Paradise Harbour chapter 2

Chapter Two

That night I sat by my window observing the poorly lit street and sipping whiskey for a long time—whiskey that tasted bad due to poor quality and which I had not obtained legally, of course. Something inside of me told me that my life was about to change forever—or was it something outside of me that was saying this? After so many shots of whiskey, I was no longer sure. I fell asleep where I sat by the window.

The following day I was to meet Allard Van Dausen in a former bar called Golden Milton at three o’clock in the afternoon. It was odd to be going to a place that now operated only as a restaurant because of the ban on alcohol. I got my best clothes out, which looked almost as worn and poor as my other ones. A black coat, an old white shirt, and black pants. I had only one pair of shoes, so there were no options to explore in that department. Before leaving, I sat and smoked three cigarettes to calm my nerves. When I stepped into the restaurant, there was no one inside except for the bartender and two tall men in black, whom I noticed both had guns beneath their short jackets. In the back of the empty place sat a short man with grey hair and pale skin. I approached. As he motioned for me to sit down, I noticed two rings on his right hand.

One had a triangular symbol on it, and the other had the letter “C” created of tiny diamonds.

“What shall we be drinking?” he asked in a dry voice as I sat down. He noticed the hesitation in my eyes. “You can have anything you wish right now.”

“Then we shall drink whiskey,” I said.

Van Dausen smiled and signaled to the bartender, who quickly brought a bottle of fine whiskey and two glasses.

“You met beautiful and witty Mercedes. She informed me of your agreement. I chose you after my men examined those who have dealt with missing persons cases. I had two criteria: a high success rate and youth. You meet both requirements.” Van Dausen proceeded to take two thick envelopes out of a slim black briefcase he had at his side. “One of these contains your first payment, your apartment keys, and legal documents you may need. The second has photos of my daughter and notes she wrote herself about work and other things,” he said, and took a shot of whiskey. “Ahh, this is a good one.”

I tried it and agreed with him. This made the bottle I had at home seem like piss

water.

“What do you know about the town? I don’t even know the name of it yet,” I

smiled.

“Paradise Harbour. I plan to go there myself soon to meet any big players in that area who might know something. The bad news is that I sent two of my men there when she didn’t show up for the holidays, and those two men did not return.” He stopped and observed my expression.

I remained calm on the outside while my heart was trying to break through the walls of my ribcage. I started to down the whiskey in one gulp but slowed my hand as I lifted the glass to my face.

“Cool as a cucumber,” said Van Dausen. “I knew I was making the right choice. I am also sending a case of weapons for you. They’ll already be delivered, as well as a case of this good stuff we are drinking. But don’t forget why you are there, Mr. Nistage.” His tone contained a slightly sinister warning.

I gulped. “Thank you,” I said, and rose to leave. He presented me with a train ticket for that very night. I was in no position to complain, considering he had just handed me a ton of cash. I was very fortunate; perhaps God was smiling upon me, or maybe Paradise Harbour had a deceptive name. Either way, I was all in, and I was ready to find out which one it was.

It was a damp evening; most passersby had umbrellas ready. I went to the station and stood between two benches to wait. On my right sat an old man in old and rather shabby clothes. I watched him give up his place on the bench to a young mother with a baby, despite the fact that his thin legs were shaking. To my left sat a well- dressed man of enormous size, his face buried in the newspaper. The lighting at the station wasn’t very good. Was he even seeing anything? Beside him stood a lady. What an interesting contrast there was between the older gentleman who gave up his seat and this ignorant slob. Here was a simple summary of our world, as it could be seen in a basic everyday-life situation. I laughed to myself. I thought how money shaped my world as well. Just at the mere mention of Dausen’s money, I had jumped on this bone of opportunity like the most beastly of dogs.

Out of the fog, the black train appeared. Before the old chap could grab his suitcase, I snatched it up and told him I was going to load it up for him. He placed his hand on my arm and gave me a look of gratitude, which made my night and gave me a renewed boost of hope and confidence in my character.

Allard had gotten me a compartment all to myself, with personal service to boot. I sat at the table drinking black tea and patiently waiting for the train to move. I did not want to open the envelope with the photos before we departed. I had some strange and peculiar—possibly superstitious—habits.

Once the train began to chug on its way, I took out the photos of Aranxa. She was a very plain-looking girl but appeared to be studious in nature. I could tell this by her expression and the deep intelligence in her eyes. There were documents regarding the Garrison School of Medicine and a hospital by the same name. According to these notes, this girl was making some sort of breakthrough discovery in the skin care of burned or injured victims. She had been invited to study there by the school. She was smart, indeed. This information clarified things a little. Perhaps someone wanted to force her to give up what she knew? I had to be careful and not draw any early conclusions. I had learned in life that things can be completely different from what we perceive them to be.

It was the middle of the night when the train abruptly stopped. I was still awake, studying and pondering the documents. The black tea was a good tool for keeping

sharp and alert at night. I peered out of my window. We were in the middle of a wooded area. Surely there was no station here? I hid my revolver beneath my black coat and quietly opened the door of my compartment.

There seemed to be some sort of commotion in the next car over, but the sounds were muffled, and I could barely hear anything. I went out into the hallway and waited. A middle-aged woman with blonde hair came out of her room in a white robe. By the look of the robe and the slippers she wore, I instantly deducted she was wealthy. Of course, Allard had most surely put me in the luxury section of the train. Upon seeing me, the woman frowned and hastily went back inside, firmly closing her door. I once again stood alone in the hall. My eyes wandered to the window. For a moment, I thought I saw someone running among the dark trees. Startled, I focused my eyes and moved closer to the glass. I strained to see but discerned nothing.

A hand touched my shoulder, and I jumped. It was the steward. He informed me that one of the passengers had collapsed in the hall and was now being attended to in a separate compartment.

The train began to move again. I sat back at my compartment’s small table and stared into the trees outside. Nothing. The blackness of the night drew me in, and as I relaxed, an image flashed before my eyes. It was a face, pale, with horribly peeling skin. I shook my head and got into my bunk. My mind was playing tricks on me.

Staring out into the dark woods wasn’t such a good idea, and I didn’t even have any whiskey on me. It was too risky to bring contraband onto the train.

I closed my eyes, but then in my imagination, I instantly saw someone standing among the trees. I jumped up and stared outside the window again.

“What the hell?”

This had never happened to me before. I wasn’t sure what to make of it all, but it made me nervous. I stepped out into the hallway again and looked up and down. There was no one out. Everything was quiet, with just the sound of the train rolling on.

Now the view outside had changed. There were open fields, and I could see the stars in the clear sky. I groaned inwardly. I had to get some sleep. I knew we still had many stops ahead of us, and it was a long trip. I turned to go back inside the compartment, glancing at the window at the end of the car. I could see someone standing there, staring at me. He wore a white fedora, and the face was barely visible, but I felt his eyes watching me. For a moment, I froze with my hand automatically gripping the handle of my revolver. We entered a tunnel, and everything went dark, and when the train came out of it, the man was gone.

My nature is calm and resistant to stress, but a sinister feeling came over me. I went back inside my room and locked the door. I sat on the bunk and looked at the money inside the envelope. What had I gotten myself into? This was going to be no routine missing-person case. These were uncharted waters of my life, and to sail them, I needed to muster all of the courage and resilience I had, more than ever before.

That night I managed only a few hours of sleep. In the morning, I was brought eggs and toast. I asked for two extra cups of coffee, and thankfully I had no more visions. By nightfall, we were supposed to reach our destination not far from Paradise

Harbour, a town called Murbery. From there, Allard had arranged for a driver to take me to my destination.

The eggs, for some reason, tasted better than any I’d ever had before, but then again, these weren’t days old and cooked in my old worn skillet. These were a work of an excellent chef in a luxurious arrangement. I was greedily gulping down the coffees, adding just a bit of milk. I even asked for a fourth cup.

As the day wore on, the ride was feeling more tiresome. I wondered about the girl and the two missing men who had been sent after her. How dangerous was this task? What would someone like Allard do if I did not succeed but survived? He had given me a lot of money. I was building a pyramid of pressure inside my head.

At the end of the day, as the sun set, I was pleased that it had been uneventful. Lying down felt good, and I got a few more hours of sleep before arriving at the final stop.

When I got off the train, the air was extremely fresh, and I could see many tall trees around the station. It was dark, and there were only a few exterior lights. The train departed, and I stood there with some other passengers. As per my instructions, I was supposed to wait for a man named Mike, apparently, an older gentleman, who was to be my driver. I waited patiently. As everyone else left and I was the only one remaining at the station, there was still no sign of Mike or anyone else for that matter. On the other side of the station and tracks was a dark forest, and I tried not to look at it, remembering my visions, but I also felt uncomfortable turning my back on it. This dilemma made the long wait even less pleasant. What was I afraid of?

As I stood there, I saw some car lights blinking up the road behind the station and heard some shouting. I reluctantly walked down the steps and then up the highway. There was a man standing there, looking out into a ditch by the side of the road. His car had its lights on, and he held a flashlight. Behind him stood another car with a flat tire on the left side. This man had grey hair but did not look all that old.

“Mike?” I asked as I approached.

He turned and grimaced, shaking his head. “I think Mike is there.” He pointed his flashlight into the ditch, and I saw an old man lying there. I will not even describe the state his face was in, but he was obviously dead. “I only know that’s Mike because of the car. I saw it standing by the side of the road. I sent my boy into town to bring the sheriff. And who may you be? I’m Stanley.”

I shook the man’s hand and explained that Mike was supposed to drive me to Paradise Harbour. Incredibly, he offered to take me there after the sheriff arrived. I offered to pay him well, but he settled for a very modest fee instead. A man of integrity, I thought. However, this did not relieve the shock and horror of what had happened to Mike. What or who had done this to him? I remembered my visions, and a chill ran down my spine. I sat down by the side of the road, exhausted and waiting.

After about half an hour, we saw the sheriff’s car approaching. First emerged a young man in his twenties, and by the looks of it, Stanley’s son. Then out came the sheriff, a tall man with short hair and a rough face. He nodded to me and greeted Stanley. After examining the body, he looked as confused as I was.

“Never seen nothin’ like this before,” the sheriff commented. His expression was grim. “Mebbe a bear or a wolf got him.” He took short statements from Stanley and me and let us go.

Stanley dropped off his son at home, and we began the drive. I had already given him the money. Earlier I had been too nervous to notice his hand, but now I could see deep scars crisscrossing the back of it.

“I hope you don’t mind my asking, but how did you injure your hand?” I asked.

“My son and I are hunters. Thought I’d gotten a wolf, but ended up I just winged him. He bit me pretty bad when I bent down to pick up his carcass. My son shot him before he could do any more damage,” Stanley said, ruefully.

I leaned my face against the cold glass of the car window. I remained there despite the ride being bumpy. My mind whirled. It was amazing to me how much I’d gone through emotionally on this trip, and my investigation hadn’t even begun yet. Everything indeed did have its price.

Luckily for me, we crossed the bridge and reached Paradise Harbour without further surprises. Stanley took me all the way to the apartment on the ironically named Sinner Street. I thanked him and got out of the car.

As I approached my door, I breathed in the pleasant ocean air. It was the middle of the night, and the only living thing I saw on the dimly lit street was a lone cat sitting in the center of the road. I went inside and, without much observation, simply located the bed and fell onto it, exhausted, and immediately fell asleep.