by Bill O. A
“Good morning everyone.” Amy spoke as if she has been liberated from an incurable disease.
“Darling, you are awake,” Jessica spoke as Amy entered the living room. She was on the last steps and looked at her father and George.
“Please come right here. We are happy to see you smile,” said George. “So, my child, how did you sleep, well?”
“Yes. It was normal and there was no ‘visit’, as you call it.”
“I prefer experiences. It tells a clearer picture of things.”
Amy smiled at her father and his comment.
“You have to keep your necklace on at all times. It has been said to create a good distance between you and your visitor.”
George was deep in thought. He needed to decide when to tell the family what the temple manuscript says about the physical contact of the victim with the real man of her dreams. The soothsayer to King Philip was a bit too dramatic; the manuscripts state there must be a touch of skin between the two parties to lift the curse. There was no mention of any sexual encounter, so he figured it must have been derived from the culture at that time. He knew he had to place all cards on deck to prevent any eventual failure from a possible mere handshake. The Joneses had to be prepared to let their daughter perform any act required.
“So, is your friend still sleeping?” asked Donald.
“Yes, she is. I guess she slept very late last night.”
“Please come with me Amy, I need you to have breakfast,” Jessica interrupted.
“There will be no need for that, Mum. I will wait till Sandra wakes up. So Dad, Mum how far with the search for John Doe?”
Harry Peterside had been a cop for fifteen years. Today, he was a private detective running his own business. He picked up the sketch sent in by Professor George and took a long and hard look at the facial image. He couldn’t place an age to the face, but a rough guess would say twenty years, a young man. He picked up his phone and dialled a number.
“Hello? Doug, how are you today?”
“I am great. So you have the sketch ready now, huh?”
“Yeah. I do. I will send it to your private email. I’ll like you to upload it this evening.”
“I understand perfectly. SAFCOM has been a wonderful software since installation and the cases solved through its assisted search have been tremendous. I will give you feedback after a week unless something comes up before then, although we usually get results in about a week. If there’s no positive result then the chances of success will drop significantly for the rest of the search.”
“Well understood old friend. I will wait for any feedback within the week. Thank you very much.” He hung up.
Harry knew this wasn’t the conventional ‘find a missing person’ kind of investigation. It was a search for an unidentified person probably living in the country. He had to go back to the old methods to get a lead, but first he would wait for results from SAFCOM.
Amy went upstairs to check Sandra. She opened the door and found the bed empty so she called out for her.
“I am in the bathroom. I will come out once I am done.”
“Not a problem,” replied Amy. “Breakfast is ready and I have some shopping to do.”
“Great! I will be out in a bit.”
Amy selected a casual outfit of a pair of jeans and a T-shirt to wear. Sandra wore the flowing dress she had packed in her bag and they went downstairs for breakfast.
George was still making that phone call; some important man he is.
“All right girls, make it snappy and get to the shopping mall. The list is stuck on the fridge and my credit card is on the table beside my laptop,” said Jessica as she gave instructions.
There was a breath of fresh air in the house, the atmosphere seemed relaxed.
“Certainly Mum, but I also made a list for myself. I need some new clothes and some girl’s stuff.”
“You know your budget for the month, so don’t go on a spending spree. Just spend within the agreed budget.”
“Okay, sure Mum. On my honour.”
George was still on the phone; this time he was talking to Mark.
“I think it is time to let the Joneses know of the ancient manuscript and its contents with respect to the touch concept,” said Mark, who was eager to get things rolling.
“I get your point Mark, but the truth is we have to find the ghost man before any further revelation.”
“Giving the Joneses the full picture will help them guide their plan,” countered Mark.
“You see my friend, no victim of haptomai has ever had their curse lifted by an ordinary touch. Only the princess has had hers lifted, and there was a sexual encounter. The other two victims died before their ghost man could be found, so from the trend it is only safe to prepare the mind of the Joneses.”
“What you are doing can be seen to be unethical. In this day and age, would you really have that young girl have sex before the right age or even against her will, when there is a possibility that a mere touch could lift the curse?”
“Let us not drag this discussion any further, our main priority is to find the ghost man and present him to the Joneses. At that stage, we can then decide the right thing to do and evaluate all associated risk.”
“Seems like a fair enough plan. Would you be coming to the golf course later today? I want to introduce you to some friends.” Mark was now comfortable with the plan.
“I will try,” replied George.
Chapter 7
South-western Nigeria
27th June 2015, 10:35 a.m.
“Toun, I want you to present the list of schools in the USA I have created for Kenny to choose from. I want this matter of choice of university to come to an agreeable end.”
“Come on honey, we still have till he is eighteen before we start looking for schools.”
Bode was surprised. “I am sure I married a qualified accountant. How can you say we shouldn’t plan for his future? At best that is the meaning of what you are saying.”
“All right, let me see the list. We have Massachusetts Institute of Technology, University of California — Berkeley, Stanford University and Georgia Institute of Technology. So, what is special about these universities?” inquired Toun.
“They are top engineering schools in the USA. My plan is to have him visit their websites, choose an engineering course and plan to meet up with their entry requirements when the time is right.”
“Our son is academically sound. I am sure with the right guidance he will excel.”
“Please keep that copy and settle this matter for me once and for all.”
Kenny often played soccer every Saturday at the community’s playground. He left his house at seven a.m. in the morning and returned home around eleven a.m. to have breakfast, after that he would engage in some educational reading. He was in his room studying when his mum came knocking.
“Hey, Kenny. Can I come in?”
“Sure Mum, the door isn’t locked.”
Mrs Williams went in to meet her son “My boy, I have always loved the idea of allowing the younger generation have a say in their future plans but, as the first son, you have to give some room for us to show you the right way. Your father and I have made a list of schools in the USA which you can choose from. I know you will be fully qualified in about three years but it only safe for us all to agree what path your future will take. You know you are a special child, especially the way you survived during your birth, and the way we lost your twin brother. We can only wish you the best.”
“Mum, I know Dad has made you do this, but can we all agree on a plan that I would have some input? If I am going to end up studying engineering in an American university and forfeit my British university plans, then what would I gain in all this?”
“Please son, don’t look at things that way. Your father believes so much in the American university system, but that doesn’t mean the British aren’t getting it right. It is just a matter of preference, and to add the idea of your love
for soccer that really infuriated him.”
“These are my conditions Mum — I get a ticket to the UK from the USA once a month for the entire period of my university education. I also get extra pocket money to fund my hotel and stadium entry fee in the UK.”
“Do not let your father hear this. When you are in school, you ought to be studying not vacationing. I will see what I can do when the time arises but, right now, let us just assume we have agreed on the official family plan, okay?”
“All right Mum, anything for you.”
“Here is the list of universities we have chosen. They are all American. Go through their websites and plan which one you would prefer, although it is most likely you will apply to all when you are ready.”
Bode was watching his favourite TV station; CNN had become a cult following for him. He spent three hours every evening updating himself on current international news.
“Can we please watch something else? You cannot hold the living room to ransom with your addiction to foreign news.” Toun wasn’t happy with the growing trend of her husband’s activity in the evening. “Please can you tune to something more Nigerian? You can try African Magic, they have loads of movies with Nigerian content.”
“You are obviously joking. I bought the dual view system so that choices can be made on different TVs, so please go to the room and watch African Magic there,” Bode replied.
“This isn’t the romantic man I married. How did you get to this point? The little time we should have together and you say go to the room. I wonder what the years have done to you.”
Bode ignored her comment and kept on watching the TV.
“I have good news for you. At least that will relieve you of the endless sad news you watch every evening.”
Bode kept on watching TV acting oblivious to his wife’s statement.
“Kenny has agreed to your plan about his choice of university.”
Bode adjusted himself immediately. “Are you serious? I was thinking it was going to be a long argument. How did you do it?”
“At least lower the volume of the TV set if you really want to talk,” said Toun, happy that she had the upper hand now. Bode muted the TV.
“So you say our boy is now cool with our plans?”
“Your plan, not ours. I only agreed to it because I knew the problems that would arise if we don’t have things your way.”
“The truth is the boy should be given what he wants, but you said we should coax him the other time,” replied Bode.
“Why a sudden change of feelings about the matter? I know what I said,” Toun replied with disdain, “but the way our son is feeling about everything doesn’t make things look like coaxing anymore. The boy feels he is mandated to oblige our wishes. We are creating distance between us and Kenny.”
“Don’t worry honey,” Bode replied. “When he grows up and becomes a man, he will understand why we took this path. Please remain confident that all is going to be well.”
Bode changed the channel to African Magic, Toun sat close to him and nodded in acceptance.
“I just hope we are right with this plan,” she said, leaning on Bode and watching TV as she spoke. She began to concentrate on the movie.
Chapter 8
Omaha, Nebraska
24th June 2015, 9:25 a.m.
“The image is ready sir, and it doesn’t look like any of the three sketches we already have of our presumed killer or should I say Scott Thomas is an intelligent man,” said Brad. He was smiling at Jack as he spoke.
“Well, we cannot assume that Scott Thomas is the killer. The name doesn’t pop up on any database, it’s like he was never on the grid,” replied Jack.
“What is the status of our agents and their reports on the other five?”
“Two out of the five have been contacted and informed of the situation. The other three are yet to be abreast on what is going on. They changed addresses and we are yet to make contact with them,” replied Brad.
“That sounds fine. So what have the first two told us?” queried Jack.
“One of the men is Tom Flint, the Marine who searched the hut after the blast.”
“Yeah right, I remember him,” replied Jack.
“Well, he currently runs a bar in Miami, Florida and seems to be doing well for himself. He has been briefed on the situation and his story is in line with that of Bob Grant.”
Brad loved this part of the job. He just made special agent eight months ago and was assigned to this case. All his training was paying off. Jack has been impressed with his dedication and professionalism.
“So, he has agreed to be bait, right?” inquired Jack.
“Yeah, he has. The field agents are already working on his routine. They will set up an undetectable wall of protection around him. Once our killer begins his trail, we will pick up his scent and close in on him. We are operating on standard procedure. The other man is Kelvin Bright the interpreter, he lives in New York City. He is a florist. Our agents have also informed him of what is going on and are laying the same plan for the killer.”
Jack was hopeful; the killer has been very intelligent so far.
“Where exactly are we on the other three who have not been contacted?” inquired Jack.
“The new addresses of the three men are now available and our field agents are approaching the men as we speak. Status report will be ready this evening. The plan is the same — lure them into being bait to be able to capture the killer. If only we could know who number five would be, then our logistics problem will be solved.”
“Any news from the cryptology department?”
“Alan Brookes says his team needs time to figure out who’s next on the killer’s list. We just have to wait it out,” replied Brad.
“Tell the New York office to send a team to the Red Cross base over there. I am having a feeling about the Vietnam boy who was adopted; we need to be sure who he is.”
“Sure boss, I am on it.”
“Good afternoon,” said the lady at the front desk. “How may I help you?”
The two agents were standing in the reception of the Red Cross office in New York. They flashed their badges.
“We are with the FBI. Can you please inform the head of this organisation that we will like to have a chat?”
Agent Tony had always been a no-nonsense man, going straight to the point all the time.
“I am sorry but Mrs Andersen isn’t in at the moment, but you could talk to her assistant. I am sure he will be happy to help you.”
“That is fine, we will meet with him.”
“Please wait in the visitors’ room and let me call him for you.”
Richard Jenkins walked into the room.
“Hello gentlemen.”
“Good afternoon,” replied Tony. “So what can the Red Cross do for the FBI?”
“We are here on a fact-finding mission. We have reliable information that this office was actively involved in the Vietnam War, giving supplies and aid to both sides.”
“That was some time ago,” replied Richard. “The only link between this office and the Vietnam War is our records. The files are in the basement. We only started saving soft copies from year 2000. What are you looking for?”
“The Red Cross took over the care of a Vietnamese baby after his family was accidentally killed during the war. He was later adopted by an English family. We need to find that family and the boy who is obviously a man now,” replied Tony.
“From my understanding, this would be an isolated case as our operations were not into the catering of babies. No matter the story, do you know what dates this event happened so that we can start sorting the files?”
“We are still working on that but the information is authentic.”
“I see. All right let us all go to the basement. There is a lot of manual work to be done.”
Eric strolled into the Chief Lester’s office. The FBI had practically taken it over and turned it to a project office. Jack and Brad were having a chat clos
e to the window.
“We are closing up for the day. Would you need anything?” Eric asked the occupants of the room.
“It is okay, Eric. We will be fine, thank you,” replied Brad.
As Eric was leaving the office, the phone rang. Brad received the call and kept it on speaker.
“Hello, this is Agent Barbara. Alan said I should call immediately anything came through.”
Eric stopped in his tracks and waited to hear the caller out.
“We have found a link on the hit list. I am sending the updated version across to you. You will have it shortly.”
Jack was thrilled. The three men in the room went to the large monitor at the side of the office and waited for the mail.
“Okay, open the mail Eric,” said Jack:
Staff Sergeant Ethan Bakes — Nickname — Captain
Sergeant Benjamin Atwood
Corporal James Burns
Corporal Paul Jackson
Corporal Tom Flint
Lance Corporal George Holmes
Lance Corporal Daniel Stones
Private Kelvin Bright
Private Ryan Brown
“Are you still there, Barbara? The first four victims make the top list,” declared Jack.
“Exactly,” replied Barbara. “So the killer is taking out these men based on their hierarchy in the Marines.”
“If your analysis is correct, then the next target is Tom Flint,” replied Jack. “Brad, call the Eppley Airfield. We need a jet to Miami within the next hour. Eric, please send an officer to the hotel to get our stuff, we are going to take over the Florida operation.”
“Certainly, sir,” replied both men.
“It is becoming increasingly obvious that the killing of the Vietnamese family has a direct link to these murders. Could a relative of the deceased family be on a revenge mission?” inquired Brad.
“We really can’t tell at this stage. From my experience, anything is possible,” replied Jack. “And also, don’t forget to keep contact with the New York team. We need to identify the British family and their adopted son.”
“I have got something,” shouted Agent Mason. “The folder has some pictures, adoption papers and contact details for the Taylors.”