by Jackson, Gil
‘Paranormal.’
‘... And the like with you and your partner; and assuming you’re not a rocketing nut zone, the conclusion of which gave me not many nights of uninterrupted sleep and refreshment you’ll be happy to know, these past weeks....’
‘Thanks—’
‘... You’re welcome. Inclines me to the view that we have a serious break down in either communications within our own organisation; or, we have others working against us and with us at one and the same time; or working against us and not with us; or working against you and whatever you were involved within your shabby and distant past life; for ends that are either; of a nature that no-one knows but wants to know more; or, of a nature that someone knows and is not willing to divulge to others; or, a whole heap of people know but are not willing to tell anyone else; or, Christ, something is to happen that is so earth-shattering that no one cares anyway. Now, see the problem that a lowly director of the FBI has to try and run with when he’s being pulled in more directions than a compass; and likely be sacked by Uncle John, for being too smart. Now, I’ve been candid with you agent Charlie O’Hare, you show me that damn report that’s so bloody secret it can never see the light of day because people might think you’re an idiot. Because from where I’m sitting until you do that, YOU ARE — apart from what I’ve said about you — EXACTLY THAT!!!’
PART TWO
CHAPTER 16 – 1950
Charlie made his second visit to the private hospital in three days. This time to see David Weinberg.
David couldn’t comprehend the events of so long ago that happened to Charlie and his father; Charlie’s own life being saved by the un-born son of his partner. He thought long and hard about that one.
‘The only answer I can give you is that you must have had some kind of a recall. The building that you were in was Spannocs’s. He must have been there, somewhere, in the walls, something, must have played out a kind of film or recording: I don’t know ...’ He struggled to give David a better kind of reassurance but couldn’t.
‘But it was all so real, ghosts and devils and things going through walls, trying to protect a young girl ... wasn’t it? Is that what happened to you and my father?’
‘Yes. Though I do believe she’s an Earthbound entity and the two of them have been at each other’s throats ever since. And I think ... I think ... that there’s another in the equation: somewhere. The floating diminutive in black. And for the academic sake of a name for the little rapscallion, I call him the Resurrectionist-Come-For-Her-Soul, so he is. And Satan, for want of a better description: seeing an opportunity to get one over on the divine Doorman for kicking him out of the club of ecstatic eternity at the dawn of time has got his horny little fingers a-meddling and is trying to end his place at His right hand. Along comes Man and the desire to find a reason for His and his relationship is too much for some to wait for their passing over; is too compelling; they want a short cut. And that shaving off of a corner of life and the ultimate mystery is Frederick Spannocs cum Marco Giuseppe and Man will have fallen into the trap that will see his certain demise.’
David listened with incredulity at this simplicity of faith. What Charlie and his father had personally witnessed; what he had known of events of child abduction by Frederik Spannocs and his explanation was so clear-cut surely that was all that it amounted too: Charlie had taken his hypothesis to heights approaching either spiritual or an enlightenment of lunacy that not only affected his own faith but that of his own.
‘And you believe that?’
He shrugged his shoulders.
David could not properly account for his own position; he was sure he could not criticise Charlie for his, if he could he was unlikely to improve upon Charlie’s interpretation.
‘OK. Let’s suppose you’re not a million miles away. And, assuming that, others, shall we say, on a similar wavelength; have been keeping tabs on you and my father’s findings, activities, and anyone else that was around at the time, including your Marco Giuseppi — in whatever form you wish to paint him — is that likely?’
‘Anything’s possible.’
‘And the Government, our own enforcement agencies, have that section; has a separate organisation for the purpose you’ve described, are you saying that is possible? Do you believe that is what is happening?’
Charlie said nothing, just stared at him.
‘That they’re trying to find something for reasons scientific? Lomax? Georgos? Paul? Colsson? All in on it?’
He hesitated. ‘Could be any of them, all of them, I don’t know. Don’t think Lomax.’
‘And they would have the answer to the meaning of life and what’s on the other side. I wish you’d told me all this before I started getting involved in this investigation. He started to cough again. Charlie filled his glass with some fruit juice and sat it down for him. What could he say that could make things plausible?
‘What you saw or didn’t see I couldn’t say, how could I? but all I will say is that you were subjected to some pretty nasty chemicals in that gas. There’s always the possibility you hallucinated.’
‘Well if that was an hallucination of an actual event that happened twenty-odd years ago, it was pretty damn clever, and please, introduce me to whomever pulled off a stunt like that because, for my life: his agent I’d like to be.’
‘Well, the only other explanation that I can come up with is that your father must have mentioned it to your mother when you were younger and you’ve recalled it, like I said, that gas ... talking of which what did the doctor say?’
‘Only that my lungs are burnt and likely to cause me some problems for a while, but given time they reckon I’ll make a complete recovery, that’s all. Ty Colsson’s gone!’
Charlie swallowed hard. ‘Has he, back to Mexico I suppose. Did you get that photograph by the way?’
David leant over and opened his bedside cabinet drawer and took out his camera, opened the back, took out the film and passed it to him, snapped the camera shut before putting it back into the drawer and closing it.
‘I’ll get it processed.’
‘You were about to say, Charlie, that gas could have brought on an hallucigenic reaction. My father hadn’t enough to knock him out, unlike you; perhaps it was he that was hallucinating. That would explain it wouldn’t it?’
‘That doesn’t account for my having a broken neck and likely dead, which would have required one hell of a drug; we would have required an injection; we certainly didn’t have that happen to us.’
David thought what he had seen, searching his brain for some missing item that had been overlooked and might throw into doubt without denigrating Charlie’s interpretation of events. Something, on the lines — and anything that Charlie could be let off the hook with, an: Of course, you’re right, why didn’t we think of that, so that’s how it was done, with mirrors! But he could not.
An illusion would of course be the practical explanation, assuming, and he briefly took on board and as quickly ignored the fact that they themselves had been perpetuating an elaborate hoax between them. What value there could be in that after, all these years, he couldn’t imagine, which could leave only magic? A gigantic conjuring trick to put them off guard and for Marco Giuseppi to exit from the stage of criminality and pop-up somewhere else years later as Frederic Spannocs. A magnificent illusion, brilliantly executed and one which his father, and Charlie O’Hare, had fallen victim.
Charlie was sceptical and at the same time open to David’s rationale of events; and with it, doubt. Doubt in him. Doubt in Frank. Could it be that what they had always regarded as irrefutable first hand evidence of a paranormal phenomenon had turned into nothing more than a sleight of hand? He was more than ever convinced that Frank had been right to keep that particular turn of events under wraps, if the reaction to it from his own son was anything to go by and he with the benefit of modern-day thinking that there would be an explanation for anything and that anything was possible. Unlike in their day. What on earth
would others have thought? For sure they would have been kicked off the force. He for the first time in years had doubts and began to wonder if it was an elaborate charade: that they had been duped. Any allusions that he might have about mentioning his relationship with ‘Lucy’ were firmly made up. He felt stupid for giving her a name. But again, she might be a figment of his imagination. But. And.
Except....
... Not David’s, aha! And for sure there would not have been a chance that Frank would have mentioned what they had seen to Sarah. Her orthodoxy was far too embedded for such fanciful tales to be listened to from her own husband.
David hadn’t wanted to admit that, even to himself, but he was going to have to get used to the idea. CIA flashed helicopters sprang to mind. At least until he could prove otherwise. He could not accept that it could be the likes of Lomax that would be behind such a plot.
‘How’s mother?’
He looked at Charlie and knew what he meant. His face said it all. He cared for her, he could see that, and wondered if she would ever want to see Charlie again after his near demise in Mexico. ‘She’ll come round, Charlie, I’m sure of it.’
‘She’s had a lot to put up with, so she has. I wouldn’t blame her if she never had anything to do with me
again ...’
‘Well I’ve told her, I’m not going to let you and my father’s work go without someone being accountable, and I know that after all you and he did someone’s still profiting from his activities – and no, Charlie, I don’t believe Spannocs is your Marco Giuseppe – in business for reasons other than kosher.’
Charlie could see the determination in his eyes.
‘Charlie! Forget Giuseppe. He’s clouding the issue. It’s Spannocs that’s our new enemy here. He’s still alive.’
* * *
David felt bad hurting Charlie’s feelings but this was the modern world; myths and legends were not part of it. He had a job to do and he could not allow bogymen to get in the way of it. It didn’t alter the facts, he told Charlie: that they might have been the subjects of subterfuge, but Marco Giuseppi was still a child abuser of mega proportions. He himself had been allowed promotion to Vice because of his father’s sacrifice to the Bureau and his dedication to upholding its principles, Charlie O’Hare had been part of that. The photograph of his father and Charlie on his desk standing together with J. Edgar Hoover gave credence to the respect the Bureau had for both men, and for that, he would remain a proud son to his father’s memory and perpetuate that memory through Charlie and put their report down to something on the lines in light of new evidence. Marco Giuseppi was a career paedophile, but a mortal plain and simple; and as suggested, likely, but not definitely dead. If he wasn’t someone was carrying on his filthy trade which could be Frederick Spannocs. If anyone was to stop him in his inquiries to get to the bottom the man that would have to tell him not to continue would be Hoover, not Lomax, not Charlie nor Harry S. Truman himself. As to what he saw? A play. Played out with actors to enhance Spannocs’ powers against what he imagined would be an unbalancing act against an investigator getting too close and using a rather crude and compliant, Ty Colsson.
* * *
Charlie thought what Sarah had said to him. That it had all gone on long enough, David had a wife of his own now, if he was to go on the same track that they had gone on he could lose his life the same way that his father had. Why did he think that mere policemen could stop a criminal that clearly had influence in high places? She had told him time and again to leave it but being the pig-headed Irishman that he was: ‘You’ve a degree in you think you know better, so you have!’ He hadn’t laughed. Neither did she.
She said to him. ‘And David!’
His name echoed in his head and knew she meant business.
‘It’s time you called a halt to all this revenge business with my husband, I want it stopped, get our son out of all this before it’s too late, or you and me are going to have to go our separate ways.’
* * *
David rounded on Charlie. ‘What turn the other cheek? We did that in 1939 and look where it got us. Not even your precious pope Pius XII would speak out for us and they canonised him for his silence. You’re doing the same.’
‘It’s not the same, David. I’m fighting shadows. You’ve seen. You were powerless then, you will be again. And if you’re going to drag religion into it might I remind you of what your people are doing to the Palestinians. Doing not unto others that you would not have done to you. Isn’t that the words of your great Rabbi Hillel?’
He should have known better than to argue religion with him. Charlie stamped his authority with a sharp nod of his head.
Still he was probably right. He had to admit to himself that if hadn’t been for Ty Colsson he wouldn’t have got out of Mexico alive; so if Ty Colsson wasn’t kosher someone else didn’t want him dead. But ghosts aside those armed helicopters were definitely out to finish someone — not there for the benefit of wood wasps. Ty Colsson had been convinced that they were government men, although he couldn’t prove it, word from a reliable source was they weren’t theirs and they weren’t FBI but they acted for his country, or someone, concluding the familiar right hand ignoring the left syndrome.
‘Do you think such an outfit exists, Charlie?’
He rubbed the niggle in his chest. ‘We don’t know everything but I’m convinced that someone is.’
‘Why?’
Charlie would no more mention ‘Lucy’ to David than he had to Lomax, to both that would be stretching things a bit too far. He buried his head in his hands and started to massage his temple, gently at first, scratched the itch he had created. He looked up, shook his head, a look of resignation was in his eyes. He was exhausted, and it was clearly showing that it had all been an ordeal too far. And David himself wondered how he was to shoulder such a burden and not let it get to him; and more importantly undermine his own faith. He had to keep a clear mind if he was to get at the man that was a career professional in the world of child abuse and not what Charlie thought he might be. Charlie had screwed it up, it was up to him, and he was to do it without his help.
‘Where do I go from here? For, I don’t think in all reality that either me, or you, are in the right league for taking the establishment on, do you, Charlie?’
Charlie took a deep breath and gathered all the strength he had for what he was to say.
‘You are absolutely right and where you go from here is out of it. You have become a marked man from whatever crack-pot organisation has been created by whomever, for whatever; I think for all concerned you’ve best drop any further investigations into Frederick Spannocs.’
‘The hell I will ... he could still be a child abductor! And I am a federal lawman.’
‘To hell you’ll go if you don’t and that’s where you’ll have to follow him to end this with no guarantees of a return.’
‘He’s only a man! You talk as if you believe he’s something else!’
‘I’m convinced that he’s Marco Giuseppe and I don’t think I’m the only one. For if he is, he’s as near as you can fooking well get to old horny fingers as a man on Earth can get as makes no difference, so he is. Take the lesson you learnt in Mexico, if he doesn’t get to you, and none of this is wishful thinking, those that’re protecting him sure as God will.’
‘Has my mother spoken to you?’
‘I think more of you as friend than being influenced by others. I care for your mother, that’s all, there’s no other reason for my getting you to keep away from all of this. You’ll go nowhere with any of it. It’s far too dangerous; I should never have got you involved in the first place. Please, David, if not for me, your wife and any future family. I wouldn’t want to see her go through what your mother has gone through without your father. And yes, it troubles me that if anything was to happen to you I don’t think that your mother would be able to cope anymore.’
David looked at him intently. Charlie had a point. It was more a question of re
venge than seeing the man brought to book. He had been lucky to have got away with it once, he might not be so a second time. If Charlie was right, and he had no reason to think otherwise now, they would get him sooner rather than later.
‘Tell me you’ll give it some thought, David. Take my advice don’t bury your life in evil, there is a good world out there, find it, grasp it, enjoy it. It ‘ain’t long if you go the full term.’
‘All right, Charlie, I’ll do as you say, Ruth has been complaining that I should get into the office and a nine to five routine ...’
‘You’ll drop it?’
David nodded. ‘It’ll probably blow itself apart without any help in the end anyway, conspiracies usually do.’
‘Good.’
‘Just make sure that you do as well, Charlie.’
‘Oh ... I’ve made up my mind – I’m retiring. I’ve had more than my fill, so I have.’
Charlie was smiling.
‘What’ll you do?’
‘Me! I’ve got me books, me malt, I’ll concentrate on retiring disgracefully, don’t you worry. It’s time I started to get older.’
Charlie got up from the chair by the bed and looked through the internal window of the hospital room that David was in. Sarah was outside with Ruth. Beside them, another straining to see in the window, a future son, and Charlie shivered to himself.
‘You’ve got company. Take care and I’ll see you soon.’
They shook hands as his family came in. Charlie nodded and attempted a smile at the two women and took his leave.
‘Sarah. Ruth.’
‘Did you tell him, Charlie? That Ty Colsson was murdered and that he was best out of all this....’ Sarah said in passing.
PART TWO
CHAPTER 17 – 1950
The attorney nodded at Charlie and left the room. Charlie looked at the flat document, laid between them on the desk as pristine as the day they had locked it away 24 years ago. Franklin Lomax not quite sure of what to expect picked it up, hesitantly at first, looked to Charlie for permission to continue. The other nodded. Lomax turned it over in his hand reverently, but did not know why. He turned it over looking first at the back, and the front. He studied the wax seal and string spread across its enveloped flap, making out the inked words that had been scratched hard into the vellum-like surface by pen and ink — reinforcing its authenticity — and read: [First Sealed this 3rd day of July in the Year of our Lord 1916. Jonathon Macconey, Attorney-at-Law in the State of New York, USA.]. He made a closer inspection of the words through a glass that the attorney had left with him — to make sure.