by Zac Funstein
“Certainly if you would let him in Telforda thank you.”
As Goliat entered Jason looked up in surprise, momentarily disconcerted, then quickly recovered his composure. This was clearly mid interchange with someone on another intercom.
“Cut the hyperbole,” came the disembodied person on the other end.
“Who is this?” almost breathed Chapell. “I’ve already told you that’s not what I’m interested in.”
“An old friend,” replied the even, electronically-scrambled voice on the other end of the wire. “We have a job for you-you’ll like.”
“Please I am busy. I have a client to see,” said Jason then turning off the intercom-then turning to the new entrant. “If you would excuse for a moment Mr. ….”
“Rincón.”
Chapell gets down on the carpet then begins to pray. The CEO is in the middle of asking for forgiveness must have been disturbed once again but some unknown eventuality for Jason gets up then goes over to the entrance peers both ways down into the stairwell to see nobody there then returns to his prayers.
Finally when this ablution is finished Chapell gets up picking up a golf-club which has rested nearby.
“You’ve come about the loom research I understand,” says Jason hitting the golf ball across the office axminster into a practice metal hole with articulated sides which were flattened to let the ball in.
Soon they are deep in banter about the subject under scrutiny.
“Might I ask why you made the change from the conventional shuttle looms?”
Another golf ball glides into the receptacle.
“There was a lot of minor accidents-nobody did very much-then Channing Charest a manager at a factory of ours got hit by a small rock that must have got into the mechanism which was thrown off-this seemed to be the final straw. We did some quick checking to see how much material was lost by such damage which was slightly higher than the use of air-jet.”
“You made the changeover to avoid such calamities I understand.”
“We didn’t want to give out safety gear-noise suppressors were already standard by law.The important thing is that we observed the effect on the denim in quite some depth to see if it was detrimental or not.”
“Does using an air-loom spoil the weave?”
“Not a bit of it-but it is not why we are here-what is important is that we’ve become unwittingly good at discerning if a fabric is conventionally made or by an air loom.”
At the end of the meeting a pregnant pause ensued- they were both a little uncomfortable with it. Goliat stood up then said.
"Thank you for clearing up the issue but not just that, for everything else too."
“You understand now how this couldn’t possibly be from a conventional loom-that’s good.”
With that the caller left, but not before noting the sound start up again as the ball began to bounce once again.
Today was supposed to be auspicious Desk Sergeant Octave Ruel would be promoted to lieutenant, whilst Lieutenant Somerville Deslauriers would be promoted to captain, whilst Captain Faustin Rouleau would be promoted to chief. The crowning glory was Chief Felicien Asselin who was to be mayor despite the rumours of corruption which did not seem to be easy to shake off.
Neither Talbot Lapresse nor Goliat Pina Rincón would ever get promotion but neither were concerned or even remotely disappointed. Fawning servility was not their scene they would rather be cleaning up wrong-doing in the gritty reality their profession encouraged.
The dead teenagers old school pal Telford Fortier had left a message on Rincón’s answer machine as well as an e-mail when the operator returned to his usual routine. A desire to relate something about G. Schreiber was evinced.
“What does it all mean Talbot?”
Talbot was something of a father confessor. Goliat was always asking advice it would seem. If they went to a gallery:- ‘What does that painting mean? What do those circles mean-why doesn’t it look like it is supposed to?’ Nobody seemed to know unless it was Lapresse that was consulted.
Sometimes Talbot (an impressively neat man with a kind, calming disposition and what was believed at first was an Australian accent but which later learned was South African) saw Goliat as a movie director who seemed to view himself as an auteur. As poorly written, ineptly directed, hideously acted as the film was, its biggest sin was that it was boring.
The disused schoolroom that had been provided seemed to invoke the ruling that a room shall be provided by the sheriff of each county for the use of the jury upon their retirement for deliberation, with suitable furniture, fuel, plus stationery, unless such necessaries have been already furnished that is. Rincón was dressed in a shabby tweedish jacket for this soiree with jeans that seemed a little too tight on him-as jeans on older men sometimes do. His blow dried razor-cut -if that was not a little fanciful for the swift barber-shop effort that had been given made him seem more rough-set than actually was the case-accentuating his worst features.
As always the procedure with this setting was the same: meet participant in a conventional setting, then (if necessary) a neutral outside locale, somewhere that was less reminiscent of the school which for some had negative associations. This particular ‘time out’ away from the school grounds away from teachers plus classmates seemed to work.
Rincón straightened then looked around the deserted schoolroom. Slates lay on the floor some broken. Chairs, overturned, faced every direction, like wreckage after some terrible disaster. Someone once defined a straight line as the way from school to the playground, a crooked line as the way from the playground to the school-well here must have had an invasion of crooked lines for they seemed to proliferate in the broken slates, even in the peeling paintwork too.
One of the ironies of encounters such as these was that it suggested possibilities that the agent had missed in his own childhood. Many claimed that Goliat had a precocious understanding of the verities which a young person might undergo, that there was something missing an essential ‘gap’ in his education. That was why situations such as this kept cropping up.
Telford Fortier was like so many teenagers spoke the same language, wore the same clothes-differences of gender taken into consideration naturally enough. All the boys play baseball it would seem; some goes to some crazy martial arts class, because they like karate or taekwondo. Fortier who boasted a collection of circular badges suggested one Greek word ko'smos, which signifies not only the world, but dress/ ornament too; as if our globe were nothing else but a great union/collection of all such round perfections.
After switching on the recording-machine Goliat began:
“Did you know The dead youngster very well Telford?”
Fortier reacted as if this was a lie, that with this lie the reality vanished for good. When The girl had gone so had a little of him learning too.
“I didn’t now I never will- I can’t explain the momentary stillness inside of us, or the rush of nameless emotions that followed when I heard the terrible news.”
The children watching through the frosted glass never broke away from their gaze, as if each mirroring those same sentiments coursing through them.
“You admired her from a distance-I understand.”
“We all had the same aspirations-the same intention for the rest of our lives. When Our friend died we all did a little I believe-for good.”
Upon his return Talbot seemed especially keen to know how everything had gone.
“In the past we have rarely seen knockouts but with the new rules there will likely be KO's after a few rounds," enthused excitedly Lapresse presumably referring to the relaxing of laws regarding interviewing younger informers.
“A teacher that engaged us just before leaving had an interesting snippet to share which I will pass onto your good self. According to this pedagogue, who for the sake of his career shall remain anonymous, ecstasy tablets at the college at the time owed their nickname to a piece of rhyming slang derived from the female ice-hockey defen
der Gladys Schrober.”
“Interesting-it is uncanny-do you believe there is a connection like we deemed between aggression/ literary genius, or between brilliance/ pessimism?”
“Possibly who knows.”
What seemed more important is the stalker that joined the many outside the school-gates who came from Vernon, British Columbia had been noticeable recently. There was a wide collection of weaponry all of them licensed that seemed to go with him. If there was something seedy going on in Vernon then be sure this individual was likely to be there no question. His infatuation with guns but more importantly the sense of power which it gave him, seemed to fill this loner with an intense sense of omnipotence. Law enforcement in the jurisdiction knew that this was someone who created a lot of dread, but why seemed to be unexplained. More importantly there was nothing they could do.
The print of the Schreiber report dances up/ down before Rincón, redolent of meaning. It seems to be teasing- not yet it boasts-the answer will come but not yet. There is still a little more that needs to be done.
Picture this scenario the lady-of-the-house has asked you to wait. Whilst complying with this request you play Ping-Pong with the children. You hear the balls click then realise something is wrong-the same sounds are coming from the upstairs they're playing Ping-Pong, too. The neighbor is a businessman like authority figure whose son Marcos Correia Azevedo went to school with The deceased. The father Miguel had wanted to name him Pain perhaps because the birth was laborious giving Livia Azevedo great discomfort. Mrs. Azevedo's vision of herself as half nature child, half Victorian angel of the house was rudely shattered by the attendant cries in bringing Marcos forth.
“You must pardon the delay in contacting you Mr. Rincón but I have been to Ferraz de Vasconcelos a municipality in the state of São Paulo in Brazil where it is very warm as you can picture.”
“I have been there Miguel too-though it was a while ago.”
“Baggage cleared, passport stamped. I leave the holding-pen follow the international symbols through the ‘anything to declare’ to the taxi-line- only to walk through the automatic entrances into a frosty gust of welcome.”
“I understand the contrast with your Brazilian surroundings against the coldness of Canada presaged some eventuality.”
“The lightweight raincoat chilled Ferraz de Vasconcelos was like an oven in comparison. I got the cabdriver to turn up the heat full volume, but still couldn’t get the cold out-then when I got home this hit. As if the moment couldn't turn any more unfortunate I heard that a burst tyre struck the car's fuel tank, rupturing it causing the cab to explode into shrapnel.”
There was the noise of ping-pong again then someone must have told them to stop because it did abruptly stop.
“That noise disturbs you Mr. Rincón I can tell.”
“It is not so much the noise content as the stopping. Near where I live it is common for the night cleaning workers to hear the sounds of footsteps steadily approaching them only to abruptly stop before them. On many nights, the dim halls of the historic building eerily echo with the distinct sounds of keys too.”
“Which stop as well.”
“You have the picture exactly-it is a dread of cessation.”
“When I first sought got home, it was the love of virtue, the sensation of happiness/ affection with which my whole being overflowed, that I wished to share. But upon learning of G that virtue has become to us a shadow, that happiness/ affection turned into bitter loathing despair, in what should I seek for sympathy? We were very upset as you can picture Mr. Rincón,” exclaimed Miguel. “This was a very popular child we are dealing with. Marcos was very fond of her as you can gleam. But if I may be candid for a moment.”
“Be my guest Miguel.”
“The soap-operatic adventures of the man-loving, peregrinating Ellen are at the base of all this hardship. All tragedies are an object of infinite sadness, this will remain as an inextinguishable source of bewilderment if that is not acknowledged."
Miguel peered around furtively then as if anticipating some response-perhaps it was believed they were under surveillance. A TV was turned on as per a distraction-the atmosphere was electric- both sets of fans were jovial/friendly for much of the game. The volume rises slowly, but at a steady pace, until the sound is almost deafening then it lowers again.
“Sorry haven’t got the hang of this volume controller.”
Rincón tries to encapsulate his view of Ellen.
“Such a prim thing, so staid yet controlled. Prada jackets with True Religion jeans are hardly radical.”
“That is Ellen now but you have to cast yourself to when G’s mom was younger. That is I believe when much of the difficulty started. Know thyself, ‘n thy weaknesses, the better to understand then if necessary to comprehend the weaknesses of others.”
“You are saying Ellen is weak I see.”
“Not it isn’t just that-just that we are all subject to human frailty. It was her sophomore year of high school, at the apex of what Ellen described as an implacable depression that the aforementioned decided to go really wild.”
“You seem to know her better than most Miguel.”
“If you live somewhere you get to know of their past. There is a way to be stupendously well informed without reading absolutely anything-live somewhere. An overgrown, one can only say ungainly girl, whose physical coordination was not always all that it might be if rumours are true. This became startlingly apparent following this admission - exactly a week after Ellen dropped the down-in-the dumps- bombshell this bastion became the world's first authenticator of art works through daub-printing-a story that began, curiously enough, with the very paintings I was staring at when I was told this.”
As an express went past the tracks that were adjacent to the house it was hard to explain why anyone found the clunking metaphor of the train was still charming in its repetitiveness. That had gone down surely as a soother.
“You like that reassuring sound of a ‘train in the distance’ many intentionally try to electrocute themselves along the rails, believe it or not according to local media reports, because they are convinced it can cure all kinds of diseases, from diabetes to insomnia.”
“Ignore the rail if you would. Can you tell us more Miguel.”
“Soon, through luck/talent, the ungainly lass from Boissevain a former town in Manitoba near the North Dakota border was recognising pieces from far/wide. The daubing artist's tendency to choke a good canvas with too many embellishments wasn't so much held in check by Ellen as stamped out.”
“Ellen was brutal.”
“I believe G’s mom advised them to surrender to the stupendousness of the medium get into its size rather than just daubing everywhere. Her dictatorial style was as old as the hills but it won converts. With a certain notoriety came fame with all the temptations that were thrown in her path.”
Livia Azevedo entered the fray then nicely dressed like one half of a nice older couple. They had a gift shop that had formed part of their address as Livia explained. Livia was soon in full swing. “Interacting with customers when I was in working for my parents was different than working with Miguel- in that I couldn't deceive my parents the same most other employees would. Without his wife, daughter ‘n sons working with him, it would have been very difficult for my dad to assemble a trustworthy staff.”
“Now you’re doing the same for Miguel interesting. I’m more concerned if you believe that Ellen is wild as Miguel claims.”
“Talk about déja vu for the umpteenth time. Myself, I'm a bit fed up with that mostly haunted by retrospectively realising that what made perfect sense at the time was actually stupendously wrong not just Ellen but for all of us. There was this wild-thing called Valentina self-obsessed; about the size of a lanky baseball-geek with a stupendous figure who was wilder than G’s mom or any of us put together. There was a costume party held in Vienna’s stupendous City Hall, the Rathaus where we’d gone on our hols-Valentina was outrageous. Why they always
pick on Ellen I don’t know.”
Livia produced one those ultra-compact USB adapters recalled because they could electrocute people that was on a key ring then inserted it into a computer.
“I know exactly what your reaction is Mr.Rincón. The taser gun is legal and is often being used to electrocute ‘suspects’-why bother when you can get these practically for nothing. No matter I have some photographic images of Ellen when analogous to her daughters age they make for interesting viewing I believe you’ll agree. There were some glitches at first but happily, the technology is now doing its job, collecting data methodically with some sensitivity.”
They watched these for a while then a bell rang in the house which after begging their leave Livia Azevedo turned towards this source with a running gait.
Miguel who was left said.
“One of the children I expect, It's a form of exquisite torture watching George/ Martha torment each other, why occasionally this even becomes tiresome.”
Rincón turned again to the monitor.
“The dials are simple/ quite basic, giving away much without any flim-flam. That figure in the photo standing next to Ellen seems a little like Thiago Gomes Castro I am sure you’ll agree.”
Using brightly depicted, almost grotesque distortion of an individual's salient features, Thiago targeted the English royal family, politicians, society figures, exquisites, even charlatans. These impersonations were very much newsworthy even now despite the hiatus.
“Yes, they do rather-I hadn’t considered that even. I don’t suppose Thiago went to Ellen’s establishment-that’s preposterous-but it’s true they do seem similar.”
E
On first appearances, the parking lot seemed normal. Just like you find anymore of more or less the same dimension. They had passed ‘English’ houses on the journey here, which seemed reasonable enough, all with Kia Spectra cars parked in the driveways.