Apocalypse Island

by Hall, Mark Edward

“So people live there?”

  “Sure. Families of some of the original descendents are still there. They fish for lobsters and dig clams. But they keep to themselves. They’re very protective of their privacy. But now of course the island has been discovered by outsiders and slowly it’s being resettled with “respectable” citizens. You know, out-of-staters with enough money to buy up the oceanfront property.”

  “What about the orphanage fire?” Laura asked.

  “What about it?”

  “How did it happen?”

  Jennings shrugged his shoulders. “Accident. I don’t know. It was too late by the time the mainland got word.”

  “Jesus,” Laura whispered. “How many kids were in there?”

  “Quite a few from what I understand. Listen, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

  “Has anybody been out there and looked around, tried to find information on Wolf?”

  “I don’t think so. What would be the point?”

  “What would be the point?” Laura said in amazement. “What if someone out there knows Wolf? It might be a chance to find out a little more about his life.”

  “You’re blowing this out of proportion. I don’t even know if he’s from there. I want you to stay away from that island.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s not relevant, that’s why.”

  “I think it is.”

  “That’s an order. Understand?”

  “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “Everything we need to know is right here on the mainland. You can trust me on that. End of conversation.”

  But no way was Laura going to drop it. “Don’t you think that’s where you need to start if you want information on Wolf?”

  Jennings glared at the woman. “I told you, everything was destroyed. There are no records.”

  “What about staff members. Priests? Nuns? Surely some of them survived.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. And even if they did, they’re no longer on the island. They’ve gone on to assignments elsewhere.”

  “What about the Cathedral of St. John the Divine right here in Portland? That’s the church my mother used to take me to. Has anybody talked to anyone there about this?”

  Jennings squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

  “Rick, what’s going on?”

  “I can’t talk about this.”

  “Jesus, Rick, you brought me in to help with this case. How the hell am I supposed to do that when you’re not leveling with me?”

  “I just don’t know how relevant it all is.”

  “I think you do. I think you’re playing dodge ball.”

  It was a long moment before Jennings spoke. Laura saw his mind working behind those dark eyes of his. “Okay,” he said finally. “But everything I’m about to tell you is classified. Understand? You are not to repeat a single word of it to anyone.”

  “Classified? Jesus, Rick.”

  Jennings told her about the incident five years ago that had involved the feds. The manhunt for a supposed escaped con that had a shoe size about the same as their present suspect, and that there had been another much smaller shoe size in the immediate vicinity of the body. He told her about the feds and his men coming across a body that looked just like the bodies they were finding now. The knife wounds, the carved torso cross. And as he was spilling his guts he was wondering if it was a mistake.

  “And you think this isn’t relevant?” Laura said with incredulity.

  “Wait a minute,” Jennings said, holding up his hand. “What you don’t understand is it was never made public.”

  “You mean it was covered up. Why?”

  “The death was made public, but the way she died wasn’t. I don’t know why because I wasn’t in the loop. Very few people were. Rumor has it that it was a national security issue, and there was some sort of conspiracy between the feds, city hall and the local Catholic archdiocese.” Jennings’ face took on a dark cast. “If anyone finds out I talked to you about this, I’ll lose my job.”

  “This has something to do with Apocalypse Island, doesn’t it?”

  “No.”

  “Rick?”

  “Okay, Jesus, there were rumors flying around that the guy with the big feet was from the island.”

  “And you didn’t investigate?”

  “I couldn’t. You don’t understand, the case belonged to the feds and it was classified. We were warned off then just like you’re being warned off now. Stay away from it, Laura.”

  “Are you kidding?” Laura said. “This is major. This is crazy.”

  “Yeah, I know, but that’s the way it is. This present investigation cannot in any way be linked to that crime. I’ve been warned and now you’re being warned.”

  “Who warned you, Rick?”

  “Who do you think?” He pointed at the ceiling indicating the people upstairs.

  “You mean, Robeson, the chief?”

  Jennings narrowed his eyes. “You remember him?”

  “Of course I remember him. He was yours and dad’s boss. By the way, I bumped into him on the way in here. He looks the same, just older.”

  “He didn’t recognize you, did he?”

  “No, I don’t think so. He was talking to someone and I don’t think he even saw me.”

  “Good. Let’s leave it that way.”

  Laura leveled her gaze at Jennings. “Tell me something, Rick. If that nut job hadn’t discovered the body at the cemetery and posted pictures on the internet would we be having this conversation?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Christ, Rick.”

  “I’m way out on a limb here, girl.”

  “Yeah but I don’t understand why.”

  “You will. For now you’ll just have to trust me. I’m only one little fish swimming in a big sea of sharks.”

  “You said there was a lot of inbreeding on that island, that rumor is that some of the children grew horns and lived in caves—”

  Jennings face flushed. “The operative word is rumor—”

  “I know, but if there’s even one glimmer of truth in it, couldn’t that explain the giant guy? What if he was some sort of inbred? Or hybrid? What if there was more to it than that? And what the hell do the feds have to do with it? I’m confused here. Give me something.”

  Jennings face reddened. “I can’t, Laura.”

  “You said the feds were involved. What if they were trying to cover up some nasty little secret?”

  “Hold it.” Jennings held up his hand. “You’re making assumptions.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes you are. I don’t believe in conspiracy theories. You’re looking in the wrong direction.”

  “No, I’m looking in exactly the right direction. This whole case is right before your eyes and you’re not seeing it.”

  Jennings eyes narrowed to seething pinpricks. “I’m seeing a lot more than you think I’m seeing, but I told you, my hands are tied.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Laura fumed.

  “I can end your involvement right here and now,” Jennings said. “Is that what you want?”

  “Are you kidding, Rick? We’ve got a town full of gothic weirdoes, a serial killer that’s acting out some sort of religious hang-up, a giant, a dark and beautiful man, a mysterious island, and a conspiracy involving the feds and the Catholic archdiocese. This is an investigator’s wet dream. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Chapter 37

  Jennings paused for a long moment as he stared at Laura. “Then you’d better toe the line, girl. Under no circumstances are you to go rogue on me. I want to know up to the minute what you’re doing on this case and if it’s not to my liking I’m pulling you. Is that understood?”

  Laura nodded.

  “I mean it,” Jennings said.

  “I heard you, Rick. I’m not a fool.”

  “I know. I’m just worried about you. Your mother would kill me if anything happened to you while under my supervision.”
<
br />   “I’m a big girl now, Rick.”

  “I know, but I still worry about you.” Jennings sat back in his chair, crossed his arms and exhaled a long sigh. “By the way, how is your mom?”

  “She’s okay. You knew she remarried.”

  Jennings frowned. “I heard. Some sort of record exec or some such thing.”

  Laura stared blandly at Jennings. “He owns his own record label. I think she thought it would be a real safe choice after years of being a cop’s wife.”

  “Evidently you don’t agree.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Laura saw the look in Jennings’ eyes. “Listen, Rick, after dad died she lost her way for a while.”

  “Yeah, I know. Me too.”

  “You know, Rick...maybe if you’d been a little less distant, a little more...around...”

  “I fucked up,” Jennings said a little too defensively. “I’m not denying it. Your dad and I were like brothers. I couldn’t just...I had to keep my distance.”

  “Yeah, I know. She still loves you, Rick, I know she does. But I guess it’s just as well. She needed to get away from cops. You remember what happened after college when I decided to go to the academy.”

  “Yeah, she almost lost her mind.”

  Laura saw the fog of distant memory cloud Jennings’ eyes.

  “She’s still not very happy with me.”

  “So, how do you really feel about your mother’s new husband?”

  “Me? I think he’s a total asshole, but hey, I don’t get a vote.” Laura gave a crooked smile.

  “I hope she’s happy,” Jennings said.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Listen, Laura, when you see her again, tell her not a day goes by I don’t think about her.”

  “You could pick up the phone and tell her yourself, you know.”

  “Yeah, well, anyway...” Jennings’ voice had become a little hearty, a little bluff. He looked toward the window.

  “You okay, Rick?”

  “Sure. Listen, Laura, there’s something else I wanted to ask you. I know this might sound kind of stupid but, do you believe in the...supernatural?”

  Laura frowned. “What do mean?”

  Jennings sighed. “I’m not sure I should even mention this.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding, Rick! You can’t make a statement like that and just drop it.”

  “A moment ago I was telling you to be objective and now I’m talking about ghosts.”

  “Ghosts?”

  Jennings cleared his throat and his face took on a dark cast. “Please, hear me out.”

  Laura sat with her hands folded in her lap. “Sure.”

  “Yesterday morning at the city landfill when I was watching over the body of the latest victim, well, I got the feeling I wasn’t alone; I saw this white flash and had this strange feeling there was something there besides me and the dead woman.”

  “Something?” Laura said.

  “Yeah, something...I don’t know. Maybe something...evil.”

  “Evil?”

  “Shit, I’m not sure what I mean. This is going to sound totally crazy but it looked like the ghost of a woman. And the officer who was first on the scene said he saw exactly the same thing.”

  “You think this...ghost you saw was...real?”

  Jennings shook his head. “No. I don’t believe in ghosts. My intellect just won’t let me accept something like that. But the strange thing is, I saw the exact same thing at the first crime scene. And I’m telling you, it is something totally unprecedented in my experience. The young officer was really creeped out. And so was I. And I don’t get creeped out.”

  “Wow, Rick. A ghost?”

  “I know, but that’s the only way I can describe it.”

  “So you don’t believe it’s something supernatural?”

  “No. My logical mind won’t let me think in those terms. There’s got to be a sane explanation, but I just can’t put my finger on it. Let’s just say that it was something out of the ordinary. I’ve always been a staunch believer in the physical world. I guess I’m just too practical, and that’s why I’m so bothered. This whole case is spooking the shit out of me. Hell, it’s got the whole town spooked.”

  “So let me get this straight. You don’t think something supernatural is killing these women?”

  Jennings shook his head. “No.”

  “But you were just talking about ghosts.”

  Jennings bristled. “Listen, I don’t know what I saw. Something damned strange, that’s all, and somehow it all leads back to Wolf. I know it does. And I get the feeling that it’s connected in some way to that trial five years ago and the disappearance of the woman named Siri Donovan. That’s why I brought you in. I want you to get close to Wolf, find out all you can about him. I want to know what makes him tick. Even if Wolf isn’t the killer, I think he’s involved in some way. I want you to become his friend. Talk to him. Dig into his psyche. I get the feeling the key to everything is there.”

  “What makes you think he’ll go for me? Two women he’s had relationships with have been brutally murdered. Unless he’s the killer I get the feeling he won’t be interested in another relationship in a very long time.”

  “I don’t want you to have a relationship,” Jennings said. “I just want you to get to know him.”

  “How do you propose I do that?”

  “I don’t know. Become his friend.”

  “Friend?”

  “Yeah, make him think you’re interested, see what happens. If he’s not the killer then maybe he can lead us to whomever is. And Laura, I don’t have to stress the dangers involved here. He might very well be the murderer, or somebody may be watching him and killing his women. Christ, it could even be someone he’s close to, one of the guys in his band maybe.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “I don’t know what to believe, but if you become his friend you’ll be a target. I don’t think there’s any question about it. So whatever you do I want you to proceed with the utmost caution.”

  “So I’m bait, huh?”

  Jennings was silent for a long moment staring at Laura. “Yeah, I guess you are,” he said finally.

  “Why did you ask me to do this, Rick? Why not one of your own people?”

  “Couple of reasons. A lot of people in the downtown clubs know my officers, even the ones who work undercover. I want you to blend into the crowd. I don’t want to take any chances on you being fingered. The only ones who know about this are you and me, and I want to keep it that way.”

  “You brought me in without consulting your superiors?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Why?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  “Some of those officers remember me, Rick. I know Robeson does. Christ, I’m Jack Higgins’s daughter.”

  “You were in high school when your dad was killed and you and your mom moved away shortly after. You’re older. You look different. I know none of the newer people know who you are, and I seriously doubt any of the older guys would recognize you, and even if they did, it doesn’t matter. They don’t work the downtown scene.”

  “Cops talk, Rick.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry. If anyone sees us together we’re just old friends, okay? And it’s the truth.”

  Laura nodded. “You said there were a couple of reasons.”

  “Yeah, the second and biggest one is, I trust you.”

  “Rick,” Laura said cautiously, “you don’t suspect one of Portland’s finest, do you?”

  Jennings narrowed his eyes, his irritation at this particular inquiry evident. “I told you, these killings have got the entire city on edge. I just think we need some new blood. End of conversation.”

  “So you do suspect one of your own.”

  “Listen, Laura, I suspect everybody and anybody. I honestly don’t know what to think. I told you, I’m a little spooked. Let’s just leave it there for now, okay?”

  Laura n
odded.

  “And Laura, be on the lookout for anything unusual.”

  “Unusual, Rick?”

  “You know, what we talked about a moment ago.”

  “Ghosts?”

  Jennings cleared his throat as his face began to redden. “Anything unusual.”

  “Okay, cave beasts with horns.”

  “I’m gonna kick your ass.”

  Laura smiled. “Wouldn’t be the first time, Uncle Rick.”

  “I want you to start tonight,” Jennings said. “Now I’ve already briefed you on where his band will be playing. Make sure you look the part. You know, dress up like a groupie.”

  “You mean like one of those goth chicks?”

  “No, no, do it a little classier. See if he’s interested in anything besides damaged goods. And, Laura?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I want you to come to my apartment an hour before you go out. You’re wearing a wire.”

  Laura frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Not negotiable,” Jennings said.

  Detective Laura Higgins agreed and left Jennings’ office.

  Chapter 38

  After Laura left, Jennings went upstairs and tapped on the chief’s door. Mostly he was curious if Robeson had seen Laura, and if so, what would be his reaction to her presence here.

  Robeson’s desk was covered in photos of the dead women. He was frowning as he stared down at them, rearranging them, sorting through them. There were crime scene photos, autopsy photos, snapshots from every conceivable vantage and angle. Jennings wasn’t surprised to see that there were three separate victims.

  James “Red” Robeson was a thin, youthful looking man of sixty who sported a thick head of unruly red hair and still had freckles on his cheeks and nose. He’d been chief since 91, hired from a long list of qualified out-of-town candidates when Hal Davies, Portland’s beloved chief of thirty-four years died suddenly from a massive heart attack. At the time, Jennings had been encouraged to apply for the job, assured that he was a shoe-in, the only local candidate with the credentials to occupy the coveted upstairs office.

  But Jennings did not want to occupy the upstairs office. It was only two years since the tragedy of his wife’s death and he still hadn’t come to grips with his loss. He was having trouble occupying his own skin, drinking too much, roaming, restless. He wanted to move, to feel his legs beneath him as he ran from the terrible things in his head, thoughts that plagued him night and day.