From the icebox, Finn Jones removes a well deserved beer. Screwing off the cap, he stares at liquid inside like it's some kind of amber nectar. As he places the bottle to his lips, he is horrified to hear the annoying high pitched buzz of his cell phone. He slams the bottle down on the counter and places the mobile to his ear,
"What the hell do you want?" he demands aggressively.
"Uh, hello?" a voice unknown says, "Is this Detective Jones?"
"Yeah that's me, who is this?"
"Doctor Cole, we met last night,"
"Christ. Do you know what time it is Doctor?"
"I thought you'd be the best person to talk to,"
"Then you can come and see me at the precinct tomorrow morning,"
"Wait, just give me five minutes," Cole urges, "Please, it's important. Before you came to my house last night, I heard someone talking about you,"
"What about me?"
"You were the man who caught Jack Crispin, weren't you?"
Jones stares at the open bottle. It'd been so long since he'd had one he couldn't even remember how a beer tasted. But hey, he was a cop. Good cops don't drink on duty.
"You got three minutes,"
"What if it were possible that Crispin didn't kill his family, or that Cop in the city?"
"Doctor, what the hell are you saying?"
"Detective, it's my job to know how to read people. I spoke to him today and he told me something… he just couldn't have been lying,"
"Look, whatever he told you, it doesn't matter, he's a homicidal maniac. He killed his own family for God's sake. Perhaps you'd explain Doctor, why the hell I'm telling you how to do your job?"
"It's funny what you'll believe when you've scared, Detective. Perhaps this'd make more sense if you tracked down the man who threatened me in the back of that taxi last night? And perhaps after you've done that you could explain why the hell I'm telling you how to do your job? What Crispin says may not be true, but these threats are and there has to be a reason for it,"
"Then what do you propose Doctor? That I haul in even Taxi driver in the city?"
"Silent Hill,"
Jones listens to the stillness of the phone line for a few moments, "Silent what?"
Cole explains all that Jack told him that evening, every detail he could accurately recall.
"This just isn't possible Doctor,", "Why not?"
"He claims he was apprehended in this Brahms place?"
"Yeah, by a young cop named Jones. That was you right?"
"I caught the bastard, sure. But I can assure you, I ain't never been, or even heard of a place called Brahms,"
"Are you certain?" Cole asks.
"That's what I said, Doctor,"
"This… doesn't piece together at all,"
"Yeah, that's 'cause it's just some story made up by a head case. Listen Doctor, if you want us to increase the security around your home that's fine, but I ain't the person to talk to. I'm gonna give you the number of the security department and you can…"
Cole abruptly cuts him off, "I just need you to look up this town called Silent Hill. It's your job to help, right?"
Jones chuckles at the Doctor's assessment, "The Jack Crispin case is closed, and any information connected to it is irrelevant to my job,"
"I have to find this town,"
"Then go find it Doctor, nothing's stopping you,"
The line goes dead.
"Guess I pissed him off," Jones mutters to himself.
5.00am. He rolls over and checks the clock again to confirm what his brain is registering. He hasn't slept at all, not one wink. Just been lying here and thinking about the case. The Ellison Lee murder carried all the hallmarks of a Jack Crispin. Then this Doctor pops up with this crazy story about Crispin being innocent. Is the real killer still out there? Is there a copycat on the loose? Is this all just crazy, insane babble dreamed up by a psycho?
And why can't he force that name out of his head? Why is it keeping him awake until five in the morning?
What the hell is Silent Hill?
It's no good, he decides. Sleep won't come now. Carter's words repeat in his head, 'People like us, we don't get any breaks. Our work is our life.'
"Old bastard was right,"
Jones pulls himself out of bed and throws on yesterday's unwashed shirt and jacket. His trousers were creased the last time he was wearing them, they're twice as creased now.
He makes himself a single piece of white toast, skipping the butter, and leaves his apartment whilst eating it.
Downstairs in the lobby, no one's around except the Superintendent. He's asleep on the counter, a sign saying "welcome to South Ashfield Apartments, please ring for service!" sitting next to him.
It's only a short drive to the precinct, and at this time of the morning he even manages to secure a parking spot. It's another muggy morning, yet the snow isn't melting.
The precinct is still and quiet, but not empty. A few of the more committed cops are here, busily doing their jobs, hours before others are even awake. The patrolman gives Finn a polite nod but no one else stops to acknowledge him. That's fine, they'd probably just kick up a big fuss about him being here early.
Not only had he never seen the precinct at early morning, he'd also never seen the basement area. Taking the keys from the shelf, he made for the lift.
"Where you going son?" the Patrolman enquired.
"I need to see the old records," Jones replied, "You still keep them in the basement, right?"
"The paper ones, yeah, but no one looks at them anymore,"
"Well, I'm not even sure why I'm looking but… what I need can't be found with a computer. I gotta see those records,"
"Very well, Detective," the Patrolman says, "Take the stairs. The lift doesn't go down there anymore,"
Nodding politely, Jones takes his leave.
"Uh, may I ask what you're looking for Detective?"
"Nothing much," Jones replies, "Just some info on a town upstate, uh… Silent Hill,"
Jones notices a shift in emotions on the old patrolman's face, who now seems suspicious of the young Detective.
"Something wrong?" Jones asks.
"No, it's just…" he stops to consider, "No, never mind,"
"Hey, if you know something…"
"It's just… There was this guy I knew on the force, twenty, twenty-five years ago by the name of Peters," the patrolman shifts his gaze around the room, "Can we… go somewhere more private?"
Finn Jones enters his office and closes the door behind the patrolman.
"So what's the deal?"
"Okay," the patrolman says. Jones can detect an old pain rising to the surface as the old guy continues, "Peters was my friend. He went missing in Silent Hill,"
"Go on,"
"You see, even though he couldn't remember the place, he was born up that way. His parents moved out here when he was a boy. He was always interested in keeping tabs on it, y'know, reading old history files, looking at maps, stuff like that," he continues, his face darkening with every word, "One day we were at the bar drinking, and he asks me to go up to Silent Hill with him, about a half days drive. Says he just wants to check out what's left of the place,"
"And you said?"
"Hell no!" he snaps, "It's a ghost town, dead as a doornail,"
"What happened there?"
"All kinds of bad shit, Detective; people disappearing, ships sinking without explanation. Peters became obsessed with the place. Started babbling some mumbo jumbo about a cult, and how he was gonna get to the bottom of it,"
"How was given time to work on this case?"
"Peters was pushing sixty, retirement was coming. They kept him on the payroll 'cause he was well known in the area, back from his days walking the beat, an old fashioned community cop, I guess. They let him carry out his investigations into Silent Hill to keep him busy, and as they thought, keep him outta trouble"
Letting out a pained sigh, he continues, "I guess it was… must have been thirty years ago now. There was a fire, large parts of the town went up in flames. After that, the place just seemed to drop off the map entirely…" he hesitates, "…and I never heard from Peters again,"
"Didn't anyone go looking for him?"
"Of course they did but like I said, it's abandoned. There's nothing except a pile of ashes. That's pretty much all I know,"
Satisfied the patrolman has said enough, Jones rises from his seat and approaches the door.
"I gotta ask you Detective," the patrolman says, "Why the fascination with Silent Hill?"
"Christ knows why but the name came up on a case. I just want to know more, that's all,"