by M J Preston
He smashed his fist against the porcelain and let out a tortured cry.
“Enough,” Grandfather scolded him. “You cannot undo the past.”
So, he pushed away from the anger and self-hate, let it ebb away. He leaned back against the tiles, feeling the water wash over him, and he instead focused on Toomey and the others. By now they would be catching a connecting flight in Vancouver.
He grabbed a tiny bar of soap, rolled it in a face cloth to scrub away the grit and dirt from his trek in the woods.
Focus on the vision, he thought. Make that the source of your obsession. “eed delv,” he said aloud, hoping that hearing the words might bring recognition. “What does it mean? It makes no sense.”
“There is a lesson here,” Grandfather had said. “There is always a lesson.”
There were pieces to the puzzle which had not yet been set in place, and as a result, each lesson on its own did not make sense. Logan was part of it. ‘eed delv’ was another, and there was something else to consider. Tomorrow was September 23, the autumn equinox. Toomey had not said that it played a role in this, but he could only guess that it did, and by coincidence, Skin seemed adamant to finish its business with him by then once and for all.
“eed delv,” he said once more and turned the shower knob off. Using his hands, he wrung water from his long grey hair and examined his naked body in the vanity mirror again.
“eed delv,” the stranger in the mirror said.
9
A gathering of reporters were cordoned off in the eastern corner of the Brandon Airport, just close enough to snap a picture or shoot video of Hopper’s departure. Logan had arranged everything with the local police and airport security. Hours had gone into planning this moment, and it could only last at most a minute. West and Larson liaised with the Brandon city police, who set up the cordon. West took control and coordinated with the senior officer.
All communication, except for convoy radio chatter, was done by cell phone for security reasons. Along with the media issue, there were numerous threats on Hopper’s life, so it wasn’t just about keeping reporters at bay.
West dialed into the lead car and Mick answered the phone. “Go ahead.”
“We’re secure here, Sarge. What’s your ETA?” he asked.
“We are about ten minutes away. Have the main door open, and the departure room ready for our arrival,” Mick ordered.
“Copy that.”
“See you in ten, Westy.”
West snapped the cell phone shut as he waved for Oddball and the two Brandon cops he was with. The three of them came over with Oddball leading. He said, “How long, Westy?”
“They’re ten minutes out. When they get on scene, they are going to be coming in from the west end of the lot. The lead car will stop twenty feet past the door, then the Navigator will fall in beside the lead car. All officers will dismount and take up security positions around the prisoner car. That’s when I need the main door open and you gentlemen to be waiting to take custody of Hopper.”
“How long will the transfer take?” the bigger cop asked.
West said confidently, “Detectives Cooper and Pearson will do a sweep of the plane and touch base with the Captain and crew to go over protocol. It should be no more than thirty minutes, but likely less than that. At any rate, be ready for a quick rate of transfer. I would like your eyes roaming for any potential issues, and the prisoner is to be kept on a tight leash. Get him to sit in the assigned room. Once we get the all clear, Detectives Pearson and Cooper will take custody and board the plane.” He was well-versed on his duties.
The convoy rolled in eight minutes later, and it went off as planned. Oddball and the two city cops took custody of Hopper and settled him in a waiting room while Pearson handed over the keys of the Navigator to Mick, who agreed to turn it into the rental agency.
“Mick, it has been a privilege working with you and Dave. If you are ever in the city, I would love to show you around or just have a drink.” He shook his hand.
Mick smiled back. “Thanks, Ron, Coop, same goes here. Anyhow, you guys have your work cut out for you, so I will let you get at it.”
Pearson and Cooper headed through the departure gate and across the tarmac to do their sweep as the plane sat idle on the tarmac. Simultaneously Corporal Steel escorted Doctor Kolchak up to Collins.
“What do we do now?” Kolchak asked.
“Well, Doctor, once the sweep is done and we get the thumbs up, you will follow the Detectives onboard and be on your way. In the meantime, you can enter the departure gate and hook up with Corporal West,” Collins said, and he pointed in the gate’s direction.
“Okay then. I will await your orders.” Kolchak grabbed his bag and laptop and walked toward the rally point without looking back. “Good day, Officer Steel.”
“Good day, Doctor,” Steel replied.
Mick was on the phone. “Westy, I got Kolchak coming your way.”
“Copy that, Sarge. I see him.”
Mick looked everything over then gave the keys for the Navigator to Constable Hardy to take back to the rental agency. Ten minutes, later, Pearson and Cooper exited the Dash 8 and gave the thumbs up that they were ready to take Hopper on board. The two city officers escorted Hopper across the tarmac and to the stairwell. There Pearson and Cooper took over getting him up the stairs. The National news caught a glimpse of him in his orange jumpsuit being led onto the plane in cuffs, but no more. Once they were onboard, West escorted Kolchak to the stairwell and up into the waiting craft. A second later he came back down and was on his way back to the terminal.
Mick watched from the observation window as the ground crew pulled the stairwell away and began prepping the craft for departure. The props started turning then wound up, filling the small airport with a burr of high-intensity noise as Mick’s officers fell in beside him. All felt the same mix of emotion. These officers were like a family. A family who had just worked through a crisis – and though they were not out of the woods, there was a sense that the storm was passing now that Hopper was leaving Thomasville.
“Good riddance,” Steel said just under his breath.
“You said it, Don,” West added.
“Fucking eh.” Oddball spat.
Mick nodded. “Let’s mount up.”
10
“Denise,” Logan said over the phone. “It’s Dave.”
“Hi, Dave,” his ex-wife said. “The kids aren’t here right now.”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you. Have you got time?”
“I was just going to grab some groceries, but I have a few minutes.”
Logan looked up toward the ceiling. He inhaled. “Okay, well, I need to sit down with you about something, and I was wondering if I could buy you lunch. I could come into the city this weekend maybe?”
“Dave? Is this serious?” She sounded uneasy.
“Yeah, but I need to talk to you about it face to face.” She would, of course, try to prod him for more information – but he didn’t want that over the phone.
“What’s going on, Dave? Is it about that case? Your face is all over the news.”
“I really don’t want to go into it over the phone, Denise. Could we meet in the city at the pub on 4th street?” Logan tried to keep his voice calm and level. He didn’t want to fight with her – especially not now.
“The pub’s gone, Dave. The recession pushed them under this year. Oh my God, this is serious! Are you ill?” Her voice rose.
“Okay, well then we can go to Kelsey’s, or Boston Pizza,” he cut her off. “I need to sit down with you and discuss some things, but I need to talk alone. Please don’t say anything to Jamie and Howard until we’ve had a chance to talk. Please, Denny, do this for me.”
A moment of silence passed.
She knew Dave was serious because he hadn’t called her Denny since they
separated.
“Okay,” she surrendered. “Boston, noon Saturday. The one on Paramount Drive.” “How are the kids?” Logan asked.
“Howard’s looking at his college options for next year. He’s going to graduate with honors. Jaimie is doing okay in school, but she’s seventeen and driving me around the bend. She can be a little bitch sometimes.” She laughed, but the strain was poorly masked.
“You were seventeen when we met,” he reminded her.
“Yeah, and look where it got us, Dave,” she snapped. Then, apologetically: “I just want more for them; I don’t want to see them struggle like we did. You know?”
“Yeah. I know.” He smiled a little, remembering what a firecracker she used to be. That seemed like a thousand fights and a hundred years ago. There was still a part of him that loved her, or what she once was. “You still seeing that school teacher, Brent?”
“Bruce? No,” she sighed. “We broke up when he decided he was gay.”
“Jesus Christ.” Now he laughed. It was a good feeling: like unscrewing a valve and relieving some of the pressure that had been building since his biopsy results came back. “Okay, Denny, I’ll buy you lunch on Saturday at noon.”
“Uh, okay.” The awkwardness came back to her voice. “Bye, Dave. See you on Saturday.”
“See you Saturday.”
He set the phone down and stared at it a moment. This was going to be tough, and Denise wouldn’t be much help. She was a bundle of nerves and a bit of a drama queen when it came to stressful issues. How she would keep her head when he laid this on her was beyond him. He needed her, though: the kids were their permanent bond, and he needed her to be their mother when he broke the news.
The light on his phone lit up, and he answered it. “What is it, Sabrina?”
“I’ve got two calls, Chief. First is from Sgt. Collins and the second is from a Mr. Blackbird,” she said.
Logan almost laughed. “Put Mick through, and I’ll pick up the second call in a minute, or take his number, and I’ll call him back.”
“Okay, Chief.”
The phone clicked over, and Logan waited a second. “Mick?”
“We’re all done on this end, Dave. The plane has just left the ground,” Mick said.
“Any problems?” Logan asked.
“No; everything went smooth as silk. As a footnote, Westy handled himself like a real pro. He took complete control of the airport, excellent oversight.” Mick and Logan had discussed West as a possible replacement for when Mick left, and this was another evaluation of his leadership skills.
“Good deal. Okay, come back to base and let’s get our reports filed by day’s end.”
“Copy that.”
“Mick, have you got time for a beer after work?”
“Sure. Are we talking about a choir practice?”
“No, we’ll do that later in the week. I just need a sit down with you.”
“Yeah, sure. I should be wrapped up around five. Kennedy has volunteered to be duty officer tonight, so I think we should be able to put this together.”
“Good enough.”
11
Blackbird was sitting on his bed in the hotel room with the phone stuck against his ear, waiting for the call to go through. He still didn’t know how or what he was going to say, but he had to get the cop to listen.
Then a voice on the other end of the phone broke through the silence: “Chief Logan. Hello?”
Blackbird tried to place it with the pictures he’d seen in the paper and the man from his vision.
“Hello, Chief Logan. My name is Dan Blackbird.”
“Good day, Mr. Blackbird. How can I help you?”
“I was wondering if we could meet and talk about the situation you have here in Thomasville.”
“Mr. Blackbird, if you’re a reporter I can direct you to my communications officer, Sgt. Collins. I am not doing interviews.” He moved to hang up.
“I am not a reporter, Chief Logan.”
“Then what would be your interest in the case?”
Blackbird fell silent, trying to think of what he could say next.
“Hello, are you still there?”
“I have information on the case that you don’t have yet. I would really like to sit down with you and discuss this.”
“You’re not a reporter?”
“No, sir, I am not.”
“What kind of information?”
“I’d rather not say over the phone.”
“Look, I have a hectic schedule and while I appreciate that you might have some information I would urge you to come into the station for an interview with one of our officers.”
“I know who his accomplice is.”
“What?”
“He had an accomplice, Chief. I know who he is, but I need to sit down with you and discuss this, and I’d prefer to do it in a neutral setting.”
Logan was suddenly pissed. Somebody leaked! A God damned leak!
“Look, Mr. Blackbird, I don’t know where you came by your information, but we don’t have any other suspects in this case. Stephen Hopper acted alone.”
For a moment Blackbird was silent. Then he took a gamble: “Franklin.”
That caught his attention. “What did you say?”
“He calls himself Franklin.”
Logan leaned forward in his chair and grabbed a pencil and a post note. “Where would you like to meet?”
“I was going to get a late lunch at the diner in town. Angela’s?” Blackbird looked down at his watch. It was 2:25 PM. “I could be there in about twenty minutes.”
“Okay, Mr. Blackbird, I’ll meet you there. Can you give me a description of yourself so that I will know who you are when I get there?”
“I know who you are, Chief. When you come in, I will wave you over.”
“Alright. See you in twenty minutes.”
Blackbird hung up the phone and called his new chauffeur, Bobby Morneau.
12
Mick was sitting shotgun next to Hardy, who was driving back into town. His cell phone rang, and he flipped it open to see it was coming from the base. “Collins.”
“Mick, it’s Dave. What’s your ETA back into town?”
“Thirty minutes, what’s up?”
“Hardy is driving you, right?” Logan said.
“Yeah. What’s going on?”
“I want you to have her jump in with one of the other cars and make your way over to Angela’s Diner.” Logan was thumping the pencil eraser off the desk, something he often did when he was trying to formulate a plan. “Once you’ve done that call me back on my cell.”
“Okay.”
Mick had no idea what was going on, but he trusted that it would not be long before he found out. He grabbed the handset and started giving orders. The convoy of police vehicles pulled over, and Mick got out and orders. He tried to be as casual as possible, not wanting to ring any alarms just yet.
He assigned Steel as duty officer and then jumped into the one unmarked car Thomasville Police had. It was a Chevy Impala that looked exactly like a police car without all the bells and whistles.
As he punched the accelerator, he pulled out his cell phone and called Logan back while the car climbed up in speed. Angela’s Diner was on the west end of town.
“What’s going on, Dave?”
Logan was getting into his cruiser now.
“I’m not sure yet. I just talked to a guy on the phone who wants to meet. He says he knows who Franklin is.”
“You think we have a leak in the department?” Mick asked.
“That or something else.”
“Like what? Wait a minute, Dave, you don’t think Franklin is real, do you?”
Mick’s heart began to race. He picked up the pace pushing the car to go faster.
“Well either this guy has credible information, or I’m going to meet Franklin. At any rate, I want you to meet me at Angela’s, but come in incognito and set up behind me in case something goes sour.”
Mick shut his cell phone and placed it in his breast pocket. He had a couple issues to deal with now. First, he would have to park a block away from Angela’s. The second of course was how to enter a diner where everyone knew him in his police uniform without drawing any attention. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and punched the accelerator to the floor.
***
Chapter 15 - More Rituals and Intersections
1
Angela’s Diner wasn’t busy. On weekdays the lunch crowd was smaller, so only a few patrons populated the restaurant when Blackbird arrived. Bobby had dropped him off, and when he entered the place, everyone simultaneously stopped and looked. “Never seen an Injun before?” he almost said, but it wasn’t that. He was an outsider. Outsiders stood out, especially in places like this where residents congregated.
He sat in a booth, sliding the knapsack in beside him, waiting for the Police Chief to arrive. He expected that his last words had rung a few alarm bells. He had no idea why the creature used the name Franklin, but he had picked it up during his previous encounters with the creature. He threw the dice that the child killer Hopper might have used, and apparently it paid off.
There was only one doorway to the diner and Blackbird made sure to face it so that he could wave the Chief down when he entered. I’m probably going to end up in the clink, he mused, but there was really nothing else he could do. The Police Chief played a part in this, so he had to try.
The big burly cop walked past the window, giving him a look, and it was suddenly apparent there would be no reason to wave him over. Logan walked in, nodded to the waitress, and headed straight to the booth Blackbird occupied.
He started to get up, and Logan motioned for him not to, so he settled back in the oversized booth and let the big cop take the lead. “You’re Mr. Blackbird?”