Blood Fugue (22 page)

Randall pointed the revolver at a can of beans and imagined it was Jimmy Kerrigan’s head. He knew he’d have no problem pulling the trigger.

The ringing made Kath jump as usual. While her heart settled down she promised herself she’d get a new phone, with a choice of soothing tones instead of the shrill alarm clock ring of the ancient machine in the hallway. She put down her crossword and pushed up from the chair. Dingbat’s ears twitched a little with each ring and he opened one eye as Kath left the kitchen.

She walked as if she needed oiling, her ankle joints popping and her knees clicking and grinding until she’d taken a few steps.

‘Kerrigan’s,’ she said as she placed the receiver to her ear.

‘Hi there, Kath. How’re you doing?’

‘Hey, Maggie. I’m okay, I guess. I’ve been passing some time thinking and being good to myself.’

‘I am glad to hear that,’ said Maggie and Kath could hear the sincerity. She was glad someone else was thinking about her. There was excitement in Maggie’s voice too. ‘Did you hear about the posse?’

‘What posse?’

‘Remember those two boys that went missing a few days ago? Well, Sheriff Powell had a tip-off about where they might be and he’s organised a search party. A girl has disappeared too, I heard.’

‘You said it was a posse. Are they armed?’

‘Some of them will be, I guess.’

‘My God.’ Kath sat down on the stool beside the phone. ‘James is out there in the woods.’

‘I know. That’s the other thing I thought you ought to know. There’s a rumour that Jimmy had something to do with the disappearance of those boys. It looked kind of weird that he wasn’t at home when Sheriff Powell wanted to talk to him.

‘God, I pray he stays out of harm’s way. James is a good man, Maggie.’

Kath twisted the phone cord in her fingers as she thought about her boy on his own in the woods with a group of trigger-happy vigilantes. It was rough justice in a place like Hobson’s Valley. People would shoot instead of thinking if they believed they were righting a wrong. Not only that, they’d make the most of the excitement this kind of search created. It was probably the most diverting thing they’d ever do; had to be twenty years since anything similar had happened; a time when some hikers had gotten lost in the woods.

Maggie’s voice interrupted the memory.

‘Kath, I was wondering if you’d like a change of scene for a few hours. I’ve just made a batch of oatmeal cookies and they’ve turned out real fine. I thought you might enjoy walking up to my place. Otherwise, I could come and pick you up.’

‘Maggie, I’m going to take you up on that. If I stay here on my own I’ll go crazy worrying about James.’

‘That’s great. Want me to come and get you?’

‘No, I’m going to walk. I need the exercise. Is it okay if I bring a friend?’

‘Does Dingbat like cookies?’

‘I’m sure he’ll develop a taste for them.’

Chapter 24

About fifteen cars drove past Jimmy Kerrigan’s place on the way to the Clearing that morning. Isobel Priestly and the mothers of Daniel Stringer and Alfred Lindh were the only women in attendance. When the cars came to a halt in the Clearing, everyone stepped out into the pre-dawntwilight to find Sheriff Powell already there. He’d parked next to the Jimenez’s white Toyota. He wore his hat tilted downward and his thumbs were hooked into his belt. The fingers of his right hand tapped on the leather holster of his pistol.

One by one the members of the search party stepped towards Powell and bid him their good mornings. The mood was tense but anticipatory. The air was fresh; the first really cold morning of the year and many in the group wore thick jackets against the chill. For a while the sounds of birds calling to each other were interrupted by the slamming of doors and trunks. The noise level in the Clearing rose. Laughter echoed as the men swapped jokes and yarns. Soon, their adrenaline pumping, they made more aggressive comments about what they’d do if they found ‘some fucking psycho’ roaming their beautiful woods and trails.

Sheriff Powell stepped onto one of the short wooden posts forming the boundary of the picnic area. He didn’t wait for anyone to notice and he didn’t shout or clap his hands to attract their attention. Instead he took a deep lungful of chilly morning air and began to shush very softly.

The people nearest to him heard it and shut up. The noise level dropped. The people they’d been talking to also stopped talking. The quiet spread like a soft breeze and before Powell had expended his air, the clearing was once more silent but for the dawn chorus.

He spoke quietly but everyone heard him.

‘People, there are very few facts to guide us, but we must use them as the basis for our work here today. First, we know that Alfred Lindh and Daniel Stringer are missing. A suggestion has been made that they are somewhere in these woods, possibly on the Western Way. My information leads me to believe this and that’s why we’re here. Our priority is to find them as soon as possible.

‘Second, Gina Priestly is also missing. There‘s nothing to suggest she left town so there’s a strong possibility she’s out here too. We don’t know how prepared these kids are for spending nights in the woods. They could be holed up somewhere trying to stay warm. They may be injured or sick and that means they won’t be moving around. Keep your eyes open for makeshift shelters or anything that looks like it might serve as a hiding place.

‘We do not know why these kids came up here. We do not know their condition. We do not know how far they may have travelled. Keep these things in mind as you look for them. There is no proof to suggest that Mr. James Kerrigan is involved with these kids. In my opinion therefore, his unavailability is still a coincidence and he is not under any suspicion. If you see him out here, you can tell him I’d like to speak to him. You have no other power or authorisation to act further than that. If he comes willingly to me, then fine. If he doesn’t, I’ll consider him a suspect. Either way, you are not to interfere with the man.

‘Over the years there have been alleged sightings and rumours of sightings of an old man said to live rough in these woods. As far as I’m concerned this is not a fact. If you see such a person, you are to treat them in exactly the manner that you will treat Mr. Kerrigan and you will pass him the same message.

‘Spread out and search in pairs or threes. If you find the missing kids, stay with them and radio back to me with your position. No matter what their condition is, you will follow that instruction. Whatever happens, I want to be first to know and first on the scene.

‘Now, I know some of you here are armed and that is your right. But if I get wind of any vigilantism, I will personally see to it that the culprit regrets it for the rest of their lives. If you think you’re here for some kind of turkey shoot you can turn around right now and go home. You need to remember that there are likely to be visitors to our community hiking in the woods. I don’t want you giving them any reason to be frightened. You can tell them what’s going on and that my advice is to head out of the area unless they have information I might need. Otherwise you’re to leave them be. Anyone have any questions?’

Randall Moore spoke up immediately.

‘There could be a murderer loose in this forest, Sheriff. Are you saying we can’t defend ourselves?’

There were a few nods and grunts of agreement.

‘As I’ve stated, and I’ll state it again for the hard of hearing, there are no facts to suggest that there is anyone dangerous in these woods. I don’t want to hear you stirring people up like this Mr . . .’

He waited for several moments. As a new sheriff he wasn’t familiar every face.

‘Moore. Randall Moore.’

‘Mr. Moore, I am noting that it was you who asked the question and if anything stupid happens out here today, I’ll be wanting to talk to you. In answer to your question, if you are attacked, you have the right to defend yourself. Just don’t go looking for trouble where there isn’t any. Got it?’

Randall nodded, bitter and sullen.

‘Anything else?’ Sheriff Powell looked around at every face. He tried to gauge the personalities and thought he was close to the mark with most of them. But search parties always attracted the aggressive cases and there was nothing he could do about that. Right now, he needed all the help he could get. ‘Okay. I’m going to hand out hunting vests so that we can identify other members of the search team in the woods and be safely visible. I’m also going to provide photos of the missing youths, so you all know who you’re looking for. After that I’m going to give each pair or trio an area to investigate and we can get started.’

He was about to step down from his post when he saw Mrs. Stringer’s hand up.

‘Go ahead, ma’am.’

‘Sheriff Powell, why aren’t there medical units here? What if the boys are hurt?’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs. Stringer, this community can’t afford to have paramedics on standby when there’s no perceived emergency. Some of us are trained in first aid and CPR and we’ll be able to provide care should the need arise. I hope it does not. If we do have a medical emergency, that will be when we call for outside help. I’m sorry, but it’s the best we can do.’

Powell checked his watch and stepped down to his car. From the trunk, he handed out orange vests and Xeroxed snapshots of the kids. He saw the defiant look in Randall Moore’s eyes and chuckled to himself.

Spreading a map over the hood of his cruiser, Powell showed everyone where he wanted them to go. He kept the areas small and tight so people would be thorough. As the last pair of figures disappeared onto one of the trails, he unscrewed the lid off his thermos and poured himself a half-cup of coffee.

He thought about James Kerrigan and the missing youngsters. He thought about the Priestlys and their story. He thought about Gina and why she ran away. He thought about the guns. He went over the organisation of the whole search in his mind several times but there was something important missing in it all. He couldn’t help feeling he’d forgotten one vitally important detail.

PART III: WAR

‘Adapt or perish, now as ever, is nature’s inexorable imperative.’

H
.
G
.
WELLS

Chapter 25

Kerrigan stepped into the mouth of the trail sore and tired from running and wanting nothing more than to lie down on the earth and sleep. Much of the daylight was shut out by the denseness of the foliage above him, turning the trail into a half-lit cave. Beneath his feet were withered cuttings that had fallen to the blows of a machete. The smell of sap and split bark lingered. The Jimenez’s were certainly determined.

Having sat down for some time to recover after his run, Kerrigan had cooled off and now, out of the sun, he couldn’t get warm again. His legs, hips and back ached from the strain of the pack; his feet were bruised by the extra weight. He felt far worse now than when he’d been running. The closeness of the undergrowth on both sides and the trail’s low ceiling crowded him. The air was cold and still and no sounds came from the forest.

Kerrigan wondered how long it would be before he was just plain scared.

Luis and his mother walked in silence.

The trail seemed far longer on the way out than it had on the way in, even without all the machete work. Luis found his mother’s mood difficult to bear. She wore an expression of nonchalance but her body gave everything away.

She was walking too quickly for the pace to be enjoyable. As she swung her arms, Luis saw her touching each fingertip to her thumb — little finger, ring finger, middle finger, index finger, then back the other way, like she was counting. But he knew she wasn’t counting anything. From time to time she would cast a glance over her shoulder as if checking how far they’d come; impossible because of the way the trail meandered. So what else did this gesture signify, he wondered? He thought he knew the answer. Occasionally, she would begin to hum a tune, something jaunty from a musical she liked, and would get only a few bars into it before stopping, the woods crushing her attempts to be breezy and unconcerned.

All of this annoyed rather than worried Luis. She was letting her thoughts get the better of her. Everything that had pissed her off about the holiday would be festering, boiling up until she could keep it in no longer. He knew who’d bear the brunt of her erupting feelings when the time came.

He allowed his pace to slow a fraction and let her take the lead. The few extra inches between them meant he didn’t have to catch sight of her face telling lies as she tormented herself into a rage.

He had his own reasons for being angry. Hadn’t it been his mother who had taken Carla’s charm necklace away? After what he’d seen when his sister touched the tree, he was sure the charms had some purpose. Even though she’d been hurt by touching the tree, he had the feeling that it might have been worse if she hadn’t been wearing the special necklace Mr Kerrigan had given her. If it had protected her and now she was out in the forest alone, then it was his mother’s fault that Carla no longer had anything to keep her safe.

Luis had been excited about coming to America; the best adventure their father could have chosen. Not only would they be searching for a piece of family history, but they would also have the chance to taste America. Luis had loved all the junk food his mother hated: the pizzas, the burgers, the steaks and fries, the hot dogs, the tacos. It was fabulous. In Spain there was nothing like that. The only thing stopping him from sitting down for a rest right now, was knowing that back in Hobson’s Valley he could get a huge bacon double cheese burger at Segar’s Cabin.