The Voice -Part 6
- The Voice - Part 5
The Voice speaks and demands complete obedience. You better pray it doesn't speak to you!
From Part 5
“What do you make of this, Lance? There are too many similarities to be coincidence. Do think it’s a copy-cat, or do you think we have a serial killer on the loose after 12 years?”
“I don’t know what to say. We closed the McClanahan case after about eight months of investigation. We didn’t have anything to go on. No clues. No real evidence. What has your department come up with so far?”
“Nothing. That’s why I’m calling you. I was hoping you might be able to get us going in the right direction.”
“Nope, not this time Buddy, but I’ll keep it in mind. If I hear of or become aware of anything new, I’ll let you know. I expect you to do the same for me, okay?”
Fisher leaned further back in his chair. He thought about the case that had been on ice for over a decade. He played the Whispering Pines scenario through in his mind. It was indeed eerie. Maybe it was time to take another look. Either way, someone was out there killing people. Fisher felt compelled to get involved with the Whispering Pines murder investigation.
Thursday evening and Peter and Margie once again found themselves in Doctor Todd Welch’s office. After thinking it through, both decided it would be best to undergo hypnosis again. Even though the thoughts of that horrible night were silent on Peter’s lips, his heart bled for answers.
Doctor Welch began the process of taking Peter back in time. He pulled from his files the questions he asked Peter 12 years ago and began. The same questions, the same answers, and the same block; Medford Alley refused to release her secret.
The only good that came from the test was that it showed consistency. After 12 years, Peter matched his thoughts to the original hypnosis results. What Peter was able to relay was unquestionably the truth. The problem was his mental block about Medford Alley. Just as Doctor Welch was about to bring Peter back to the present, Peter shuttered.
“Peter, what’s happening? What do you see?” The doctor asked.
Peter remained silent. Doctor Welch continued to question Peter. Perhaps a breakthrough was near. In the end there was nothing new to report, but Doctor Welch was intrigued. Peter showed a brief display of horror. The odd thing about it was that Doctor Welch had not asked Peter a question at the time. It was just an emotional response from Peter for no apparent reason. What did it mean – if anything?
Doctor Welch considered that maybe Peter’s memory had been jogged. But upon further questioning, Peter didn’t reveal any new direction to be explored, and Doctor Welch brought Peter back to the present.
Doctor Welch closed with, “Folks, I’ll have to do some research and some analytical work on this interview. I’ll need to get back to you, but I honestly don’t see how anything has changed in the past 12 years. I am curious about that slight show of emotion Peter displayed at the end of the questioning.
“Peter, do you remember anything that took place over the past 45 minutes? Do you have any conscious thoughts about what had taken place? Do you recall anything that might add to what we’ve already discovered?
Peter answered negatively, and the group was dismissed. It had been raining off and on and the parking lot was still wet. Peter looked into the northern sky as he felt a dampening chill cover his body. Was it the influence of the hypnotism? Maybe just an ugly reminder of 12 years ago when Peter’s life was forever altered in the rain? Regardless, something moved in Peter. He knew he would never be the same.
The weekend was fast approaching for Detective Fisher. He was finishing up loose ends when his phone rang. Police Chief Thomas Gordon was on the other end.
“Look Lance, I hate to do this to you, but you’ll need to change your weekend plans. We just had a homicide reported. Drop what you’re doing and get over to Harry Clemson’s farm. CSI will fill you in. Lance, I really am sorry.” The phone clicked and Fisher was on his way to the Clemson farm on the road out of town.
As he sped down the dirt road leading to the Clemson farm house he saw that the EMT and CSI were already on the scene.
“Can I see the body?” Fisher grunted.
CSI Carl Zimmerman unzipped the body bag. Fisher looked closely. It was easy to see the throat had been slashed. Above the right eye, a steel toed boot left a familiar wound. Fisher began to slowly piece things together.
“Hey Zimmerman,” Fisher yelled in no particular direction. “Do you have an ETD yet?”
Zimmerman shot back across the field where he was gathering evidence, “Estimated time of death, approximately 19:45.”
Fisher took a stab in the dark as he walked over to Zimmerman. “Was there anything found on his person?”
“Nothing but a clear, plastic bag of Cocaine. Must have been a sour drug deal.”
It's got to be a Serial Killing
“No, I don’t think so. I think what we have is a serial killing. This is the second one in two weeks. It mimics the attempt on Peter McClanahan’s life about 12 years ago. My question is, why did it take so long for this to start? If Peter was the first victim, why the lapse in time before this guy goes on the hunt again?”
“Could be he never quit. Maybe he moved from the area, and has just moved back. Maybe he has relatives here, and he has some unsettled business to take care of on his stop-over. It looks like it’s just beginning here, but maybe things have been happening in other parts of the country, and of the world for that matter, that we don’t know about.”
“Yeah, good point Zimmy. I better get back to headquarters and see what I can find. Make sure I get the full report on my desk by Monday morning.”
“Hi Margie, this is Lance Fisher. There’s just been another murder over near the Clemson farm. There’s a lot of repeating details. Sooner or later, if he stays the course, we’ll have this guy. In the meantime I was wondering how Peter responded to Doctor Welch’s treatment last night. Is there anything new I need to know?”
“No, Lance. Nothing changed. Peter’s answers were all the same. Doctor Welch did say that that was good because it confirmed Peter was telling the truth all along. There was one new revelation, but Doctor Welch has to analyze it. At the end of the session, Peter shuttered for a brief second – like maybe he was aware of something horrible. We’d like to think his memory is returning, but who knows?”
Fisher decided to crawl out on one more limb. “Margie, would you have any idea what time that would have been?”
“Oh, I’d say about a quarter to eight. Why are you asking? Oh my! You’re onto something, aren’t you? Lance, what’s going on?”
“No, just relax Margie. I’m just trying to keep in the information loop. If anything turns up, you’ll be the first to know. Gotta run.”
Fisher’s next phone call went out to Doctor Welch. “Hello, Doc. This is Lance Fisher. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there’s been another murder full of all the trademarks of the Peter McClanahan attempt. I know Margie gave you permission to share Peter’s information with me. I need to know about last night’s session. Anything new on Peter’s end? We believe possibly the same one who attempted to kill Peter is back in town and is committing serial murders. We need to put a stop to this before someone else dies.”
Although Doctor Welch did not fully analyze the results of the session, he did inform Fisher of the outcome. “Lance, everything is the same it as was back in the day. Peter’s answers are all the same. They match perfectly. That speaks of the fact that Peter didn’t lie then, and he’s not lying now.
“He had nothing to do with dealing drugs at Lafayette High, and he still has no memory of Medford Alley.”
“Margie said something about a reaction Peter had to one of the questions. What was that about?”
“Well, it wasn’t exactly a reaction to one of the questions. We were just finishing up and I was about to bring Peter back to the real world when he showed a slight tremor of horror. He did not respond to any of the questions I asked him about that, but there definitely was a physical response.
“The strange thing is I would expect to see that kind of response in relation to a question. It was just out of the blue, and apparently for no reason – yet it was unmistakable. He reacted to something not yet in his conscious being. That gives me hope.”
“Doc, I may be grasping for straws, but can you tell me about what time this occurred?”
“Oh yes. All my interviews are recorded with a time and date stamp. Give me just a second to pull it up . . . Okay – got it! This exact reaction took place at 7:43 last night. Detective, I don’t suppose you can tell me what you’re thinking, can you?”
“No, not just yet. But I will be in touch. Thanks for your help.”
It was after midnight when Detective Fisher finally headed for home. He drove past 2124 Dawson Street just because. A light was on in the kitchen. He fought back the urge to stop and share what was on his mind with Margie. That would have to wait until Monday. Right now an exhausted Detective Lance Fisher desperately needed some rest.
Monday morning came too fast, and Lance was back at his desk trying to put the facts together. There were two murders in two weeks following the pattern of the attempted murder of Peter McClanahan. There were no leads – little physical evidence, if any, to go on. These were mastermind killings, but what was the purpose? Why the planted drugs? Why the steel-toed boot to the eye? Why? Why? Detective Lance Fisher was slowly being driven over the edge.
Before Lance knew it, the day had passed. He had one more stop to make before calling it a day. The evening was fast approaching. After sifting through the few known facts one last time, he headed over to talk to Margie.
“Hi, Margie. How’s the beginning to your week?”
“No offense Lance, but judging by the way you look my beginning is better than yours. Come on in. Coffee?”
“Yeah. That would be great. Lance sat down at the table and propped his head in his hands. “Look Margie, we have three similar cases over a 12 year period – two in the last two weeks. If this is the same guy, why do you think he waited so long to begin the attacks again? Or is it possible it’s someone else, maybe even three different killers? I just don’t know what to make of it anymore, but I do know this. If we don’t find the killer soon, I’m afraid more will die needlessly. How about some input, Marge?”
“Hey! I’m not the detective. I’m just a mother hoping to someday find justice for her son. I don’t know what it all means, but it seems like maybe we’re getting closer. At least that’s what I want to believe.”
“Yeah, me too,” Lance muttered. Margie’s soft voice and sincerity was beginning to get to Lance. He wanted to help her as much as he wanted to help Peter, as much as he wanted to see justice served. But the law had no place for feelings. Lance shook it off as he sipped his coffee.
“I need to know more about Peter’s reaction at Doctor Welch’s office the other night.”
“Well, it was nothing really. Doctor Welch said he would have to analyze it and get back to me. I haven’t heard anything yet. The questioning was over and Doctor Welch was just bringing Peter back. Actually, I’d say he was closer to consciousness than unconsciousness. He was sitting still and all of a sudden his body stiffened and then he jerked. The horror that shown on his face was otherworldly. I had never seen Peter react like that before. The question is, what was he reacting to?” Then that was it. Everything was normal again.
”Doctor Welch questioned him before bringing him all the way back, but he was silent – nothing to say. After he was brought back, the doctor questioned him again – still nothing to say.”
“Margie, you told me this happened about 7:45. I talked to Doctor Welch. He said this took place at exactly 7:43 p.m. Do you realize that the time of death for the Clausson boy over at the Clemson farm was set at 7:45 p.m.
“Margie, could it be that Peter has a gift – a gift of telepathy? Because this was done to him he somehow relates to those who are going through the same thing. Margie, if this is true, Peter could be invaluable in helping us catch this guy. Do you know if he had a similar experience when that murder took place in Fulton County? If not, maybe we better find out.”
“No I don’t honestly know, but I doubt if he would remember. He has no recollection of the other night even through hypnosis. Let me get him and we’ll see, but I think it’s probably useless.”
Lance watched Margie disappear around the corner as she headed upstairs to Peter’s bedroom. Lance’s lonely and overworked heart began to take comfort in Margie. In many ways, Lance had lived his life alone and in isolation, just as Peter had. He continued to fight the feelings.
© 2016 William Kovacic
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