All right, and welcome back to the story. We've got some more thing sticking to the basic plot of Heavy Rain.
This will also likely be the last chapter where that's true. Up to this point, things can more or less stay the same, I find. But starting next chapter, an issue comes up that means that the plot will play out very differently than it did before. How so? Well... All I'll say at this point is this: why didn't he bring up the box or cell phone earlier?
And after that? More and more deviations from the plot of the game.
With this, I'll start the chapter. Away we go!
Chapter 3: Suicide Baby
Scott slammed the phone against the receiver for what felt like the millionth time. Not just the day before, but the morning after as well.
Contacting Carter had somehow gotten extremely difficult between the time that he went to Hassan's shop and the time he planned on heading over to Susan Bowles' home. He had called the police station. His office. His home. His cell. Carter wasn't picking up anything. Scott had picked up a Macbook as a gift from Carter, and he had also attempted to send an e-mail. But if he had sent it right, the police lieutenant was still taking very long to get back at him.
This much troubled Scott more than any other. He had finally made a major break on the Origami Killer case, but he couldn't even talk to the very person that hired him to do so. And Scott had run too many situations in his mind.
The only one that seemed to make sense to Scott's mind was the possibility that there was another potential victim that had just disappeared. This thought scared Scott most of all, as it was very likely that this was the case. If it was, he knew he had to work fast.
Which was why he was glad he had woken up early that day. He planned to go to the residence of Susan Bowles, and had arranged to head over there at eight o-clock. He was making good on that so far, as the Bowles residence was not too far away.
And so, Scott sat at his desk, looking at the phone. He decided against calling Carter one last time, as he was certain that he would not receive the message as in every other time Scott had attempted to contact him.
With this, the investigator stood up and walked over to the door. Getting his trenchcoat and taking a deep breath, he exited his apartment and headed out to his car.
Scott pulled up into a rather small home, tin walls seeming to stand in mourning as the rain poured over it. Scott gave the place a brief look before shaking his head. Twisting the keys so that the car stopped, he looked out and stepped into the rain.
He took a moment to look at the house, his hand resting on the car. He took in a deep breath, smiling softly as he did.
Ah, he thought. Asthma free for the moment, and loving it.
Scott then looked over to the house, shaking his head.
Well, I hope Susan Bowles has something I can use, he thought. I'll need it to see that battery that was in that box. Let's hope...
The investigator then walked over to the front door. It was wood. Rather simple, really. He noticed the doorbell to the side. Giving it a sidelong glance, he pressed the doorbell, hearing a ring from within the house.
Scott waited, but there was nothing to greet him. No footsteps, no door opening. Nothing.
Hm. Maybe she's not home.
But Scott decided it wouldn't hurt to try to get the person's attention. After all, she could be in the shower. Maybe she's just getting herself into something presentable. So he decided to knock on the door.
And when he did, he thought he heard a baby cry out from inside. This startled him slightly. Looking to the side, he suddenly noticed a window there. He figured it would not hurt to peek, and so he did so.
As he didn't hear anything, he noticed that there was a baby in the house that had begun bawling after it had been woken. He heard nothing for a few more seconds.
Hm. Nobody's answering the door, the baby's home... The investigator frowned at this turn of events. I don't like the looks of this... There's got to be another way in.
Scott turned around then, and figured he would go around the back to see if there was a back door. It was his only chance at seeing Susan Bowles. The fact that there was something disturbing about the whole thing did not get to Scott until he rounded the house. But by that time, he was at the back door.
He looked over, ascening a couple of stairs as he looked at the back door. Shit, this is crazy, he thought. I don't want to get run in for breaking and entering while investgating a killer... As he ascended the steps, the feeling of dread began to increase.
When he stood in front of the back door, he tested the knob. To his surprise, it was open. The investigator blinked before realizing such, and then he looked into the house. Taking a breath, he stepped into the house of Susan Bowles, the sound of the rain on the pavement lessening and being partly replaced by the pitter-patter of rain on a tin roof.
He found himself in a drab kitchen. It was clean, but not outstanding. He navigated around a small table, keeping an eye on the bottle warmer that was standing on a sink in the corner. Something about this seemed off. Susan must have heard him coming in, and yet there was nothing there.
Scott simply moved on in the house to find himself on the far end of the front door. The baby was crying in its crib in a rather simple living room that was just as drab as the kitchen he was in. There were some beer bottles somewhere along, and a drawer right by the entryway into the kitchen. Scott gave a look around.
And then, a terrible feeling of horror crept into his skin when he spotted a single white sheet directly in front of him behind one of the couches. Seeing the paper, the private eye knelt down. He gingerly took it, and noticed that it had writing on it.
"I can't take it anymore..." read Scott. "Please take care of the baby..."
The gravity of the situation dawned on the investigator almost immediately.
Oh, shit... Oh, shit!
"Oh, no..." he said, leaving the paper there. He turned to the baby and back before looking around. "Wait..."
The house looked like it had just been used for something. There may still be time...
With this hope, Scott walked quickly towards the door, seeing a hallway with a door at the end. He figured that the room was where Susan would be, and so he quickly walked over to the door. When he got to it, he opened it very fast, the door almost slamming against the far wall as he entered. Susan was not in her bed either, as the room was completely empty. However, when he stepped inside and noticed that the door of the bathroom was closed, he somehow knew that the bathroom was the place she would most likely be at.
The investigator rushed to the bathroom door. "Mrs. Bowles!" he called out. He tested the knob, finding resistance.
Shit, no time... Scott looked at the door, and then behind him. There was enough space to rush at the door and throw his body weight against it. He knew it was his only chance at saving a woman's life.
And so, he reared back breifly, and rushed forward. He put his full body weight against the door, the door moving slightly when his body whacked against it. He reared back again, his heart racing as he rushed against the door. He had to save Susan Bowles. There was no question.
With a third rush, the bathroom door catapaulted open, the door slamming against the wall as Scott caught himself just under the medical cabinet. He looked around the bathroom quickly.
In the bathtub was where Susan Bowles lay. The bath was half-full. This would have been calm, if not for the fact that the water was mostly a distorted red.
"Oh, shit!"
Scott rushed over to the bathtub, shaking Susan' shoulders.
"Susan, can you hear me?" he asked, shaking her shoulders as his expression slowly became more horrified. "Susan, wake up! Susan!"
The investigator didn't need to look at her arms to know that she had most likely slashed her wrists. And so, Scott reached into the bathtub, his sleeves getting soaked in the water as he made sure Susan was secure in his arms. When he felt he had gotten Susan firmly in his arms, he quickly lifted her out of the bathtub and walked out of the room. He laid Susan gently down on the bed.
And thankfully, as soon as he set her down, she stirred, looking up to her savior with a look of bewilderment on her face. She briefly opened her mouth. "Wh... who...?"
"Scott Shelby," he replied. "Private investigator. I'm going to go call an ambulance."
As he exited the room, the woman seemed to bolt up as much as she could after losing as much blood as he did. "No... I don't want an ambulance," she says.
Scott turned and shook his head. "But you just tried to kill yourelf!" he protested. "You need some help!"
"I... I don't want an ambulance..." repeated Susan. "I have something to bandage these wounds up."
I still don't think it's a good idea to leave you here... But I'll humor you for now. "All right," Scott said, relenting softly. "I'll look for it."
Scott quickly entered the bathroom, noting the cabinet with a mirror just above the sink. Right, that should have everything I'll need.
He opened the cabinet, and sure enough he saw a roll-up bandage, several band-aids, and other things to cover wounds.
"All right, I'll need this, this, and this," he said out loud, grabbing the bandage, band-aids, and something to dry up her hands. With this, he ran back into the bedroom, setting everything besides where Susan lay. He prepared the cloth to halt the bleeding, and pulled Susan's arm to him. As he did this, he grabbed the cloth and pressed it against her wrists. After waiting a few seconds, he left the cloth draped over the suicidal mother's leg.
"Susan, stay with me, okay?" asked Scott as he grabbed the bandage and proceeded to roll it around her arms. "Stay with me."
He looked over to the band-aids, quickly taking two out as he held the bandage in place. As soon as this was done he pulled the band-aids out of their wrappings and applied them to the bandage. When it stayed, Scott immediately turned his attention to the other wrist.
"I'm here, Susan," he said again as he grabbed the cloth and pressed it against the cut on her other wrist. "Everything's going to be all right."
Grabbing the bandage, Scott quickly discarded the cloth, not caring where it landed as he threw it very gently. He promptly wrapped the bandage around Susan's wrist, and then grabbed another air of band-aids and wrapped them around the wrist. He looked at his handiwork as Susan stirred.
"There, I've done what I can," he says. "Fortunately the cuts weren't too deep. That should stop the bleeding."
Phew. Saved the mother. Hopefully she'll live another day.
Scott's thoughts were interrupted by a sharp cry from the baby in the other room. He looked behind him with wide eyes as the baby cried out. And Susan rose, the bed shifting behind her as she tried to get up.
"My baby needs me!" she said.
But Scott knew she had to get some rest to help replenish the blood. He gently brought his hands to Susan's shoulders and gently pushed her back down onto the bed. "No," he said simply. "You need to get some rest. I'll take care of it."
Susan's expression was perplexed as Scott did this. "But do you know what to do with a baby?" she asked.
Scott smiled, patting her shoulders as he gestured with his shoulders. "I'm a private eye," he replied. "There's nothing I can't do."
The investigator stood up, and walked towards the exit of the room. "Her name is Emily," called out Susan.
"Emily," he repeated as he stopped briefly at the doorway. "Got it."
Good thing I did all that babysitting work in high school, he thought. At least I know what to do with a baby now.
And with this, Scott suddenly looked at his hands, seeing how bloody they were. First, I should get something done about the blood, though. I wouldn't want to wake up with blood on my clothes, even if I'm a baby.
With this, he gave a glance at Emily crying before he walked over to the kitchen. He saw the sink, and approached it. Turning on the tab for cold water, he brought his hands underneath and washed the blood off of them. When they were completely off, he turned the tap off and waved his hands around to get the water off of them.
Okay, that should take care of that. With this in mind, he sauntered back over to the living room, turning his full attention to the crib, where Emily lay.
"Hey Emily," he said over the baby's crying. "What's wrong?"
He leaned forward and breathed in. He almost instantly regretted doing so, for then his nostrils got a whiff of something nasty.
"Ugh..." he said, leaning back a bit. "Going by the smell, I think I've got a pretty good idea..."
With this, he brought his arms over to Emily and picked her up, the baby seeming to become a little more calm as its crying began to lessen. Scott carried her over to the table where he saw the spare daipers in a box, and then laid Emily down.
"Now... how does this go again?" he asked, looking down at the baby. Laying her down and taking the baby's clothes off, he saw the daiper right in front of him. Unfastening the daiper, he lifted the baby up briefly, pulling the daiper to the side before grabbing a clean daiper from within the package. He slipped this new daiper under Emily, and then fastened it as she giggled happily. Scott reapplied her clothes, and then picked her up, the baby giggling as smiled at Scott.
"There, that should just about do it," he said to the baby with a friendly smile on his face. Scott gently lowered her into the crib, and stepped back. Almost as soon a he did, however, she started crying again. "Oh, what's the matter Emily?" he asked. "I thought I solved the problem!"
Maybe she's hungry. The thought came to Scott almost immediately, and he realized it probably held a lot of truth. Looking over, he noticed a bottle of milk laying on the side.
He picked it up and examined it. I should warm this up. He remembered the bottle warmer that he saw when he entered the house in the first place. Thinking of this, he walked over to the kitchen with the bottle in tow, and placed the bottle in the warmer. This, he turned on, and was left to wait for a second.
As he waited, he got lost in thought. To before John had become a raging drunkard. He had a wife and child, and Scott would sometimes come over and take care of the baby for him. That was before she left him, though. The investigator couldn't believe the nerve of John's wife for leaving him like that. After all, their situation was rather nice. Nevertheless, his wife leaving him was likely one of the things that got John into alcohol. Shame; the baby was really cute.
His thoughts were interrupted by the ding of the bottle finishing its warming routine. A loud ding sounded, and then Scott walked over and pulled the bottle out. He shook it slightly, testing its warmth. When he was satisfied, he left the kitchen and went over to Emily. He picked her up, and cradled her in one of his arms.
"All right," he said. "Now I'm going to tip this bottle just a little bit so that you don't choke, all right?"
I don't think I needed to say that... With this thought and a roll of his eyes, he tilted the bottle up, bringing it over to Emily's Mouth. The investigator looked down at the baby and the serene expression on her face as she drank the milk. The investigator's eyes dashed to the bottle every so often, making sure that all of the milk was drunk by the baby.
The bottle emptied in time. When he noticed this, he set the empty bottle back on the table and lifted Emily up. The girl was now resting against his shoulder, where Scott held her. Slowly, he began patting her back, rocking her up and down as he did. After a few seconds of doing this, a rather loud belch was heard from the baby, with Scott widening his eyes in surprise at just how loud Emily had burped. The investigator chuckled and cradled her in his arms.
"Oh, I'll bet you're doing just fine now," he says. "Now I'll rock you gently to sleep."
Again, why am I saying these things out loud? The thought occurred to him briefly, and then he simply went to work rocking Emily to sleep. The baby seemed to smile up at him as he did so, and after a few seconds, he felt her weight settle gradually into his arms. And then, Emily was snoozing. Scott moved to the crib slowly, setting her down gently as she snored contentedly.
Scott's smile lingered for a second more before it faded, looking around the room.
Poor thing. She's going to have a tough life ahead of her. He observed the beer bottles around the room, before remembering that Susan Bowles was still in the house. And hopefully still breathing.
With this, he turned around and walked back down the hallway where Susan's room was. He opened the door to find Susan sitting against the edge of the bed. When he entered, her gaze fell upon the investigator, and she nodded.
"Thank you," she said softly. "I barely even know who you are... but thank you."
"Hey, I'm a private eye," replied the investigator. "It's part of the job description."
Susan nodded. "It's just been so hard ever since... Since Jeremy..." she nearly lost her composure as a tear slid down her eye. Her hand came up to her eyes, wiping the tears as Scott entered the room. "...I'm sure you know by now..."
Scott leaned against the wall. "I think so," he said. "Especially with the media hounding the damn story no matter what happens. Where's your husband?"
The woman took a moment to gather her composure before continuing. "He left," she says. "The day after Jeremy disappeared... he just took off. He didn't even say a word. He just came in with a brown shoebox and took off."
Again with the box. Scott mused on this as he looked down at Susan. This means... yes, it's part of the Origami Killer's methods... but why would he give the fathers a box after kidnapping their sons...? Is he... trying to help them find them...?
The mother shook her head. "I don't know what happened to the box itself," she said. "He took off with it before I could see what was inside. He left a cell phone, though."
Scott rose his eyebrows at this. "He left a cell phone?" asked the investigator.
"Yes," replied Susan, looking over to the man who had saved her. "Why?"
The man glanced briefly at the wallpaper, wondering how to put it to her. Finally, he pushed himself off of the wall and walked over to the bed.
"I've been hired to look for the Origami Killer by a friend," replied Scott as he sat down next to the mother. "I visited another parent of a victim. And this parent gave me a box almost exactly of the box you just described. I actually looked inside the box."
Susan's eyes seemed to glimmer in some kind of anticipation as she turned her head slowly to face him. "What was in it?" she asked.
Scott's fists tightened. "There were five origami figures, a hand-gun, and a cell phone," he says. "And a battery to go with the phone. But the cell phone was damaged badly enough that I couldn't insert the battery..."
The woman nodded at this. "I kept the cell phone," she said. "You should take it. I think it'll be of much more use to you than it will be to me. It's in the drawer by the crib."
Scott nodded. "Got it," he says as he stands up. "Do you have anyone to help you take care of Emily?"
Susan hesitated slightly. "My mother," she replies, her voice dropping. "We've been distant lately... but I suppose... I'll call her as soon as I can."
The investigator nodded and approached the door. "You take care of Emily," he said as he walked towards the door. "And I swear I'll catch the Origami Killer before he can cause harm to anybody else."
The mother said nothing, simply sitting at the edge of the bed as Scott closed the door when he left. He walked through the hallway and back into the living room, taking a look at Emily's sleeping form as he noticed a drawer. He knelt down briefly and opened the drawers. He stopped when he saw a cell phone in one of them. Frowning, he picked up the cell phone.
Hm... It's the same model as Hassan's cell phone, he noted. He peered at the phone from a different angle. And there's a battery already in there. If it's still there, though, I doubt the battery power is still functioning. Well... at least I can use the battery that was in Hassan's box.
With this, the investigator stored it in his pant pocket, not daring to get it wet as the rain was still going. With a soft sigh, he looked around the house, walking towards the kitchen. He gave one last look at Emily sleeping there.
And as he did, he couldn't help but wonder what a bleak future was in store for Susan and Emily Bowles. Emily had to grow up without a father. Susan had to raise her pretty much on her own. Their life would not be easy, and Scott half considered offering his own services to help. But in the end, he knew anything he could do was probably worthless, as his job would mean that he would never have time to see either of them. And so, Scott was left to hope that after the suicide things would turn out for the better.
With a soft expression, he exited through the back door of the Bowles home, his sympathies reaching out to Susan. And the sad situation of Susan Bowles was the only thing on his mind as he drove back home in the rain in the cool autumn morning.