“But you married me, and for a short time you seemed very happy. I felt that you were in love with me,” I said.
“I was, but shortly after we were married, I decided I needed to leave and return to Switzerland and live with Daniel where I’d be safe. The deaths of my parents changed my life forever. You have no idea what that did to me. I’m no longer the sweet and innocent girl whom you fell in love with. I’m sorry you had to become a casualty of my unfortunate circumstances.”
“Before you kill me and jet off to Switzerland, I have a confession to make.”
“I have a plane to catch,” she said as if in a great hurry.
“The love I’ve felt for you was real, right from the moment I saw you standing in front of that storefront boutique many years ago. When we recently reconnected, I wanted to believe that the love we once had together was still there. I realize now that you really have changed. The tragic killing of your parents was the death knell of any possibility of you ever finding true love again. You’re consumed with hatred. I regret the killing of your parents, and the loss of your love that we could’ve shared. I feel you still love me, and that you too regret the unfortunate circumstances that we both find ourselves in.”
A few teardrops rolled down her sad face.
“Having said that, I can’t allow you to leave this apartment, given your inexcusable involvement in those horrific crimes. You know that, don’t you?”
Caroline looked at me with sheer defiance. She refused to acknowledge my plea for her to surrender.
“Shoot me now or surrender!” I shouted.
She continued to train the gun on me but didn’t lift a finger to end my life.
“You do love me. You can’t bring yourself to kill me, because a part of you would die as well. Isn’t that right?”
Gentle tears continued to roll down Caroline’s saddened face. My former soulmate was faced with the dilemma of surrendering to the truth or remaining a prisoner of the past. “Why did I ever allow myself to fall in love with you again? I hate you!” she screamed.
“You asked me earlier how I knew that you were carrying the Colonel’s baby. Now I’ll tell you. When you first told me that you were pregnant with my child on the day you were taken to jail, I was taken aback. I didn’t believe you at first, and this is the reason: All my life I’ve had a naturally occurring low sperm count. I didn’t believe that I could conceive a child. On the very day you were released from prison, I decided to get myself retested at the local hospital. I wanted to see for myself if my condition had miraculously changed. Unfortunately, it was the same. I’m still unable to conceive.
“Naturally, I was curious who the father of your baby was. I wanted to know why you were lying and decided to play along with you to get some answers. Through some detective work just after your release from jail, I discovered, with the help of my friends at the hospital you stayed at, the connection between you, Colonel Richards, and the baby through hospital blood records.”
“I don’t believe you. I had no invasive tests done at that hospital; no amniotic fluid was taken from the fetus.”
“That’s all true. But in analyzing a sample of your blood in the lab, I did find a small trace of fetal DNA. And that DNA was a positive match with Colonel Richards. I took a swab of DNA off of one of his cigars. It was then I figured out that you were the genius behind the Shadow Stalker killings. To prevent you from fleeing the city, I decided to change my original wedding plan for us, and I arranged a fake marriage ceremony in Juniper instead. I wanted to keep you close. I knew you wouldn’t flee the city or the country until I put Colonel Richards behind bars. Given your brilliance, it was the only way to secure your capture.”
“Very good,” she said. Suddenly her full-blown temper and emotional fury was upon me. “You bastard!” The explosion of her rage reverberated loudly throughout the large living room. Caroline picked up a bowl, my favorite blue and orange one, and threw it hard against the wall, smashing it to pieces, then cocked my service revolver and stared right into my eyes. “Goodbye, Jim.”
“Oh, by the way, Caroline, if all you have to kill me with is my service revolver, then I’m afraid you can’t.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Today I left my service revolver here at Highgate on purpose. I took the liberty of confiscating the real bullets from my gun and put in blanks, just like I did with Colonel Richards. Being a careful woman, I’m sure you checked my gun and saw the blanks that I had put in. You removed those blanks and refilled the gun with more blanks that I purposely hid and left for you to find. By using a hardened gelatinous material and painting those custom-made blanks, they were indistinguishable from real bullets. Oh, and hopefully now you won’t try to poke my eye out with that fire poker over there like he tried to do.”
“What?” she said in a panicked voice.
“When I brought in your lover boy the Colonel, the old fool tried to kill me with a fire poker. It didn’t do him any good then, and it won’t do you any good now. And one final thing for you to think about: Before I left the Colonel’s house, I instructed the police to follow me here. I gave them a key to the back entrance of this building with special instructions on how to enter the secret access panel I installed in this apartment many years ago. You see, my darling, genius trumps brilliance.”
I called out loudly, and the police entered the large living room from the rear and surrounded her. Caroline looked at me and smiled. She never fired a single shot, releasing the gun to me. I could see that she was still wearing the diamond engagement ring that I’d given to her in the cabin. Caroline had a look of deep and pained sadness on her face.
“Please, officer, no handcuffs,” she said.
As she passed by me on her way out the door, she reached for me. “Take this ring,” she said. I told her that I really did love her and thanked her. She managed to smile for me one last time as she was escorted out of the room by the police. On his way out of my apartment, I grabbed Brandon. I thanked him for all his help, and reluctantly handed him the tape I made of Caroline’s admission of guilt. I couldn’t help but shed a tear as the door to my apartment closed. I looked down on the floor at the shiny blue and orange shattered ceramic bowl my mother gave to me just before she passed away. That bowl had meant so much to me for so long, but now I realized that the past was over, and I had come to terms with it.
I left my apartment and drove to the countryside. The snow-covered hills glistened like diamonds in the strong sunlight. I returned to The Cathedral of the Pines to commune with nature and God. Naturally, I was saddened and heartbroken by how my relationship with Caroline ended. Still, I felt reinvigorated by the experience of how her love had changed my life. She’d been the catalyst in expunging the scary childhood demons from my mind. For several years she was my soulmate, and now I owed Caroline a special debt of gratitude.
Walking in the woods, I looked up through the multicolored Cathedral Dome at the very tops of the whispering pines. The chilled air excited my senses. The brilliant and warm sunlight was streaming down with joyous rays of filtered golden light in the most indescribable hues of colors imaginable. I exhaled slowly, finally feeling at peace with myself and my surroundings.
I lingered in the woods, reflecting upon the times when Caroline and I seemed so happy together. In the beginning, our love was innocent, as we happily strolled the crowded city streets without a care in the world. And, as time went by, I really believed that someday we would be married and in love. Today all of those dreams had been shattered by a woman that I never really knew. Caroline was a monster who did the unthinkable to so many innocent and loving people. And yet, in my heart, I still wanted to forgive her for what she did, but I knew that I never could.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
When I returned home from my exhilarating walk in the woods, I received a phone call from Brandon at police headquarters. “Are both prisoners safely tucked away?” I asked.
“Yes, they’ve been recently
moved to maximum security, but not before a little excitement here at headquarters.”
“What do you mean?”
“As the Colonel was brought inside the station, he somehow managed to get hold of a security officer’s gun. He got a few shots off before he was subdued. For several moments he gave us all quite a scare. Fortunately, no one was hurt.”
“I’m not surprised. Brandon, Colonel Richards is a very dangerous man.”
“Don’t worry, Jimmy, I’ll keep an eye on both of them.”
“Keep me posted,” I said and hung up the phone. Given the renewed media frenzy surrounding the captured killers, I knew it would likely be many months before they’d stand trial for their crimes.
With Caroline and the Colonel in jail, this phase of the Shadow Stalker ordeal was finally over. The next phase would be the trial, then sentencing. It would be hard for me to testify against the woman I’d loved for several years, but everyone wanted justice, including me.
As the days passed, I was absorbed in reflection. A remarkable change came over me: I had nothing to do. For the past several months, I poured all of my energy into solving these bombings. Each day I felt compelled to find and jail the killer. But now, I walked around Highgate like a zombie. I decided to take a few days off from work. I spent time with friends, and we went out to eat. I kept thinking about Caroline. I wanted to see her in jail, but I was still struggling with my feelings for her; how she’d deceived me with her lies, and that she was carrying the Colonel’s baby. God, that really hurt, like someone stuck a knife in my gut.
The next day I received terrible news: My uncle had passed away. He’d suffered a massive heart attack while out of the country on business. The sudden passing of his life was inconsolably heartrending. The man who was like a father to me was gone. I spent time reminiscing about the happy experiences we shared. The loss of Uncle William pierced my wounded heart. I regretted that I never got the chance to say goodbye to him.
After hours of grief-stricken sadness, I arranged for my uncle’s funeral. I was his only living relative and happy to be of whatever help I could. His body was flown in and received by me at the airport. I had to scramble to complete all of the arrangements for the service and burial. Uncle Willy and his brother Jack had grown up in the beautiful countryside of Hillsboro, not far from the city. As a boy, I would often visit my uncle at my grandparent’s lovely farm in Lancaster. The rolling hills, verdant with summertime pastureland, flooded me now with memories of the wonderful times I shared with Uncle Willy. It would be here, in the quiet hills of the countryside, that my uncle would be buried.
The service for William P. Watson was held in Bridgestone Hall, in the Shrine of the Immaculate. My uncle had a particular fascination with this famed shrine. He once told me on a walk through the city that my grandmother liked taking him there. He was in love with that magnificent architectural masterpiece and said, “James, when I pass through this life, this is where I want to be remembered.” I never forgot that.
The Saturday service was attended by many of my uncle’s close friends and acquaintances. His many financial donations through the years were much appreciated. The people he knew and helped throughout his long life came from far and wide to pay their respects. The culmination of love that others showed my uncle was seen in a sea of humanity, all crowded into that small but lovely shrine. The heartfelt condolences expressed to me, and the respect these people showed for the still body within the draped coffin was touching.
It was never about the greedy acquisition of money that drove my uncle; he knew better than that. It was always about helping people with their struggles, and his love for humanity. He could see beyond the trivial to what was really important. People came to honor him and recognize his many charitable contributions to help the needy. William P. Watson had lived a full and generous life.
There were many speakers at his service. I waited my turn to speak. My uncle’s many trips around the world brought a diverse group of people. I listened as many distinguished speakers spoke of the kindness and generosity Uncle Willy showed to so many people during his remarkable life. It was staggering how little I knew about his accomplishments in the world of business and the various charities that he had helped support. I knew him only as a loving and giving person who supported me in my life’s endeavors. I liked being around my uncle, doing enjoyable things together that always seem to stand out decades later in quiet reflection. Soon it was my turn to speak. I slowly walked to the lectern collecting a lifetime of thoughts and feelings. I put down my water glass, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
I looked out into the crowded hall and felt my uncle’s loving presence. “My name is James Watson. My uncle was my best friend. Uncle Willy was a good man who deeply cared for everyone he met. Many of you here today knew my uncle as a kind and generous man. He was a simple man at heart. I remember as a boy taking long walks with him in the woods. He’d always point out the beauty in nature and marvel at nature’s gifts. Uncle Willy encouraged my curiosity about life. He taught me that in living there is always giving. He was rich in spirit. He had a zest for life and was curious about how things worked. Both his public and private life were concerned with the people he cared for and admired. My uncle never married, but he loved people. He taught me many important lessons about life. Later, when my dad left my mom, he stepped in to mentor me like a father. Uncle Willy, or Uncle Wily as I used to call him, always took the initiative. If there was something that had to get done, he’d do it. If a troubled person needed help, he’d be there. My uncle never missed an opportunity to help someone. He believed that helping others is a gift. He understood that we are all linked in the web of eternal life.”
I paused to take a sip of water.
“His kind and gentle spirit touched all of us. My uncle never burdened me or others with his troubles, frustration or pain. He was an arthritic much later in life, but that condition didn’t stop him. My uncle showed me how to accomplish things when I didn’t think I could. Thank you, Uncle Willy, for the kindness and wisdom you shared with all of us here today. The beauty that rests within your soul still lives within mine. You have now passed into a rarified dimension of love and light that we here on earth will never know until we experience it for ourselves. May your spirit linger over us and teach us the wisdom of kindness. You are now with God, reunited with loving family. We say goodbye for now, but surely know that we’ll all meet again. Thank you for being there when I most needed you.” I choked up as I looked out the stained-glass windows and returned to my seat.
The service for my uncle continued with music and concluded with the Lord’s prayer. I stood up with the heavy burden of grief and sadness I was carrying and attended the large reception. I tried to hold it together for as long as I could. The burial was in Guildon Cemetery in Lancaster. He was buried next to his parents in a simple grave. His gravestone read: “Here lies William Prentiss Watson, loving son, uncle and humanitarian.” His final resting place was among the hills that he enjoyed playing in as a little boy.
I returned to Highgate after the burial. I still felt sad, but thanks to Caroline, I was no longer haunted by the emotional demons of my past. I felt whole and alive. I’m sure Uncle Willy would approve. “Bravo, James, that’s how we Watsons do it,” he’d say. I poured some whiskey, then retreated into my study. With the memories of his funeral still fresh in my mind, I cried.
The next day, I contacted my uncle’s lawyer concerning Willy’s estate. The law firm was located right here in the city. I made an appointment to go over my uncle’s will. I met with lead attorney John Malcolm and spent two hours discussing all the details. My uncle was indeed a very wealthy man. In his will, he left millions of dollars to charities and organizations that he deeply cared for and wanted to help. Throughout his long life, he’d supported many wonderful charities, giving money to causes that he strongly believed in. My uncle loved me very much, for he left me a considerable fortune as well. The only stipulation was that
I’d use some of the money to do good in the world. Now, thanks to my inheritance, I’d finally be able to help the poor people who struggle so hard to survive in an indifferent world.
There were many properties and investments that needed to be sold and liquidated. The details of all this would take time to complete. Certain monies from my uncle’s estate, however, passed into my possession immediately. Other investments and properties would pass to me later. I signed several documents of transfer and was about to leave his office. On the way out the door, Mr. Malcolm handed me a handwritten letter from my uncle. I grasped the letter tightly.
“I knew your uncle for many years. He used my law firm to handle many of his business ventures. He was a remarkable man, and I went to see him in the hospital recently when he became seriously ill. The end of his life was swift; he was in no pain. Before he died, he spoke to me about you. He loved you a great deal and used to brag to everyone that he had a genius for a nephew. Just before he passed away, he handed me the letter you’re now holding.”
I put down my briefcase and hugged Mr. Malcolm, thanking him for all he did on behalf of my uncle. I left his office and waited until I arrived home before opening the letter. After making some coffee I went into my study and opened it. The letter read as follows: “My dear loving nephew James, by now you must be feeling terribly sad over my death. I’ve lived my life with few regrets. For years I did much to lessen the burden of suffering for the less fortunate. For some of us, my dear nephew, life is never long enough. Each of us needs time to accomplish what we were put on this earth to do. I’ve tried to do my part. I’m sorry I missed your marriage to that young woman, but fate had other plans for me.” I paused for a moment to wipe away my tears, then I continued reading.
“You must soldier on now without me. I ask that you forgive your father for abandoning you and Cecile in the way he did. When I see Jack, I’ll straighten him out. Your father loved you more than you’ll ever know, despite how you might have felt growing up. Stay strong and be true to your feelings. You are, after all, a Watson. And when it’s time for you to follow the path that fate has in store for each of us, I’ll be waiting here on the other side with the others to greet and welcome you into eternity. Until that blessed day, make me proud of what you accomplish with your life, and never look back with regret. With much love and admiration, Uncle Willy.”
Shadow Stalker Page 12
