by Lee Perry
He had prepared his catches and loaded the car then retired to his bed to sleep until nightfall when he rose to eat and research his next catch before leaving to deliver the torsos and then headed for the marina. After feeding the fishes with all eight bags of body parts, he returned the Fair Winds & Following Seas to the marina and spent the remainder of the day below deck sound asleep. When he woke, he was still exhausted so he spent the night and the following morning, after breakfast, instead of driving home he found himself making the four-hour drive north to Pawtucket.
When Richard Alden graduated from the University of Rhode Island, he left as a newlywed and with a master’s in chemistry he used to get a job at a plastics company he worked for until his retirement. He was only fifty-eight when dementia began the slow consumption of his brain but he successfully hid the gradual and worrying onset of symptoms affecting his memory, sleep and behavior for several years until the day his neighbor spotted him standing naked on the deck of his boat in his driveway, screaming, “Cock-a-doodle do! My little cock’ll do!” The neighbor had called the police, and Jonas was grateful for his father’s involuntary hospital stay until he got conservatorship of Richard Alden’s person and estate, and with the help of a social worker, placement in a specialized Alzheimer’s facility near his home in Pawtucket.
He parked and got out, heading for the lobby of the Pilgrimage Care facility. When he entered, a young receptionist greeted him with a bright smile.
“Mister Alden,” she said warmly, “how are you?”
He cleared his throat, “Fine, thank you.”
“Here to see your dad?” She asked, picking up the receiver and pushing buttons on her phone. He nodded and she murmured, “Mister Alden’s son is here for a visit...” He could hear distant talking and when she hung up, she smiled again, “It’ll just be a few minutes.”
“Thank you.” He repeated and stepped into the waiting area, choosing to stand by the window rather than sitting on one of the uncomfortable-looking leather couches.
Ten minutes passed before a nurse came out to greet him, “Mister Alden?” she held out her hand, “Hi, I’m Melissa; I can take you back to see your dad now.”
“Thank you.” He shook her hand and followed her through the locked double doors she accessed with a keycard.
“He’s having a good day,” she said, her voice conversational, “he’s quite lucid at the moment.”
Jonas murmured, “Those moments can be fleeting.”
“Just come get me if he gets feisty. As the dementia progresses he’s becoming more verbal but he’s also getting crankier.” She gave him a reassuring smile, “As you already know.” He only nodded and she continued as they walked down the wide linoleum corridor, “He’s gone from being completely mute to snide and profane, frankly. Right now he’s being pleasant,” She gave his arm a pat, “perfect timing for a visit.” She stopped in front of Richard Alden’s room and knocked on the door before entering, “Hey, Richard…” She greeted softly as she entered, “Your son came in to see you.” Jonas entered the room, standing awkwardly and Melissa waved a hand as she left, “I’ll leave the door open for you, but you can close it if you like.”
He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets, “Okay, thanks.”
She left and Jonas walked over to the window and stood next to his father. Richard Alden had been tall once, his wife Gwen had described both her husband and son as being lanky and strong but now, the frail pajama and bathrobe-clad specter before Jonas sat slumped in the recliner, a mere shell of the man he had once been.
“Hey, pop.”
“Yah…” Heavy, grizzled gray eyebrows twitched amid a sea of wrinkles, “hey yourself.”
Jonas drew in a deep breath, these visits didn’t usually last long or end well and he steeled himself, “How have you been?”
“Who cares?” he grumbled, staring out the window at an enclosed grassy area populated with wheelchair-bound patients parked next to benches under shady trees.
Jonas was quiet; Maybe this visit is going to be briefer than usual.
A long moment passed and Richard Alden asked, “Still have your boat?”
“I do. I just came from the marina.”
“Oh, my,” He father said in a mocking singsong voice, “aren’t we fancy? Marina. You shoulda’ bought a sport fishing boat.” He emitted a disdainful, contemptuous snort. “But you’re some kinda’ high falutin’ pussy now, aren’t ya’? You shoulda’ got a boat you can trailer… Buying one so big you have to pay for a berth…” He was becoming increasingly agitated and his voice rose, “Now that’s what I call a stupid fucking waste of money!”
Jonas drew a deep slow, calming breath; I am a Peaceful Being… “So you don’t want to go fishing with me?”
“No!”
“Have any dates lately?”
He twisted slightly in the chair to look up at him, “What’s that?”
Jonas continued to stare out the window and his eyes squinted in concentration, “Wasn’t there a Missus Katzman…” His brow furrowed as he searched his memory, “Kurzweil… Didn’t she ask you out on a date once?”
“Fuck no.” He said gruffly, “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
Jonas suddenly smiled, chuckling, “Why not? I’d think you’d be quite a catch…” He continued to stare out the window but his voice trailed away and the smile faded from his lips.
He turned in the cushioned seat in a sudden flare of anger but when he opened his mouth to shout and curse, Jonas turned to look down at him and he froze. Richard Alden had looked his son in the eye only a dozen times or so in his life, but what he saw there now, in eyes the same color as his own frightened him. “You’d better go.” He grumbled and turned back to the window.
Cedar Knolls, NJ
She had stopped at a drive-thru for their lunch and Jordan crumpled the burger wrapper one-handed and stuffed it in the paper bag beside her, “At least Cedar Knolls is closer than Piscataway…”
“Yeah, will Stewart mind going there for the other one?”
“He’s going by helicopter,” Jordan chuckled, “so I doubt it… he’s been in admin a long time now, he really does enjoy the occasional field trip out of the office, even if it’s for a torso.”
Catherine looked ahead at the line of FBI vehicles in front of them, “I’ll bet Mary goes on vacation after this is over.”
“Hopefully we can too.”
She gave her a hopeful glance, “Really?”
“A long weekend, if nothing else.” Jordan followed the FBI vehicles onto Malapardis Rd. “Oh, jeez…” she moaned. The industrial road was crammed with a dozen police cars and TV vans and she pulled over and parked behind Mary’s van, “Stay here ‘til I come get you, okay?”
“Will do,” Catherine slipped her ice tea back into the cup holder and pulled the tablet out of her bag, “Have tablet, will travel.”
Jordan slid out of the car and Catherine grinned when she heard her lock the door before shutting it. When she caught up to Mary she said, “Got your fingerprint scanner?”
“I know,” Mary held up the device with one hand and pulled a pair of latex gloves out of her jacket with the other, “I’ll do that first.”
Jordan fished her badge wallet out of her jacket and held it up for the police sergeant who approached.
“Agent?”
She held out her hand, “Hawkins.”
“Russell…” He nodded and shook the proffered hand, “thanks for coming. We have a secure perimeter, and now the media’s seen your FBI vehicles I’m sure they’d like an interview.”
“Well, they won’t be getting one from me.” She said, walking briskly and ducking under the yellow crime scene tape.
“I’ve heard about these murders on the news,” he followed her, glancing at the news cameras; “I can’t believe we got one here now.”
Stewart sent Jordan and Catherine texts, letting them know he had arrived at the other crime scene and he and Catherine exchange
d texts and emails as information about the torso in Piscataway was discovered. More than an hour passed before Jordan came back to the car.
“Sorry,” she said, sliding back into the driver’s seat, “the media is not budging and we need to get the torso out of here, so you won’t be able to try the psychometric thing.”
“That’s okay.” Catherine’s nose wrinkled, “it’s odd the press never turned out for the ones prior to this but Stewart said this time someone saw the reports of two torsos found and it went viral through the news agencies.”
“Well then, that figures.” She clicked her seatbelt into place, “I don’t know about you, but I need to pee, and I’m thinking when we get back we should just grab Cam from daycare and go home for the night, I can get some work done after he goes to bed.”
“Me too.” Catherine clicked her seatbelt into place, “To both those things; I’d also love a restroom right now... Drive and I’ll tell you what I have so far…” She tapped the screen on her tablet, “Mary was very sneaky and sent me the ID from this victim and I have stuff on Stewart’s too.”
“Okay.” Jordan turned on the engine and made a u-turn, heading back the way they came.
“So, who you had here was John McChristy, VP of Strategic Relations for BuzzTrade in Parsippany, New Jersey and Stewart’s case was Eric Bachman; VP of Market Development at Threshold Exchange in Wall Township, New Jersey. His torso was found, guess where…”
“Tucked in some trees on an industrial road?”
“Yes, on Possumtown Road in Piscataway, New Jersey.”
“So,” Jordan clicked on the turn signal and pulled into a fast food drive thru and parked, “the first three torsos found were all traders at stock exchanges, and now we have, in rapid succession three more torsos, only these are all vice presidents at stock exchanges.”
“That’s right,” Catherine said, “Mister Kanther was a VP too, wasn’t he?” They hurried from the car and she added, “Remind me to get another ice tea before we go.”
Howell Township, NJ
He can’t leave unnoticed, the security there is pretty good. He parked the car and wearily got out, locking the door and headed for the house. And if I remotely shut down their security camera feeds and magnetically locked doors their patients could just walk out… It might cause sufficient chaos if they left all at once but I’d still be seen when I went in to get him, I could be recognized. He entered the house, closing and locking the front door behind him. I could wear a disguise… if I told him I was taking him to his boat he’d likely go with me. He walked down the hall to the bathroom to relieve himself, If he was lucid… and that’s a big if… Perhaps if I told him I trailered his boat there, he’d at least go out to the parking lot with me to see it, wouldn’t he? Then I could taser him and put him in the trunk… He relieved himself and flushing the toilet, stopped at the sink to wash his hands. When he straightened to grab the small hand towel hanging under the mirror he saw his reflection and froze, his hand dripping water mid-reach, suddenly seeing his father’s eyes staring back at him.
“You do have your father’s eyes… and more than that, you have your father’s tall angular, wiry build. But you have my hair…” His mother always teased, grabbing his dark thick curls and pulling him close so she could plant a loud kiss on them.
But he’s demented now… If I’m like him so much, how much longer do I have?
He stared into the eyes reflected in the mirror until he saw his cubicle at SAEx. He had the job for a few months but still exchanged weekly emails with his ex-college roommate and only friend, Don Kaufman. Both graduated with degrees in computer science but Don was ambitious and leapfrogged his way through four stock exchanges until he landed a job as a code writer in a premier exchange in the south tower of the World Trade Center, the first to fall on September 11, 2001. Jonas had received an email from him saying he thought he had just experienced his first earthquake when he looked at his second screen and saw the small news window he kept tucked in the upper right hand corner showing smoke billowing from the middle of one of the twin towers. He remembered the confusion he felt, looking from Don’s email to the live video feed of the second jetliner hitting the north tower. Mortality, realized in the blink of an eye. Who is to say how much time any one of us has left? He bent over the sink and turning on the faucet, splashed cold water on his face.
When he straightened, he grabbed the towel to dry his face and hands and gazed back into the mirror. “It’s time to grow up now…” He heard his mother’s voice and smiled. “Who are you?” She asked.
“I am Jonas Alden,” He said, his voice soft and gentle, “I am a Peaceful Being, I am Destroyer.” His eyes drifted closed, “I am He Who Oppresses, I am Accomplished, a Gift from God, a Wise Old Friend.”
“You know how to stop them… and you can, Jonas…. You must.”
Agreed; taking my catches one at a time is not an efficient methodology. “I need a new strategy,” he said aloud, “to act in the Shortness of Time to accomplish my goal.” He opened his eyes, “A code would do that…” He stopped, turning abruptly from his reflection he left the bathroom and hurried to his laptop in the living room, “And I can do that... I can write the code that stops them all.”
He worked feverishly for two days, stopping often to draw on the three whiteboards he’d mounted on the far wall in his living room. Using the rogue bit of code that caused the flash crash at SAEx, he imbued his new code with the capacity to run wild in the datastreams controlling Wall Street. Don’t pollute it with revisions… he scolded silently, keep modifications to a minimum. He had connected his laptop to a larger monitor and fixed his eye on the rows and rows of seemingly endless code as it streamed past.
After another hour passed, he lifted his stiff and cramped forefinger from the page-down key and drew a shaky breath. He rose from his swivel chair and blinked as he shuffled tiredly to the window and looked out. Once the program initiates it will be impervious to shutdown. “But more than that,” he said aloud, smiling tiredly, “I have given it the capacity to live on its own; I have imbued it with Life... Abiogenesis.” He said, appearing to speak to the grassy field beyond to glass. “The only way they’ll be able to stop it is to rip out their black boxes and start over.”
The smile that touched his lips was tender, “And after all this time I finally understand why I left my catches where I did. I wanted the placement to be symbolic…” He suddenly erupted in laughter that faded after only a moment and he tiredly placed his hands and forehead flat against the glass, “I was afraid the symbolism would never be understood by the world, but it turns out I was the last to see it.”
But now I see and I understand… and once my code initiates, Wall Street will destroy itself. His eyes turned to gaze at the far end of the field, “But first, I must let go of my old purpose.”
He pushed himself away from the glass and headed for the front door, pulling on his jacket as he left. He tramped over the damp grass, heading to the far end of his field, following a path made by deer. He followed it to the property line and surrounding trees and approached the tree that had fallen during a storm two years previously. He had used the wheelbarrow to take the body to the back of his property and left it behind the fallen White Ash. His nose wrinkled in curiosity and disgust; the flesh had either been eaten or rotted away and all that remained of Mitch Ryan was his skeleton and his clothes. Jonas hunkered down, his hands resting on his knees, and long minutes passed while he stared at the remains.
On that fateful night, in his anger he had sliced off Mitch Ryan’s privates and when he decided to discard the body at the far end of his field, he stabbed the severed genitals with his filleting knife and jabbed the blade into Mitch’s chest so they’d stay put until he dumped the body behind the tree. I guess they’re long gone now… probably rotted or dragged away by scavenging predators, like crows or a fox….
Well then, he straightened, good, this should go a lot faster…
Millburn, NJ
“OH!”
Catherine sat bolt upright and Jordan jumped from their bed and grabbed her service weapon from the nightstand.
She clamped her hands over her mouth, “I’m so sorry!” She said in a muffled voice.
Breathless, Jordan dropped her hands to her sides and nodded, “S’okay…” she drew a calming breath, “bad dream?”
“Yeah, sorry, what I saw in that garage was pretty creepy.” She turned on the lamp on her nightstand and grabbed her journal and pen. “I’m gonna’ jot it down real quick while it’s still horridly fresh in my mind…”
“Sure.” Jordan returned her service weapon to the nightstand. “I’m gonna’ go to the bathroom.” She turned to go, “Sure you’re okay?”