The Crow
A Poet's Grief
By NiteFenix
Chapter 6 – Enigma
AFRAID? Of whom am I afraid?
Not death; for who is he?
The porter of my father's lodge
As much abasheth me.
Of life? 'T were odd I fear a thing
That comprehendeth me
In one or more existences
At Deity's decree.
Of resurrection? Is the east
Afraid to trust the morn
With her fastidious forehead?
As soon impeach my crown! – Emily Dickinson
Ramsey pulled his coat tightly around him, trying to keep the rain out, but failing in the attempt. He was soaked from head to toe. He had arrived in Rome the day before, the Boston Police had found conclusive evidence that the perpetrator they were chasing was on his way here. He would work together with the Italian Police to track him down.
After identifying the man in the car wreck as Georgio Valentino, a well respected Italian Mafia member and also from native Rome, they knew that foul play was involved. It had been two days since the car crash so the guy they were chasing had to already be here. They connected Valentino with this perp through the same symbol in the mafia boss' study. Valentino's bodyguard had been strung up against the ceiling and the crow symbol was drawn around the body in blood. His stomach still churned at the memory of it.
He walked along the cobbled pavement towards the ancient-looking building with 'Polizia' printed on a sign above the door. A man was standing outside under the roof slightly sticking out in front of the door in a rain slicker. He was smoking, keeping his eyes warily on Ramsey as he approached.
"Ciao.." The officer nodded at Ramsey as the older man walked past him and opened the door. The office was like an ant's nest. There were people everywhere; running between desks; telephones were ringing; criminals were sitting lined up on a bench waiting to be booked, other prisoners were in cells.
Ramsey asked the police officer at the front desk where the chief of the police station was. His Italian was fluent, as was his German and Vietnamese. He had served in the US Military and during skirmishes he had learned the languages of the countries he was in.
"You may follow this aisle and go just around the corner Mr. Ramsey. Lt. Fabioz is in the big office at the end of the hall, he is expecting you." The man said in Italian.
Ramsey thanked him and walked towards the chief's office.
"Ah Mister Ramsey, so pleased to meet you." Fabioz said as Ramsey entered.
"Same here." Ramsey replied.
"Your superior has informed me of your business in Rome. But tell me, in your own words, why are you here?" Fabioz had a menacing look in his eyes. Ramsey decided he couldn't trust this man, so he only relayed minor details to the Lieutenant.
"You have our full support Mr. Ramsey." The little man smiled and extended his hand to Ramsey. Ramsey reluctantly shook it and stood up again. Fabioz walked with him back to the front door where Ramsey walked back out into the rain again.
He had no leads, he knew that. Best to start at the source he decided and walked to the nearest telephone booth. The rain was pouring and it was a comfort to be inside the old telephone booth. Since he didn't trust Fabioz, he looked up the information he needed in the telephone directory.
He found what he was looking for almost immediately and inserted a coin into the payphone's slot. As he punched in the numbers from the telephone directory a cold chill went through him, as if it was Déjà vu.
"Ciao Mr. Fabrezio, my name is Paul Ramsey, I'm a Private Investigator from Boston in the United States, I was wondering if you could help me."
"Mr. Ramsey how can I help you?" Antonio Fabrezio's cool voice came drifting across the line.
"I was wondering if you've heard or seen anything...unusual in your ring of respectable businesses in the last one to two days." Ramsey asked.
"Hmmm, nothing I can think of right now. Is there any way I can get in contact with you if something does come up Mr. Ramsey?" Fabrezio replied.
"Yes, you can reach me at my hotel." Ramsey gave Fabrezio the hotel's number and his room number then hung up. He tried a couple of other contacts, but turned up no results either. He decided to go to his hotel and wait things out. As he walked out of the booth, the telephone began ringing.
He picked it up.
"Hello..." He said.
"Mr. Ramsey, I see you've come this far. Enjoying the game?" The familiar husky voice asked.
"So far. Are you here?"
"I'm everywhere." The voice replied.
"Who are you?"
"Who I am is not important, yet, but you will learn in time."
"So what's next then?" Ramsey asked, dabbing at his face with a handkerchief.
"Go to your hotel, as you planned to do before I called, and wait for my call. I will call again in one hour." Ramsey heard a click and the phone went dead.
He took this as his cue and left the phone booth. The hands on his watch showed 4:15 PM. The rain clouds obscured the sun and gave the entire city an impenetrable dark veil. It was like it was night. When he reached his hotel he asked the clerk if there were any messages for him. Law had left a message by phone, asking him to call him as soon as he got back from the police station.
Ramsey went to his room and punched in the international dialing code for the US followed by Law's home number. It was early morning in Boston, Law would probably still be at home, he thought.
The telephone was ringing. The answering machine on the other side came to life.
"Hi, Jayce, I got your message. Just got back from the boys in blue's office, they say they will give their full cooperation. Thanks again for letting me handle this on my own. Gimme a call when you get in. Seeya." Ramsey hung up the phone and went over to the desk where the drinks he ordered stood. He poured himself a bourbon and sat down on the bed, starting to go over the evidence he had so far.
What could he conclude about the guy who was doing all this killing. This guy had a thing for crows, almost a passion. It was ironic how this guy had come to a cultural center like Rome which was famous for its art.
The phone jumped to life. The jingle of the antique phone almost made Ramsey jump. He walked over and picked up the phone.
"Mr. Ramsey, listen carefully." The familiar husky voice said.
"I'm listening." Ramsey replied.
"You've probably figured out by now that the person you are chasing is not normal. His name is James Bradbury. You probably recognize the name from the Raven Murders as you like to call it."
"But how is that possible?" Ramsey asked.
"Mr. Ramsey the world as you know it is only a veil for what lies beneath the surface. There is a war and as with all wars there are a number of people involved who are there to battle the evil of this world. The case you've been following is a small part of this war. The corporation behind the attacks on yourself and your fiancé was against the normal set of rules laid out for this war. It was a violation of a sacred code."
"Hold on, hold on. What's this about wars and sacred codes?" Ramsey demanded.
"James Bradbury is one of our agents, he doesn't realize it but he is a part of this war. But as I said before he is not normal. Within the crow, lies his power. It makes him immortal. But like James, there are others. The evil ones. The snakes. They want nothing less than to destroy every living soul in this universe and claim supreme power."
Ramsey sat in silence, unable to believe what he was hearing.
"You wanted to know who I am." The husky voice said.
"I am one of many mentors. We are each assigned to watch over an agent. From the shadows we make sure that they follow the right path and do not stray. If the power of the crow falls into the hands of the snakes, then we are all doomed."
"What does this have to do with me?" Ramsey asked.
"You, Mr. Ramsey have been chosen to be invited into the fold. To help the Ramalah in it's ongoing struggle against the Xanado."
"That's what the X stands for on those tattoos, isn't it?"
"Yes Mr. Ramsey. They are the minions of the Xanado. Once they are marked, they are His forever. Even after death."
"Where do I find James?" Ramsey asked his new Malefactor.
"Find Johnny Lang and you will find James Bradbury."
The phone went dead again and Ramsey was left standing in the hotel room with a little more certainty.
*-*-*-*-*-*
Meanwhile in the countryside to the north of the great city, Jim was already on his way to Johnny's villa. If only he knew what was coming for him, Jim thought and a grim smile spread across his lips.
Death comes for us all. Even Johnny Lang.
A/N Finale on it's way! Keep an eye on this story!
Chapter 6 – Enigma
AFRAID? Of whom am I afraid?
Not death; for who is he?
The porter of my father's lodge
As much abasheth me.
Of life? 'T were odd I fear a thing
That comprehendeth me
In one or more existences
At Deity's decree.
Of resurrection? Is the east
Afraid to trust the morn
With her fastidious forehead?
As soon impeach my crown! – Emily Dickinson
Ramsey pulled his coat tightly around him, trying to keep the rain out, but failing in the attempt. He was soaked from head to toe. He had arrived in Rome the day before, the Boston Police had found conclusive evidence that the perpetrator they were chasing was on his way here. He would work together with the Italian Police to track him down.
After identifying the man in the car wreck as Georgio Valentino, a well respected Italian Mafia member and also from native Rome, they knew that foul play was involved. It had been two days since the car crash so the guy they were chasing had to already be here. They connected Valentino with this perp through the same symbol in the mafia boss' study. Valentino's bodyguard had been strung up against the ceiling and the crow symbol was drawn around the body in blood. His stomach still churned at the memory of it.
He walked along the cobbled pavement towards the ancient-looking building with 'Polizia' printed on a sign above the door. A man was standing outside under the roof slightly sticking out in front of the door in a rain slicker. He was smoking, keeping his eyes warily on Ramsey as he approached.
"Ciao.." The officer nodded at Ramsey as the older man walked past him and opened the door. The office was like an ant's nest. There were people everywhere; running between desks; telephones were ringing; criminals were sitting lined up on a bench waiting to be booked, other prisoners were in cells.
Ramsey asked the police officer at the front desk where the chief of the police station was. His Italian was fluent, as was his German and Vietnamese. He had served in the US Military and during skirmishes he had learned the languages of the countries he was in.
"You may follow this aisle and go just around the corner Mr. Ramsey. Lt. Fabioz is in the big office at the end of the hall, he is expecting you." The man said in Italian.
Ramsey thanked him and walked towards the chief's office.
"Ah Mister Ramsey, so pleased to meet you." Fabioz said as Ramsey entered.
"Same here." Ramsey replied.
"Your superior has informed me of your business in Rome. But tell me, in your own words, why are you here?" Fabioz had a menacing look in his eyes. Ramsey decided he couldn't trust this man, so he only relayed minor details to the Lieutenant.
"You have our full support Mr. Ramsey." The little man smiled and extended his hand to Ramsey. Ramsey reluctantly shook it and stood up again. Fabioz walked with him back to the front door where Ramsey walked back out into the rain again.
He had no leads, he knew that. Best to start at the source he decided and walked to the nearest telephone booth. The rain was pouring and it was a comfort to be inside the old telephone booth. Since he didn't trust Fabioz, he looked up the information he needed in the telephone directory.
He found what he was looking for almost immediately and inserted a coin into the payphone's slot. As he punched in the numbers from the telephone directory a cold chill went through him, as if it was Déjà vu.
"Ciao Mr. Fabrezio, my name is Paul Ramsey, I'm a Private Investigator from Boston in the United States, I was wondering if you could help me."
"Mr. Ramsey how can I help you?" Antonio Fabrezio's cool voice came drifting across the line.
"I was wondering if you've heard or seen anything...unusual in your ring of respectable businesses in the last one to two days." Ramsey asked.
"Hmmm, nothing I can think of right now. Is there any way I can get in contact with you if something does come up Mr. Ramsey?" Fabrezio replied.
"Yes, you can reach me at my hotel." Ramsey gave Fabrezio the hotel's number and his room number then hung up. He tried a couple of other contacts, but turned up no results either. He decided to go to his hotel and wait things out. As he walked out of the booth, the telephone began ringing.
He picked it up.
"Hello..." He said.
"Mr. Ramsey, I see you've come this far. Enjoying the game?" The familiar husky voice asked.
"So far. Are you here?"
"I'm everywhere." The voice replied.
"Who are you?"
"Who I am is not important, yet, but you will learn in time."
"So what's next then?" Ramsey asked, dabbing at his face with a handkerchief.
"Go to your hotel, as you planned to do before I called, and wait for my call. I will call again in one hour." Ramsey heard a click and the phone went dead.
He took this as his cue and left the phone booth. The hands on his watch showed 4:15 PM. The rain clouds obscured the sun and gave the entire city an impenetrable dark veil. It was like it was night. When he reached his hotel he asked the clerk if there were any messages for him. Law had left a message by phone, asking him to call him as soon as he got back from the police station.
Ramsey went to his room and punched in the international dialing code for the US followed by Law's home number. It was early morning in Boston, Law would probably still be at home, he thought.
The telephone was ringing. The answering machine on the other side came to life.
"Hi, Jayce, I got your message. Just got back from the boys in blue's office, they say they will give their full cooperation. Thanks again for letting me handle this on my own. Gimme a call when you get in. Seeya." Ramsey hung up the phone and went over to the desk where the drinks he ordered stood. He poured himself a bourbon and sat down on the bed, starting to go over the evidence he had so far.
What could he conclude about the guy who was doing all this killing. This guy had a thing for crows, almost a passion. It was ironic how this guy had come to a cultural center like Rome which was famous for its art.
The phone jumped to life. The jingle of the antique phone almost made Ramsey jump. He walked over and picked up the phone.
"Mr. Ramsey, listen carefully." The familiar husky voice said.
"I'm listening." Ramsey replied.
"You've probably figured out by now that the person you are chasing is not normal. His name is James Bradbury. You probably recognize the name from the Raven Murders as you like to call it."
"But how is that possible?" Ramsey asked.
"Mr. Ramsey the world as you know it is only a veil for what lies beneath the surface. There is a war and as with all wars there are a number of people involved who are there to battle the evil of this world. The case you've been following is a small part of this war. The corporation behind the attacks on yourself and your fiancé was against the normal set of rules laid out for this war. It was a violation of a sacred code."
"Hold on, hold on. What's this about wars and sacred codes?" Ramsey demanded.
"James Bradbury is one of our agents, he doesn't realize it but he is a part of this war. But as I said before he is not normal. Within the crow, lies his power. It makes him immortal. But like James, there are others. The evil ones. The snakes. They want nothing less than to destroy every living soul in this universe and claim supreme power."
Ramsey sat in silence, unable to believe what he was hearing.
"You wanted to know who I am." The husky voice said.
"I am one of many mentors. We are each assigned to watch over an agent. From the shadows we make sure that they follow the right path and do not stray. If the power of the crow falls into the hands of the snakes, then we are all doomed."
"What does this have to do with me?" Ramsey asked.
"You, Mr. Ramsey have been chosen to be invited into the fold. To help the Ramalah in it's ongoing struggle against the Xanado."
"That's what the X stands for on those tattoos, isn't it?"
"Yes Mr. Ramsey. They are the minions of the Xanado. Once they are marked, they are His forever. Even after death."
"Where do I find James?" Ramsey asked his new Malefactor.
"Find Johnny Lang and you will find James Bradbury."
The phone went dead again and Ramsey was left standing in the hotel room with a little more certainty.
*-*-*-*-*-*
Meanwhile in the countryside to the north of the great city, Jim was already on his way to Johnny's villa. If only he knew what was coming for him, Jim thought and a grim smile spread across his lips.
Death comes for us all. Even Johnny Lang.
A/N Finale on it's way! Keep an eye on this story!