by James Brown
Quinn reached for his pocket once more.
Nick just reached his house and was parking his car. He looked forward to a warm shower and the warmth of a single malt whiskey going down his throat in front of the fireplace. Suddenly he was rudely shaken from his thoughts by a loud horn. It seemed as though someone wanted to follow him inside the gate. As the gates had closed quickly, the person couldn’t enter and was therefore blowing his horn. Nick rushed to the gate in anger and opened it partially to see the silhouette of the big menacing Quinn, behind the wheels of a rented Honda car from Hertz.
“Sorry to bother you, Mayor, but I need to talk to you rather urgently. Yes, it’s too urgent to wait for tomorrow,” said Quinn. Something in his expression conveyed to Nick that he would not back off. So, Nick opened the gates for Quinn and let him pass inside before closing them again.
Quinn got out of the car rather slowly, as though savoring the big house. But Nick was in a foul mood. “This is no way to come to the house of the Mayor, my boy. This better be very important or I will have you put behind bars for trespassing on private property,” he shouted.
“Sure, sure.” This was all Quinn said, before walking into Nick’s brightly lit living room. He sat calmly on Nick’s favorite Parker Knoll chair. He leaned back on the chair and put his dirty soiled shoes on the polished mahogany table, with a half-smile on his face.
Nick was baffled, intrigued and enraged all at the same time
“Mr. Quinn...,” Nick started to shout. Quinn threw a bunch of sheets at his feet and said calmly, “Just came to show you these history books. Thought you would find them interesting.”
Nick reluctantly picked up the papers from the floor. He could make out they were some sort of entries. But he couldn’t decipher anything from them. “Is this some sort of a joke or are you completely mad?” he shouted in anger.
“Not at all sir, not at all. These are the toll gate records of the year 1992. They prove conclusively that a car entered the gates leading to Rochester from Toronto, following another car, and that none of the cars came back the next year and the year after that, and after that...till date,” Quinn said, with wide eyes. He spoke slowly as though explaining something to a small child.
“I have the details. I can prove that the car, on that day, actually came after one person named Jim Carter, right up this driveway, along with a group of men. And that it was destroyed after the men were killed, right here in this house, by none other than the Mayor of Rochester and his father.”
Nick was in shock. It was as if gallons of frozen water had been poured on him suddenly. His mind went numb. He stumbled on the sofa and sat down heavily on it.
Quinn went up to the bar and poured two stiff drinks. Finally, things had begun to take an interesting turn, he thought. Now Big Daddy will learn some manners, he was sure.
He would now teach Nick how to behave.
Chapter 10
Rob Jennings was still in a daze. The accident in the engine room of the ferry had shook him up badly. He could still not get the image of the child out of his mind. When he was pinned down on the floor of the room with the metal mesh pressing and cutting into his face, he saw a face which had frozen his blood. It was the face of the boy, the same boy in the back streets of Ritz Cinema.
Rob had been married for eight years. He had a six-year-old boy, who was the apple of his eye and the darling of the house. One day, he did not come back from his school. A concerned Rob went in search of him. He found his son sitting at the street corner and crying uncontrollably. He had multiple bruises and cuts on his arms. He told Rob that as he was returning home, two boys had taken him to the back streets of Ritz Cinema and had robbed him of his bag, jacket and boots. They had also thrashed him badly.
Rob took his son home. After handing him over to his wife, he rushed to the Ritz and began navigating the back lanes searching for the two vagabonds who had dared hurt his lovely little boy. He was furious, and blood was in his eyes. Such was his exacerbated state of mind that he did not even notice the deep cut he suffered when he hit a piece of metal jutting out of a wall on the back streets.
It was then that he saw them. They were two black boys, shabbily dressed, with dirty faces and ragged clothes. One of them had a pair of shoes tied along his waist with laces, while the other had the jacket draped over his shoulder. He was also carrying his son’s school bag in his other hand.
“Hey there, stop, stop for God’s sake,” Rob shouted.
Seeing Rob come after them, they started to run. But they were no match for Rob who reached them quickly. Rob pushed the smaller boy hard. The boy stumbled badly and fell, hitting his head heavily on the ground. The other boy, who was the bigger of the two, kept running. As Rob stopped to thrash the small boy, he noted that the boy on the ground was not making any movement at all. He wanted to hit him hard. He stooped down to catch him by the back of his neck and turn him around. He suddenly froze. As the little face turned by the force of his hand, Rob saw blood coming out of the corners of the mouth and the eyes were open wide, as though staring at him, accusing him and chiding him. The child was dead. Rob looked at his dirty blood soaked and bruised face for a fleeting moment and then released him. He started to run in the opposite direction.
The same face had back come to haunt him on the ferry.
Quinn was in two minds. He wanted to rush back to Toronto and get a detailed article on the disappearance of the Katos gang published in the weekend edition. His other option was to stay on and work on his hunch – he wanted to investigate the death of
Ms Stacy. He decided in favor of the latter.
Quinn had been having a strange feeling over the past few weeks. It was as though he was silently driven by an unknown but all-knowing force. The entire engagement with Nick had transpired smoothly, one step leading to the other, like a well-written plot unfolding itself, page after page, with no hindrance or hurdle.
He had solved a 20-year-old mystery in the last three days by meeting just three people and that too following a hunch. He couldn’t even remember how it all had started. He felt as though he was being guided by an unknown hand in all his endeavors.
It was the same guiding force which had helped him make another decision too. It wanted him to stay in the town and not leave. He was on a mission here and he had to accomplish it. He had to get to the bottom of the Stacy mystery. It was not his choice.
Achooka was restless. The day had turned pitch black. The Devil had taken over and it was doing its work swiftly and clinically. He had to intervene, he had to talk to someone who would listen to him, he had to explain and take charge. He couldn’t allow this to happen to the people of his town, not as long as he was alive, not when he knew what was happening.
The Holy Spirit always had a plan for everyone– for people like Nick, Rob, and Stacy. They were all good men and women, god-fearing and righteous, whom God wanted to shield and protect. But the evil spirit had appeared and tried to spoil God’s plans. It had also found a medium and was controlling and using him to fulfill its own objectives. Unless he averted the inevitable, the Devil would become stronger and stronger.
Achooka considered himself the medium of God. His fight was directly with the evil spirit and anyone under its influence. But the fight was going to be very difficult. He would need all his powers and skills to counter the evil plans of the Devil. The enemy wielded enormous power and its power fed on the weaknesses of the people it hunted.
It was clear that as it moved swiftly from one person to the other, it was gaining in strength. Who would be the next target? Will he be strong enough to oppose the evil spirit?
As of now, the person who needed the most help was Nick. Achooka sat down in front of a raging bonfire and started the beckoning dance. He let his mind soar high in the sky. His body was in a deep trance. He sat cross-legged in front of the fire, drawing from its power and intensity. He entered Nick’s house and started fanning his sleeping form. Each gust of wind strengthened his will ag
ainst the evil spirit.
Chapter 11
Quinn woke up in the morning when the house keeper knocked gently on his door. Quinn said in a heavy voice, “Come in.”The woman entered the room and started sweeping the floor with the brush of a big round vacuum cleaner. She started speaking.
“Mighty bad accident, it was at the ferry, and the engineer is still dazed and has hallucinations. They say he has gone bonkers, keeps mumbling about a boy and how he has been punished for his crime. His young wife is quite worried. Says he is not the same man. Poor thing.”
“You mean the engineer who was involved in the accident on the ferry? What’s his name?”Quinn asked.
“It’s old Robbie. Seen him grow up in the town. Mighty smart kid, very caring, and the family type. Can’t find a nicer lad for 10 miles,” she said, in characteristic country slang.
“Where does he live, this Rob?” The sentence just came out of his mouth and even Quinn was surprised at it.
“Just down the lane, the house before the last. Number 44, you see. The missus and the little boy and Rob, small family, God bless them.”
Quinn made a mental note of the same. He quickly got up to get ready for the day. The information may come in handy, he thought.
Now, with Nick more or less out of the way, he had the prime task of investigating the accidental death of Ms Stacy on the ferry. He went up to the ferry and boarded the big boat. Actually, he had planned to go back to Toronto on the ferry that day to check on the crew and also have some time for himself to catch up with his report.
As he boarded the ferry, Quinn dialed Steve and told him that he would be reaching Toronto the next day morning. On second thoughts, he also told him to check on the local coordinates of Ms Stacy, at her sister’s residence, and try to get additional information on Ms Stacy. Hardly anyone in the town knew anything about her personal life. She had no relatives, except her sister. Everybody knew that she lived in Toronto and Ms Stacy visited her once a year without fail. Many townsfolk commented that it was downright rude of her sister not to have come to the town even once. None of them had ever seen her. So the only way to know anything personal about Ms Stacy was through her sister, Quinn thought. Hence, he put Steve on her trail. He quickly settled down in his cabin to savor the luxuries of the big boat.
The maid at the house on Rose Avenue, in Toronto’s southern suburb, was at her wits end. She had the keys to the small apartment. She had been following the routine for the past 17 years and had never faced any problem, but this year the gentle old miss had not turned up, and worse, her phone was not being answered. So, the old maid Tass didn’t know what to do.
She had followed the same routine. The call had come and the miss had told her that she would be reaching Monday morning. As usual, Tass had checked in one day earlier. She had dusted and cleaned the small apartment and had made it livable. She had even bought some essential food stuff and also pruned the small garden. The miss always appreciated this and gave her a tip as she really loved flowers. But the dear miss had missed her appointment this time. Tass had been waiting for her for almost six days and now she was getting worried.
It was late noon when she heard the front bell ring loudly. At last, the miss had come, she thought. She ran to the door and opened it in a rush, keen to see the little miss, only to find a small thin man standing there with a small notebook and a pencil tucked above his left ear. He was wearing a dark grey beret.
“May I help you, sir?” she asked rather awkwardly, as she was still recovering from the unexpected presence of the man. She was also not sure if she should allow a stranger to enter the apartment.
“Wanted to discuss some matter with Ms Stanly, if she is around,” he said.
“And who may I announce to her has come to meet her?” she asked, rather pompously.
“Steve, from the Herald, if you may,” he replied rather softly, as he didn’t want to antagonize the big woman.
It was then that she noted the all-too-familiar Herald logo on the shirt of the stranger. She invited him in and offered him a glass of water.
Soon, she was telling him all about Ms Stanly.
Quinn was fast asleep on the big deck chair when his phone started to ring. The ringtone alerted him that it was from Steve. He pushed the green blinker and Steve‘s voice could be heard clearly.
“This is breaking news, boss.”
Steve seemed excited. That meant only two things, either he was in some big problem, which was unlikely, or he had stumbled upon something most unusual and unexpected. Then he remembered his last call to him and immediately his concentration returned.
Steve spoke animatedly.
“I went to check on the sister of Ms Stacy. Her name is Ms Stanly. She too lived alone in the south of the city. I dug out her address and met her housekeeper. She says Ms. Stanly stayed there only for 15 days in the whole year. She usually called her up to clean the house and make it ready before coming. She paid her when she left. She gave one set of keys to the old maid. What do you make of that?”
“I don’t know, maybe the sisters just used the house as a getaway home for 15 days in a year and then got busy with their own lives. So what’s the problem?” Quinn asked. He was a bit confused at the information and was taking time to digest it.
“I have a hunch, just a hunch. I can only tell you when you return. Meanwhile, do you have a picture of Ms. Stacy with you?” Steve asked.
“I got one from the municipal office and made a copy of it to be used for publishing along with the article. I have it, though it is a bit old,” said Quinn. He was still puzzled.
“Okay, tomorrow I have called the maid over to the office at 12 noon.I think it will be a very interesting meeting,” said Steve and disconnected.
Quinn kept thinking about the conversation for a long time. He had forgotten to ask Steve what the housekeeper had told him of Ms Stanly. It would have to wait till tomorrow.
Tass reached the office of the Herald well in time.
She had told Steve everything she knew about Ms Stanly. Why had he called her again to the office, she wondered.
Tass hoped the little man would give her some information about the miss. She prayed all was well. As she entered the conference room, she saw the small man again. The beret was firmly in place at exactly the same angle as the day before. Sitting along with him was a big burly man. Steve quickly got up and greeted her, “Good morning, Tass. Meet my boss, Mr. Quinn.”
He ran up to the percolator and made two strong glasses of coffee and served them as Quinn sat surveying the big woman.
“As per your information, Ms Stanly would call you before coming to clean the house. Then she would leave the house for the whole year and come again only after a year, right?” Quinn asked her.
“That’s what I told him. That‘s right, sir,” she replied, cowering under Quinn’s stare.
“So both of them would come together and then leave together, every year? And this year, both of them didn’t turn up?” he asked.
“I dunno what you are talking about. She would only come alone. Yes sir. She would not even look at any man. No sir, mighty god-fearing and church-going righteous lady she is,” Tass replied, with a hint of anger and disgust in her voice.
Steve was listening with a slightly twisted smile on his face. He was enjoying this. It was not every day that he outdid his boss. He was waiting to see Quinn’s reaction. And it came quickly.
“You mean, she would come alone always, stay for two weeks, and then leave? Just like that, just like that?” Quinn was now shouting excitedly.
“Yes, yes. That’s what I said. Is there a problem there? Was she supposed to come with someone? Please tell me, what’s the problem at least?” she cried out in alarm.
Quinn quickly took out the photograph of Ms Stacy from his pocket and went up to Tass.
“Is this your Ms. Stanly?” he asked.
He knew the answer even before she said ‘yes’.
Chapter 12
Stacy had always been the weaker of the two sisters. Being twins, they resembled each other a lot. Their parents had bought them up with good care and they had both grown up to be fine young women. Both their parents died one after the other when they were about 25 years of age.
Soon both sisters got busy in their professions. Stacy, in tune with her nature, turned to botany, and Stanly became a geologist. Stanly became an assistant scientist at the Geology Institute in Toronto, while Stacy shifted to New York to pursue a career as a botanist. Both sisters used to meet occasionally. They did not have anyone else to fall back on as both were too involved in their work to have any outside interests.
But as time went by, Stanly was drawn to a young attorney who worked in a law firm in the same building she worked in. They started dating and fell in love. Meanwhile, Stacy decided to move to a small town called Rochester as the big city life proved to be too much of a stress on her delicate body and mind. It was here that she met Tim and was immediately drawn to him due to his impeccable manners with women, his smooth talk, a hint of a rebellion and outspokenness, which she found alluring. Soon, she was madly in love with Tim. But his internship was in Toronto. He would go there on Monday and come back during the weekend into the arms of an eagerly waiting Stacy, only to leave again by Sunday evening.
Once, Tim didn’t turn up for three weeks. So Stacy decided to go and check on him. She went to Toronto from New York by flight and landed there late evening. She had Tim’s address with her. She rented a car and drove to Tim’s place.
There she saw Tim with Stanly and her world came crashing down on her. She was angry, very angry. She was one of those people who had very few friends. And such people had extreme feelings of possessiveness.
