Graveyard Girl_Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was two full weeks before I was released on the Wednesday morning. My head and rib-cage were bandaged, and thankfully the bruises had begun to subside. I was given strict orders by my doctor to get bed rest.

“No excitement for a couple of weeks now Mr. Morris”, he said. Of course I agreed whole-heartedly.

This would normally be a welcome break for me. Orders to take it easy and do nothing. But I had several things I was going to get worked up about on my agenda. The first of which was a trip to Lieutenant Brown’s office.

The office had sent over a driver who picked me up from the hospital. I gave him the address of Lieutenant Brown’s office. He shook his head, but dutifully drove in that direction.

Thirty minutes after my official release from the hospital, I was standing in Lieutenant Brown’s office, demanding to see him. His beady eyed secretary was giving me a hard time.

“I’m sorry Mr. Morris…”

“That’s Detective Morris” I cut in sharply, already extremely irritated.

“I’m sorry Detective Morris, Lieutenant Brown is unavailable at present. May I make an appointment for you?”

“Screw the appointment” I leaned over her desk and spat at her through my clenched teeth. “Do I look like I’m here for an appointment? I should be home in bed. Now I am here on official business, you get him out here!” I shouted.

She abruptly stood up, her spectacles almost sliding off the end of her long, pointy nose, and briskly walked over to a door at the end of the office. I followed closely behind her.

“Mr. Morris if you would just take a seat…”

“Detective Morris!” I shouted at her, my head beginning to pound. She paused, screwed up her mouth tightly and scowled. She huffed, and lifted her spectacles up to the appropriate place on her nose and indignantly opened the door.

“Lieutenant Brown, Detective Morris is here to…”

“Well hello there sir.” I pushed past her and into the spacious, well furnished office.

“Detective Morris! You are looking well, considering,” Brown said nervously, as he stood up and walked over to the scene at the door. “That’s okay Henrietta, please go and get us some coffee” he said, voice lowered, at the scowling secretary who was most annoyed that she had lost the battle.

She quietly shut the door as Lieutenant Brown showed me to a comfortable looking, dark brown leather arm chair opposite his executive’s chair at his large, wood and leather desk.

“Surely you should be home in bed resting Detective?” he smiled at me, his round, podgy face crinkling up.

“Lets cut the crap here, Lieutenant Brown” I said. “What is the deal with you telling Harry to back down on digging into this cult?”

“Well, there’s no evidence of…” he immediately rushed into the defense.

“These are the guys that almost killed me!” I quickly interjected. “I know one of them had the same body type as that bouncer that’s always hanging around Black, did Harry tell you that?”

“Detective, these are speculations” he informed me. “It was dark, they wore masks, you couldn’t give an accurate description and frankly, we have no reason to go…”

“Did you know about Mildred James?” I cut in abruptly. He looked down at his desk silently, pushing a piece of paper around with his podgy, freckled fingers.

“What about her?” he asked.

“Well, she’s bloody possessed, for one!” I said. “How is she involved in this cult Lieutenant?” I asked.

“She’s a student at the University, Rod. That’s all. Now I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself,” he said.

“A little ahead of myself?” I asked. “She makes candles too doesn’t she?” I asked. “Sells them on Campus. Would Black be one of her biggest clients then?”

“What the hell are you getting at Rod”, he said.

“Does she make black candles?” I asked. “The same as the black candles at the scene of the ritual worship? The same as the candle I saw her slashing her wrists in front of at…”

“Now wait a minute here” he interrupted me quickly. But I continued.

“Did you know” I continued “that she was admitted to the hospital after having a miscarriage? Who’s baby do you suppose that was Lieutenant? How many young girls has Reginald Black roped in at the University?” My voice was getting louder.

“Look Morris, I think you’d better calm down,” he said, visibly annoyed.

“Calm down…” I laughed. “Look at me Lieutenant. I am lucky to be alive! And why? Because I was close to uncovering something? If they’re involved in anything illegal, it would take some investigating to uncover the truth, don’t you think, Lieutenant?” I said, trying to contain my anger. The pounding in my head was reaching mammoth proportions now, almost unbearable. “Are you going to help these guys cover up murder the next time someone gets too close to the truth?” I spat the words out at him.

“Mr. Morris, you don’t know what you’re getting involved with here”, he said, looking down at the piece of paper on his desk again.

“And it’s your job to tell me what I can and can’t get involved in?” I said, beginning to lose my grip on my tightly wound self control.

“Let me tell you something” I said , “and let me assure you, I will have the full co-operation of the police; I am opening a full investigation on this cult, and I’m going to expose Mildred James’ mother, however she’s involved, and Black is going down”. I stood up to leave. I had to get out of there, I could feel the blood pounding through my skull, a high pitched ringing sound accompanied the pain now.

Lieutenant Brown hastily stood up and walked around the desk, blocking my exit.

“Detective Morris” he said, a warning tone penetrating his voice. “I strongly advise you back off. People are going to get hurt.”

“People have already been hurt” I pointed out.

I turned to leave.

“Harry is dead, Morris.” I stopped, frozen by his words. I couldn’t even bring myself to turn and face him. The high pitched ringing had reached an excruciating crescendo in my ears. My palms felt clammy.

“What?” I said, sucking my breath in, almost dreading the reply.

“Harry was getting involved in something he shouldn’t have…just like you are Rod” he said, sounding his tone now threatening. “You are a big town, failed Detective. You’re on my turf here. I suggest you get back to your high school stake-outs and leave the real crimes to the people who know what they’re doing” he said.

I spun around and gave him a murderous look, my insides twisting. My head felt like it could explode. I felt nausea rising up, the burning taste of bile at the back of my throat, both for my worsening condition and for what I’d just heard.

“Is that what you had me brought out here for Alan?” I asked, my voice clearly shaking. I had to fight the burning desire to punch his fat face hard. He must have recognized I was on the verge of completely losing it, because he took a step back.

Just then the door opened behind me. Henrietta stood there scowling, two coffees balancing on a tray she held in her bony little hands. She observed the scene before her and astutely sensed the atmosphere was explosive. She opened her mouth to say something and I shoved past her, the delicately balanced tray flying out of her hands. I didn’t turn around to look at the calamity I had caused. I was trying not to gag as I dry swallowed a handful of Myprodol. I heard cups smash, a shriek from Henrietta and gasps all over the office. I stormed out of there and ordered the driver to take me to my office.

*******

By the time I arrived, the pain had subsided, but I was fuming. I waved away the greetings and concerned questions. I stormed into my office and Lydia stared at me, mouth agape. She didn’t say anything, a small piece of good fortune right now.

I slammed my door behind me and got on the phone. I called the local precinct, wanting answers about Harry.

The admin person on the other end of the line wasn’t very helpful, but he gave me Neil Whitley’s cell phone number. Neil was not just Harry’s partner, but his best friend. He agreed to meet with me at the pub later that night.

I was desperate to get hold of Harry’s wife, as I thought I should probably offer some kind of condolences. I couldn’t believe Harry was gone! How had this happened? This was my fault. I could hear my ex-wife’s voice in my head now…’this is your fault Rod. We rely on you and you let us down time and time again…I’m leaving’.

I seemed to have a knack for screwing things up. Maybe I should just retire, sell surf boards in East London or something.

I managed to get hold of Harry’s wife, Janine. They had lost their 6 year old son a year ago, so this had to be hard on her. Real hard. She was crying on the phone. I offered my condolences as best I could. She asked me how I was doing. Then she told me her mother and family were over and she had to go. At least she wasn’t alone.

I put my head down on my arms on my desk, and wept.

About a half hour later, I was angry again, and ready to take action. My head hurt, really bad. I fumbled in my old, tweed jacket pocket, pulled out another handful of Myprodol and quickly swallowed them. I needed to get hold of Millie’s mother, right away. I wanted to get over there and demand the answers I needed. This whole debacle was out of control. Did these guys own the city? Had they even bought the police force off? Did they think they could just kill off anyone who didn’t fit in with their plans?

I called information, asking for a number on a Mrs. James and gave her address. After a pause on hold, they came back with a number.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. James?” I asked, surprised that I had got hold of her this quickly.

“This is Detective Morris”, I said hastily when there was no response on the other end. “Mrs. James I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions…about the case of your missing daughter, eight years ago? Can you talk?”

“Well…Err..” I didn’t give her a chance to refuse me.

“Mrs. James, have you heard from your daughter recently? Or at all, in the last eight years?” I interjected, trying not to sound too frantic for the answers I needed.

“Mr. Morris, I can’t really talk right now…It’s a bad time” she said unconvincingly.

“Mrs. James, this is important. I can make an appointment, but I just need to know if you’ve heard from Millie…Mildred” I corrected myself, making a point of using the name she was currently known by.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Mr. Morris” she retorted sharply. “If you don’t mind, I have something on the stove and its burning”. At that she slammed the phone down.

Maybe I had sent her into alarm mode, and she would avoid me at all costs now. If she was involved with Black and knew anything about the goings on in Krugersdorp lately, she was probably well aware of my investigations anyway. Whatever she did or didn’t know, she was lying on to me. She knew full well where her daughter was.

I requested that the driver take me to the police station to retrieve my car after that. I was feeling weak and exhausted from all the excitement. Back at home, my flat felt bare and painfully empty. I really missed old Bingo right now. He would always greet me at the door and provide some company in the emptiness and solitude of my life.

I went straight to bed, so spent I barely managed to set my alarm so that I could get up at six to meet with Neil at the pub.

****************

I met with Neil at our agreed spot that night shortly after six thirty. He gave me the sordid details on Harry’s tragic end while I slowly sipped my ever companionable and much needed Bourbon. It had been a while since I’d had a drink, and even though the barman frowned at my order, eyeing the bandage around my head, to my relief he poured the double without much fuss.

Harry had been asking questions at the University on the Friday he died. He had spoken to the Head of Faculty, a Professor Arnold Brass. Neil did not know all the details of the interview, but knew that Professor Brass had been un-cooperative, especially when Harry asked if he could speak to Reginald Black. Harry then unthinkingly confronted Brass with accusations of a cult operating under the guise of ‘motivational classes’ at his school. Harry had threatened to go to the Dean.

Neil had met with Harry that fateful Friday night at the very bar we were sitting in. They talked about the interview, and Harry even mentioned he was going to see me the next morning to discuss the latest developments. Only Harry never made it that far. He wrecked his car on the way home that night, crushing his head against the bridge his car had slammed into.

“Of course this won’t be chalked up to a homicide” I said gloomily, staring at the glasses stacked on the shelves behind the barman.

“It’s a DUI, open and shut. His wife will never know he was murdered, and these bastards will have succeeded in making it look like Harry was simply a foolish drunk, who rammed his car into a bridge after one too many beers!”

I threw the rest of the drink down my throat. At that point I felt like surrendering to defeat, and skipping town. Neil looked down at his glass and held onto his beer with both hands.

“But isn’t that exactly what happened Rod?” he asked, his voice choked up. “Harry was a drunk! He just overdid it for the last time, that’s all”.

I made sure I had another Bourbon in front of me before I tackled his gullible statement.

“Let me tell you something Neil”, I said staring at my full glass. “I spoke with our Lieutenant Brown this morning, and he basically threatened my life”.

At that I turned to look at Neil to gage his response to my words. His head whipped around to face me, disbelief on his face. “No”, he said, still in denial. I continued to look him right in the eye and gave him the gravity of the situation as he shook his head.

“He told me to my face to back off of these investigations or I’ll end up like Harry…Oh yes” I said firmly.

“This doesn’t make any sense” he exclaimed horrified, looking as if he was about to burst into tears. “Why, why would they do this? What are they willing to kill to cover up Rod? Some candle burning and cat skinning? This is bullshit!”

And with that, Neil got up and stormed out of the bar, and I was left alone to my heavy thoughts, slowly drowning in a whiskey induced haze.

********

First thing the next morning, I got myself another cell phone and SIM card, retaining all my old contacts and my old cell phone number. I set it up at the office and not twenty minutes later, I got the first call. It was Mr. Evans.

“I have been desperately trying to get hold of you Detective Morris” he breathed heavily into the phone. “What’s going on? You told me you were close to answers?”

I had to explain to Mr. Evans that my job was a risky and dangerous one, and went into the details of what had happened, leaving out my suspicions about who was involved. I also had to divulge that I suspected that his wife may be involved in something a little more serious than a flippant affair.

“What do you know about the people who your wife works with Mr. Evans?” I asked.

“The people she works with?” he repeated. Well, they’re professors and teachers, a boring bunch. Never really had my attention, why? Is the guy a colleague?” He said, beginning to sound hysterical.

“Mr. Evans” I responded, “like I said before, this may be deeper than a candid affair. I’m going to have to ask you for your patience and your trust on this one. I’m getting to the heart of it, and I promise you, when I get to the bottom of it, you’ll be the first to know”. I hoped that would be enough to appease him. It wasn’t.

“Just tell me Detective. Who is the guy? I have to live with this woman, share my bed with her every night. She is the mother of my children! I can’t go on living this sham! Who’s the guy?”

“Mr. Evans, I…”

“I pay you for answers Detective! Now either you tell me what you know or I’m going to tell her myself that she has been under investigation”.

“She knows, Mr. Evans”, I said tentatively.

“She knows? How the…”

“She spotted me watching her. She looked right at me. The traditional methods of following her around taking pictures are just not going to suffice in this particular case”. There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Now you are going to have to trust me Mr. Evans. I am working on this case with my fullest attention, and I will have the answers you are looking for soon. Until then, I can’t divulge much more, there’s too much at stake here. Can you accept that?”

“Sure” he said, after a pause. “It’s not like I have much choice, now is it”?

“Mr. Evans, I can refer you to a counselor in the meantime.”

“No, no. I’ll be fine. I’m just beginning to feel like I’m married to a stranger, that’s all”.

I hung up after that, thinking that Mr. Evans was probably more right than he could possibly have imagined.

The conversation had also started me thinking: If Mrs. Evans knew I was following her, did Black know? Could that be why he was giving her hell at the bar that night? Was that what triggered the attack on me? Or was that Brown’s doing? The attack had occurred the night I spoke to Brown, and told him what I knew.

Black and Brown. How are you tied together, I mused.

*************

The day was an extremely productive one. Despite a slight headache for most of the day, I had succeeded in contacting one of my associates from Johannesburg where I was previously stationed, Detective Thabo Mabiletsa. As it so happened, he was a specialist in ritual murders, serial killers and the cult scene. He was going to get back to me later that week to let me know if he was available to fly up in a week or two. I also managed to get an appointment for the next day with the Dean of Education of Krugersdorp, Professor Talisha Maharaj. If Arnold Brass wasn’t going to co-operate, I would simply go straight over his head.

Later that afternoon, unwinding the bandages from around my head in the office bathroom, I thought about Mildred. I wondered if she was released yet. I decided I would leave the paperwork for another day and go and pay her a visit.

I arrived at the hospital at around three that afternoon, flowers in hand.

“I’m here to see Ms. Mildred James?” I said to the lady behind the desk in admissions, hoping I didn’t run into any of the nurses who knew me quite well by now.

“Well, you’re just in time to give her those flowers” smiled the clerk. “Doctor is going in at four to sign her release papers.” Good. I had an hour.

She showed me down the corridor, past my old room, past the desk where the sisters were busily chatting and getting meds ready for the evening. I hid precariously behind my feeble flowers. At the end of the corridor and to the right, was a dimly lit, small room. No TV here, just one lonely bed and basin.

And there she was, perched at the edge of her bed in a blue, floor length night gown, her long, black hair falling forward over her face. Her right wrist was bandaged. She looked up at me with dark circled eyes and fiddled with her hair, looking down immediately. I noticed the pendant around her neck, the horse shoe with the serpent slithering around it.

“Do I know you?” she said sharply, looking out the window.

“My name is Rod Morris” I said carefully, a little unnerved at being faced with this mysterious girl. I instinctively tried to put her at ease.

“I live in your building. I was here when you were admitted…I was concerned…” my voice trailed off. I didn’t really know what to say next.

“I know who you are,” she said looking me in the eye with her large, dark eyes, a pained expression on her face. “You’re that detective that’s been snooping around, following me.” She seemed so young, so vulnerable.

“I know what happened,” I said, trying to bridge the gigantic gap between us, hoping she’d trust me and maybe, confide in me. “I know…about the baby.”

“For gods sake is nothing private in this town?” she snapped back, her eyes burning with anger.

“I saw you coming in” I carried on, ignoring her anger, “and I asked one of the nurse’s on duty. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through.” I tried to sound as genuinely concerned as I found myself feeling. She looked away, hugging her body, and began to rock gently backwards and forwards, as you would expect a mother to rock a troubled child.

“What do you want?” she eventually said through her tears.

“I came to bring you these.” I held out the now very small looking bunch of violets and daisy’s I’d picked up at the corner tea-room. She didn’t respond. I reached out and touched her arm and she flinched, pulling away.

“Mildred…I need to ask you some questions,” I eventually said, as gently as I could.

She scoffed at my revelation.

“I knew it. Feigning concern when you’re just here to dig.” She didn’t sound as angry as she had before, so I pressed on.

“I need to know what you’re involved in Millie, I want to help you.” She immediately spun her head and looked at me at the mention of her childhood name, and her eyes welled with tears.

“I…I have nothing to say to you.” She said as the tears rolled down her face. I could hardly stand the aching for her anymore. I put my arms around her and held her tight. This time she didn’t flinch or pull away. She kept her arms hugged tightly around her body, but she let me hold her…and she wept.

By the time my tweed jacket was soaked, she pulled away, mumbling an apology and dove next to the bed for a black bag, from which she retrieved a scrunched up tissue and blew her nose.

“Who was the father Mildred?” I asked gently, careful not to use the name ‘Mille’ again, fearing it would set her off.

“What does it matter?” she asked, the anger returning to her face. “Why do you want to know anyway? What do you think you are going to do with the information when you get it?”

“I’m not sure…I just…care…”

“You care? Why do you care? Because you have a case you need to solve? Or let me guess…you have a basic, human desire to see suffering end and save mankind and let us all live happily ever after.”

I didn’t respond. I sensed she was about to let a load off her chest. A load that would probably contain information I needed.

“You think you are doing us a favour by interfering?” Her eyes were blazing, she looked different, not at all innocent any longer. “Let me tell you something, detective. For your own sake, and for ours, leave us alone!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” I said, quietly.

“I’m afraid you have no choice” She said, sounding almost sly. “Detective I believe you have reached the end of this interrogation, now leave.” Her voice was calm and detached, she almost sounded rehearsed.

“I know it was Reginald Blacks baby” I said, trying to turn the failed attempt at consolation around in my favour.

She didn’t respond.

“I know that you’re involved in this cult, somehow. I know that Black is a teacher at your school, and I’m going to get my answers, one way or another.

She began to rock again, staring straight out at the wall in front of her, her eyes glazed.

“Mildred, you don’t have to do this anymore” I said, my compassion beginning to take hold again. “Whatever he’s done to get you involved, you don’t have to carry on with it. I can help you, I can offer you protection, I can get you back to your mother…”

“Ha” she laughed. There was that smile again. She was really quite beautiful under that expressionless, pale mask she wore.

“My mother…she repeated, rocking more vigorously, the blank expression returning. “My mother gave me away”…she sounded so dead inside.

“Your mother gave you away?” I repeated, trying not to betray the shock in my voice.

She suddenly took on a very strange composure, a sweet smile curved around her lips, but eyes were lifeless, fixated. She sat up straight and looked me squarely in the eyes.

“Detective” she said demurely. Her voice had even changed.

“You just need to understand. I’m not doing anything against my will. I love Reg. He found me at the most unhappy time of my life…and he saved me”. She sounded like she was hypnotized, but the shy smile lingered on her mouth.

She closed her eyes and I let her continue.

“It’s like…I’ve always been an extremely intuitive person. I have a gift, ESP” she went on. I tried not to roll my eyes, taking mental notes of everything she was saying.

“I feel things long before I know what they mean. When I first met Reg, it was like a light went on inside of me” her smile widened and she opened her eyes and rolled them skyward, rocking back and forth.

“He totally awakened my spiritual self” she went on. I could hear things…Things in the universe, things I’ve never heard before.” She giggled like a child and went on. “He has showed me the answer to life’s deepest questions. Things regular folk spend their whole lives searching for…And I just know…I know to the core of my being he has shown me truth”.

She lifted her legs onto the bed and folded them under her, in a mock ‘levitation pose’, as she took on the very same stance she’d had while rocking in front of the black candle in her flat. The coy smile still played on her lips, her eyes stared forward. All I needed to complete the scenario was to hear the howling. I almost expected her to pull the dagger out from under her sleeve.

“I knew him you know…in a past life. We were lovers then too. That’s why we gravitate so naturally, and magnetically towards each other” she explained.

I tried not intrude on her obvious trance, but I had to guide her to the answers I needed.

“Don’t you ever get hurt?”

She abruptly stopped rocking and her smile faded. She looked like some real emotion was about to break through the façade, and then she smiled again, that faint, timid smile, the rocking resumed while she stared forward. “If you look at your life from an eternal perspective…detective,” she giggled at that, “spirit is stronger than reality. Everything I’ve been through has brought me to this place, made me who I am. I am enlightened.” Then the smile completely left her face and her pale, dead look returned. She whispered as she repeated “I am enlightened.” Then she began to moan…almost as if she were in pain, but nothing on her face belied any emotion. She sounded tormented. The moaning grew louder until I couldn’t stand by and watch anymore. I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder, shaking her and saying her name to try and jolt her out of her dream-like state. Just as she began to howl the doctor walked in.

“Ms James!” The doctor rushed towards her grabbing her wrist to inspect it. I presumed he thought she’d slashed herself again.

“Ms James!” he repeated loudly. Mildred looked towards him, slid her legs out from under her and she looked at him, confused.

“Ms James, are you alright?” he asked. “Are you in pain?” She stared up at him, wide eyed and shook her head. He looked at me, a questioning look on his face.

“What happened?” he asked me. I shook my head, still reeling from the scene that had played out before me moments before, not about to tell the doctor what I had just witnessed. “I…I think she’s just upset,” I said, backing off to the wall so he could examine her. The sister came into the room and closed the curtains around her bed. I left quickly, recognizing her as the nurse I’d fancied during my hospital stay.

I felt stunned as I drove home. I didn’t remember how I got there, but when I did, another rude shock awaited me.