Since Loose & Lanky's kidnapping, there had been no activity from either the Twister or his blue-skinned allies, and that was putting everybody on edge. I wondered if perhaps Lord Sith had managed to outwit the Twister, take his fragment and run. Part of me hoped that it was true and that the nightmare was over with. But if that were so, there were the unpleasant implications of just what Sith and his cohorts planned to use the fragment for. And then there was the ultimate fate of the Twister's victims. I must've spent many a restless night wondering what became of those souls after they had been devoured, whether they simply disappeared, or if they continued to exist, and what new fate awaited them. I tried not to think about it. I really tried.
Our only hope was for Lynne to follow Scrawny's lead, and that meant a visit to the deBok estate.
"I don't like this," Lynne muttered as she and Loose & Lanky approached the front gate.
"Just play it coooool, baby," said Loose & Lanky reassuringly. "You'll do fiiine."
"These are a powerful group of people," Lynne said nervously. "If I say one thing outta line, we're screwed."
"You've got me and Cabanela on your side," I said to her.
Lynne took a deep breath and pressed the buzzer. There was silence for a moment or two before the intercom began to crackle.
"deBok family estate. May I ask who is speaking? " said the man on the other side of the intercom in a bored, tired tone.
"I'm Detective Lynne, and this is Inspector Cabanela," Lynne replied. "We're from the city police. We were hoping to speak with the head of the household."
"Do you have an appointment, ma'am?"
Lynne and Loose & Lanky looked at each other anxiously – they hadn't been expecting this.
"Well, you see," Lynne replied, "we don't actually have one, but-"
"I'm sorry ma'am, but unless you have a warrant I must ask you to leave."
Lynne groaned.
"Let them in, Martin," came a second voice over the intercom.
"B-but sir!" the first voice stammered. "They don't-!"
"Martin."
There was silence for a second or two, before the first voice gave an awkward cough.
"My apologies, officers," said the first voice. "Please make your way inside once I open the gate. The Master shall greet you shortly."
The gate opened with a mechanical whir, and Lynne and Loose & Lanky tentatively made their way towards the front door. The door opened, and standing there to greet us was the Soft-Spoken Gentleman with a friendly smile.
"I do apologise for the inconvenience, officers," said he. "But when you're in my line of business, you need to be certain about your security."
"Of course," Lynne replied. "May we come inside?"
"Oh yes, how rude of me," the Soft-Spoken Gentleman guided us down the hall. "Do come right this way, please."
We were led to the living room – a large room with wooden floors and furnished with red leather seats. It was opulent by all standards, but compared to the Little Ambassador's garden I found it rather disappointing. The Soft-Spoken Gentleman motioned Lynne and Loose & Lanky to make themselves comfortable.
"Well, it certainly is wonderful to see you again," said the Soft-Spoken Gentleman. "But to what, may I ask, do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?"
"We want to ask a feeeew simple questions," Loose & Lanky told him. "About a certain Kenshin Charivari."
The Gentleman's expression fell and he let out a sigh, "Oh yes, that poor man. And to leave behind a child of such a young age…"
"So, you knew Mister Charivari?" Lynne asked.
"He was my father's accountant," the Gentleman replied sadly. "That is, until he had a falling out with my father and he was forced to terminate Mr Charivari's employment. Of course, no one could've foreseen that he'd take his own life-"
"Actually," Lynne interrupted him, "we now believe he was actually murdered."
The Gentleman sat to attention, a look of surprise on his face. "Murdered?"
"Yes," Lynne replied. "We were hoping to talk to anyone in the family who might've known him, trying to pin down his final movements, whether he had any enemies or financial troubles, stuff like that."
The Gentleman didn't reply, instead choosing to get up from his seat and pace around the room, a troubled look on his face. Finally, he turned back to Lynne and Loose & Lanky. "Detectives," he spoke cautiously, "I know you haven't actually said anything, but am I correct in assuming, perhaps… you believe someone in my family…?"
Lynne gulped nervously, but Loose & Lanky stayed cool.
"We're juuuust eliminating any loose ends," he replied.
"No, no, I understand perfectly," the Gentleman turned his back to us and looked wistfully towards a large portrait of an imposing-looking man, similar in appearance to the Gentleman but obviously much older. "I've always known that my family has held certain… reputation. We've gotten so used to having wealth and power that I'm afraid it went a little to our heads. Especially in my father's time…" He sighed as he turned back to face Lynne and Loose & Lanky, "I wouldn't be at all surprised if Mister Charivari's death was an attempt to silence him."
"So what you're saying is," Lynne said with some trepidation, "you wish to cooperate?"
"Yes," said the Gentleman, "it's time I cleaned out the dirty laundry of this family, gave it a fresh start. I want to right the wrongs of the past."
"Well, thank you," Lynne replied. "If you don't mind we would like to start as soon as possible."
"Of course," the Gentleman agreed. "I will inform my family of the situation."
A few minutes later, about two dozen people, over half of them with that distinctive blue hair. Among them was the Gentleman's fiancée, the Pink Prima-Donna. She shared the same look of contempt written across the faces of most of the other deBok family members. They did not seem at all pleased.
"Prater, what the hell is going on?" groaned the Pink Prima-Donna.
"Just cleaning out the skeletons in the family closet, my dear," the Gentleman replied. "I'm afraid it's been long overdue."
"I hope this is all over quickly," sneered a portly fellow in gold-rimmed spectacles. "I was planning to see a performance of I Pagliacci this afternoon!"
"I'm afraid this may take some time, sir," Lynne told him.
"I'm not saying anything without my attorneys present," said a stiff-looking older woman in a classy suit.
"Thaaaat won't be necessary, I assure you," Loose & Lanky told her.
"Of course it's necessary!" snarled the portly bespectacled fellow. "You barge in here uninvited and start asking all these absurd questions! Don't you know who we-?"
"That's quite enough," interpreted the Gentleman. "I'm the head of this household, and you will respect my wishes. And my wish is that you fully cooperate with the officers and answer whatever questions they may ask you. Is that understood?"
Nobody replied, not even the Pink Prima Donna, but it was clear that they were not at all happy with the situation. If the Twister was one of the deBok family, I'd have expected that he'd be squirming right about now. He knew about the powers of the dead, and he knew that we knew about them. But as scanned the deBoks, I came across the same problem I had encountered back at the embassy. Beyond all logic, there was still no sign of Temsik radiation. Were we wasting our time in coming here? That was the logical conclusion, to be sure, but I had the strangest feeling that this was not the case. Why, I don't know. But I had the feeling that we were on the right track, one way or another.
"I do understand that the situation is uncomfortable, to say the very least," the Gentleman continued. "So in a show of good faith, I would like to volunteer myself to be the first to be questioned. Officers?"
"Well, ok then," Lynne chewed nervously on a fingernail. "First off, Mister deBok, I'm sorry to ask you this, but how old would you be, exactly?"
The Gentleman looked a little embarrassed.
Lynne sighed, "I know it's a personal question, but-"
"Twenty-six," said the Gentleman. "Please excuse me for not answering straight away, Detective. I wasn't exactly expecting that."
"So," said Lynne, "you'd have been about sixteen when Kenshin Charivari was killed, right?"
"Yes. Oh, I have photographs if you're interested," the Gentleman took a large leather-bound book from the table and flicked through the pages. "Here."
The book was a album of family photographs, with the open page being a portrait of a younger, adolescent Soft-Spoken Gentleman together with the older wan in the portrait on the wall.
"My father and I," the Gentleman explained. "He passed away last year, sadly."
"Iiiif you wouldn't mind," said Loose & Lanky, "would it be okay if we could get copies of the photographs in this album, as well as any others you might have of the family?"
"Prater," the stiff and classy woman stepped in. "You're not seriously-? Why would they even want-?"
"It's not up to me to decide what will help the police in their investigations," the Gentleman replied curtly. "But I will assist with whatever means necessary, and I insist that you show them the same courtesy."
At this, the Pink Prima-Donna threw back her head and let out a cackle. "That's rich! The cops may have fallen for your ass-kissing, but we sure ain't!"
The Gentleman suddenly looked nervous, "Tarpeia, please…"
"What are you talking about?" Lynne asked.
"Nothing that you need to be concerned about, detective," said the Gentleman hurriedly.
"Bullshit!" sneered the Prima-Dona. "Anyone here noticed that psycho bro of yours ain't shown up yet?"
There were murmurs of agreement from the other members of the deBok family. The Gentleman bit his lip, his posture stiffened.
"Psycho bro?" Loose & Lanky inquired.
The Gentleman rounded on his fiancée, his face showing signs of panic, "You know that Hod is in no shape to-!"
"Well, he's in good enough shape to go out every night and work on that sick little collection of his!"
"Tarpeia!"
"Hey, hey, take it easy!" Lynne said, trying to calm the two down.
"Mind your own business, you bitch!" the Pink Prima Dona howled as she made a grab for Lynne's hair.
Lynne gave a yelp as the Prima Donna yanked hard at her ponytail. Loose & Lanky tried to rush over to pull Lynne free, but he forgot about his missing foot and ended up sprawled on the floor. He was helped back up by one of the household staff while the Soft-Spoken Gentlemen pried his fiancée off from Lynne.
"Lynne!" I called to her. "Lynne, are you alright?"
"I'm fine; I just can't believe the gall of that-! Ugh!" Lynne's teeth were gritted in frustration.
"Lynne baby!" Loose & Lanky struggled to rebalance himself on his crutch. "You alriiiight?"
"The boys back at the precinct better not hear about this, or I'll never live it down…" Lynne replied, and then turned to the Prima-Dona. "And you consider yourself lucky I don't charge you with assault!"
The Prima-Dona responded by spitting on Lynne's badge.
I could see the vain on Lynne's forehead was bulging dangerously, but she took a deep breath and turned to the Gentleman, "May we speak with… Hod, was it? Your brother?"
"Step-brother," the Gentleman replied. "My father's son from a previous marriage. But I'm afraid I can't allow it. He's in extremely poor health and shouldn't be disturbed, and I doubt he would be of much use to your investigation."
"Bullshit," muttered the Prima-Donna.
"Lynne, none of these people is the Twister," I told her. "We have to check out that missing brother!"
"We can't," Lynne replied, "Prater doesn't want us to bother him."
"If I could just get a quick peek," I insisted, "see if he has Temsik radiation!"
"Sissel, this place is huge. You could be looking for him for hours!"
"So I'll come back home over the phone once I'm done."
"You're gonna stay here? In the possible home of a soul-eating sociopath?"
"Trust me."
Lynne thought it over for a moment. "Okay," she said finally, "one quick peek, then you get outta here."
"Right. I won't let you down."
"I know you won't."
I jumped through the furniture as Lynne and Loose & Lanky went back to questioning the deBoks as best they could. Lynne was right – the deBokl home was huge, much bigger than my own home, with numerous rooms all opulently furnished. Apart from a few of the staff, none of whom gave off the Temsik's otherworldly glow, the house was relatively devoid of human activity .I'm not sure how long I spent looking for the Soft-Spoken Gentleman's Brother, but as I did I thought a little about this strange family as I drifted through their home. Aside from their patriarch, the Soft-Spoken Gentlemen, they had to be the most disagreeable bunch of people I'd ever come across, almost on the same level as Toon-Face…
My train of thought was broken when I noticed a strange, blue glow – Temsik radiation! It was weak, but it was there, leaking from a room at the end of a darkened hall. It looked rather neglected, as if whatever – or whoever – was in that room had been put there in order to be forgotten. I could hear someone talking, a man's voice, and the only voice I could hear. Was he talking to himself?
"Well what is this that I can't see, with ice cold hands takin' hold of me…When the Gods are gone and the Devil takes hold, who will have mercy on your soul…"
I was nervous, of course. If I messed up, I would certainly be caught and there was no predicting what mood the Twister would be in. But there was only one way for me to know the truth. I mustered my nerve and slid through the door.
The room was cold and bare, very much unlike the other more luxurious rooms I had encountered. I could see the Temsik radiation coming from the far corner of the room. There wasn't anything for me to posses so I couldn't get any closer, not that I wanted to. Instead, I simply altered my field of vision – another Power of the Dead that I didn't use too often – and saw a figure sitting on a bed in the far corner. It was a man, pale and thin, rocking back and forth on the bed, holding something in his hands that I couldn't quite see. His hair was the same shade of violet-blue as most of the family members, but it was unkempt and messy, falling over his gaunt, hollow face. His clothes were shabby compared to those of his relatives, a faded white sweater with the arms too long and a faded pair of jeans. But most important of all was the blue waves of light radiating from his body. This had to be it! This man had to be the Twister!
With that sorted out, I went to turn back and report to Lynne. But then I noticed just what the Twister was holding in his hand…
A dead, coreless sparrow.
"Well I am Death," he sang softly, stroking the dead bird, "none can excel, I'll open the door to Heaven or Hell… Oh death, someone would pray, would you wait to call on me another day…"
A clock chimed somewhere in the house. The Twister looked up from the bird, his face void of any emotion. He got off the bed and knelt down on the floor, slid a hand underneath the bed and pulled out a box. He opened the box and began sifting through its contents – a collection of dead, rotting reptiles, all without cores.
"Not that one," he muttered, and he shut the box and slid it back under the bed, the sparrow's corpse still in his hands. He pulled out another box and looked through the coreless cadavers of mice and rats. "Wrong again," said the Twister, sliding it back underneath and pulling out a third box. This time, he gave a slight smile as he went lifted the lid and checked inside. More dead birds – crows, pigeons, sparrows, swallows, a falcon or two, all coreless and putrid. He took out the birds to inspect them, stroking them and whispering to them. Finally, he replaced the birds back in their box, and took the little sparrow, placing it gently inside the box with them.
"And now I lay me down to sleep," he muttered, "pray the Gods my soul to keep." He got back on the bed, laying down as if to rest, "And if I die before I wake, pray the Gods my soul to take…"
I had seen enough. Clearly this man, the Twister, was all and out bonkers. I had seen it already at the murder scenes, at the market and with Loose & Lanky's hostage crisis, but this was… well, I just wanted to get the hell out of there!
I turned to head out the door, and nearly ran into a slimy, writhing lump of a soul. I would've jumped out of my skin if I've had my body with me. How did he get behind me, with barely anything in this room?
I had no time to time about this, as the Twister's soul reached out one of its hideous black tentacles towards me. I had nowhere to run, I was certain I was done for. But instead, I was whisked into the World of the Dead, and found myself, for the first time, talking with the Twister directly. Strangely, his face was not the human face I had seen just now, but his mask, or a variation of it, anyway. The burlap sacking had transformed into a scaly skin, and the zipper mouth was a set of razor-sharp iron teeth.
There was a tense silence for a moment or two.
Finally the Twister spoke, but to my alarm he was not in his usual playful mood. "What is this?" he said in a demanding tone. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
"Well, I uh…" I stammered. "I'm, uh…"
The mouth of teeth stretched open threateningly, and a long, oily tongue lashed out. "You mean to tell me that all this time I've been matching wits with A FUCKING CAT?" he roared.
Before I could reply, his long dreadlocks flew out and wrapped themselves around me. One strand wrapped itself around my neck, squeezing tightly. It was the most horrible feeling, the strands were cold and clammy, and if I hadn't known any better I would say that I was truly being strangulated and was gasping just to breathe, because that's just what it felt like. With horror I realised that the Twister was done playing games and was planning on outright devouring me.
"N-no!" I cried out in panic. "If you eat me, y-you'll never find him!"
Thankfully, the Twister loosed his grip enough for me to 'breathe', but not enough for me to actually be free. "Find who?" he asked.
I felt the guilt, the revulsion surge up inside of me. I couldn't believe I was doing this, but I had to buy time, to get back to Lynne and the others. "K-Kenshin Charivari," I replied weakly. "He's the one you want… right?"
There were a few horrible moments of silence as the Twister kept his grip on me. Then, he threw back his head and began to laugh.
"Kenshin Charivari!" he barked. "You mean to tell me-? Oh, that's a gas! Hahahaha HA!"
The Twister's sudden change of mood did not comfort me in the least. His reaction at the mention of Toon-Face's name seemed off somehow, as if he hadn't quite expected it.
"Hahaha… fine then, you can get lost," the Twister chuckled as he let me loose. "I suppose you'll be reporting back to the piggies now you've got a good squiz of that meatbag on the bed."
I was back in the world of the living, and to my relief the Twister's vile ghost backed out the door, unblocking my path. I wasted no time in getting out of that room and as far away from the Twister as I possibly could.
"Oh, and one more thing," the Twister called out after me as I fled down the hall, "do remember say hello to 'Mister Charivari' for me next time you see him, hmm?"
I didn't bother with a reply as I jumped into the nearest phone and made a beeline for home.
The Good Detective called Lynne to let her know I was alright. Well, I can't really say I was completely alright; I was so shaken by my latest encounter with the Twister that I insisted on sleeping on the end of the Little Lady's instead of my basket. I just wanted to be near someone I knew and trusted, somewhere safe. Making things worse was the guilt – selling out Toon-Face, running like a coward from the house without letting Lynne know I was alright. Suddenly I could see why Toon-Face was so eager to keep quiet.
I half-expected Lynne to be mad with me when I pooped down the phone line to visit her the next day, but as it turned out she had been expecting the same reaction from me.
"Sorry I left you at the haunted mansion," she said. "But once we finished up with the questioning, we couldn't stick around."
"Was I really searching that long?" I asked.
"Yeah, you missed all the fun," Lynne replied. "I caught one guy with a stash of unmarked diamonds, so he tried to bribe me. Well, I told him he could go to hell, so then his wife tried to butter up Cabanela, if you know what I mean. Too bad for them, he doesn't roll that way. We had to arrest them both."
"Geez, what a bunch! Why do you think they're all like that, anyway?"
"Too much money and too much power," Lynne sighed. "They're too used to having everything their way."
"Well, hopefully with that Prater fellow in charge," said I, "that may change."
"Hmm, I dunno," Lynne said doubtfully. "He's marrying that psycho chick, so you have to wonder. But we're getting off track here. Did you find Hod?"
I told Lynne that I had, and of my encounter with the Twister. She grimaced as I recounted the episode of the collection of dead, coreless animals hidden under the bed, and I she was quite alarmed when I told her how close I came to never coming back.
"He grabbed you?" Lynne gasped. "How did you escape?"
"I didn't really," I said awkwardly. "He let me go because… because…"
"Why?" Lynne asked nervously.
I gulped, "Because promised him Toon-Face."
Lynne's eyes grew wide, "You did what?"
"I know, I know! But I didn't know what else to do!"
Lynne shook her head, "Hey, I can't say I blame you, little buddy. I would've sold out my own dear mother to get away from that creep!"
"I can still feel those tentacles of his – ugh!" I shuddered. "But at least now we know for certain that the Twister is Hod."
"Yeah, true. He's not at all how I pictured him, though."
"Oh? How so?"
"Well," Lynne said thoughtfully, "from the Twister's behaviour so far, we can gather he's very intelligent. He'd fit in to normal society, look and act just like a normal person. No-one close to him would ever have any clue that he's a complete psycho who kills people for giggles. Hod is most definitely unhinged, and perhaps even potentially dangerous, but not in the same way the Twister is."
"But I saw the radiation!" I protested. "No one else in that house had it!"
Lynne was silent for a moment as she gave the matter some thought. "Then he could be faking it," she said. "Everyone thinks he's a harmless idiot and no one ever imagines that he has the cunning and foresight to pull off such audacious murders. And if he does get arrested, he could always go for the insanity plea. But this is only conjecture," Lynne shifted in her seat, "the only way to know for sure is to put a tail on Hod deBok, have someone watch the house and hopefully try and catch him in the act." She sighed, "But with all this freaky supernatural stuff going on I'm not at all sure how we're gonna take him down."
"We'd have to remove his Temsik fragment," I explained. "Then I'll be able to go back to before his death and make it that all of this never happened. Of course, it isn't that simple…"
"You'd have to get in the Twister's body without being eaten," said Lynne. "Yeesh, it's like that old story of the mice who wanted to bell the cat!"
"Well, I did promise him Toon-Face," I said, "so perhaps we could use him as bait to lure the Twister out from his body, but…"
"A, Toon-Face is missing, and b, neither him nor Rennie are gonna like that idea very much," Lynne finished, giving a shrug. "Not that I have any better ideas, though. Mind if I take a break? I could do with a coffee."
"Sure."
I broke the connection and we returned to the World of the Living, but Lynne never did get her coffee. The phone rang, and of course Lynne had to answer it.
"Lynne speaking? Oh, good afternoon Chief, how are yo-? What?"
Uh-oh. That didn't sound good.
"Dear Gods. I'll be there right away, sir!" Lynne slammed down the phone and went for her coat. "Sissel, you still there?"
"I'm here," I told her. "What's wrong?"
"Someone tried to steal the Temsik meteor again," she explained. "but it's worse this time – the guy's got a gun, and he's taken the Professor hostage!"