Paradise Harbour chapter 5

Chapter Five

I began to dream, or actually to have a nightmare. I was stuck in a black cell at the bottom of a deep pit. I could hear rats running around and scratching. I felt the cold walls around me. There was no escape. After a long time in this pit, I heard something being lowered toward me. It was the face of a young man that suddenly began melting into the face of an older man. He screamed in desperation and horror, and then I woke up.

The sun had just barely risen. I slowly sat up, feeling some discomfort in my lower back. The stress was affecting my physical state. I looked outside, and there was some movement already. I remembered that I had forgotten to visit a market to get some food, but I did have coffee, and I had picked up milk from Bill’s place last night. So that was my breakfast, a huge cup of coffee with milk. I sat by my slightly cracked- open window listening to the sounds of the town in the early morning, slowly sipping my wake-up elixir.

Kilkatonix University was my first destination this morning, or more precisely, the Garrison School of Medicine, which was part of that university.

There was one trolley line in town, and I got myself a ticket after figuring out which stop was closest to the university.

I sat in the trolley station by the window to watch the streets. There were only a few other people inside with me. One was an older man who looked like he’d just crawled out of a coffin; there was a uniformed young lad with a giant forehead, perhaps also headed to the university; and a mother in a pretty white dress with two kids who were fooling around. Finally, a middle-aged man in an old, worn-out jacket, his work- worn hands folded together, sat right across from me, his eyes filled with fatigue, already anticipating the work day ahead.

I looked at the man, and in my imagination, his whole life flashed before me. His poor upbringing, his struggles, his depression. I realized that despite the horrors I’d already faced and anticipated encountering, I was still fortunate. I had an opportunity to become wealthy at a young age. Not many got a chance like this.

At the first stop, the mother with her kids got off. It looked like a nice clean neighborhood. A man with a large, curling mustache, in a tall black hat and a black suit, got on and flipped open a newspaper as he sat in a seat opposite me.

Night Hawk Horror Continues! A New Victim is Discovered by Detective Robert Willems!

That was the headline of the newspaper. Jolly town, this. That detective clearly had a tough job as well. I wondered if he might be a good source to talk to about the matters I was looking into.

My stop was next, and as I got up, so did the monstrous forehead boy. I was right indeed, a student at the university.

I stepped off the trolley and immediately faced a tall, long, red brick wall. I decided to follow the student, who then was joined by a few others, and they led me to

an old green metal arch with “Kilkanotix” written across the top. There was a large sign in the wall next to the gate, which gave a brief introduction to the university and its history. Kilkatonix University, built in 1865 by the Garrison and Thormund families. Renovated in 1901 by the sons of the founders. Here we welcome you to expand your knowledge and grow.

So that’s why Garrison Medical School was here as well. And Thormund? That meant the man in the diner, the Klan leader, or a relative. I knew I’d soon have my answers as I walked up a long set of stairs and stood in front of the school’s library. On the right was a fountain, and by it stood a tall, wavy-haired young man yelling something and waving a paper sign.

“Stop Sut Ni Tul clan! We must stop Sut Ni Tul clan!”

I wondered what sort of clan this was. Perhaps some school organization? As I pondered this, several men appeared and told the student to leave. I proceeded to enter the library, a building with large white columns.

Inside, straight away, a middle-aged, bespectacled woman with blonde braids wound around her head approached me. “I’m Miss Jenkins, the librarian. Welcome, and please keep quiet. Ask me if you need anything,” she whispered, looking rather nervous.

I kept my voice as low as I could and asked if I could use the archive section. She nodded and left. I gazed at the neoclassical details inside the domed room. It was a beautiful old library, but rather small. I changed my mind about searching the archives. I found Miss Jenkins and asked her for directions to the Garrison School of Medicine.

The school of medicine was a much simpler white-painted brick building with a triangular roof. A brass plaque on the wall indicated that it was founded by Dr. Stanley Garrison and was now run by Dr. Stanley Garrison Jr. The dean’s name was apparently Mr. Polus.

Unlike most university buildings, there was a reception desk just inside the front door. A woman wearing a nurse’s uniform sat behind it. Her name tag indicated that she was Sarah McLellen.

I introduced myself. “I need to speak to either Dr. Garrison or Mr. Polus,” I said.

Sarah consulted a list on a clipboard. “Unfortunately, they are both out of the building right now,” she replied, setting down the clipboard. “I can see if Dr. Kramik is available. He is a medical doctor and a research scientist. He is next in charge.” Sarah looked at me expectantly. I nodded, and she indicated a flight of stairs curving up to the second floor. “First door on your right,” she said.

Kramik! One of the names from Aranxa’s notes!

As I mounted the stairs, I heard vigorous arguing inside the room to the right. There was a small plaque that said “Dr. Kramik” on the left side of the door. Moments later, a man with a round, florid face and large round eyes, with the name Dr. Ambigo embroidered on his lab coat, stormed out, looking furious. He muttered, “Excuse me,” as he passed, brushing by me. I was impressed that someone would be so polite to a stranger when he was obviously very angry.

I cautiously knocked on the door, and a calm, cool, almost sinister voice answered, “Come in.”

The man who sat at the desk looked as though he was completely unperturbed. His face was abnormally thin, and so were his lips and eyebrows. His deep-set eyes were dark and piercing. I introduced myself.

“What can I do for you today...you said your name is Luc? Private investigator?” He paused and smiled slightly. “Has someone been murdered? Now that would be a shocker in this town.”

“I’m actually investigating a missing person case. Aranxa Van Dausen. Did you know her?”

“Oh yes, but excuse me for a moment. I must use the restroom.” He nodded and left the room. Dr. Kramik seemed calm at the mention of Aranxa’s name.

I looked around the room. There were many strange drawings on the walls, which I did not understand. On one of the small tables lay the skull of a goat, and on another the skull of a human.

“So yes....” I heard his voice and turned. Kramik sat down in his office chair. “I knew her—arrogant, rich braaat.” He stretched the word out and chuckled. “Those things, even coupled with a lot of talent, can cause you to make some dangerous enemies in this town. And besides, have you heard of our serial killer? A mastermind. Night Hawk, they call him. Some of his victims are found in such shape that there is no way to identify them. Maybe your Miss Van Dausen was careless one night.”

Kramik certainly didn’t think much of his fellow human beings, a strange trait in a doctor. “We shouldn’t blame the victims, I think. Do you have any papers of hers? Anything specific that could help me?” The man’s demeanor was unsettling.

“No,” he said, lighting a cigarette with a large gold lighter. Kramik took a long draw on the cigarette and blew a geyser of smoke toward the ceiling. “You should file a report and speak to our detective, Robert Willems. He’s quite an annoying character himself. Maybe you’ll find him amusing. Well, I have to get back to work.” Obviously, he was giving me nothing further.

I thanked Kramik for his time and left, but I knew without any doubt that he was hiding something, and the feeling I got from him was not good. I had to make sure to watch this man at night. For the moment, I decided that going to the police station was actually a good idea indeed and part of my plan.

But my stomach growled, and a wave of low energy hit me. I entered the very first eatery I saw, DV’s. It was even more spare than the Heavenly Diner. With only a few people inside, I got my order of a sandwich and a coffee quickly. The food was quite satisfactory despite being very simple. I found the police station on my map and decided to walk there, as it wasn’t far from the university. I decided to forego transportation and give my legs some exercise.

As I walked across the street, I heard the familiar sound of a harmonica. I turned my head, and there at the corner was Charlie. I remembered then that I also had to investigate his story, but that would have to wait for another time. I walked up to him, and his eyes sparkled as he saw me. I warmly greeted him and dropped a dollar into his

hat. He thanked me sincerely and said he was very hungry, and he now had enough cash to get a few things at the market. That reminded me that I needed to do some shopping as well. Charlie said there was a store nearby and pointed to it on my map. Fortunately, it was on the way to the police station. This was perfect. Get groceries, try to find that Detective Willems, then go and rest at home. The day was going almost too well. I hoped it would continue to roll on smoothly. I shook Charlie’s hand and continued on my way.

I turned into a street which was a shortcut judging from the map, but what I saw was an old abandoned trolley with its red paint peeling. There were a few homeless men seated against a brick wall. I walked past the trolley. The street was long, and I saw no one else ahead, just old buildings that appeared to be abandoned. I proceeded with caution, carefully checking every corner and side alley. On one of the old broken doors, I saw “Sut Ni Tul” written in white paint. I remembered the young man yelling about it. I was hesitant to check it out, but curiosity overpowered me, and I pushed on the door. It gave in immediately, falling to the floor and raising a clout of dust.

It was pretty dark, and I couldn’t really see anything of note, but I was startled by a sound in a corner. I swiftly drew my pistol, and a homeless man curled in the corner cowered and yelled, “Don’t shoot!” I holstered the pistol and wondered how he had gotten into the house, and I noticed a large hole in the wall, partially covered by an old quilt.

“Hey, you, calm down. What is Sut Ni Tul?” I asked him calmly.

“I dunno, some club? Go to the Dark Turtle and ask. They used to have members of it goin’ in there, but, well...since so many murders in these parts, I don’t know nothing about it anymore.”

“Murders?”

“The Night Hawk kills a lot around here, sir. Coppers don’t care about people here.” The man lifted a bottle wrapped in a paper bag to his lips.

“What’s the Dark Turtle?”

“It’s a bar at the end of the street, right on the water canal.”

I thanked him and left the house. I shouldn’t have taken this detour, but now I had to check further, so I sped up my steps to get to the Dark Turtle.

This was certainly not the best part of town. Mist was coming in off the water, and farther ahead, there was a group of men, clearly drunk, wearing ragged clothes, yelling and throwing things. To my left, I saw a sign that read “Golden Books.” In spite of the rundown street, this bookstore was actually open, and to avoid the men, I stepped inside.

It was a surprisingly cozy and neat establishment. Most of the walls and shelves were made out of dark brown wood, and the floor was covered with a deep, dark green carpet. A bell had rung when I entered the store, and from behind the shelves, I heard a rich, hearty, “Welcome!” I made my way around the shelves and came upon a man sitting at a black desk. A table lamp made a pool of light on the desktop, and an open book sat in front of the man.

His voice did not fit his frame at all. The man had long black hair, a sharp nose, and rather small green eyes, but the most unusual thing about his visage was a long thin scar running down the left side of his face from his temple to his chin. I tried not to stare at the scar.

“I’m Kasp Nudd, the owner of this store. Do you like books?” he asked, and placed a bookmark in the open book and closed it. I read the title upside down. Dark Rituals. Great.

“My name is Luc. And yes, I like books. But—aren’t you concerned, running a business in this part of town?”

“Worried?” He chuckled. “Turn around.” He pointed behind me.

I turned and saw a large glass cabinet. It showcased a uniform from the Great War adorned with many medals.

“Anyone who messes with me in these parts should be worried...not me. And they all know it.”

“But how about this killer I have heard about? Night Hawk?”

Nudd shrugged and gave a smile that softened his looks considerably. “Night Hawk is not a problem for me. Is there anything, in particular, you are looking for?”

Sometimes you have to go down the path that’s in front of you. “I’ll be honest with you, Kasp. I want to know more about what Sut Ni Tul means, and I’m looking for a missing young lady.”

“Ah, now we’re talking.” Nudd sat back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach, which was covered by a striped vest with a watch chain and fob. “The Sut Ni Tul clan. They’re demon worshipers, Luc. They worship a sea creature, a monster. They have dark priests who conduct rituals on people. I’m learning more about them. Reading a lot about old rituals and pagan practices.” He looked at me piercingly. “There is only one way to deal with such evil. You be careful...and maybe we can help each other eventually.”

I was puzzled and intrigued. “How so, Kasp?”

“I want this clan gone from Paradise Harbour, and you are looking for a missing woman. You understand? We can help each other.”

“But what is your plan?”

He gave a weak smile. “It’s simple. Find them, kill them,” he answered.

Not quite the answer I expected. Was Kasp Nudd crazy? “Oh...I think that might not be the route I’ll have to take.”

“You think that now, Luc, but soon you’ll be back, and you’ll see that I am a man who can help you and maybe even save you. Good luck.” He reached for his book.

I looked out the window and saw that the street was clear. I thanked Kasp Nudd and left.

As the homeless man had told me, at the end of the street, I found the canal with a dock and a bar with a sign saying The Dark Turtle right next to it. I was pondering what Kasp had told me and figured I’d better not discount anything, especially after all I’d seen. I decided I’d try to get out of this neighborhood and head home after visiting the Dark Turtle, so I wouldn’t end up in this area when darkness fell.

I entered through the doors, and to my surprise, the place was quite bright. The walls were white, and the bar, tables, and chairs were made of light-colored wood. Behind the bar stood a middle-aged man. At the bar stood another man, a bit stocky with a red face, clearly drunk, and one waitress was organizing the tables. There was no one else inside. Obviously, the Prohibition rules didn’t apply here, and as I already knew, the police didn’t care much for this area, so a drunkard wasn’t a surprise at all.

I approached the bar and sat on a stool. “What will it be?” asked the man. “Beer?” I asked hesitantly.

“One coming up.”

“What’s your name? Are you the owner?” “I’m John, and yes, Dark Turtle is mine.”

“I saw the sign—it says you’re open all night?”

“Yeah, I live upstairs, so does Maria.” He pointed at the waitress. “She helps when I need a nap, and sometimes my brother does too. Actually, he’s napping now.”

“You’re not worried about the neighborhood?”

“Why? All the crazy crap happens outside, not in here. I always stay inside at night. You should too. You’re obviously new around here. The coppers don’t care to come around here neither. No one to fear as long as I stay indoors.” He placed a beer in front of me.

“Ahh, smells good.” I took a sip. “Tastes great too. Been a while since I had one.” “Great, glad you like it...um  ”

“Luc.”

“Good, good. Welcome, Luc.”

“So, what do you think about the killings? Any suspects? Have you seen strange men here?”

“Hahaha!” John threw back his head and laughed heartily. “Strange men are all I get in here! You’re strange too!”

I smiled; he was right, indeed. “I’m actually a private investigator. Looking for a missing woman.”

“Oh boy, lots of ‘strange men’ in these parts, ‘specially with that clan around. They used to come in here and eye Maria as well, but I shot one of ‘em, and they stopped coming, and then the Night Hawk started killing ‘em. Not as many of them around here anymore.”

“Wait.  Night Hawk, he kills anyone, right?”

“That’s what the papers write, that’s what the top men spread, but here we know he hunts members of that freaky Sut Ni Tul clan, and the Klan too...you know what I mean?”

“Wow.... ”

I paused for a moment, thinking about it. So this serial killer, he must have some kind of a vendetta against these groups.

“Don’t think about too much, man. Who’s the missing lady you’re looking for?” “Her name is Aranxa. She was a medical student at the university.”

alive.”

“Sorry, never heard such a name in my life. This is a first. Hope you find her—

I nodded and drank more beer. My biggest fear, the thought that dogged me

constantly, was finding her dead.

“Young girls go missing mostly in the rich harbour parts.” I heard a female voice behind me. It was the waitress, Maria.

“How come?”

Maria hunched her shoulders. “That’s just how it is. John Haster, Mitch Stochild, Marie Toussant. Those are the big names. They live around there, and they run this city. Thormund, too, I suppose.” She finished and went back to setting another table.

“Maria is no ordinary girl, Luc. She’s got a degree, used to work for a newspaper. Used to work at Paradise Times under Clara Binton. Largest newspaper in the area. Some friends of hers went missing. When the newspaper tried to dig, Clara was threatened, and Maria was fired. Since then, the paper doesn’t dig anymore on those people, but maybe Clara could tell you something in private?”

“Indeed... Hmm.” I was glad I’d made this detour. I took out my notebook and jotted down the names. I’d have to do some research.