Shadow Stalker

by D W Cooperstein

  I knew Neilson was caught in the middle between city politicians and the press. The public was still on the edge of despair, despite all of the incredible resources being used to find Colonel Richards. Captain Neilson was doing his very best to work with all parties involved. It wasn’t easy for him to deal with city government. Certain politicians, including Mayor Cannel, were coming up for reelection soon, and they could put considerable pressure on departments across the city to conform to their wishes. This was just the way it was in big city politics. I felt sorry for Dave being caught in the middle of all this. He was trying to do his job, but his hands were tied. These stories in the press would surely give the police department a black eye with the voters, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I kept a watchful eye on unfolding events.

  Several more weeks passed. Not a peep was heard from the Colonel. The city funds for continuing his manhunt were almost exhausted. I wondered where he was getting the money to live, if he was still hiding in the city. All of his known bank accounts and safety deposit boxes had been frozen at the time of his capture. He had nothing of value when he was in jail, and his house in Chilblain was constantly watched. The security officers watching the house reported that no one was seen approaching his property. For a man who inherited a fortune, he was now reduced to want. How sad for this man I once called my friend. He was no better off than a beggar in the street, living each day hand to mouth in the hidden shadows of the city. After a while, I stopped looking for him. Despite all the misery and death, he caused, it now seemed likely that Colonel Richards had escaped, having the last laugh on all of us.

  After some errands, I returned to a wonderful meal that Angie had prepared. She told me that Marilyn and the girls were doing just fine. Brandon had left the hospital and was home, recuperating with his family. My wife was planning a dinner party later in the week for several very close friends. She wanted me to pick up some items and call the caterer. I promised to do that. I also needed to get theater tickets for the play Gilbert and Roan. I’d always had a fascination with the theater, and I’d been looking forward to this play for some time.

  The next day, my lawyer called. He wanted to meet with me to sign some documents concerning my uncle’s estate. Robert drove me to Malcolm’s law firm. I met with John in his private office. We went over the paperwork concerning the charitable organizations my uncle supported. It was at this meeting I learned Uncle Willy left an estate worth more than eighty-million dollars. No one in my family had ever dreamed that Uncle Willy had acquired so much wealth. My uncle had acquired hundreds of acres of land with valuable mineral rights and had other vast real estate holdings. He was also brilliant at investing in the stock market. It was no wonder that he had amassed so much wealth. After spending two hours with John, I shook his hand and left the office.

  After returning to Highgate, I relaxed in front of the television with Angie by my side. I told her the news about my uncle. I think she was as shocked as I was. “How did your uncle ever get so much money?” she asked.

  “My uncle was a very smart man. He could wheel and deal with the best of them, and always recognized a bargain when he saw it. I spent time with Mr. Malcolm going over the details concerning Willy’s estate. The bulk of his great fortune will be invested aggressively, and the proceeds will help many charitable organizations here and around the world. Still, my darling, we’ll be very wealthy.”

  For the most part, things returned to the way they were before the Captain was shot. I thought it might be good to take Angie to the countryside for a few days. I rented a lovely cabin in the hills, and we enjoyed the relaxing tranquility of nature. It felt good to be back in nature’s majestic cathedral. We walked the trails and gorged ourselves on the healthy organic produce, abundant in that area. Finally, we returned home.

  When we returned from our trip, we resumed our daily activities, no longer living in fear. Janice Blakemore, the police officer guarding my wife, was discharged from her duties. I felt her protection was no longer needed. Brandon had returned to work and was walking with a cane. I was glad to see him back at his old job. He kept me apprised of ongoing police business. Occasionally, he’d solicit my help on a few tough murder cases, but that’s all the detective work I wanted to do. As Angie and I went about our daily business the weeks kept flying by. It had been almost a year since the Colonel was first captured.

  I kept checking the daily newspapers, looking for subjects of interest. I often went to police headquarters to visit with Brandon. It was just like the old days when I worked at the Bureau. One day, I was visiting him at the police station when he spontaneously invited me out to Flanagan’s Bar for a drink with the boys. It was very tempting, but I had to say no. It was now approaching evening, and Angie was waiting for me at Highgate. She was cooking a special dinner, then we were looking forward to going to the movies with several close friends. I thanked Brandon for the invitation and took a rain check on Flanagan’s Bar.

  I decided to walk home. The cold air felt exhilarating, and the city was on the cusp of coming alive with activity. The bright lights of the theater district flashed before me as I walked by. Soon I’d be attending the much-heralded performance of Sonny Day Gone Wild. I couldn’t wait to see that great play. I felt the excitement as I walked by its glittering massive marquee, showering sparkling illumination all over me. I kept walking. Soon I turned onto Cromwell heading to South Highgate. Within minutes, I arrived at my apartment gate and climbed the seven steps leading to my front door. It was late November, and the first few snowflakes were swirling around in the grey sky. God, it was way too early in the season for this.

  I entered the bright and spacious foyer of my home and walked directly into the main living area. Angie was standing in the middle of the room, frozen. She looked at me with terror in her eyes. I glanced around the room and found nothing out of the ordinary. My gun was hidden in a small bureau in the bedroom closet. I asked my wife to come closer. She trembled as she walked toward me. I took her hand and held it firmly in mine. “My darling, you’re shaking, what’s the matter? Why are you so afraid?” I asked.

  Suddenly a large and dark figure hiding behind the massive drapes behind the sofa stepped forward. “Hello, Jimboy, so we meet again.” I stared in horror at the smug and conceited Colonel standing in front of me holding a gun. An intense current of anger surged throughout my entire body.

  “Stay by my side,” I told her.

  The Colonel pointed his gun directly at me. “Don’t worry, this time the bullets in my gun are real, and I plan to kill both of you.”

  “Oh, Jimmy,” Angie cried, “he told me that if I said anything, he’d kill you. I wanted to let you know he was hiding behind the curtains, but...I…”

  “Shut up, you bitch!” the Colonel screamed.

  “Don’t be frightened,” I said.

  The Colonel stepped into the middle of the room and slowly approached. His body reeked of booze. He patted me down, looking for a weapon, but found none. Then he stepped back away from us. “I heard you left the Bureau. How does it feel to be walking around without your gun?”

  I continued staring at him. The naturally suspicious and distrustful Colonel thought my apartment was booby-trapped, so he moved back into a far corner of the large living room. Holding the gun on me, he started laughing out loud. His uncontrollable laughter filled the apartment while Angie inched closer to the bedroom door.

  “Well, Jimboy, how does it feel to be moments away from death?” He again broke out in teary-eyed laughter, which momentarily distracted him from my wife. She threw a ceramic vase, hitting the Colonel’s arm and knocking the gun out of his hand. She ran into the bedroom, locking the door behind her.

  The stunned Colonel quickly grabbed the gun off the floor before I could reach it. “Get back!” he shouted, as he waved the gun in front of me. I complied. “Keep going!” He was wearing that familiar look on his snickering face as I slowly moved back away from him. “I’ve cut the phone lines in t
he bedroom. She won’t be able to call for help. It’s just the three of us in here now.”

  “Let my wife go. She’s done nothing to hurt you. You came here to kill me; isn’t that enough?”

  The Colonel paused to look around my apartment, then turned to me. He watched me carefully. “I hope you don’t have any more tricks up your sleeve.”

  “Well, Colonel, I must say that it’s good of you to pay me this final visit. I really thought you had left the city.”

  “Why would I want to leave this wonderful city with all these lovely people?”

  “It’s just as I expected. In this moment of sweet revenge, you’re as arrogant and calculating as ever. You escaped an imprisonment that surely would have sent you to the gallows. And yet, being a wealthy man, you could have easily escaped and lived anywhere on earth. Why didn’t you?”

  He just kept smiling. I looked at him in disgust. This arrogant and foolish man with revenge in his heart kept staring, snickering like a jackass.

  “With an army of police and law enforcement hunting you down, you managed to stay in the city for the sole purpose of coming after me. And you had help in your escape. When I went to your home in Chilblain, I noticed someone had previously entered the front door with a key, probably a spare hidden on the property, right?”

  “Yes, Jimmy Boy, you’re right again, as usual.” Colonel Richards paused for a moment. “All that damn security guard wanted from me was money. He went to my house looking for it. He kept badgering me, threatening to expose my escape plan unless I gave him what he wanted. I had to cooperate with his demands to get his help in my escape. Brewster was stupid. He went to my home searching for a pocketful of gold hidden in my safe, when I had millions of dollars’ worth of paintings and antiques sitting right in front of him. After I threw his body in the dumpster, I was through with his demands. He looked so cute, staring up at me, surrounded by all that garbage with a deadpan expression.” The Colonel started to laugh again until the tears rolled down his reddened face. “I underestimated you once, and it cost me months. I was locked in a dungeon of isolation, spending day after miserable day in that filthy stinking hole, thanks to you and Goloft. All I thought about was the day I’d escape and kill both of you. Unfortunately, Jimmy Boy, your day has arrived.” I braced myself as the Colonel’s sinister eyes narrowed, and he pointed the cocked gun at my heart.

  “What about Caroline?” I said.

  “She was nothing but my whore, a dirty little bitch who betrayed me.”

  “Is that why you killed her?”

  His upper lip began to twitch. “She was a liability. I certainly wasn’t going to take her with me. I never trusted her anyway.”

  “Did you know that she was carrying your baby?”

  “No,” the Colonel said. “I thought that baby was yours, but I was never sure. I suppose that’s why I killed her.”

  “So, Caroline played us both for fools.”

  “I hope she burns in hell. I should have never tied up with that witch,” he said.

  “Oh, really, Colonel? Did you know that she was just using you for her own evil purpose? When I finally put her in jail for good, she confessed everything to me. She told me how she used you to seek revenge for the deaths of her parents. She never loved you at all. She loved me. Caroline told me the reason you wanted me out of the Bureau was that you were in love with her. Is that true?”

  Colonel Richards stared with hatred in his bloodshot eyes. “Listen, asshole, I never loved that bitch. She meant nothing to me. She was just my whore; I told you. Besides, she’s dead now. What’s the point?” The Colonel looked at me and laughed. “After I kill you and your wife, I plan to leave the country,” he said in a loud and clear voice. His voice softened as he looked around my bright apartment. “Perhaps I’ll visit a quaint village overlooking the ocean and find people of good breeding like myself, people with a little je ne sais quoi. That, Jimmy, would be a refreshing change. I’m tired of hiding out in this stinking toilet you call a city. You’ve humiliated me, and now I’m going to kill you. And when those final moments arrive, I want you to feel this hot lead tearing through your body, while dying obliterates your consciousness, and every good memory of that slut you call a wife.” The Colonel looked in the direction of the closed bedroom door and smiled. “You know, Jimmy, after you’re dead, maybe I’ll break down that bedroom door and shake up Angie girl, if you know what I mean. What do you think about that?”

  When I thought about the people the Colonel had massacred in cold-blood, including Caroline, I began to tremble. I thought how this snickering monster shot my friend the Captain and almost killed him. But when he threatened to rape my wife, I lost it. A lifetime’s worth of rage came pouring out of me as I charged and lunged at him. With the Colonel distracted in teary-eyed laughter, I knew this was my only chance. The next moments became a blur. I remembered ducking from his gun. He shot again and hit me in the leg. Still, I tackled him and knocked the gun from his hand. I swept it across the floor as I wrestled him to the ground. I was in excruciating pain from my leg wound but used every last ounce of strength I had to keep him away from that gun. But as my strength began to leave me, I could no longer hold him back. “Angie, please, help me!” I cried out in the direction of the closed bedroom door. The Colonel put his large hands around my neck, strangling me. His death grip around my throat was suffocating. “Angie...” I tried calling out again.

  Soon I was gasping for air. And just when I thought I’d lose my battle with the Colonel, my wife stepped out from the bedroom. She was trembling, holding my service revolver with both hands. She found the gun in the bedroom closet as I was hoping she would. With tears in her eyes, she aimed the gun and pulled the trigger. Instantly the Colonel’s viselike grip around my throat relaxed. I could feel his heavy and stinking body roll off of me as I continued to gasp for air. He crawled on the floor trying to reach his gun, but Angie fired again. This time his whole body twitched violently, then lay motionless on the floor.

  Angie dropped the gun and ran to me in tears. She cradled my head in her loving hands, crying over me as she looked at the serious wound in my leg. The softness of her loving words and tender touch comforted me. I pulled myself up off the floor with her help. I held her as she brought me over to the sofa. I rested there in searing pain while she ran out and called the police from a neighbor’s apartment. Soon the medics and police arrived. I was taken to the hospital, Angie holding my hand tightly the entire way. Within minutes, the ambulance pulled into the emergency receiving area. I was quickly brought in and treated, glad to be alive.

  Brandon, walking with a cane, came to see me. I told him everything that happened. He seemed relieved that this nightmare was finally over. He spoke to Angie about the shooting, then left the hospital with several police officers. I felt much better with the painkilling medication.

  After my treatment, I was resting comfortably in bed. I learned from my wife how the Colonel accosted her outside the apartment. He forced his way inside the building, holding her at gunpoint. Angie was terrified he’d kill her at any moment, so she did everything he told her to do. The two of them waited for me to return home. The shadows in that part of the room made it difficult for me to see him hiding behind the curtains as I entered the living area. If it wasn’t for Angie’s quick thinking to run into the bedroom and lock the door, we’d both be dead.

  Soon I was moved into a private room in the hospital. After spending several days there, I was ready to go home. Angie was with me every step of the way in my slow and painful recovery. She attended to my every need, and it felt wonderful relaxing with her by my side. I thought about my mom and my dad, and Uncle Willy. I was happy now, for I’d finally come to terms with my demons. I realized that my family had never left me at all; they’d be with me forever in spirit. Now I was ready to fulfill my destiny. The time had come to realize my boyhood dream of becoming an independent sleuth. My wounded leg would soon be healed, and I wanted to begin my new adventure in li
fe. I’d aggressively capture the deranged, criminal members of society like Caroline and Colonel Richards who murdered dozens of people.

  But that was for another day. I relaxed at home with Angie by my side. She read to me one of my favorite Peter Davies’ detective stories. After the many years of pain and struggle, I felt my life was complete. Angelina was the angel the Lord had sent to love and protect me, and for this and so much more, I would be eternally grateful.