From Darkness

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by Matthew Benefiel


  4: Notes on a Deranged Mind

  “Sir, you sent for me?”

  Guy sat at his office desk (which he somehow seemed to dwarf) trying to sort through a bunch of clutter on his desk while brushing crumbs from a donut from his bushy graying mustache. He looked up at Robert’s question.

  “Ah! Robert, saw you down at the gun range earlier this morning, nice grouping, prefer that USP huh?”

  “Yes sir, fits my hand comfortably and I seem to get more accuracy with it.”

  “Good, good, I prefer an old Colt 1911 myself, used to have one, original, but lost it years ago. Never did figure out what happened to it. Anyway, looks like your practice may come in handy; I’ve got an assignment for you, escaped convict. This guy, ah, Peter Marson, somehow managed to escape from a level 3 security prison; we’re thinking inside help. Top priority is to catch Marson, but also to figure out who helped him. I figured your skills may help in that. I’m assigning Leo and Charlie to work under you, I’m sure you can figure out how to use them.”

  “Yes sir, they are good men. When do we ship out?”

  “Tomorrow morning, only because I want you to spend the rest of today reviewing Peter Marson’s old file.”

  “I will get right on it.”

  “One other thing, let’s try to rap this one up fast, especially the capture, upon his first arrest three years ago Marson admitted to a plot to kidnap the President’s Daughter. I don’t think he ever could have done it, but I’d rather keep additional stress off the President at this time.”

  “I understand sir; I remember the case, though I didn’t have a part in that one.”

  “Fine, fine, better get going.”

  Robert remembered the case, but more from the fact that he had read the file already, once he was given access to the archives. It was one of the cases that had drawn his curiosity. Might as well go and review though, just to refresh his mind. He quickly found the file again in the archives and quickly glanced to make sure things were in order. He started to head back out the door when he passed something that caught his eye; the letter F. Memories flooded back and he wondered how he had passed this cabinet so often and never thought about it before. Here he could find the file on Trent Frennur. A curiosity stole over him and before he knew it he had opened the cabinet drawer. There wasn’t much there under Frennur, just one sheet of paper. It said: “Couldn’t fit the folder in the F’s, so I stuck it in the last cabinet labeled “Much Needed Space.” After a little chuckle Robert found the cabinet and found not only a large folder, but many folders. “Should give me some good reading on the side,” Robert thought to himself. He knew that the agency frowned on people taking off with files, but he convinced himself he would be okay, besides, he should have it back before anyone noticed. He had to resist the urge to read it in his office, besides Leo and Charlie kept stopping in to catch up. He also had to get travel arrangements, which managed to take the rest of the day. “Might as well take this home to read, too hard to hide in my office anyway,” upon which Robert crammed the folders into his brief case and heading out of the office for his home.

  When Robert got home he packed for the trip and read over Marson’s file while eating dinner. He finished up around 8:00pm and decided he would relax and watch some TV. After putting up with some horrendous singing from a popular contest show for ten minutes, he turned off the TV and picked up one of the files on Trent Frennur. It didn’t take long to realize that the files had been tampered with. Some information had been removed and retyped and in places whole pages were just missing. He found a letter from the then head of the agency, authorizing this removal of information. It appeared the prison was so controversial that the FBI was forced to close it, but allowed the removal of incriminating evidence. They even went as far as to rename and relocate the guards and any other persons involved to protect them from backlash. The only guards who weren’t given a new name were Gatchet and the one who died with Frennur. His name was James Ferguson. The main reason included that the media had already divulged his name and his wife and two children had been so devastated by his death that changing their name might have been too much. The family never even relocated. Whether in hopes James somehow survived, as his body was never found, or for the memories the report didn’t say. According to the report the FBI authorized payment to the family for counseling. Robert couldn’t help the tears in his eyes as he read the plight of the family, the daughter would be about his age now.

  He set down the current file and finally came to the bulk of the files, which was on Trent Frennur. Robert’s remorse turned to dread and shock as he read the horrors of how Trent tortured his victims before slowly killing them, or in some cases killing themselves. The shear number of murders was staggering. Four visits to SODM hadn’t prepared him for this. What made things worse was Frennur’s acute understanding of the police and FBI. He was always a step ahead; victims rarely were discovered before weeks had gone by. By then Trent was already on to his next plan. Only by a long shot guess was Gatchet able to finally find and corner Frennur. He chose at random from a list of fifty possible victims in sheer desperation. Compiling the list was Gatchet’s work and was considered the biggest step made in the three years of tracking Trent Frennur, including the year before Gatchet came on board. He could see now the temptation to find out what caused a man, particularly this man, to do these things.

  The studies revealed Trent to be a very intelligent man. He knew how to pierce into a man’s fears quicker than anyone realized and soon got too many of the guards and even the other prisoners. He managed to use the study of himself to study others. Of the four guards, three had to be replaced during the three years at the prison. James Ferguson was the only one to stay the whole while, but even he started cracking in the final five months. He had even spent his last report writing about how he hated Trent’s cold stare, yet couldn’t help returning the gaze. From that gaze James could envision his death, even listing in detail the fears he had if Frennur ever escaped. The final thought on James was that he finally cracked to the point of desiring that death he had imagined so much, which led to his releasing Trent during flight. This explained a lot of the devastation caused to the family by his death.

  “Ah man, it three o’clock in the morning already. How stupid! I have to get up at six. All right, time to head to bed.”

  Despite the need to get some rest, Robert couldn’t fall asleep. He kept thinking of Trent Frennur and the devastation he had wrought in his short life. Yet there was something that bothered Robert, something that had bothered him since childhood, though much stronger now. The pieces didn’t fit. The cracking of James Ferguson seemed plausible enough, given the known victims in the same situation, but Robert’s instinct told him James still had some sanity. He wondered if James knew something while he was alive, something no one else knew.

 

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