Chapter 12
Meanwhile:
"Valerie…"
"Papa…"
"…"
"…"
"Valerie what have you done?"
"….."
"Can you hear me? Valerie?"
"G-Gah! I-I-It wasn't my fault, Papa!"
"Valerie, calm down…"
"I tried to save her—
"Valerie—
"—b-b-but I couldn't…"
"We need to get out of here! Someone would've heard the noise by now."
"W-W-What are we going to do with Vanessa? We can't just leave her here! She needs-"
"Breathe, baby girl…"
"I can't believe—I can't believe that I…"
"Hey, hey, hey, it wasn't your fault. Vanessa was attacked and you were trying to protect her. It's instinct for you and I."
"When I saw him grab her and take his knife- I j-j-just lost control of myself. There was no control over anything. I-I-I could see red. Th-That's all I saw when…"
Cesaire opened the window, looking out into the streets, "I hear them. They're coming. They have dogs and horses. Valerie, open the door…" Cesaire picked up Vanessa's body, holding her close to his chest. "We need to go. Now! We have to move."
"What about Charz?"
"He got what he deserved. Leave him here. No one's going to miss him."
"Everyone will want to know why he was murdered in a bakery…" Valerie came to his limp body and took his knife in her hand. "We can't let anyone know it was a wolf attack."
"What are you doing?"
"We need to make it look like he died from a stabbing. We need them to believe he was fighting someone with his own strength and he lost a fight." Valerie punctured the blade into his chest and across his belly, watching the warm blood ooze from his open skin. "The Sheriff won't know the difference."
Valerie followed her father out the back door and to the top of the rooftops, disappearing into the night, returning to their home. They crawled through the window. Cesaire quickly got a pan. Valerie fetched a bucket of water. He lit a fire in the stove. She returned with warm blankets and bandages. He checked her pulse. She removed her shoes and bonnet. He laid Vanessa's unconscious body on the bed, gently resting her head on the pillow as Valerie dabbed her belly with a warm rag.
"I hear her heartbeat."
"Me, too."
Cesaire held her wrist, "She'll be fine. In a couple of hours she'll wake up and when she does… I'll talk to her. Her mother's voice should be the first thing she should hear. But… April wasn't where I thought she'd be."
"You didn't find her?"
"No. Her scent led to a house… but she wasn't there. Madame Alice and her son were there. Dead."
"What!?"
"I'm sorry, Valerie. They were already dead when I found them. I found them and a note."
"What did it say?"
"It told me that my family was in danger and I was the one to suffer. Suffer my sin for taking away the light. Take away the light; there will be forever night… The note read, Able Grey."
"Who's Able Grey?"
"I don't know."
"They're down there. I can hear them."
"I know, baby girl…"
"What do we do?" she gripped his arm, hugging him closer to her, holding her legs from beneath her. "What do we do now?"
Down below their apartment, they could hear the hooves of horses' click-clack over the cobblestone repeatedly while their hunting dogs searched every little smell and scent. Everyone in the neighborhood opened their doors and windows, curious to all the commotion, watching the Sheriff and his constables search the streets. The march of the law enforcement looked like a big parade. Their torches beamed bright. Their swords at the ready. Every street was surrounded. There was nowhere to run or to hide. This was the edge of the world. Both father and daughter held eachother tightly, looking out that window, darkly brooding upon the strange dangerous world below they sat silently loving each other, ready to jump from their positions and fight their way through as wolves if they had to.
"I don't know, baby girl…"
Sheriff Williams had discovered the bloody trail leading to the storage room inside the bakery which led to the horrifying display of a man that had been torn across his belly, gashed and gutted in 8 different ways, sitting in a chair with his head hanging down low. Hand covering his nose, Sheriff Williams called for a chariot and an appointment to see Mr. Grim in the morgue to search for answers in this shocking murderer. His assistant told him there were no witnesses and the murder weapon was found on the floor not far from the body. Kneeling, Sheriff Williams studied the floorboards, the windows, the door hinges, the walls, the roof, the tables, and he inspected the body language. This man looked like he was in a struggle and he wasn't too sure that this man was… in a random fight. He called for his constables to surround the bakery. Walking outside, the fresh air didn't do any good for his conscious nor did it ease the questions popping in his head, it wasn't easy to deal with the murdering and the blood. Taking a pipe with a lit matchstick, the brooding Sheriff took a few long puffs while looking out onto the black horizon of the metropolis city wondering where the killer could be. Mentally, he prepared to execute his vengeful wrath in the morning.
Not a few blocks away from the scene of the crime, high up in the tallest room, through the open window, both wolf father and wolf daughter
"They're not going to win." He gazed into her eyes, holding her hand, squeezing her palm. "I won't let them. They're not going to win." He could smell the fear on her. No father enjoyed seeing his daughter be so afraid of stepping out that door. "Come here..." He pulled her into his lap, the way he did when she was a babe. "I made you a promise that nothing would ever happen to you, Valerie. Ever since the day you were born and I held you in my arms…"
"Papa…"
"I told myself that my daughter will have a happy life…"
"Papa…"
"I told myself you would always be the great love of my life…"
She could feel a sob lump in her throat, "You should be mad at me."
Her hands cupped his.
"You should be mad your daughter is a murderer…"
She bit her lip.
"W-W-When Charz attacked V-V-Vanessa; I tore into his st-st-st-stomach with my teeth and h-h-hands…" she stuttered. Her hands trembled. Her teeth chattered. "B-B-But I wasn't fast enough. Then sh-sh-she dropped to the floor. Th-There was blood everywhere! I couldn't stop it. W-When Charz looked at m-m-me and… saw the real me… I had n-n-no choice! He g-got back his knife and tried to k-k-kill me … but I-I-I… I f-f-felt my hunger at that v-very moment and then… I saw red. That's all I saw. That's all I could see when I saw his eyes. Red. It was all red. Then I s-saw what I had done…" Showing him her hands, she could feel nothing but bitter regret and hatred towards herself when he touched the blood on her fingers. "I didn't mean to. I couldn't stop myself."
Cesaire wiped the blood from her mouth.
"You shouldn't be."
"What do you mean, Papa? I-I just killed someone."
"No. You disposed of a very awful man. You ridded the world of a human evil. You were doing something good and protecting a woman's daughter from being killed from certain death, you avoided another catastrophe. You ended a life, but you saved a life." He looked into her eyes. "Look at me, baby girl. A woman is out there. Separated from her daughter. When April comes back, her daughter is the only person she wants to see. If you hadn't done what you did… she would have lost… everything."
Understanding and accepting his logic, she hugged him, embraced him tightly crying her tears onto his shirt welcoming his strong embrace as she trembled. Dawn was almost here and this terrible night will be over.
"I love you, Papa…"
"Oh, baby girl…" He kissed her head. "Everything will be ok. We just need to be careful. Especially me. Whoever left me that note is planning something big. Whoever is hunting you and I know who we are… and what we are. It could be anyone. Anyone in the city. It could be the Sheriff; it could be a neighbor, or a hunter like Solomon. It could be your friend, Ivy or my employer Mr. Mavis, Mr. Woodsten, Mr. Bufkin, or anyone we've made contact with."
"I have no employer at the bakery. It's surrounded by constables. Where should I go?"
"Stay here with Vanessa and you must stay here until she is nursed back to health. When she wakes, tell her that I am still searching for her mother. Feed her, clothe her, and take care of her."
"Okay, Papa…"
"Dawn is nearly here. I must return back to the factory."
"Come back home safe tonight, Papa…"
"Always."
His hands came to her head, placing a lingering kiss on her forehead, "Be safe."
"Be safe."
"It's you and me."
"It's you and me."
"We're going to beat this world."
"We're going to beat this world."
"Endure."
"Endure."
"And survive."
"And survive."
Unable to jump out the window as he usually did, Cesaire gathered his shoes, gloves and other belongings, gave her one last look, and walked out the door leaving his daughter to sit and care for the poor girl lying on their bed.
Meanwhile:
Mr. Grim and the Sheriff were down in the dwellings of the morgue inspecting the body with careful observation, gazing upon Charz's body lying upon a metal slab table. His stomach had been repaired in attempt to save his organs from dry exposure along with the stab wounds crisscrossing all over his body.
"If I find anything, I'll inform you when I can."
"You inform me immediately."
"T-T-This will take time, Sheriff. The victim is in a rare and tender condition. It will be difficult."
"I've got one more night until the Festival. One more night to catch this killer. People and families with children could be in grave danger. I can't have any loose ends. So you tell me whether or not this is the killer or something else. Because if you ask me… Mr. Charlie Dunson Lappet Grey, also known as Charz, shouldn't have been a victim. Anyone who's anyone… knows that Charz is not a man to be dealt with lightly. He's been rumored to fight in the underground ring under the authority of Mr. Woodsten for years when his crown was taken from him. My assistant, Mr. Henson, knows this because he's personally met with Mr. Woodsten a few good times when he visited the Mayor. The Mayor has been associated with Mr. Woodsten for years even before I was commissioned. Together, those two make a very interesting pair…"
"Then I will inform you, Sheriff…" Mr. Grim looked back at the body, scrubbing his hand over his aged face, looking cautiously towards the taller man. "B-B-But if I may ask, what are your suspicions?"
The blue eyes of the stoic Sheriff sternly looked at the body, gloved his hands, and walked straight towards the exit.
"Psychopathic…."
Meanwhile:
"Don't you believe that Father Solomon was ever… wrong?"
"Yes. But his leadership has kept us alive. I do not question his decisions. I support, but I do not question."
"Was there ever a time that you wished to stop Solomon in his practices?"
"Of course I do. But as holy men, we must set aside the laws of nature and bring up the laws of the almighty Lord and assist and help. We serve for our world. We protect it. In many ways, we must sacrifice a part of ourselves to save the many lives of the innocent."
Henry sipped his tea, watching the colored water tremble in his palms, "W-When I threw the torch at that woman's feet, back at the village… I felt… a part of myself was burned with her."
The older man nodded his head understanding the young boy's grief and guilt.
"I know. I watched you," replied the Captain. "You reminded me of my brother when he and I were hunting the plains of my village. I was teaching him to hunt lions."
"You and your brother hunted lions?"
"Tigers. Bears. Bulls (elephants) and my brother made his first kill when he peaked the age of manhood. After he removed the blade from the neck of the lion, he regretted his action immediately. When he sat there over the mighty cat, I reminded him that those deadly creatures have harmed and killed the people of our village, eating our farmers and fishermen. He changed forever from the day on. He was no longer a boy, but a man. He and I protected our people from those beasts for years and years and soon our reputation proceeded us…"
"Is that how you met Father Solomon?"
He shook his head.
"Not quite. In the dry seasons, I was hunting a troublesome bull in the golden plains that was seen eating our crops when I was attacked by a hippo near the river. With my leg injured, my spear out of reach, I thought my journey would end. But before the hippo would strike me, Solomon charged in. Killing the beast, he and I met. From that day on, I swore the rest of my life to serve him. My brother too."
"I had no idea… "Henry mused, looking up to the noble hunter. "But I'm sure you wish to end your contract with Father Solomon don't you?"
The Captain looked at the boy strangely, "End my contract? What do you mean?"
Henry nodded his head.
"Back in the village, I remember… when he killed your brother to stop him from turning into a wolf on the night of the Blood Moon." Henry recalled looking into the Captain's eyes, watching memory turn into pain as he recounted the sword piercing into the heart of his sibling. "I saw the look on your face when Solomon had done what he had done and… I saw your desire to take up a sword, go to the man, and do the same act of violence to him. But why would a man do that to someone who pledged their whole life to him and end that life so suddenly? Is that the worth and cost of the men of God?"
What a thing to say.
The Captain did not saw a word to the young lad nor did he want to, taking thought to mind about the boy's… gift of vision. Henry's sight was as clear and pure as his heart, speaking true and affectionately.
He missed his brother.
Henry knew this.
"Isn't taking a life the cost of saving 100 lives, but better not to kill than to benefit one's own soul?"
Meanwhile:
Sheriff Williams entered his office holding parchment in his hands, walking through the entrance, shutting the doors, shrugging off his coat, then taking a seat across from a surly baker by the name of Jacques, employee of the bakery owned by Madame Alice. The old man didn't seem to be so patient with his interrogator, lighting his pipe, scowling, and scrubbing his face with his palm.
Neither shook hands.
"Jacques?"
"Sheriff."
They addressed.
The Sheriff unbuttoned the brass buttons that cuffed his sleeves, relaxed his wrists and looked at the man.
The man looked at him in return.
"I understand that you were the employee of a bakery located in the Middle Class owned by a woman by the name of Madame Alice, who recently was found murdered in the Upper Class state whom was found with her son, Christopher."
"Oui…"
"Did you personally know Madame Alice?"
"No."
"Did you know her husband, Mr. Bufkin?"
"No."
Williams gave him a look.
"Oh really? I have a source that tells me that you and Mr. Bufkin are drinking pals at the local pub. You both were last scene there the day before yesterday. Early celebrating for the Festival I assume? Or escaping a day of married life?"
The Sheriff noticed him squirm in his seat.
"My source also tells me that you were seen in Mr. Woodsten's private quarters."
"No—"
"-Also, have I informed you that Mr. Woodsten's private quarters are for political use only? Even I can't use those quarters, nor my officers or any of my constables. Seems that you and Mr. Bufkin know Mr. Woodsten very personally or—"
"Now, wait a minute-!"
"-You paid an illegal fee that could put you and Mr. Bufkin away for a long, long time. And your personal certificate tells me that you've lived long enough in the city to know the city's fees, correct?"
"No, that's not true!"
"Did you also participate in payment of the services of his prostitutes, too? You and Mr. Bufkin were having a fantastic night? That's another hefty fine! Not to mention what your wife might think-"
"No!"
He shot up from his seat, "Are you denying it!?"
"No—" he threw his pipe on the table.
He leaned his palms against the table, "Your wife tells me that you disappeared two days before? You were gone until dawn? That's a funny schedule for a baker of your stature." He watched the baker gulp, watching his twitching fingers. "Where did you go? What did you do? Oh, wait, let me guess."
Williams pointed a finger.
"Did that give you time to kidnap and murder Madame Alice and her son so you could gain financial power of the bakery?"
"No! It wasn't like that!"
He calmed his voice a bit, leaning closer, "Then where did you go? I can't imagine any pub would want you! Your record of fast gambling and heavy drinking is quite the sound. For months you've been in brawls that lead to more arrests than I can count. Your neighbors tell me that your proprietor is giving you one final warning before throwing out to the Lower Class…" Sheriff Williams leaned forward, weaving his fingers together, giving a smirk. "That's not what you want, is it… Jacques?"
"N-No. No—"
"You did it, didn't you!?" he slammed his fists against the table.
"No. I didn't kidnap Madame Alice!" he yelled.
"You are under oath to tell the truth!?" he shouted!
"I didn't do anything to her or her son. I didn't kill anyone!"
He threw his arms up, "For years you've worked under her supervision and finally you couldn't take it anymore, you were fed up with her work, you wanted your way but couldn't have it, then when you saw your opportunity to take the power and money, you took it! Maybe she never paid you the price you wanted. Maybe you wanted to be successful in business but never had the chance!" The Sheriff circled around the squirming man, leaning close to his head, whispering in his ears, raising his voice. "Then you killed her! You waited until she left from her office, dragged her into an alley, and killed her. You murdered a married woman in cold blood."
"None of that is true!"
"Then tell me!"
"That night I disappeared, I was with Mr. Bufkin. He told me about his troubles with his wife. You see… Mr. Bufkin and her weren't doing so good. Their troubles began almost 6 months ago when he was first jailed for disturbing the peace and he was never the same after that and he certainly didn't change. He lost the respect of his sons and his wife never saw him as a real man anymore, which made him disgusted with himself. He looked for something better in the company of Mr. Woodsten's people, which helped scratch the itch but never made him happy again."
"What happened after that?"
"Things got worse. He began taking something new called… opium. I've never heard of that. But, that helped him. But opium had side effects. He became wild and drunk, enraged, flustered, and very emotional about his new life here in Middle Class. Then a couple of days ago, Madame Alice told him. She admitted to him that she was having an affair with the butcher and that she was going to take her sons to live in the Upper Class…"
"She was having an affair?" asked the Sheriff, excited by this new lead. "With whom? Tell me."
"Mr. Marcus…" he whispered. "He and Bufkin were good friends once…"
"Tell me about him."
"A good man, a decent man, a hard worker, a good father, provides well… and a good liar. Madame Alice isn't the only woman he's been having an affair with. He's been known to be a womanizer."
"So… that's how you're all connected," the Sheriff smiled. "You, Mr. Bufkin, Madame Alice, and Mr. Marcus…"
"Oui..."
"That's quite a scandal."
"Oui…" Jacques frowned, averting his eyes to his pipe, taking a few long puffs watching the smoke swirl in the air. "I've told you everything I know. I don't know anything else! Can I walk free now?"
The Sheriff flipped through the pages of parchment sitting in his lap. He might've been telling the truth. Or maybe he was withholding more information about the case. Every fiber of his body told him to keep the baker here for further questioning and the other half of him warned him to keep a hawk's eye on the man. Either way, there was no way he was letting him leave.
"Not quite. I still haven't ruled you out as… innocent, yet. You're still ruled as a suspect in this investigation. Do take note that you are not being trialed or arrested. But you will stay here until all lists are cleared…"
His eyes widened and he jumped up, "You can't keep me here against my will! You can't keep me here!"
"We can and we will. It is for your own protection."
The Sheriff leaned in, whispering. "There is a… psychopathic murderer… out there killing anyone who even breathes a whisper about the bodies we've found across the city. We don't know the motives, yet. But if you walk out those doors without the protection of my constables, then there is no doubt that you will have an appointment with Mr. Grimm down in the morgue soon. I don't want you to be killed. You will be housed here. Comfortable and safe." Williams crossed his legs, moving his weight from side to side like it was the most natural thing in the world, giving the baker a friendly smile, quickly forgetting their heated argument. "My constables have been ordered to stay here with you until we catch this man. You will have nothing to fear. You or your family."
Meanwhile:
"Can you hear me Vanessa?" Valerie whispered softly, dabbing the wet cloth on her head.
The poor girl still hadn't awakened. The gash in her belly still looked terribly sensitive and tender, but she was far from danger of infection, fever, or death. Bandaged and perfectly wrapped, the human girl continued to sleep while a loyal she-wolf waited by her bed side hoping for the best. The early rays of dawn were finally here, shining through the window into the bedroom. Finding the iron kettle and fetching water, she knew that Vanessa would be thirsty for some fresh tea once she was awake. But she was wrong.
"M-m-m-m-m-m-m…"
"Vanessa?"
"M-m-m-m…"
"Vanessa, can you hear me?"
She blinked her eyes open, waving her hands around, "M-m-mother…?"
"Don't move. You were badly hurt last night. If you move, I'll have to bandage your belly, again."
Vanessa opened her eyes slowly allowing the sunlight to blur her vision. Slowly raising her head, she enjoyed the warmth of the morning, and then looked upon her caretaker and savior, bobbing her head up and down. Valerie smiled, holding her hand. She smiled and dabbed the cloth.
"Welcome back. My father is still looking for your mother. But he says not to worry. He says that he's going to find her and bring her back, so you can go home. It's almost over, Vanessa. When he comes back with your mother, everything will go back to the way it was, you'll be happy, and she'll be happy, and everyone will be happy. Just wait and see…"
"Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-You're a-a-a-a w-w-w-wolf…"
Blood went cold.
Face turned as pale as a seashell.
"What? "
She began to tremble, trying to move from the cushion of her bed, "Y-Y-You're a… w-w-wolf."
