The Devil's Grip: The Curse of Stone Falls

by Steven Swaks

  “That’s a whole lot of tape.”

  “You do the math,” Delano said before slurping his hot coffee. He ushered the young officer in his office and closed the door behind him. The detective picked up a picture and sat on his desk. “We need to check the whereabouts of this guy, Jeffrey Simons. We know he went to the concession stands at around 6:45, but we don’t know if he went to see a movie, and even if he did, we need to make sure that he stayed in there the entire time.”

  “Sir, I don’t think they have surveillance cameras in the theater.”

  “Not in the theater, but in the main corridor, the lobby, outside by the emergency exits, and on the parking lot. If that Simons entered the theater, there’s no way he came out without being spotted. That’s where you come in.”

  “Uh, sir, I have to go on patrol.”

  “I talked to the chief. He knows about it. You’re all mine.”

  “What about the office clerks? Can’t they do it?”

  “They’re already swamped as it is. Adel is training a newbie, and Sophie called in sick. You’re mine, Gonzales. There’s no getting out of it.”

  Officer Gonzales stayed professional, but his sunken facial expression said it all.

  “Look, I know it’s a crappy assignment, but it’s a big deal. We need to catch the bastard who killed that poor girl in the woods. You’ve seen her.”

  “That’s fine, sir.”

  “I appreciate it. Go get a coffee, and let me know as soon as you find something. The tapes are already in the video room.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Jeffrey Simons was one possibility. The other? That Leader kid and his buddies. Delano didn’t see that scenario, but if he had learned one thing from police work, it was to never assume anything.

  Simons was under way, the kids were next on the list. The Leader was easy to track down. Anybody stupid enough to send threating texts to his victim was asking to get caught. It took him exactly 17 minutes to find his name and address (which included pouring himself another cup of coffee and a quick chat with an officer).

  The Leader’s name was Clarence Whitney. Clarence? No wonder why the kid’s messed up, Delano thought. The Detective scrolled down his police file. He was not a godfather, but he already had a prior, nothing making headlines, a couple of trespassings in abandoned buildings, a street fight, but no known drugs nor gang affiliations.

  He consulted his watch, 10:35 AM. It was too early to go to school. It was bad business practice to show up during class time. He would wait until the kids came out to talk to him. The move would be smoother. Besides, he would follow the kid for a bit to get a sense of what he was all about before talking to him.

  3:00 PM. The automatic high school bell rang at the exact time. Delano waited across the street in his black Crown Victoria, picture of Clarence Whitney in hand. Police work nowadays was much easier than it used to be. With Facebook and Instagram, Delano knew not only what the kid looked like (fifty pictures were better than a single DMV ID or a mug shot), but he knew how he dressed, who his friends were, where they hung out, down to the food they ate.

  Hordes of exuberant teenagers walked out of the school: boys holding girl’s hands, girls holding girl’s hands, skinny nerds and big jocks, clean-cut students waiting for college, and promiscuous girls showing too much skin before they became pregnant. Half of them were glued to their cell phones. They hardly talked to each other like a bunch of zombies. Delano felt sorry for them and their virtual reality. Soon, that would be the only thing they’d have left anyway.

  A group of three boys walked out of the main entrance. Hoods, baggy pants, they matched the description down to the chain hanging off Clarence Whitney’s jeans.

  The detective stayed behind the wheel. There was no rush, no need to jump in and ask questions. He left his engine running. He didn’t even know why, perhaps by habit from the days in gangland.

  The trio walked for a while on the other side of the street, mostly empty backpacks hanging on their shoulders.

  Delano didn’t let them out of his sight, his Crown Victoria slithering along the empty curb like a snake waiting to strike.

  They turned at a street corner, walking at a slow pace. They laughed at inaudible jokes, and enjoyed the innocence of their youth before the hard reality of life hit them in the face.

  It didn’t take long before they made a juvenile move. The three boys stopped by a younger kid, a freshman probably. By now, the tree-covered residential street was mostly devoid of any kind of traffic aside from an occasional student walking by himself.

  From the opposite side of the street, the detective couldn’t hear what was going on, but he could tell the young boy wasn’t a willing participant in the conversation. The three seniors were facing him in a provocative stance, arm extended in front of them. The Leader slightly pushed the frightened teen on the shoulder.

  “That’s enough,” Delano told himself. He switched the gear on drive and thrust the heavy sedan forward, steady burning red light on behind the windshield. He grossly parked on the other side of the street and stepped out of his car with ease for his large size. A taste of disgust simmered in his mouth. He didn’t even look at the three bullies. “Are you ok, kiddo?”

  The young teen appeared even more frightened for an instant. He glanced at the Leader who gave him a cold stare in return. “I’m… fine… sir.”

  “This is my card,” he took a business card out of his thick wallet. “I’m Detective Jack Delano, Stone Falls PD. If those boys ever bother you again, you give me a call. I’ll deal with them.” The young boy nodded, unsure how to react. “Did you hear that, Clarence? You mess with him, you mess with me. Got it?”

  The boy didn’t answer in surprise.

  “What? You thought I didn’t know your name, buddy?” Delano didn’t wait for an answer and glanced at the kid. “You can go home. I need to have a li’l chat with my new friends here.”

  The young boy briefly looked at them with concerned eyes. He turned around and scampered down the street until he disappeared around a residential street corner.

  “All right, you two take a hike, but not that way,” Delano pointed in the direction where the young boy had disappeared.

  “But–” One of the two started to say.

  “There’s no but. Get out of here or I book you for obstruction of justice.”

  “For what crime?” one of the two said.

  “Well, stay here and you’ll find out.”

  The two looked at each other. “See you tomorrow, Chongo.”

  “Chongo? Seriously?” Delano asked, amused.

  “That beats my crappy name,” Clarence said while looking at his friends leaving.

  “I give you that. So what’s this? You walk to school now? Where’s your car?”

  “Ain’t going to spend gas money to drive to school.”

  “And it’s better for the planet. What a good citizen you are.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Anyway, like I said, you and I need to talk.”

  “What about?”

  “Jessica Miller.”

  “Don’t know the girl, and ain’t nothing to say.”

  “Look, big guy, we can have a friendly chat here, or I can take you to the station for interrogation, your call. But if you continue down that path, I’m going to arrest you for harassment and obstruction of justice in a murder case–”

  “You can’t do that,” he shook his head, “I’m in high school.”

  “So? And with your past you want me to think that you don’t know any better? Are you kidding me? I can arrest any suspect at any age. And you’re eighteen, buddy. I don’t even need to inform your folks. They can find out once you give them a call from jail.”

  “And what obstruction? What did I do?”

  “Well, son, you’re not cooperating right now, are you?”

  “Uh…” the next word died in his stifled throat. “But I ain’t harassing nobody.”

  “Little Timmy over
there is surely not a big fan of yours, I can guarantee you that. But that’s not the worst. You’re an inch from becoming my prime suspect in a murder case,” his thumb and index finger came together to highlight the small distance.

  “Murder?” His face contorted, “what are you talking about?”

  “Threats to the sister of a murdered girl don’t look too good in a court of law.”

  Clarence pursed his lips. “What do you want?”

  “Atta boy. Does the name Tracy Miller ring a bell?”

  “Sure…”

  “I need more than that.”

  “I met her once with her dufus of a boyfriend.”

  “Where?”

  “At the abandoned mill.”

  “And?” his hand wind-milled.

  “We were bored; we wanted to mess with them. That’s all.”

  “What about the texts?”

  “What texts?”

  “Don’t play dumb on me, Bongo.”

  “It’s Chongo.”

  “For me, you’re a Clarence Whitney, my next suspect who’s going to get his little white butt in the county jail. I’m sure you’re going to be very popular down there, Chongo.”

  “Man, I knew that chick was bad news,” The Leader shook his head and looked further down the street to delay his answer.

  “You got that right, Bingo. Talk to me.”

  “It’s Chongo. It was nothing. I just wanted her to trip out. That’s it, man.”

  “I’ve read your texts.”

  “You did? Did she show you?”

  “You would be amazed what you can get from the phone companies nowadays.”

  “Then you saw that was no big deal.”

  “I’m going to ride you, can be a big deal when you’re a lone girl with three guys on your back.”

  “We would’ve never touched her. We’ve never done anything to any chick. You’d be the first one to know that, man, you’re a cop.”

  “That’s right, not that we know of.”

  “Man, you know it! Come on!”

  “I know that you and your buddies like to mess with people, especially smaller kids and girls. That’s brave.”

  Clarence stayed quiet.

  “Talk to me about Jessica Miller. Did you know her?”

  “I’ve seen her a few times in school. But I’ve never talked to her. She was as stiff as a broomstick, a real nerd, church going and stuff.”

  “Where were you the night she died?”

  “I was with my homies outside the 7-11 on Brookstone.”

  “Drinking lemonade?”

  The Leader chuckled. “Yeah, sure, lemonade.” His grin vanished. “You can ask the owner. He got all pissy ‘cause he said we were scaring off his customers. Dumb retard, we were just chillin.’ We said nothin’ to nobody.”

  “You bet I’ll check on that. When did you get there? How long did you stay?”

  “I ain’t no stinking train driver. I dunno.”

  “Clarence, don’t make yourself dumber than you are.”

  We got there at 6:00 something. We stayed for a couple of hours.”

  “Look, Chimichanga–”

  “Chongo,” the Leader corrected him.

  “Chongo. Do I think you killed that girl? No, I don’t. I think that you’re a nice guy bored out of his wits and has nothing better to do than scare off some underweight freshman. The dirt bag who killed Jessica Miller took his time before he killed her. I’m not going to give you details, but I don’t want this to happen to another girl. Work with me here. Keep your ears open. You know people in the street. Give me a call once in a while, and tell me what you find out,” Delano handed him his card.

  “I’m no snitch,” the Leader stepped back shaking his head.

  “I’m not asking you to snitch out on some low-life junky. I’m asking you to help solve the gruesome murder of an innocent girl.”

  The teenager scanned the detective’s face. “I’ll let you know if I hear something, but you keep it to yourself, bro. Don’t even tell my homies.” He snatched the business card out of his hands.

  “You got it.”

  Black Robe

  “You did what?” Ben asked with eyeballs the size of the Hollywood Bowl.

  “I’ve contacted a Catholic priest to come over to exorcise the station,” Alex repeated calmly from the recreation room’s recliner.

  “You’re nuts,” Ben said shaking his head in slow motion. “When is the guy coming?”

  “The guy, like you say, is a priest.”

  “Whatever, when is he coming?”

  “Tonight–”

  Ben’s head recoiled toward his partner. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You lost your mind. If management finds out, we’re both fired.” He looked at the small recreation room’s door as if their operation manager was about to barge in. “But you know what? I don’t care. That’s fine. Jennifer won’t even let him in. It’s against company policy to have non-employees in the station after hours.” Ben relaxed back in his recliner.

  “She’s on board with it.”

  “She’s on board? Are you kidding? Miss Down-to-Earth is on board to bring a clown in the station and spray water on the walls? Are you two insane? What are we going to do next? Buddha chanting? Do you want me to sing Hare Krishna since we are at it?” Ben turned the television off and tossed the remote on the older coffee table.

  “We’ve already made up our minds, Ben.”

  “Thanks for talking about it behind my back and letting me know at the last minute. I appreciate it.”

  “Ben–”

  “So, it’s that simple? You’ve made up your mind and I’ve no say in this?”

  “Not really,” Alex said with an indifferent stare. “I knew you would be against it anyway.”

  “No shit, Bill. Of course I’m against it. You’re putting my job on the line for your little spiritual stunt. You would think you’d let me know after working so long together. Talk about team work.”

  “Like I said, we knew you would refuse.” Alex’s eyes stayed locked on Ben.

  “What time is the dude coming?”

  “Before midnight.”

  “We’re going to make it a midnight deal. This is… I don’t even have a word for this joke.”

  “Father Louis thinks it is more appropriate at that time.”

  “Father Louis? Where did you find this guy? In the yellow pages? What did you look under? Exorcism for nuts?”

  “I contacted the diocese, but they raised some red flags, they were asking for a psychological evaluation…”

  Ben choked on the Coke he was drinking. “I’m glad somebody had some sense! Where did you even find him then?”

  “Father Louis is, uh, he–”

  “Spit it out,” Ben leaned his elbow on the recliners’ armrest.

  “He isn’t really ordained.”

  “Not really ordained? What do you mean? You’re ordained or you’re not. It’s black or white, there’s no gray in there, buddy. You’re either married or you’re not. You’re not halfway married.”

  “He was asked to leave the school.”

  “They asked him to leave the school? You’ve got to be joking!” Ben hit the thick armrest. “They kicked him out of seminary? Why?”

  “He, uh, the school said they caught him… smoking illegal substances.”

  Ben exploded in uncontrolled laughter. “No way! You, Mister Goody-Goody, found a weed-smoking reject from seminary school! This is great! I wouldn’t even have thought of that one!”

  Alex stayed stoic.

  “I got to see this! This is going to be good! And Father Louis, the dude, isn’t even a priest. What’s his name? John?”

  “Michael.”

  “Michael? This is too much, Alex.” Ben’s face straightened out. “What happened to you, man? You would never have done that before.”

  “Before? Before what? You mean, before Gina?” Alex looked at him with a soft eye. “I can’t deal with this anymore, all those deaths, thi
s station…” his arms opened to show the walls around them. “I’m dreading coming in here every night. I can’t do it anymore, Ben.”

  “I’ll be there for you, buddy… but don’t expect me to buy that pseudo-priest thing.”

  “He’s here,” Jennifer said in a calm voice in the station’s overhead speakers.

  “Let the fun begin,” Ben said leaving his recliner.

  Alex consulted his watch, 11:40 PM. “At least, he’s on time.”

  The two paramedics walked out of the recreation room. Ben was first in line, curious to see what would happen.

  Alex was calm, at least in appearance. Just like when he was a new medic, stay calm in front of the chaos, the screaming patients and hysterical family members.

  The priest appeared at the end of the corridor, his long black robe almost touching the thin carpet.

  Ben stopped where he was. The so-called priest belonged to a summer camp, the kind of beach bum who spends his time surfing during the day and drinking beer at night. His curly blond hair fell a few inches above his shoulders and beard stubble punctured his juvenile face. He pulled on a Roman collar slightly too small for his neck size. It was either that, or he wasn’t used to wearing it.

  Alex’s mouth opened slowly. His lower jaw stayed down for a while.

  “Hi! I’m Father Louis! Are you Alex?” he said extending his hand to Ben.

  “Wrong one, Michael. I’m Ben, Alex is right there,” his thumb jerked above his shoulder.

  “No sweat. I’m Father Louis, but you can call me Mike if you want.” The young man shook his hand and turned to Alex.

  “You two have never even met?” Ben asked his partner without expecting an obvious answer. “This is getting better and better.”

  “It’s cool, we have to entrust the power of the Lord.” He tapped Alex on the arm and shook his hand. “I’m all good to go! Where do we start?”

  Alex stayed quiet.

  “Have you done this before, Father Louis?” Ben asked.

  “Uh, I’ve read a lot about it.”

  “So, you’ve never done an exorcism.”

  “Well, they’re kinda hard to come around. I did it on a cat, once. The little fella was going bonkers before I worked on him. I’ve never done it on people, or buildings, though. But that’s cool. I can wing it. I want to specialize in it.”