by David Carter
Chapter 44
The Watcher returned home from his mid-morning walk, confirming that indeed, Blaze had been released from prison. “Not long now, Bobby, it’s almost playtime,” he said to himself.
Trinity was in immense discomfort, numb all over after spending a second night tied to a chair, causing the blood to cease flowing properly through her veins, like a dry river bed in a desert, waiting for the rainy season to begin.
The Watcher went down to his basement and into his secret lair, returning upstairs to Trinity with a syringe full of anaesthetic. “It appears that Bobby has saved your life today, Trinity,” he said.
She exhaled a huge sigh of relief. “Does that mean I’m free to go?”
“Yes, it does. In fact, I’m taking you to see him right now.”
“Really?”
He took one of Trinity’s bound arms and injected the small dose of clear liquid into a vein on the top of her hand. He pretended to be an anaesthetist, saying, “Count backwards from ten for me, Trinity.”
She didn’t give him the satisfaction of playing along with his charade before fading away into a deep sleep, with the warped sound of the Watcher’s favourite song ringing her ears.
Trinity awoke from her drug-induced sleep. She winced in agony as she felt an unbearable, searing pain in her back. With a cloudy mind and hazy vision, she blinked away the intense sun rays doing their best to blind her, needing a full five minutes to clear her head and take in her surroundings. When her mind clicked into gear, she realised she was sitting on a gigantic patch of freshly turned soil. There were two dull yellow excavators showing signs of age with rust and caked on dirt in their tracks. She looked around and saw a red Bobcat, numerous cement-stained wheelbarrows, a white concrete truck, giant bundles of timber and cinder blocks, portable sheds full of what she assumed would be tools and safety equipment, and giant metal skips full of debris and charred remains of St Mary’s Christian School. There was an eerie silence in the air as all the heavy machinery was parked up and out of action for the day; it was a public holiday across the nation.
As Trinity’s senses rebooted, activating one at a time, she felt a foreign object jammed between her fingers. She opened her hand and read the message written on the sealed envelope: Attention: Detective Cameron Ryan.
Confused and in pain, she headed towards the nearby Glendale Police Station. Her legs protested, cramping up as she moved. She refused to give in, stopping to stretch her fatigued muscles before gaining forward momentum.
She made it to the main street. It was completely barren, not a soul to be seen. She walked south along the footpath for two blocks before turning down the street where Ryan’s car was parked outside the police station. As she slogged out the final few metres of her excruciating journey, Elizabeth, Ryan, Hampton, and Blaze were all waiting on tenterhooks, watching the clock as it ticked past midday.
Just as Blaze was about to say something nasty, Trinity crashed through the door, collapsing as her legs gave out.
“Trinity! My baby girl! Praise God you are safe!” cried Elizabeth.
She ran to her side, holding her daughter tight, like a newborn infant in her arms, then shrieked in horror as she saw her blood-soaked back. “Detective! We need to get her to the hospital!” she cried.
Everyone ran over to see what was wrong. They all saw the bloody message stained into the back of her T-shirt: Matthew 5:38.
“I’m gonna make him suffer for this!” shouted Blaze as he looked on in anger at the Bible verse sliced into Trinity’s back. He gently picked her up and carried her outside to Ryan’s car, cradling her on the back seat. “It’s okay, sis,” he said softly as he removed a strand of hair from her face, “you’re safe now.”
Ryan had noticed Trinity drop a small white envelope on the ground as Blaze rushed her outside to the car. He saw it was addressed to him. “What does that psycho bastard want now?” he muttered.
He opened the envelope and read the message:
Matthew 5:38. You have heard that it was said. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.
Ryan cursed before he read the rest of the message:
Well done, detective. Take a well-earned break. Keep Bobby on ice for me; I’m saving him for later.
I’ll be in touch.
God bless,
The Watcher.
Chapter 45
“Are you up to having a wee chat?” Ryan cautiously asked Trinity as she lay face down on her hospital bed, her head turned to one side.
“I’ll do my best,” she said wearily.
“Just take your time,” he said. “I can only imagine how you’re feeling after what you’ve been through.”
She winced as she took a breath. “I’m just grateful to be alive, to be honest. How bad is it?” she asked, trying in vain to look over her shoulder at her back.
Ryan cleared his throat. “Well, the good news is, the cuts weren’t very deep. I think the whole purpose of what he did was to shock everyone which he succeeded in doing. The doc who stitched you up said you’ll just have some minor scarring. It could’ve been a whole lot worse.”
“Thank God for that,” she said, relieved.
“Can you tell me what happened? I completely understand if you’re still traumatised by the whole ordeal. But anything you can tell me could be vital to my investigation.”
“No, it’s okay, detective, I don’t mind.”
“Just be gentle with her,” said Blaze, who’d woken from his nap, slouched in the chair in the corner of the hospital room.
“Blaze...” groaned Trinity as jovially as possible, “I’m so glad to see you. It’s been too long.” She coughed.
“Same here,” he said as he walked over and squatted next to her bed, giving her a kiss on the forehead. Then through clenched teeth, he said, “I’ll make whoever did this to you pay. I swear it.”
She feigned a smile. “It would be pointless trying to tell you otherwise,” she said.
Ryan interjected, “I don’t mean to rush you, but would you mind telling me what happened? Time is truly of the essence here.”
Blaze got up from his haunches and flopped back into his chair.
Trinity began. “Okay, well, I heard a knock on my front door a couple of nights ago, around one o’clock in the morning, I think. I was vigilant and turned on the porch light, before looking through the peep hole in the door. I didn’t see anyone. I wasn’t worried because I live a couple blocks down from the local pub in my area of town where I get the odd drunkard stumbling onto my doorstep by mistake. I opened the door and looked to my left and saw nothing. But when I turned to my right to go back inside, I saw a man in a black hood with his back pressed hard up against the wall beside my front door. He jumped out and overpowered me, using all of his body weight to pin me down on the porch, and inject me with some kind of a sedative.”
Blaze silently fumed in the corner as he listened to what had happened to her, growing more frustrated that he couldn’t rip her attacker apart this very moment.
Ryan wrote everything down as Trinity continued. “The next thing I recall was waking up blindfolded, tied to a wooden armchair.”
She started to sob quietly.
“I think that’s enough, detective,” said Blaze.
“It’s okay; I’m fine.” She sniffed. “It’s all just a little overwhelming. At one point, he threatened to stab my eyes out. He wouldn’t even let me go to the toilet without watching my every move.”
“I’m sorry,” said Ryan gently. “We can do this later.”
“No, it’s okay. I know how important this is to you. I really want to help,” she said eagerly.
“All right, but I want your watch dog over there in the corner to understand that you’re doing this of your own free will.”
She scoffed at his remark, sending her into a coughing fit. “Don’t worry about him. His bark is worse than his bite.” She tried to smile.
“I highly doubt that,” said Ryan. “So, what else can y
ou remember?”
“Well, I was tied to an armchair the entire time I was there. The man assured me that if I cooperated and that you managed to have Blaze released from prison, he would let me go.”
“Luckily, he made good on that promise,” said Ryan.
“I decided it was best to play along. He cooked me dinner, and he even let me feed myself after gaining his trust—which is when I got him talking...”
“About what?”
“Something that could be important.”
“Please, elaborate.”
“Well, he said something about his basement.”
“What about his basement?” he asked, almost tripping over the words as he scribbled down every syllable she spoke.
She paused, trying to remember his exact words. “I asked him what would happen to me if you failed to free Blaze from prison.”
“Yes, and?”
“He said he would take me for a tour of his basement. No, wait—he said it’s what lies beyond his basement that I should be afraid of.”
“What did he mean by that?”
“Well, he said he has enough tools and other horrible things down there to dismantle a human body in many grotesque ways. And he was obsessed with medicine, too. He kept pretending he was a doctor or one of those people who inject anaesthetic into patients before going into surgery.”
“An anaesthetist,” stated Blaze.
“Yeah, one of them,” she confirmed.
Ryan wrote everything down. “Can you tell me anything else? Did you see or hear anything unusual?”
“I think that’s all I remember. Oh, wait! He had old-fashioned religious music playing on an old gramophone all the time. There was this one song he played over and over. I think it’s called Old Time Religion or something like that. They were the main words to the chorus.”
Ryan quickly noted this down.
“What did his voice sound like? Young? Old?”
“Definitely older. His breathing was a little heavy at times, not as if he was overweight or anything, more like he was just worn out.”
“So maybe older than, say, fifty?”
“If I had to guess, I would say so.”
“Anything else?”
“There is one more thing...”
“Yes?”
“I think he may be interested in vintage cars.”
“What makes you think that?”
She winced as she inhaled deeply through her nose. “Although he had me blindfolded, if I tilted my head back far enough and looked down, I saw through the tiny slit of light at the base of the cloth tied around my face. And when he went out this morning, I tilted my head back, and I’m sure I saw a Glendale Vintage Car Club cap sitting on the table.”
“Are you sure that’s what it was?”
“I’m quite positive, actually.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’ve seen one before.”
“Really? May I ask where?”
“Sure. My mother’s ex-fiancé’s house.”
Ryan’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Do you mean Arnold Spencer’s house?”
It was Trinity’s turn to be flabbergasted. “How did you know his name?”
Blaze stood up from his chair. “Because he’s probably the asshole who did this to you. That’s how,” he said bluntly.
“Possibly the asshole who did this to you,” Ryan corrected him.
“No way!” she said, completely shocked.
“As I said, it’s only a possibility at this stage. But there is a hell of a lot of evidence stacking up against him,” said Ryan.
“I can’t believe he would do such a thing,” she said.
Everyone was silent for a moment. This was broken by Ryan who said to Trinity, “Was there anything else you wanted to add to what you’ve already told me?”
“No, I think that’s all,” she replied. “I’m quite tired.”
“Thank you,” he said kindly. “You’ve been so brave. You just rest up now, okay? I’ve got an officer posted on twenty-four-hour guard right outside your door. If you need anything at all, you just give him a holler.”
“Thank you, detective.” She paused. “What do you plan on doing now?”
“We’re gonna pay dear old Arnold a visit,” interrupted Blaze aggressively.
“We aren’t going anywhere near his residence until we get the search warrant approved,” said Ryan.
“Goody Two Shoes,” said Blaze. “I’ll go over there and kick his ass myself if you don’t get the ball rolling soon.”
Ryan’s phone rang in his trouser pocket. He answered it, and a few seconds later hung up. “Looks like you win, Blaze. The warrant’s just been faxed through down at the station. How would you like the pleasure of serving it to ‘dear old Arnold’?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Ryan thanked Trinity again and rushed off outside to his car. Blaze squatted next to Trinity’s bed, face to face with her. He asked, “Can you do me a favour, sis?”
“I don’t see how I can be much use to you right now,” she replied.
“You don’t have to do anything, as such.”
“Well, what then?”
“Just keep this safe for me,” he said as he slipped her the memory stick Franks had given him from his jeans pocket.
“What is it?” she queried.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
“Come on, you gotta give me something...”
He exhaled heavily. “You trust me, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then just promise me you’ll keep it safe. And whatever you do, don’t attempt to look at any of the files on it. You’ll never sleep again if you do.”
She hesitated a moment. “I can do that for you.” She smiled weakly.
He kissed her on the forehead.
“Love you, little bro,” she said gently.
He turned to walk away.
“Blaze...?”
“Yeah?” He turned around to face her.
She hesitated. “Mum loves you, you know that, right? She’d give anything to start over with you.”
He stood silently, for once unsure of what to say. “I love you, too, sis,” he replied.
He turned and walked out of the room.
Chapter 46
The pile of papers and various stationery items sitting on the surface of Archer’s desk scattered across the floor of his office after he angrily cleared it with a swift sweep of his arm. His frustration had risen to the point of boiling rage, as he no longer had his posse of Nugget, Bulldog, and Poochie. To make matters worse, his favourite new toy, Blaze, had been whisked away in the blink of an eye, leaving him with only the also-rans in The Wolves’ Den to play with.
With his burst of anger out of his system, he sat in his chair and pulled out a bottle of whisky from the bottom drawer in his desk. He poured himself a healthy sized glass, sipping it as he let the fond memories of Blaze’s time in the den stream through his mind. He thought about how Blaze had arrived in his office, and had been an arrogant little shit from the get go, not just to himself, but to all the other inmates in the den as well. All except one. “Danny,” he hissed.
Archer reached for his radio, commanding Franks to report to his office immediately. When he arrived, Archer said to him, “I want you to arrange a special surprise for Danny tomorrow morning.”
Franks was worried by his request. “What do you have in mind?” he replied.
“I want you to deliver him a cooked breakfast. Then I want you to allow him twenty minutes of hot water in the private ablution block for his morning shower where you will give him a fresh set of clothes and underwear. Throw in a new pair of shoes, too. While he’s showering, I want you to arrange for a new mattress, new bedding, and tomorrow’s newspaper to be folded up neatly on top of a fresh pillow in his cell.”
Confused, Franks replied, “I’ll take care of it, Governor.” He paused. “What’s the catch?”
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Archer’s evil smile beamed at the thought of tomorrow morning’s events. “After Danny has had the chance to eat his breakfast, have his shower, and relax while perusing the morning paper, I want you to take a couple of our trusted guards with you to the den and restrain him, cuffing his wrists to the bars of his cell after which you will call me on the radio so I can come have a chat with him.”
Franks played his part, returning Archer’s devious grin, displaying his large rows of white teeth. “Brass knuckles or batons up, Governor?”
Archer’s eyes gleamed. “I think I’ll start with the brass knuckles. We can move onto batons if he refuses to accept my proposal.”
“Which is...?”
Archer cleared his throat. “I want him to be the new top dog in the den. I want him training every day. I want him to be able to tear guys apart with his bare hands just like his insolent but amusing boyfriend did.”
“Boyfriend?” queried Franks.
“Bobby,” he replied tersely.
“Oh, I see. But why Danny? He doesn’t really fit the mould. He doesn’t enjoy the fights like Nugget did. He’s just a normal guy who still claims he’s innocent of murdering his wife and kid.”
“Well that’s all about to change,” said Archer. “He has all the potential in the world. He just doesn’t know it yet.” Then he added, “He just needs some experience. I have three new inmates arriving in the morning. One of them is a brute who raped his own mother. He can begin his training on them.”
Franks wanted to be sick. “Sounds perfect,” he lied, then asked, “What happens if he turns down your generous offer?”
“After I’ve given him a tune up, I will remind him of all the wonderful gifts I bestowed upon him: a cooked breakfast, new clothes, a fresh bed. I’ll promise him even more privileges as time goes on and body counts go up. If he still refuses after that, I’ll unlock every cell in the den, and let the animals restore the order of rank for themselves. Danny will be easy prey, as I’ll leave him cuffed to the bars of his cell, rendering him helpless.”
