Paradise Harbour chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

We went over to my apartment to wait. Night was coming, and I was starting to get very nervous. Kasp looked unchanged. His blood was as cold as a snake’s.

He fixed me some coffee and told me to make my mind blank, to imagine infinite darkness. I struggled to do it, but it did slow my heartbeat a bit and improved my breathing.

“It’s almost time,” he said. We had our weapons ready.

The street was dim and full of shadows as usual. We made our way into the dark alley right behind Jackson’s mansion. The fence wasn’t very tall, and we saw only one guard. They must have felt very safe in there. We speculated on how many actual members he did keep there for safety or other reasons.

My heart rate revved up again as I began to focus with all my strength. Kasp climbed the fence and waited for me behind a bush. He signaled for me to stay put. Then Kasp sneaked up behind the guard and used his knife to kill him. He dragged the body into the shrubbery.

We then proceeded to cautiously enter the large house through the back door, which was unlocked. It was silent inside and mostly dark, with just some light from the street lamps and the moon coming through the windows. We inspected the first floor and found just one man asleep on the sofa. Kasp quickly eliminated him.

Then came a voice. “Where is Bob? He’d better not be sleeping on duty again.” “You didn’t see him through the window?” another man replied.

“No,” said the first one. “Should I go check?” “Yeah, go slow, take this.”

Kasp had moved silently into the shadows next to the stairway. A man came down the stairs quickly, making plenty of noise. He carried a shotgun. Kasp pounced on him and slit his throat, but just as the man fell, the shotgun went off, firing into the floor.

Next, we heard a great commotion and yelling on the upper floors. Two men were running down the stairs with guns. I fired at them with my shotgun as Kasp nailed one of them with his rifle.

“Into the room! Protect the wizard!”

We heard a door slam on the third floor as we slowly and silently crept up the stairs, guns at the ready. We reached the third floor, and there was a corridor to the left with just one door and a large window. That must be the room occupied by Jackson. All was quiet.

We waited several minutes. “There are two others in there with him,” whispered Kasp. He used his handgun to fire at the doorknob.

The door opened a crack, and many shots followed, putting holes in the wall but not into us, as we had anticipated the thugs’ reaction and stayed out of the way in the

stairwell. Once the shots stopped, Kasp grabbed my shotgun and sprinted to the door, kicking it wide and firing the shotgun at the same time. Someone returned fire, hitting him in the arm, but he used his left hand to repeatedly fire his revolver. I ran up, ready to fire as well, but it was all almost over. The two men lay dead, with the third one, Jackson, standing in the center of the room looking shocked and holding his shoulder, which was bleeding. Kasp’s right arm was also damaged and covered in blood, but he didn’t seem to care as he approached Jackson.

Jackson gaped when he saw me. “You? Have you lost your mind, Luc? You want to become the wizard yourself? Why are you doing this?”

“Listen, Wizard...do a magic trick, and I’ll let you go,” said Kasp, and smiled.

“You’ll pay for this...you won’t get away with this!”

“Abracadabra,” said Kasp, and fired a shot between Jackson’s eyes. The KKK leader fell back, lifeless.

We set fire to all the curtains on the ground floor and disappeared into the darkness. As Kasp had predicted, the authorities arrived much too late to save the building.

Kasp Nudd left me at my apartment and headed back to his place. He took my shotgun with him, saying he knew where to hide it well. I agreed and kept only my favorite revolver.

I lay in my bed, listening through my open window at all the commotion. Policemen, firemen, and neighbors came and went. While I was worried about being considered a suspect in the murders and arson, I couldn’t help but feel satisfied that perhaps Nudd and I had saved more lives than we had taken and avenged the lives of many others.

Close to morning, I finally fell asleep, but it wasn’t for long because of loud knocking on my door and someone yelling. I was sure it was the police as I wobbled over to open up. My head was heavy, and I could barely keep my eyes open.

To my surprise, at the doorstep stood Father Brannahan. When he saw me, he shoved a wad of money towards me.

“You lost this last time we met. I found it well after you left—lucky I did. I’m sorry for such an early intrusion, but it took a lot of effort to find where you live. I have to get going now to see to another event for the poor,” he said, as he hurried down the steps. I stared at him in disbelief. Why had someone planted money on me?

“Um, how much is this?” I asked in a tired voice.

“How should I know, son? It belongs to you, does it not? I don’t count another man’s money. Remember, the Lord taught us not to desire what belongs to another man.”

“Well, Father...as far as I know, the Lord also taught charity.” “Aye, that is correct.”

I followed him down the steps and pressed the money into his hand. “Please use this money to help fund your projects for the poor and the church.”

The bundle of money must have been more than a thousand dollars, but I felt this was the right thing to do. Brannahan thanked me incredulously, and I actually

convinced him to come inside so I could shower and change and then to eat with me at the diner.

Bill approached us and seemed surprised to see me with a priest. He asked no questions about it, but he did ask something else.

“Have you heard yet?” “About what, Bill?”

“Thormund Jackson and some of his people.” “No, what happened?”

“Didn’t you wonder what was happening around here with all the noise last night? Anyhow, two things: First, three men were found and burned to death at the cliffs the night before. Then, last night, Thormund’s house was lit on fire, and as far as I’ve heard, he is dead.”

“Wow!”

I tried to show as much surprise as possible.

“Yes, retaliation.” Bill grinned. “Anyway, you having the usual? How about you, Father?”

“I’ll have the same he’s having, whatever it is.” Bill walked away.

“I’m having waffles, eggs, and two coffees, Father.”

“And that’s just fine.” The priest’s eyes were dark with concern as he looked at me. “What are your feelings about this news? In your eyes, I could see no concern about Thormund’s death. However, when that gentleman mentioned men at the cliff being burned, I saw a spark of anger in your eyes.”

“Well, Jackson was a very, very bad man.”

“And you believe someone took his punishment into his own hands?” “Yes.”

“And are you proud of that person?” “I think so, yes.”

Father Brannahan leaned back, his face calm and kind, but he was thinking. “I have often pondered this. How does God react to those who take the punishment of the wicked into their own hands? I came to one certain conclusion—that I know very little about this.” Father Brannahan paused. “Perhaps it is God who drives those who punish the wicked. On the other hand, because He has granted us free will, God has no part in this sort of thing. But then, does He view it as wrong?” He shook his head. “I have read so much about various saints and people who have been chosen by God for specific tasks. It’s not even about choosing someone good or wicked. God may choose bad men to do divine tasks as well, to become holy tools. ‘Thou shall not kill.’ But what about defending others from harm? If we see evil being done and do nothing about it, aren’t we then part of that evil?”

I did not reply. I stared down at the wooden table and mulled over all that he said. It made me think deeply about my actions, but his refusal to pass judgement also made me feel better.

“Your face lightened up, Luc.”

I looked up at him, and our eyes met. He stared deep into my soul, and I, without any shred of doubt, understood that he knew I was the one.

The priest smiled beatifically at me. “All you have to do is talk to God and understand that this life is your boat, not your island. Jesus knows our hearts. He knows that any sin can be cleansed. You must understand that each day is a new beginning. It’s a new you. You don’t have to cling to sins of the past and surely should not anticipate sins in the future. Today you tell yourself that you’ll be the best you can be, and that’s it. And tomorrow, you’ll do the same. Continue learning and improving, and remember, God loves you.”

Just then, our food arrived. Father enjoyed the meal greatly and said it was the best food he’d had in months. I was happy to hear that. I owed the man a lot. His words had given me relief and hope during my most difficult times. Once we finished, he went on his way, and I was ready to continue my investigation.

I picked up the morning newspaper, and of course, the latest events hadn’t been reported yet. However, the most recent activity of the Night Hawk caught my eye. The story mentioned that several young women, who had not been identified, were victims. I scrambled to get to the police station to see if I could get more information.