The Braille Killer (An Alice Bergman Novel Book 1)

by Daniel Kuhnley

  * * * * *

  I stand out front of the police station at the bottom of the concrete stairs. My glass bottle lenses have begun to fail me, the world a blurred mess through them. I’m certain by tomorrow I won’t be able to see at all.

  Veronica pulls into the parking lot in her fully restored, white 1987 Mazda RX-7 and pulls up to the sidewalk. It’s been decades since I’ve seen her—okay, almost a week—and I can’t wait to catch up with her. So much has happened over the last three days and she knows nothing about it. My heart flutters like it did on the first day of college.

  I open the car door and I’m immediately greeted by Guenter, her ever so excitable Maltese. Veronica scoops him up off the gunmetal-gray leather bucket seat and I drop down into it. The seat cradles me like an old glove.

  Veronica strokes Guenter’s head. “What’s with the Diana Prince disguise? Trying to fend off the hotties?”

  I exhale loudly. “I wish that were the case. Turns out Seth finds me sexier in them. The entire plan kinda backfired if you ask me.”

  She lets Guenter go and he’s in my lap quick as a bullet. His little tongue laps at my hand, my arm, and then my face like they’re bowls of water. I can’t help but giggle. I think I might’ve missed him more than her.

  Veronica reaches over and touches my leg. “You’re just too sexy, girl. Next time try the fake zits and the fart spray. If that don’t drive them away, nothing will.”

  I shake my head, lean over the center console, and hug Veronica. “I’ve missed you so much, Vee.”

  “Back at you.” She kisses my cheek. “I know you’re all secretive these days but finding out that you’ve kept Seth in the dark as well surprised me. I thought you guys shared everything with each other. Is everything okay between you two?”

  I lean back in the seat and Guenter continues his exfoliation treatment on my arms and hands. “Never better. I’ve just been working some things out that have nothing to do with him.”

  She sweeps her long blonde hair off her shoulders. Her hair is so gorgeous it makes me sick. I wish I could grow mine out, but department regulations won’t allow it.

  She pats my leg. “So where we headed? Back to your pad or over to mine?”

  “Actually, I need to go see an old friend. Mind taking me over to Rico’s?”

  Veronica turns in her seat and eyes me like a raptor. I can see the cogs turning in her mind. “Rico’s? The white cane shop? What do you need to go over there for?”

  “What if I told you I’m going undercover to try to stop a killer?”

  Veronica frowns. I can tell she’s not quite buying it. “Undercover? Is that why you’re wearing the glasses too? For this undercover job?”

  I hate lying to her, but I’m not quite ready to tell her the truth yet. How do you tell your best friend that you’re going blind? “Yeah, from what I understand there have been some pretty cool advances in technology over the last ten years, as far as canes go.”

  Veronica guffaws. “Rico? Seriously? He’s as likely to be into technology as the Pope is porn. I just can’t see it.”

  I nod like a bobble head doll. “Unbelievable, but true—the part about Rico that is.”

  “Huh. Never would’ve guessed. Rico’s it is.”

  I strap in and she puts the car in drive. We exit the parking lot and head northeast on Carmichael Drive. Traffic is fairly light for late Friday afternoon and it makes me wonder where they’ve all gone. There’s nothing ahead of us but empty streets, green lights, and palm trees.

  Fifteen minutes later we pull into the parking lot of Rico’s Cane Shoppe. The square building is about as old as Veronica’s car, but, unlike her car, it’s never had a facelift. The beige painted cinderblock walls look like they have a bad case of leprosy, their paint chipped and peeled everywhere.

  The once beautiful mural depicting a blind person using one of Rico’s canes to traverse the landscape has all but faded into oblivion, and the sign above the door that used to read “Rico’s Cane Shoppe” now reads “Ric‘s a hoe.” A fitting sentiment to this rundown neighborhood. It is the epitome of the red light district.

  I unbuckle my seatbelt, open my car door, and look over at Veronica. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  She gives me the bug eyes. “Pfft, you crazy, girl? It’s a hundred and fourteen degrees out here. My butt would melt to the seat and then I’d be walking around the rest of my life with car seat butt! No, no, no, my butt is going inside where there’s air conditioning. Guenter’s coming inside too of course.”

  It’s not ideal, but I don’t blame her for insisting on coming in too. “Okay.” I hand Guenter to Veronica and work my butt out of the seat. I grunt as I pull myself up.

  The doorbell plays a jingle when we walk inside the shop. The melody is familiar, but I can’t place it. Moments later, Rico walks through the black curtains hanging behind the front counter. I smile at him, certain he’ll never recognize me from so long ago.

  He shimmies around the side of the counter and approaches us with outstretched arms. “My Sweet Lord, if it isn’t Alice and her trusty sidekick Veronica!”

  He embraces me, and the smell of cherry vanilla tobacco on his shirt brings back memories I’d long forgotten. “Still smoking the pipe I take it?”

  He chuckles. “Some things never change, hijita.” He hugs Veronica and then steps back and eyes us both. “I’d say the two of you don’t look like you’ve aged a day, but I believe that would be an insult in this case. You’ve both grown into such beautiful young women.” He puts his hand next to his mouth like he’s whispering a secret to us. “Best be careful in this neighborhood.” He gives us both a long wink.

  Veronica shakes her head. “You’re as bad as they come, Padre.”

  She calls him Padre because he used to be a priest, but he gave up his white collar to sell wares for the blind community several decades ago. It was a smart decision at the time because we have one of the largest schools for the blind in the country here. From the looks of it though I’d guess online sales have nearly killed him. He sold me my first cane and every one of them since. I’d never think about going anywhere else.

  “I call it as I see it.” He smiles. “Gave me the opportunity to start an outreach program though. We meet here every Wednesday evening. I’ve managed to help a few of the girls stop hooking. It’s made me a bit unpopular with the pimps though.” He waves his hand. “Never mind that. You came here with a purpose.”

  He looks back and forth between me and Veronica and frowns. “Something here ain’t the same. I could be mistaken, but I don’t think that little pup there has seen a day of service.” He draws closer to me again and moves his head from side to side like a cobra being charmed. I follow his movement with my eyes. “Praise the Lord! You can see, can’t you Alice?”

  I smile. “For the last ten years now.”

  “But… how? Thought there was no hope for you ever gaining any sort of vision.”

  “As you and Mother would say, ‘It’s a damned miracle!’”

  He shakes his head. “You and I both know that isn’t true. The damned part anyway.” He crosses his arms and grins. “Wow. So happy for you, hijita!”

  My cheeks catch fire, and I look down at my shoes. “Thank you, Rico. It’s definitely been an experience I never thought I’d have.”

  “Well deserved. God is good.” He retreats to the backside of the counter and waves us over to him. “Come on over here and tell me what I can do for you.”

  We walk over to the counter. I glance at Veronica. She shrugs, and her eyebrows nearly touch the low ceiling. I lean on the counter and give Rico my best deadpan stare. “I’m looking for something special.”

  Rico cocks his head. “And what kind of special are we talking? Digital? GPS?”

  “No, not that kind of special. I’m working a case where I need to go undercover as a blind person. I need protection.” I lean forward and whisper, “You know, a cane with abil
ities.” I air quote the word abilities.

  Rico looks around cautiously. “Where did you hear that I sold such things?”

  His hand is on the counter and I place mine over it. “I’m a detective, Rico. I detect things.”

  His eyes widen. “Detective? As in private or police?”

  “Homicide. Two years now.”

  He blows air out of his mouth and it vibrates his lips. “Well that is something, isn’t it Veronica?”

  “She’s the best. At least that’s what her boyfriend partner says.”

  I turn and glare at Veronica. She just winks at me. Guenter whines and wiggles in her arms.

  “Boyfriend partner…” Rico whistles through his front teeth. “Dangerous combo there, hijita.”

  I raise my hand and smack it down on the counter next to Rico’s. “No more stalling, Rico. It’s time you show me your special collection.”

  He looks at Veronica. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

  Veronica backs away from the counter. “I think I’ll sit this one out.” She touches my arm. “Guenter and I will be over there on the couch.”

  Rico nods slowly. “Wise choice, hijita.”

  I snap my fingers. “I’m not a little girl anymore. Don’t treat me like one or I’ll bring some of my uniformed friends with me next time.”

  Rico grimaces. “Oh that hurts. Threats from my little Alice. Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

  I glare steel at him. “I’m not messing around.”

  He thrusts his hands in the air. “Okay, okay. I fold.” He looks toward Veronica. “Would you mind locking the front door and switching the sign over to closed?”

  “Sure, Padre.”

  He stares hard at me for several moments. “Come around the side of the counter. I will show you my special collection of canes.”

  I turn and give Veronica the “if I’m not back in twenty call the cops” look and then circle around the end of the counter. “I’m trusting you with my life, Rico. I need something extra special.”

  “And I’m trusting you with my reputation.” He pulls back the black curtain that separates the front of the shop from the back and holds it open. “Step on through.” I do.

  In the back of the shop are several workbenches with various tooling, some of which I recognize. There are machines that sew, stamp, and dye leather for the custom dog harnesses he sells and other machines that work with various metals to weld, mold, bend, and hollow out shafts for white canes. There are several dog harnesses and canes lying around the shop in various stages of completion. Rico handcrafts everything he sells in the shop right down to the stitching of the harnesses and the binding of the cords in the foldable canes. It’s impressive, especially for a one-man operation.

  The entire right and left sides of the shop are nothing but floor-to-ceiling cabinets full of various supplies. We walk over to one of the middle cabinets on the left. Heavy chain and a padlock the size of my hand secure the doors. Rico unlocks the lock with a key from the glob of keys hanging on a three-inch-diameter keyring on his belt. He unthreads the two-foot length of chain and hands it to me. It must weigh at least ten pounds. I set it on the floor behind me.

  My lips are wet with anticipation as Rico takes hold of the two door handles. When he pulls them open, I blink several times, my mind unsatisfied with what my eyes see. Two canes hang by their cords from hooks on the cabinet’s back wall, but they look just like the ones he has out front.

  Rico steps out of the way and gestures toward the two canes with his hand. “Here they are. Beauties of my own design. They’re the only canes I own with abilities.”

  I shake my head and set my jaw. “How are these any different than the others?”

  He wags his finger at me and his eyebrows rise. “Ah, but that’s the beauty of these two. Their subtle yet deadly differences will go unnoticed by most. Have a closer look.”

  I lean into the cabinet and pull the closest one off its hook. I wrap my fingers around the cane’s leather-wrapped handle and close my eyes. It’s been a long time since I’ve held one, but muscle memory takes over and, as strange as it sounds, gives me a sense of home.

  I open my eyes and inspect it closer. There’s a subtle, nearly undetectable break in the handle. I place a hand on either side of the break and twist counterclockwise on the left and clockwise on the right. With a bit more torque the two sides begin to unscrew from each other. With the threads clear, I pull on the top part of the handle and it slides out from the rest of the cane. A thin, long blade is attached to the handle end and shines under the fluorescent lights of the workshop.

  I slide the blade back into the cane and screw the handle back together. “This is a nice application but perhaps a bit clumsy to utilize in the middle of an attack.”

  Rico nods. “Agreed. You might find the other one more to your liking.”

  I hang the cane back up and unhook the other one. It has the same feel that the first one did but there’s no break in the handle. I run my fingers down its length but find no breaks of any kind. However, there’s a slotted hole in its tip. I look at Rico and he just smiles.

  My eyes race back to the handled end and the cord tied through it. The cord doesn’t slip straight through the handle like they do on most single piece canes. Instead the cord angles down into the handle. I wrap the cord around my left hand and fingers and hold the cane in my right hand. I yank on the cord and a long, thin blade springs out of the bottom of the cane, turning it into a spear. The blade is about the same size as the one on the other cane.

  Rico steps back as I whip it around. It feels natural and balanced in my hands, almost like a katana. I pull on the cord again, but the blade doesn’t retract. I try again, a bit harder, but get the same failed result.

  I look back at Rico. “Better, but how does the blade retract?”

  Rico steps forward again and holds out his hand. “Let me show you.” I hand him the cane. He wraps one side of the cord between his fingers. “Double release, single retract.” He pulls the one side of the cord and the blade slides back into the tip of the cane. “Either side will retract it.”

  I hold out my hands palms up. “That is exactly what I came here for. I’ll take it.”

  He lays it in my hands. “It’s…” His gaze locks onto my left wrist and his smile fades. His brow furrows and his eyebrows dive toward his nose. “Hijita?” His eyes lift and peer into mine.

  The workshop fades until we’re left standing alone on a dark plane. I’ve never felt more open or vulnerable in my entire existence. My soul is left bare to his gaze.

  Suddenly I’m an awkward teenager again, fidgeting with my hair as I stare at the inside of my left wrist. “Mother says it’s a birthmark.”

  “A mark for certain, but not of birth. Perhaps a better term would be birthright.”

  I stare harder at my wrist. Birthright? I don’t understand.

  I gasp like waking from a dream and the workshop surrounds us again. The cane is no longer in my hands but hanging in the cabinet once more. Rico shuts the cabinet doors. I blink several times with utter confusion.

  I close my eyes and take several deep breaths. “What just happened?”

  He ignores my question. “Would you mind handing me the chain?”

  The chain? The haze in my mind fades. I pick the chain up from the ground and stare at it. I can’t look at Rico right now without blushing. “Did I do something wrong?”

  He takes the chain from me and threads it through the cabinet door handles. “No, hijita.”

  I close my hands, lower my arms, and stare at the concrete floor, still unable to look him in the eye. “I thought you were going to sell me the cane.”

  He binds the chain with the lock and slams the lock shut with a grunt. “So did I, but we can never fully grasp the plans of the Almighty One until the moment is upon us.”

  I force myself to look at him again. “What plans?”

 
His grin stretches from ear to ear and his cheeks glow with excitement. “I’ve waited a long time for your arrival.”

  The aftereffects of my migraine still creep behind my eyes and slither through my mind. I rub my temples. “I don’t understand. I’ve been here before, Rico. Several times in fact.”

  “Yes, but you weren’t quite you yet.”

  His words spin my head about like a top and the rumblings of the approaching migraine thunder in my mind. “I don’t understand anything you’re saying. Are you speaking English?”

  “What I speak of is of no consequence right now.” He claps his hands together and my head nearly explodes. “It’s time I show you the basement.”

  Just when I thought things couldn’t get any stranger with Rico they turn toward the absurd. “Basement? These old shops are built right on top of the lava bluffs. Digging out a basement would be beyond expensive.”

  “In those terms I’d agree, but sometimes there are ways around such limitations.” He leans close. “Are you ready to see the basement? Few ever have. Fewer have returned.” He winks at me.

  I raise my arms. “I think I’m good. I’ll just take an ordinary cane and be on my way.”

  He beckons me closer. “Hijita I have what your heart desires, but your lips are too afraid to ask for it. Come and see for yourself.”

  My left wrist itches and I’m suddenly burning with fever. My mind fills with whispers of a past I could never have lived and a need to visit the basement wells within and consumes me. “Yes.” My voice pants with desire. I must see the basement.

  He leads me over to the back corner section of the right-side cabinets, opens the last cabinet door, and reaches up inside of it. I hear a soft click followed by grinding gears, squeaking pulleys, and whooshing gas shocks. The entire middle section of cabinets, about twelve feet long, slide out from the wall about five feet, revealing a narrow stairway leading down into the darkness.