by Ron Ripley
Someone knocked at his door, and he looked over. One of the nurse’s aides stood in the doorway.
“Hello, Mr. Marion,” the woman said, her voice heavily accented. Elise was from South Africa, an exceptional worker, and by far one of the kindest people he had ever had the pleasure to meet.
“Ah, Ms. Elise,” Bradley said happily. “How are you?”
“Very good,” she said, stepping in. “There is a man here who would like to speak with you.”
Bradley frowned. He never had any visitors outside of his grandson. And Jonathan would have walked right in without stopping at the nurse’s station. “Who is it?”
“He said his name is Brian Roy,” Elise said, “and he says he would like to speak to you about Northfield Free Academy.”
“Please ask him to come back another day,” Bradley said, shaking his head. “I’ve no desire to meet with him. I’m certain it is some ruse from my children.”
“Alright,” Elise said, smiling. “I’ll be back shortly with fresh coffee.”
“Excellent,” he said. She left the room, and Bradley returned to the window. He looked out at the large koi pond in the courtyard below.
“Mr. Marion,” Elise said from behind him.
Surprised, Bradley turned around. “Yes?”
“He’s insistent,” Elise said apologetically. “He asked me to tell you he wishes to speak with you about the Weiss Library and Nathaniel Weiss.”
“Oh,” Bradley said, sitting down in his easy chair. “Oh. Are you certain he said Weiss?”
She nodded.
“Please, send him in, then,” Bradly said softly. “And would you bring two coffees?”
“Yes,” Elise said. She hesitated at the door and said, “Are you sure you want to see him, Mr. Bradley?”
He smiled at her. “Yes. Yes, Elise. Thank you.”
She nodded and left the room. A moment later, she returned with a middle-aged man who looked as though he had seen better days. The man’s eyes were dark with lack of sleep, and he thanked Elise.
When she had left the room, the stranger advanced into the room and offered his hand to Bradley.
Bradley shook it. “Please, sit down, Mr. Roy.”
“Brian, please,” the man said.
“Brian,” Bradley said. “You may certainly call me Bradley.”
“Thank you,” Brian said, taking a seat in the room’s other chair. He adjusted it slightly so he could face Bradley.
“You mentioned Mr. Weiss,” Bradley said, his voice suddenly rough.
Brian nodded. “I did.”
“Why?”
“He’s back,” Brian said.
Bradley shook his head. “How? I hid the damned safe? I put it into a wall, for Christ’s sake!”
“There was an accident at the school,” Brian said. “Someone found it. Someone opened it. You left the key with it.”
Bradley nodded. “I did. I couldn’t keep the key with me. I was afraid I might have to add something to the safe someday. So I put the key with it.
“Well,” Bradley said, sighing, “tell me what’s going on.”
Brian spoke softly, pausing only once when Elise brought the coffee in. When he finally finished, Bradley was fully aware of what had occurred at the Academy.
“Tell me, Brian,” Bradley said after a moment, “what is it you wish to know from me.”
“Where are the other items which were originally in the safe?” Brian asked.
Bradley looked at him in surprise. “How do you know of them?”
“I spoke with Ernest,” Brian said.
“Ernest who?”
“Ernest Weiss,” Brian replied.
Bradley shook his head. “Ernest Weiss is dead. And he has been for a very long time.”
“I know,” Brian said. “I went and spoke to him at his grave.”
Bradley chuckled and then saw Brian hadn’t tried to be funny. The man was serious.
“How?” Bradley asked, unable to keep scorn out of his voice. “Are you a medium?”
“No,” Brian said. “But I do see the dead. And I can speak with them, too. Ernest told me about the items in the safe. About locking his father’s ghost in it. I did some research last night. You were the Academy’s first librarian; 1980 and 1981, there were some bad events which occurred.”
Bradley looked at Brian, nodded and said, “Yes. They weigh heavily upon me. I’m to blame, after all.”
Brian looked at him and waited for Bradley to continue.
Bradley took a deep breath and said, “As I’m sure you have surmised, I found the safe. I opened it. I found Nathaniel Weiss’ photo. I said his name. Little did I know, it would release him, or that I’d be talked into foolish actions.”
“What happened?” the younger man asked.
Bradley smiled bitterly. “I let Mr. Weiss speak.”
“That was all?” Brian asked, surprised.
“It’s more than enough,” Bradley responded. “He is an extremely persuasive man, Brian. He is an exceptional speaker. It was he who convinced me to take the other items out of the safe, to place them around the Academy. Once I realized he was the one responsible for the incidents on the campus, then I understood I’d been a fool.”
“Did you ever speak the names of the other individuals, those bound to the different items?” Brian asked.
Bradley shook his head. “I did not. I believe it was part of Weiss’s overall plan, however. You see, the items were placed in key places. A watch fob went into the Mather House. A hairbrush went into the administration building. I placed a squirrel skull in Deer Stag House. There was a leather-bound book which I put into the library. Oh, a pocket-watch, yes, the pocket-watch. I placed that in the field house.
“There were other items I gathered for him,” Bradley said, remembering. “A trophy of a graduate. A letter from another man. Hm, I think, and bear with me, I also found a gold wedding band. It is in the fountain at the center of the quad.”
Brian had taken out a cell phone and typed the information into it. After a moment, he looked up at Bradley and said, “Do you remember exactly where you put all of them?”
“Oh yes,” Bradley said, nodding.
“And you’ll tell me where?”
Bradley smiled. “Yes. Of course I will tell you”
Brian returned the smile. “Bradley, how did you get Weiss back into the safe? I doubt he would have been thrilled with the idea of it.”
“He would have murdered me if he had known my intentions,” Bradley said. He looked down at his hands. The old fingers were hooked, the victims of arthritis. He looked at Brian. “What I did was move the safe into the cellar of Deer Stag House. I propped the door open and hid it behind a drop-cloth. When I moved Weiss’s photograph, he suspected nothing. As far as he knew, the safe was still in his study in the library. I told him I was moving him to a place where he wouldn’t be found. He did not suspect me of subterfuge. Did not believe I would be capable of tricking him."
“I was.” Bradley shook his head, put his hands on his legs and looked at Brian. “Now, if you will, Brian, listen closely. I will tell you where I hid the objects.”
Chapter 43: Meeting at Mitchell’s
After dinner, Leann had left to visit her sister.
Brian and Mitchell sat on the back porch. He had told Mitchell briefly of his research, of the more-than-plausible motives for Weiss’s actions. Earlier, after having spoken with Bradley Marion, Brian had texted the list of hidden items and their locations to Mitchell. The two cousins were enjoying coffee and the sound of the birds singing in the trees lining the backyard.
“When do you want to go find them?” Mitchell asked.
Brian looked at his cousin and said, “Well, I’d like to take all of them at once. But, most importantly, I need to know where Weiss’s photo is. If we can’t lock him up along with the others, then we’ll just be doing this again later. Or, even worse, someone else will be.”
“And we need to be able to put Weiss
in the safe again?” Mitchell said.
Brian shook his head. “No. We’re not going to worry about the safe. We’ll get a few lead-lined boxes.”
“Hold on,” Mitchell said. “Where in the hell are we going to get one lead-lined box, let alone a few of them? It’s not exactly an easy item to find.”
“Remember Alec Rushford?” Brian said.
Mitchell nodded.
“Rushford runs the landfill over in Bozrah,” Brian said. “I’ll give him a call, tell him what I need. He’ll get them together for us.”
Mitchell said, “Won’t he ask what you need a lead box for?”
“No,” Brian replied.
“Why not?”
“Remember when Lance Belleau went to prison for the armed robbery of the Tokyo Steakhouse?” Brian asked.
Mitchell frowned, and then he nodded. “Yeah.”
“Remember when he said Alec Rushford was his getaway driver?” Brian said.
“Yes,” Mitchell said. “They never brought charges against Rushford, though.”
“Course not,” Brian said. “I told them Alec was with me. My girlfriend at the time, Jodi, she said Rushford and I were at KFC eating while she was working.”
“Wasn’t he?” Mitchell asked.
“Hell no,” Brian said, grinning. “The dummy was driving that suped up Monte Carlo that Lance owned.”
“You know what,” Mitchell said. “I don’t want to know any more about what you did for anyone else.”
“Fair enough,” Brian said. “Anyway, back to the issue at hand. Weiss isn’t stupid. He was tricked once before because he didn’t know the safe had been moved. Pretty sure he’ll keep a better eye on it this time. But the main issue is finding out where his photo disappeared to.”
“How do you suggest we find it?” Mitchell asked.
“I’m going to have to go to the Academy,” Brian said. “I’ll have to try and spot some of the dead, see if I can get someone to tell me anything.”
Mitchell stared at him, a look of horror on his face.
“Listen,” Brian said, “I’m not a fan of the idea. Weiss is a bad man, he likes to do bad things. Although if we’re going to get rid of him, and all the others he’s managed to gather around him, then this is what needs to be done.”
“What about Charlie?” Mitchell said. “What are you going to do about him?”
Brian shrugged. “I don’t know, to be perfectly honest, Mitchell. I’m just hoping I can help him. My first priority though has to be finding where Weiss’s photo is.”
“And when you do?” Mitchell said.
“When I find it, and when we have the box,” Brian said, “we go in fast, and we go in quiet. We find all we can, and we get them into the box.”
“We, as in you, me, and Detective Skillings?” Mitchell asked.
Brian nodded. “Exactly.”
“Three of us for eight objects?” Mitchell said. “I don’t particularly like those numbers.”
“Think of it this way,” Brian said. “We can worry about the inactive items later. Probably even put them back in the safe. There are only five items we know of as active. Three are definitely dangerous: the watch fob, the letter, and the photo. The watch fob should still be in the Mather House. The letter is in your office. That leaves us with finding Weiss. When it’s time, you can do the letter, we’ll have Beth take care of the fob. I’ll handle Weiss.”
“You shouldn’t be handling any of them,” Mitchell said seriously. “Your heart really isn’t in any condition to undergo any additional stress, Brian.”
Brian nodded. “I know. This has to be done, though. And, honestly, Mitchell, I think the only way I can help Charlie is by getting rid of Weiss.”
“You better put all of this down on paper,” Mitchell said, “because I am not going to be the one to deal with Jennifer.”
“Yeah,” Brian said, sighing. “I know.”
Mitchell stood up, looked down at Brian, and asked, “Want more coffee?”
Brian nodded and wondered how to tell Jenny about what he planned to do.
Chapter 44: Dealing with It
Herman sat at the dining table. His mother sat in her seat. His father in his.
First time in years, Herman thought.
His parents weren’t drunk, but they weren’t sober either. Mrs. Alcott had called them in the morning, told them Herman had been mugged, and left the story there.
Herman sat with his head down, staring at his hands.
Finally, his mother spoke.
“Why were you out after your curfew?” she asked, picking up her wine and taking a sip. His father drank a screw-driver. Both of their thin faces were swollen from the alcohol abuse.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Herman answered. It hurt to speak, but he knew it would be worse if he remained silent. And, he had discovered, he could lie to his parents. Easily.
“Then you stay in your room until you fall asleep,” his father said sternly, his words carrying only the slightest hint of a slur.
Herman raised his head and looked him in the eye. Then, without knowing why, he asked, “Do you have any idea how hard it is to fall asleep here?”
His father blinked in surprise, and his mother said, “Excuse me?”
Anger flared up in Herman. “I said, ‘Do you have any idea how hard it is to fall asleep here?’”
“Watch your tone, Herman,” his dad said.
“No,” Herman said, turning his attention back to the older man. “I’m tired of all of this crap. Yeah. I went out last night. I got mugged. I went out because I can’t sleep when you two get drunk and scream and yell at each other.”
His mother’s hand shook, and she put the wine glass on the table. Her face went red as she said, “You’re going to mind your manners.”
“I have minded my manners,” Herman spat. “For years. Mother. Father. I hate being here. There’s never any food. All you do is drink and fight and drink some more. I don’t remember the last time either one of you were sober.”
His father swung clumsily at him, and Herman jerked his head back, the man’s fingers passing in front of his nose. Herman kicked his chair back as he jumped up. Rage filled him.
“Come on, you drunk,” Herman snarled. “You’re too drunk to land a punch. I hate you. I hate you both.”
His parents sat in silence, surprised expressions on their faces.
“You know,” Herman continued, “I wouldn’t even care if you were drunks so long as you didn’t hate each other. I wouldn’t even care about your drinking if there was real food in the house.”
He tasted blood in his mouth, laughed, and spat it out on the table. His mother gasped and his father muttered under his breath. The large, bloody clot on the pale wood of the table stood out harshly.
“That,” Herman said, shaking with fury, “is what I think about the two of you.”
Without waiting for a response, Herman turned around and walked out of the house. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and headed towards downtown.
I’ll eat at the soup kitchen tonight, he told himself.
Behind him, someone called his name.
He ignored them.
Chapter 45: At the Academy
The clock at St. Patrick’s on Washington Street chimed eight, and the sun had nearly vanished from the horizon. Brian stood on the sidewalk facing the Weiss Library, and he waited.
Soon, he knew, Weiss would come out of the building. For the past three nights, he had done the same. And each time, the man had been accompanied by an unknown young woman, and by Charles Roy. Charlie, wearing a red sweatshirt and blue jeans, a pair of Adidas sneakers. The exact outfit Charlie had worn to school the day he had been murdered.
The idea that Weiss was using his brother to increase his power, to come forth and possibly hijack Herman’s body, filled Brian with rage.
Movement at the library distracted Brian. Weiss came out of the building with the young woman. Charlie didn’t accompany them. Brian watched as Weis
s and the girl turned away to the left, disappearing quickly around the side of Adrienne Hall. And still, Charlie didn’t appear.
Brian sent a text to Mitchell to wait for him by the Admin building, and then he hurried to the library. He tried opening the door and found it was still unlocked. Brian pushed it, slipped in, and turned on the main light. Fluorescents flickered into life and hummed noisily in the building’s silence. Slowly, Brian looked around the first floor.
Where is he? Brian wondered. He made his way up the stairs, walking cautiously, keeping an eye out for his brother. When he reached the second floor, he froze.
Charlie stood outside of a closed door.
Brian wanted to sob, but he held back his grief and took a careful step towards Charlie. His brother turned and looked at him. There was no recognition.
And why would there be? Brian thought bitterly. I don’t look like I did anymore. That was decades ago.
Brian moved a little closer and said softly, “Hello.” Charlie looked at him, eyes narrowing.
“Hello,” Brian said, slightly louder.
“You’re talking to me,” Charlie said finally.
“Yes.”
“How can you see me?” Charlie demanded. “I’m dead.”
“I can see the dead,” Brian answered. “I can talk to you.”
Charlie thought about it for a moment. “What do you want?”
“I’m looking for something,” Brian said.
“What?” there was a heavy note of uneasiness in his brother’s voice.
“A photograph. An old one,” Brian said.
“Why?”
“I need to put it away,” Brian replied.
Charlie took a step back, closer to the closed door.
In there, Brian realized. Somewhere in there. Weiss’s old office.
“What happens if it’s put away?” Charlie demanded.
“Things become quiet,” Brian said. “Life becomes good and peaceful.”
“Will you put me away?” Charlie asked.
Brian shook his head.
“Why Nathaniel and not me?”
“Because,” Brian said, his voice quivering, “he’s not my brother.”
