The Light at the End of the Tunnel (20 page)

Saying he could ever leave this jail, “Hey!”
he shouted, “Anybody out there?” It was the loudest he had ever
used his voice.

Second detective Devin soon came to the door
and leaned in, “Yeah! Whaddaya want? Ya hungry?”

“Yeah man! I haven’t ate…hell, I don’t know
for how long. How about a burger and a malt?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Hey! How about a Coke while you’re
gone?”

“You bet!” The detective’s head disappeared
as he closed the door.

Well, that brought a little action. He would
remember the use of his voice next time he wanted something,
especially the tone of his voice. The tone he guessed was
important, more important even than the words. Even the short time
he had been with Jasper the older boy had at least taught him
that
much, that when he wanted something he had to go after
it himself. Nobody was going to do it for him. And the tone of his
voice would help make a difference.

Second detective Devin soon appeared with,
“Sorry. No Coke. How about Pepsi?”

“No prob, man.” He grabbed the can, popped
the top, took a long swallow, then noticed Second Detective Devin
was still there. “Well, a burger and a malt, man!” He said it kind
of sarcastically, and surprised even himself at the tone of his
voice.

“Right away, kid.” The detective
disappeared.

Les Paul felt quite pleased with his newfound
power.

Chapter 33
Meet Patrolman
Sikorsky

“Occasionally they take short side trips to
other states, Lieutenant, but mainly they’ve been traveling all
through Nebraska and Kansas tracking that kid we’ve got back in
lockup,” the uniformed patrolman said, “The one they didn’t talk
to.”

“‘
Tracking’
him?” First Detective
asked.

“Yeah. They have seemed to be about two years
behind him…” The patrolman stared at his computer screen, “Wow,
that kid’s been to a whole bunch of foster homes…must be a
hellion.”

“Yes,
‘hellion,’
” First Detective
said, “And then what?”

“Well, the story of the rape of this foster
mother must have sort’a closed the gap for’em. They skipped three
foster homes and came here instead.”

First Detective strolled over to the
patrolman’s desk, leaned over and looked at the screen. The
patrolman pointed, “That’s the town where the kid stayed three
foster homes ago.” The patrolman moved his finger to the other
column, “And the same town showed a few credit card uses by Radford
O’Hare. They’ve been tracking this kid for a few years.”

First Detective straightened up and massaged
his jaw, “I knew there was something about that kid, but I still
wonder why….”

“According to some of the family services—the
ones that would talk to me—the PD’s claim to have been hired by the
kid’s birth parents to find him.”

“And now that they’ve found him they’ve run
off to Las Vegas and got married.”

The patrolman nodded, “They must figure they
can take a break now…now that they’ve found him.”

“Tell you what, my boy. I’ve talked to my
superiors. I know it’s late in the day, but you go change into
civvies, whatever you think would be appropriate for Las Vegas. Be
sure of where O’Hare and his new bride are staying and then you go
there. Get into their same hotel. Find out what you can of their
plans—they haven’t seen or met you, correct?”

“Correct, sir…well, we did make eye contact
just as they were leaving.”

“Eye contact?”

“Yes, sir, but just barely.”

“Fine…and you won’t have your uniform
on.”

“No, sir, and that eye contact was very
brief.”

“Right.”

“But, at some point,” Sikorsky said, “I think
I should make contact, actually introduce myself and….”

“You do what you think is right, kid. Find
out what you can and…when they come back, you come back. If they’ve
been trackin’ this kid they’ll be coming right back here. We’ll
find out if it’s true that the birth parents hired them, or if
something else is going on.”

“I’d vote on
‘something else,’
sir.”

“So would I.” First Detective smiled, “Well,
patrolman, you print out whatever info you want to take along, give
a copy to me, and then get moving. You do this job right you’ll get
to take the test to advance. A little early in your career maybe,
but, I don’t think you’re too young or inexperienced for a
detective’s shield. And, sometime after you get back, our boy
Devin—“ he dropped his voice, “—will soon go back into
uniform.”

“Sir…?”

First Detective and the patrolman looked up
to see Second detective Devin just entering and looking their way,
and carrying a sack from Burger King and a drink with a straw
sticking out.

“Oh, nothing, Devin,” First Detective said,
“We were just wondering if you were getting some food for our young
guest…I guess you were.”

Devin lifted the drink with the straw in
toast fashion, then disappeared through the door leading to
lockup.

“I guess I’m surprised Devin isn’t going
instead of me, sir.”

“Sorry to say, but Devin probably would get
lost traveling to Las Vegas. No, he’ll be back in uniform before
long no matter how well you do, and I do expect you to do well,
patrolman.” First Detective leaned over slightly to look at the
patrolman’s name tag, “Si-kor-sky…did I pronounce that right?”

“Perfect, sir.”

****

“I think it’s time we’re heading back, my
dear,” the chaplain said, “Les Paul could be anywhere by now. But
we at least have a more legitimate way to track him. I suspect the
police will be more cooperative than the many family services we’ve
dealt with. We maybe didn’t give that station in Brentwood much
chance.”

“I was a bit nervous there but I agree.”
Nicole pulled the bedcovers up, then lifted her arms and stretched,
“And I think he’s still in jail waiting for the local Family
Services to pick him up—he didn’t
do
anything, Radford.”

“He maybe didn’t
do
anything, but, as
that one foster parent said, he probably wanted to. And what about
Jasper? That boy could rat him out, whether he did anything or not,
and whatever, it’s time we get back.” He leaned over and put his
right arm over Nicole’s waist. She brought her arms down from her
stretch and enveloped him, and kissed him. It still amazed him that
this young woman found him so attractive, and he thought about all
the years he had remained celibate, and for what?

To do God’s work? No, celibacy was man’s
idea. God wanted man to be married and happy, and through marriage
and satisfied happiness men could double God’s work. He had met no
other woman who he would have considered marrying anyway, and had
thanked God, often, for bringing Nicole to him. He kissed this
woman back and they locked into each other’s arms for an
invigorating two minutes before he pulled back and just looked at
the enchanting young woman in bed with him.

She sent her most gorgeous smile yet, “Yes,
Radford, we need to go.”

Forty minutes later, refreshed from the
shower, they walked into the hotel’s restaurant.

****

Patrolman Sikorsky hadn’t ordered breakfast
yet. He had sat down fifteen minutes earlier, ordered coffee, and
then had decided to wait, Why not just walk up to them and
introduce himself? They would get to know each other, and,
eventually, what they’re doing would come out. Probably not quite
that easy, but...he could certainly share his job of software sales
and they would think nothing of it, but likely they wouldn’t so
easily share what
they
were doing. They might not even share
that they’re private detectives. He guessed that a good private
detective would be…quite private.

They made quite a pair. An old man with white
hair and a young beauty queen with luscious brunette hair. He
suspected she was older than himself though, but still under forty.
The man appeared to be fifty or sixty. Of course, who was he to
judge? Maybe they got married for other than love and sex. Maybe
the woman just wanted a sugar daddy, but then she wouldn’t have
needed to marry him...and a private detective likely wasn’t too
rich. Not sugar daddy rich, anyway. Maybe just a matter of
convenience, Maybe neither just plain did not want to be alone
anymore. Somehow they met, decided to stay together, and then just
decided to get married for tax purposes, or insurance, or a nice
house. Whatever.

Sure, one of them had a nice house and simply
didn’t want to be alone any more, but still, that gorgeous gal
certainly could have found a better man, but then maybe
he
had the house. But the two have been traveling together for
years…just tracking this kid? Nothing was making good sense. He
began to consider more strongly just walking up to them and
starting to talk.

Boy, the way his head was working. He should
be thinking about his own future. First Detective had all but
promised him advancement. Of course he had to pass a test first,
but it almost sounded like he would get to partner with First
Detective himself. Poor Devin, the man had made detective just a
year earlier, but no way had proven himself. Had to be told what to
do all the time, told how to fill out reports, and that
golden-haired kid had practically led him around by the nose.

Oh, there they are
. The white-haired
man and his gorgeous partner. The man looked younger that
morning—and why wouldn’t he? Making love with a gorgeous woman like
that would keep any man looking young. Certainly they’re making
love. Boy, if he was that man, that woman would be locked in his
arms every night, and all night. He would let them get settled at
least, then he would just take his cup and jug of coffee over and
ask to join them. They looked his way. Both of them. They even
acted like they knew him. Or maybe they saw him looking at them and
were just looking back.

They reached a table. The white-haired guy
pulled her chair out. Wow, don’t see much of that anymore. Maybe
that’s why she likes him. Because he’s an old-fashioned
gentleman.

Time to go. Without thinking about it
further, Patrolman Sikorsky grasped his half full cup and the jug
of coffee, rose, pushed the chair with the backs of his legs,
stood, and started for their table.

****

Three couples and one lone young man were
seated in the spacious dining area when the chaplain and Nicole
came in. They got settled, then that same young man looked up and
smiled…in recognition…?

Who on earth?

The chaplain didn’t have to wait long for his
answer, as the young man stood and started walking toward them.

“Sikorsky’s my name.” The young man set the
coffee pot and his cup down and held out his hand, “Mind if I join
you folks?”

The chaplain stood partway and grasped the
young man’s hand and glanced at Nicole. She opened her hands and
her expression suggested it was probably permissible.

“I guess you can, Mr. Sikorsky.” The chaplain
squeezed and released, “But…have we ever met…somewhere?”

“First everybody sit down,” Nicole said, “So
we can order.”

They sat. Sikorsky was first to speak, “We
haven’t met, folks, but I’ve been traveling to several towns in my
sales position and I’ve seen you folks several times—in the
distance, you know…and running into you here in Vegas, well, I just
felt it was time for us to meet.”

“What do you sell?” the chaplain asked.

The young man’s face colored—for a couple
seconds a bright pink just glowed, especially an obvious birthmark
on his forehead—but he answered quickly, maybe too quickly,
“Software…for…business applications.”

“Un-huh,” the chaplain said.

“Yes, mostly I approach small businesses,
places that likely have their new computer but don’t really have it
up and running good yet—course I do have leads as to where to go.”
Most of the young man’s normal color appeared to return, except for
a narrow strip from the bridge of his nose leading up into his hair
on the left side.

The chaplain felt pretty sure that the young
man did not sell software, but he would move slowly, and he hoped
Nicole saw it too. Likely she did, because she missed very little.
“So, any luck here in Vegas?” he asked.

“Luck…? Do you mean…gamboling…?”

“I think my husband means sales,” Nicole
said, “Or maybe small businesses needing software in Vegas are
rare.”

“No, I—I—“

“So why are you
really
here, Mr.
Sikorsky?”
Wow, Nicole is going to take no prisoners this
time.
“And is that your real name?”

“Yes. That’s my real name.” Sikorsky smiled
and shook his head slightly, “Wow, you folks are quick, so I guess
you really are private detectives.”

“A waitress arrived, “May I take your order
here?”

All three ordered a traditional American
breakfast of bacon, eggs, whole wheat toast, and hashbrowns.

“I want some ham too,” Nicole said, “I’m
famished.”

The young Sikorsky grinned toward her but
said nothing.

“Nicole and I are on our honeymoon,” the
chaplain offered, “We need to…
rejuvenate
, a bit.”

Sikorsky increased his grin at the chaplain
and nodded.

“We’ll eat first, Mr. Sikorsky,” the chaplain
said, “And now that we understand each other better, we can both
probably shed some light on how we know each other, and what you
actually want from us.”

“Agreed,” Sikorsky said.

****

“And that’s about the story,” the chaplain
said, “We think the nine-year-old boy who goes by the name of Baby
Boy-Doe9, is the reincarnation of Les Paul, a worst-of-the-worst
criminal, executed by the state nine years ago.”

“And this book you say you found—“

“I didn’t just find it,” the chaplain cut in,
“I was led to it by a dream that showed a wall-locker in a location
where I knew there was no locker. I got out of bed immediately,
went there, opened the locker—“