by Don Dewey
Dave moved his head to look straight at Gerard. “No lie, partner. Truth?”
“Oh yes, this is a true story, my friend. And a long one, so let’s get you as comfortable as we can.” He fluffed Dave’s pillows and eased his back into a better position. When Dave nodded to indicate he was as comfortable as he was going to get, Gerard went on.
“Gheret was the first of, well, not many, but of a new kind of human. Let me start with some more recent history, back when you and I first partnered up, and talk through some things.”
Chapter 2
A New Old Enemy
Detective Gerard Goyette remembered Karl Schmidt’s death. He recalled it vividly and with conflicting emotions. He regretted not being the one to pull the trigger, but he was grateful Karl was dead. Everyone in his line of work had at least felt some relief at that particular death. Schmidt had been a ruthless man, although high class and seemingly unconnected with much that his organization had done during his years leading it. That same organization had been responsible for killing someone Gerard had been close to, and he had sworn revenge, and justice. Long ago he would have just sought revenge. Now it was truly justice as well. That was over twelve years ago. While Karl had been killed, Gerard decided someone else should still pay. He studied, he interviewed, he researched, and above all he remembered. He spent much of his work time and all of his own time developing the case, and finally had a lead that could bring out the truth. Very recent changes to this old case had come up, but Gerard was still going to find out who was directly responsible. They would pay.
Now, twelve years after Karl’s death, Gerard waited patiently in the alley. Ninety minutes later Donnie the Dodger, his target, finally showed. Once having lived in the western US, and later the south, Gerard could lay on an accent as thick as fleas on a dog (pronounced “own a doog.”) Yet he could set that aside as quickly and speak fluently and with an educated edge that would stand up against any university professor. He was a great cop and an accomplished linguist. Stepping out in front of Donnie he used his accent. “Doanie? Ah’ve sum queastions fer yew.”
Donnie’s first response was to pull out a switchblade and pop it open. “Back it up, man, or I’ll cut you real bad.”
The detective stepped closer and Donnie raised his knife hand, brandishing the blade like a sword. Gerard expected he would take this foolish action, and caught his arm above the elbow, bending it back before Donnie could use the blade. He removed the switchblade from the young man’s hand and let him go. He flipped the knife once to gauge its weight and threw it at an old, sagging board fence twenty feet away, where it pierced through to its hilt. “Jest a toy.” He smiled at Donnie.
“You delivert the message what killed Jenny Helvicki, Doanie boy.”
With a complete change in accent and tone he continued with a grimly serious demeanor. “I need to know who you delivered it to, and now.” Gerard grabbed Donnie’s jacket lapels and lifted him far enough off the ground so his grasping toes couldn’t quite touch the ground with his sneakers. Gerard’s fingers wrapped tightly in Donnie’s leather jacket, constricting his chest.
“This ain’t right, man! You can’t do this, I got rights, I know my rights, you let me…” The rest was cut off as Gerard jerked Donnie back to ground fast and hard and lifted his right knee suddenly and forcefully into Donnie’s crotch. Donnie gasped and his eyes glazed for a minute, but he shut up.
“Don’t speak until you’re ready to give me a name, got that? Just nod.” Donnie nodded. “If you ever want to have kids, you’d better tell me soon, because I get weary of this game very quickly. Got a name yet?” He snarled as he brought his knee back, ready to use it again. Again Donnie nodded in the affirmative.
He caught his breath and Gerard jerked him into the air again, hard and fast, holding him there. “Who?”
“DeHaan. I gave it to Mr. DeHaan. He’s a big man in the Schmidt organization. You don’t wanna mess with him! You gonna let me go now?”
“Sure Donnie.” Gerard slammed him back to his feet so hard his teeth clicked together. He released Donnie’s jacket and smoothed out his lapels with one hand, while the other suddenly had a long, well-used knife in it. “Not a word to Mr. DeHaan, right? You understand me, don’t you Donnie?”
With eyes as big as saucers, Donnie nodded. “Absolutely, I won’t say nothin’.”
“If you do,” Gerard said softly, moving his knife in a vertical motion for emphasis, “I’ll slice you open from your neck to your groin, and you can try to hold your guts in while you die. I know, it’s illegal and morally reprehensible, but if you talk, you will die. That’s not a threat. It’s a promise. The illegality of it won’t matter to you will it, once you’re dead?”
Donnie was wide-eyed with a mix of terror and a tiny bit of bravado still lurking under the surface. “You wouldn’t.”
This lanky man with a mane of loose, black hair framing his face shook his head to flip the hair from his eyes and smiled. “It’s been awhile, but I’ve done it before, boy.”
Donnie turned and ran from the alley like a cat with its tail on fire. Gerard’s feral smile would have shown anyone watching that he enjoyed the discomfort of this fairly minor player in a very nasty game.
***
Gerard went back to his precinct and settled in at his small metal desk across from his partner, Detective Dave Lacy. They’d been partners a long time, but Gerard thought he’d worked this so quietly that Dave had no idea he was on a vendetta against Jenny’s killer.
“What’s shakin’ Ger’? New case?”
“No, just parts of an old one I keep picking at from time to time – bones from yesterday’s trout. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not worried, but I do think I should know what my partner’s working on, don’t you?”
Gerard sighed, and decided he ought to tell Dave about it. “What is pertinent is that an old case, the murder of Jenny Helvicki, has been a burr under my saddle for a long time, and I just got a pretty good lead.”
“All right, let’s hear it.”
With another sigh, Gerard started talking. “The Schmidt organization was responsible for the hit. I know that in my heart. I’ve worked through the details on this case too many times. It had to be them. Too many details lead straight back to that organization.”
“Whoa now. They’re a bad bunch, but let’s not be leapin’ off any cliffs, eh?”
“I know, but they did it. Now I have info that tells me who received the address where we had her hidden. Whoever got it would have known the safe house location, and is responsible for the murder of that girl and two cops.”
“So, you got a name?”
“Mr. DeHaan, who works for the Schmidt organization. I came back to the office to track him down and find out what I can about how he fits in.”
“Ok. Let me make a couple of calls to Vice and see what they’ve got. Since you’re keeping this quiet, I assume you haven’t done that.” Dave spoke with enough lilt in his voice to make it a question.
“No, and I’m not real sure I want to do it now either.”
“They don’t have to know specifics. I’ll just get what info they’re willing to give. It might not help much.”
Gerard fixed him with a stare. “Ok. Be careful.”
Gerard started his research online, which was so much faster than researching had once been. Dave started working the phones. A little checking and a few phone calls later, six hours had passed. Nothing was easy, and nothing good seemed to happen with any real speed.
“Lots of dirt on Schmidt, but nothing that’ll stick, so nobody’s pursued it in the courts. That ol’ boy’s been dead for over a decade. You know that, right? And yeah, this Jenny Helvicki case seems to rest right on that organization, but again, it’s all Teflon coated.”
“I’m aware that Karl Schmidt was dead, but the organization still exists.”
“Whoa there, Sport. What do you mean by, ‘was dead’?”
“I have it on good
authority that Karl walked back into his headquarters last week and took control. He was dead, but it doesn’t seem that he is now.”
“Then he wasn’t dead, Gerard. C’mon, don’t go spooky on me now. If he was dead, he is dead. I understand it’s a pretty permanent thing.”
“Okay then, he seemed to have been dead.” He stretched out the word seemed. “Better with that?”
“Some, So who’s the lead you’ve got?”
Gerard seemed anxious to leave that line of questioning behind and move on. “Mr. Jack DeHaan is technically an accountant for them, but it doesn’t look like he actually attended a college or trade school for accounting. I know that isn’t too conclusive, but I suspect he does something else entirely for them.”
“Why don’t we go ask this DeHaan character a few questions, and see where he falls in all this crapola?” Dave stood to get his hat, an Indiana Jones kind of hat that would have fit in nicely in the early 1930s.
“Thanks, partner. Let’s do that. I'll talk with DeHaan, and you run down anything else we have on Schmidt. We can compare notes tomorrow.”
“Don’t think so Gerard. We’re going together. Let’s go see Mr. DeHaan.”
***
Shifting back to the present, in the hospital room, Gerard locked eyes with Dave. “But we never did go see him together, did we Dave?”
“No. Funny thing about that. You kept distracting me, and we never got to it.”
Chapter 3
More Info
Dave was whispering. “I know all that. Most of it anyways.”
“I know my friend, but you’ll see it all differently as I go along. Have patience and let me explain some things. You need to know about some other people too. Some of the people in this story are pretty old.”
Dave’s whisper was hoarse. “Old is okay. I’m getting there too.”
“But not old like they are. All right, there’s this man named Gheret. He’s the oldest man alive I think. It’s hard to say, because people this old hide it from everyone.”
Dave’s eyebrows went up.
“Well, it's impossible to hide completely, but they’re quite good at it. They all look like they’re thirty something, or even younger. But they’re far older. Gheret was born back when people were more savage than today, and could barely speak to each other. As most people gauge time, Gheret is ancient.” Seeing Dave’s raised eyebrow again, he continued. “The world isn’t as old as you might think, Dave. Be that as it may, he’s pretty old. He’s lived many lifetimes, in many identities. He’s skipped through some periods of time, because that’s also a talent these Pures have. They can kind of suspend themselves, and revive many years later, still young in body.” He’d stopped for a large coffee on his way in and now caught Dave’s eyes focused on it. “You know I’d share this with you if you could have any yet.”
Gerard settled back in and took most of the day giving a synopsis of what Karl had shared with the reporter he had kidnapped. He spoke of Maximus Palamos from ancient Rome, a soldier and later a philosopher, still alive and fighting.
Mary Parker, now called Ruby, condemned to death at the Salem witch trials; not hung, not dead, and certainly older than her 1692 identity would indicate.
Robert Dunning, the son of one of the most powerful and evil men to ever live. He despised his father and what he stood for, making a life with his partner Maximus Palamos.
Geronimo, an Apache, one of Gerard’s own people, reported to be unkillable in the old west, and still alive an cheating death.
He spoke of Karl Schmidt, which caught Dave’s full attention. He was evil incarnate, seeking nothing with his vast wealth and experience but his own gain.
From there Gerard kept talking with more current information, and some people whom Karl either had not known, or of whom he had simply not spoken.
“So, this Gheret had kids, and their stories are interesting too.” He began weaving what seemed a legend, a fantasy that was beyond belief – yet from fourteen years experience Dave knew Gerard had never lied to him, so he listened to him weave this wild tale.
Main characters:
Achar, the son of Gheret’s second life.
An’Kahar, the Pure surviving son of Gheret.
Annu’e, Gheret’s wife of the Inuit people and mother to Achar, Luntar and An’Kahar.
Elihas, son of Ohma and Geronimo.
Ger’on Goyette, Chicago detective.
Gheret, the oldest known Pure.
Goyahkla, later known as Geronimo, a full blooded Apache war leader.
Karl Schmidt, also William.
Kenneth, a well known reporter and abductee.
Luntar, the middle son of Gheret, killed by his brother An’Kahar.
Mary Parker, also Ruby.
Maximus Palamos, a Roman soldier, then a pupil of Mu’dar, then “Uncle Max” to Robert, and also his partner.
Mu’dar, the teacher who accepted Maximus as a student and had a great influence on him.
Ohma, Geronimo’s wife in Chicago.
Robert Dunning, later identify of the aforementioned Duke Robert.
Robert Duval, son of William, later Duke of Normandy.
Ruby, a Pure woman: the first we meet.
William the Bastard, Duke of Normandy, King of England.