Where the Sun Sets (19 page)

Along the inner fold there seemed to be some
writing. He sat himself at the dining room table and stared
intently at the object in his hand. His curiosity was getting the
better of him. He could sense that it would be just a matter of
time before he opened the wad of paper. Unfolding it, though could
have serious side effects. Someone would surely notice it had been
tampered with. What if he could not get it folded back the same way
again. Why did he have to bring this damn thing home with him? He
had gone back to the records room with the intent of picking it,
from the corner it fell, and putting it back where it had come
from. There was a fire drill; the wad went into his pocket. He had
no choice at the time but to exit the building immediately. He
should have returned as soon as the building was cleared, but he
had forgotten all about it. Like so very many things these days.
His memory was going. His age was catching up with him. ‘Harold was
to blame for this.’ Chester thought to himself. If only he had
retrieved the item himself. After all it was Harold who flicked the
wad into the corner in the first place. ‘Harold, the poor guy
looked so worn down.’ Chester glanced at the wad. He stood it up on
its corner and started to flick it himself, when he stopped short.
He picked up the wad and held it, with both hands, up close to his
eyes, trying to peer into the fold.

With the wad in hand, he got up from the
table and walked into his kitchen. The wall phone was just to the
left of the entrance way. He dialed information and requested
Harold’s number. He placed the wad on the top of his phone while he
wrote down the number on the pad, which was hanging on the wall,
next to the phone. He dialed the number and waited as the
connection was made. The phone rang three times before the
answering machine picked up. Chester did not wait for the whole
message before hanging up. He hated answering machines. As he
replaced the receiver he glanced at the wad. “Shit, why me?” He
dialed the number again, this time leaving a brief message on the
machine. Just a simple ‘Chester here, Harold I need to speak with
you. Please return this call the moment you get this message, no
matter how late. My number is...’

He had just started his dinner when the phone
rang. “Harold, thanks for getting back to me. Yea, I hate those
answering machines. Listen, I have something here you might want to
look at. Yeah, remember that finger football? Well, there appears
to be writing on the inside. No, no I can’t make out what it says.
I really don’t want to mess with it, you know. Sure, I can meet you
at the precinct. Ten? No sir, fifteen at the earliest. Yes sir.
Alright sir, see you then. Thanks Harold.”

When Chester arrived at the station, Harold
was already inside waiting. He was talking to his former secretary;
they were both going over the computer printouts Chester had given
him earlier. Harold was sitting on the edge of the desk, looking
down at the papers spread out over the top of Sharon’s desk. Sharon
had a big black marker in her hand. Harold looked up and stood to
greet Chester as he arrived. Sharon never looked up from the
papers. Chester noticed that several names had been blacked out on
all of the papers. He wasn’t really interested though in what they
were doing. “Harold, listen, can we talk?” Harold put his arm
around Chester’s shoulders and walked with him a couple paces from
the desk. “I could lose my job for this. My pension, my whole
future is on the line here.” He handed Harold the wad. Harold
started to unravel the paper before Chester finished speaking.
“Harold, please be careful with that, I have to return it to the
records room in the morning. It really shouldn’t look like anyone
has been messing with it.”

Harold read the paper intently. There seemed
to be a sparkle in his eye that was not there a moment ago. He
looked up at Chester and then glanced back to Sharon. He walked
back over to the desk and handed the paper to Sharon as his eyes
searched the papers on the desk top. “Make a copy of that for me,
will you hon?” He never looked up as he made his request. His eyes
located what he had been searching for. Sharon exited to make the
copy as Harold found a red marker in a cup, on the desk top. He
made two large red circles on two separate pieces of computer
printout. When Sharon returned with the copy, Harold took his copy
and placed it on the desk in-between the two printouts. He ran a
shaky hand through his hair and sat down slowly in Sharon’s chair.
Sharon folded the wad back into its football form, and returned it
to the waiting hand of Chester.

“No one will ever notice hon. If they do, you
have them call me. I’ll make it right, OK?” Chester was not pleased
but understood.

“Harold? Does it...did you...” All Harold
could do was tap at the names with his index finger. He did not
trust himself to speak. Both Sharon and Chester came in for a
closer look. Sharon picked up the copy and started to read.
Uncontrollably her right hand came up to her throat, as she said,
“Oh...my... God. It’s the statement of closure. The contract
between Salvatore and the kid. The form that transferred ownership
of Antonia from one man to the other. Written consent to the
exchange of one seven year old female for the payment of an
outstanding debit of three thousand dollars. “Harry, you don’t
think...it couldn’t be possible...I mean, it’s been better than
thirty years...even if...”

Harold just looked up at her sideways.
Chester stood patiently waiting for someone to fill him in on the
puzzle. Harold stood and started off for the exit; grabbing his
coat and hat as he said his goodbyes and thanked them for all their
help.

“Harold! Harold! Dammit! Harry wait a
minute!” He only paused a moment as he opened the door to leave.
“Sorry hon. Haven’t got a minute. Gotta get up to New Haven,
business to finish.” And with that he was gone. Chester and Sharon
could do nothing else. Sharon set about cleaning off the desk top
and placing all the papers into a new file. Chester put the finger
football into his shirt pocket and headed home once more.

Chapter 20

It was harder to get inside Josephine’s house
than it had been for him to enter the hospital. The local P.D.
focused their efforts on the front of the property since the back
was only accessible through the dwelling or via the water. He was
not a great fan of water. He came in through a neighbor’s yard.
After scanning Josephine’s yard to it was clear he kicked out a
section of cedar fencing large enough to allow him through. He had
to be cautious; there was no way of knowing who was inside the
home. Anyone could be watching from the windows. He followed the
fence up the length to the house. He tried the side door, but it
was locked. He crept along the back of the house until he found a
patio door unlatched. He looked carefully through the doors window,
and then pulled it open.

The door opened into the great room. Two men
were sitting inside. He recognized the bodyguard from past news
articles, the others identity he did not know. Stretching his neck
he tried to see what held their interest. The view from his angle
wasn’t the best, but the arguing from inside filled him in on what
he could not see.

“Damn, did you see the way she tossed
her?”

“There was no tossing, she stuck her leg out
and let her fall.”

“She was off the ground for crying out
loud!”

“She’s alive isn’t she? And not lying in the
damn hospital I might add!”

“So where the hell were you Billy?”

“For Christ’s sake, there was a guy out on
the lake.” Billy stood in disgust and walked to the kitchen. The
lawyer stood to follow but took a moment to stop and eject the
tape. He did not remove it however. He hastened his step to the
kitchen lecturing Billy about his requirements as a bodyguard.

No one saw him enter. No one heard him remove
the video. He exited the great room in the opposite direction from
the previous two occupants, into the hall that led to the
laundry.

Located in the laundry area was one of the
two interior doors of the garage. He needed to think. He really
wasn’t sure what he had planned to do. He knew why he was here but
Josephine’s car was missing and she did not seem to be at home. To
make matters worse there were people here that he had not
anticipated. Killing people took a lot out of him. He wanted to be
mentally aware when Josephine arrived. He hated her with such
venom. He never understood why she thought she was so much better
than the rest of the world. Why she thought she couldn’t be
touched.

Years ago, when he had thought he had lost
Antonia forever, he felt as if he had no reason to live. But then,
Josephine’s stalker had given him a transfusion. Josephine’s
academic choice was front page news for months. He hated to see her
face on the front of the daily news paper. Just the sight of her
made him lose his appetite. Antonia’s best friend. The one person
who knew her better than anyone. The one person she would give up
the world for. All Josephine Ferrero cared about was herself and
getting publicity. And then she acted like she was a victim. She
had invited the stalker didn’t she? Better than everyone else,
that’s what she thought of herself and it had made him sick to his
stomach. He should have thanked her though. If not for the stalker,
she never would have begged Antonia to come home. How different his
world would be. But she had called her. According to the tabloids
she had called and begged her to come home.

He could still picture her floating off the
plane. She was much darker than he preferred but her body made it
difficult for him to breathe. So in awe was he, that she had left
the airport before he ever took a step toward her. Every minute
since then was devoted to her return to him. He had laid out his
plan perfectly. Then somehow things went wrong. He wasn’t about to
let that happen again.

He did not want to have to kill anyone else
today. There was a lot of yelling coming from inside the house. The
lawyer had gone back for the tape and found it missing. Billy was
screaming that the lawyer was the last one watching it. They were
both screaming for the maid.

This seemed like the perfect time to escape
but instead he went back into the house, through the second door
which opened into the foyer just beyond the kitchen. Up the stairs
totally unnoticed by the bickering two. Everything was going well
until he turned, just past the landing. He ducked into a door on
the right. Chest to chest he collided with Chloe. His hand was on
her mouth before she had inhaled enough to scream. “You’re not
going to make a sound. You can either live or die. It’s up to you.
But you are going to have to make that choice right now. Do you
understand me?”

Chloe nodded her head yes. Satisfied he
turned her around, keeping his hand on her mouth. He closed the
door to the room behind them and locked it. It was dark in the room
and his eyes needed to adjust. Her mouth was warm and moist under
his hand. Urges began to surface uncontrollably. He rocked his head
back and forth, side to side, trying to change his thought pattern.
The house had quieted, but he did not feel totally safe.

There was a closet in the far corner of the
room. He walked Chloe back to it and together they entered. Once
again he closed the door behind them. His pants tightened around
him. “Damn!” He muttered to himself in disgust. Placing the video
on a shelf above his head he buried his nose into Chloe’s hair.
Inhaling deeply, aerosol hair spray clogged his nose. In a matter
of seconds he had his pants undone and had ripped Chloe’s skirt
from her body. He felt her tighten with anticipation and her heart
began to race. He was certain her heart would explode any minute.
He jammed himself inside her and erupted in perfect time with her
heart. Her lifeless body collapsed in his grasp. Cautiously he
dragged her to the back of the closet and placed her, sitting
upright against the wall. Looking at her, he felt disgusted with
himself. He should have been able to wait. He wanted a clean palate
for the feast he had planned for this evening.

He shut his eyes tightly as he fixed his
pants and straightened his shirt. Behind him he reached for the
skirt he had tossed. He shook it out in front of himself to
straighten it, as he let it fall onto the body of Chloe. Retrieving
the video, he stuffed it into the rear of his pants. Carefully he
emerged from the closet. He was in a bedroom. Assuming it is a
guest room, from the lack of items, he feels safe. Two windows on
either side of the bed. Three doors, one for the closet and one for
the entrance. The third door he soon found out lead to a private
bath. No window in there. Very carefully he walked back towards a
bedroom window.

With the darkness in the room, he doubted
anyone outside could see him but why take the chance. With one
finger, he pulled the curtain inward. Outside the window was the
side yard, on the outer side of the cedar fencing, facing the
neighbors, without any cover. This room would not work for
re-entering the home. He exited the room as quietly as he had
entered it. Not a soul around. He brazenly glanced over the
railing, down to the center of the foyer. Tilting his head to the
right, he heard nothing. He took an uninterrupted tour of the
estate. Through a front window he spied the bodyguard and lawyer on
the front lawn. The two seemed to be having a heated discussion,
about the tape no doubt. He had over stayed his visit and felt the
need to escape.

The episode in the closet messed up his whole
game plan. He could not think straight and this fact alone could
ruin everything. All his hard work and patience could lie to waste.
He had to get outside and breathe the fresh air again. So as
quietly as he entered, he exited, with the video stashed neatly in
his pants. He walked back along the fence toward the water and back
into the neighbor’s yard. Three blocks later, the video casing met
his knee and smashed into three pieces. Removing the actual tape,
he dropped the casing where it fell. A neighborhood drugstore
supplied the small bottle of bleach needed to dispose of the tape
itself.