Episode 2 Fashionable Harts

Based Upon The ABC Television Series Created By Sidney Sheldon

Written By Sara Duckworth 

Note: This episode is based upon a plot from a script that was written for season 6. 

Jonathan and Jennifer’s Suite At The Hotel Ritz In Paris,France 15 Days Later

Entrance Of Hotel Ritz Minutes Later

Max is standing at the the passenger's side of the black limousine along with the Harts' American chauffeur driver, James, a younger man in his forties, talking to each other.  Just then Jonathan and Jennifer walk out of the hotel through the revolving doors with a bellhop behind them. He is carrying their suitcases and lots of shopping bags with expensive souvenirs that they had purchased during their stay. Jennifer is walking Freeway, who is on his leash, in front of her.

"We're sorry we kept you waiting," Jennifer says as they walk down the stairs and approach the vehicle.

"It's no problem, Mrs. H," Max replies. "James and I were just discussin' the race tracks."

Jonathan and Jennifer glance at him with a grin on their face, not at all surprised by how Max had been occupying his spare time with James. They know placing bets on horses is one of Max's favorite hobbies. James opens up the trunk. He starts helping the bellhop with placing the luggage into the trunk.

"Here, let me give you a hand with 'em," Max says, walking over to the back of the car and helping with the luggage. 

"Be careful with those bags, Max," Jennifer says, pointing to the two that Max is holding in his hands. "They have perfume bottles in them. Wait a second. Let me see those bags. I forgot which ones contain the bottles now."

As Jennifer is about to head over to the back of the limousine to look through the bags, Freeway spots a white French poodle, with bows in her hair, being walked around by the owner on her leash across the other side of the street. He is instantly in love! Without warning, Freeway hurries after the poodle, his leash flying out of Jennifer's hand. 

"FREEWAY!!!" Jonathan and Jennifer both yell in shock and alarm at what their beloved, adopted dog has just done.  Fearing for Freeway's safety, Jonathan and Jennifer instantly chase after the dog who had a very good head start on his owners. Max and James stand speechless, watching the Harts chase after Freeway.

"There's never a dull moment with Mr. and Mrs. H," Max says out loud, shaking his head in disbelief at what had just occurred. "James, let me have the keys. I'm drivin' after Mr. and Mrs. H and Freeway," he says with worry in his voice. James hands him the car keys. Max rushes over to the driver's side, opens the door, gets in, starts the engine, speeding after his employers and their pet. 

Jonathan and Jennifer are running after Freeway as fast as they can with Jonathan ahead of his wife.

"Freeway, come back here, darling!" Jennifer shouts.

"Freeway, come back here, boy!" Jonathan shouts as they head right onto a side street.  

Freeway is running so fast, he is panting. Nevertheless, it doesn't discourage the little dog from chasing after his "true love." The poodle has never even noticed Freeway so therefore she is not aware she has an admirer chasing after her. The same goes for her owner, a 57 year old sophisticated French lady, dressed in the latest fashion. She is carrying an expensive purse over her left arm and a fashion magazine, Vogue Paris, August 1984, under her right arm.  Suddenly a limousine pulls up to the side of the street next to the curb where the poodle and her owner are walking. Freeway stops a moment, with a curious expression on his face, watching as the poodle and the lady enter the back of the limousine after being helped into the car by the chauffeur.  Freeway barks loudly, which causes the poodle and the lady to turn in his direction. The poodle barks back. She leaps out of the car running toward Freeway across the street. Cars are forced to slam on their brakes to avoid hitting the poodle.

"ADELE!" the lady yells outraged at her dog running away in a split second just because of  another dog. Adele reaches Freeway. They begin cuddling up to each other and become friendly quickly. By now, Jonathan and Jennifer have managed to catch up to them. 

"Oh, Freeway, darling! Thank goodness you're safe!" Jennifer exclaims out of breath as she and Jonathan approach the dogs. "You scared mommy and daddy."

"Looks like Freeway found himself a girlfriend," Jonathan says upon witnessing Freeway kissing Adele. 

"Well, is this your pet?!!" the lady asks with annoyance after walking up to the dogs and the Harts.

"Why, yes it is," Jennifer replies, taken back a bit by the woman's attitude. "We're sorry for the trouble our dog caused you."

"I would say so! I'm due at Vogue in only half an hour!  Thanks to this wet nosed mutt, I'll be late! You tourists really should keep a close eye on your pet! This stupid dog of yours almost caused my darling Adele to be run over by some blasted car!!!" she yells, losing her temper.

"We apologize for any inconvenience, Madame," Jonathan says. "We had our dog on a leash, but when he saw your dog he ran off before we could restrain him."

"Yes, well, next time pay more attention to your mutt! I'm a very busy lady. I have no time for any carelessness!" she replies, glancing at her wristwatch. "Oh,  Confondre! I'm already ten minutes late!" 

Max drives up behind and comes to a stop. 

"Oh, come on, Adele! Enough of that nonsense!" she yells at her dog as she walks over and picks her up, holding a firm grip on the leash. Freeway barks, disturbed at Adele being taken away from him. “Oh, shut up, you brat! You have caused enough problems for us for one day! Go find a mutt that is in your class."     

Jonathan and Jennifer glance at each other, stunned by the woman's rude and arrogant behavior. The lady runs across the street after looking both ways.  Max approaches the Harts as Jennifer picks up Freeway, holding a firm and tight grip on his leash. 

"Hey, what is goin' on? Anythin' wrong?" Max asks.

"Other than having to deal with Miss Cruella De Vil herself, everything is just fine, Max," Jonathan replies as he watches the lady, with the poodle, drive off in her limousine. Freeway whines, sad that the poodle he is "in love with," is gone.

"What happened with that dame? She looked like she was ready to punch your lights out."

"I think she was, Max," Jennifer replies. "Darling, can you believe how she treated Freeway and us?" she asks, turning to Jonathan. "You'd think we purposely let Freeway run off the way she was acting."

"Well, she did mention she was headed to Vogue. Those in fashion tend to be caught up in themselves," Jonathan says. 

"Vogue? I never heard of that fashion designer before, Mr. H. Of course I have heard of that Christian Dior fellow," Max tells Jonathan.

"Max, Vogue isn't a fashion designer," Jennifer explains, chuckling. "Vogue is a well- known fashion magazine." 

"Fashion designer, fashion magazine," Max says. "Ain't no difference to me." 

Jonathan and Jennifer grin at Max’s response. 

“We should be heading on our way. I have to catch our jet in time to make it to the board meeting,” Jonathan says, turning to his wife. “Come on, Freeway. Mommy and daddy have to fly back home now.” 

Jennifer places Freeway back on the sidewalk. As she attempts to walk their dog on his leash once again, he refuses to budge. He barks and then cries loudly. Jennifer, Jonathan, and Max stare at Freeway in surprise and concern.

“Darling, I get the distinct feeling Freeway isn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of us heading back home,” Jennifer says, worried. 

Freeway barks and nods his head. 

“I believe you’re right, darling,” Jonathan replies calmly, but with concern in his voice. 

“Looks like you’ll be late gettin’ to that board meetin',”Max says. “That pup is in love, and he ain’t gonna budge until he sees that dame’s poodle again.” 

“Oh, I’ll make it in time for the board meeting. I’m going to head back to Los Angeles while you and Jennifer stay here. I’ll fly back to Paris in a few days. Darling, you’ll have to get in that lady’s good graces,” Jonathan tells Jennifer. “It’s the only way we can get Freeway to get over his crush.”

“Get in that dame’s good graces?!!!” Max asks in shock. “What do you want Mrs. H to do? Kiss her feet?”

“I think I know what Jonathan is plotting,” Jennifer replies with a smile as she turns to Jonathan with a curious expression. “You want me to approach her about writing an article on Vogue. You have a good plan. I know who that lady is.”

“Who?!!!” Jonathan and Max both ask at the same time. 

“She’s Vedette Carbonneau. She’s the Editor- In- chief for Vogue. I have seen her being interviewed once on television. Jonathan, I’ll get right on trying to set up an interview just as soon as we drop you off at the airport.” 

“I got to hand it to you, Mrs. H. You and Mr. H certainly do think alike,” Max replies, impressed. 

“You know what they say. Two heads are better than one. Or I should say two Harts are better than one,” Jonathan says, placing his arm around his wife. 

Freeway barks and nods in agreement.

“Well, thank you for making the final vote, darling,” Jennifer says as she pets Freeway. 

 Airstrip At Le-Bourget Airport For Private Planes Over Thirty Minutes Later

Jennifer and Max along with Freeway are walking with Jonathan, who carries his suitcase, towards the steps leading up to the door of their Grumman Gulfstream II jet. 

"I'll call you at The Ritz after the board meeting to see how things are going," Jonathan says as he is walking with his wife, hand in hand. 

"I'll be looking forward to that phone call, darling. I wish you could stay, but I understand about that board meeting."

"I'll be back before you know it." After they reach the steps, Jonathan takes his hand out of Jennifer's and turns around, giving her a quick kiss goodbye.  "I love you," he tells her as he begins to walk up the steps. 

"I love you too," Jennifer tells her husband, blowing him a kiss. 

"Take good care of her, Max," Jonathan says as he blows Jennifer a kiss.

"You certainly can count on it, Mr. H," Max replies. "Have a safe flight."

"Thanks. Good luck with Cruella, darling," Jonathan tells her as he reaches the last step.

"Thank you. I certainly will need good luck with that woman," Jennifer says. 

"Goodbye, Max. And Freeway, be a good boy for your mommy and Uncle Max while daddy is gone," Jonathan says as he goes into the plane.

"That'll be the day," Max says as he looks at Freeway, standing on the ground in front of Jennifer and himself, whimpering as they hear the jet's engine starting.

"Oh, don't worry, Freeway," Jennifer says, looking down at the dog. "Daddy will be back soon. We'll miss him together." Freeway barks and nods in agreement. "Come on, Max. We've got things to do."

"Right, Mrs. H, and don't worry. If anyone can win over that dame, it is you." 

Vogue Later

"Jennifer Hart? Did I get that name right, Madame? You wish to interview Madame Carbonneau for an article about being the Editor- In- chief for Vogue?" a senior assistant asks Jennifer who is standing in front of her desk. Jennifer is carrying a notepad and pencil with her. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes, the name is Jennifer Hart, and yes I do wish to interview Madame Carbonneau for an article about being the Editor- In- chief For Vogue. I'm afraid I don't have an appointment. I didn't think it would do any harm just to drop by to see if she could spare some time for an interview."

"Well"- the assistant begins to say as her intercom is buzzed. "Excuse me, Madame Hart," she says as she presses the button on the intercom. "Yes, Madame Carbonneau?"

"Is there a problem concerning my coffee? Have you forgotten your way to the cafe? Do you need directions?" Madame Carbonneau asks on the other end of the line, annoyed and frustrated. 

The assistant rolls her eyes before responding. "Sorry, Madame Carbonneau. Just as I was getting ready to leave, a lady showed up wanting to see you."

"Who is it?" 

"Her name is Jennifer Hart. She is a journalist. She wants to interview you. Madame Hart wishes to write an article about you." 

There is a few seconds before there is a response. "All right. Send Madame Hart in and then get me my coffee if you can spare the time."

"Right away, Madame Carbonneau." The assistant turns off the intercom. She looks up at Jennifer. "You can go in, Madame Hart," she says as she gets up from her chair.

"Merci," Jennifer replies, nervously as she heads to the office as the senior assistant gets up from her chair and runs out of the building, carrying her purse with her. The door is closed. Jennifer opens it as she goes in. Madame Carbonneau is sitting in front of her desk glancing down at some photos of some fashion models. Jennifer shuts the door and walks up to the desk. 

"Good morning," Jennifer greets, smiling as the woman looks up at her for the first time. “Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice.” She is shocked to see it is the same woman she had encountered earlier that day.  "Yes, it's me, the lady with the mutt. His name is Freeway by the way." 

"Really? How interesting," Madame Carbonneau replies in an uninterested and cold tone. "Well, let's get on with the interview," she says as she sits back in her chair. 

"Of course," Jennifer replies as she sits down in the chair in front of her. She opens her notepad and prepares her pencil for taking down notes for the interview. 

"It is policy here at Vogue to ask my permission before sitting down," Madame Carbonneau tells Jennifer, annoyed. "But since you're already seated, don’t bother to get up," she says just as Jennifer is getting ready to stand up.  "Now on with the questions. I haven't got all day."

"Yes, Madame Carbonneau, I understand. I'll try not to take up too much of your time. Now the first question I would like to ask you is what made you decide to choose this profession?"

Their interview is interrupted by the ringing of a telephone on her assistant's desk. 

"Oh," Madame Carbonneau sighs, annoyed, as she swings around in her chair. "Why doesn't anyone answer the telephone? Is the place on fire that I'm not aware of?" she asks sarcastically. 

"Your assistant just left to get your coffee," Jennifer explains. 

"I don't recall asking you, Jenny."

"It's Jennifer."

"Yes, well, whatever. Now what was the question?" she asks as she returns her gaze to Jennifer. The telephone continues to ring which enrages Madame Carbonneau.  "For crying out loud, do I have to do everything myself?!! How long does it take to get a blasted hot coffee?!!!"

"I wouldn't mind answering the telephone for you," Jennifer tells her, trying to calm her down, offering so she can get on with the interview.

"Good. Do it then." 

Jennifer places the pad and pencil on the floor and then hurries out of the room to answer the telephone. But by the time she reaches the desk, the telephone had just stopped ringing. 

"Who is it, Jenny?"

"I don't know. The phone stopped ringing before I could answer it."

"I guess that is just my luck then. Now get back in here, Jenny."

"Jennifer," she tells the lady once again as she retakes her seat. "The question I asked you was, what made you choose this profession?"

Once again they're interrupted by the ringing telephone. Jennifer gets up once again and hurries out of the room to answer the phone. Luckily this time she manages to pick up the receiver before the caller hangs up. 

"Bonjour. Vogue. Madame Carbonneau's office. May I help you?" The caller hangs up. "I guess not," Jennifer says as she hangs up the receiver. 

"Who was it?"

"I didn't have a chance to find out, Madame Carbonneau.  It must have just been a wrong number. They just hung up."

"Yes, well, get back in here. Quickly, quickly."

Jennifer does as she is told as she rushes into the room. She retakes her seat. 

"Now the question I was trying to ask you was what made you choose this profession?" she asks as she picks up her notepad and pencil just as the assistant returns with her cup of steaming hot coffee which she places down on her desk.

"Oh, I finally get my fresh coffee after I've been waiting an hour. And do you think you could get back to your desk? Jenny here has been attempting to answer the calls."

"Jennifer," Jennifer tells her once again, her woman's behavior starting to get on her nerves, but managing to compose herself. 

"Yes, well, whatever," Madame Carbonneau replies, waving her off. "Oh, and where's my dry cleaning?" she asks her assistant as she starts to leave the room.

"Oh, I apologize, Madame Carbonneau. I knew you wanted your coffee so I thought I would bring it to you before picking up your dry cleaning. I'll go get it now."

"Never mind. Jenny here will get the dry cleaning. You just stay at your desk and answer the telephone if that isn't too much effort." 

"Yes, Madame," the assistant says as she glances over at Jennifer who returns her gaze as the assistant returns to her desk.

"Are we sitting or are we getting the dry cleaning?"

"Uh, yes, I'm on my way now. What is the name of your dry cleaners?" Jennifer asks as she rises from her seat.

"Bore my senior assistant with your question," Madame Carbonneau replies. Jennifer walks out of the office with a look on her face. How did I get myself into this situation she wonders?

Vogue Short Time Later

Jennifer rushes toward Madame Carbonneau’s office carrying her dry cleaning. She knocks on the door. 

Jennifer and Jonathan's Suite At Hotel Ritz That Evening

Jennifer is in the bedroom of the suite sitting on the side of the bed with the receiver up to her left ear waiting for the operator to put her call through to her and Jonathan's house in Bel Air. She finally hears the phone ringing in their house as she waits for her husband to answer the call.

    The Hart House In Bel Air

Jonathan is asleep in the bed of his and Jennifer's bedroom when he hears the phone ring. He turns on the lamp on the table beside him on the left. He picks up the receiver and answers the call. "Hello? Jonathan Hart," he replies, tiredly.

"Hello, darling. I'm sorry to be returning your call so late," Jennifer says on the other end of the line.  

"No worry, dear," Jonathan replies. "Even at two o' clock in the morning is worth waking up to hear your voice." 

"If you feel that way then I'll call you back at six o' clock," Jennifer says, teasing. 

 "I don't miss you that much," Jonathan says also teasing. Jennifer replies with a chuckle. "I called you right after I got home from the board meeting. Busy day shopping after the interview?" he asks.

"It was busy all right, but not the way you would expect," Jennifer replies with a sigh.

"What do you mean, darling?" Jonathan asks concerned, sitting up in bed. "Is Freeway giving you anymore trouble because of his crush on Cruella's dog?"

"I wish it was Freeway, darling, but it is more like Cruella herself giving me trouble. You'll never believe what happened today when I showed up at Vogue."

"She wanted to charge you per minute for the interview?"

"If only that is what she expected. I was hired to be her personal assistant," Jennifer tells her husband, reluctantly.

"Her personal assistant?" Jonathan asks, stunned. "How exactly does a journalist go about getting a job as a personal assistant for a Editor- In- chief of a famous fashion magazine such as Vogue when all she wanted was to get a chance to interview the woman?"

"I've been wondering the same thing myself since she shocked me with the news. When I began asking her the first question, I couldn't even get an answer because she was so distracted. The next thing I knew I was answering the telephone because her senior assistant was out getting Miss De Vil’s coffee. Then when the assistant finally showed up with the coffee, I was told I would get her dry cleaning. When I showed up with the dry cleaning, the next thing I knew she was on the phone saying she didn't need to find a personal assistant anymore because she found one. I guess I don't have to fill you in on what happened after she hung up the receiver."  

"No, you don't. I can guess the rest. Darling, why did you let her talk you into being her lady- in- waiting?"

"I don't know. I'm still in shock at all that happened after I showed up at Vogue. I guess I just couldn't say no. That word obviously isn't in the woman's vocabulary."

"It is only in her vocabulary when it applies to everyone around her," Jonathan replies. 

"That certainly is a fact."

"What is on your schedule for tomorrow? Taking her to get a massage?" Jonathan asks with a bit of sarcasm. 

"Oh, don't even say that, Jonathan. With the way she was driving me today, that would just be my luck. Don't jinx it," Jennifer says with a little alarm in her tone. 

"You're right. With Queen Victoria as your employer, you would never know what her highness would expect you to do."

"Well, let's drop the subject for now. How did your board meeting go?"

"It went well just as I expected. I was thinking of you every minute."

 Jennifer and Jonathan's Suite At Hotel Ritz

"Every minute?" Jennifer asks with a grin on her face.

"Well, more like every other few minutes. I did have to focus on driving to the office and then the board meeting."

"Naturally," Jennifer replies. "When are you coming back to France?" 

"I'll be arriving back in the City Of Love after I get on our jet late in the morning."

"In that case, I'll let you go back to sleep. I want you well rested and energetic after you arrive. I need some consoling soon after you get back," Jennifer replies, seductively. 

"You got it, darling. I can not wait to console you," Jonathan replies, seductively. 

"Oh, I'm counting the hours. Goodnight, darling."

"Goodnight, darling. Just promise me you will not let her highness push you too far. And be careful."

"I promise. And what do you mean be careful? Are you afraid of her taking all my time away from my main priority?"

"No, that's not what I'm afraid of. I was just thinking about the last two times in the past the danger you were in when you were involved in the world of fashion."

"Oh, I remember those incidents all too well. Besides this time is different. I'm not directly involved like I was when I was modeling for fashion. There are not any psychopaths at Vogue except Madame Carbonneau herself." 

"Maybe I am overreacting. Just seems fashion tends to lead to trouble for you."

"Fashion isn't the only thing that tends to lead us to trouble. We seem to be drawn into it wherever we are."

"You do have a point. Just be very cautious. Goodnight, darling."

"I will. Goodnight, darling." 

   The Hart House Minute Later

Jonathan hung up the receiver and turned off the light. He is lying in bed awake, his mind thinking back to the past when his wife's involvement was in fashion put her life at risk on two separate occasions. 

Jonathan's mind returns to the present, and he closes his eyes, trying to drift off to sleep. 

Vogue Later The Next Day

Once again Jennifer is being treated like a Peon by Madame Carbonneau. She is seated at a desk across from the assistant's desk. Just then the door to the entryway opens. Madame Carbonneau walks into the outer office carrying her purse in her hand as she had just returned from having lunch. 

"Good afternoon, Madame Carbonneau," Jennifer greets her with a smile. "Did you have a nice lunch?" she asks.

"Come into my office, Jenny," Madame Carbonneau replies as she slings her purse down onto Jennifer's desk. Jennifer looks at her in disbelief at what her "employer" just did. 

"Oh, and bring in the mail," Madame Carbonneau says, stopping in the doorway of her office.

"I'll bring it right in," Jennifer replies.  She picks up the mail on the desk that the mail clerk dropped off during lunch. Jennifer looks over at the assistant as she makes her way to the office. The assistant is polishing her nails as Jennifer rolls her eyes as she opens the door to the office and walks in. Jennifer walks over to the desk and puts down the mail. 

"Were there any calls while I was out?" Madame Carbonneau asks without glancing up at Jennifer while looking through the mail and sorting it out.

"Yes, three. The first caller hung up just like they did yesterday, the second call was from Karl Lagerfeld from Chanel.  He wants you to call him back soon as possible. The third call was from your ex- husband. He also wishes that you call him back soon as possible." 

"My ex- husband," Madame Carbonneau says annoyed as she opens an envelope with no return address. "He certainly knows how to ruin my day."

"Yes, well, will there be anything else?" 

"Yes, call my massage therapist to make an appointment for this afternoon at 4:00."

"Oh, Jonathan!" Jennifer whispers to herself, thinking back to what he said last night.

"Did you say something, Jenny?"

"No, nothing," she says as Madame Carbonneau brings out a photograph of herself that someone had cut her head off of. Jennifer stares at the photograph in shock and alarm: thinking back to what Jonathan said about being careful and how fashion tended to lead her into trouble. Oh no! "Am I going to be in danger again?" Jennifer thinks to herself.

"Nothing for you to worry about," Madame Carbonneau says, noticing the expression on her face. "It's just a practical joke and in very bad taste. Not to mention those obnoxious phone calls I have been receiving at my apartment for two weeks now."

"I don't mean to speak out of turn, Madame Carbonneau, but it seems to me your life could be at risk.  If you have been receiving threatening phone calls at your home and now a photograph of yourself with your head missing, it has to be more than just a practical joke," Jennifer says with concern in her voice. 

"Jenny, let me give you some words of wisdom. Like every other business woman or business man, I have my enemies. I did not get to the top where I am today without stepping over some people to get my way. But if you're too chicken and am going to worry over some sick practical joke by some sore loser, than feel free to alert the police. I suggest you do it on your own time though. Your phone calls are for business matters only. Do I make myself clear?" Madame Carbonneau asks as she throws the photograph into the waste basket.

"Yes, definitely," Jennifer replies.  

"Good. Get me Karl on the phone after you make an appointment for my massage."

"I will get to that now for you. May I have that photograph you just threw into the trash? The police will want to look over it in their investigation."

Madame Carbonneau rolls her eyes. She takes the photograph out of the waste basket which she hands over to Jennifer. 

"Merci," Jennifer replies, taking the photograph and leaving the office. "You're welcome," Jennifer whispers to herself as she shuts the door. She once again looks at the photograph with concern.

"Yes, Jennifer, Madame Carbonneau isn't exactly known for her tact," the assistant replies, hearing what Jennifer whispered to herself. 

"So I noticed," Jennifer says as she walks over to the desk still glancing over the photograph which sends chills down her spine.  She puts the photograph down, picks up the receiver, and dials the number of Madame Carbonneau's massage therapist. 

Swimming Pool At Hotel Ritz The Next Night

Jonathan and Jennifer are relaxing in the pool as they lay against the side with their back and feet touching the water. They have the pool to themselves since it is almost nine thirty. Half empty cocktail glasses lay on the ground behind them. 

"Relaxing in the pool is just what I needed after a hard day's work," Jennifer says with contentment. 

"You know, darling," Jonathan says. "You don't have to continue being that witch's slave. Though we want to get Freeway to see Adele again, it isn't worth the stress it is putting on you," he tells her as he begins rubbing her shoulders which are tense.  

"I know, darling," Jennifer replies. "But if I quit now, I don't think Freeway will have a chance to see Adele again. I get the impression Madame Carbonneau is about to let me bring Freeway over to her apartment soon so he can see his girlfriend. I do have another reason I think I should stay."

"Oh. Do you think she is going to give you a raise?" he asks, teasing.

"That is very funny," Jennifer replies, chuckling. "No, I'm very concerned about her no matter how rude and self- centered she is among other things. She told me day before that she has been receiving obnoxious phone calls for over two weeks now, and in the mail she received a photograph of herself with her head cut off. Madame Carbonneau just blows it off as a sick practical joke. Oh, also there has been another strange thing happening at Vogue every day now. Once a day when I pick up the receiver at my desk, the caller hangs up soon as I answer."

"If you think Madame Carbonneau's life is in danger, then that's another reason you should quit," Jonathan tells her, concerned.

"Jonathan Hart, since when do we walk away from people who need our help?" Jennifer asks with a bit of disappointment in her voice.

"Since two times in a row where my wife was in danger because she was involved in fashion one way or the other. For a change we should let the police handle this matter."

"I already called the police yesterday evening and told them about the strange incidents happening. They said they couldn't take action unless she was actually threatened. Only thing the police are doing to handle the matter is to bug her phone at home and mine at the office."

"Darling, I have always appreciated and admired your concern for those who have crossed our paths, but this time I really do think you should reconsider. However, whatever you decide, I'll stand by and support you like always," Jonathan replies as he reaches over and gives her a passionate kiss before giving his wife a chance to respond.

"Thank you, darling. And I have always appreciated and admired your respect and trust for my own judgement. I'm going to stay at Vogue and see this situation through to the end like always, but there's something you ought to know," Jennifer says, turning to her husband with a smile.

"What is that?" Jonathan asks, returning her smile as he goes back to rubbing her shoulders.

"Your concern and worry for my safety is not only touching, but very charming," Jennifer replies, seductively. 

"Some of my stronger qualities," Jonathan says, teasing. 

"Since when does Jonathan Hart brag?" Jennifer asks, playfully as she turns around and embraces him.

"Since his wife pays him a compliment like that," Jonathan replies, seductively. 

"I guess I'll just have to watch my compliments from now," Jennifer says as she gives him a wink.

"Don't even think it, Jennifer Hart," Jonathan says, smiling. Unable to resist his temptation, he swims a few feet away. He begins splashing water playfully with his feet onto his wife. 

"Well, two can play at this game, Jonathan Hart," Jennifer says, smiling as she begins kicking water onto her husband too. This continues for a few more seconds, the two of them enjoying this fun and playful time together. Jennifer swims over to Jonathan and embraces him.

"Now how about we dry ourselves off and go back up to our suite where we can have some privacy?" Jennifer asks, seductively.

"I think that is the best suggestion you have made tonight," Jonathan replies, seductively as he gives her another passionate kiss. "If we stay here any longer, we'll be kicked out," he says, smiling. Jennifer smiles, laughing at her husband's comment. They swim over to the front of the pool, walk up the steps, and go over to a chair and table nearby. Their towels and robes are laying on the chairs. They pick up their towels and dry themselves off. They then pick up their robe to put on. Jonathan takes Jennifer's hand as they head on their way out.

Jonathan and Jennifer's Suite A Few Minutes Later

The door of their suite opens. Jonathan and Jennifer enter the room just as Max and Freeway walk in.

"There you are. I've been wonderin' where you went, Mr. and Mrs. H," Max says.

"Why? Are you timing how late we stay up, Max?" Jennifer asks. 

"Of course not, Mrs. H. It is just half an hour ago you got a phone call from that dame from Vogue. Or maybe I should say that Cruella De Vil dame."

"What?!!" Jennifer asks in shock.

"My thoughts exactly when she called," Max says.

"I wonder what she was doing calling you so late, darling," Jonathan says, turning to his wife. "It is almost ten o' clock."

"Madame Carbonneau has a motto, darling. It's work twenty four seven."

"That may be the case, but someone should remind that dame that business hours are nine to five," Max says. "She said to tell you it was urgent you return her phone call. Do you want me to come down tomorrow with you to scope her out, Mrs. H?"

"Not at the moment, Max. Thanks for the offer," Jennifer replies. "Did Madame Carbonneau say what she wanted?"

"Nope. She just left a phone number for you to return her call. I left a note with the number on the table by your bed."

"I'll go call her back now," Jennifer says reluctantly, rolling her eyes as she heads to the bedroom.

"You know, Max, I have never been a violent man, but if there ever was a person I could kill right now, it would be Madame Carbonneau," Jonathan says, turning to him.

"I can certainly understand why. That dame is enough to get under anyone's skin that they would feel tempted to kill her," Max says.

"I'm more concerned about her getting under Jennifer's skin right now. Madame Carbonneau has been driving her much too hard. I can't believe Jennifer let her talk her into being her personal assistant."

"You know Mrs. H. She can hardly ever say no to anyone."

Jonathan and Jennifer's Bedroom In Their Suite A Minute Later

Jennifer is sitting on the side of the bed with the receiver in her hand, waiting for her call to be answered. Finally after a few seconds her call is answered by a male voice with a French accent.

"Bonjour. Madame Carbonneau's residence. Whom should I say is calling?" he asks.

"Bonjour. This is Jennifer Hart. I'm returning her call. She called half an hour ago and left a message for me to call her back. She said the call was urgent."

"Ah, yes. I remember seeing Madame Carbonneau making that phone call. Please hold on a minute, Madame Hart."

"Merci," Jennifer replies as she waits for Madame Carbonneau to come to the phone.  After a few seconds, Madame Carbonneau's voice comes on the line.

"It is about time you called me back, Jenny," Madame Carbonneau says with annoyance in her voice.

"Well, I apologize for missing your call, Madame Carbonneau. My husband and I were enjoying some time at the pool," Jennifer explains, nervously.

"Details of your personal life don't interest me. Now I was supposed to fly to New York tonight to attend a fashion show tomorrow. Due to some absurd, slight weather issue my flight was canceled. I need you to find a way for me to get there in time for the fashion show tomorrow afternoon," Madame Carbonneau replies before hanging up the receiver before Jennifer could respond. 

She is in shock and speechless at what Madame Carbonneau just ordered her to do as she hangs up the receiver. Just then Jonathan enters the room.

"Is everything all right, darling?"

"Jonathan, Madame Carbonneau's flight to New York tonight has been canceled," Jennifer replies.  "She has a fashion show to attend there tomorrow afternoon."

"Don't tell me she expects you to get a flight there in time for the fashion show?"

"Uh, yes she does, darling," Jennifer says. "How about you calling our jet's pilot to see if he can fly her tonight?" she asks as she rises from the bed.

"It is late over there in California and since the airport canceled her flight, then there is no way our pilot is going to fly her to the Big Apple if the weather is bad," Jonathan replies just as Max comes into the doorway.

"Mr. H is right," Max tells them as he enters the room. "I just listened to the weather forecast. There are bad storms happenin' over there right now that you just wouldn't believe. The weather guy said New York hasn't seen a storm this bad in years."

Jennifer looks at Max and Jonathan, speechless, worried what she is supposed to do.

"Madame Carbonneau just said her flight was canceled because of some slight weather issue," Jennifer says in shock.

"If you had just listened to the weather report on the radio, you could have told that dame yourself that the weather issue isn't slight," Max says, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Darling, I wouldn't worry about getting her highness a flight. I doubt the fashion show will go on now,” Jonathan tells his wife gently.

Vogue Two Days Later

Jennifer is standing in Madame Carbonneau's office being scolded as she stands in front of her desk. 

"And what do we see here?" Madame Carbonneau asks as she picks up International Herald Tribune off of her desk to show Jennifer an article about the fashion show she had missed in New York.

"Umm, it looks like an article about the fashion show you had missed," Jennifer says, nervously.

"Very clever of you to notice that," Madame Carbonneau says, coldly. "I regret to say that you were not as clever to find a way for me to make it there in time for the show itself. Would you care to tell me why?"

"Well, it seems to be because of the weather not being cooperative," Jennifer replies with a smile and chuckle, in an attempt to hide her fear and anger at the woman.

"We do not chuckle here at Vogue. Everything is taken with great seriousness," Madame Carbonneau says staring at Jennifer with annoyance and anger in her eyes. She slams her hand down on the desk, which startles Jennifer, causing her to step back a bit. "Your job is to do everything I ask of you. You seemed willing to do everything I expected of you except getting me a flight to New York in time," Madame Carbonneau continues as she rises from her seat and paces back and forth behind her desk.  "Now why was that one simple thing too hard of me to ask?!!! I demand an explanation at once!!!" she says, sternly as she raises her voice while she stops pacing to look at Jennifer directly in the face with both hands on her hips.

"Madame Carbonneau, I was willing to get you a flight to New York. I just couldn't because the weather was so bad. My husband, Jonathan, didn't even think they would have the show since the storm was so terrible."

"Excuses, excuses," Madame Carbonneau replies, shaking her hands at her. "That is all I get from my employees. Get me Calvin Klein on the phone at once so I can apologize for not making it to the showing on time because of your incompetence," she says without looking at Jennifer, sitting back down in the chair which she swings around with her back towards her. "That is all. Go back to your desk."

Jennifer is burning with rage at this point, but she doesn't let it show. She can't believe she has been scolded by a Editor- In- chief of a fashion magazine like she was some child being reprimanded by a teacher in school. She just turns and walks out of the office, quietly shutting the door behind her. 

"Why did I get the feeling I was back in school?" Jennifer asks out loud. She approaches her desk and sits back down. Just as she picks up the receiver and is about to put the call through to New York, an older man bursts in. He is fuming with rage and anger. He approaches Jennifer's desk.

"Is The Wicked Witch Of The West in her office?" he asks through gritted teeth.

"Why, yes she is," Jennifer replies with a smile, trying not to laugh at the man referring to Madame Carbonneau as The Wicked Witch Of The West from The Wizard of Oz. "She doesn't want to be disturbed at the moment. Could I help you?"

"Yes. You could strangle that ogre for me," he says as he makes his way to Madame Carbonneau's office. 

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist you don't go into Madame Carbonneau's office," Jennifer says as she rushes after him as he opens the door to Madame Carbonneau's office. Madame Carbonneau swings her chair around and notices him, giving a look of disapproval. 

"I'm sorry, Madame Carbonneau. He just wouldn't take no for an answer as you can see," Jennifer says, awkwardly at this new predicament that she has found herself in. Madame Carbonneau just nods her head at Jennifer as she rises from her seat. She faces the man, who is standing in the middle of the room. Jennifer sighs as she closes the door, glad that she didn't get scolded again. She rolls her eyes and makes her way to the desk. Suddenly she hears shouting coming from Madame Carbonneau's office. Madame Carbonneau and her visitor are in a heated argument.

"The Wicked Witch seems to have ruffled someone's feathers," Jennifer says, talking out loud to herself again as she picks up the receiver.

"JENNY, HOLD ALL MY CALLS AND DON'T PUT THE CALL THROUGH TO CALVIN KLEIN YET!!!" Madame Carbonneau yells from her office.

"I'm more than happy to hold your calls for once, not to mention being at your beck and call for a while," Jennifer says, quietly. The mail clerk shows up at the entryway, his hands full of mail. He knocks on the door. Jennifer sees him. She rises from her seat to open the door for him.

"Merci, Madame Hart," he tells Jennifer as he comes in while she holds the door.

"De rein," Jennifer replies, smiling. "How are you doing today?" she asks as he gives her Madame Carbonneau's mail including a brown self-sealed envelope. 

"Fairly well. Merci. How are you doing yourself today, Madame Hart?"

"Other than being chewed out by the boss, I'm doing fine. Merci."

"Ah, yes, I can tell she is in another one of her charming moods," he says, shaking his head in disbelief as the argument continues in Madame Carbonneau's office.

"I think that is putting it mildly to say the least," Jennifer replies as she takes the mail to her desk and places it down. 

"Yes, it is. Madame Carbonneau is so mean, arrogant, and egoistical I'm surprise she hasn't been killed long ago," he says. The word, "killed," making Jennifer nervous as she glances through the mail. "Have a good day, Madame Hart. Au Revoir."

"You have a good day yourself. Au Revoir," Jennifer says as he walks to the door and heads out. "Vogue is certainly a cheerful place to work. I'm glad I'm not going to be her lady-in-waiting permanently." As she finishes sorting through the mail, she notices that the brown self- sealed envelope doesn't have a return address. She glances at the envelope itself which is addressed to,

Madame Carbonneau

Vogue Paris

3 Avenue Hoche

75008 Paris, France

Jennifer looks around to make sure no one is watching. She takes the scissors from her desk and carefully cuts open the top of the envelope. She places the scissors back and looks into the envelope. To her horror and shock, she once again finds a photograph of Madame Carbonneau with her head cut off, only this time the picture of her head is included with the photograph separately. She sees a typed written letter is stapled to the bottom of the photograph of Madame Carbonneau's head. Jennifer quietly reads the words out loud without pulling the photograph out so as not to leave traces of her fingerprints. 

"You have walked over people long enough! Remember the old saying, "What goes around comes around!" That time is coming soon, Madame Carbonneau! Very soon!"

The threatening letter sends chills down Jennifer's spine as she looks at the photographs in front of her speechless.  Not knowing what else to do, but feeling she has to take action to prevent Madame Carbonneau from being killed, she picks up her purse on the floor by her chair. Jennifer places the purse on her lap. Taking the envelope, she shoves it into her purse before placing the purse back on the floor.

Madame Carbonneau's Office Minute Later

Meanwhile the argument is continuing inside Madame Carbonneau's office.

"I will not listen to another word!!!" Madame Carbonneau shouts. "I'm the Editor-In-chief!!! I can run this empire anyway I see fit!!!"

"You stole my ideas to print in next month's edition, and you have the nerve to act as if it is no big deal?!! You do know that stealing someone's idea is considered illegal?!!" 

"Are you trying to blackmail me?!" she asks as she turns to face him.

"I'm not blackmailing you! That wouldn't be good enough, but killing you would be!"

"And are you aware that threatening someone's life can cause severe consequences?" Madame Carbonneau asks, slyly.

"Yes, I know, but I'm not going to kill you! I'm not cold hearted enough as you to ever commit any wrongdoing. That includes murder!!! I am going to see an attorney about this soon as I can. That is not a threat, Madame Carbonneau! That is a promise!!! You're one of the most obnoxious and ambitious women I have had the misfortunate of knowing! I have never in my life known such a cold and unfeeling person such as yourself! I honestly don't know how you can manage to sleep at night!!!"

"Yes, well, how I sleep at night is my own affair! If I want to steal your ideas, I will! I can guarantee you that no attorney will take the case against me! I can promise you I will have ten attorneys on you so fast your head will spin! I'm Madame Carbonneau! I run Vogue the way I want, and no one employed by me or anyone else for that matter is going to stop me! If you can't accept the way I run this fashion magazine, then you have two options! Go about your job and keep your mouth shut on how I run Vogue or I can fire you! Which is it going to be?!!"

"You can go straight to hell, lady, before I let you get away with stealing my ideas!!! I'll save you the trouble of firing me! I QUIT HERE AND NOW! I will turn my resignation in immediately! I can promise you that getting out of Vogue and away from you will be the best decision I have ever made in my life! I regret even hearing the name Vogue and even choosing this profession!!!"

"I have had enough of this childish, immature outburst!! Get out of my office NOW and STAY away from Vogue before I have you thrown out!!! I have never tolerated this kind of behavior from anyone!! I'm not going to start now!!!"

"Oh, trust me, leaving your office will be such a pleasure, Madame Carbonneau!!!" the man yells as he heads toward the door.  "JUST REMEMBER ONE OF THESE DAYS YOU'RE GOING TO PUSH SOMEONE TOO FAR, AND YOU'RE GOING TO GET WHAT IS COMING TO YOU!!! I WILL FIGHT YOU TOOTH AND NAIL ON THIS NO MATTER WHAT IT TAKES!!!!!!!"

"GET OUT NOW!!!!" Madam Carbonneau yells at the height of her lungs. "GET OUT BEFORE I CALL SECURITY!!!!!"

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO CALL SECURITY!!! I'M LEAVING THIS MOMENT!!! I JUST WANTED TO WARN YOU THAT I'M NOT ALL TALK AND NO ACTION!! BY THE WAY WHEN AND IF ANYONE KILLS YOU, I WILL BE DANCING ON YOUR GRAVE!!!" he yells as he throws opens the door. He storms out, his face turning red.

He passes Jennifer on his way out, who unfortunately heard all of the argument.  Jennifer is very unnerved and uncomfortable at what had transpired between Madame Carbonneau and her visitor. The man throws open the adjoining doors to the entryway, slamming them shut to the point they could have shattered. Madame Carbonneau storms her way over to Jennifer, who is stilling processing all that had taken place during her presence.

"Jenny, call security at once. Tell them under no circumstances to allow Avellino Aubuchon into Vogue ever again," she says sternly, still fuming from her argument with the man. 

Jennifer nods as she picks up the receiver and calls security while Madame Carbonneau storms back into her office, slamming the door shut.

"This is Jennifer Hart, Madame Carbonneau's personal assistant. Would you please see to it that under no circumstances that Avellino Aubuchon is permitted into Vogue? Merci," she says before hanging up the receiver.

The intercom buzzes on Jennifer's desk. Jennifer rolls her eyes as she presses the button. "Yes, Madame Carbonneau?"

"Did you call security?"

"Yes. I just got off of the phone with them."

"Good. You can put the call through to Calvin Klein now," she says.

"Yes, I'll put the call through right away," Jennifer says, reluctantly. She turns the button on the intercom off. She picks up the receiver and dials the operator. Once again the intercom is buzzed. Jennifer sighs, her patience wearing thin as she presses the button. 

"Yes, Madame Carbonneau?" Jennifer asks, controlling her temper. 

"Once my call is put through to Calvin Klein, make a dinner reservation for me at Maxim's at 8:00. Then call my manicurist to set up an appointment for 4:00 for a manicure and pedicure. Call my chauffeur to have him pick me up here at 3:45. Go to Le Bar at L' Hotel to get me a bottle of my favorite wine. That'll be all for now," she says.

"Could this day get any better?" Jennifer says sarcastically after turning off the intercom waiting for her call to be answered. 

Jonathan and Jennifer's Suite At Hotel Ritz Hours Later That Night

Jonathan is standing in the bathroom of their suite that night getting ready to have dinner out with his wife. He just has to put on his evening jacket soon as he finishes putting on his tie which he is struggling with.  Just then he hears the door to the suite open and shut. 

"Good evenin’, Mrs, H," he hears Max greet Jennifer. "How was your day?"

"I'd rather not talk about it, Max," Jennifer replies. 

"All right if you say so," Max says with concern in his voice.

Concerned Jonathan walks into the living area of the suite where he finds Jennifer lying down on the sofa half asleep.

"Darling, are you all right?" Jonathan asks as he approaches her.

"That woman is driving me crazy," Jennifer says with annoyance in her voice. "I can't believe the things she expects me to do."

"I take it today was the worst day ever working for Cruella?" Jonathan asks as he stops trying to tie his tie sitting down next to his wife on the sofa.

"I think calling her The Wicked Witch Of The West would be more appropriate," Jennifer says sitting up struggling to keep her eyes open. "Jonathan, what are you doing all dressed up?" she asks as she notices for the first time he is dressed up in a suit. 

"Darling, we had planned to go out on the town tonight for a dinner cruise on The Seine."

"Oh, that is right. I'm so sorry, darling! Madame Carbonneau had me doing so many errands for her, I just forgot. I'm too tired to even think straight."

"Don't worry about it. If you're too tired, I rather we stay in and enjoy a nice, relaxing dinner together with just the two of us," Jonathan tells her as he reaches over to kiss her just as Freeway jumps up on her lap. "On second thought, I guess I should say the three of us."

"You know what they say, Mr. H," Max says on the other side of the room where he is sitting by a table reading the newspaper and smoking a cigar, "Three is a crowd."

"In that case Max, I don't know how to tell you this, but-"

"You don't have to say another word. I get the hint. I think I'll just go out and have dinner here at The Ritz after enjoyin' a few beers at Bar Hemin'way," Max replies as he puts his cigar into the ashtray and gets up from the chair. "See you later, Mr. and Mrs. H," he replies as he opens the door, heading on his way out.

"Have a good time, Max," Jonathan shouts after him. He looks over at Jennifer, who has fallen fast asleep, with her head laying against his shoulder. "Well, so much for a quiet dinner for two. What do you say about me calling up room service for just something for you and me, Freeway?" he asks looking at the dog. Freeway barks as he nods his head.

Jonathan and Jennifer's Suite The Next Morning

Jonathan and Jennifer are in the bathroom of their suite the next morning getting ready. Jennifer is standing in the shower, with the water running, while Jonathan is talking to her as he stands in front of the mirror on the left shaving.  He is dressed in his silk pajamas. 

"You know, darling, last night was the first time we ever slept together without making love in a very long time," Jonathan says.

"What?" Jennifer asks, raising her voice. "Darling, you're going to have to speak up! I can't hear you with the water running!"

"I said last night was the first time we ever slept together without making love in a very long time," Jonathan says, raising his voice. "I never been one to complain, but I have to be honest. I felt like I was sleeping alone."

"I'm sorry, darling. I'll see if I can get off early. We'll have that dinner cruise we planned last night."

"It is not the cruise or your exhaustion that is bothering me. What is getting to me is that your lack of energy since you started working for Vogue or rather working for The Wicked Witch herself," he explains. "You know I have a solution to all of our problems."

"You do?" Jennifer asks surprised. "What is the solution, darling? You're going to buy Vogue and kick the rug out from under Madame Carbonneau's feet?" she asks with a slight laugh.

"That wouldn't be such a bad solution though Hart Industries isn't really in the market to buy a fashion magazine at the moment," Jonathan says, smiling as he finishes up his shaving. "No, what I was thinking more of was buying Freeway a female French poodle at home and naming her Adele. Maybe we'll get lucky. He won't know the difference."

"Jonathan, I hope Freeway didn't hear what you said last," Jennifer says as she turns off the water.

"Not a chance, darling. Max took him out for a walk. Or rather out for a date with Adele," Jonathan says splashing water onto his face, washing the shaving cream off. "I called Madame Carbonneau's apartment last night after dinner. I managed to talk her into letting her see Freeway for a while this morning."

"Jonathan, is this a joke? It is not very convincing," she says seriously as she partly opens the door, sticking her head out of the shower.

"It is not a joke at all. I couldn't take anymore of what Freeway got you into so I decided to give her a call and see what happened."

"How did you manage to do that? That woman won't talk to anyone who she isn't acquainted with."

"I just put on the good ole Jonathan Hart charm," he says as he winks at her. He goes over to take the towel off of the rack and hands it to his wife. Jennifer comes out of the shower, half naked, with the towel wrapped around her as Jonathan picks up her robe which he helps her into. She takes the towel off, throwing it onto the floor before tying the robe up. 

"And just how did my handsome husband put on the ole Jonathan Hart charm to Madame Carbonneau out of all the women in Paris?" she asks as she turns around to face him.

"Why, Madame, how can you ask your own husband such a question?" he asks, disguising his voice in a French accent.

"Well, we are talking about Madame Carbonneau, one of the snobbiest and most egoistical women on the planet, darling husband," Jennifer replies in a French accent, giving him a wink.

"Even cold hearted women have their weaknesses when it comes to men," Jonathan says in his disguised voice still, grinning ear to ear.

"Darling, that is it!" Jennifer says with a smile as  she embraces her husband, cheerfully.

"What is it?" Jonathan asks now in his normal voice. "What is going on in that woman's intuition of yours?" 

"Using the ole Jonathan Hart charm," Jennifer replies with a sly grin. "In a couple of days, there is a fashion show coming up. I was just thinking you could use more of that Jonathan Hart charm of yours to talk her into allowing Hart Industries to do a live on the air presentation of the fashion show. You could say you're doing it for a good cause like charity. Hopefully that will get her off my back a little long enough for Freeway to get over Adele so we can head back to Los Angeles. What do you say, darling?"

"I say bring me my clothes, and let's get this show on the road," Jonathan says, smiling as he gives her a passionate kiss while they embrace in each other's arms.

Vogue Few Hours Later

Jonathan is standing in front of Madame Carbonneau's senior assistant's desk. 

"Jonathan Hart. I have an appointment with Madame Carbonneau," he says in his distinguished and charming voice.

"She's in a meeting right now. I'll let her know soon as she is free. Why don't you just go over there and make yourself comfortable, Monsieur Hart?" she asks, flashing him a smile as she points over to the chairs near the entryway. 

"Thank you, darling. I appreciate the thoughtful gesture. Madame Carbonneau certainly is lucky to have such an attractive and charming assistant," Jonathan says, flashing her a smile.

"Thank you very much. I appreciate the compliment," she says smiling as she gives him a wink. "I wish all of Madame Carbonneau's visitors were just as complimentary and pleasant as you."

"Just being honest and friendly. I bet your boyfriend appreciates you as much."

"I don't have a boyfriend," she replies, embarrassed.

"You don't say!" Jonathan exclaims. "Well, I must say there certainly must be something wrong with those men. I don't understand young men these days. They just don't know a good woman when they see one."

"Monsieur Hart, I have to go get Madame Carbonneau's dry cleaning for her so you'll have to excuse me. Can I get you anything while I am out?"

"No, darling. I'm fine. Thank you for being so generous! You be careful now. A woman can never be too careful these days," Jonathan says as she picks up her purse, heading towards the entryway.

"Yes, I will be careful. Madame Carbonneau shouldn't be too much longer now," she tells him as Jonathan holds the door open for her.

"You don't need to worry. I got all the time in the world. You just run your errand. Don't give me another thought." She smiles at him as he gives her a smile back.  She walks out just as Jennifer walks in.

"If I'm not careful some French woman is going to steal you away from me," Jennifer says, teasing. 

"Oh, darling, I didn't see you," Jonathan replies as he shuts the door.

"I could tell. What were you doing flirting with her?"

"In order for my charm towards Cruella to work, I've got to look like I'm some kind of ladies' man. Women like Madame Carbonneau just go for that kind."

"I'm all for that as long as you don't get too carried away with your Casanova act, that you forget that I'm the only lady in your life," Jennifer says smiling, walking over to him.

"I can promise you that will never happen," he says, smiling. "How is it going with Miss De Vil herself?"

"I rather not say at the moment. I just came out to tell you Madame Carbonneau will see you shortly."

"JENNY!!!" comes Madame Carbonneau's voice. "GET BACK IN HERE! WE HAVE WORK TO DO!"

Jennifer rolls her eyes. "I'll see you soon, darling," Jennifer says as she rushes out of the room.

Boardroom Minute Later

Madame Carbonneau is sitting at the head of the table surrounded by male and female employees when the door opens. Jennifer walks back in.

"Finally you came back here. You took so long to tell your husband one thing, that sending a telegram instead may have been quicker," she says, annoyed without looking up at her. Jennifer rolls her eyes and stands next to Madame Carbonneau with pad and pencil ready to take notes. "Now where were we?"

"We were about to discuss next month's magazine release," one man says to Madame Carbonneau sitting next to her.

"Pardon me for interrupting, Madame Carbonneau," a lady says sitting to him on his left. "But I have a question," she begins. "Why did you fire Avellino Aubuchon? He was one of the best art directors Vogue ever had."

"Yes, I've been longing to hear your explanation as well," the man says, turning to Madame Carbonneau.

"The reason I gave Avellino a pink slip is none of anybody's business, but my own."

"We don't mean to interfere with the way you run Vogue, Madame Carbonneau, but finding another art director with Avellino's talent is going to be very difficult. I don't need to remind you that September is coming up soon. This company can't afford to lose someone like him at this time."

"I am very much aware that next month's edition is coming up soon so we need to find someone to replace that man's position. Now I did not call a meeting to discuss Avellino or his replacement. If you have a problem with Avellino being fired, then let me give you fair warning. Anyone else around here who questions my judgment or any decisions I  make will soon be getting their own pink slips. Does everyone understand?" she asks, coldly as she looks around the table giving everyone a stare. Everyone around the table look at each other with an uncomfortable silence and sigh. "Good. Then maybe we can get something accomplished today. Now what we were talking about?"

Outer Office Few Minutes Later 

The door to the boardroom opens. All the employees gathered around the table earlier, storm out with an outraged look on their faces. They chatter among themselves as they head on to the entryway. 

"I can't believe that witch hasn't been killed by now or at least got her comeuppance in some other way," the man says to the woman. "She treats everyone who works for her like they're a slave."

"You know what they say. Only the good die young," she replies with anger in her voice. "Can you believe how she dismissed Avellino Aubuchon as if he was just an errand boy?!!!"

"The way Madame Carbonneau treats all of us including Avellino doesn't really surprise me anymore. I've worked at Vogue for a long time, and I have seen her dismiss employees for ridiculous or even insignificant reasons. It's always been either her way or the highway. The fashion world has always been filled with arrogant people, but I don't think any of them can top Madame Carbonneau. If they ever gave an award for the most arrogant woman in the fashion world, Madame Carbonneau would win."

"What really gets me is that she wasn't at all satisfied with what we had planned for September's edition. Now we all have to spend the rest of August thinking of new ways to satisfy her highness before next month's magazine can be released. We even have to stay after hours. We'll be here till after midnight. Oh, believe me, it is a good thing I don't have a knife in my hand!"

Jennifer has left the meeting. She is passing by minding her own business while the heated conversations among the employees is still going on.

"I'd take that knife and stab her in the throat if I could!!!" 

Jennifer stops dead in her tracks upon overhearing what the woman has just blurted out. The words sends chills down her spine, and she eyes the woman with a look of shock and fear.  Speechless she brushes past them on her way to the desk.

Jonathan has overheard and witnessed the private conversations going on when he noticed his wife's reaction to what the female employee just blurted out. Concerned he walks over to Jennifer's desk. Jennifer is glancing over the notes she has taken during the meeting as she stands against the desk.

"Are you all right, darling?" he asks.

Taken off guard and not aware of his presence, Jennifer drops the papers which falls to the floor.

"Oh, Jonathan!" she exclaims sighing in relief.  "You startled me."

"I can tell, and I can also tell you're a nervous wreck. What happened in that meeting that makes everyone out here look like they just were given a pink slip?"

"Madame Carbonneau wasn't satisfied with what have been planned for September's release. Now all of her staff is going to have to come up with a new layout. That includes working extra hours. Do you remember that man I told you about that she fired?"

 "Yes, Avellino Aubuchon. What about him, darling?" 

"He was the art director for Vogue for twenty years. All of her staff are upset for a better word about her firing him. They are all anxious and worried that an art director with his talent can't be found in time for the new edition. Oh, by the way, Cruella told me to tell you you'll have to wait before she can see you. They're having a fundraiser tonight at 7:00. You can see her there."

"Does that mean I get to escort my beautiful wife to the event tonight?" Jonathan asks, coyly.

"Of course. Why? Did you have someone else in mind?" Jennifer asks, smiling.

"Hmm, give me a minute. I'll think," Jonathan says, smiling back at her.

"You might as well go back to our hotel. I'll be busy here the rest of the day. I have to escort Madame Carbonneau to a showing."

"I'll wait until you have to leave to see you and Cruella out. You need a strong and fearless gentleman to watch over you after all that has happened."

Just then Madame Carbonneau walks in. By now all of her staff and employees have left and gone about their daily tasks. 

"Jenny, my chauffeur is here. Come along!" she orders without acknowledging Jonathan.

"Yes, Madame Carbonneau. I'm ready," Jennifer says as she picks up her purse. Jonathan picks up the papers she had dropped and places them neatly on the desk for his wife. He follows Jennifer and Madame Carbonneau as they head out of the reception area. Jennifer holds the door open for Madame Carbonneau as she walk out of the entryway. After Madame Carbonneau walks out,Jonathan takes over, holding the door as his wife walks out, hurrying after Madame Carbonneau who is walking quickly. 

Front Entrance Of Les Publications Condé Nast Few Minutes Later

Jonathan and Jennifer walk out of Les Publications Conde Nast, that is the headquarters for Vogue. Jennifer heads over to Madame Carbonneau's parked limousine while Jonathan walks over to their rented Mercedes Benz. Max is sitting in the driver's seat reading the sports section of an American newspaper. The chauffeur is holding the door open for Madame Carbonneau and Jennifer. Just as Jonathan makes his way to the passenger's side of the car and is about to open the door, he just happens to glance across the street. He notices that someone's window on their driver's side of their car is rolled down halfway, and an unseen person is holding a gun in their hand which appears to be aimed at Madame Carbonneau's head. Instantly Jonathan realizes what is going on as he sees the person prepare to shoot the weapon. 

"MADAME CARBONNEAU, JENNIFER, LOOK OUT!!!" Jonathan yells. Madame Carbonneau and Jennifer look around, stunned and confused at what is going on. Knowing he has no time to waste, Jonathan runs over towards the women just as a shot is fired at Madame Carbonneau's head. Jennifer has noticed the attacker in time to prevent Madame Carbonneau from being harmed. She grabs her by the shoulder pulling her to the ground. They take cover by the side of the car. The chauffeur managed to avoid being caught in the crossfire himself. He has taken cover near Madame Carbonneau and Jennifer who are in shock, recovering from the sudden attempt on their lives!

Palace Of Versailles That Night

Jonathan and Jennifer attended the fundraiser that night at Palace Of Versailles. Everyone in attendance is enjoying mingling with each other. The Harts are standing near Madame Carbonneau and her staff as they greet the famous celebrities from the fashion world that had come from different parts of the world to donate for the fundraiser. Jonathan and Jennifer recognize many familiar faces.  Max is standing near the bar enjoying a beer and talking to the bartender. He is also dressed up in a tuxedo.  Max occasionally eyes the models and all of the beautiful female guests only half listening to what the bartender is telling him.

"Thank you for coming," Madame Carbonneau just finishes telling a famous male fashion designer from New York.  

"I was honored to be here, Madame Carbonneau," he says with a smile as he shakes her hand. 

"May I present my personal assistant, Jenny Hart, and her husband, Jonathan?" Madame Carbonneau asks as she introduces Jennifer and Jonathan.

"I am pleased to meet you, Jenny," the man says, shaking Jennifer's hand. "How do you enjoy working for Vogue?"

"Well, it is interesting to say the least," Jennifer replies with a smile trying to find something positive to say about her experience at Vogue.

"Wait a minute," the fashion designer says as he stares at Jennifer and Jonathan, appearing to recognize their last name and faces. "Did Madame Carbonneau just say your last name is Hart?"

"She did," Jonathan replies. 

"You aren't by any chance Jonathan Hart, the famous millionaire who runs Hart Industries by any chance?"

"Guilty as charged,"Jonathan says with a smile. 

"I'm a bit confused. If you're Jonathan Hart, then your wife must be Jennifer Hart. Am I right?"

"Yes, you are. It is just an inside joke at Vogue calling me Jenny instead of Jennifer," Jennifer tells him with a smile. Her comment causes Madame Carbonneau to roll her eyes and shoot her a look of disgust which she ignores.

"Oh, I see now, Mrs. Hart," the man says with a chuckle. "I'm glad to see that Madame Carbonneau has some sense of humor."

"It's one of Madame Carbonneau's more modest traits," Jonathan tells him with a wink.

"Excuse me. Mind if I have a word with you outside?" Madame Carbonneau asks as she grabs the fashion designer's arm, leading him outside as she shoots Jonathan and Jennifer a look of annoyance.

"That certainly went well and made quite an impression on Cruella, darling," Jonathan says sarcastically as they watch them walk outdoors. 

"I'm just glad he didn't bother to ask me why I was working as her assistant. That would have made things even more pleasant. Speaking of pleasant, I still can't grasp what happened this afternoon."

"As for me I'm glad that Madame Carbonneau is finally taking the threats and telephone calls seriously after the attempt on her life. She can't very well believe now after what happened was a practical joke any longer."

"I wish for her sake and for mine that she would be just as concerned for her life as we are. I was shocked she wouldn't allow Inspector Michelot to give her twenty four hour police protection until the attacker is caught."

"She may not have twenty four hour police protection, darling, but she does have some sort of protection."

"What do you mean, darling?" Jennifer asks turning to him, curiously.

"After I returned to our hotel, I called the inspector myself and asked if he could find her a bodyguard to keep a close watch on her."

"You certainly are on top of things. Why didn't you tell me when I got back to the Ritz?"

"You did have a very hectic day, darling, so it just slipped my mind."

"Where is this bodyguard, Jonathan?" 

"I don't see him anywhere in here now," Jonathan replies, looking around them. "He must be outside with Madame Carbonneau and our fashion designer friend. The inspector told me the bodyguard was going to follow her everywhere she went."

"Champagne, Madame et Monsieur?" a French waiter asks, coming up to them with glasses of champagne on a tray he is carrying in one hand.

"Oui, merci," Jonathan replies as he and Jennifer each take a glass of champagne.  The waiter continues walking around, offering glasses of champagne to everyone standing around the room. Just then Madame Carbonneau walks back in and rejoins Jonathan and Jennifer. As Jennifer is about to take a sip of her Champagne, Madame Carbonneau takes the glass from her and begins sipping the Champagne herself. The Harts stare at each other, taken by surprise by what Madame Carbonnneau just did.

"Now Jonathan, I believe you wanted to talk to me about something," she says suddenly turning on the charm in a blink of an eye. "Come with me, and we'll talk all about it," she says as she takes him by the hand, handing his glass to Jennifer. Madame Carbonneau leads him away to the back of the room without giving him a chance to react. Jonathan turns around. He gives Jennifer a wink of the eye, which in returns, Jennifer gives him a wink of the eye. They're both glad now that Jonathan has a chance to charm Madame Carbonneau just as they had planned hours earlier. Max comes over to Jennifer.

"Hi, Max. Are you enjoying yourself?"

"In a matter of speakin', Mrs. H, yes. Say where is Mr. H goin' with that dame?"

"He's going to turn on the ole Jonathan Hart charm for her," Jennifer replies as a waiter comes by. Jennifer stops him and takes a glass of Champagne off of his tray to replace the one Madame Carbonneau took from her a few minutes ago. She hands him Jonathan’s glass. 

"Huh?" Max asks confused.

"I'll explain later. Let's just say it is part of the plan to reunite Freeway and Adele."

"I don't know what on earth you and Mr. H are up to now, but I hope whatever your scheme is  goes as planned." A beautiful and attractive French model comes by which attracts Max's attention. He goes off, leaving Jennifer by herself as he follows the model.

"Thank you for keeping me company me, Max," Jennifer says to herself with a chuckle as she shakes her head in disbelief. 

Meanwhile on the other side of the room, Jonathan and Madame Carbonneau are sitting down next to each other while Jonathan wraps his arms around Madame Carbonneau's shoulders acting as if he is infatuated with her.  

"Did anyone ever tell you you are one of the most charming women in all of Paris?" Jonathan asks in his distinguished and charming voice.

"No, not since I married my ex- husband, Jonathan. Now let's get back on subject, shall we? As I understand it what you wanted to talk to me about concerns Hart Industries?"

"In a matter of speaking, my dear lady, yes. You see it has to do with the fashion show coming up in a few days. Hart Industries would love to do a live airing of the show covering all of Vogue's involvement with the magnificent and breathtaking fashions that will be shown. It could make Vogue and your name yourself, Madame Carbonneau, even more famous."

"That is is a very intriguing idea, dear Jonathan. But what do you and your company get out of all of this?"

"Pleasure dear, Madame Carbonneau. Pleasure of knowing deep in our hearts that the live airing will be done simply for charity alone. Do you know how much more attention Vogue would get out of participating for charity? I can see it now. Your photograph on national television. Millions of viewers or more all over the world wanting to be you, subscribing to Vogue so they can see what it is like to be glamorous and beautiful just as you are. The viewers sending you piles of letters! Piles of letters from your endearing public and admirers! How does that sound?" Jonathan asks with a smile on his face. 

"I'm sold on the idea, Jonathan. Just shut up and kiss me," she says as she gives him a wink, putting her Champagne glass down on the floor. Before Jonathan can react, she embraces him, pulling him into a kiss.

Jennifer just happens to look in their direction. Shocked and angry at what Madame Carbonneau had just done to her husband, Jennifer spills half of the Champagne from her glass on a female model's dress. She is standing beside Jennifer on the left talking to another model.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" Jennifer replies, embarrassed. "I can be such a klutz at times I'm afraid," she says apologetically as she continues watching what is going on between her husband and Madame Carbonneau with concern and a bit of jealousy.

Jonathan has managed to pull himself out of the kiss finally. He is trying to keep Madame Carbonneau from kissing him again.

"Not here, darling," Jonathan says, taking her hands off of his neck. "Jennifer is easily jealous." Jonathan quickly turns to Jennifer and nods his head as a signal to her. Jennifer nods her head as well. "Well, now what do you have in mind for-" he begins asking Madame Carbonneau.

Suddenly they hear glass shatter. Jonathan and Madame Carbonneau turn to see Jennifer steaming with anger and glass of champagne on the floor, broken. She storms over to Jonathan and slaps him across the face. 

"Once a philanderer always a philanderer, huh?" she asks with fury in her voice. 

"Oh,you're overreacting!" Jonathan replies as he rises from his seat. "That kiss was nothing!"

"Oh, really? What were you two doing then? Reenacting a scene from An Affair To Remember?" she asks with hands on both of her hips.

"Why don't you just shut up before everyone notices? You'll embarrass us!" Jonathan says, raising his voice.

"Oh, you want to talk about embarrassment? It seems like you have already done that for the both of us, Jonathan Hart!" Jennifer says, raising her voice as well.

By now the entire room full of people has their eyes on the Harts and watching the quarrel going on. 

"Darling, why don't you go home and sleep it off? I think you've had one too many tonight!"

"Well, you haven't exactly been drinking soda yourself, darling, so why don't you come along with me and sleep it off as well?" she asks.

"With the way you're acting right now, I'd rather sleep with a rattlesnake!"

"If that is the way you feel then you can sleep on the couch tonight or sleep in another room!"

"Don't worry about that! You can have the bedroom all to yourself and Freeway! I'm sick of your jealous behavior!"

"You're sick of my jealous behavior?! What about your womanizing?!! Do you think any wife would want to put up with a man who flirts with any woman who gives him a first glance or a wink?!! I'm going home to mother just as soon as we arrive back in the states!"

"Your mother is dead!"

"Well, then I'm going home to father! I'm leaving! I'm walking back to Hotel Ritz!!!" Jennifer yells as she storms out.

"Fine by me!" Jonathan yells back. "Walking back to Hotel Ritz?" Jonathan whispers, quietly to himself. "Walking eleven miles?" he asks with confusion.

The entire crowd is speechless at what had just occurred. They stare at each other in disbelief and shock. Max stands by the bar, trying to figure out what lead to Jonathan and Jennifer arguing. "Did I miss somethin'?" he wonders to himself. "Hey, mac," he says, turning to the bartender. "What did you put in this drink?"

Front Entrance of Palace Of Versailles

Jennifer is standing outside the palace by one of the columns. She is trying not to laugh at the staged fight she and Jonathan had just pulled in front of everyone. She glances in the window of the last door on the left to see if she can see what is going on. All of a sudden Jennifer hears footsteps. Scared and taken off guard, she looks around to see if she can find out where the footsteps are coming from. They appear to have stopped. Jennifer shrugs, thinking she may have just imagined the footsteps. All of a sudden she hears the footsteps again. Only slowly this time. She backs away from the palace, slowly and cautiously to see if she can find the person making the noise. She walks out into the gardens in front to see if she spots the stranger. She doesn't see anyone. When she turns around to face the palace again, she sees someone, but she can't see that person clearly. It is too dark. She is about to scream, but before she can react, the stranger knocks her out with their arm, causing Jennifer to fall to the ground, unconscious. The stranger then quietly makes their way into the back of the palace.  Just then one of the doors open, and Jonathan comes out. He shuts the door on his way out.

"Darling, where are you? Everything went as planned. Everyone really thought we were fighting even Max. Jennifer?" he asks, looking around puzzled and concerned. He walks away from the palace. He suddenly sees Jennifer lying unconscious in the garden. "Jennifer!" he exclaims with alarm as he rushes toward her. Just as he runs toward his wife, all of the lights in the part of the palace they were just in go out. Screams can be heard from inside. Jonathan turns around and sees what happened. A look of worry and fear comes over his face as he senses something is not right with Jennifer knocked unconscious and now the lights out along with screams that he just heard. He turns his attention back to his wife. He bends down to see if she is seriously injured. As he is about look her over, her eyelids slowly open, and she regains consciousness. 

"What happened?" Jennifer asks as the lights inside the palace come back on.

"You were knocked out, darling. Are you all right?" Jonathan asks as he helps her to her feet. Just as Jennifer is about to answer Jonathan's question, screams can be heard from inside the palace once again. Only this time they are screams of horror and fright. Jonathan and Jennifer take off, rushing back to the palace to see what occurred during their absence. They bursts their way in, seeing everyone standing frozen and in shock. The Harts come closer to see what has everyone upset and distraught. They reach the terrace and glance down to see Madame Carbonneau lying facedown, motionless. Everyone with the exception of Jonathan and Jennifer are too scared to react. Jonathan and Jennifer walk over to Madame Carbonneau's body. Jonathan leans down to feel for a pulse and sees a knife sticking out of her back. He sighs before turning to his wife.

"She's dead," he says.

Palace Of Versailles Short Time Later

Soon after the murder of Madame Carbonneau, the palace is swamped with the police along with the crime scene investigators and photographer. Two male ambulance attendants  are taking Madame Carbonneau's covered body on a stretcher into a waiting ambulance as they come out of a door. Everyone is being questioned by the police concerning their whereabouts during the time of the murder and if they witnessed anything that can be of any help in the investigation. By now is is almost ten thirty, and everyone is exhausted. All of the statements are being taken outside the palace on the grounds so as not to disturb the crime scene where important evidence could be found. Jonathan, Jennifer, and Max are being questioned by Inspector Michelot in the garden facing the palace. 

"Now Madame Hart, how long would you say you were outside the palace before you were knocked unconscious?" Inspector Michelot asks Jennifer who is resting her head on Jonathan's left shoulder.

"I would say no more than five minutes or less," she replies.

"What about you, Monsieur Hart? How long were you with the victim before you came outside and found your wife unconscious?"

"Let's see," Jonathan says as he thinks before answering. "Since Jennifer was outside five minutes before she was attacked, it must have been six or seven minutes at the most, inspector."

"Six or seven minutes? You're not sure?" Inspector Michelot asks a bit annoyed.

"Inspector Michelot, my husband had no way to know how long he was with Madame Carbonneau unless he timed it. Jonathan didn't know the night would end in murder."

"Not unless he had a crystal ball," Max remarks. 

"Thank you, Max," Jonathan says as he and Jennifer look at him in disbelief at his response to what Jennifer just told the inspector.

"Anytime, Mr. H. Inspector, I can personally vouch for Mr. H's whereabouts during his time with that dame. I just happened to glance at my wristwatch when he went outside. Do you want to know what time it was?"

"Non, Monsieur," Inspector Michelot tells Max, losing his patience. "Your point is well taken, Madame Hart," he tells Jennifer, shooting her a slight smile. "I may be sorry I asked this, but what were you doing waiting for your husband, Madame, after you just told him you were leaving for Hotel Ritz?"

"I was waiting to hear how our plan to charm Madame Carbonneau went. You see our argument was staged."

"I am sorry I asked."

"You staged an argument just so Madame Carbonneau would allow Freeway to see Adele again?!" Max asks in shock. 

"Wait a minute. Who is Freeway and Adele? I'll need their statements if they're here."

"You would have a difficult time getting statements from them even if they were here," Jonathan says. "Freeway and Adele are dogs."

"I knew as soon as I was alerted of Madame Carbonneau's murder, I would regret questioning you Madame et Monsieur Hart."

"Yes, it must be very frustrating questioning a couple who helped wrap up a case for you over two weeks ago," Jennifer says.

"If you two had planned to stage an argument tonight in front of 'em folks at this place, why didn't you tell me beforehand, Mr. and Mrs H? I thought I missed somethin', or the bartender accidentally put somethin' in my drink."

"We're sorry, Max, but we had hoped to avoid making a scene in public. We only planned to stage a quarrel if things got out of hand with Madame Carbonneau. When Jennifer saw her kiss me, we then signaled to each other to fake an argument," Jonathan explains.

"Wait, wait," Inspector Michelot tells them as he waves his hand, trying to get them back on track. "Who is doing the interrogating here?" he asks, trying to calm himself down.

Jonathan, Jennifer, and Max turn their attention to him. "Thank you! I appreciate you taking time out of your conversation to answer my questions now. Monsieur, did you notice anything out of the ordinary before the lights went out?" he asks, turning to Max.

"Nope. I was too busy watchin' 'em fashion dames."

"Naturally. Where were you when the murder took place?"

"I was standin' at the bar."

Inspector Michelot heaves a sigh of annoyance and jot down what Max and the Harts told him in a notebook.

"I just have one more question, Madame et Monsieur Hart. What were you doing working as a personal assistant for Madame Carbonneau, Madame? Were you tired of being a journalist and thought you'd get a taste of the fashion world? I don't even want to know why you et Monsieur Hart didn't go back home to California after extending your anniversary to two weeks."

"You're out of luck on that wish unfortunately, inspector. As we were getting ready to drive to the airport, our dog, Freeway, spotted Madame Carbonneau's French poodle, Adele. He took off after her. Jonathan and I had to chase after him-"

"Never mind. I think I can guess the rest. I never thought I would ask a favor of you et Monsieur Hart, but I am going to ask one now. As you know Madame Carbonneau wasn't on good terms with her employees at Vogue or anyone else who knew her. I was wondering if you Monsieur Hart et Madame Hart would assist me and our force in solving Madame Carbonneau's murder."

Jonathan and Jennifer look at each other in surprise. "Absolutely not, Inspector Michelot. My wife has been in danger two times in the past thanks to the fashion industry, and I am not going to expose her to anymore danger especially after what happened tonight."

"Jonathan, that doesn't sound like you," Jennifer says, surprised and disappointed at her husband's reaction. "Remember we have a sweet little dog that is in love with Madame Carbonneau's dog. Now that she is dead, Freeway could see Adele as much as he likes before we head back home."

"You're not going to talk me into it this time, darling," Jonathan says, firmly. "We're going home to California tomorrow that is if Inspector Michelot doesn't have any objections. Freeway will just have to settle for a French poodle from a pet shop."

"Darling, darling," Jennifer says, coyly and seductively. "If you don't agree to allow us to investigate Madame Carbonneau's murder, then Freeway will be told his daddy didn't think he would know the difference between Adele and another French poodle."

"She's got you there, Mr. H," Max says. 

"I don't care if Freeway doesn't pay any attention to me for a month. Jennifer and I will not investigate Madame Carbonneau's murder or stay in Paris another day."

Jennifer embraces Jonathan and gives him a kiss which they are locked into for a minute as Jonathan closes his eyes. Inspector Michelot watches, uncomfortable at the couple's sudden kiss in front of them.

Jonathan pulls out of the kiss and the embrace before turning to Inspector Michelot. "Well, this is against my better judgment, but I guess we'll make this the third time around. Jennifer does have a point. Freeway is in love with Adele. It would not be right if his daddy and mommy didn't allow him to see his girlfriend much as possible. And helping the police is our civic duty."

"Don't forget that solvin’ murders are also you and Mrs. H's hobby," Max tells him.

"You're right, Max. I guess you could say they're playing our song. All right, Inspector Michelot. You've got a couple of sleuths to help you investigate. Just one thing then. What made you ask us to help with the investigation?"

"I've been wondering the same thing, darling," Jennifer says. "The last time we were involved in your investigation, you didn't welcome us with open arms."

"That is true, Madame Hart, but this time is different. Madame Carbonneau has a list of  enemies so long that a telephone directory would seem short. We're investigating not only a homicide. We're investigating a homicide of a popular and well- known fashion magazine Editor- In- chief. The press will have a field day with this murder. Until the murderer is caught, we can't possibly get them off our backs. You et Monsieur Hart have a way of solving murders faster than any police force or detective agency that I can think of. Madame also was a personal assistant so you can be a very valuable use for us in our investigation."

"I guess we should take that as a compliment," Jennifer says. "Do you need anything else from us, inspector?"

"No, not tonight, Madame Hart. You et Monsieur go back to your hotel. I'll call you in the morning."

L'Espadon Restaurant At Hotel Ritz The Next Morning

Jonathan and Jennifer are enjoying finishing up their breakfast at one of the restaurants in Hotel Ritz Paris. They are seated at a table near the back with a view over the garden where lunch and dinner is served. The Harts are enjoying coffee and orange juice. They are eating the same meal they ordered for each other separately: an omelet, Benedict eggs, and sliced fresh fruit. Jonathan is reading the morning newspaper and finishing his eggs while Jennifer is finishing up her fruit. 

"Is your fruit going to be your morning dessert?" Jennifer asks teasing since he hasn't touched his fruit at all.

"No, thank you, darling. I'm fine on coffee," Jonathan replies, too preoccupied with what he is reading to hear what Jennifer had just asked him.

"Jonathan, you aren't listening to me. I didn't ask if you wanted more coffee. I was teasing you about your fruit being your morning dessert since you haven't eaten any of it yet."

"You can have some of my fruit. I don't mind."

"If this is some kind of gag to get back at me for talking you into letting us help Inspector Michelot's investigation, I'm not at all amused," Jennifer says, slightly annoyed and frustrated.

"What did you say?" Jonathan says as he stops reading the paper and turning to his wife. 

"Jonathan, I've been talking to you. You haven't heard one word I said."

"Oh, I'm sorry, darling. I was preoccupied with the morning paper. I was wondering if the press released any news about Madame Carbonneau's murder."

"I should have known that was why you were tuning me out. Speaking of Madame Carbonneau's murder, I wonder why Inspector Michelot hasn't called us yet. It is almost ten o' clock."

Just then a waiter comes over to her with a telephone. "Excuse me. Are you Monsieur et Madame Hart?" he asks.

"Yes, we are," Jennifer replies, turning to him. "Is there a call for us from Inspector Michelot?"

"Oui, Madame Hart. Here's the telephone," he says, handing Jennifer the handheld mobile phone.

"Merci," Jennifer replies, taking the phone. "Bonjour, Inspector Michelot. What do you have for us this morning?"

"Bonjour, Madame Hart. First I just wanted to let Monsieur Hart know the press have been hounding me since I came in this morning about the murder. I'm afraid I couldn't keep you et Monsieur Hart's name out of the papers. There was a leak in the department. I apologize for that, Madame."

"There is no need to apologize for that. I'm sure you did everything you could to keep our names out of the papers. Jonathan has been reading  to see if the press printed any news about the murder. What else do you have for us?"

"For one thing I finally got around to having that last threatening message that was mailed to Madame Carbonneau, which you yourself opened, tested for fingerprints. Just as the previous contents were in the first envelope mailed to the victim, there were not any unfortunately. Why didn't you give me that last envelope the day you received it, Madame Hart? Why did you wait until yesterday afternoon?"

"It is now my time to apologize, Inspector Michelot. Madame Carbonneau was pushing me so hard and keeping me so busy that I forgot. I even fell asleep when I arrived back in our suite that night. Jonathan and I had plans for the evening."

"You do not need to apologize. Considering that no fingerprints were found either on the threatening message or photographs nothing could have been done to help us prevent Madame Carbonneau's demise unless her bodyguard had not been knocked out cold himself after the lights went out. I ran a background check on all of Madame Carbonneau's employees at Vogue even Avellino Aubuchon. All of them have no criminal record, and all of their alibis appear to check out. One of my men is questioning Avellino Aubuchon right now and Clara Dansereau who you heard said, "If she had a knife in her hand, she would stab Madame Carbonneau in the throat." Right now Avellino and Clara are our only suspects. You et Monsieur Hart have the entire department at your disposal. If there is anything, you et Monsieur wish to look over, feel free to come down. Oh, by the way the coroner listed Madame Carbonneau's death somewhere around 9:50 and 9:55 PM. You et Monsieur were correct in assuming the time you both were at the time of the murder."

 An Apartment In Paris

Meanwhile someone with great interest in Madame Carbonneau's murder last night is also reading the morning newspaper and notices the headline which immediately captures their interest. 

"Wealthy Couple To Investigate Carbonneau's Murder," a woman reads out loud to herself. "Jonathan Hart and Jennifer Hart, a wealthy couple from Los Angeles, California, were attending the fundraiser that Vogue was holding at Palace Of Versailles last night. Jonathan Hart was the one who discovered the well- known and popular Editor- In- chief, Madame Vedette Carbonneau of Vogue for more than twenty years, murdered last night. The murder weapon was a knife that was still in Carbonneau's back when Monsieur Hart examined the body before notifying the police. More than over three hundred people from the fashion world were in attendance for the fundraiser when the murder took place between 9:50 and 9:55 PM.  Police report that this was not the first attempt on Carbonneau's life. Earlier that afternoon as she was getting ready to leave Vogue for a showing, a gun shot was fired, but she managed to avoid being struck with the bullet. Madame and Monsieur Hart were present when the attempt took place. For reasons the police refuse to reveal, Madame Hart was working as a personal assistant for Madame Carbonneau. However, we do know that Jennifer Hart is a freelance journalist, and her husband, Jonathan, is CEO of Hart Industries, a global conglomerate. Inspector Michelot of the French police have requested that the Harts offer their assistance in the investigation for reasons he does not wish to reveal. Rumor has it that Jonathan and Jennifer Hart are amateur sleuths. Almost three weeks ago the Harts helped Michelot solve the death of Peter Lampert. Lampert was the husband of Eva Lampert, who was once a girlfriend of Monsieur Hart."

L'Espadon Restaurant Few Minutes Later

A waiter comes over to Jonathan and Jennifer's table to take the mobile phone from Jennifer who has just finished talking to Inspector Michelot. 

"Merci," Jennifer says, smiling at him as he takes the phone. He smiles back at Jennifer and walks away.

"Oh, no!" Jonathan says as he glances at the newspaper once more coming across a headline in the paper he missed earlier when reading the newspaper.

"What is the matter, darling? Does it have anything to do with Madame Carbonneau's murder? Inspector Michelot said the press wouldn't release any news about our involvement until tonight."

"Well, the press lied. Take a look at this," Jonathan says as he hands Jennifer the newspaper article he had just finished reading. Jennifer looks at her husband with concern and curiosity as she takes the newspaper from him. She glances at the headline which is the exact same one the woman in the apartment was reading a few minutes earlier.

"Oh dear!!!" Jennifer exclaims. "This news article is going to make our investigation hard now that our picture is all over the newspaper and most likely the news channel on television by now. Everywhere we go we will be recognized. And how dare they?!" she exclaims, annoyed.

"How dare they what, darling?" Jonathan asks. "Did they print something embarrassing about us that I missed?"

"You mean you didn't notice the picture they printed was one of me with the hairstyle I didn't like?" 

"Your hairstyle is the least of our worries, darling," Jonathan tells her as he takes the paper from her.

"I know, but of all the pictures taken of us in public this year they could have at least used one where I had a better hairdo."

"Now that our face is all over Paris by now, we need to start our investigation immediately. No telling how many people have already seen that headline and our picture by now including the people who worked for Madame Carbonneau. We need two people to go undercover at Vogue. Max and one of us. The other will have to keep a low profile while following the suspects."

"How is one of us going to tail all the suspects? You heard what Inspector Michelot said last night. Madame Carbonneau has more enemies than anyone in Paris or the fashion world alone. We'd need Steve McGarret and his team in order to spy all on those who have a motive for wanting Madame Carbonneau dead."

"No, we wouldn't need McGarret or his team. I just have several suspects in mind, but I'll need your help.  Darling, how do you feel about going undercover at Vogue?"

"What do you have in mind, darling?" Jennifer replies, smiling.

Jonathan flashes her a smile.

An Apartment Few Minutes Later

The woman in the apartment puts down the newspaper article on her table in the kitchen where she just finished eating breakfast. She makes her way over to a telephone in the living room on the coffee table and dials a number. The woman is none other than Madame Carbonneau's senior assistant! 

An Office At Vogue

A man with his back to the desk is also reading the same newspaper article. He has a mug of coffee he is drinking in his hand as he reads the morning newspaper by International Herald Tribune. The phone rings. He picks up the receiver. 

"Bonjour. This is Leonard Clement. How can I help you?" he asks as he answers the call. 

"Leonard, this is Sophie. Have you seen the morning paper yet?" she asks, frantically. 

"Yes, I am reading it now as we speak. How about that? We had an amateur sleuth right here at Vogue right under our noses, and we didn't know it."

"Leonard, this is serious!" Sophie says, sternly on the other end of the line. "If the Harts find out you and I were in a plot to kill Madame Carbonneau, then jail is not too far behind."

"Calm down, Sophie. We have nothing to worry about. The police were satisfied with our alibis. Like the paper says there were over three hundred people at Palace of Versailles last night. No one noticed when I slipped away to carry out our plot. No one will know that I slipped out of the palace to switch the lights off or that I knocked Jennifer Hart out cold. You sneaked onto the terrace, knocked the bodyguard out, and approached Madame Carbonneau with a knife before stabbing her. In the confusion with the lights out, no one would notice you were missing.  You ran from the terrace before I turned the lights back on. Then when the Harts and all of the other guest learned Carbonneau was dead, we slipped back inside behind them. We committed the perfect murder."

"I know, but even criminals that have planned the perfect murder have been caught and punished. What if the Harts find out somehow we planned that witch's demise so we could take over Vogue together?"

"Unless you don't keep your mouth shut and calm down your nerves, then no one will know. If the Harts get too inquisitive or get anywhere near in finding out we murdered that hag, Avellino Aubuchon will have to take the rap for the crime himself. Now I suggest you pull yourself together and get over here soon."

"All right, Leonard. I guess I am panicking over nothing. I'll be over soon. I'm going to take a shower now. Au Revoir."

Leonard hangs up the receiver and turns his chair around. "Well, so Madame Jennifer Hart, you and your husband are amateur detectives? I guess now that your picture is plastered in every paper here in Paris, investigating Madame Carbonneau's murder is going to be a difficult task for you, isn't it?" he asks laughing as he continues drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper. "Good luck, Madame et Monsieur Hart!" he says, raising his glass. "I wish you luck! You're going to need it, my friends! You're going to need it!" 

Leonard Clement is none other than one of the employees who was at the meeting yesterday afternoon. He's the man who was talking to Clara Dansereau. 

Jonathan and Jennifer's Hotel Suite Minute Later

"Have you seen the mornin' paper, Mr. and Mrs. H?" Max asks Jonathan and Jennifer as they stand in front of him in the living area of their suite near the door as he shows them the article they had read earlier in the restaurant.

"Yes, we have, Max," Jonathan replies, sighing. 

"Why do I get the feeling everyone we know is going to ask the same question?" Jennifer wonders out loud.

"Max, we have an assignment for you," Jonathan tells him as he folds up the paper and hands it back to him. 

"Oh, yeah. Is it big?" Max asks, eagerly.

Vogue Two Hours Later

Max stands in front of Sophie's desk as she looks at his fake business card.

"You want to buy Vogue?!!!" she asks in shock at what he just told her after looking over his business card.

"Yeah. Not right away. First I just want to get a good glimpse around the place and see what I think. Of course I want to look over the company's books to see its financial shape before I decide to buy this magazine," Max says in an Italian accent as he is dressed in men stylish clothes from Vogue. He is wearing a hat and sunglasses.

"Well, I don't know-" she replies, hesitantly and nervously. 

"You don't have to worry about a thing, sweetie. You just tell whoever it is I need to see about buyin' the magazine and let me take it from there? Ok?" he asks, flashing her a smile.

"I guess it will be all right. You just have a seat in Madame Carbonneau's office. I'll see about having our accountant bringing up the company books for you."

"You're a doll," Max says, smiling at her as he heads to Madame Carbonneau's office. "Oh, me assistant will be along in a few. Show her in, will you please?" he asks as he turns around, facing her.

"Certainly, Monsieur," Sophie replies while Max whistles on his way to Madame Carbonneau's office. Sophie waits until she hears the door to Madame Carbonneau's office close before she picks up the receiver and dials a number. She waits a few seconds before her call is answered.

"Bonjour. Leonard Clement speaking."

"Leonard, I think we have a problem. An older man, who says he's Maximo Marino, is here. He says he wants to buy Vogue. My instinct tells me he is not who he says he is, and he is undercover for the Harts. There's something about that man that seems familiar. It could be my imagination, but I think I noticed him at the fundraiser last night. And he just told me that his assistant will be joining him. He wants to take a look at the company books."

"I get the feeling your instincts are right, my dear. Very strange. It has to be more than a coincidence that a man, who says he wants to buy Vogue, shows up the very day after Vedette's murder. Humor him. Let him see the books. Don't let in that we're onto him and the Harts."

"Oh, I'll humor him all right," Sophie replies, annoyed, mind made up not to let the Harts discover she and Leonard plotted and killed their employer together. She hangs up the receiver.

Madame Carbonneau's Office

Max is standing near the doorway of the office with the door halfway opened, holding a handheld and tiny Cassette recorder, a Sony walkman, in his hand. Unknown to Sophie, Max eavesdropped and overheard the entire conversation which he just recorded onto a Cassette tape. He smiles that at least now he and the Harts know who murdered Madame Carbonneau! All they have to do is find evidence to prove it.

Madame Carbonneau's Office Minute Later

Max is standing in the office with the door closed as Jennifer, in her disguise, listens to what Sophie told Leonard on the telephone which Max recorded.

"Leonard, I think we have a problem. An older man, who says he's Maximo Marino, is here. He says he wants to buy Vogue. My instinct tells me he is not who he says he is, and he is undercover for the Harts. There's something about that man that seems familiar. It could be my imagination, but I think I noticed him at the  fundraiser last night. And he just told me that his assistant will be joining him. He wants to take a look at the company books."

There is silence on the tape for a few moments before Jennifer and Max hear what Sophie said in response to whatever Leonard told her.

"Oh, I'll humor him all right," Sophie says. Max turns the recorder off and places it inside of his coat pocket. "What do you think, Mrs. H?" he asks in his natural voice.

"That certainly sounds like Sophie and Leonard are up to more than just maybe pillow talk," Jennifer says, smiling. "Good work, Max, but what they said isn't incriminating enough. We'll need to find proof. What you got on that tape lets us know we're on the right track. I'll call Jonathan to let him know we got a lead soon as I can get out of here." 

"That Sophie dame is comin' with that guy, who must be the accountant. Better get into character," Max says as he sits down in a chair after spotting Sophie and an older man walking to the office through the glass on the other side of the office door. Jennifer quickly does as Max told her. She takes a seat across from him. She is dressed up in a big blonde wig, purple ear rings, red dress, and a black tight skirt.  She has red nail polish on. Jennifer is imitating Mrs. Wiggins, a character from a skit on The Carol Burnett Show.  She takes gum from her purse and puts it into her mouth. She begins chewing it just as Sophie and the gentleman walk into the office. The gentleman is carrying the company books. 

"Ah, here we are, Mrs. Higgins," Max says in his Italian accent again as Sophie and the gentleman enter the office. They stare at Jennifer in complete shock and disbelief. They shoot each other a look as the accountant takes a seat in the chair facing the desk.

"Oh, Sophie, you didn't get to meet my assistant. May I introduce, Charlene Higgins?" Max asks, introducing Jennifer as his assistant.

"Hello," Jennifer says as she continues chewing her gum.

"Charlene, over here in France the greetin' is Bonjour."

"Oh, ok," Jennifer says, acting as if she is just a dumb blonde.

"Say it, Charlene," Max says.

"Say what?" Jennifer asks, pretending she doesn't understand.

"Say the greetin' over here in France."

"What greeting, Mr. Marino?"

Max sighs before responding. "Bonjour."

"Oh. Bon...gure.... "

"No, Bonjour."

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"Monsieur Marino, could we please just get on with this?" Sophie asks, losing her patience, but trying hard to remain calm.

"Sure. Please don't be so formal, dear. Call me Maximo."

"Sure, Maximo," Sophie says. "This is Monsieur Williquette. He is the head of accounting here at Vogue."

"It is nice to meet you, Mr. Williquette," Max replies.

"Likewise, Monsieur Marino et Madame Higgins," he says. "Now I brought all of the financial books showing the company's financial shape over the years including when Vogue started its first publication in April of 1920."

 "1920? That sure was a long time ago. 80 years ago," Jennifer says.

"Try more like 64 years, dear," Max says, correcting her.

Jennifer stops to think to act if she is adding up to see how long Paris Vogue has been in business while still chomping her gum.

"164 years?" Jennifer asks, confused. 

"No, dummy. I meant Paris Vogue has been in business since 1920 so that would make it 64 years not 164 years. Oh, never mind!" Max exclaims, pretending to be annoyed with her.

"Ok, and the name is Charlene not dummy," Jennifer tells him.

Max rolls his eyes. "Here let me take a look at 'em books, will you please?" he asks, turning to Mr. Williquette. 

"You can take a look at all of them long as you want. I don't think you'll need to see all of the financial books though. You can see far back as twenty years that Vogue has been in very good financial shape. I do think I should point out, however, that since Madame Carbonneau's death last night that could cause things to change. As much as I disliked the woman and the way she treated everyone around here including Sophie and myself, she did have a creative eye. I just don't know how this magazine could ever replace someone with her talent. September's edition is coming up very soon, and her unexpected passing will cause chaos around here."

"I remember readin' about Carbonneau's death in the paper this mornin'. Very tragic that someone with her talent has passed on so soon! I wouldn't worry about Vogue's financial status. If Paris Vogue has been in business for 64 years, I'm sure you'll be able to find someone that would do her proud. What is so special about September's edition? Is there somethin' I don't know about?"

"You see yesterday afternoon, Madame Carbonneau held a meeting. She wanted to see the entire layout and design for September's edition. There was nothing out of the ordinary about that, but for whatever reason she wasn't satisfied at all with what had been planned. Her reaction enraged everyone in that meeting from what I heard. They have to spend extra hours and days now redesigning next month's edition."

"Really?" Max asks, pretending to be shocked. "Then why is the place as quiet as a morgue today?"

"Out of respect for Madame Carbonneau's passing Vogue is closed today with exception of a few employees here. Some of the designers and staff are here. The rest of the employees have been told not to come in until tomorrow," Sophie replies. "We felt after the shock of finding her dead last night with all of the guest there among them, they needed time to recover."

"That certainly was thoughtful, my dear."

"Maximo, why are you interested in buying Vogue exactly? From what I read on your business card, buying a magazine isn't in your line of business."

"That is true, but somethin' happened that changed me entire life. I'll tell you about it."

Max is interrupted by Jennifer's loud chewing of her gum which she is still chomping. They watch her speechless for a few seconds as she opens her purse and takes out a nail file. She begins filing her nails briskly.

"Anyway, I was sittin' in me office in Italy last week when me wife calls and tells me the good news. You'll never guess what it was. It was a once in a million lifetime chance. I won the lottery. So I decided to take a trip to Paris and enjoy my good fortunate. Before I get on that airplane with Charlene here, I called up my business manager. I ask him what he thinks I should invest in. He tells me the usual. You know, stock, and everythin' else they tell folks to invest in. I told him no, I'm not interested. I told him about my trip to Paris. Guess what he tells me. He says, "Maximo, when you're in Paris the best thing to invest in is a magazine. He mentions all of 'em fashion magazines here. Guess what the last magazine he mentioned to me was. It was this very fashion magazine: Paris Vogue. So this mornin' when I see in the paper that the Editor- In- chief, Madame Vedette Carbonneau, was killed last night it was like a light bulb went off. I say to Charlene, "This is an answer to prayer. It was a sign that I should come here and take on me manager's advice, to buy Paris Vogue."

Suddenly they hear Jennifer crying, putting on fake tears as part of her act. Max, Sophie, and Mr. Williquette turn in her direction as she brings out tissues from her purse to wipe her eyes off.

"Hey, Charlene, what are you cryin' for?" Max asks, puzzled

"That was such a sweet and touching story you just told, Mr. Marino,"Jennifer replies, weepingly as she continues wiping away the fake tears.

Sophie and the accountant stare at each other, unsure what to make of "Charlene Higgins."

"Now if I could just look over this year's financial record," Max begins. "It would help a fellow like me to make up my mind."

"The books are completely at your disposal," Mr. Williquette, says handing Max the book of this  year's financial record. Max takes it and begins looking through the pages.

"Well, what I see so far is very impressive. You are a fine accountant, Mr. Williquette. Madame Carbonneau was a very lucky lady to have someone like you as her accountant."

"Merci, Monsieur Marino. Now if you don't have anymore questions concerning the financial state, I really must be leaving you et Madame Higgins alone now."

"Sure, suit yourself. I'm sure I'll find everythin' satisfactory." 

"Bonjour," Mr. Williquette says as he opens the door, heading out the room.

"Yeah, bonjour yourself," Max says as he continues reading the financial status.

"Mr. Marino, could you excuse me? I have to use the woman's restroom," Jennifer says as she slowly rises from her seat and wiggles her way to the door.

"Go ahead. Sophie, dear will you please, show her where it is? Charlene can't find her way out of  a box."

"Why not?" Sophie replies, her patience wearing thin. "Come with me," she tells Jennifer as she holds the door open, watching her as she wiggles her way out of the office. Sophie walks on ahead of her and holds open one of the adjoining doors to the entryway. Jennifer wiggles her way out. 

"Now," Sophie says as she holds the door open. "Make a left from where you are now and go straight down the hall. You'll see where it says women's restroom near one of the office doors. Got that?" she asks.

Jennifer continues chomping her gum and acting if she is processing what she had just been told before responding.

"Yes."

"Good," Sophie replies, annoyed. She rolls her eyes and walks right back to Madame Carbonneau's office as Jennifer carefully watches over her shoulder. As soon as she is out of her sight, Jennifer runs out stoping halfway to take her high heel shoes off that are beginning to hurt her feet. She continues running until she reaches her Mercedes. She opens the door and gets in the driver's seat.  She throws the shoes into the passenger's seat and shuts the door. She puts the car into drive and stops a few blocks away from the magazine house as not to cause attention. She picks up the car phone and dials a number.

An Apartment 

Jonathan is sitting in his Mercedes across the street from an apartment building. He is holding a pair of binoculars in his hand and is focusing on a window on the second floor. The car phone rings. He puts the binoculars in his lap and reaches over to answer the phone.

"Hello. Jennifer?"

"Yes, darling, it is me. I think we can eliminate Avellino as a suspect. Max overheard Sophie making a call to Leonard."

"Did they incriminate themselves?"

"In a way, yes. By her tone of voice and what she said it didn't seem like they were only concerned about the possibility of Max buying Vogue. Max got it all on the cassette."

"Good for Max and for you too, darling. How is the Mrs. Wiggins act going? Having fun?"

"It is going fine. Sophie and the accountant must think I'm the dumbest assistant that ever existed. I'm enjoying it except for imitating Carol's walk and having to wear high heels that are killing my feet. Max is looking over the financials for this year as we speak. Has Allevino left his apartment?"

"Not unless he sneaked out by the back entrance. He seems to be a recluse or a late riser. I haven't seen him doing one interesting thing. We've seen commercials on TV that are more exciting than what he has been doing for the past hour since I've been here."

"That bad of a stakeout, huh?" Jennifer asks, chuckling. "Look at this way, darling. At least you don't have to wear an oversized wig, high heels, look ridiculous, and give the impression you're a complete idiot."

"You're right. I remember when I had to play Tootsie when I went undercover with you at a health farm a few years back. That was one of my least favorite assignments. You better be getting back before Miss Sunshine misses you."

"I'm on my way. I'll tell them I had a hard time finding my way back from the restroom."

"I'm heading on over to see Inspector Michelot to tell him what we've been up to. Give me a call there if you need me."

"You can count on it, darling."

Jonathan hangs up the receiver and takes the binoculars off of his lap. He starts the engine and drives off.

Vogue 

Max is sitting in Madame Carbonneau's office as he just continues looking through the current book with the financial conditions of Vogue for this year. He is smoking a cigar that is getting on Sophie's nerves and causing her to cough constantly.

"Are you about through looking at the book, Maximo?" she asks, impatiently.

"I'm halfway there, dear," he replies without looking up. 

"I wonder where your assistant is. She is taking forever just to use the restroom."

"Well, you know how women are. No offense intended. As you can see Charlene isn't exactly the smartest dame that ever lived. She'll find her way back."

Max had no sooner gotten the words out of his mouth when the door opens, and Jennifer wiggles her way in, her high heels back on.

"Sorry I took so long, Mr. Marino. I couldn't find my way back."

"Don't worry, Charlene. I knew you would find your way back eventually," he says without looking up. He stops reading the book and closes it. He hands it back to Sophie.

"I'm satisfied. How do I buy the magazine?" he asks, glancing up at her.

"You're still want to buy Paris Vogue?!" she asks, enraged, but managing to stay calm.

"Sure. Is that a problem?"

"Monsieur Marino," Sophie begins. "I mean, Maximo, now isn't exactly the right time. It is going on lunch, and I haven't had my lunch break yet."

"Why didn't you say so in the first place? You go on now to lunch. Charlene and I will be back later this afternoon if that is ok."

"Maximo, as you know today is the day after Madame Carbonneau's murder. I don't think it would be appropriate for us to talk about you buying Vogue. Couldn't you come back tomorrow?"

"I'm afraid the answer is no. You see Charlene and I are flyin' back to Italy tomorrow. Speakin' of buyin’ this magazine, in the event of the Editor- In -chief's death who would take over Vogue?"

"Why do you ask that?" she asks, caught off guard and nervously.

"Just curious is all."

"Well, Vogue's publisher, Conde' Nest would decide who they would consider suitable to take over that job. If they picked anyone, it would most likely be me. I was her senior assistant for a long time. I learned a lot from Madame Carbonneau."

"Tell you what, Sophie. You go to lunch and give me a call afterwards. Than we'll see what can be worked out. Ok, dear?"

"Yes, I will call you." She picks up the books and walks out of the room, shutting the door on her way out.

"She certainly is a charmer," Jennifer remarks in her natural voice.

"Yeah. She looked like she couldn't wait to get us out of her hair. What did Mr. H have to say?"

Outer Office 

Sophie is standing at her desk dialing Leonard's telephone number. She puts the receiver up to her ear and waits for him to answer her call.

"Bonjour. Leonard Clement speaking."

"Leonard, it is Sophie. We're in trouble. This Maximo guy definitely claims he wants to buy Vogue. I think I managed to put him off for the time being, but he expects to hear back from me soon as I get back from my lunch break. You would not believe his assistant he brought with him. I have never seen anyone so ditzy."

"You go to lunch. I'll handle Monsieur Marino and his assistant."

"Good. After today it may have been worth it to let Madame Carbonneau live."

She hangs up the receiver, annoyed. She picks up her purse, opens one of the adjoining doors to the entryway, and walks out, slamming the door on her way out.

Jennifer and Max walk in with Max holding the cassette recorder once again in his hand.

"If that wasn't a confession, Mrs. H, then I don't know what is," he says with a sly grin on his face.

"I say we definitely gave her a good reason to slip up. I'm going to call Jonathan out in the car again. Come along, Max."

Just as they head toward the adjoining doors, Leonard walks in, holding a gun at them.

"Well, Jennifer Hart. You et Monsieur Hart never give up, do you?" he asks, giving her a sly grin. "Seems you made the slip up this time."

"I wouldn't count on that," Max replies.

"Monsieur Clement, you really shouldn't point guns. Didn't your mother tell you it is not nice to point?" Jennifer says, innocently and nervously.

"Let's leave my mother out of this, shall we?" he asks, sternly as he walks closer towards them standing only a few feet away from them. "It was very thoughtful of you to record Sophie's private conversations with me," he says, turning to Max. "Didn't anyone ever tell you eavesdropping is very rude?"

"At least eavesdropping isn't a criminal offense like murder," Jennifer replies. "How about Max just gives you the cassette and we'll call it a day?"

"I'm with Mrs H. on this."

"Max, I didn't ask for your opinion."

"No, you didn't, did you?"

"Now both of you put your hands up while I'll take the cassette."

Jennifer and Max shoot each other an uncomfortable look as they put their hands up. Still holding the gun, Leonard Clement walks over and takes the recorder out of Max's hand. When Leonard isn't looking, Jennifer carefully and slowly walks over to the wall. Just as Leonard takes the cassette out of the recorder, Jennifer quickly turns the light switch off, causing the entire room to be covered in darkness.

"TURN THE LIGHT SWITCH BACK ON!" Leonard yells, outraged. Suddenly a gun shot goes off.

"It's all right, Mrs. H. I've got the gun," Max says. 

"Are you hurt?" Jennifer asks, frantically.

"Nope. I don't know if I can say the same about our friend here."

Suddenly the lights come back on as Jennifer has just turned the light switch back on.

"And let there be light," Max says. 

Leonard is laying on the floor, blood pouring a little bit from a wound in his arm.

"I'll call an ambulance," Max says as he walks over to Sophie's desk and dials the operator.

"I'll call Inspector Michelot and Jonathan. Hopefully we can get a confession out of Al Capone here," Jennifer replies as she makes her way to what used to be her desk. She picks up the receiver and dials the number of the police.

"Operator, get me an ambulance. Someone has been shot here at Vogue," Max says.

"Bonjour. Paris Police Quartier General."

"Bonjour. This is Jennifer Hart. Is Inspector Michelot in? It is important that I speak to him. He should be there. My husband, Jonathan, was on his way to speak to him a few minutes ago."

"Oui, Madame. Just a moment. I'll let the inspector know you're calling."

"Merci," Jennifer replies. "What about the ambulance, Max?" she asks, turning to him.

"They're on their way," Max replies as he hangs up the receiver. "Well, pal, it looks like you're the one who made the slip up," he says, turning to a defeated Leonard Clement, who is trying to cover up his wound with his hand. He gives Max and Jennifer an angry look.

"There's a handkerchief in my purse."

Max nods as he walks over to her purse which fell on the floor during the struggle.

"Inspector Michelot speaking," the inspector says as his voice finally comes on the telephone. "I'm here with your husband, Madame Hart. Is something wrong?"

"Only slightly, inspector. Mr. Leonard Clement showed up unexpectedly with a gun pointing at us as we were getting ready to leave. I managed to turn the light switch off, and Max got ahold of the gun. In the struggle, Clement received a minor injury in the arm. Max called an ambulance."

"What about Sophie Raymon?"

"She's left. She supposedly went to lunch. Oh, by the way, Max managed to get what you would call a confession on the cassette from Sophie. Clement caught us with the recorder just after she left."

"We're on our way, Madame Hart."

Just as Jennifer is about to say something, the inspector hangs up.

"What did that inspector say?" Max asks as he holds the handkerchief, which he has wrapped around Leonard's wound, holding the gun in his other hand.

"They're on their way. Max, you stay here with Clyde," Jennifer says, hanging up the receiver.

"Wait a minute, Mrs. H. Where do you think you're goin'?" he asks.

"I'm going after Bonnie," Jennifer says, picking up her purse, hurrying out of the building after taking off her shoes once again.

"Why do I always get stuck with these kind of assignments?" Max wonders out loud as he looks at Leonard. 

Paris Police Headquarters at Place Louise Lepine 

"Is Jennifer ok?" Jonathan asks as he hurries into the passenger's side of Inspector Michelot's police vehicle.

"Your wife is well, Monsieur Hart. Only Clement is wounded," Inspector Michelot replies as he starts the engine and drives off just as Jonathan shuts the passenger's door. Inspector Michelot speeds off toward Vogue with another police car following him.

Avellino Aubuchon's Apartment Minutes Later

Sophie is standing in Avellino's apartment pointing a gun at a frightened and shocked Avellino as they stand in his living room.

"Now I want you to sit down next to your drawing board and write a confession, saying you and Clara Dansereau plotted and killed Madame Vedette Carbonneau."

"I'll do no such thing! You'll never get away with this!" he replies, sternly.

"Thanks to you and Leonard I will."

"What?! You and Leonard Clement were both in on Carbonneau's murder?"

"Yes. We had it planned for months now. That gun shot, that was fired at her yesterday afternoon, was only to shake her up a bit. If the Harts hadn't been at the fundraiser last night, we wouldn't have needed you to take the blame. That is what we get for threatening other people's lives. You asked for it." 

"I never threatened to kill her! I've only threatened to see she would pay for taking credit for my work!" 

"No, but you did have the perfect motive. Sure Leonard and I had the perfect motive too, but unlike you we didn't make threats. You really should learn to control that mouth of yours, Avellino. It can really get you into terrible trouble. The police really do see threats as part of their evidence for an arrest. I'm going to do the law abiding citizen thing by having you confess."

"If you were a law abiding citizen, Sophie, you'd go to the police to confess you and Leonard were responsible for that witch's death. Instead you're letting me take the rap for something I didn't do. What about the murder weapon? My fingerprints aren't on that knife."

"No, but you will confess that you wiped them off with a handkerchief. Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way. You either sit down and write that confession. Or I can hold this gun at you like I am now while you write the confession before I kill you. It is your decision, Avellino."

Avellino's eyes open wide with fear, and he begins trembling, in fear for his life.

"I thought you would agree once I threatened you," Sophie says, smiling. "Let's sit down at the drawing board now, shall we?"

"Why don't you sit down, Sophie, while I call Inspector Michelot to let him know of your plans?" comes Jennifer's voice.

Sophie and Avellino turn around in shock to see Jennifer standing in the doorway of his apartment with a gun in her hand.

"You know when you're giving away secrets that could be held against you in a court of law, do you really think it is a good idea to keep the door open?"

"YOU?!!" Sophie shouts, alarmed and in shock. "How, I mean, what are you doing here? Leonard was going to take care of you and your servant!!!"

"He would have, but he has been regretfully delayed."

"You killed him?!!!"

"No, no need to worry. It is just a slight wound," Jennifer says, smiling. 

Sophie shoots Jennifer a look of rage and takes a shot at her with her gun, but Jennifer manages to avoid the shot by quickly dodging behind the door. Avellino makes for the gun, but Sophie shoots him in the stomach. He falls to the ground backwards, some blood spilling onto the carpet from his wound. In a panic and realizing what she has done, Sophie drops her gun into her purse and makes towards the door.  Everyone in the building has heard the commotion. Some of the residents close by walk out of their apartment to see what happened. Jennifer quickly conceals the gun in her purse as to not to throw suspicion on herself.

"Call an ambulance for this man," Jennifer tells one of the male occupants as she motions with her head toward Avellino who is still lying on the floor, alive, but bleeding from his wound. All the residents are confused and frightened by what just taken place. The male  tenant Jennifer just spoke to goes into Avellino's apartment to call an ambulance. Jennifer hurries after Sophie has had a head start from her.

A Street In Paris

Jonathan, Max, and Inspector Michelot are speeding towards Avellino Aubuchon's apartment in the police car.

"I'm sorry I couldn't convince Mrs. H not to wait until you showed up, Mr. H," Max says from the backseat.

"It's not your fault, Max. Jennifer has always been headstrong," Jonathan replies, gently.

"It is just a good thing that Monsieur Clement admitted that he et Madame Raymont were planning to frame Monsieur Aubuchon if necessary so we would know where to look for your wife, Monsieur Hart," Inspector Michelot says. 

Street Where Avellino's Apartment Is Located

Sophie is running down the sidewalk of the street with Jennifer chasing after her. Sophie turns her back every few seconds to make sure her captor isn't going to fire a shot at her or worse. She looks around, desperate for a place to hide or some kind of transportation to get away. Jennifer is only a few sidewalks away from her. Sophie comes near a corner of a street. Not able to figure a way out, she stands speechless as Jennifer continues chasing her.

Sophie suddenly sees that she is near the Paris Metropolitan Station which is a block away from her. Looking both ways before she crosses the street, Sophie runs in the direction of the Paris Metropolitan Station. Jennifer is only a few feet away from her. Suddenly she hears a siren coming in her direction. Before Jennifer can react, a police car pulls in front of her. It is Inspector Michelot driving the car! Jonathan flings open the passenger's door and bolts out of the car. Jennifer sighs in relief as Jonathan approaches her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Darling, are you all right?" he asks relieved to see that his wife is not injured.

"I'm fine. It was me doing the pursuing for a change. Sunshine is getting away."

"Inspector, give me your gun now!" Jonathan orders.

Without hesitation, Michelot throws Jonathan his gun which Jonathan fortunately manages to catch without missing. Jonathan and Jennifer take after Sophie, determined to get her before she can escape. Inspector Michelot and Max watch. Sophie has just entered the station through the underground.

The Harts are not far behind.  They run through the underground after her.  Jonathan and Jennifer dash quickly in between and around passengers waiting in the terminal. Confusion and fear show on the bystanders' faces. Everyone begins to say, "What's wrong? What's happening?" 

Jonathan breaks quickly to the right, continuing the chase as he rushes down the stairs to the platform where an oncoming train is arriving. In a desperate attempt to get away, Sophie unexpectedly grabs the gun out of her purse just as the passengers hop off of the train.

"You come near me, and I'll shoot you!" Sophie exclaims, pointing the gun at Jonathan as he reaches her. The passengers stop dead in their tracks and scream in horror.  Jennifer comes running down the stairs to the platform, breathlessly, from behind out of sight. Her eyes grow wide in fear at seeing her husband's life being threatened. 

"Drop the gun!"

Jonathan hesitates. 

"NOW!!!" Sophie demands.

Just as Jonathan is about to give in to her demands and drop the gun, an older Englishman  approaches Jennifer who is blocking his way to the stairs. He happens to be carrying a Victorian era umbrella featuring a carved wooden dog handle. Jennifer grabs his umbrella. She walks over close to Sophie. Managing to stay out of sight, Jennifer throws the umbrella at Sophie's head, knocking her off her feet to the ground, unconscious. Jonathan is taken by surprise at what just happened.

"BULLSEYE!" Jennifer shouts with a proud smile. Jonathan turns around upon hearing her voice and gives her an approving smile.

"Three cheers for my wife!" he shouts as she rushes up to him. 

Everyone including the gentleman, whose umbrella Jennifer borrowed, cheer for Jennifer's bravery.

"Well, thank you very much!" Jennifer replies, blushing a bit embarrassed by the attention.  The passengers all nod as they head about their way now that there isn't anymore danger.

"Jonathan, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, darling. Just another day in the life of a happily married couple who seems to attract the wrong kind of acquaintances. Must be something we say to bring out the best in people or the worst?"

"Oh, Jonathan, isn't that the truth?" Jennifer says with a smile. "I'm glad you insisted I carry that gun you bought me. Sunshine would haven't have had a problem showing me her shooting skills."

"Oh, pardon me. Could I have my umbrella back, please?" the gentleman asks.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry," Jennifer replies as she picks up the umbrella. She brings it to the man. "Thank you so much!"

"That is quite all right," he replies, smiling as he takes the umbrella, heading on his way out of the station.

Inspector Michelot is running towards the couple along with several of his policemen. They stop as they see what has happened to Sophie, confusion on their faces.

"She'll come around, inspector. Jennifer just put her to sleep with a passenger's umbrella," Jonathan explains, chuckling as he embraces Jennifer, who also laughs at her husband's response. Once again the Harts have saved the day!

Parc Kellermann Late That Afternoon

Jonathan and Jennifer are walking with Max in one of the many parks in Paris that afternoon. Jennifer is walking Adele while Jonathan is walking Freeway.

"Paris sure is a lovely city. I loved living here when I was studying at The Sorbonne," Jennifer says as she looks around admiringly.

"So you still love it even after all the crazy things you have been through here, Mrs. H?" Max asks.

"Well, now that you mention that," Jennifer replies, smiling. 

Jonathan and Max smile at her response.

"Speakin' of crazy, I never did understand why you and Mr. H staged that fight last night."

"We thought we explained it to you, Max," Jonathan replies.

"You sorta did. I only got part of the reason why you were actin' out a fight."

Jonathan and Jennifer stop walking as they explain.

"You see Jennifer came up with the idea for me to charm Madame Carbonneau. Winning her over was only part of the plan. We figured if she got too caught up by my attention towards her, it would get out of hand."

"If people saw that woman kiss Jonathan with me around, they would catch on to our scheme," Jennifer finishes explaining.

"Oh, I get it now. So in order to look like Mr. H was flirtin' with that dame seriously, you wanted people convinced he was a skirt chaser with a wife who wasn't goin' to put up with it. It could have risked your relationship with that witch."

"I thought of that too. We had to risk it. We didn't have a choice since Freeway was in love with Adele," Jonathan says.

"Troublemaker," Max remarks as he looks at Freeway. 

"Darling, I'm curious about something myself. How did you suspect Leonard and Sophie were the killers?" Jennifer asks as they continue walking.

"Just a hunch. It is always the least person you would expect to commit a murder. Leonard did hear Clara say what she would to Carbonneau if she had a knife. If Clara had planned to kill her employer, she most likely wouldn't dare say such a thing out loud in public where she could be easily overheard. As for Avellino, he wouldn't have anything to gain except being free to let everyone know Carbonneau had stolen his ideas unless he just wanted revenge. Speaking of Avellino, have you heard anything about his injury?"

"Yes, Clara called me an hour ago. He had to have surgery, but the doctor is hopeful he will recover. Even though it was a wild goose chase, it was a good idea you decided to stakeout his apartment."

"Now, darling, I'm curious about something. Why did you pack that recorder when we were just packing for our anniversary weeks ago?"

"Just a habit of a journalist," Jennifer replies. "Oh, Jonathan and Max, look at Adele and Freeway!" she exclaims, pointing to the dogs.

Jonathan and Max look at Adele and Freeway who are licking each other, happy to be reunited.

"I wish we could keep Adele," Jennifer says. "But I am thankful that Carbonneau's ex- husband let us borrow her so she and Freeway can see each other one last time." She smiles as tears come into her eyes as they continue to watch the dogs.

"Is something wrong, darling?" Jonathan asks, puzzled why she is crying.

"No, darling. It is just being in love sure is wonderful," she says, thoughtfully.

"Sure is," Jonathan says, embracing her, locking her into a kiss.

Max smiles as he takes the leashes from them. He walks on ahead with Freeway and Adele while he lets Jonathan and Jennifer continuing kissing alone in the park.