The Paladin (30 page)

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Authors: Ken Newman

Tags: #Kill Boy, #The Paladin, #Ken Newman, #Hell Boy

BOOK: The Paladin
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"Don't worry, Silas. Our son will know that you were a hero and he will be proud to call you father."

Maggie entered the cabin and retrieved Kali. On the way out, she saw the pendant Silas had given her, now blacked and scorched. She slid the keepsake into her pocket and wiped the tears from her face. Collecting the vessel, she took the Mercedes and drove away.

 

 

45

 

As Maggie disappeared down the drive, Pastor Mills appeared next to Brenda's body.

"Good girl, Brenda," Larry said, as he dropped the illusion. "I am sorry for what I did, but it had to be. I need Maggie. The entire world is in your debt, Brenda Mills, and so am I."

Larry lifted his arm and curled his fingers as if he held a cell phone. Clearing his throat, he jabbed the air three times. A voice issued from his imaginary phone.

"911. What is your emergency?" asked the operator in a cold, clinical voice.

"Oh God, please help me! They're trying to kill me and my boyfriend…please help us!" he said in a perfect copy of Brenda's voice.

"Calm down miss, now where are you?"

"1267 Bogard Lane. Oh God, hurry…"

"Response is on the way. Please stay on the line."

Larry extended his thumb and forefinger into the air. He pulled his finger back and the operator flinched at the deafening report. Wiping his hands together, he ended the performance.

"Damn, I am good."

"Help…me…"

Larry looked back at Zack.

"Please…help me," Zack gasped.

Larry squatted down before Zack's ruined form.

"Son, you look like shit."

"Help me."

"What would you give for a little help?"

Zack closed his eyes and tried to wipe the bloody spittle from his mouth.

"I don't want to die; I'll do anything you want."

Larry smiled and said, "Just the attitude I like to hear."

 

46

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you will take your seats we will get started," said Sheriff David Holtz. "I'm sorry about the racket but it seems that old man Beck won't go easy."

Several reporters laughed. Just outside the window, in the courtyard of the Bryson City Center, a work crew worked at removing the statue of John Beck from its stubborn base. The statue of the Angel of Bryson City that had stood for two decades had been sold for scrap. The Bryson City fathers wished the stain of his legacy could be as easily removed from their city.

The sheriff took the podium, arranged his notes, and readied his presentation.

"What is going in its place, sheriff?"

"The city council has purchased a nice Liberty Bell," he said. "Should be in sometime next week."

"Sheriff Holtz, where was the evidence found?"

"I will get to that shortly," he said. "As you know, officers responding to a 911 emergency call at 1267 Bogard Lane, found the bodies of six people. During the investigation, officers came across evidence that closed the book on the Beck murder investigation and cleared up a case that has haunted this town for the last sixty-nine years as well."

The room lights dimmed and a wall projector came to life.

Harold White sat at a kitchen table looking at a small remote. A tall glass of water stood before him.

"Good morning," he said cheerily into the camera as he placed the remote on the table. "My name is Harold White, and if you are viewing this recording, it means that I am quite dead. That being the case, my associate, Dana Kirby, John Beck's personal assistant, murdered me. The thought of that two-timing bitch getting away with the Beck fortune is too much for me to bear, but I am getting ahead of myself. I, Harold White, freely confess that my associate, Dana Kirby, and I murdered John Beck, his household staff, and framed Zack Cole for murder.

"Why, you ask yourself? Simple. Beck, because of his operation, had more money than he needed, while I did not. I know what you are thinking, what operation? I hate to break it to you, but old man Beck wasn't the upstanding citizen everyone in this uptight town supposed. Beck was in bed with major Miami drug lords, funneling their junk north. If you will just check out the warehouse on Bixby Street, you will find nearly half a ton of first-rate snow, ready to ship," he said, placing a key upon the table before him. "Don't believe me? Here is the key to the front door."

Harold held up a DVD case to the camera that read:
Beck's Confession.

"I think you will find this very interesting. I secretly recorded Beck bragging about his genius and how gullible this town was. It was my insurance against a case of late night lead poisoning, if you know what I mean. On the disk is Beck's confession of murdering seventeen people and framing the infamous preacher Cole back in 1940. It seemed that the good minister found out about Beck's murderous ways, but before he could expose him, Beck set him up to take the fall. How do you feel about the Angel of Bryson City now?"

Harold took another sip of water.

"My and Dana's plan was to kill Beck and frame Zack Cole, in a similar fashion to the way Beck framed Cole's great grandfather. I thought it was rather clever, if I do say so myself. After living here for the last fifteen years, I knew Bryson City would readily believe—even relish the idea—of another Cole gone bad. That freak-ass storm was a Godsend. Like what old man Beck did back in 1940, we made people…disappear. Nobody important, just a few of the homeless and ne'er-do-wells. I almost forgot; we cleaned out your jail as well. The more I think of it, this town owes us more than a tad of gratitude for clearing the streets of your rubbish."

Harold took another sip of water.

"Dana and I hired three thugs to murder the house staff and old man Beck while we established our alibis. Unfortunately, our plan began to unravel when we failed to make Zack Cole disappear. Zack learned of our crime and proved to be too slippery for us to catch. The punk ruined everything.

"As grand as our plan was, things were spiraling out of control. One of my employees stupidly killed a cop as he was arresting Zack. We couldn't afford to have Zack questioned by the local authorities, but killing a cop crossed the line. Don't worry, I made sure that was his last mistake. I decided to snatch Zack's girlfriend, Brenda Mills, and force him to come to us. As I speak, the men we used from the Beck murder are on their way to her apartment. By the way, you will find their bodies buried behind the cabin. Right next to at least two dozen rivals that Beck had silenced over the years. If all goes as planned, soon Brenda and that pain in the ass, Zack Cole, will keep them company. Sad to say, Dana and I will have to break up. Beck had too much money and I am too damn greedy."

Harold drained the last of the water.

"I know you are asking yourself, why is Harold doing this? Why is he putting the noose firmly about his own neck? The answer is, in case I lose, everybody loses. Call me a bad sport if you will, but people are so quick to jump to the wrong conclusion. The case with Preacher Cole being a prime example.

"I plan on being the winner of this little game, and if I do, this disk will never see the light of day. But, as we all know, bad things can happen. If Dana manages to get the upper hand, this little recording will make sure that bitch won't enjoy one damn dime."

Harold picked up the remote and smiled into the camera. Before the video ended, he said, "Damn, I'm good."

"Any questions?" asked Holtz.

"This is incredible! Is the disk for real?" asked Shane Barnes of WPPT.

"Yes, in every detail. Narcotics agents found millions of dollars worth of cocaine in Beck's warehouse. We have recovered the bodies of Miss Mills, Mr. White, and Miss Kirby, as well as three as yet unidentified men. A team of forensic anthropologists from The University of Tennessee has exhumed twelve bodies from the property so far, all as Harold White said.

"Sheriff Holtz, who sent the 911 call?" asked Elsa Phillips.

"We believe that Miss Mills made the call. Her mother identified Brenda's voice. It is our belief that Miss Mills was executed right after she made the call to 911, probably by Miss Kirby. Cole, we believe, somehow got hold of a weapon, and in the shootout, Kirby and White were both killed. Unfortunately, Cole sustained several severe gunshot wounds.

"What is the condition of Mr. Cole?" Asked Sam Werton of the
Bryson City Sun.

"He is still in critical condition, but the doctors say he will survive. I am happy to say they are calling it a miracle."

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