eagle Hill Cemetery was chilly at night; the wind whistled through the trees and among the gravestones. It certainly wasn't a pleasant night to be burying a body. But that was his job, after all. The gravedigger picked up a shovel from the ground. At least he was almost done. He tromped down the last of the loose dirt with his boot. Wiping his brow, he headed back to the tool shed to put the shovel away.
Dr. Lang and Jeff watched from the shadows. They were silent until the gravedigger was well out of sight. Then they approached the fresh grave. "Okay, get to work."
Jeff looked at the loose dirt. "No. I don't want to do this. It's wrong." He dropped the shovel he was carrying.
Lang frowned. "What is this? An attack of conscience? From you? That's almost laughable." But his voice sounded harsh, almost threatening. "It's certainly nothing you haven't done before."
The young man looked up. "That was before…" he stopped short, not wanting to tell Lang the reason for his hesitancy.
The doctor cocked an eye at him. "Before what? What is this all about?"
He knew he couldn't keep it secret much longer, so Jeff told him. "Before I met Victoria Winters. I don't want to be doing anything to make her think less of me."
Now Lang did laugh. "Do you really think a nice, respectable girl like Miss Winters would be interested in someone like you? Really, now, Clark, be serious."
Jeff turned crimson, partially with embarrassment, partially from anger. "Yes, I do. In fact, I'm sure of it. She's already agreed to have dinner with me tomorrow night."
Shocked for a moment, Lang's face grew serious. "You stay away from Victoria Winters, Clark. Barnabas Collins is in love with her, and I don't want anything to jeopardize his cooperation in my experiment. So you just leave her alone."
"I think that's her decision to make. And it seems she wants to spend time with me." He walked a couple of steps away. "Besides, I feel as if there's some kind of connection between us. A bond, like we belong together. I know it seems strange, but it's true."
A disturbing thought came to Dr. Lang. "Clark, you don't remember her from before you worked for me, do you?"
He turned around quickly. "I don't know. No, I don't think so." But he seemed unsure.
"Look, Jeff, stay away from Miss Winters. It isn't good for either of you to get too involved." The doctor put a hand on Jeff's shoulder. "If you don't, I would be forced to tell her about your past. For her own safety, of course."
A frightened look crossed Jeff's face. "And just how would you be able to do that? How could you tell her about my past, when I don't even know it myself?"
"I know enough." Lang grinned slyly. "What would Miss Winters think if she knew you had been in an institution for the criminally insane for murdering two people?"
Jeff glared at the doctor. "I don't remember that."
"The police in Rockport found you on the dock, standing over their bodies with the knife in your hand, babbling incoherently. What assumption will Miss Winters come to when she finds that out?"
Jeff wiped his forehead. "I know it looks bad. I just wish I could remember anything about my life before that."
"Well, if you don't want Vicki to find out about it, you had better do as you are told," Lang said sternly, picking up the shovel and handing it back to him.
"Alright, I'll do it," he took the tool in his hand. "That doesn't mean I have to like it." And with that he began to dig up the fresh grave.
SCENE 10
Julia watched the dawn break through the window of the drawing room at Collinwood secure in the knowledge that Barnabas was watching it too. Finally he was no longer confined to the night. She was glad, but uneasy. She didn't trust Dr. Eric Lang, and that worried her. Barnabas' life was in his hands.
Dr. Hoffman turned away from the window. But at least he's human now, she thought. If I can just get him to forget about Victoria Winters, everything would be perfect. She left the drawing room and headed toward the kitchen to get some breakfast.
Being an early riser, Julia had become accustomed to eating alone. So she was surprised to find someone else in the kitchen when she arrived. "Elizabeth? You're up early this morning."
Mrs. Stoddard turned around at the doctor's voice. "Oh, Julia. Have you seen Roger?"
Julia shook her head. "No, I'm afraid I haven't. Why? Is something wrong?"
"I don't know. Roger has an early meeting this morning, and I can't find him anywhere."
It was obvious to Julia that Elizabeth was more worried that she let on. Losing her niece Daphne probably made her little paranoid where her family was concerned. Julia tried to put her at ease. "Perhaps Roger already left for the office."
"I already checked the garage. His car is still here. Julia," she took Julia's arm, "I've looked everywhere. He knew how important this meeting is. He's nowhere in the house, and I even called..." she stopped herself before revealing Roger secret. "…the other place he might be." And Maggie Evans was none too happy about it either. "Where could he be?"
"I'm sure everything is alright, Elizabeth," Julia said soothingly. "Roger is a very responsible man. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."
"Responsible?" Elizabeth walked away. "Yes, I suppose it must seem that way now." She turned back. "But it wasn't always so. When he was younger, Roger was somewhat wild, getting into trouble, sometimes serious trouble." Liz wrung her hands. "His marriage and fatherhood changed that, but I still remember how hard it was to keep any control over him after our parents died."
Julia didn't know what to say to that, so she kept silent. Just then, the kitchen door swung open, and there stood Roger Collins. He was disheveled, and his face had a blank look on it. Elizabeth ran to him. "Roger, are you alright?"
He didn't even look at her. Disoriented and confused, his only answer was a distracted "What?"
"Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you." When he didn't answer, she put her hand on his arm. "Roger," she said firmly, trying to bring him around. But she never got to finish what she was going to say. She felt something wet and sticky on her hand, and let go of Roger's shirt. Looking at it, her hand came away red. "Roger, what is all over your shirt?" Liz hesitated. "It looks like blood."
Quickly, Julia was at her side. She looked at Mrs. Stoddard's hand and frowned. Reaching out to Mr. Collins, she got some of the red on her finger and raised it to her nose. "No," was her conclusion. "It's not blood. It seems more like red paint."
Suddenly, Roger put his hand to his head. The light seemed to come back in his eyes, as he finally focused on the women in front of him. "Liz, Julia, good morning."
"Good morning? Is that all you have to say?" Liz was stunned at his nonchalance. "Why is there red paint all over your shirt?" He looked at his stained clothing, puzzled. A thought occurred to her. "Roger, have you begun painting again?"
Roger scoffed at the idea. "No, Sister, I haven't. Of all people, you should know better."
Elizabeth's face grew hard. "Then where have you been all night?"
Walking across to the refrigerator, Roger answered, "The same place I am every night. In my bedroom, sleeping."
Elizabeth came up behind him, took his shoulder and spun him around. "No, Roger, you weren't." He looked at her in shock, bordering on anger. "Wherever you were, it was not your room. Your bed hasn't been slept in all night."
