Chapter 27
Maeve stared at the two men as they walked away. An alarm went off in her head. As she turned around to open the car door, she heard her name being called out. Turning back to face the person calling her, she was surprised to see Willie Loomis.
She turned to Max, drew her closer to her side, introduced her to Willie as Barnabas's friend, and William's father. They shook hands and smiled to each other. As Maeve watched them, it looked like two friends meeting again after a long absence. Someone or thing was manipulating events and her instincts told her the big one was on its way and soon.
"Willie, what are you doing here?" Maeve asked, as the two finished their handshaking. There was urgency to his tone as he turned to tell her.
"Maeve, we've gotta hurry. Barnabas and my son are in danger." Looking over her shoulder, he continued, "Can we use yer car? We gotta hurry!" Before answering any more questions, Willie shoved Maeve to the car and started to open the door.
"I'm going too," Max said sternly. She climbed into the back seat and locked the door before Willie could object.
"It's no use, Willie, she's made up her mind and I'm afraid she is as stubborn as her father." When seeing Willie's inquisitive look, she added, "Barnabas. Come, let's go. I'll explain while we drive." She ran around to the driver's side and Willie climbed into the passenger seat. Before getting in, she asked, "Do you know where we are going?"
"I was born with this disease and no one, not even the doctors, knew what it was or how I got it," William Loomis started telling his tale. The gun full of silver bullets still aimed at Barnabas' heart. "They said I had a rare blood disease that wouldn't allow me to tolerate the sun. For the first few years, my parents took me to doctors who administered multiple blood tests, undergone various experiments cleansing my blood, and using experimental drugs. The doctors hoped their experimentations would discover what was wrong and how to correct it."
"I grew up without friends. Since I couldn't attend public school, I had to be taught at home. We couldn't afford a governess like the rich folks so my mother had the fortitude to teach me. She was a good teacher, requiring I learn everything other kids learned in public school. I grew up loving the library. The library stayed open late so I spent many hours every night doing research. I developed an obsession concerning my disease and channeled all my energy into investigating it."
"That's when I discovered some very interesting tidbits from the historical newspapers." Barnabas watched the gun steadily aimed at his chest while he concentrated on the lad's story. His eyebrows rose when he heard "historical newspapers. William uncocked the hammer.
"Yes, I see that interests you too, Mr. Collins," William remarked, observing Barnabas' response. "I found some intriguing facts about the lives of the Collins family dating back two centuries. I couldn't imagine any information dating back that far having anything to do with my problems until I read the stories of several women murdered in the late 18th century. It wasn't the murders that caught my attention, Mr. Collins. It was the way they were killed."
As Maeve drove aimlessly around Collinsport, she asked Willie, "Where are we going, Willie. I need some direction." Max sat quietly listening to the conversation in the car and in her head.
Willie looked out the window chewing on his lower lip. "I don't know. I've been tryin' to figure out why I feel my son wants to harm Barnabas," he paused thinking about the consequences if Barnabas got his hands on his son first. "What if Barnabas," he stopped again afraid to say the words. "We gotta find them." Willie started to mutter as Maeve kept driving.
To help Willie concentrate, she decided to tell him about coming to Maine and meeting Max. 'Maybe that would help us find some direction,' she thought. So Willie heard the entire story of their meeting Barnabas' daughter.
"The historical library contained many old newspaper articles from 1795 when several unsolved murders were committed. The unusual way they died was from puncture wounds on their necks and all their blood drained from their bodies. Some of the reporters concluded witchcraft, satanic rituals or even animal attacks. As I continued to read, I found articles of a publicized witch trial of a governess accused to witchcraft. Normally, I would have skipped those articles, but this one caught my eye."
Barnabas looked down at his hands and fiddled with his ring. William noticed his reaction and smirked. "You remember that, don't you, Mr. Collins?" he laughed. Barnabas jerked his head to look at the man and released a soft growl then repressed it. "Yes, I can tell you do," William laughed triumphantly.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Barnabas replied and looked down again.
"Oh I think you do. I read about that trial and it related to the Collins family. This governess was none other than the one they hired to teach their nine year old daughter, Sarah Collins, your sister I assume." Barnabas cringed when he heard his beloved sister's name spoken by the man intended on killing him. He was ready to strike when William mentioned the name Nathan Forbes.
"Ah, I see you recognize that name, Mr. Collins. I was in the library basement when I found a journal under a loose floorboard. It wasn't a library book but something very old written by Lieutenant Nathan Forbes," William paused to watch Barnabas' reactions. "You see, I did some checking around. The library used to be the prison during the 1700's. Lieutenant Forbes was in prison because he confessed to perjury during the witch trial of the Collins' governess. He wrote in his journal that Barnabas Collins, a monster from hell doing the devil's work, attacked him but he couldn't tell anyone. You had some sort of power over . . ."
"It wasn't me," Barnabas interrupted through gritted teeth.
Ignoring the remark, William continued, ". . . him which forced him to remain silent. He felt compelled to write it down and hoped one day someone would find it so they'd know all about you. He wrote that you were the strangler who murdered those women, and that you had some sort of power over him. He hid the book in the floorboard of his cell. The book was never found until I got my hands on it."
"That proves nothing," Barnabas said softly.
"I didn't think so either until much later."