The Big Ben mystery

by Fernando Trujillo

  "That's true, but we've done a lot more for him than get him out of jail, Todd," the old man said, sitting down on a bench seat with Todd at his side. "We've been protecting him for years. He still hasn't asked who he is."

  "I don't understand," Aidan said. "Of course I know who I am. What have you been protecting me from?"

  "Did you hear that, Tedd?" Todd asked. "He seems very sure. We could test him. Ask him if he knows how he recovered from a triple break of his spine without complications."

  "Surely he doesn't think that his body possesses some special recuperative quality, Todd," Tedd said. "I hope we're not mistaken and that he's prepared now to accept the truth."

  "W–Was it you?" Aidan stammered a question. "Did you save my life?"

  He'd been through his recovery in his mind so many times. It had been surprising for him and everybody else. But there had always been a little doubt at the back of his mind that something out of the ordinary had taken place. And here he was now, looking at these strange violet-eyed people, with the old doubt in his mind rising to the surface. If they'd done that for him, they could also do it for Wilfred. The urgency of finding out who this strange couple was invaded his mind again.

  "He's grasped the first one, Todd," Tedd seemed satisfied.

  "I… I'd like to thank you," Aidan stuttered again. "Did my recovery have anything to do with chess?"

  "You see how thankful he is, Tedd," Todd said. "I knew he'd learn to appreciate two great friends like us."

  "That means he deserves to hear a little about the game, Todd," Tedd said. "Tell him what a majestic game it is. A king's game. He's going to find it very interesting to know that we got sick of playing between ourselves so we decided to create a better game in order to invite others to play."

  "I needed to play against someone different, Tedd," Todd remembered. "Winning all the time took the interest out of our last few games."

  Tedd waved his walking stick. "That's not true and you know it, Todd," he replied. "I always beat you. In fact, I taught you all you know about chess."

  "Did you also save my wife?" Aidan asked, endeavouring as quickly as he could to tie up all the loose ends. "You rescued her from the river, didn't you?"

  "Now we'll clear up who beat who, Todd," Tedd said. "Our friend is asking about our dear Ashley."

  "That's normal, Tedd," Todd said. "He needs to know what happened to his wife. He didn't know that she survived the accident. At no point did she require our art for herself. But she did ask help for her husband."

  "For me? She asked you to save my life? I should have died." A new idea flashed through Aidan's mind.

  Ethan had become immortal; Dylan a millionaire; Ashley had been able to get her husband saved. All of that, as strange as it was, was fair enough. But what did Tedd and Todd get out of that? There were still plenty of doubts to clear up.

  "Do you remember the beautiful Ashley when she first came to us, Todd?" Tedd asked. "She was so scared."

  "It was a pleasure to help her, Tedd," Todd said. "There should be more women like her, so charming, so in love. She's a delight. She wanted to thank us by playing a game of our chess. It was an honour for us to accept her request."

  It seemed that this was how the whole thing worked. Tedd and Todd did something for someone and that person played a game of live chess in return. There were still some missing links, but it had to be something like that. Aidan wasn't that surprised. There had to be some reason to explain how people had got involved in all of this. But what was more important than anything else was the fact that Ashley was alive and so was he. He decided to ask the question that scared him the most.

  "Why hasn't Ashley said anything about all of this to me? Why couldn't she have let me know that she was alive?"

  "You shouldn't answer that, Todd," Tedd warned him. "We're not the people to involve ourselves in matters of true love."

  "What type of friends would we be if we were to do that, Tedd?" Todd said. "I would never do something like that. Our duty is to respect the wish of our beloved Ashley, so that she can explain it herself in person. It's certainly a decision I applaud."

  "Ashley will tell me?" Aidan begged to know. Just the thought of seeing her again was driving him crazy. "Where can I find her? I wouldn't know how to thank you enough if you helped me with that."

  "It's a pleasure dealing with such polite people, Todd," Tedd said. "Tell him where he can find his wife. He wants to see her before she goes."

  "You're right, Tedd," Todd agreed. A flyer fell onto the bench as he was taking a handkerchief out of his pocket. "I wouldn't like him to arrive late because we kept him here too long. After all, his wife can't wait for him much longer there."

  Aidan grabbed the pamphlet that Todd had dropped. He was so happy to think he would meet his wife again that he didn't notice that Tedd and Todd weren't even looking at him as they continued to talk to each other.

  He said goodbye as politely as he could and dashed to his car. As he drove off, he glanced at the flyer beside him on the front seat. It advertised an art gallery. He memorized the address and sped there as fast as he could.

  # # #

  Helen White still didn't understand what had happened. She had woken up nude in the living room, in front of strangers, a seven-foot-tall policeman and a beautiful young woman.

  The man had at least had the decency to offer her a coat to cover herself, but neither of the two explained what they were doing there. They'd asked her about someone called James, a man with the same surname as hers, and she had been surprised to find she didn't know who they were talking about. Helen felt disorientated. The attitude of the couple had been strange. And what were they doing there in her house?

  She had asked them to leave when they started talking about chess. Why would they have talked about a board game under those strange circumstances? All the more so when the policeman had suggested she was the new white queen. Just as she was about to demand an explanation for the whole mystery of their presence and strange comments, they disappeared.

  Now that they were gone and she was alone and she could forget about the whole thing. Helen went to the kitchen and drank two glasses of orange juice, one after the other. In her bedroom she took off the coat the policeman had given her, opened the wardrobe and began to study her clothes. It took her more than fifteen minutes to decide. Finally she chose a comfortable casual suit that she liked.

  She was just finishing getting dressed in front of a full-length mirror on the back of one of the wardrobe doors when her clothes disappeared before her eyes, replaced just as quickly by an elegant white dress. She left the room and went to the front door. She had to go straight to a person named Otis, whose whereabouts she knew without having the least idea how.

  When Helen White walked out into the street she was carrying an enormous bow in her right hand.

  # # #

  Aidan Zack's car came to a screeching halt across the street from the art gallery advertised on Tedd and Todd's flyer. He crossed over quickly and entered the gallery.

  "Ashley!" he called out.

  No one answered. The place was deserted.

  A wave of nerves surged through his body as he went from one room to the next calling out his wife's name. The works of art hanging on all the walls were no more than frames with vague representations within them as he did a complete circuit of the building.

  He realized a few minutes after walking in that she wasn't there and panic welled up in his veins. He screamed her name once more and with a wild kick knocked a sculpture crashing to the floor. Even the thought of ruining a work of art didn't bother him as he did another round of the building. He couldn't give up. Aidan went up a flight of stairs to the first floor where a series of closed doors no doubt led to luxurious offices. If there'd been anyone there they would've been alerted to his presence by the commotion he'd unleashed downstairs. But there was no sound. The first floor was as silent as the ground floor had been.

  He continued up the stair
s to the second floor, opening all the doors as he went along the corridor. Only one was locked, but he knocked it down in his fury. But there was no one there, just another empty office.

  While he was thinking it through, he became aware of the smell of smoke coming from somewhere in the building. Aidan flew down the stairs. Before he reached the gallery he could hear the unmistakeable roar of a fire. The flames were devouring the works of art on one of the walls greedily, spewing black smoke everywhere. Without stopping to think how the fire had started, he made for the exit as fast as he could but found another surprise there.

  The metal security door had slammed down for some unknown reason, barring the exit. A few minutes before it had been open, but now it was shut tight. It was obvious that someone had activated the door while he was upstairs. The fire was fiercer here, so he backpedalled, edging his way back along the wall, his lungs heavy with smoke. Passing a painting that was as yet untouched, he pulled a fire extinguisher off the wall, and tried to use it against the flames, but found it empty. He cursed and threw it away and continued his desperate search for a way out.

  The ceiling was covered with sprinklers, but none were working. Whoever had made sure that the front door was locked had also ensured that no water was going to come down from above. Someone wanted to fry him alive within these walls.

  The heat was unbearable. Sweat was pouring off him and his coughing was getting worse. He took his sweater off and ripped a piece off to cover his nose and mouth. The smoke was going to suffocate him in minutes if he didn't find a way out right now. But with his vision blurred, he could barely see the wall of flames almost upon him.

  # # #

  After five years of intense combat, the end game had arrived. Otis Cade knew that well enough. Checkmate was inevitable. Ashley was on the verge of winning and it didn't even surprise him when three white arrows hit the ground a few feet from his king's throne. It was Helen White and he knew that the adjacent square was threatened by her. Three arrows near the wheelchair were testimony to that. There was only one vacant square where he could go, but, as the next move would leave him exposed to checkmate, he wanted to postpone the moment for as long as possible and use what little time he had left to good purpose.

  He was up against the white queen now instead of James White, and Helen's next move would bring the game to its end. He imagined Ashley studying the board. She must be expectant, excited at the prospect of finishing everything once and for all. He couldn't blame her. One had to win and one to lose. That's what it was all about.

  He didn't like to admit it but the situation hadn't looked good for some time. Looking back, he figured that he had played the opening game well. They had been close during the first two years. There had been a moment, too, when he'd made a tactical sacrifice that had given him the chance of victory. Tedd and Todd had told him that later. Unfortunately, he couldn't see it at the time and now it was too late to change the outcome.

  Resigned to his destiny, Otis turned around and went in the direction of the only square that he could occupy to wait for his end.

  # # #

  Helen White arrived at the right place, on the roof of a building, and leant over and glanced around the street. She confirmed that it was the area she wanted to cover and once she was satisfied she took aim with the bow and drew the string back. A white arrow was in place waiting to fly true. She stayed like that for nearly a half an hour. If anyone had seen her from below they would have thought there was a statue on top of the building.

  She looked along the street, certain that at that moment there was nothing more important in the world that guarding this street. Time passed slowly until her target finally appeared, a black wheelchair moving along under its own steam. She knew Otis was sitting in the chair and a wave of hate and repulsion consumed her. She felt a sudden desire to shoot straight away, to shoot a million arrows into his heart. But that wasn't her mission and she couldn't fail. Her fine fingers released the arrow and it flew straight towards its target. It hit the ground three feet from Otis. The throne stopped its advance along the street and she fired two more arrows beside the first to make sure he got the message.

  She put a fourth arrow in the bow and took aim. She could see Otis sitting on the throne. She watched him carefully until he turned and went away.

  Her next objective didn't take long to materialize in her mind.

  # # #

  A giant game of chess with living pieces, London the board and Big Ben the clock. How extraordinary! If someone got the exclusive on the story would anyone believe it?

  Carol couldn't think clearly. She tapped her pen on the table like a drummer trying to perfect a rhythm. She had to investigate Otis Cade, find out what his beef with Ashley was. She'd promised Aidan she'd do that; promised the man she loved that she'd help him. The widower's wife had been born again. The woman he'd cried over for five years was back, alive and kicking, and that was bad luck for Carol.

  She felt bad thinking about it. Aidan had suffered so much and the news of his wife being alive should have pleased everyone. But it was difficult for Carol to join the party. She knew she was being selfish, even pathetic, but she couldn't help it.

  Carol decided to go over everything that she'd found out up to that point, to see if it could help. It was a good enough exercise to concentrate on something else other than the sad twist of fate that had put her future with Aidan in doubt. She turned her computer on and ignored the constant murmur of the office around her and started to compile a list of the events on a blank page. She typed all the names she could remember, together with dates and incidents that had occurred in the last few days. The number of things that had happened in such a short time was surprising. The saddest thing of all had been Lance's death.

  After she was satisfied that she'd put everything of importance down, she reread it and pressed ‘save’. Her head was spinning with information. She got up and walked to the cafeteria before coming back and delving deeper into Otis's life.

  The corridors were full of reporters and editors, contributing to the usual sense of urgency that characterized the newspaper. All the offices were occupied and when she got to the cafeteria she found it full.

  Carol waited for a while, ordered a latte, sat down at a recently vacated table and looked around. What caught her attention straight away was a small child of around ten years old who was carrying a cup in his hand. He had the sweetest expression and the strangest violet eyes Carol had ever seen. She wondered, as he walked to a table near her, what a child was doing drinking coffee. He stopped at a table where an old man with a walking stick resting on his legs was sitting. The boy put the cup down on the table in front of the old man.

  "Here's your coffee, Tedd," Carol heard him say.

  "Thanks very much, Todd."

  Carol almost fell off her chair when she heard their names. She remembered Aidan's description of them and it was a perfect fit. But what were they doing here?

  "She's already seen us, Todd," Tedd said. "She's a very observant woman."

  "That's good, Tedd," Todd said, "because we've come to see her."

  "Are you talking about me?" Carol asked, standing up and walking over to their table.

  "Remember that we're in a hurry, Todd," Tedd said. "Tell our dear reporter here that we're not satisfied with her intention to publish details of our activities."

  "First, we have to thank her for her collaboration, Tedd," Todd replied. "Tell her how pleased we are that she found a use for the information we sent her. She passed it on to Aidan exactly as it was given to her."

  The conversation surprised Carol. Aidan hadn't mentioned anything about their strange way of talking. The worst thing she'd found out so far was that it had been them who'd sent the envelopes. That meant that Tedd and Todd had wanted their legal activities to be discovered, and for the information to be passed to Aidan.

  She suddenly felt a stab of fear in the pit of her stomach.

  "You don't want anything published a
bout you? Is that correct?" she asked, sure that this was the reason for their presence in the cafeteria.

  "At least she's understood part of the message, Tedd," Todd said.

  "But that's not enough, is it, Todd?" Tedd frowned. "Not publishing anything is only the beginning. Now everything has to go back to where it was before."

  "Which means we have to take measures, dissuasive measures, Tedd."

  "Exactly, Todd."

  # # #

  "Is there a parade of models somewhere around here?" a fireman asked, unwinding the hose.

  "Worry about the fire and leave your fantasies for later," his companion said.

  Another fire engine arrived and the firemen spread out along the street. The captain studied the burning facade of the art gallery carefully, evaluating the best way of controlling the fire. A crowd of onlookers observed the flames surging into the upper floors of the building.

  "They're not fantasies, idiot. Look!"

  The firemen stopped what they were doing and stared in amazement at the striking image that had surged out of the crowd. A beautiful woman around seven foot tall, dressed in an elegant white dress, was striding towards the gallery. Everyone rubbed their eyes in disbelief when she walked into the flames as a section of metal grating collapsed. A fireman tried to stop her but he was driven back by the heat of the flames.

  Helen White crossed the inferno and found a tall man propped against the back wall, holding a piece of material over his face, coughing uncontrollably. Helen helped him to his feet, leading him along the wall to a large metal door that was closed. She kicked it down effortlessly and helped the man into another room. She was dragging him more than helping him walk now. They stopped at another door, which she kicked down just as easily, and then they were back in the street.