Paradise Harbour chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

I set out to meet with Allard at The Hook Hotel. The streets seemed less busy than usual, and when I got to the harbour, the waters were calm. There was a pleasant, light breeze coming from the ocean. I slowly walked by the water and then heard a familiar voice call out to me. It was Cecilia. She hurried up to me and gave me a strong hug.

“My dear Luc! Are you coming with me tonight to Mitch’s party? Did you get my letter?”

“Yes, yes, of course I’ll accompany you.”

“Things in this town have been so crazy lately, even scary. Do you feel the same?”

I smiled at her, an oasis of beauty, calm, and happiness in a dark place. I took her hand and squeezed it. “Try not to fill your mind with fear. You are bright and beautiful, and today is a wonderful day. Everything will be all right.”

“Thank you, Luc.” She embraced me again, this time holding on a little longer.

“Would you walk with me a while?”

“A little bit, but then I must report to my employer. He is in town.”

She went onto a different subject. “Would you like to go out on a boat with me sometime?”

“I’d be delighted to. You love the water, don’t you?”

“Yes! It makes me feel peaceful and calm, even when the waves are strong and

high.”

“It makes me wonder...... ”

“What does it make you wonder?”

“About life, about secrets hidden deep within those old waters.”

She looked up at me, smiling and frowning at the same time. “Have you seen

something? Your eyes lit up as you said that, Luc.”

“I’m not sure, honestly. I’m not sure. It’s just a feeling, nothing to worry about.” “Oh look, soda and coffee.”

“Let’s get some, and then I have to get going, sweet Cecilia.”

We each got a bottle of soda and sat on the edge of the pier with our feet hanging off, and enjoyed chatting about the various things we saw. Afterwards, I hugged her tightly and headed to The Hook Hotel.

In front of the doors were now two men in black, who looked similar to the men I remembered Van Dausen having at our first meeting. Allard must have paid for security for the whole place while he was there. As I approached, they stopped me, but once I told them who I was, they immediately let me pass and told me to go to the end of the main hallway on the first floor.

As I entered the hotel, I was greeted by Mercedes, who sat in the lobby reading a book. I noticed it was Dante’s Inferno as she set it aside.

“Cheery book there, Mercedes.”

“A lot like this town?”

“Yes, very pleasant. How are you doing?”

“I’m in fine fettle, Luc. Mr. Van Dausen is waiting for you down the hall. Behind this building there is a restaurant called Bob’s; it’s well recommended. I think he wants to take you there to talk.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Just down the dimly lit hall was a circular room with dark green walls and a few paintings. A tired-looking Allard Van Dausen sat at a small table.

“Hello, Mr. Nistage.”

He stood up and shook my hand as I greeted him. Then, as Mercedes predicted, he led me out a door and into the restaurant. It was a luxurious place with marble- topped tables, apricot-colored walls, and pretty light fixtures. No one was inside except for the manager and waiters. Only one table had place settings and menus on it. It was obvious that Allard had paid for a private meal just for us.

The table was by the window, overlooking the beautiful and mysterious ocean. We sat down, and Allard advised that we look at the menu first and order before we discussed the job.

Though it was fairly early in the day, my eyes instantly lit on the chestnut roast with mashed potatoes and fresh asparagus with hollandaise sauce. Allard, on the other hand, ordered a trio of lobster tails. The waiter thanked us and stepped away, and then brought us some fresh rolls with sweet butter and iced tea.

“So, Mercedes has kept me up to date, but it’s been some time since your last report. I also will have you know that I have some of my men scouting the city now, asking questions as well. But before you get nervous, I want you to know that something deep inside of me still tells me that you’ll find my daughter. I just hope she’s alive.” Allard turned away for a moment and wiped a tear from his right eye. “Any major news for me?”

“There are several people who remain prime suspects. What makes this difficult are a few specific factors.”

“Such as?” Van Dausen fixed me with a penetrating gaze.

“These people are liars, are highly immoral, nothing they say can be trusted, and they feel completely above the law. I will have to stake out and keep watch on one of them for the next several nights and days, maybe longer, because, at this point, I feel that could lead me to something.”

“Whom will you be spying on, then?” “Mitch Stochild.”

Allard’s mouth was set in a thin line. After a few beats, he spoke. “He is the man who runs this city, and he has more influence than anyone. Mercedes said you found out something disturbing about him, but she said that details were better left for you to describe.”

I took a deep breath and a swallow of the tea. “Mitch is a leader of a cult in these parts. They perform very disturbing rituals.”

“And you believe Aranxa could have been a victim of this cult?”

“Yes, absolutely, but I need more evidence. There is nothing concrete. She might not be connected to Mitch or the cult in the end. It is very complicated. I’ve never dreamed that such a place as this existed. To describe it as corrupt and upside down would be a great understatement.”

Van Dausen sighed. “I’ve read some more about this. The Night Hawk—I shudder at the thought that she could have been his victim as well. What do you think? Why is it taking this city so long to stop this killer?”

“Because he provides cover for the big fish and creates chaos and fear. Once the public is in fear, it’s easy to manipulate them, control them, and squeeze all the money out of them. The police department is corrupt to the core here, and the city isn’t seeking help from the outside. There is just one honest detective on this case.”

“Luc, I’ll be completely honest with you. This cannot drag on for too much longer. I will want more answers soon. Each day is agonizing mental and spiritual torture.”

I thought of suggesting that he meet with Father Brannahan but realized that this comment could be viewed as insensitive. “Of course, Mr. Van Dausen. I will have the results soon. I feel I am close to the end of all this. My next step might lead me to a big discovery.”

“I sure hope so.”

Our meals came, cooked to perfection, but still not as tasty as the food I’d had at Stochild’s mansion. When we finished our dessert and coffee, I waited for Allard to excuse me. He sat a long time, staring into the ocean, his eyes filled with sadness. I could feel that hope was draining from him. A seagull landed near the window, and it brought himback to reality. He turned to me and nodded. I thanked him and left with a heavy heart. All the pressure on me had just intensified, and even though he did not seem violently inclined, if I were to fail, I knew that behind his calm mask was another man, one who was ruthless. After all, it was his daughter, and he had given me an incredible amount of money.

I went back to my apartment for a bit, just killing time. At this point, I was putting all of my eggs in one basket, and if Mitch wasn’t going to lead me to the revelation of this mystery, I wasn’t confident that anyone or anything else would. I went to Heavenly Diner for a cup of coffee. The street outside was quite busy, and through the window, Icould see workers clearing the mess from the burned mansion of Jackson Thormund.

Then I felt a tap on my shoulder and heard a familiar voice. I turned, surprised. It was Kasp Nudd.

“I saw you from the street. You always glued to the windows like this?” “I suppose.” I shrugged. “Please have a seat. I’ll get you something.”

“Sure, sure, just a coffee will do just fine. I am picking up some nice rare books from a scholar that lives around here, so that’s why I’m here.”

Bill stepped over, and Kasp made his order.

“Have you heard of Roland Garros?” he said, folding his arms on the table. I shook my head.

“Ah, well, he was a hero for the French during the war. I met him. I lived in France before the war started, you know, and during...sort of…well, more like all over the place at that point, fighting. Anyway, there is some argument as to whether Roland was the first ace pilot. Some claim he shot down more than five planes, but most say it was four.”

“Oh.” I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Well, like I said, I met him. He was an ace all right—fearless, the fire of freedom in his eyes. People used to say I had the same eyes, but by the end of the war, people were telling me I had bloodlust eyes. Strange how that works.”

“Terrible events change us.”

“Any! Any events change us! There are good, bad, and in between, but every event changes us, at least a little bit.” He leaned in closer to whisper, “Like what you did with me, it changed you, yeah? What affected you more, seeing those Klansmen burn their victims or getting revenge on them? Playing the judge and jury, yeah?”

“I don’t know, Kasp. It all...brought pain into my soul, into my heart. I’m not sure it changed me, but it made me understand the world better.”

Kasp slapped the table. “That is change, my friend. Revelations of reality. Revelations of cruelty and suffering. Ah, good, good coffee. Damn good coffee,” he said abruptly as Bill put the cup in front of him. He left the pot on the table.

I decided to change the subject. “Sure, so what kind of books?”

“Actually, old books about cults and clans, medieval pagans, that sort of thing.” “What do you think aboutthose times? Burning the witches and all?” I sipped

from my own coffee cup.

“I think a lot of things. Those times weren’t just savage times, my friend. Many great minds lived during those times as well. And you know, pagans used to steal Christian children and sacrifice them in their demon worship. I don’t feel bad for them getting eradicated, but I do want to learn more.”

“How old do you think are the cult’s origins in this area?”

“Origins? The root of it?” Nudd frowned, staring into his coffee cup. “As old as the human world, because theroot of it is human nature. Some fall for the charms while others don’t. You know?” Kasp finished his second coffee and stood up. “You be careful now, Luc. Remember, you come to me if you’re in danger. I will help you.”

“Thank you, Kasp. See you around.”

After he left the diner, I looked down into my coffee cup. The black grounds on the very bottom created the shape of octopus tentacles. I shook my head and quickly refilled the cup. As I poured, I thought I saw a blackbird sitting on the side of the table. Was my mind completely slipping?

I decided to visit a couple of places I hadn’t paid much attention to before. One of them was the largest park in the town, which had been a beautiful old square, not far from the city hall. As I had before, I got on a trolley and took a newspaper with me.

There were stories about power outages in the north part of the town, a new election coming up, and an interview with an actor, but this time surprisingly, there was no article about the Night Hawk. I was aware that many believed the Night Hawk

also kidnapped his victims or hid their bodies, so the lack of news did not mean the murders had slowed down, although one could hope. Perhaps he’d slipped, fallen, and died. How would that be? No one would ever know. Like Jack the Ripper, all would think the Night Hawk had simply gotten away with it or moved to another city.

When I arrived at the park, I was pleased to see the abundance of trees and noticed that the air had a scent of freshness. The colors around me were vibrant. A better-maintained section of the canal flowed through here. I meandered down to a path. Just on my left near the water sat two pretty young women, laughing and enjoying their day. On my right, a small boy was running back and forth between his mom and dad, his eyes sparkling with joy. That was the right kind of childhood; normalcy and love were blessings. I could not remember much of my own childhood. I sat on a bench and listened to the birds sing wonderfully. The laughter of the boy and the young women made me feel happier somehow. I felt that even if I felt despairing, there was still much joy and love in the world around me.

Suddenly my mind shifted to thinking about Night Hawk. I felt a need or the urge to punish whoever he was. How much laughter and joy had this person stolen from families like this one?

I knew the strong emotions I felt about the injustice here were my enemy. Then I thought of Charlie. Had killing the new version of him been an evil deed as well? Was I, too, a part of the town’s dark side? Or was I on a fool’s errand, trying to light a candle in the darkest spot in a secretive, evil place?

What I really needed to do was focus my mind and energy on one person only: Aranxa.

I got up and took a half-hour stroll by the water, thinking some more. I decided I would start watching Mitch tonight, right after his party. I watched a little bird by the water grab a small worm just before another one did. From up above, I heard several other birds chirp, probably indicating their desire to find some food as well. I noticed a little tunnel up ahead of me with many green bushes around it. I was curious to see what was on the other side. As I walkedthrough it, I followed the light at the other end. It felt poetic, walking towards it out of the dark. Once I emerged, Ifound a small garden with statuary all around it. So, this was the artist’s garden I had read about in one of the newspaper columns.

One of them caught my eye in particular. It stood by the water. It was a statue of a woman in a long dress. She was removing a mask from her face with her right hand. Half of her face was still masked, the other revealed. I looked down and read the name of the artist.

“Graham Stochild.”

Surely this had been done a long time ago by a relative of Mitch. Was the family already involved with the creature even before Mitch became an adult? The date on the statue was 1880, more than forty years ago. Why was I sosurprised? The roots had to be deep to create a strong tradition and to build influence. It was like a big tree. From a tiny seedling grows strong roots, and then the tree grows and spreads, creating other trees as well. Such was the nature ofmany things in nature and many schemes of man.

Education, medicine, science, politics, business, cults and clans, religion. From the seed came the roots, and then the rest was built. So, how important was it that the seed was planted with love and goodness rather than something else? Absolutely crucial. Like the seed planted by Christ against the seed planted by Satan.

It is easier to give in to evil rather than to strive to be good, noble, and honorable, kind and loving. Spreading theseeds of evil is easy because men constantly face sorrow, and to deal with these harsh realities with faith and hope is harder than to simply give in to blame, fear and anger.

I left the statue garden back through the tunnel. As I came back into the first area, I saw new people there; a few friends near the bench talking and a young couple sitting where the two young women had been before.

I decided to walk back to my place, and it took a long time. It was almost sunset when I reached my apartment and realized that I had to get ready quickly for the party.

As I was getting dressed, I noticed a whiskey bottle sitting on the table. For the first time in my life, I felt disgust towards it. The feeling came almost as a shock to me. I picked it up and held it, looking at it thoughtfully. I had no desire to drink it at all. I wondered what had caused this sudden change. Was it my thoughts about spirituality and understanding of Father Brannahan’s words? Perhaps it was my subconscious that had evolved and was trying to lead me to a better path, one that would give me more clarity.

I finished putting on my black suit and went over to Cecilia’s. The moment she opened the door, I was stunned by her beauty. She looked even more lovely than usual. She wore a silky white dress and long white gloves. A diamond clip glittered in her hair, and she held a white fox wrap. Her eyes were shining as she smiled up at me.

We took a cab to Mitch Stochild’s mansion and were greeted there by a servant, who led us inside. There were already many people there. A long buffet table held all sorts of food. Waiters were passing around drinks. Many guests held glasses of wine. There was laughter and chatter in the air. In the background, a jazz band could be heard playing a soft, low tune.

I immediately felt uncomfortable, like a fish out of water. Everyone here behaved in a way foreign to me. It was—fake. Fake attitudes, fake smiles, fake happiness.

Then I noticed Mitch. I realized that he indeed was a standout. As evil as I knew him to be, he was the special one, the one who drew these weak-spirited sheep toward him. Throughout history, men like him had the ability to do either great good or great evil. Some believed they were doing good, while their acts were viewed by most as evil. Was Mitch a believer in his own actions? Did he view himself as good?

He noticed us and approached. “Dear, dear lovely couple. Two such splendid young flowers together— Oh, perhaps being referred to as a flower offends you, Luc?”

“Not at all, Mitch,” I smiled. Fake. “How are you tonight? The party looks...fun.” “Hmm, I can tell you are nota great admirer of such gatherings, but they are

good! Good for me at least, and good for your stomach, no?” He pointed at the table.

“Oh Mitch, this is really wonderful!” said Cecilia, bubbling with enthusiasm.

“Thank you, my dear. Well, I have to greet many other guests, but you go ahead and enjoy the festivities.” He wandered away, glad-handing and greeting the sycophants he passed.

As the night went on and we ate and danced, I avoided alcohol and only drank tea. I kept my eyes on Mitch as much as I could without neglecting Cecilia, but nothing appeared to be amiss. The only strange thing I noticed was when a young woman and several men approached the back wall behind the band. Mitch met them, and they all disappeared into a hallway. After some time, the men re-emerged and left. A few minutes later, Mitch also reappeared, but I never saw the young woman again. For the rest of the night, I watched for her, to no avail.

When the party began to dwindle, Cecilia, who had imbibed quite a bit, and I took a cab back to our apartment building. On the way home, she fell asleep leaning against me. This was an uncomfortable situation for me, as I felt awkward carrying her into her apartment when she had not actually invited me in. Once inside, I laid her gently on the sofa in the living room. I dared not search for her bedroom with her in such a state. I covered her with a warm wool blanket I found in a basket near the fireplace, left the keys on the side table, and left.

But my night was far from over. Immediately I got back into the cab. So the driver wouldn’t getsuspicious, I had him drop me a few blocks away from Mitch’s mansion, right by the water. From there, I walked to the mansion, staying close to the water. I found a small dock with what I figured was Stochild’s yacht firmly tied toit and hid among some large boulders by the water, wondering about that young woman.

Once everyone had left the party, I understood that I had been right to follow my gut feeling. Two men came down the steps that led to the mansion, went aboard the yacht, and began to prepare it for sailing. Shortly after, they went back up to the house, and to my horror and sadness, when they returned, they were walking the blindfolded young woman to the boat with her hands tied behind her. Right behind them was Mitch, following with confident strides.

I had to act quickly. Desperately I peered around and noticed a boat tied to a floating dock farther down the shoreline. I knew it was a crime to take someone’s rowboat, but I had to see this through. I managed to get over to it in the darkness and cut the rope.

Mitch’s craft had set sail, surely towards the island. I began to row the boat using all of my strength. Adrenaline and the firm conviction that I had to carry out justice filled me with a righteous furor.

The waves were rough but manageable. I pushed and pulled the oars rhythmically and made sure to pace myself. The ship was getting away, but I followed its light, and when they reached the island, I could still see them in the distance.

I had to find a place to hide the boat and cut through the undergrowth so any guards on Mitch’s boat would not see me. By the time I found a likely spot, my muscles felt like they were on fire, but so was my heart, filled with a powerful mix of terror and courage. I took out my revolver and silently made my way through the trees and the bushes,finding the cave entrance once again. I could see the ship from there, and

indeed both guards had remained on it, which meant Mitch had taken the girl inside by himself.

I walked through the cold and dark cave, carefully shielding my flashlight and sliding along the wall, trying to not make any loud sounds. Suddenly I heard a piercing scream, cut short. I sped up my pace to reach the large chamber.

When I got there, the torches were lit, and I could see that the chair in front of the black hole was covered in blood. There was no creature and no girl. It must have taken her. In front of the chair was Mitch, kneeling on the groundand surrounded by candles. I pointed my revolver at him and slowly approached. He felt my presence and turned his head. His eyes got large as he saw me, and he stood up.

“Luc? What are you doing here, my young friend?” “I know who you are...I know who you really are.” “And who’s that?”

“You are the cult leader, worshipping that...thing...a demon, a monster. What did you do to that girl?”

“Oh my, oh my. Calm down, Luc, I’m not your enemy! Look, it’s an ancient being. You are smart. You can understand. He is wise beyond humans, but he needs to feed on memories, and sometimes on flesh, too.”

“You sick bastard,” I spat. “Is that what you did to Aranxa Van Dausen?” “Hahaha, oh, no, no...Luc.” He approached with open arms.

“Don’t move again!!!”

He stopped and smiled at me, confident and charismatic as ever. “Luc, a young man already with such a pained soul and hurting heart! I can take it all away, and all you will feel is bliss, I promise you.”

“Stay away, you murderer.” I held the gun with both hands, pointed straight at his head.

“Hah, Luc. That’s ironic, coming from a man running around town with the Night Hawk.”

“What??”

“Luc, you are a good investigator, but your experiences here have clouded your mind. Kasp Nudd is the Night Hawk! That wasn’t obvious to you?” He shook his head. “You think I don’t know? You think it’s normal the way he enjoys the killing and how he kills?”

My mind went to the image of Kasp squeezing out Kramik’s eyes. Cold sweat appeared on my forehead. Could it be true?

“Now, lower your weapon and come to me. You will feel you’re in paradise! You came to a city called Paradise Harbour, and indeed I can give you that! You will be my apprentice after your magnificent transformation!”

As he spread his arms wider, I shot him twice in the chest. When he fell, I walked up to his body and shot him in the head to make sure he was gone. Then I ran as fast as I could out of that evil place. As I came out of the cave, the two guards were swiftly approaching the entrance. I locked eyes with one of them before I ran into the darkness among the trees.

Rowing back through the dark waters, I expected the ship to chase me down, but it never happened. I guessed that perhaps the henchmen were probably in shock, having found their beloved leader dead. When I reached the shore, I was completely exhausted, but instead of heading home, I decided to go somewhere else. I simply had to know. I had to check. I headed towards Kasp Nudd’s house.

The streets were dark, and a dense fog was setting in. Despite this being an atmosphere that could seemdangerous, I actually felt comfortable. The fog added to the dark night meant it would be unlikely I’d be seen. I hadlearned the best shortcuts to get to Kasp’s store and home, so it took me only about an hour to get there.

I stayed hidden in a doorway nearby and watched Nudd’s door and the street for a while. There was no movement. Then I swiftly walked across and gently tried the door. It was locked, but I picked the lock and quietly opened the door.

I got inside and pressed my back against the wall. First, I ever so slowly and cautiously checked the bookstore. It was dark, and no one was there. I proceeded through the door in the back and into Kasp’s actual home. I stood by thestairs listening, and as I began to ascend, I noticed a faint glimmer of light coming from the slightly opened basement door. I crept back down and put my ear to the crack and heard a sawing sound. I ducked inside the door, and with my revolver ready, I went down the stairs at a snail-like pace.

As I reached the bottom of the steps, a horror even greater than that I’d experienced with the cult greeted me. The walls of the basement were covered with human bones and skulls. There were shelves with bottles of preserved body parts and organs. On the floor lay what looked like a stack of human skins. I could see the letter Z carved into the top one.

Over in a corner, Kasp was leaning over a table, cutting something, with his back

to me.

At that moment, Kasp Nudd turned around. He held a small saw in his hands

and an arm in another, and when he saw me, he placed both of those back on the table. His face was calm. With my hand trembling, I raised my revolver and pointed it at him. “What…and why...?” I could barely force myself to speak.This man had saved

my life. Without him, I’d have been dead for days.

Kasp smiled faintly. “Why not, Luc? Don’t look so sad! These are just...” he gestured around the room, “…people.”

“People with their own lives, dreams, hopes, families, free will!” I shook my head as if by doing so, I could get rid of the horror in this room.

“Ah, yes. Well, I suppose I am a very ill man.” He held up his hands in surrender. “You can kill me. I don’t mind.”

He stood still, without moving, his gaze relaxed and steady. I could tell he was serious.

“Why don’t you stop? Will you kill again, or will you stop?” “Oh, I will surely kill again.”

My hand kept trembling as I tried to aim. Kasp stood there without moving a muscle. There was only one thing to do. With all the courage I had left, I pulled the trigger. The hit was directly between his eyes.

I sat back on the steps, sobbing. Only one thought swirled in my mind. Even if I survived all of this in the end, how badly would my mind be damaged for the rest of my life? All that money—it wasn’t worth it.

Nevertheless, I promised myself that I’d see the case to the end. I left that basement of unspeakable horrors and headed out to find Willems.