Author'snoteIdonotownPokemonorrelat edtrademarkslanguageadultcon tentandviolentcontentwarning becausenowthisstoryisgoingto getreallyreallyinsaneWAAAAAA AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!
And apologies to anyone who is offended at all by what gets discussed in this chapter. I mean it:
Tristan propped himself up on his broad elbows and fixed Frank with a confused look as the human sprang off of the bed as best as he could and searched frantically for his pants and underwear. "What's the matter?"
"Where are my pants? I need to find my phone!"
"Frank, is something wrong?" asked Victoria, a worried look on her face.
Frank didn't reply. Instead, he found his pants and dove into the pockets, pulling out his phone and quickly dialing a number. He waited, then: "Commissioner, it's Detective Caldwell. I need an arrest warrant immediately."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," was the reply on the other end. "Slow down. What's going on?"
"I know who our killer is."
"Why don't you just get over and SHOW me what you're talking about?"
"Right, I'll get Agents Stillwater and O'Meara and be right there."
He hung up and turned towards the bed. Tristan was already searching for his clothes while Victoria was in the bathroom desperately trying to wash the semen from her face. "I see you didn't wait for me to explain," he remarked.
"The moment you mentioned who you were calling, I had a hunch we were needed," Tristan answered as he started to hastily push his belt back through the loops on his pants.
The three marched right over to the entrance to police headquarters. No sooner were they inside than the commissioner, Hopfmar, and Stuart strode up to them. "So what's going on?" Commissioner Steele asked.
"I'll show you," said Frank, running up the stairs. Tristan and the commissioner were barely able to keep up. Hopfmar followed behind, with Stuart and Victoria taking up the rear. Stuart looked at the Gardevoir and found himself staring at something.
"Uh, Agent Stillwater," he said in a low tone, "there seems to be something, uh, white in your hair-"
Victoria quickly reached for a tissue from inside her pants pockets and wiped her hair with it. She then shot a stern glare to the human before quickening her pace, leaving him behind.
"Was it something I said?" he asked, not expecting any sort of answer.
Frank worked as fast as he could with one arm, sticking photos and papers to a board using magnets. He then pointed to the photos of Maude Wikstrom. "What do you see here?"
"Hanging victim, possible suicide," Hopfmar answered.
"But, what direction is the twist in the knot going?"
"Left-handed knot," Alex, who had been alerted by Hopfmar about the incoming storm, replied.
"Exactly. Now look at the birth certificates for her two sons. Notice something about the signatures?"
"Hers are right-handed," Stuart offered.
"Exactly. Notice this bruise on the side of her head?"
"I think we get the point," the commissioner interrupted, "but what does this have to do with the other cases?"
Frank pointed to the photos of Dave Wikstrom. "See the similarities? That shot was either fired at an awkward angle by a man who was not left-handed-" Here he pointed at Jeremy's birth certificate. "-Or he was murdered by someone who was."
"I think I know who you're talking about," Tristan stated.
"Harvey Wikstrom. Exactly."
"Just a sec, let me see if he has any gun records," Alex got out as he ran to his computer.
"All right, explain," Steele requested.
"There are only two suspects who would know the precise routine of the Wikstrom family. And Esteban Soriano is right-handed."
"That's great, but what about motive? With no motive, you're not likely to get a damn thing out of a judge."
"The only thing I can come up with is that he knew my father was on his trail and decided to kill him to try to put an end to the investigation."
"But that only covers your father."
"That's all we need, isn't it?"
As if on cue, Alex came floating over. "Sure enough, Harvey Wikstrom has a .22 caliber pistol, and has had it registered since 1983. Same caliber as the bullets used in his brother's death as well as your dad's, Frank."
The commissioner stood up. "It's flimsy, Caldwell. But I'm making a call. Hopefully it's not wasted."
Much to her surprise, the warrant came.
And thus it was that most of the Saffron police force along with the two Pokebureau agents soon found themselves speeding through the night to the residence of Harvey Wikstrom.
Frank was silent and stern as he rode in the back of the SWAT van, a bulletproof vest somehow worked around his neck brace and sling. Stuart, Victoria, and Tristan could not help but feel concerned just watching him.
The van came to a stop, and the SWAT team leader turned to them all. "We're here, Detective Caldwell. How do you want to proceed?"
"Treat him as armed and dangerous," Frank said, his voice barely audible.
"Right. Everybody out!"
Two of the other SWAT members grabbed assault rifles and exited the van. Frank hesitated a moment, then grabbed a single-barrel pump-action twelve-gauge shotgun. Victoria, who had grabbed a recording device on a hunch that it may come in useful, gasped. "A twelve-gauge, Frank? Isn't that a bit much?"
Frank refused to answer, jumping out of the van and carefully running up to the door with the others. He then looked at the SWAT leader and held up three fingers, then reduced the number to two, then one, then pointed at the door.
Moments later, the door imploded. "SAFFRON P.D.!" shouted the team leader as the rest of the team along with Frank, Stuart, and the two Pokebureau agents surged in.
A search of the house, however, turned up empty.
"He's not here, Frank," Stuart said after they were finished.
"Didn't he say something yesterday about there being another property in the family?" Tristan offered.
Frank pulled out his phone without saying a word in reply. "Alex, see if there are any other properties registered to Harvey Wikstrom."
"No problem, just give me a sec to rapidly type and pint and click and all that fun crap and well here you go, Frank. He has an old farmstead at W7562 Suoh Road."
Frank hung up without another word. "W7562 SUOH ROAD, LET'S GO!" he yelled as he stormed towards the van.
Victoria ran to catch up and put her hand on his arm. "Frank, I know the man probably killed your father, but you can't let your anger cloud your judgment like this."
"I want him brought in alive, Victoria. I want to look into that motherfucker's eyes and know why he killed my father before I could even remember him."
"But, Frank-"
Frank walked faster than ever, opening the door of the van and getting back in.
Frank knew as soon as he saw a car in the driveway of the farmstead that they had him.
As the combined forces of the various law enforcement branches began to swarm towards the house, he looked around him to get a visual feel for the surroundings. There were several dilapidated outbuildings, dull with neglect and age. An old barn stood on a slope, one of those old types where they would pull the wagons full of loose, dry hay into the upper level and use giant forks to move the hay into a loft above. The floor, however, seemed bare from a distance, except for a thin dusting of snow. He thought he saw a large wooden beam hanging from the rafters, but he wasn't sure.
The house, small, was in not much better condition than the rest of the buildings, and the SWAT team leader barely had to touch it for it to crash to the floor. They rushed in again, Frank at the rear.
As they searched, Tristan noticed that there was a back entrance, and the door was blowing slightly in the wind. Gun drawn, he carefully exited, having to withstand a drop of about a foot and a half as the stairs that were there once were gone.
And then he heard the sounds of snowbound scrambling, and as he turned, he saw Harvey Wikstrom stumbling through the snow towards the barn. Tristan took off in pursuit, gun raised, but Harvey spun around and fired a shot of his own.
SHIT!
The Gallade felt a sharp pain in his left arm as he collapsed. He dropped his Glock instinctively and put his hand over the site of the pain, then withdrew his hand.
Blood. The fucker shot me in the arm.
"Oh my god, Tristan, are you all right?!" yelled Victoria as she rushed to the sound of the shot.
"Yeah, I'll be fine, it's just my arm. He went to the barn. BE CAREFUL!" he added as she ran off.
Wikstrom had had a headstart but Victoria was much lighter on her feet, and she soon started to close the gap as they both started running uphill. He got there first and fired another shot, forcing her to duck behind the wall. She could feel the impact of bullet on wood but did not hesitate to return to her pursuit. Wikstrom began climbing a ladder that led to one half of the loft. Victoria, however, spotted a hole in the sidewall, and, taking a running start, she leapt, pushed off on the hole, and virtually launched herself to the loft.
She landed on old hay, which was so brown and moldy that it had to have been many years old. She got to her feet and, remembering her recording device, quickly checked to see if it was on. It was.
She looked up again just in time to see Wikstrom finish climbing and point the gun at her. "Well," he began, a desperate look in his eyes, "since we're alone, how about I tell you a little story about two boys growing up on a farm in the old days with a mentally disturbed mother?"
Sweet Arceus in heaven, she thought ruefully, why do I ALWAYS get stuck with the weirdos?
As soon as Frank heard the gunshot he bolted for the back door, keeping the twelve-gauge as steady as he could as he flew outside and hit the snow running. He turned as he landed and, after almost losing his balance for a brief moment, ran as fast as he could, SWAT team members behind him.
Tristan heard the landing and waved with his good arm. "FRANK, I'M OVER HERE!" he yelled.
Frank charged through the snow and seconds later was kneeling down next to the wounded Gallade. "Hold on, man, we're gonna get you some help-"
"He's in the barn, Frank. Victoria went after him. I'll be fine, just be careful going in there!"
Frank turned to the SWAT leader. "Is there a bus on the way?"
"We got one on standby," replied the man.
"Good, call it in, then follow behind me. Stuart, you're coming with me, but hang back on the way and stay outside the barn. The rest of you, wait until they get Agent O'Meara out of here safely."
With that, Frank was off. Stuart counted to three, then followed.
"Now, my father, we didn't know him for long," Harvey was saying, waving his gun around but occasionally steadying his aim at Victoria, who had her own gun raised. "He died in a factory accident when we were little. So it was just us and our mother.
"Now everything was just fine until I was about fourteen, fifteen and he was eleven, twelve, something like that, my memory is still just a tad bit fuzzy. I don't know if you noticed when you went through there, but in that old house, the bathroom is right across from my old bedroom upstairs. And my bedroom was next to his. Well, nothing out of the ordinary ever happened, until one day, Dave was taking a bath, and I was sitting on my bed, just reading some comic books. I hear a knock from the hallway, and our mother is like, 'May I come in, Davey?' And then she just opens the door, we never kept it locked, and she goes in. I didn't think much of it then. Hell, all I wanted to do was read my comic books.
"But then it happened again about two weeks or so later. Again, I didn't think much of it, at least at first. But then I start hearing strange noises. I had never heard noises like those before. So I sneak out of my room and go to the door, just to listen, like. And I hear her saying things like, 'Ooh, that's so good, do you know how much Mommy likes it when you touch her there? She likes it a lot.' I don't have a damned clue what she's talking about or what's going on, so I just real careful bend my head down so I can see through the keyhole, and…."
He stopped a moment to wipe his head with the hand that still held the gun, causing Victoria, who had a sinking feeling she knew where this was going, to tense up and tighten her focus down the barrel of the Glock.
"She was sitting on the toilet, lid down, and she was naked as a Zapdos, and she had her legs spread out, and she was having him-" He winced at the memory. "-TOUCH her there. And I didn't even know what to say.
"Maybe if I had said something, you and I wouldn't be standing here with guns pointed at each other and other men with guns running around wanting to kill me. But I didn't. I'm ashamed to admit that a part of me enjoyed seeing it. Maybe that's normal, maybe it's not, I'm no fucking shrink. But I didn't know then that that sort of thing was illegal, really. But what the hell is some biologically messed up teenager who is just starting to learn some things about sex himself supposed to do, really?"
Good Lord, this whole family is fucked up, Victoria thought.
"Except it didn't stop then. It started happening once a week, then once every couple days, then every single day, then much of the time when we kids were home. A day rarely went by when she wasn't using my brother to get off. And you want to know something, Agent? A part of me was repulsed. She was our MOTHER, for god's sake! But a part of me was upset because IT WASN'T ME SHE WAS FUCKING! That's right, she was fucking MY BROTHER, HER SON!"
He started to choke up, his hand shaking as he held the gun, still aiming it at Victoria, who was growing more and more uneasy by the second. "It went on for about a year or two. I never said anything, I mean, who could I tell? And she always told him never to tell anyone, or all their 'special time' would be taken away.
"Finally, I got up the balls to confront her about it. She was in the kitchen, and she had just got done sitting on the floor, messing it up because she stuck a goddamned wooden spoon in herself because Dave went to summer camp with his friends so he wasn't there to cater to her. And she's sitting on the floor, calling out his name, and when she was done, she got up and put the spoon in the sink, and then she saw me. 'Oh Harvey, I didn't see you there.' 'Why, Mom? Why are you doing this to him?' 'Harvey, your mother has needs, but she can't just go out and marry somebody for that, it's too soon.' 'Mom, our dad has been dead for years! Why can't you move on?' 'I don't want people to talk!' 'Well, what if I start telling people what you do to my brother?'
"'I know it's not the right thing to do to him, but I-' 'HE'S MY BROTHER, MOM! YOUR SON! CAN'T YOU SEE WHAT YOU'RE DOING TO US?'
"And then she said it. 'It's because it's not you, isn't it? You're just mad because it isn't you!'
"I couldn't bear to hear anymore. I wanted to shut her up, maybe warn her that I'd go to the police. So I reached out and I grabbed a pot off the stove and… I HIT her…."
He started sobbing. "I only wanted to make her stop, but she hit the floor and there was blood all over the place and she was convulsing, and all she could do was say, 'Please help me.' Just that. She was crying, I don't know. Then she stopped.
"I freaked out. I grabbed a rope, tied a knot, wrote a fake note, tied her to the rod in her closet, and let go. And then I turned and ran. I cleaned all the blood up from the floor, but then my brother walked in and saw me cleaning the pot and he ran and found her and he knew. I begged him not to say anything, that I was trying to help him, that she wasn't healthy, that she was messing him up. And for years, he was quiet. We never said anything."
Frank silently crept up the hill, then as he reached the entrance of the barn, he turned and motioned for Stuart and the SWAT team leader to stop. Then he went inside.
He could hear Harvey Wikstrom talking, so he took advantage by quickly yet quietly moving towards the ladder. Placing the shotgun carefully inside his sling, he began to climb, using his left arm to pull himself along.
"But then, in '85, he began talking about selling the place. Great. I had no problem with that. But then he started talking about our mother again, saying he felt insecure around Angela, like what Mom did to him screwed him up. Said he wanted to see a therapist.
"I said, 'Goddamnit, Dave, you know what's gonna happen? They're gonna ask for every little detail, and if you tell them, I'll go to jail, and they'll probably say you're an unfit parent and they'll take your kid from you!'
"'But I can't keep acting like none of it happened, Harv. It did.'
"So one night, I decided to scare him into shutting up. I broke in the house while they were asleep and I took Jeremy. I figured I'd keep him a while, let Dave worry, then give him back and say shut up.
"But Jeremy's death, that was an accident. Crib death. I had him in his crib and went to sleep for the night on the second day, and when I woke up he was dead. I panicked again. I knew that it was going to look like I killed him myself, so I decided to hide the evidence. And yes, I set him on fire. And yes, he was dead before I did that.
"And then the police started crawling around, and that one detective was starting to worry me. He was starting to dig around. I knew he had nothing, but I wanted to make sure it stayed that way. So one night, I waited until he left work, then I just walked up to him and shot him.
"All was quiet for a week or two, then I went over to see Dave, who I thought didn't have a clue what happened. I knock on the door, and he answers like, 'What the fuck do you want?'
"I told him I wanted to see how he was holding up, and he says, 'Bullshit! I know it was you who took him, Harvey! You think I'm going to stay quiet about what you did to our mother after this?'
"I noticed he had a gun on the table. I guess he had gotten paranoid after the kidnapping, so he got one. Anyway, I picked it up and stuck it in his face and told him to shut the fuck up.
"'Or what? You'll call the cops? That'd put YOU in prison, Harvey, and you'd DESERVE it!'
"I couldn't take anymore. I shot him on the spot, then I wrote a fake note, dropped it, then stuck the gun in his hand and shot into a pillow so he'd have gunpowder on his hands and I'd be free."
He laughed, putting the gun to his face again. Then he stopped and pointed it at Victoria again. "Oh well, thus is the sad story of the Wikstrom family. Too bad the only ones now who know the whole story are you and me."
"And me," said a voice behind him.
"Huh?"
Harvey turned and saw Frank standing in the loft.
As he turned, Victoria fired, the bullet lodging in Wikstrom's elbow and causing him to drop the gun.
At the same time, Frank raised the shotgun and shot one of the ropes holding the beam over Wikstrom's head.
The rope snapped, causing the beam to swing down and smack Harvey, sending him flying from the loft to the floor below. There was a sickening set of cracks, followed by agonized, frantic screaming as the other rope snapped, causing the beam to fall and land on the loft with a crash.
The detective and the shiny Gardevoir lowered their guns. "Are you all right?" Frank asked her.
"Yeah, I'm fine. You?"
"Meh, just remind me to never climb a ladder one-handed again."
"I got him recorded, by the way."
"Good thinking."
Hearing the shots, Stuart and the SWAT team leader ran inside just in time to see the beam fall. Stuart looked up at Frank, horrified.
"Was that excessive?" Frank asked.
"Shit, you THINK?!"
Frank turned to Victoria. "That was excessive, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, that was pretty excessive."