Chapter Six
Feeling just a little buzzed from the beer, I thanked John and Maria and went out. I was surprised at how fast the time had passed. It was still bright out, but it would not be for long. The sun was starting to set, and I hurried to a trolley stop, which John had kindly indicated for me.
On the way back, I passed Golden Books again. I had so much on my mind. Kasp Nudd was an interesting character, and something told me that he was indeed correct about me coming back. I got out of the neighborhood and onto the trolley just in time for nightfall. Luckily there was a stop just a block away from my apartment. I relaxed into the seat and decided not to observe the passengers this time; I’d just stare out of the window.
As the streets went by one by one, suddenly I saw something that made my heart lurch in terror. I saw a man in an alley wearing a hood, with what looked like tentacles trailing behind him in the shadows. I blinked hard and found myself saying a silent prayer. Oh God, was it just my fatigued mind and the alcohol?
I took a deep breath. The train, then that place the doctor sent me to, and the nighttime walk. I had been seeing too many “visions.” Perhaps it was reality, or maybe I was just a madman who was able to simply put on an act around others of being normal without even knowing it. Oh, I was getting myself tangled. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. I continued until my stop, and when I got off, I was feeling calm and more like myself, but also aware that the night was not yet over as I began my walk towards Bill’s diner.
I kept looking over my shoulder and from side to side. I was startled by a man who came out of a side street, and I almost bumped into him. He looked at me as though I were crazy and shook his head as he strode away. I entered the diner and sat down, still trying to conquer the fear.
Bill came up to me, after serving a couple in the corner of the diner, and took my order. He looked more tired than he had on previous days. I ate my meal and was honestly out of there pretty quickly, as I had to do my best to get a good rest and begin to gather information on all the names I’d gotten that day.
That night I slept well, and in the morning, I felt refreshed. I dedicated the day to boring research, gathering documents in the town hall archives, the university library, and some files that Allard had sent in one of the suitcases. Later in the day, I went over to the Paradise Times newspaper to check their archives as well.
In reception, I was met by a pretty dark-skinned lady with a beautiful smile— Clara Binton. She was excited to know I was a private investigator and agreed to let me check the archives on the condition that I’d help her with some field research for future publication. I agreed but made no mention of the subjects I’d heard of in the Dark Turtle. I wanted to wait until after I looked into the archives; otherwise, if the subject was something she wanted to hide, she could deny my access to them, and I’d get nowhere.
When alone in the archives room, I opened the “unpublished” section and began quickly looking over the titles. I found two papers containing the names of Mitch Stochild, Marie Toussant, and John Hastor, together with missing young women. However, there weren’t many specifics, and the articles were unfinished. I had to speak to Clara.
“Say, Clara, do you have some time for a coffee and conversation?” I asked when I entered her office.
Clara smiled happily and motioned for me to sit down. Her office was cozy, with a beautiful desk and nice chairs. She left and returned with a pot of warmed-up coffee she’d made earlier, but she had no milk for me, so I had to drink it black.
We sipped in silence for a few minutes, then I began. “Clara, I spoke to a friend of yours, or perhaps a past colleague. Maria.” I stopped to see her reaction. Clara looked down into her cup for a moment. She seemed sad.
“And?” she said finally.
“Maria said that you could possibly help me regarding some young women’s disappearances. No one will know you gave me the information, I promise.”
Clara sipped her coffee and waited a minute, thinking. Then she got up and closed the office door. “I do want to see justice...,” she finally spoke. “But I doubt in this town that’ll ever be possible.”
I asked her about the strange things I’d seen.
Clara shook her head. A puzzled frown creased her pretty features. “I have heard many rumors and stories about strange things here, but no one ever seems to have any facts or evidence. There are certain things that even my reporters steer clear of.”
Remembering Aranxa’s notes, I asked if there were an island off the coast.
“Yes, there is,” Clara confirmed, “but there is nothing there and no commercial travel to it.” She continued by telling me details about several individuals and their dealings. I took notes.
Once I was back in my apartment, it was time to put it all together. Mitch Stochild was an incredibly wealthy businessman. He was also involved in the illegal sales of alcohol. He had a strong connection to the missing girls and to the Sut Ni Tul clan, leading me to speculate that the two were linked somehow. He was also a sponsor of the Manland gang, run by Ante Manland.
John Haster was the owner of the biggest bank in the region. He had a strong connection to prostitution. He was the sponsor of the Fullstrom gang, run by Tom Fullstrom.
Marie Toussant, an opium magnate, was also known as “Lady Death.” It looked as though she ran a house of prostitution.
Apparently, the shady professor and Doctor Kramik, whom I had met, were working for Mitch Stochild.
Clara had told me that the detective Robert Willems was honest but struggling and that the Chief of Police, Sam Stolz, was controlled by John Haster. “Also,” Clara
had said to me, her eyes enormous, “Willems revealed to me that the Night Hawk carves letters into his victims. We have not put this information out to the public.” So that was one thing Willems kept back to discourage and reveal, copycat killers.
She also mentioned an old professor, Gideon Slid, who spent his life studying various clans and worshippers. Clara advised me to seek him out as well.
Clara did not know much about Kasp Nudd, except that he was a war hero. And she said Thormund was too preoccupied with KKK business and his own ego to be worried about taking more control from the other three.
My head was spinning as I sat at my table, analyzing all of the notes and trying to remember all of the names. Tomorrow I was going to go out with my beautiful and enchanting neighbor, Cecilia, and that was something to think about. I also had to check in with Mercedes. I decided that would be all for today, to give my mind a break and continue with a more full day of investigation in the morning.
I put everything away and sat by the window with tea and whiskey. I watched the dimly illuminated street, expecting to see something horrible, but nothing of that sort happened this time.
Once again, I dreamed of people’s faces peeling, of strange creatures coming from the waters, and woke up with a sense of horror—and much too early.
I cooked some eggs, which I had finally picked up at the market the day before, and coffee. I sat by the window and watched the street slowly come more and more alive. Then at about nine, I heard a knock on my door. When I opened it, it was a surprise to see Cecilia standing there wearing a pretty light pink dress.
“I thought you might like to go out early,” she said, tilting her head in its pink straw cloche. I was embarrassed since I had yet to bathe and shave and asked her to wait on the couch while I got ready. She laughed and gracefully sat on the sofa. I hurried and got myself in order, putting on the best suit Dausen had sent me.
She gave me her hand, and once on the street, we got a cab to ride to the harbour.
I felt lucky, as cabs were a rarity in this town. I had hardly seen any since I’d arrived.
The drive was slow, as many people were out on this beautiful Saturday and kept crossing the street anywhere and everywhere. Some even walked on the road, testing our driver’s patience—and he did not seem the patient type, to begin with. He pounded the steering wheel and swore every time he had to stop for someone.
Eventually, we did arrive at the harbour. I was surprised to see the many docks. I knew the harbour area was the wealthiest neighborhood, but there were also several poorer areas near the docks and warehouses. On a point at the right, there was a tall, massive lighthouse, and to the left, there was a huge mansion on the cliffs just beyond the first long stretch of shops, cafes, and row houses.
There were many small, privately owned boats and yachts in the marina that bordered the main commercial street. The water was moving calmly, and the sound of it was soothing. The air was incredibly fresh, and the ocean was beautiful and enchanting. We walked out onto the pier, enjoying the view.
I heard some children’s voices and turned. It was a family of five taking a stroll by the ocean. The sight of them brought more joy to my heart.
“It’s so sweet,” commented Cecilia, also looking at the family.
My eyes wandered beyond them as I noticed a large sign, which stated Ferry Café. So that’s where it was. I would have to visit sometime.
“It’s a wonderful place. We should go together soon,” said Cecilia, who had followed my gaze.
I agreed, and we moved along, walking and observing. Just around the bend, the sound of a violin could suddenly be heard, but it wasn’t music, just the screeching of a bow on strings. In fact, the sound was almost painful. We came upon the man scratching away at the out-of-tune old fiddle right around the bend of the boardwalk. He had long hair, a hat for money in front of him, and seemed to be enjoying the awful sound he was producing. We both laughed at the fun of it.
Cecilia suggested we stop at a place called The Palm Cafe, which was situated on the long pier. It was a neat little yellow clapboard building. We chose outdoor seating and ordered fresh juice and boiled lobster with bread.
“The ocean is so calm today! It’s soothing, don’t you think?” asked Cecilia, smiling. She took off the pink cloche and shook her hair.
“Ah yes, I’m so glad to give my mind a break today. This is perfect.” “You’ve been working too hard?”
“I have to.”
“Can you tell me more?”
“Well, I’m looking for a missing young woman. Her name is Aranxa.” “Oh, never heard such a name. I’m sorry.”
“Well, her father paid me a very large sum of money. I’m trying my best.” “Well, that’s the most important thing, to do your best.”
In most cases, she would have been right—one’s best would be good enough. But in my case, failure to complete the task could mean something very dreadful for both me and Aranxa.
Once we’d finished the delicious meal, Cecilia said she had to go to an appointment shortly, and we headed to the main street to find another cab. Once I escorted Cecelia home, I decided to visit Mercedes and give her my updates.
The Hook Hotel couldn’t be too far from the area of the harbour I had been in earlier. I asked around, and an old fisherman pointed me in the right direction. I happily walked along the water again, watching boatmen and fishermen go out into the waters or people going on with their business. Life was hard but also magnificent. Beautiful and horrible all at once. This thought brought a smile to my face as I soon reached The Hook.
As I entered this establishment, I was instantly met by a tall, weird-looking man with large eyes and giant hands. He pointed to the desk, saying nothing. I guessed he was mute. I told him I was there to meet a friend, giving him Mercedes’ name, but this imbecile stood there for a good several minutes before pointing at one of the numbers on the wall behind him. Seventeen. That was the room number, I guessed. I thanked him through clenched teeth and went up the stairs to find the room.
The hotel itself was well-appointed and beautifully maintained, so I wondered why the owners would put someone like that at the front desk, even for short shifts. Perhaps he was a crazy son or something. I made a mental note to ask Mercedes about him.
I found the room and knocked while announcing myself. Shortly the door opened. There stood beautiful Mercedes wearing a short black dress. She smiled her impish smile.
“Very pleased to see you again, Mr. Nistage.” “And I to see you. By the way, it’s just Luc, please.”
“Sure. Come in, Luc, have a seat, and I’ll get us a drink.”
I sat down and noticed a phonograph standing on a corner table. Mercedes caught my look and went over to it, putting the needle to a jazz recording. I couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. I had always wanted one of those. Perhaps now that I had the money, I’d go out and buy one for my apartment here.
“So, Luc.” She sat down and crossed her legs. I couldn’t help but look for a moment but kept my focus on her pretty eyes right after. She placed our coffees on a small glass table between us. She was more beautiful than I remembered, and it took me aback. I had to make sure that in my mind, I always treated this as a business situation and nothing more. “What have you learned so far?” she asked, looking intently into my eyes.
I dived right into it, sparing no detail. It took a long time as she listened carefully, nodding and making notes. We had two refills of our coffee while I told her the story, and I felt completely alert, with my heart beating more intensely than usual.
“So, whom do you suspect the most as of right now? What do you think happened?” She asked the most difficult question once I finished my story.
I thought for a moment. “Well, I don’t think this is a case of forced prostitution. I do have to investigate that possibility since I can’t disregard anything yet. My gut feeling tells me it has something to do with the Sut Ni Tul clan.”
“Well, that would mean this Mitch Stochild would be the main suspect if your information is correct.”
“Perhaps. Maybe the scientist who’s involved with him, Kramik—he’s a smaller fish—could be a better one to follow first.”
“Better, or easier? Will you check the other leads first?”
“Not sure if easier. Yes, I will try to speak to John Haster and Marie Toussant first and see what their reactions are.”
A shadow crossed Mercedes’ lovely face. “You must be very careful. These are powerful people.”
“Oh yes, yes, of course. I’ll make sure not to step over the limit with them, you know what I mean?”
Mercedes asked, “And what do you think about this Night Hawk? You really think he’s only after members of the cult?”
“Eh...the murders have been brutal, but he’s killed both men and women of all ages.” I shook my head, puzzled. “It’s hard to believe that all those people were cultists, but it could be true, too. In this town, nothing can be considered strange at this point.”
“Okay, Luc, how about we meet again a week from today?” “That’s perfect.”
I thanked Mercedes for her hospitality, and we shook hands. I left, planning to take the rest of the day off. I spent a lot of time relaxing on a bench on the pier, and when the sun began to set, I decided to enjoy a warm dinner at Heavenly Diner.
I elected to walk all the way back, and it got dark sooner than I expected. There were still plenty of people moving around, and I felt safe, but alas, not one day could go by for me without keeping away from hidden horrors. As I walked by one of the dark alleys, I saw what appeared to be a man quickly being pulled just around the corner of a building. He let out a short shout, but that was it. I stopped as if frozen. I had to make a decision.
I firmly gripped my revolver and took it out, looking around. There was no one who could have noticed either me or the other man, so I stepped into the dark alleyway. I moved as quickly as I could without making a sound, and as I got closer to the corner of a building, I heard something that sounded like an animal eating—beastly, slobbering sounds. I carefully looked around the corner.
What I saw next, no human can truly comprehend, or at least that’s how I felt about it. There was a creature on the ground devouring the man it had grabbed. I had never seen anything like it. It had a dark red body, which was a disturbing mix of humanoid and octopus features. Long tentacles came from its back, and its prey was completely encircled by them.
It was horrifying. My throat closed, and my hand holding the pistol shook. The horror was beyond anything my mind could grasp.
I must have made a sound as the creature turned its head to face me. I shoved my fist into my mouth to keep from screaming. It had a large mouth with dozens of sharp, bloody teeth and huge, dead yellow eyes. It stared at me in silence.
I fired the pistol right at the beast’s face.
The bullet hit the creature in the eye, and blood sprayed everywhere. The monster let out an insane ghastly howl and kept screaming and throwing itself against the wall. I turned and ran faster than ever before in my life to get out of there. Even blocks away, I could still hear it screaming. Windows and doors were opening, and people were looking in the direction of the unearthly sounds. I just kept running until I could no longer hear the screams. I figured the monster had either died or had survived and slunk away to hide in whatever hellish place it lived.
Finally, panting and exhausted, I stopped. Had that been the so-called Night Hawk?
I stayed the original course and finally got inside the Heavenly Diner. Sweating and with the terrifying sight still fresh in my mind, I sat down and stared at the white tabletop.
Bill hurried over to me. “You okay, Luc? You look like you’ve seen a ghost and been chased by the hounds of hell!”
All I could do was shake my head, my breathing still ragged and uneven.
Bill patted me on the back and said he would bring me some waffles and tea. I just nodded in agreement and closed my eyes.
I was still sitting like that when Bill set a cup of tea before me. I heard a phonograph begin to play a jazz record. Huh, Bill had gotten a phonograph too. Bill got himself a cup of tea and sat in the booth facing me. I sat back a little bit, keeping my hands on the table and focusing on calm breathing. As I raised the cup to sip, my hand was shaking like a leaf. I put the cup down and looked over at Bill, who was watching me with worried eyes.
The door of the diner opened. Jackson Thormund walked in, followed by four young men. That was the power of the Klan. The young were the easiest to brainwash with hatred and fear.
I hunched over the teacup and tried to be as quiet as possible, but of course, he noticed me. Thormund’s eyes were narrow, and his gaze seemed angry, but he waved at me and then thankfully turned away and sat at a larger table with his group of young men. Bill got up to wait on them.
I went from seeing a beast monster to a human monster. But the human one didn’t scare me all that much. Maybe he should have, for I had no idea how aggressive this man could get with his demands. I breathed deeply and raised my cup again. Now my hand was barely shaking. My mind was starting to clear the fog placed there by fear and sheer terror. Reason began to take over. I realized that there was no way the beast was the Night Hawk because Clara had told me that the Night Hawk left letters carved into his victims, and she’d said nothing about mutilated bodies.
Bill came up to me again.
“They are coming in late. Means they are up to something tonight, maybe something very, very bad,” he said quietly and grimly.
“Hmm. Well, be careful, Bill.”
“Yes, better play friendly with these wolves, or they’ll think you’re their enemy too. It’s sad.”
“Bill, what do you think of Night Hawk?”
“What’s there to think about him? It’s a demented, conniving man. The motivation of someone like that doesn’t matter; he murders anyone and makes them suffer. I hope he is stopped soon.”
“Ah, I suppose you’re right. Do you think he’s evil? Or insane?”
“Even the mad know when they go against God and continue committing evil deeds. It is someone bent on evil and refusing to ever change. The worst kind of person.”
“Good point, Bill. What do you know of the Sut Ni Tul clan?”
“The cult of Sut Ni Tul. It’s been around these parts since even when I was a little boy. You can find some books written about the cults around here in the library
archives. Back then, they lived in the woods, but now, I think there are many members here in town. It’s impossible to tell how many.”
“What is Sut Ni Tul?”
“I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure it’s a demonic creature from the depth of the ocean.”
My blood chilled as I was overwhelmed by the mental image of the creature I had seen with my own two eyes. At this point, I was willing to consider anything.
“Is there a good Christian church around here?”
“Yes, Luc. I visit it. The best one is by the lighthouse. Father Brannahan tends to the lighthouse, but he is also the priest, takes care of the church. Very dedicated man. Loves Christ.”
“Thank you, I will check it out. And can I have a refill?” I pointed at my teacup.
“Of course. And...prayer is powerful.”
Bill went to get my tea, and I felt better after talking to him.
I pondered what it meant to be evil. Perhaps evil was, like Bill said, not an act at all, but choosing to persist in wrongdoing, making no effort to become better or to seek goodness.
I finished my second cup of tea and my meal, thanked Bill, left him a big tip, and sneaked out before Jackson could speak to me. I went quickly to my apartment, hastily locking the door behind me.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I placed the good bottle of whiskey on the table next to me and quickly downed a glass, pouring a second one instantly. I knew this was the only way to get the horror out of my head and perhaps sleep, but of course there were no guarantees that terror wouldn’t enter and torment my rest.
Suddenly a name came to my head, Gideon Slid. I took out my notebook and wrote it down, and placed it next to the bed. I was going to see the old professor tomorrow and see what he had to say about the Sut Ni Tul cult.
I drank more and more, making my head spin, but still, the terrible thing hovered at the edges of my mind. Finally, I must have passed out, for the next thing I knew, I was underwater, swimming among old black columns and buildings. They all had writing on them in a foreign language. In the distance, I heard a voice. It wasn’t human, but I understood the meaning of the words.
“All of their memories...all of their memories...then make new...new memories.” I saw a forest of tentacles appear out of the water, then everything went dark.