by J. T. Lewis
Waiting ten minutes, he started the car and slowly angled the old blue Bel Air to get back on the road. Traveling the quarter mile toward the driveway, he turned in and made his way slowly toward the house.
Coming up on the grassy yard surrounding the farm, the same cardinal also caught his attention as it again flitted off of the grotto. He crossed himself at the sight of the Virgin Mother, then found a shady spot under a tree to park his car.
Exiting the car, he picked up the two roses off of the front seat that he cut this morning from his garden. Crossing the driveway, he noticed that the day was already getting hot, a high humidity ninety degree day had been predicted and it seemed to be racing to get there. Putting the rose stems under his arm, he removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow and the brim. By the time he was replacing the wide-brimmed hat upon his head; Roberta Gracen had spotted him and was out the front door to greet him.
“Brother Jim! What a nice surprise!”
She rushed toward him as he held out his hand in greeting. Taking his hand, “It’s so nice to see you again!”
“I’m just stopping by to check on you and yours, to see if there was anything you needed.”
“We’re fine now, thanks to neighbors and friends like you! Do come in; I just made some Dutch Apple Pie.”
Following her in, she said, “Please sit,” indicating the wingback chair; she knew it was his favorite.
“I’ll just be a minute; I haven’t even cut it yet. Would you like some cold milk, as usual?”
Nodding his head, she smiled as she left the room, returning a few minutes later with a large piece of pie and a tall glass of milk on a tray. Setting it on the table in front of him, she took a seat on the couch with a grin.
“This has been a busy day; I’ve already had two other visitors today.”
“Really, who pray tell would have come out even earlier than I to visit on this fine day?”
“Just some people from the Prosecutor’s office, they were asking some more questions on Loren’s accident. It seems as though some records were lost when their other investigator, Frank Luther died. Did you know Frank, Brother Jim?”
“I believe we met, once,” the man said with a smile, pleased that he didn’t have to lie.
“Who were these investigators, if I may ask?”
“Gabriel Celtic was his name; her name was…oh…I’m terrible with names. She gave me a card…what did I do with that?”
Thinking for a moment, she brightened as she said, “I remember, I laid it on the counter, just a minute.”
She sprung up off the couch and walked quickly down the hall.
“Gabriella Tran,” the man heard from the hall before she returned, entering the room again with a smile, holding the card in her hand.
“A really nice girl, it says here she is a crime scene photographer, huh. She did spend a lot of time looking at the family pictures in here.”
The man made a mental note of her name, determining to find out more about his opponent’s protégé from his various sources.
“I would have thought that settled months ago,” the man stated as he took a bite of the pie, the thick filling giving his mouth an explosion of flavor.
“They said they were just doing a follow-up; they asked a couple of questions, and then went out to the barn to look around. They took the old drill with them, and asked if I knew where the water had come from on the floor that night. That was about it.”
The man puzzled over the information for a few moments; the fact that Gabriel Celtic had taken the drill probably indicated that he had found the alterations that he had made to it.
“No matter”’ he thought to himself. There was no conceivable way they could tie that to him. His admiration of his opponent, however, had just been etched up a notch, “A very worthy opponent indeed!”
The man made small talk for the next hour or so, taking a sack full of fresh vegetables back with him for his troubles. On the long drive back, the man pondered his next moves. Mr. Celtic adding a partner complicated things a bit, not that this was a big problem for the man, only that it would require a more complicated ‘final solution’.
He chastised himself for letting his mind get ahead of the game; there would be plenty of time for that later. First, he needed a little more background on Miss Tran, see if there was a kink in her armor that could be utilized to his advantage.
A smile crossed his lips once more as he worked out the details in his mind. Lord help him, he loved his job! He said a silent prayer of thanks as the old car made its way back to Allenville. The fruits and vegetables aside, doing the Lord’s work was its own reward, and he reveled in his mission. He would have to do penitence when he returned to his quarters, but he decided to enjoy the feeling until then.
After all, hadn’t he been chosen for this?
Chapter 44
August 27, 1998
We drove straight to the office; Abby said she wanted to get started on the files, and I probably owed Allen a meet. Abby had been nearly giddy on the drive back, ready to delve into the investigation of her first case.
She went directly to the sheriff’s record room as I continued on into the courthouse and the Prosecutor’s office. Entering the suite, Ellen looked up from her desk with a smile.
“I must say, it’s good seeing you back here on a regular basis again,” just a hint of the old snideness back in her eyes once more. “I feel so needed, having someone else to care for,” she said with a hint of sarcasm as she held up an envelope with my name on the outside.
“Where’d you get this?” I asked as I looked over the crumpled yellowed paper of the envelope. There was no address on it, not even addressed to this office, just my name written in a sprawling script.
“It was on my desk this morning when I got here. Asking around, I finally found out from the bailiff that he had put it there early this morning. He said he gotten it from the night janitor as he was leaving, said he found it on the employee entrance stoop when he had unlocked the door this morning.”
Thinking of the last mysterious note I had received, I retrieved some latex gloves and put them on before trying to open it. Using Ellen’s letter opener, I carefully slit the envelope, pulling out the thick yellowed paper from within. Unfolding the paper, the scrip inside was more of the rambling kind as on the envelope, rather large, readable but not perfect, like someone had written it in a hurry.
After actually reading the letter, I wasn’t sure the exact message I was supposed to get out of it, but it didn’t sound good.
‘Frank would be proud, but be careful what you wish for!’
Proverbs 1:32
My best guess on the first part was that he had the same outcome planned for me as Frank received. I guess we’ll have to see about that, but I was no bible scholar; the verse listed meant nothing to me.
“Ellen, we have a bible in here?” I asked as I studied the note further.
“You can probably find one in one of the courtrooms; I would imagine at least one of them is open this time of day.”
I found an evidence bag and inserted the note and envelope into it, sealing it and marking the date, time and my name upon it. Nodding to Ellen absentmindedly, I took off out of the office.
I found a bailiff out in the hall, and asked him about an open courtroom.
“Judge Ester didn’t come in this morning; his courtroom is empty.”
Thanking him, I pushed through the doors and found a bible on the bailiff’s desk, King James Version I noted. Damn, I could never understand stuff in that version. Opening it to Proverbs, I found the chapter and verse I was looking for.
‘For the turning away of the simple shall slay them; and the prosperity of fools shall destroy them.’
I reread it a couple of times before taking out my notebook and copying the verse down. What did this have to do with Frank; he was neither simple, nor a fool?
I was getting ready to head back to the office, when I decided to visit Abby in
the records room instead. Maybe she could make out what the message meant.
Crossing the courtyard, I went down the stairs after entering the sheriff’s building, taking a left at the bottom of the stairs. Entering the dimly lit room, I saw Abby tapping away on a computer, making a few keystrokes, and then writing something down in a notebook. She looked up worriedly as I approached, a smile spreading across her face when she realized it was me.
“Gabe! Look at this,” she was brimming with excitement. Moving to her side, she held up the notebook for me to see.
“How did you get access to the sheriff’s computer?”
She got a conspiratorial look on her face, her face a little flushed if my eyes weren’t deceiving me.
Leaning forward, almost whispering, “George Williams runs the records area; he’s kind of sweet on me, poor fellow. I just…talked him into it, although I have to go out to dinner with him…sometime.”
My seemingly ever resourceful partner was proving useful in so many ways, and I gave her a smile of approval.
“Tell you what, I’ll pay.”
She giggled at that, then directed me to the notebook beside her.
“There were ten calls to the Gracen residence in the four years preceding Mr. Gracen’s death. All of them were involving physical abuse, mostly on Mrs. Gracen, but once on his dad also. None of them would press charges; so Loren Gracen was never arrested.”
She was beaming, waiting for my response.
“Looks like you were right kid,” I said with enthusiasm, “way to go!”
“I’m not done either!”
She quickly flipped the page on the notebook.
“I also did some looking into the Johnstone’s. Seems there was a domestic disturbance call three months ago at their residence; a neighbor called it in because of all of the yelling. Mrs. Johnstone was throwing Mr. Johnstone’s stuff out of the upstairs window, yelling at him every time she threw something. Mr. Johnstone was in the yard, yelling back; I guess it was quite a scene.”
“Was Bill arrested?” I asked.
“No, he was not; the cops went and tried to calm everyone down. Mrs. Johnstone kept screaming about him having an affair. When they couldn’t calm down the couple, they called in their priest. I guess after he arrived, they calmed down enough for the cops to leave. Nothing else comes up on the family until the ‘accident’ a few days ago.”
Two murdered men, both found doing something wrong, neither arrested, but both punished, the ultimate punishment.
“Wow.”
It was all I could think to say.
“I know!” Abby said with enthusiasm, pleased with herself.
Could this really be the why of our investigation, punishment for their sins?
“Who would do something like this?”
Abby got thoughtful, coming down off of her high a little, “I don’t know.”
We were both quiet for a few minutes, thinking about the strange turn of events, before I remembered the note. Pulling it out, I laid out it in front of Abby.
“This was waiting on me when I got to the office; what do you make of it?”
Abby took her time reading, her mouth silently moving as she read along.
“Definitely threatening you with the same fate as Frank, did you look up the bible verse?”
I took out my notebook and showed her the passage.
“It’s King James. I’m not sure if I understand it totally; we may need to get an expert to look at it.”
“I think you’re right, turning away from what? Maybe if we read what was before and after it would make more sense.”
Quiet again, she suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree.
“I know who may be able to help! Mike Naples, from our office! He goes to church every week, and I think he carries a bible with him too.”
I had met him once, but didn’t know him at all.
“Not that I’m saying anything bad about him Abby, but remember that there is a leak somewhere; we have to be careful who we let in on the investigation.”
Thoughtful again, she sat there, quietly thinking.
Finally she looked up at me, “Do you have a bible at home?”
I nodded, thoughts of my wife flooding my mind. She was a good practicing Catholic, and had more than one bible in the house.
“A couple of different versions I believe.”
“When we leave here, we’ll get one there and see if we can decode the message. I need to get some of the other accident victim’s names anyway, so I can do a more extensive search.”
It sounded like a sound plan, but there was one more thing I needed to do. “We need to go someplace first; have you ever met Percy Vogel?”
Chapter 45
August 27, 1998
As we entered the lab from the bright day, it almost seemed we were walking into a completely dark room. Forced to stop in our tracks, our eyes eventually adjusted to the light level so that we made out the little pools of light dispersed throughout the lab, overhead lights that were focused one per table. Adding to the glow were lights also inside the tables, with controls installed to allow Percy the option of up light, down light, or both.
“Wow,” my young friend murmured, awestruck.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I finally notice the little white coat hovering around the room as if it were a ghost floating through space.
“Holy crap,” Abby exclaimed, “what is that?”
Finally, she made out the form of the small balding man that filled the white coat, his black pants and shoes making his legs seem to disappear in the low light. A small giggle escaped from her when she realized just what it was that she was looking at.
Looking to me with a shy smile, “That had me going for a minute.”
Percy pulled up at a table that was lit from below only, making his image appear even more ghostly with the shadows, his round metal glasses reflecting the light like two small TV screens.
Not wanting to interfere, we waited a few moments, but were soon greeted by, “Well hello, can I help you, help you?”
“Percy, it’s Gabe Celtic, got a minute?”
Percy seemed perplexed as he squinted across the room. Finally rounding the table he approached, looking up at me with a questioning appraisal.
“Well, so it is, so it is,” holding out his hand in greeting. “You had me confused for a moment; your face is so gaunt, and the long hair, but your blue eyes would give you away any day.”
I smiled and grabbed his hand, “Good to see you Percy; how is your mom?”
“Cantankerous, a little more each year,” he said with a smile, “but it’s to be expected at her age, her age.”
Percy had always repeated certain of his phrases, no one knew why, but everybody accepted it. It was the one oddity of this brilliant man.
“Percy, this is Gabriella Tran, my new…unofficial partner.”
“Abby, this is the famous Percy Vogel.”
Abby put on her best grin, shaking his hand with enthusiasm, “Very nice to meet you Mr. Vogel!”
Percy took her hand while looking up at her face. He seemed enamored with her face, taking an almost uncomfortable amount of time staring at it before speaking again. Seeming to realize his faux pas, he quickly apologized.
“Forgive an old man’s intrusion into your space my dear, but you have a very unusual face, I am enamored by your bone structure, bone structure.”
Giggling at the unusual compliment, Abby characteristically took it in stride. “You can stare at my face anytime, Percy.”
Smiling at that, he then got down to business. “I assume you are interested in the note that you sent down here the other day, Gabriel.”
“Indeed I am,” I told him, “as well as this.”
I pulled the evidence bag out containing the second note. Taking it, he glanced over it with an “hmmm,” before setting it down on the nearest table to make his mark, continuing the chain of evidence.
“Hopefully, this will tell me m
ore than the last note did; I assume you believe this to be from the same person?”
I was a little let down by his first statement, hoping that he had found something.
“Definitely, this one is bigger; more writing on it, thought maybe you could do some of that magic handwriting analysis on it.”
“It most definitely could be considered magic; much of it is making assumptions. But it is based on good solid scientific principles; so it can, at times, be very helpful, helpful.”
His analysis of the handwriting in a code book had helped to crack my last case open (The Ghost Murders (1)), revealing that we were looking for a woman accomplice in the string of murders.
“So, you found nothing on the original note?”
“A few smudged prints, the ink is basic black, the scrawling scrip seemed as if the perpetrator was rushed; so no good clues there. This note, however, seems much more definitive; hopefully we will find great things from this one, this one.”
“Thanks Percy,” a little despair seeping into my voice, “we’ll be back in a day or two.”
Starting to leave the room, Percy called after me.
“Gabriel, could I have a moment before you go…alone?”
I was confused, but not greatly concerned as I told Abby I would meet her outside. Walking over to my short statured friend, I say, “What’s up?”
“Forgive my nosiness Gabriel, but I was just wondering… how well do you know Miss Tran…Abby?”
“Just met her about a week ago, at the Lima airport actually, on my way back here, why?”
Percy was quiet for a moment, weighing information in his head, seeming to be conflicted.
“Is she from around here?”
“I believe she is from Vietnam, Percy…what’s going on it that head of yours?”
He seems to make a decision, “Nothing really, but she has a very interesting face, anthropologically speaking that is. So, you never knew her before you met her in Peru?”
His questions were getting maddening, “No Percy, now you have been skirting around something for awhile now, spit it out! What’s with all of these questions?”