I made my way to the
mouth of the alley, Carter returned shortly after I took up a slouched position
against the wall. It was only when Carter returned that I noticed he
looked as bad as I felt, his face also badly damaged by something.
He only held my gaze
for a moment, as I noticed out of my partially closed eye, a car up the street,
a man sitting in it, the engine running. I thumbed the hammer back on my
Webley as I made Carter aware of it too.
The next few minutes
seemed like an eternity, Frank finally arrived and hustled me into the back
seat, I also heard him and Carter moving our possessions from our car to his
own, knowing that there was no way either of us were in any position to drive.
We spoke briefly in
the car, it was all such a blur, I was to be dropped at the closest hospital
for care while Frank and Carter made their way back to our hotel. The
next thing I remember, I was being injected by nurses and doctors before
passing out entirely.
 |
| The exterior of the Hospital |
I woke to find myself
in a dimly lit hospital room, alone in bed, a hospital gown clothed me, my own
not in sight. I panicked and unsteadily rose from my back, my body ached,
I searched the room to find my clothes and belongings located in a small
wardrobe. I grabbed my pistol before returning to my bed, hiding it under
the covers, paranoid that another assault may be just outside the door.
On my bedside table was a large bowl of grapes and a small card, “Get well
soon, Jack”.
Clearly the man who
had doled out one of the most brutal beatings of my life was aware of where I
was. The doctor came in to find me awake, yet still dazed from the
sedatives and the beating. I asked him if I could use a phone, I needed
to call Carter and explain the haste in which I wanted to leave the hospital.
I had to wait until
morning, it was too late now for Frank to come to retrieve me, semi comfortable
with my surroundings I did my best to get some sleep.
I rose sharply in the
morning, my head pounding. Carter soon entered my room, he was also clad
in a hospital gown, his body somewhat broken based on the way he walked.
He told me of what had happened to him last night, I returned the gesture and
told him of my beating in the alley. We both agreed that we needed to lay
low for a while as this had taken a sharp turn for the negative within the last
24 hours.
Getting dressed, we
met Frank at the car and relocated to a smaller, quieter hotel, we wanted to
look like we had left LA for now. Carter had sent Frank to follow the man
who silently observed us from his car, he had followed us to where I was dropped
at the hospital. Once we had gotten ourselves settled, Frank informed us
that the man who had been following us was a Private Investigator named
Jack. He continued to tell us of the small office he worked out of, I
couldn’t help but draw similarities to Carter from Frank’s observations.
He continued to tell us about his confrontation with Jack, he had been paid to
watch us, given our descriptions and what to look out for. Frank had also
retrieved the money Jack was paid, along with the details of the beating he had
given Jack in the process, close to $1000 had been given to Jack just to hinder
us. Clearly those behind it had no limit to their financials, much like
Ms Winston-Rodgers.
We also learned that
Jack had been hired by a man named Samson Trammell and someone in his employ
only known as Captain Walker, the same men who had purchased the books from
Echiavarria’s library. Clearly he was a key figure in the continuing work
of the cult. Frank also gave us all the information regarding Jack, where
he worked, where he lived, and the fact that he may not be walking any time
soon, a fact that although shameful, I did take pleasure in knowing.
We spent the next few
days resting in our new hotel, unable to move freely, it seemed like the best
option until our wounds healed, if not completely, for the most part.
I spent my time
re-reading the books that we had come into possession of, as well as doing what
I could to start sorting and organising the notes and journals of Professor
Ayers. It was a gruelling process but one that required my attention as
Carted seemed allergic to the written word.
After our bodies had
regained their strength we decided that it was time to begin our investigation
of this Trammell man, clearly a player in the big scheme of things. He
was not hard to track down for Carter, he was a high society man based in
Pasadena California, his address was an item of public record, so we decided
that a visit was in order, after we had made a quick visit to Jack, both Carter
and I had an unrelenting grievance with that man.
The journey to
Pasadena was long, I felt every bump of the road as my body began once more to
show signs of its previous beating.
We landed calmly,
Carter had decided that more suitable protection was required and we decided to
purchase some additional firepower as a deterrent for any further would be
assaulters. We purchased a pair of
shotguns, lever action, I had seen in my travels a hunter use one cut down and
hidden beneath is cloak while in Africa years ago, it seemed like a good idea
to follow his example.
Based Carter’s aptitude for
detective work, it was not hard to find the location of Trammell’s estate. It was a massive estate, clearly from the
surroundings, it was a high society area.
We hired a car and made good time to the neighborhood.
We drove past the estate slowly,
even though both of us were paranoid as to the beating we had taken, and were certainly
not keen for more, we drove at a pace as if someone had taken a wrong turn and
was returning to the main road.
After a lengthy discussion,
Carter and I decided that our best way past the army of Hispanic garden staff
on the other side of the iron gate and long driveway was to pose as book
collectors searching for books Trammell had recently purchased. As uncouth as Carter was, I was going to do the
talking, regardless of how many teeth I had missing.
We approached the gate, a large bell
hung silently, Carter remained in the car as I wrung the bell. A Hispanic man approached me flanked by two
large dogs, I discussed our business with him before he withdrew to find
someone more fluent in English.
A large bushy moustached man
emerged a few minutes later, Carter was now out of the car and leaning on its
tyres.
I began my sale of our identities
to this man, who from the outset, seemed shocked and aggressive. After being refused several times to enter, I
asked his name, “Walker, Captain Walker” he replied. My heart sunk as our identities were shed, he
called us both by name as told us to go home, clearly meaning that we would be
removed any way possible.
I exchanged fierce looks with the
man before Carter hurried me back into the car.
Clearly the time for sneaking around and deception was over.
We decided to return to New York,
having quickly made the conclusion that whatever was happening in California
was somehow centred at this residence.
It was time to inform Janet of our findings, as well as taking some time
to return home for rest, with one quick stop along the way.
We set out at once
for Jack’s office only to find it closed, Carter fiddled with the lock and upon
entry, Jack had clearly left in a hurry, his office was a shambles, the smell
of damp dust lingering. His home was our next port of call, again, empty,
a small flat that seemed barely lived in, stale food and mouldy produce
littered the small kitchen, again, clothes and belongings strewn across every
room. He had clearly left town, not wanting to be found.
Before we left the
premises, I had a strange feeling come over me, I had to leave a note. On
his desk I cleared a space and placed there a single piece of paper, “Get well
soon, M.” I used one of my shotgun shells as a paper weight to make my point.
We returned to the
plane for our return to New York, the trip somehow seemed empty, most likely
due to the fact that Jack had eluded me, I’m sure the feeling will pass.
No comments:
Post a Comment