The Cries of the Butterfly - A LOVE STORY (42 page)

He had spent a full day and night here not so long ago and it had been okay. But then he had Rochelle with him. He missed her terribly now. More than he had thought possible. He missed her strength and support—the mere comfort of her proximity.

And he missed Dad. Oh, he missed him like hell. Seeing him this morning had sent his heart weeping with longing. And he missed his house, and especially his room. He missed everything so badly that…

A sudden rustle somewhere outside made him sit up sharply. He stared out the bedroom windows, but saw nothing. He waited for a fearful moment, then got up gingerly and hastily shut the windows.

Rushing back to his bed, he quickly laid down and pulled the blanket over him, huddling inside it, covering himself to his eyes. And he began to breathe again.

Hell, this house is so freaking strange!

Then the doorbell rang, and his heart cramped up.

The bell rang again and Wolf realized he had begun to sweat. He could hear the rapid knocking of his heart against his ribs.

Who the fuck could it be at this time of the night?
If only I had got Rochelle with me, if only for this first night.
She had said as much:
you cannot do without me, boy…
Wolf looked around the skimpy semi-dark room. His eyes fell on a worn-out baseball bat in one corner. But did he have the balls to even get out of bed again?

What should I do?
…should he just ignore the bell and hope the caller eventually went away? But instinct told him that wasn’t going to happen: whoever it was outside seemed determined they be answered.

Then the bell rang for the third time.

Flushing with sudden anger, Wolf leapt to his feet.
Fuck you!

He picked up the wooden bat and felt some dare creep into his veins. Very cautiously, he went out into the living room and crept to the main door. Perhaps it was just a ‘wrong number’. He hurriedly pulled out his handkerchief and tied it around his face, all but the eyes. Then, all his vital organs in tense readiness, he opened the door, an inch at first, then another inch, and finally a foot, the baseball bat primed above his head, ready to dispatch.

A thin middle-aged man with gray receding hair stood before him.

“Mr. Wolf?”

Something began to churn in Wolf’s belly. He recognized this guy from somewhere—there was a vague familiarity to him.

And then Wolf’s eyes went very large. A shaft of fear stabbed him and the baseball bat dropped from his hand. Simultaneously, the handkerchief from around his face came loose and sunk to the floor.

THE
man’s eyes were sunk in their sockets and held a haunted look. The face was pinched and tired and he wore a week-old stubble on his chin.

“Mr. Butcher…it…it’s me…” His voice was pale and strained. He tried to smile, but it didn’t come off. Instead, it made him look even more wretched.

What the hell are you doing here!
Wolf was stunned. “You escaped from prison?” he whipped, his hands turning to fists.

“No, no, sir… They let me out on parole,” the small voice answered.

“Parole?” Wolf said incredulously.
How can they fucking parole you!
Anger surged in him sharply, just seeing this man standing there before him so shamelessly, so alive and free. “How did they fucking parole you?!” he demanded.

“Only for three days, sir.” His eyes were piteous. “My…my wife died yesterday, sir. They released me so I could bury her.”

The air phussed out of Wolf instantly. He sighed and lowered his head. He had never seen the guy’s wife, or any of his family, yet… In spite of himself, he said, “Come in.”

The man climbed the steps, then hesitated at the doorway.

Wolf pointed to a chair.

Somehow the fellow made it, simperingly lowering his butt on the edge of the seat.

“How did you find me?” Wolf asked.

“I…I…saw you…sir…two hours ago…the jeep…when you arrived, sir…” There was tremor in his voice.

“Saw me?”

“I live…nearby…sir…”

“Why did you come here? What do you want?” Wolf demanded, staring at the murderer of Philippa, the murderer who had killed half his family. Now that the first flush of pity had passed, fresh fury heaved.

Stanley Knott glanced at Wolf Butcher and trembled. He shook his head weakly.

“No…nothing, sir…I want nothing… Just saw you, so…came…” He stood up.

Wolf inhaled deeply. “Oh, sit down…sit!” Just looking at his dismal face made Wolf feel for the rotten bastard again. “What happened to your wife?”

“She had tuberculosis, sir.”

Tuberculosis in New Halcyon?
He’d never heard of such a case in this country. “I’m sorry.”

An awkward silence fell. Wolf knew he should be burning with rage, he should want to kill the hideous son-of-a-bitch, he should want to chop his flesh to bits and toss them to the eagles and the ravens and the stray dogs.

Instead, he found himself say, “Who else is there in your family?”

“I have four daughters, sir.”

“Four? Who else?”

“No one else, sir.”

“How old are your daughters?”

“Sir…Melanie is twelve, Minee is nine, Rosemary is five, and Tina is one and a half, sir.”

“Who looks after them now?”

“Me, sir.”

“You’ll be back in prison in two days. Who then?”

Knott looked down. “No…no one…sir…”

“What do you mean
no one!
There must be someone…some relative…”

“No, sir…there is no one…”

“What about the neighbors? Friends?”

“No one, sir. They all cut off relations with my family after the…the…inci…dent, sir.” His head hung in shame and disgrace.

“So who is going to look after them now on? Who is going to feed your daughters?”

“They’ll feed themselves, sir. Melanie and Minee will start work as housemaids tomorrow, sir. Rosemary will stay home and look after Tina.”

Wolf was shocked. “What!”
At the age of twelve and nine your older daughters will do hard labor? They aren’t even teenagers yet! And your third one is just five!

Knott’s eyes misted. A pain swept across his face.

Wolf leaned forward. “Aren’t you fucking ashamed of yourself making your babies perform hard toil at this age? And do you know it is fucking illegal? You’re going to fucking commit more crimes now?”

Knott gave him a fearful glance. Then in a barely audible whisper, he muttered, “What can I do, sir?” He looked down at his frayed shoes.

Suddenly, Wolf leapt out of his chair. He dove on the man and grabbed him by the throat. For an instant, he held him up in the air with his immense strength, then flung him hard against the wall. He jumped on him and seized his throat again.

“You fucking murderer! You fucked-up insect…you pathetic piece of shit! How many more people are you going to kill before you are satiated, you son-of-a-whore! You killed my daughter and my family. You should’ve died with them, but you didn’t even get a fucking scratch. What justice is this? And now you’re going to kill your own girls? What sort of a piece of rotten fuck are you?”

His stranglehold on the man’s neck was so severe, Knott’s eyes bulged hysterically and the tip of his tongue stuck out between his teeth. He couldn’t even cough.

Wolf was shaking violently. As a fresh swell of fury slapped his brain, he rammed his skull against Knott’s. His mouth was working furiously, but no words came out anymore. Perhaps just as well, for they were unspeakable—inhuman and gross beyond words.

But Knott did not protest. He did not try to protect himself. Then as nausea rushed to his head, he began to throw up. With his mouth blocked, vomit spewed out furiously through his nose and sprayed his assailant’s gear. And then darkness engulfed his brain and he went limp.

.

“
T
hanks for coming, Keith,” Wolf said as Keith McKenzie lowered his lean butt on a chair. “I’m afraid it’s not much of a place and I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything…besides some water.”

Keith McKenzie looked around him, his face disbelieving. The little living room had but four tubular chairs and a foldable wooden table. Nothing else besides.

Wolf laughed wearily. “Okay, cut it out, Keith!” he snapped mildly. “This is an emergency. I told you so on the phone.”

“Yes…but nothing like this. May the world be cursed! Whose place is this anyway?”

“A friend’s,” Wolf said. “I’m sure you’re totally aware of my story?”

Keith McKenzie nodded gravely. “Who in this whole cursed world isn’t?”

Wolf regarded the man before him for a moment. McKenzie was in his mid-forties and a neat composite of bones and skin—a pinch over six feet ten and no more than a hundred-thirty lbs. He was bald and had a flourishing harvest of glistening black hair poking proudly out from both his ears. His face was thin and long and he wore thick round rimless glasses over unblinking gray eyes, which inspired both confidence and creepiness, depending on which side of him you were on. Keith McKenzie had been the Butcher family lawyer once, but no longer. Eventually, confidence had been substituted with creepiness and he had gone out of favor.

“So how come the Butchers need me once more?” McKenzie said. There was just a hint of tang in his voice.

“Not the Butchers…just me.”

“Oh, there’s a chink in the armor of the indestructible family, I see. May the world be cursed.”

Wolf’s eyes hardened.

McKenzie put his hand up. “Easy! I didn’t mean it that way. So how can I help you?”

Wolf inhaled. “I want custody of Robin. You’ve heard of her, I presume.”

“The whole cursed world has,” he nodded grimly. “But what’s the difficulty? Hasn’t your uncle said…”

“I want to marry Savannah—I guess you’ve heard of her too—and adopt Robin as well.”

“Eat your apple and the peel with it too, uh?” he smiled impishly.

Wolf nodded seriously. He was in no mood for cheap humor. “Can I do it?”

McKenzie thought for a while. “You want to go after your uncle?”

Dad, not uncle, asshole
. “After Ian Cass. He’s the chief of the National Adoption Board. He’s holding it up.”

“But it’s at your uncle’s bidding. If President Butcher
really
wanted, Ian Cass, or anyone else, wouldn’t dare stand in his way.”

“No, Cass would; he is that type. He has a major affliction of morality-diarrhea. The man’s extreme sense of principles sickens me. There’s something called being too moral for one’s own good and this guy is that fucking specimen.”

“Don’t forget, Cass is also the chief judge of the nation. That makes him doubly powerful. Plus, together with your uncle, he’s the most respected man in the country. Now that makes him infinitely more potent.”

“Do you mean to say I cannot challenge his NAB judgments in a court of law just because he’s also the chief judge? Is Cass then above question?”

“Definitely not. In a democracy no one is. But on what basis would you dispute him?” McKenzie sought.

“Isn’t it obvious? That he’s a top-grade bigot masquerading as a moralist? That his judgments are often based on his personal prejudices rather than calm reasoning?” Wolf shot.

“Yes, on paper you can challenge him. But even if you do, you don’t stand a chance.”

“Why?” Wolf demanded hotly.

“For all the reasons I’ve just elucidated,” McKenzie said. “The whole cursed world is in support of Ian Cass, Wolf. And the whole cursed world is against you. You’ve seen that first hand. Given that, do you think any judge would dare rule against Cass, especially when he also happens to be their big boss?”

“So where does that leave me? What’s the use of doing anything at all if Cass holds all the fucking cards? I’m screwed anyway.”

“Don’t be so gloomy. There’s always some way out, some opening. You just need to be a wee patient. And a little bit clever.”

“Okay?”

“Somehow we need to discredit Cass. We need to show the whole cursed world that he is not, after all, the principled man everyone thinks he is…that hidden behind the mask lurks a devil. If we can someway manage that, then we can change the rules of the game and go charging after his balls.” Then McKenzie threw up his hands. “But frankly, right now, I don’t see how we can accomplish that. The moral armor is too firmly in place and I don’t see any chink in it. At the moment, there’s little we can do.”

Wolf smiled sarcastically. “Great. Just what I need to hear from my lawyer.”

“I’m an attorney, Wolf, not a conjurer. As a lawyer, let me be honest and add this: you have absolutely no chance of getting this girl, Robin, if you continue to be adamant about this…this, what’s her name…woman.”

“Savannah Burns. That’s her name, McKenzie!”

“Yeah, yeah.” McKenzie hesitated for a moment. “May I ask you something?”

No, you may not.
But he raised his eyebrow
.