That Devil Woman

XX - Desperate Measures

The following morning, Cruella sped through the countryside on the way to Hell Hall. She wore her signature fur coat with a matching fur hat. Christmas was nearing once more, and the fields were coated with thick white snow. Cruella used to like Christmas for its festivities and its atmosphere; now, she like Christmas for the desolateness of Winter.

Cruella was eager to get to Hell Hall, hoping desperately that Jasper and Horace had completed their task. She was so nervous about the police she could hardly sleep. She was in such a precarious position – one wrong move and she would be caught. Jasper and Horace, she thought, could hardly be trusted, but they were the only way she could avoid the guilt of the stolen puppies being targeted towards her. Her alibi would be that she was at home, far away from her studio in Suffolk. And she did not even have to lie about it.

Then, she saw two figures searching around in the snow enveloping the hill beneath Hell Hall. She scowled. Jasper held a fireplace poker and Horace held what appeared to be the leg off one of Claude's antique chairs. They were both swatting their weapons blindly into the snow. Cruella offered a quick prayer to herself, hoping that all this foolishness did not suggest that the puppies were still alive, and slammed on the brakes.

"Jasper! Horace!" she called, quickly getting their attention as she slammed the car door behind her. They both appeared very nervous. "What are you doing out here at this time of the morning?" Neither answered. "Is the job done?" Cruella asked in a deep tone.

"Ma'am," Horace finally spoke, stuttering fearfully, "we had a breach of security, per se."

"Horace, quit speaking in code," Cruella snapped. "I'll assume that my puppy fur is ready for collection at the site." Their silence confirmed Cruella's suspicions.

"The dogs are alive?" Cruella boomed. "In that case, why aren't you watching them, you imbeciles?"

"I'm not quite sure," Jasper stammered. Cruella saw through the façade immediately. "Let me just ask my associate here. Uh, Horace, why aren't we watching the dogs?" he added, shifting the blame to Horace. All the colour suddenly drained from Cruella's face. She glared into Horace's eyes expectantly.

"Horace..." Cruella said, slowly and menacingly, "where are the dogs?"

"Well, you see, Miss. At the moment, we don't entirely know where exactly the dogs are, but we're..."

Cruella flicked her wrist, promptly shutting him up. She imagined the puppies, galivanting through the countryside on their way back to the city. She imagined all her admirers moving on. She imagined her genius falling into obscurity once more. She imagined what people like Maureen could do without someone like herself to thwart her.

"Jasper. Horace," Cruella said softly. "Get back in your car..." A sudden explosive rage overtook her.

"And catch those puppies!"

Jasper and Horace quickly scrambled into their van. Cruella returned to the roadster. She shouted at them through the window.

"Work your way South on the side roads! I'll take the main road!" she demanded. She turned the look out the windscreen at the vast expanse of the English countryside. She clutched her steering wheel with determination as she slammed her red heels on the accelerator.

"I will have my fur coat!"

After searching all night, the next morning, Cruella had followed their pawprints to the small village of Dinsford. So they thought they could outwit Cruella, she thought to herself, grinning with glee. After a failed encounter at a stable, Jasper and Horace had also made their way to Dinsford. Cruella stayed in her Roadster, doing laps around the village, peering into the windows of the old shacks and homes. She ordered that Jasper and Horace leave their van and have a more thorough search. She looked at them bumbling around through the snow through her rearview mirror and groaned.

"Jasper! Horace!" Cruella shouted. They approached her slowly as she leaned out her window was a twisted expression. "Well?"

"Oh, now, be reasonable, Miss," Jasper pleaded, a plea he knew was futile.

"We're froze clean to our bones!" Horace added.

"We've been out all night and all day, and with nothing to eat."

"They're somewhere in this village, and we're going to find them!" Cruella shouted back, slamming her fist against the car door. "Now get going!" She drove away once more.

Cruella continued with the lap she must have done four or five times already. She kept finding tracks, but had to remember that earlier she had seen a large family of Labradors roaming around. How she wished she could just kill them as well to get them out of her way, but she had to be rational; she was in enough danger from the law as it was. She was truly at her wit's end. And, moreover, she felt so disconnected from humanity. She felt so removed from, even above, Jasper and Horace, and Anita and Roger as well. She felt as though at any moment, her sense of duty and personhood could slip away.

She quickly slammed on the brakes as she saw something dark out of her windscreen. She leaned out of her window and stared at the ground ahead of her. She grimaced. It was only one of those Labradors again. It cowered as it peered out from in front of the car. A line of Labradors followed behind it hunched over in fear.

Cruella paused for a moment and looked forward at the rising sun. It had been over twenty-four hours with no sign of the puppies. Cruella's desperation and frustration transformed into dread. She was losing hope of ever getting her hands on her puppy coat. She remembered how adored she felt when she was in the spotlight. For a brief moment, she felt she should just mourn the loss of her fame and status. Maybe she should just let the Dalmatians find their way back home. She could at least be absolved of that guilt. But, still, there was the matter of her late father. No. She had come too far now.

She looked to her side to see if the Labradors had passed yet. She noticed that they were walking peculiarly in single-file towards a moving van that was being prepared on the side of the road. Even more peculiar still, the larger Labrador was lifting its puppies onto the back of the van. It was as if they were attempting to escape the village. It was as if they had heard of the cruelty of Cruella de Vil and were making a run for it.

Then, as the snow on the rooftops melted, a drop of snow fell down onto one of the puppies. Cruella looked closer. It appeared that it had almost melted away its dark colour and stained it with white. It happened again. This time, the snow revealed a white patch with some black spots. Again and again, drops of melted snow fell onto the puppies. The larger Labrador suddenly appeared very panicked when a few drops of snow landed on its own face.

"It can't be..." Cruella told herself out loud. "It's impossible..."

Suddenly, a large mound of snow fell onto the second-to-last puppy. The larger puppy dashed towards it and scooped it from the snow with its teeth. It ran towards the van. Cruella glared at what the snow had revealed.

Spotted Dalmatian fur.

They tried to fool her!

"Jasper! Horace!" Cruella again screamed, honking her horn furiously. The two men appeared from a shack door, the wood breaking and crashing into the side of Cruella's roadster. She snarled at them, her black and white hair frizzing out from beneath her hat.

"There they go!" she shouted, pointing. "In the van!"

Jasper and Horace chased the van a short distance. They had nearly caught up to the exposed Dalmatian puppy. Before they could reach it, another dog, presumably a real Labrador bolted out from behind the van. It barked and growled at Jasper's and Horace's feet, causing them to trip over and allowing all the puppies to get in the van as it pulled out of the village.

Cruella chased after the van in her car and Jasper and Horace got into their own van.

If she wanted something done, clearly, she had to do it herself.