by Leona Fox
Usually, when the two of them met, Andy swept Ellen up in his arms and embraced her warmly, showering her with kisses as a display of the affection they held for each other. They always joked they had wasted too much time dancing around the issue and that they needed to make up for it. Yet today, Andy barely grunted at her as she arrived. Then he turned and walked back into the darkness of the house, leaving the door hanging open for her to follow.
It was around eight thirty in the morning and the sun was already bright, yet you would not have known it from stepping into Andy's house. The curtains still were drawn, blocking out the sun. The bottle of whiskey stood on the table. Next to it was a bowl with dregs of cereal and milk at the bottom. Ellen walked through and shook her head, wondering how things could have degraded so quickly. But she only ever had known Andy after he had repaired his life and started again in East Pender. She had no idea what it was like when he was in the clutches of depression, although now she was forming an idea as she saw him sink into it before her eyes. Taking it upon herself to prevent him from drowning too much, she tidied the kitchen and drew back all the curtains on the bottom floor, allowing the golden sunlight to stream in.
Andy had retreated to his office and she soon found him there, hunched over the letters that had been strewn over the desk and the floor. He wore a robe, which was open at the waist. A white T-shirt was clad around his torso and baggy, striped pajama bottoms covered his legs. His feet were bare. His robe flowed behind him as he moved from the desk to the floor, peering at the letters one by one, as though looking at them would reveal a vital clue that would unlock the writer’s identity. Ellen stood in the doorway, a pitying look on her face as she realized the burden of loving someone.
“Andy,” she said, although he didn't seem to hear her at first.
She moved into the room, her feet pressing into the soft carpet. She leaned against the desk. Andy scurried about the floor like a rodent, and Ellen had to repeat his name.
“It's all my fault. All mine. I should have reacted sooner. I shouldn't have kept these to myself. They were a warning. I should have seen it. I thought it was just a prank, some sick joke, and eventually it would go away but it never goes away. I was a fool to think it would and now that poor boy is suffering because of me. And his mother...she blames me, too. I can see it in her eyes. I made a mistake again. I made a mistake last time and I thought I was better. I thought I had become better but I haven't. I'm still the same man. Everything is the same and history is repeating itself. But there has to be something in these letters. There has to be, some clue, something. I just have to look harder. Have to get in them, get inside them,” he said.
Then he fell into an incoherent babble as he bounded around the letters like an animal. Eventually giving into frustration, he grabbed the letters and flung them into the air. Then he brought his knees into his chest and sat in the middle of the floor with chaos all around him.
“Andy, it's not your fault. You can't blame yourself for this. Sure, maybe you shouldn't have kept these letters a secret but that's not why Scott was taken. Whomever is doing this, they're the ones responsible. We just have to stop them, that's all.”
“There is no stopping, don't you see that? This has happened once before and it is happening again. It will repeat itself throughout the rest of time and what am I to do about it? I can't defeat him. He keeps coming back. Taunting me. Somehow I knew...all these years I knew he still was out there and that one day he would come and find me again. I would suffer, and someone else would suffer because of me, someone innocent.”
“Andy, please, let me help,” Ellen said desperately as she fell to the floor beside him and tried wrapping him up in her love, but he was afraid and traumatized.
He pulled away from her and ran to the desk, back to the other letters, and began searching through them again, muttering and mumbling to himself that there had to be some clue. Ellen looked around fretfully, wishing she knew what to do. Never had she been with anyone who had acted like this. She barely could believe this was the same man with whom she had fallen in love. He seemed so different, so...broken, and there didn't seem to be anything she could do. She tried talking to him, tried gathering up the letters and getting through to him rationally but his mind seemed closed to any reasonable thought. He even escaped the room and went through the other rooms pulling the curtains again, casting them in darkness, claiming he was watching. Then he ran back into the office and continued poring through the letters. All this spanned about an hour. Ellen was growing worried because if they didn't make an appearance at the search site people would start thinking something was wrong. She quickly pulled out her phone and sent Kelly a text message.
'Andy and I are dealing with something. May not make it to the site until later. Everything is fine, just let people know we'll join them later,' she typed. She soon got a reply from Kelly, who told her Andrea was a wreck but, other than that, the search was continuing. Then, there was a knock on the door. Ellen looked surprised, and worried, for she didn't want anyone in the town to see Andy like this. They had to think of him as the strong, confident leader or else they would begin losing hope in the search, and that wouldn't do any of them any good. She was about to open the door when Andy rushed past her and flung it open himself.
“I don't know how, but he's back,” Andy said to the person at the door.
Ellen craned her neck to look past him but couldn't see beyond his broad frame. He soon moved back into the house though, and revealed his surprise guest to be a petite woman with gray hair tied back into a tight bun. She wore prim clothes and had narrow glasses that perched at the top of the bridge of her nose. She followed Andy to the office and brushed past Ellen without making any greeting, which instantly put Ellen in a defensive mood. She strode behind them and coughed.
“Excuse me, but who are you?” Ellen said. The woman turned around and looked Ellen up and down.
“My name is May Smith. I was Andy's therapist after the last case. I'm here to help,” she said, then glanced down at the array of papers around the office, “and I can see I'm needed.” She spun on her heels and listened to what Andy had to say.
“He's back. I don't know how but he's back. After all these years. I got these letters and I tried to believe they were just a prank but yesterday a little boy was taken and it's all happening again,” he said, then hung his head in shame. May looked at him, then turned to Ellen.
“Fetch me a glass of water, dear,” she said.
Ellen complied, sensing that it was for Andy's benefit. When Ellen returned she saw May placing a few pills into Andy's mouth.
“What are you doing?” Ellen asked worriedly.
“I'm helping Andy get back to his best. I did it before and I can do it again,” she said, handing Andy the water and watching him gulp it down eagerly.
She closed her bag and shot a glance at Ellen. “He'll be drowsy for a little while, come and sit down. I think it's best we have a chat.”
She walked through the house as though it were her own. Ellen followed and the two of them took a seat in the lounge. May sighed heavily and Ellen waited expectantly.
“I take it you're the woman in his life?” May said.
“I am,” Ellen replied.
“That's good. It's good he found someone. After Louise and everything that happened I wasn't sure if he ever would find anyone again.”
“What is all this about? I know the past was traumatic for him but he never told me he had a counselor. I thought he just survived by coming here and getting away from the city.”
“And who do you think suggested he take this post in the first place?” May said with an arched eyebrow. Ellen sat back and listened to what the counselor had to say.
“Now then, I don't know how much detail he's told you about what happened but I think it's best we be frank for the sake of Andy and this missing child.”
“I agree.”
“Years ago Andy was a detective in the city, as you're aware. O
ne day the department began receiving letters, written in much the same manner as the ones he has received recently. Whomever wrote the letters claimed he had kidnapped a child and would hold him and prove the police did not have any power. Sadly, he got away with the crime and Andy blamed himself.”
“And now Andy thinks it's the same person. Do you think it could be him?” Ellen said, her voice trembling with fear at the thought that such a monster could have returned from the past. To her relief, May shook her head emphatically.
“No, that man was arrested a few years down the line. He's rotting in a prison somewhere, and yes, I checked quickly when Andy called me last night. More than that, the writing isn't exactly the same. They're similar enough but these letters, they have a different tone to them. I don't blame Andy for being mistaken though, especially with his state of mind at the moment.”
“Do you think you can help him?”
“I did so once before. I'm sure I can again, although I think you'll be more help than me. He'll be okay in a little bit, though. He needs some rest, that's the most important thing.”
“Good luck with that, he's not going to want to sleep until he catches whoever did this. And I don't think I'm going to be that much help. He's barely acknowledging my existence at the moment.”
“But you won't give up on him, that's the important thing. Louise, she saw the path that Andy was going down and it was too intense for her. She didn't have the strength to support him and be there for him. She wanted things to be easy, but it never is when you love someone. She let Andy go and turned her back on him. He was in a bad way, of course, and I don't say this to pass judgment on her, but he needs someone to stay by his side.”
“I'm not going anywhere,” Ellen said through gritted teeth.
“This pleases me. I'm glad he came here, I can see it's done a world of good for him.”
“Until now.”
“Yes, well, like all things, this too shall pass and once we catch the person responsible it will do Andy a world of good.”
“You think we can catch them then?”
“I have every faith in Andy's ability. He was close before you know? If things had gone a little differently he would have saved that boy, but such is life. In our sessions I tried imparting to Andy that the world is chaotic and that he did not have control of all things, especially not other people's actions. Yet he never quite could come to terms with the fact that it was not his fault.”
“I know what you mean,” Ellen said, finding common ground with May.
She now saw that May's initial brusqueness was due to her concern for Andy rather than anything condescending toward Ellen. The two of them continued talking about Andy for a while. Ellen updated May on his time in East Pender while May shared some stories about his time in the city police force. They both shared a deep affection for the man.
While they talked about Andy and tried to think of ways to get him back to his fighting best, the people of East Pender were combing the woods for Scott without much success. In a hidden part of town Scott looked around his surroundings with wide eyes. His hands were bound behind his back and he was tied to a wooden beam. The floor had a layer of dust and dirt around it, and this had transferred to his torn red top. The temperature was uncomfortable and his throat was parched.
“How are you feeling Scott?” A crisp voice said in a clipped accent.
“I-I'm o-okay,” Scott said, trying to stop his voice from trembling.
“Good. You know, I do not want any harm to come to you. This is all for a greater purpose. It is just a necessary process. It's funny, really. I admire curiosity in people. It's the way I always used to be when I was younger. 'Why?' is the greatest question we can ask ourselves. That's where all the great thinkers began their process. ‘Why am I here?’ ‘What have I been put on this Earth to do?’ Sadly, there is no answer to the question, especially not when you're shown there is no order to the world. Why am I here? Why are you here? There is no reason to any of it. We are only here because of our relation to other people. The things that happen to us are a consequence of the actions that we and our fellow men take. You are here because of something that happened a long, long time ago. But do not worry, you will not be harmed,” he said.
Scott didn't say anything in reply, he simply rested against the thick pole and hoped a hero would come save him. Meanwhile, the mysterious man moved to another room and, with a thin smile, began sharpening a knife as he thought about the future and how his plan was coming to fruition.
Chapter 6
The skies were gloomy in the big city some years ago. Heavy clouds hung over the skyscrapers and occasionally let fly a burst of rain that swept over the streets and drenched everyone. Detective Andy was sitting in his office, poring over letters, trying to figure out the mystery that had plagued him and the city for a few weeks. It all started with one letter, just one, which was no different than any of the other prank letters they often received. Then it all had turned into a nightmare. A boy had been taken, and letters had been sent to taunt the police. Of course the press had got a hold of them and printed them, showcasing the police department’s failure to catch this vile person. Now the whole city was railing against the police, and Andy specifically.
The pressure was getting to him. He hadn't slept in days, living off of a diet of coffee, soda, the occasional whiskey, and energy pills, along with some pizza, donuts, and whatever else he could scrounge from the office. Already his superiors had made it clear this case was a PR nightmare and he had to get it solved quickly. He didn't care about that though, he only cared about the child. Louise was hurting, he knew that, and he wished he could have been home with her to be a normal family, a normal husband. Yet how could he rest when he knew that somewhere out there a little boy had been kidnapped and was being held as part of some game? There hadn't even been a ransom demand. Whomever this man was, he seemed to want a challenge, to goad the police into a battle of wits. So far, the police were losing.
Rich, the chief of police, had urged Andy to go see some therapist but he brushed it off. There was no time. Any moment he wasted was one more moment the boy was in danger. Sami Gudjonssen was his name. Andy repeated that name over and over and over again. There had to have been something he was missing, something that would unlock all of this. He couldn't be beaten, because it would mean the loss of Sami's life. At first the kidnapper addressed the police as one homogeneous mass, but as soon as the press leaked Andy's name (Andy knew he would hold a grudge against the press for that until the day he died) the kidnapper had made it personal. Even though Andy didn't want to fall into the trap of playing the kidnapper at his own game it was difficult not to do so. Somehow, in the recesses of his mind, he knew he was slipping, that his judgment was impaired by the stress and insomnia. Yet he couldn't bring himself to stop. He had to keep going, to fight through, for only when the case was over could he rest.
He could see it in all their eyes. None of them believed he could do it. Through his sunken, hollowed eyes he peered at them as they recoiled from him and gave him a look of pity. Even Louise looked at him that way, whereas before she always had looked at him with admiration, respect, and lust. Their sex life, which always had been passionate, was now non-existent. The only person he could talk to was his brother, who always had been a good listener. Who needed a therapist when you had family? It all made sense to Andy. He poured out his heart to his younger brother, telling him over the phone things he could tell nobody else, not even his own fiancé, things such as how he was so afraid of failing and what he might be capable of if he couldn't find this boy.
Little did he know his brother was using it as research for his new book.
There was a point at which it seemed the world was turning against him. Louise stayed with her parents, leaving him a scribbled note of regret. His colleagues tried persuading him to surrender the case to someone more clear-headed. Eventually it seemed as though the only person who took him seriously, the only one who seemed
to respect his skills, was the kidnapper. The game and the exchange of letters continued, until eventually a final challenge was laid down. The kidnapper, who knew how fragile Andy's state was given it had been reported by the press (Andy suspected someone in his department had leaked this information to increase the pressure on him to step down, although he never could prove who it was.), told him he had a chance to redeem himself, to show everyone how wrong they were about him. He could save the boy and catch the criminal and be a hero, he could be the cop he always wanted to be.
Everyone said this was a trap, that Andy shouldn't be lured by the bait. Yet by this time Andy already had lost faith in the advice of those around them, viewing their words with suspicion and dread. The only one who always had been honest with him, at least in his own mind, had been the man writing the letters. The two of them had an almost symbiotic relationship and Andy had become defined by this man. If he caught him then he would be lauded as a hero, if not then the boy would die and Andy wouldn't be able to live with himself. But it was a personal battle, a matter between the two of them and nobody else in the city needed to get involved. Nobody could help Andy. The final letter came in, giving a clue as to the boy’s whereabouts. Andy, in his sleep-deprived state, decided he had solved the puzzle and raced to get to the location. There was a twist, of course. The kidnapper said that if Andy accepted the challenge and didn't get to the location in time then the boy would die.
'I ACCEPT' read the headlines the day after the letter had come in. Somehow everyone in the city expected Andy to win, because that's what happened, good always triumphed over evil. Even Andy, in the depths of his heart, expected he was going to find Sami and bring him back to his family. Then everyone who had doubted him would apologize and know he had done the right thing. The press would issue an apology, the mayor would give him a medal, the chief would give him a promotion and Louise would return to his arms, as happy as ever.