by Matt Drabble
Moss trembled inside of his barrel whilst he watched the caped figure return to the car. His bowels loosened when he saw the shadow return holding several gleaming machetes.
“You know, this is an oldie, but a goodie,” the figure beamed as it stood in front of the barrel. “It was always one of my favorites and Mary’s too.”
“Trotter is that you? Because if it is, then you killed her,” Moss spoke calmly but with growing anger at his own predicament. “You killed her and I did my job.”
“Really counselor, and tell me did Arnold Trotter receive a fair trial before a jury of his peers?”
Moss didn’t trust his own face to respond without betraying his own feelings on the subject. The caped figure stank of crazy and he could not see its identity under the overhanging hood. “I can assure you that I have no direct knowledge that anything untoward occurred during the Trotter trial,” Moss said with a fair smattering of begging in his voice.
The shadow slammed one of the machetes through the barrel and the sharp blade tore a grove through Moss’ side.
“BUT I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” He screamed in panic.
“This would normally take hours of practice” the figure mused as another blade slammed through the barrel. “The trick is always to know where the blades are going to go and in what order. The assistant would have to contort herself into the correct position to avoid the swords. Kids sure do love any tricks with sharp edges.”
Moss felt the next blade gouge a lump out of his thigh and blood immediately ran down his leg. “Please,” he begged as his strength faded. “Adrian Todd runs this town, you must know that. Nothing goes on here without his say-so.”
“Ah don’t you worry, I’ll be getting to dear old Mr. Todd before too long. But right now I’ve got a lot of blades and a lot of holes to make,” the figure said with genuine enjoyment and relish.
The screams soon faded as the echoing cries made the birds rise from the tree lines high on the wind and beyond the pain and death below.
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Tommy was walking home alone. Following the picnic he had dropped Ally back at the diner for her to cash and close up. She apparently trusted her staff to run the place in her absence, but she felt the need to close the place at the end of the day.
The afternoon had passed as warmly and pleasantly as the sun that had been bearing down on them. PJ had somehow managed to stay relatively sober and Tommy thought that his new lady friend Delores had more than a little influence on that. She had seemed to monitor his alcohol intake and her large picnic hamper had contained only a few beers and mostly soft drinks. Ally had arrived from the diner carrying a huge homemade apple pie that had dwarfed all of their appetites and finished the meal perfectly.
He had been pleasingly surprised at the comfortable and easy nature that existed between them. It was all made easier due to the fact that there were buffers all round and as a foursome they clicked. The conversations had been light and breezy in keeping with the setting, and thankfully there had been no mention of the past.
He was walking up his pathway when he realised that for the first time he hadn’t privately thought of the house as only his father’s. It was a strange but not unpleasant thought to be coming home in all senses of the word.
He had placed the key in the lock when he felt eyes on him from behind. He span around quickly and stared off into the dying light of the day. He couldn’t see anyone along the empty street, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been watching. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled and stood to attention as his eyes darted back and forth. The whole evening air seemed still and unbroken and for a split second it seemed like he was truly alone on an empty planet. The spell was broken when a couple of kids swung around the corner noisily arguing in good natured barbs about their respective mothers. They looked to be below the teenage line and one was pushing a bike while the other rode a scooter around in circles. Tommy suddenly felt a genuine rush of loss mingled with affection. The two boys looked close enough in features to be brothers and Tommy felt another strong stab of regret at just how his life had turned out. It seemed that the longer he stayed in Denver Mills, the longer he felt at home and the more that he felt he had lost over the years. He turned back to his front door.
“Mr. Marsh?”
Tommy’s heart almost exploded in shock at the sudden voice and he turned back down towards the road to see Sherman Gaines standing there with a strange look across his face.
“I’m sorry, did I startle you?” The cop asked genuinely.
“What can I do for you this time Mr. Gaines?” Tommy replied, trying to recover his composure.
“I…, I need to talk to you and your friends Mr. Marsh,” Gaines replied seriously.
Tommy stared at the cop. The man’s usual icy calm demeanor seemed shaken and cracked. He seemed smaller than before and far less of a presence than he remembered.
“Can it wait?” Tommy asked irritably.
“No sir it can’t, in fact it may already be too late as it is.”
“Alright dammit” Tommy snapped. “Give me an hour I’ve got some stuff to take care of. Where shall I meet you?”
“Ms Chamber’s diner and Mr. Marsh, please hurry.”
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The retired Judge Harry Fielding tottered around his garden. The spread was the joy and bane of his life in equal measure. He was still a hale and hearty soul at 89 years of age and moved with a step that belied his age.
His home was appropriately one of the oldest buildings in Denver Mills and it was viewed with as much respect as he was. He had practiced law for almost 60 years as both attorney and judge. He was well known and liked around the small town that had housed his family tree ever since its inception. He had outlived three wives before deciding to embrace his bachelor status. As women tended to live longer lives than men he was never short of companionship at the various activities at the rest homes in town.
He knelt down carefully as he pruned a rose. Despite the evening closing in, the garden was well lit to display his efforts even at night. His hands were steady and eyes were clear. He had landscaped his grounds with a perfection that mirrored his life. His back was still straight and he could still touch his toes with minimal effort.
He strode through the rose garden and under the arbor that was covered with fragrant climbers. The cold and damp night air had yet to turn his joints to jelly and he still liked to wander his gardens at night.
He was a tall man at over six feet three and still trim with it. He maintained a rigid regiment over his diet and daily exercise and knew that his efforts had paid dividends whilst those around him fell by the wayside. He didn’t sleep much anymore but that was fine with him as it gave him more time to appreciate the time that he had left on the planet.
He was staring up and marveling at the millions of pinpricks of light in the starry night sky when he felt a presence behind him. He turned with his usual spryness but even that was too late. The air behind him crackled with electricity as the taser pressed against his neck and he collapsed to the ground unconscious before he hit the floor.
When he awoke he found himself in the familiar surroundings of his summer house at the bottom of the garden. The small wooden structure was positioned above the river that ran below his land. He would often spend his time perusing his notes and reliving his most interesting cases.
He tried to move but found that his arms were tied behind him on the comfy chair that he had placed in the summer house. He blinked rapidly and shook his head to clear the foggy haze that permeated. He looked down in shock to see that a large pink balloon had been duck taped to his chest.
“You’re awake I see” a high pitched voice that he could not quite place sang out from behind him.
He desperately tried to turn his head to see his captor but the figure stepped around in front of him. The shape was drowned in a hooded black cape and only two sparkling eyes shone out from the darkness.
; “Do you know who I am?” Fielding demanded with the tone of a man that was used to being obeyed.
“What a silly question,” his captor giggled. “Would I really go to all this trouble if I didn’t?”
All the while the judge’s active mind had been racing through his criminal case backlog. Denver Mills had little in the way of serious crime and the trials that he proceeded over were mainly mediatory in nature. But the one blood red screaming exception was Arnold Trotter. The amateur magician had decapitated his wife/assistant in a fit of jealous rage. The case had seemed airtight. The prosecution had successfully proven to him in chambers over a rather expensive bottle of brandy, that Trotter had discovered his wife’s affair with an unnamed local man. He had been happy to accept Adrian Todd’s generous offer that would supplement his pension. Once the case had been laid out before him it had seemed open and shut and there seemed no harm in ensuring what was already an ensured outcome. The prosecutor had been on the ball with the evidence and the defense had been less than challenging. The jury had been eager for justice and had taken a record short time to return with a verdict.
“What do you want from me? If this is about the Trotter trial then I have done nothing wrong,” the judge barked.
The figure withdrew a long razor sharp looking needle that glinted with menace under the dying light and the judge trembled.
“This was always to show that when love was strong enough it could pierce the heart with delicate precision,” the shadow muttered. “Mary always found it such a corny trick.”
Fielding could only sit helplessly strapped to the chair as the figure placed one hand on the balloon taped to his chest. He stared down in disbelief as the long needle pushed into the balloon and through it without bursting. He could only watch on as the metallic point began to push all the way through and out the other side above his own heart.
“Now sit very still Mr. Judge,” the shadow said through manic eyes. “I’ve never tried this particular variation before.”
Fielding began to scream powerlessly as the needle pierced his chest and the shadow bore down its own weight. A thin trail of blood started to seep through his shirt as the needle entered his body and began to be expertly navigated through his ribcage. The pain was intense and his breath caught hard in his chest as the tip reached his heart. The world around him began to fade away as his vital organ hitched and faltered as the invading object punctured a small hole.
The shadow stood back to admire its work. The judge was strapped to the chair with a balloon taped to his chest and the needle pierced all the way through and into his heart without bursting the balloon. The judge’s eyes were now glazed over and his face was already paling.
“What no applause?” The shadow asked the dead man. “Tough room,” it giggled.
12.
revelations & recriminations
They were sitting around Nan’s Diner after closing time. Tommy, Ally, PJ, and Dixon were all squeezed into a booth whilst Gaines paced around the floor nervously.
“Dammit Gaines would you just get to it already!” Dixon snapped in his usual gruff manner.
Tommy flinched as Ally flinched. Dixon had been in a worse than usual mood according to Ally’s quiet asides. Tommy could see that Dixon’s eyes were bloodshot and his nostrils were wide open. Whatever bug Dixon currently had up his ass, it seemed to involve Tommy in some way as the big man kept glaring right at him since his arrival.
“Easy Russell,” Ally said soothingly.
“Go to hell,” Dixon snarled.
This time Tommy flinched of his own accord. Since he had come back into town, it seemed like Ally was the only one that could sooth the wild beast that was her ex-husband. Dixon’s sudden turn towards her was worrying and Tommy knew that he was the cause. Petty jealousy had flared up again despite the marriage, and Tommy knew instinctively that he was at the heart of Dixon’s ire.
“Why are we here?” PJ asked timidly to no-one in particular.
“Because Mr. Gaines has something to tell us,” Ally interjected unhappily. “Apparently something of great importance to us all.”
“But we’re not all here,” PJ answered back.
“Where is Mr. McEwen?” Gaines asked. “Is he running late?”
“He’s on his way to a funeral and an exhibition. I’m not entirely sure in what order,” Tommy answered. “It was his agent that died in the car wreck and he’s heading back to help with the arrangements I think.”
“Do you have a number for him?” Gaines asked urgently.
“Not that I know of,” Tommy said before looking around the rest of the gathered group but receiving only shaking heads from Dixon and PJ in return.
“I do but Lee hates cell phones; he says that the constant intrusion affects his flow when he’s painting. He does carry one for emergencies, although he keeps it switched off unless he’s using it” Ally offered. “I’ve left him a message, but unless he switches it on he’s not going to get it.”
“Well then I’ll have to try and track him down after this,” Gaines said distractedly.
“Why are we here Gaines?” Tommy asked, quietly meeting the cop’s eyes.
“You’re here because I think that I’ve put you all in danger,” Gaines answered, dropping his gaze.
“Is it Trotter?” PJ asked the question that they all knew the answer to.
Then Gaines said the words that had terrified them all. Words that had been whispered on the wind of the cold night sky ever since the fire. Chickens were coming home to roost for all of them and it was no longer just an empty childhood nightmare. “I think that Trotter is alive and he’s coming home.”
“How do you know for sure that Trotter didn’t die in the fire?” Tommy asked anxiously.
“Bottom line is that I don’t know for sure. But in my heart and more importantly in my gut, I know it’s him.”
“It wasn’t an accidental fire was it?” Ally asked as her face paled.
“No,” Gaines said in a troubled tone. “Two orderly’s bodies have been autopsied and found to have been murdered. There was no smoke in the lungs meaning that they were dead before the fire started.”
“And you think that Trotter did it?” PJ interjected.
“Yes,” Gaines said with a face that suddenly looked every ounce of his age and then some.
“Why?” Tommy demanded, knowing that the cop was keeping something back. He had seen his own face enough times in the mirror to recognise a guilty conscience when he saw one. “What did you do Gaines?”
Gaines pulled up a chair and sat down heavily upon it. His face was creased with worry lines that looked etched in the granite stone of his weathered face.
“I went to see him about two weeks ago,” Gaines started then stopped.
“What the hell for?” Dixon snarled; his body language was aggressive and Tommy was worried that now not even Ally would be able to control him.
“Let him tell it Dixon.” Tommy spoke calmly and tried to exude the natural authority that he had once held over their group. He knew that Gaines had a tale to tell and it would not be easy for the man.
“The trial was a fix from the very start,” Gaines started again. “Everyone was either paid off or threatened I’d wager. The victim was Mary Todd after all and you all know of her father Adrian.”
“The man runs this whole damn town.” PJ moaned. “Whatever he wants he usually gets.”
“Exactly,” Gaines agreed. “I was new to the town and I soon found that my services were quickly sidelined by Chief Taylor. The whole thing felt funny from the start. And the most suspicious thing was all of you.”
Tommy dropped his gaze along with everyone else including Dixon.
“What is it that you think we did?” Dixon said challengingly.
“Ah, now therein lies the rub,” Gaines answered staring at each of them in turn. “Something was off at that party. All five of you had guilt written all over your faces but I couldn’t tell why. What convinced me further was whe
n I was dragged away and denied even the opportunity to speak to any of you. You all did something, but I was stopped from finding out just what.”
“That sounds pretty vague,” Dixon snorted.
“But that was only the beginning,” Gaines smiled sadly. “As far as I can tell, pretty much everyone involved in the trial ended up a whole lot financially better off than before it started. The problem with paying small town folk a large sum of money is that they never know just how to spend it quietly.”
“That doesn’t sound exactly like concrete evidence,” Tommy countered.
“Not enough to go after Adrian Todd that’s for sure,” Gaines answered.
“Hang on a minute,” Ally interrupted. “What has any of this got to do with Trotter?”
Tommy watched as Gaines’ face didn’t so much fall as plummet.
“When a man gets to be my age and retirement is rapidly approaching, you tend to take stock of your life,” Gaines sighed heavily. “I’ve been a cop for over 40 years. I’ve done some harm and I’d like to think that I’ve done a lot of good in that time. The Trotter trial is the one thorn that has stuck in my paw ever since I saw the man dragged off screaming his innocence. I kept track of him in prison and could never shake the nagging suspicion that I could have done more to prevent it from happening. I knew at the time the whole thing was a lock from the get-go and after what happened to him inside…”
“What did happen?” Tommy asked pointedly. He knew that Trotter had been attacked in prison and subsequently he had landed in the secure mental health unit at Blackwater Heights. He had never been able to discover just exactly had happened to Trotter.
“I always suspected that Todd was behind that as well. Being locked away for the rest of his life never did seem like an appropriate punishment for Todd’s only daughter.” Gaines answered.
Tommy couldn’t help but notice that Dixon was squirming uncomfortably.
“Trotter was taken away from general population by what must have been a corrupt guard. He was held in a basement under the prison’s laundry wing for two days before anyone noticed that he was missing. I have it on good authority that when he was finally discovered, he had gone through horrors that I wouldn’t want to even imagine. His body was ruined after having suffered the sort of torture that no man should have to endure. He was close to death and barely breathing when they found him. He had been raped multiple times by multiple objects and he’d been castrated.”