The Equinox

by M J Preston

  “This boy was from here?” Kolchak asked Mick.

  “Yes, he was. He was a nice kid,” Mick answered.

  “You knew him well?”

  “Yes, very well. His father, John, and I grew up together; we used to play softball.” Mick avoided looking into Kolchak’s eyes, not wanting to be probed.

  Kolchak scribbled something down on the pad and asked, “Can I see where the crime was uncovered?”

  “Yes, this way.”

  Mick led him toward the tree, where Derek Wakeman witnessed Hopper’s crime and pointed. “He was up there. Saw Hopper bury him and sat through the whole thing.”

  “Goodness.” Kolchak shook his head and said, “Corrl.”

  “What?” Cooper questioned.

  “During the early 1970s in Houston Texas, there was a trio of serial killers led by a homosexual sadist named Dean Corrl. His two accomplices procured boys for him, and in one instance when they were burying a body, they were happened upon by a hunter. The hunter had a rifle, but being safety conscious he had removed the bullets and placed them in his breast pocket. They overpowered, then killed the accidental witness and buried him in a grave beside the original victim. Later they would find the bullets in the pocket of the hunter’s remains.”

  “This boy wasn’t hunting. He was playing,” Cooper said.

  “He was fortunate that Hopper didn’t catch him,” Pearson said.

  “And we’d be looking for two boys instead of one,” Mick supposed.

  “Well I rarely speculate, but in the end, it probably would have led you here.” He asked, “Beyond that wood line, that is the neighbor child’s farm?”

  “Yes, the Wakeman farm. They took off for a few weeks,” Mick answered.

  “I may want to talk to that family in the future. Can I get a number?”

  Mick hesitated at first. “I suppose, but as I said: they’ll be gone for a few weeks. You may have to follow up later.”

  “I’m a patient man. I can wait.” Kolchak reached out and shook Mick’s hand. “Thank you for the tour, Sgt. Collins. To say it has been enlightening would be an understatement.”

  “You’re very welcome, Doctor. If you need anything else, please feel free to contact Chief Logan or me.”

  Pearson led the way out of the cornfield with Cooper and Kolchak just ahead. It was a silent trek but for the occasional fallen stalk crunching beneath their feet. Mick unfolded a piece of paper Kolchak slipped him as they walked and read it.

  In addition to a Forensic Psychologist, I am also a Clinical Psychologist.

  Anytime you need to talk. I am available.

  RK

  Was it that obvious? He supposed an outsider would see much more, especially one with a trained eye. He folded the slip of paper up and placed in his pocket. When they reached the front of the crime scene, everyone bade their farewells to the doctor. Then the trio headed off into town.

  8

  Logan sat with Detective Pearson behind the glass mirror that looked in on interview room one while Cooper went over to the Masonic Hall to hook up with Jeff Henderson. They would be transferring the remains of the victims to a Forensic Lab in Winnipeg where they would be undergoing a battery of tests. Due to the number of victims, they had to contract a local company to build airtight containers: a reefer trailer had been purchased specifically for this task.

  Henderson wanted to ensure that each victim was transported individually. It wasn’t just because it was SOP in forensics: it was also to respect the dead and treat them with dignity during transportation. While many consider people who work with the dead as dark or emotionless, there is a code among most who believe that they are doing the work of giving respect back to those who cannot command it.

  With Cooper off on an errand, Pearson talked openly with Logan about his impressions of Kolchak. He really didn’t want to slag the Doctor, especially in front of Coop. “He’s a bit of a dick, Dave, but if you saw him at the crime scene… Man, he knows his shit.”

  “Mick called me on the phone,” Logan responded. “I read his book. He seems to have quite a bit of insight into what makes these guys tick. I don’t care if he’s a dick as long as Hopper never walks free again.”

  They watched as the newcomer chipped away at Hopper. They had been in there for over two hours. At first, it went as expected: for the first hour, Kolchak did all the talking while Hopper sat across from him indifferently. He started with a few questions which were greeted by Hopper’s expressionless stare.

  Then Kolchak managed something none of them expected. He made his way around to Franklin – and as if he had flipped a switch, Hopper said, “You’re all going to die.”

  Kolchak leaned forward. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because he’s the devil. He could kill everyone here.” And Hopper started to shake.

  As Kolchak continued to probe, Pearson and Logan watched from behind the glass, mesmerized.

  “The devil? You mean like Satan?” Kolchak waited, then added, “Is he here with us now?”

  Hopper let out a burst of laughter then began to blubber. “You don’t understand.”

  “I want to understand, Stephen. Help me to understand.”

  “I spend day after day in that cell, waiting for him to come back! He’s going to rip me to pieces, and there’s not a thing anyone can do about it. He can be anything.” Hopper looked up into the ceiling light as if he expected to see Franklin perched there.

  “What do you mean ‘he can be anything’?” Kolchak looked in the mirror hoping that the digital video was up and running.

  “He can change shape. Oh, what’s the fucking point? You don’t believe me!”

  “Where did he come from?”

  “I don’t know! He found me.”

  “Because of the boy, the first one?”

  “I guess!” Hopper was vibrating. “I think he could smell the death, I don’t know. He said he was going to make me suffer. Now I’m so fucked. The cops, they think this is some kind of insanity defense.” Hopper turned toward the mirror and broke into hysterics. “It isn’t! Do you hear me, Logan! He’s real, and when he’s done with me he might just tear this shithole town apart!”

  “Calm down, Stephen,” Kolchak said. “I want you to take some deep breaths for me.”

  But Hopper just continued to stare into the mirror. “I know you can hear me, Logan, and I want you to remember this moment. Franklin is coming back for me, and while you might not give a shit what happens to me, you remember this. I warned you! I gave you fair warning!”

  Then Hopper fell back in his seat, crying and mumbling incoherently.

  “Stephen, I am your friend. You can talk to me, and no one can hurt you here. This place is under guard, and the day after tomorrow we will be leaving Thomasville altogether.” Kolchak got up out of his seat and walked around the table.

  “What the fuck is he doing?” Logan grumbled, getting up.

  Kolchak walked around behind Hopper and placed a hand upon his shoulder. Hopper shuddered at first and had his hands not been restrained in cuffs he might have wrapped his arms around the doctor. But instead, he leaned his head to the right and wept as Kolchak repeated, “There, there. Everything will be alright, Stephen.”

  Pearson was behind Logan as they made their way down the hall. “Dave, cool down,” he warned.

  “Bloody idiot,” Logan cussed. He shook his head as he walked. “He’s gonna get himself fucking killed.”

  The two of them stopped outside the interview room door and peered in. Logan’s hand was on the keypad, ready to punch in. But through the wire mesh, they saw Kolchak was still behind the blubbering man. He had everything under control.

  “Jesus Christ,” Logan sighed. His heart raced in his chest. “When he comes out of there I am going to tear him a new asshole.”

  9

  With
Hopper returned to his cell, they went into the main conference room to discuss the case and interview. Logan had calmed down, thanks to Pearson, and Kolchak seemed oblivious to the chaos he had caused.

  “Well, that went well.” Kolchak smiled.

  “Really? How so?” Logan asked.

  “Trust, Chief. I have established a bridge of trust with Mr. Hopper which will make an in-road to my determining his state of mind.” Kolchak smiled broadly.

  “Can I ask you a question, Doctor?”

  “Dave…” Pearson started, but Logan raised his hand and cut him off.

  “By all means,” Kolchak invited.

  “When interviewing other murderers have you always been so reckless with your own safety?” Logan’s voice was even, but it was obvious that he was angry.

  “Ah yes, it was reckless, Chief, and I know I gave you a start – but it was a gamble worth taking.” Kolchak never lowered his eyes, his confidence high.

  “Gamble worth tak…”

  He raised his hand now and stopped Logan mid-sentence. “Yes, there was a gamble to be made, and I took it. Up until now, Stephen Hopper has opened up to no one but you. Even as he went off into his tirade about the Devil and Franklin he wasn’t addressing me; he was addressing you.”

  “Yes, I know that, but –”

  “But in two days he will not have you as a confidante, and you have referred him over to Detective Pearson and myself. To be frank, Chief Logan, we couldn’t very well fly you into Artisan every time we wanted to get him to open up. I saw an opportunity to establish trust, and that is what I have done.”

  Logan stared at Kolchak, wanted to chastise him, but what would be the point?

  “Where do we go from here, Doctor,” Pearson asked.

  “Well, I would like to use some hypnosis to determine whether this Franklin is a manifestation of his mind or hallucinatory. I won’t be able to do that here. It will have to wait until we get him into a clinical atmosphere. In the meantime, I will continue with a few more interviews that aren’t as probing, but based on building rapport.”

  Logan ran his hand through his hair. “Okay, I’m fine with that, Doctor – but I do not want to see any harm come to you. So please, in the future keep your hands out of reach of the prisoner.”

  “I apologize, Chief. In the future, I’ll try not to be so hasty.”

  “I would greatly appreciate that.” Logan smiled. “What else do you require of us?”

  “I would like to stop in on the Parkins family tomorrow. Background on their son could be helpful, and I will be far more delicate. I am well versed in counseling grief so I may be able to help them a bit with a recovery plan.”

  “I’ll take you by tomorrow.”

  “I would prefer to go alone. These people have been through a lot, and the bulk of their anguish was delivered via men in uniforms. If you can point me in the right direction, I will make out just fine.”

  The comment irritated Logan – but he wasn’t exactly charmed with the prospect of visiting the Parkins household, so he didn’t argue. Besides, he had his doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning.

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes, one last thing, and I hope you are not one who is easily offended.” Kolchak looked him directly in the eye. His patronizing smile shifted slightly to his version of sincerity. “May I?”

  “Go right ahead, Doctor. I’m a police officer; I have been called everything this side of next week.”

  “From this point on I would like you to make good on your promise to Stephen. I would prefer that he not see you again. This will avoid future distraction and provide a foundation for me to start to build on. If he knows that he cannot turn to you, he will feel compelled to find a new confidant. I want to bring Detective Pearson into this so that we can get on with identifying as many of the victims as possible, but your presence will be an unhealthy distraction.” He paused and looked between both officers. “What do you think of that?”

  “That suits me fine, and no offense taken.”

  Logan got up from the conference table, and both men followed his lead. The meeting was over, and as Doctor Kolchak gathered up his files, the two policemen stepped out into the hallway.

  Halfway down, Logan said to Pearson, “You’re right: he’s a total dick.”

  Pearson laughed.

  “Ron, make sure Doctor Tightwad doesn’t get himself killed during interviews. I got enough paperwork to last me a lifetime as it is.”

  Logan glanced back down the hall to see Kolchak watching them. He didn’t know if he’d heard or not and he really didn’t care.

  10

  The next day Doctor Kolchak stepped out of the taxi as John Parkins’ neighbor watched from the window across the street. In the driveway was a pickup truck, ‘PARKINS FEED DELIVERY’ emblazoned across the side. Yep: this was the place.

  Kolchak looked up and down the street. It was deserted except for the prying eyes behind twitching curtains.

  The night before he had called Mr. Parkins and requested the visit. When he told him who he was the man had been cordial and said he would be waiting.

  As he walked up to the porch, he saw a softball sitting underneath a large shrub.

  “We used to play ball together,” Sgt. Collins had remarked.

  When Kolchak looked up, he was startled to see a large man standing silently in the doorway and wondered how long he had been watching him. When their eyes met Kolchak asked, “John Parkins?”

  “Yes,” the big man replied.

  “I’m Doctor Robert Kolchak. We spoke on the phone.”

  “Yes, I remember. Please come in.”

  ***

  Chapter 13 - Nekoneet

  1

  He was four miles into the woods north of Thomasville, where the trails and all signs of man faded into the serene silence of the forest. The trees here did not resemble those from the Spirit Woods: the spruces were weather beaten and sickly by comparison. Even so, branches poked down with demonic fingers threatening to pluck out an eye, and Blackbird had to duck his head occasionally weaving left or right.

  As he moved through the heavier brush he could hear Old Jake Toomey’s instructions in the back of his mind: “There must be an opening in the trees. Stone must protrude from the earth – the larger the better. There you will find the place to purify and make contact.”

  As he searched, Blackbird rehashed the events of his life. He understood that he could not change the past – but he tortured himself nonetheless. During the solitary moments of the last fifteen years, his mind was the only sounding board for such reflection. He could not share this with anyone. His dealings with man were often indifferent and related only to the need of the moment.

  He marched forward, one foot in front of the other, as he had always done, ignoring the blisters, the raggedness of his shoes or the fear in his heart.

  Even out here in the middle of nowhere he looked twenty years out of date. His hair, now threaded with grey, hung in a tight braid that was slung over his right shoulder. He dressed in blue jeans, both jacket and pants. Around his neck was the old medicine bag that Grandfather had given him years ago when he left Spirit Woods to go to college.

  As he pushed on, his thoughts harkened back to the first time he departed Chocktee for college.

  “Go to the big world, Young Daniel. The white squaws aren’t as sweet ours, but snare as many as you can.” Grandfather winked. Janice Blackbird slapped her father’s arm lightly and he feigned pain, but no one was fooled by the old man’s drama. He winked at Daniel again – then his face gave way to seriousness. “Gather knowledge, but remember your people are always here, and should you need a palaver the fire burns brightly in our hearts.” The old man’s eyes welled up over the smile he used to disguise his sadness and he fell quiet, succumbing to the ache in his heart. Before Blackbird could see more the ol
d man pulled him into a grandfatherly hug.

  He, too, almost broke down as they embraced. He would miss the warmth of his words, the sweet scent of burning tobacco and the love he offered so openly. As the old man held him as his cousin, Johnny Proudfoot stood there uncomfortably. There were no words necessary to express the bond they had.

  After a moment, they pulled apart and Grandfather wiped his eyes.

  Then Proudfoot stepped forward to address his cousin.

  “I found this in the Spirit Woods.” He handed over a dark black feather.

  “Thank you, Johnny.” Blackbird looked over the feather and ran his index finger down its edge. “I will keep it with me always.”

  “Remember where you came from, Dan.”

  Then Proudfoot turned and left the gathering without a goodbye. He never surrendered to his emotions: it was a trait he had developed after both his mother and father were killed by a rogue grizzly bear. He was only nine years old. Since the tragedy, he hardened himself, saving his outbursts for the solitude of the woods or the peace garden where they lay. Blackbird thought he was strong and unfeeling, but he was truly a tortured soul who kept his sentiment buried.

  “His heart is only stone on the outside, Young Daniel,” Grandfather whispered. “Your cousin loves you.”

  It was tough love, if love at all. Johnny was so serious about everything, and sometimes he could get rough.

  When Daniel and his grandfather made palaver, Johnny would watch from his sleeping bag. It was obvious that the old man loved Daniel more than anyone else in the world, and no matter how much Johnny Proudfoot tried he would never be favored.

  As adolescence gave in to young adulthood, Proudfoot took counsel from Old Jake Toomey, who taught him about being a warrior. In doing so he pledged himself to the Chocktee people and learned the lessons both Grandfather and Toomey taught.

  Early on it was determined that both cousins would run separate paths. Blackbird would leave and go to college, while Proudfoot would stay in Chocktee and develop his leadership skills. Someday he would be Chief.