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Trade Anything
By M. Daniel Nickle
The yellow ball of the
afternoon sun was camouflaged with high floating helium balloon clusters that
outlined the backyard. Daphne had been looking forward to her friend Clarice’s
birthday party all week. Clarice’s mom Beatrice greeted Daphne and her dad Max
at the front door and led them through the house to the party in progress.
Daphne was wide-eyed at all the bright colored balloons and the picnic table
loaded with Clarice’s presents, party hats, and cupcakes.
When Clarice spotted
Daphne, she ran up to her friend to welcome her and introduce her to some of
the girls Daphne didn’t know. “Thanks for coming to my party, Daphne,” she
said. “Is that present for me?”
“I hope you like it,”
Daphne said as she handed over the package wrapped in dancing unicorns and
rainbows.
“Thanks. I’ll put it on
the table and we can play with the other girls.”
Before running off with Clarice,
Daphne turned to her father. “Thank you for bringing me, Dad. See ya later!”
“Have a good time, sweetheart.”
“I think the girls will
have fun, Max. I’ll keep an eye on them. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I know, Beatrice. This
will be good for her. Daphne has kept to herself quite a bit since her mother,
well, you know.”
Beatrice smiled and
touched Max’s arm. “It must be tough on a little girl. She’ll be fine here.
I’ll make sure she has a fun time. We’re planning on opening gifts and having
cupcakes and ice cream around four. I think the girls will be ready to go home
by four thirty. Either I or one of the other mothers can drive Daphne home, if
you like.”
“I can't think of
putting you out like that, Beatrice. I’ll be here for Daphne at four thirty.”
Max’s voice said he was
leaving, but his feet didn't move. Beatrice took his arm to lead him away. “You
better get going before you get roped into playing a game. Don’t worry. Daphne
is fine.”
“You’re right, of
course. I seldom get time to be alone these days. I’ll see you at four thirty.”
He paused to watch Daphne playing for just a minute more and then walked with Beatrice
through the gate on the side of the house. As she opened the gate for Max she
gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“See you at four
thirty,” she repeated.
Max got into his car and
drove the few blocks to his house. When he pulled into the driveway he
noticed the draperies in the living room were closed. I could have sworn I
opened the drapes before we left for school this morning, he thought to
himself. Then again, Daphne ran late getting ready so they left in a bit of a
rush.
He unlocked the front
door and walked in. He removed his sport coat and placed it on the back of a
chair as he went to the TV room to relax. He never had time for an afternoon
nap recently since there was always something to do to take care of the house
or Daphne after work. Not that he minded. Max loved his little girl more than
anything. With his wife away, he was playing dual parenting roles as well as
handy man.
He sat down in his
recliner and pulled the side lever to raise his feet and lower his back. Just
as he started to relax into sleep a familiar fragrance startled him awake and
into the upright position for springing to his feet. Evening In Paris. His
wife’s favorite perfume wafted in from the hall. Rebecca couldn’t be in the
house. That wasn’t possible.
The judge remanded her
to an upstate psychiatric hospital instead of prison for attempted murder.
Max’s beloved Rebecca had tried to stab him to death while
he slept. Fortunately all but two of her strikes had missed their mark. Max
managed with some effort to loosen his wife's grip and hurl the kitchen knife
across the room. He had grabbed hold of Rebecca’s wrists by the time the police
arrived in response to the neighbors' 911 call to report a woman
shrieking like a banshee at one in the morning.
“You think I don’t know
about you and that whore? Everyone in the neighborhood knows about you and her
charity work! With a husband like hers I can’t for the life of me figure what
she wants with a ball-less wonder like you! I’ll be a widow before I’ll be a
divorcee!”
The police busted the
door to get in and mistakenly ordered Max take his hands off the woman,
believing she was being attacked. Once free, Rebecca lunged for the knife and screamed
“You’re going to die, Max!”
The police quickly
corrected their mistake by grabbing Rebecca, handcuffing her and putting her in
the back of the squad car. One of the officers who returned to check on Max
noticed that Max was bleeding and radioed for an ambulance.
All the screaming and
sirens woke Daphne. Max saw the child trembling in the hallway. Even a
tourniquet couldn’t keep him from rushing to his daughter to hug her, kiss her
and say, “Everything’s all right, Daphne. Mommy has to go to the hospital, but
Daddy’s here.”
Mrs. Danvers from next
door appeared and said Daphne could spend the night at her house if she wanted
to.
“Would you like that,
Daphne? Would you like to stay with Mrs. Danvers tonight?”
“Why can’t I stay here
with you, Daddy?”
“Sweetheart, Daddy has
to see a doctor and get his arm bandaged. It might take a while and I don’t
want you to miss out on your dreams. Mrs. Danvers has a nice bed waiting for
you.”
“Let’s go and get some
school clothes for tomorrow, Daphne. Then we’ll go to my house and have some
milk and perhaps a cookie. Would you like that?”
The girl nodded yes and
reached for Mrs. Danvers’s hand.
“We’ll get her clothes
and be on our way, Max. Daphne will be fine with me. Do you need anything
yourself?”
“No, thanks, Mrs. D. I’m
in good hands. Sorry for the disturbance.”
“Think nothing of it.
This wasn’t your doing. Everyone knows that. I’ll help Daphne get her things
and we’ll be on our way.”
Now Max followed the
scent until he came face to face with the woman who tried to kill him.
“What’s the matter, Max?
Cat got your tongue? It’s good to see you, too, darling. Where’s my little
girl? Where’s Daphne?”
“She's not here.”
“You always had a knack
for stating the obvious. I know she’s not here. I’ve searched the house. So
where is she? I want to see my daughter!”
“That's not going to
happen, Rebecca. How did you get out? How did you get here?”
“Don’t you worry your
little brain, my pet. That doctor knew what he was doing when he offered to
tune up the motor after Daphne tore me up. Leave to your offspring to try to
walk out of the womb. That man’s genius makes men want to do what I say. I mean
real men. Present company excluded. My pussy never had much effect on you. So
what’s the attraction for that whore?” An idea occurred to Rebecca that struck
her funny. “Or is it her? Maybe that stud she’s married to that gets you going,
is that it? Do the three of you do it together or does she watch?” Rebecca
laughs a hearty laugh at the sight of the threesome together. “That’s it, isn’t
it? Really darling if you wanted a dick up your ass you should have said so. I
would have strapped one on for you.”
“You don’t have the
power to goad me anymore. You just have commitment papers. The police will be
here shortly. I’d leave if I were you.”
There was a knock at the
door. A man shouted, “Mr. Winters? Are you in there?”
“You sonofabitch! I
should have killed you when I had the chance.”
“Keep talking, my dear.
I hit 911 on my cellphone when I first smelled your perfume. The police have
heard every word you said. Excuse me. I need to get the door.”
Once again, the police
handcuffed Mrs. Winters and deposited her in the backseat of the squad car. Max
followed the little entourage out of the house. This time his wife held her
head down and remained silent. Rebecca caught sight of him as the officer
closed the car door. She let her eyes say it all. Max didn’t blink; in fact, he
tried not to smile. Rebecca’s little
scene practically guaranteed his plan was going to work perfectly.
The patrol car turned
the corner at the end of the block, and Max started to go inside. There was a
lilt in his step that hadn’t been there earlier.
“Max!” someone shouted.
He saw Mrs. Danvers
walking toward him across the lawn. “Hello, Mrs. Danvers,” he said with a smile
and a wave.
When his neighbor was
within range of being able to speak in a confidential tone Mrs. Danvers asked,
“Was that Mrs. Winters I saw in that police car?”
“Yes, that was my wife.
She decided to take a break from therapy to visit Daphne.”
“She hasn’t been
released has she?”
“No, her little outing
came as a surprise to everyone. She’s on her way back where she belongs now,
Mrs. Danvers. There’s no need to worry.”
“Where is Daphne, by the
way, Mr. Winters?”
‘She’s safe. She’s at
her friend Clarice’s birthday party. I’ll bring her home around four thirty.”
“If you don’t mind my
saying so, Mr. Winters, you look like you could do with a nap. Why don’t you
take it easy and I’ll bring the child home.”
“That’s kind of you,
Mrs. Danvers, but I don’t want to put you out. Beatrice, that’s Clarice’s
mother as you may know, had also offered to drive her home after the party, but
I’m happy to get her.”
‘Nonsense, Mr. Winters.
What are neighbors for? You go inside and I’ll fetch Daphne for you. I was
going to do some marketing anyway. Beatrice’s will be on my way home. It’s no
trouble at all.”
“Okay. You win, Mrs.
Danvers. I am a little tired. I’m going to take advantage of your offer and the
chance for forty winks. I’ll see you later on. Thanks, again.”
Max didn’t think he had
been asleep for very long when he was awakened by the doorbell. Whoever was at
the door was pressing the doorbell button like it was it was his job. “I’m
coming. I’m coming!” He called out as he walked toward the door.
He opened the door to a
frantic Mrs. Danvers. “Mr. Winters, oh, Mr. Winters!” the woman was visibly
shaken. “I don’t know how to tell you―.”
“Tell me what, Mrs.
Danvers? Come inside and tell me what has you so upset.” As he stepped aside to
allow her entry, Max looked past her toward her car looking for his daughter.
“Where’s Daphne?”
“That’s what I’m trying
to tell you.”
“What’s happened? Tell
me, Mrs. Danvers, where’s Daphne? Where’s my little girl?”
“When I arrived at
Beatrice’s, there was no sign of anyone at home. No one answered the front
door. I went around to the side gate and the back yard was empty.”
“All the other girls had
gone home? What about Beatrice and Clarice? Surely they were there, right?”
“Mr. Winters, there was
no sign of anyone. No trace of anything to say a birthday party had been there.
Nothing. The backyard didn’t look like any children had ever been there at
all!”
“That can’t be, Mrs.
Danvers! Where would they have gone?”
“I don’t know, Mr.
Winters. That’s why I came straight back here.”
“Let’s drive over there
and take a look around. If Beatrice isn’t home, maybe one of the neighbors saw
something. We have to find them!”
“Maybe we should call
the police.”
“No, let’s not just yet.
I’m going over there for another look. You’re welcome to come with me if you
like. I certainly understand if you’d rather not.”
“This has all been such
a shock, Mr. Winters. I think I need to go home and sit down with a cup of tea.
I’m telling you there was not a soul anywhere around that house. My advice is
to call the police.”
“I’m so sorry your
kindness is repaid with upset, Mrs. Danvers. You go on and calm yourself. I’m
going to drive over there. I’m sure there’s an explanation. There’s no need to
involve the police just yet. Besides, if I know my wife, Rebecca is giving them
their fill of my family as we speak. I’ll walk you to your door.”
“Will you call me when you
return, Mr. Winters? I’ll be anxious to know the little girl is home safe and
sound.”
“Of course, Mrs.
Danvers, I will call you. Better yet, Daphne will call you herself.”
The older woman let
herself inside her house and closed her door. As Max backed out of his
driveway, he spotted Mrs. Danvers watching him through her picture window. When
the car was out of sight, Mrs. Danvers removed her little notepad from her
purse. She opened it as she pick up the receiver of her phone and tapped the
number she had written down.
When the person on the
other end of the line answered, Mrs. Danvers said, “He’s on his way,” and hung
up. She then went to her kitchen to put water on the boil for her tea.
Tires squealed and laid
rubber on the pavement when Max’s car turned the corner on his way back to Clarice’s
house. Adrenaline transfused from his body into the car. The brakes took hold
mere fractions of an inch from Clarice’s garage door. In his haste, Max pushed
the shifter into park, but forgot to turn the engine off. Pounding on the front
door brought out the neighbor directly across the street, but no one from the
intended house. Not even when he yelled “Clarice, Clarice! Open up? Daphne!
Daphne! Can you hear me, baby? It’s Dad. I’m here to take you home, sweetheart.
Open the door! Clarice, in the name of God open this door.”
The neighbor man from
across the street called out, “Mister! You’re wasting your breath! No one lives
there. Moved out months ago. Went to Montana or Wyoming or some place out
there. House is still for sale.”
“No, you’re wrong. I
dropped my daughter off here earlier this afternoon for a birthday party. A
woman named Clarice lives here with her daughter Lisa. It was Lisa’s party.
Someone has to be home,” Max yelled back.
Now frantic, Max ran
around to the side of the house to the gate where Clarice had shown him out. A
clear view of the backyard showed no hint of a child’s party that had taken
place. No lawn furniture. No picnic table. No balloons. The smallest piece of
wrapping paper wasn’t to be seen. Max tried to open the gate, but it was locked
from the inside. He stood there shaking the gate to keep himself from shaking.
The smell of beer assaulted his nostrils. He turned around sharply and almost elbowed the man in
the face. “I don’t understand. Just a couple hours ago this backyard was filled
with littler girls my daughter’s age. There were dozens of balloons around the
yard. A picnic table was loaded with birthday gifts and cupcakes.”
“You must have the wrong
house, Mister. Like I said, no one’s lived here in months. If people had been
dropping off their kids here, I would have seen it. I live just right over
there.” He made a broad gesture to his house across the street that was an
indicator of the beer he had consumed. Max doubted the man would have noticed
anything. The neighbor sensed the disbelief and commented, “I noticed you,
didn’t I? I noticed you almost crashed the garage door even before you started
yelling like a maniac. C’mon over to my place. We’ll have a beer and get this
situation sorted out.”
“I don’t need a beer. I
need to find my daughter.”
“I’ll help you find your
daughter, but we need a plan. To make a plan I for one need a beer. C’mon.
Whaddayasay? Micro-brewed.”
Max nodded his
agreement. The two men walked around to the front of the house. A news van with
a satellite on the roof blocked the driveway. A reporter and her cameraman
approached with microphone extended.
“I understand your
daughter is missing. Would you like to tell your story to our viewing audience?
I’m Roberta Calef, Fox TV 5 News. I’d like to get you on the air right away so
viewers can help locate your little girl. So do you think it was a kidnapping
for ransom? Have the kidnappers contacted you? Folks, I am Roberta Calef Fox
News and we are live on the scene of child abduction where the tragic story is
still unfolding. Back to you in the newsroom.”
“I didn’t get you name?”
“You didn’t ask. Who
called you? How did you know to come here?”
“I still don’t know your
name?”
“Winters, Max Winters. I
want, no I demand to know who called you here!”
“Mr. Winters, we don’t
reveal our sources and this time I couldn’t if I wanted to. An anonymous tip. I
assume it was the same person who called you.”
“No one called me. I
dropped my daughter off her a couple hours ago to attend her friend’s birthday
party. I planned to pick her up now.”
“Mr. Winters, this house
is obviously empty and for sale.”
“It wasn’t earlier this
afternoon.”
“Mr. Winters, you didn’t
notice the realtor’s sign in the front yard?”
“Where did that come
from? I never saw any for sale sign. I tell you I dropped my daughter off for
her friend’s birthday party. The place was full of little girls having a good
time. The house was not empty and there was no sign in the front yard or
anywhere around here.”
“Mr. Winter’s, at the
risk of sounding insensitive I must ask if you are in the habit of dropping
your little girl off at houses without checking with the other parents first?”
“I didn’t just drop her
off. I escorted Daphne into the party. I know the mother of the little girl.
Her name is Clarice. We’ve met several times for school functions and play
dates for the girls. Why are you trying to make me out to be some irresponsible
bum? I am a good parent. I need to find my daughter and frankly you are wasting
my time! Now if you’ll excuse me I have some calls to make.”
“Like the police, Mr.
Winters? Have you even cared enough to call the police about your missing
daughter?”
“I haven’t had time. I
just got here minutes before you arrived and shoved a microphone in my face and
asking me inane questions!”
“There you have it folks
straight from the father’s mouth. His daughter is missing and he has yet to
phone the police. We will keep you updated as the case develops. I’m Roberta
Calef Fox News TV 5.”
“Your camera was rolling
this whole time? I heard you say you were turning the telecast back to the
newsroom!”
“Yes. Well, sometimes in
suspicious cases like yours we get the best part of the story after the
interviewee thinks it’s over. Just like I did with you now. Instead of standing
here berating me, I’d find a phone if I were you and call the police. C’mon,
Jim. We’ve got enough from here. Let’s get over to the station and find out
what the police think of all this.”
“C’mon, buddy. Winters,
is it? You can call me Giles. Giles Corey’s m’name. I think you could really do
with a beer. You can use my phone.”
The neighbor man placed
his arm across Max’s shoulders and guided him across the street. “Do you like
micro-breweries? Well, you’re in for a treat with this one.” As Giles pushed his front door open and
stepped aside so Max could go enter the house, he caught a glimpse of a yellow
balloon soaring into the sky from the backyard across the street. He smiled.
“Yessir, I think you’re going to enjoy this little brew of mine. Comes from an
old Massachusetts family recipe, made right here in Newtown. One of my
favorites.” Giles followed his guest inside and closed the door.
“Where’s your phone?”
“What? Oh yes, the
phone. It’s there in the living room next to my reading chair. Go ahead. Make
yourself to home and make your call. I’ll take my time in the kitchen getting
our beers.”
Max went into the living
room, sat down next to the phone and dialed 9-1-1. Max thought it’s been a
while since he had seen a phone with an actual dial. He was surprised the
antique instrument still worked. He just replaced the receiver when his host
entered the room carrying two bottles and two steins. “Sorry to intrude, but it
looked like you were finished. I figured it was time for refreshments.”
“Sure. No problem. The
call didn’t take long.”
“What did they say, the
police I mean, if I’m not being too nosey?”
“They told me she hadn’t
really been gone long enough to be a missing person. If I cared to call it a
kidnapping they would send a car right over.”
“Better get these down
before we’re interrupted then,” Giles said as he opened one of the bottles and
poured its contents into one of the steins.
“None for me. Thanks
Giles. I want to be on my game when I talk to the police.”
“What a little nip of
something stronger to calm your nerves? That reporter seemed to get your goat
as they say.”
“No, thanks anyway.” Max
had a clear view of the house across the street from where he sat. “You really
do see the whole show from here, don’t you, Giles?”
Giles said he did indeed
and once again offered Max the second beer before he drank it himself.
“There are the police
now. Thank you for your hospitality, Giles. I better go talk to them now.”
“I’ll go with you.”
Max looked puzzled.
“For moral support. You
never know what could happen. You need a witness when dealing with the law.
Believe me. I know that for a fact.”
Max shrugged and left
the house.
He approached the plain
clothes police officers who were standing on the driveway by now examining
Max’s car.
“Thank you for coming so
quickly,” Max said with his arm extended to shake hands. “I’m Max Winters. I
called about my daughter Daphne.”
“Mr. Winters, we looked
around a little and see no sign of any child’s party here. Are you sure this is
the right house?”
“Of course I’m sure.
Could I see some identification, please. Since you’re not in police uniforms
and your car looks like a regular car, you understand.”
“Of course, sorry. I’m
Detective John Hathorne. This is Officer Mercy Lewis. You reported that you
came here to pick up your daughter after her friend’s birthday party, is that
right?”
“Yes, that’s right. I
dropped her off her a couple hours ago and then returned to bring her home. As
you can see, there’s no one here. Someone has taken my daughter somewhere and I
want your help to get her back.”
“I understand,”
Detective Hathorne replied. “We couldn’t find any proof of a party having taken
place here. Are you absolutely certain we’re at the right house?”
“Of course, I am. I live
only a few streets over. I know my own neighborhood for chrissakes!”
“Mr. Winters, have you
been contacted by anyone claiming to have your daughter?” It was Officer Lewis
who asked.
“No. I haven’t been back
home. After coming back here and finding an empty house I went to the
neighbor’s house across the street to call 9-1-1.”
“I can attest to that,”
Giles chimed in.
“And you are?” the
detective asked.
“I’m Giles Corey. The
neighbor across the street with the phone.” Giles thrust out his hand. “Nice to
make your acquaintances, I’m sure.”
“Mr. Corey, did you
happen to notice a child’s party going on? Other people dropping off their
kids?”
“No, can’t say that I
did. I’ve been home all day. Well, except for a quick trip to the liquor store
to buy beer. Other than that though I’ve been here the entire time. The only
ruckus I witnessed was when Max pulled into the driveway there like a bat outta
hell and almost crashed through that garage door there. And then he was
pounding on the door and shouting some names. That’s when I come out and tried
to help him.”
“Giles, really, the
police don’t want to know―.”
“That’s all right, Mr.
Winters. Let’s hear what the man has to say. Continue, Mr. Corey,” the
detective said. “Mr. Winters was shouting names, you said? Do you know who he
was calling for?”
“One name was Daphne.
That I found out is the name of his little girl. There other one was Clarice. I
don’t know who she is. Never heard of her before.”
“Clarice is the woman
who lives, lived in that house. The party was for Clarice’s daughter Clarice.”
“You do know, Mr.
Winters, this house is vacant? There’s a for sale sign right over there.”
“Yes, I see the sign
now, but it wasn’t there when I brought my little girl to the party. Like I
told the reporter, I had met Clarice several times before. I wasn’t handing my
daughter over to a stranger.”
“Wait a minute. You’ve
spoken to the press before you even notified the police department?” Officer
Lewis wanted to know.
“The bitch ambushed him
when he―.”
“It’s okay, Giles. Let
me tell the police what happened.”
“Giles? So you two are
friends?”
“No. I met him just now
when he offered to let me use his phone to call you.”
“I see,” the detective
said as he wrote someone in his notebook.
“Mrs. Danvers―.”
“Who’s this Mrs.
Danvers,” Officer Lewis asked.
“I think we’ve talked
too much out here in the street. I think we should go to the precinct and
finish our conversation there, Mr. Winters. You can ride with us if you want to
leave your car parked where it is.”
“I’ll drive myself, if
it’s all right with you. I’ll meet you there. No reason to leave my car parked
in someone else’s driveway.”
“No one lives there to
mind one bit,” Giles said. “But that’s your call. I’ll just lock up and ride
with you, Max.”
“That won’t be
necessary, Mr. Corey. Mr. Winters is simply going to finish telling us what we
need to know to begin our investigation. He’ll be home in no time.”
“You need a witness
who’s on your side, Max. You’ll want me with you,” Giles Corey said as he tried
to maneuver a place next to Max.
Officer Lewis blocked
his path. “Thank you Mr. Corey, but we may have some questions for you later
on. We can’t allow the pair of you to collaborate your stories right in front
of us. You go on home now. We know where to find you if we need you.”
“But, Max ―.”
“I’m fine, Giles.
There’s no need for you to trouble yourself any further on my behalf. Thank you
for letting me use your phone.”
Those who were going to
the precinct got into their respective cars and drove away while Giles watched
from his chair in the picture window. He picked up the phone and dialed. “He’s
on his way to the police station now.” He replaced the receiver into its place
on the old style desk style phone. He told himself he had earned another beer.
He agreed with himself and went to the kitchen to fetch it.
Meanwhile, Max realized
his shirt is soaked through with perspiration. The stress and anxiety of his
missing daughter, the reporter ambush, and now talking to the police was taking
a toll on his nerves. He thought he was coping, but apparently he was wrong.
Max hated to sweat. He hated how it felt as much as how it looked. Sweat made
people look like liars. Just ask Richard Nixon. Sweat cost him the debate with
Kennedy and ultimately the election. Almost as though his car had a mind of its
own and could read his thoughts, the car turned right onto the street where Max
lived. At least the car tried to take him home.
The street was blocked
by police cars, an ambulance, two fire trucks and the fire chief’s SUV. A
uniformed policeman stepped up to his car to say “You can’t come this way,
sir.”
Max pulled over to the
curb and got of out of the car. “I live on this street, officer. Which house is
on fire?”
“The fifth house from
the end on the other side of the street.”
“That’s my house!” Max replied.
“Sorry, sir. The fire
department is doing everything they can. You’ll have to stay back.”
Max debated with himself
about what to do next. That officer wasn’t going to let him get any closer.
There was nothing to do but wait. Should he go to the precinct as planned? At
least now his soaked through shirt was understandable of a man who’s daughter
is missing and whose house is burning to the ground. He returned to the car and
pulled a small notepad from the glove compartment. He wrote down his name and
phone number which he quickly crossed through and wrote his cellphone number.
There wasn’t any point in giving the man the phone to the house under the
circumstances.
“Shit!” The page tore
into instead of tearing off the pad. He wadded it up and tossed it to the
floor. He wrote the note again but without the earlier mistake. Everything
happens for a reason after all he cheered himself. The notepad easily
relinquished the second page. Max found the officer and handed him the note.
“Here’s my name and cellphone
number. I’m on my way to the precinct to meet with Detective Hathorne. Please
call me when the fire is out so I can try to salvage some of my things.”
“Will do, sir, but it
may be a while.”
With only a nod, Max
returned to his car and drove away. As he parked his car, Max saw Detective
Hathorne waiting in front.
“I was beginning to
think you had had an accident.”
“I was in a way. I
passed my house on the way here. Fire trucks filled the street. My house is on
fire.”
“How awful. No wonder
you were late. Do they have the fire under control?
“Controlled I think, but
not extinguished. The police officer guarding the street said he would call me
when I can go back to see if there is anything I can salvage. I mentioned I was
coming to see you. I also gave him my cell number.”
“Fine, fine. This
shouldn’t take long. I know you must be frazzled by the day you’re having.”
“I am. The house is
insure of course, but still, there’s the little irreplaceable things you
collect―.”
“There is that, Max. I
may call you Max? However, I was referring to your daughter’s disappearance
without a clue, or even any possible reliable witnesses. A house can be
replaced, but a little girl?”
“All the more reason I
hope to find a photograph of her and some of her toys and things. Those are the
things I referred to, Detective. I couldn’t care less about the rest of it, but
I have to save something for Daphne to have when she is found.” Max’s voice
trembled and his eyes welled up as he spoke.
Detective Hathorne was
about to say something when the door opened after a quick double knock. Officer
Lewis said, “Sorry to interrupt, sir, but could I speak with you a minute
outside?”
“Of course, Officer.
Sorry, Max. I‘ll be right back.” Detective Hawthorne stood up and was behind
the closed door before Max could think of a response.
A few minutes later
Detective Hathorne returned. His demeanor was a lot more serious. “Mr. Winters,
would you mind following me please? We need to continue our conversation in a
more accommodating setting.”
“Sure. It’s all the same
to me, Detective.” Max wondered what had changed, why he was now Mr. Winters
instead of Max. Somehow he knew he really didn’t really want to know the
answer, so he kept quiet.
The two men followed
Officer Lewis down a hallway and into a formal interrogation room. Max was
directed to a seat facing the requisite two-way mirror. The shirt that had
dried out began to stick to his back again.
“Are Alice and the Mad
Hatter on the other side there?” Max asked with a tone of forced cheerfulness.
“What?” Hathorne asked.
“Take a seat, Mr.
Winters,” Officer Lewis instructed.
Max promptly did as he
was told. He didn’t like this woman Lewis and tried very hard to not show it.
“Oh! I get it!” said
Hathorne. “You were referring to Alice and the Looking Glass. No, Mr. Winters,
I’m afraid this is not a fairytale no matter how much you may wish it to be.”
Max sat there and
wondered what was to happen next. Lewis and Hathorne stared at Max as though he
was expected to say something. So he did. “Have you found my daughter? Is that
why we’re here?”
The two stone faces on
the other side of the table maintained their silence.
“Is it bad news? Is
Daphne, is my little girl―?”
“Your daughter has been
found, Mr. Winters,” Detective Hathorne said while Officer Lewis scowled.
“Is she all right?”
“She’s a bit shaken up,
but she seems to be fine. She’s at the hospital now being examined.”
“Oh, thank God! Thank
God!” Max said with tears rolling down both cheeks. “Where was she? Where did
you find her? Was anyone with her?”
“You can cut the
grateful, happy father act, Mr. Winters,” Officer Lewis said. “You know where
we found her so why don’t you come clean and tell us the truth about how she
got there.” Officer Lewis spat her words like she was ridding her mouth of an
unpleasant taste.
“We found your daughter
in you basement, Mr. Winters. Do you want to continue the story from here?”
Hathorne asked.
“In my basement? How in
the hell did she get in the basement?”
“Are you really going to
continue this innocent act, Mr. Winters?” Officer Lewis accused.
“Innocent act? What act?
I’m happy you found her of course, especially ―. Wait. Was she in the fire? Is
that what you’re telling me?”
“Firefighters found her
once they had knocked down the flames.”
“But she is all right?
You said she is all right. She is all
right?
“She is fine as far as
we could tell without a thorough medical exam, Mr. Winters.” Officer Lewis
answered. “What we want you to tell us is why you had your daughter handcuffed
to a chair in your basement while you were running around telling everybody she
had been abducted. That’s the big question here, Mr. Winters.”
“Handcuffed? I don’t
know what you’re talking about! I swear to you I took Daphne to her friend’s
birthday party. When I went back she was gone and nobody around there knows
anything about anyone living in the house or the party. I’ve been worried sick.
And now you have the balls to sit here and accuse me of some kind of scam while
I kept my little girl handcuffed in my basement and set the house on fire? You
people must be out of your fucking minds!” Max stopped when he heard the f-word
fly out of his mouth. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t usually swear like that. I
apologize, Office Lewis, especially to you.”
“Save it, Mr. Winters,”
there was that knife edge tone again which Max could slap her for using to him.
“You know, Officer
Lewis, when someone is apologizing to you the least you could try to not be
such a bitch!” There. Max had finally told her what he thought about her.
“All right. Let’s cut
the name calling,” Hathorne said. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. Officer
Lewis, perhaps it would be better if you left the room. I see no point in you
two antagonizing each other. That’s not the reason we’re here.”
“Fine,” Officer Lewis
said as she stood up and left the room.
“Mr. Winters, let’s get
back to how your daughter ended up handcuffed in your basement.”
“Detective, I’ve already
told you. I don’t know.”
“Okay, Mr. Winters.
Let’s watch one of the videos we also recovered from the fire and you can tell
me about it.”
Hathorne stood and
walked over to a video monitor and pressed the play button. The video showed a
young girl sitting on a small chair.
“Is this your daughter,
Mr. Winters?”
“Yes. That’s Daphne.
What is this?
“Let’s see keep
watching. I think things will become clear to you as we go along.”
A man’s voice instructed
her to take off her shoes and socks. The girl began to cry. She said no. The
man told her if she did what she was told she could go outside and play
afterwards. So the girl removed her shoes and socks. Hathorne stopped the
video.
“I don’t think we need
to see any more to understand where this is going, do we, Mr. Winters? How long
have you been abusing your daughter, Mr. Winters?”
“I have never touched my
daughter, not like that.”
“Is that not your voice
we hear coaching her in the video?
“I will tell you again,
Detective Hathorne. I have never touched my daughter.”
“You just display her on
video and sell her online to men who get their rocks off with children, Mr.
Winters?”
“I want to call my
lawyer. I’m entitled to legal counsel. I’m not saying another word until my
lawyer is here.”
“Fine. I’m happy to
offer you one of our guest suites. Just answer me this: what is it with guys
like you who would trade anything for sex with a child?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“You have to know this
isn’t the only video we saved for you. You will go to prison for child sexual
abuse and maybe even arson.”
“Why would you guys even
think to look at some videos from a burned out house, Detective?”
“That so called crazy
wife of yours. She finally got someone to listen to her. She didn’t stab you in
your sleep as you claimed. She was protecting the little girl. She told us
about your movie business.”
“And you believe her?”
“Wouldn’t you if you
were me? You look tired, Mr. Winters. Let’s get you checked in so you can lie
down and get some rest.”
Two male officers entered
the room. One of them handcuffed Max as Hathorne advised Max Winters of his
rights. After being photographed and fingerprinted Max asked if he could wash
the ink off his fingers.
“The ink will wear off.
Besides, your cellmates will all have dirty fingers anyway,” Hathorne said.
Max was put into a cell
with three other men who seemed to take no notice of him. One of them pointed
to one of the lower bunks and told Max, “That one’s yours.” Max laid down
facing the wall.
“Hey, Mister Sociable!
Wha’ did ya do?” one asked.
“They say I set my house
on fire.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Know who did?”
“Sorry. I’m really
tired. I need some sleep,” Max replied without ever turning to face the other
men. He quickly drifted off to sleep.
“Did you really think no
one knew about you and your little jerk circle of friends, Max?” Rebecca asked.
“How could you do that
to a child, especially your own daughter, Mr. Winters?”
“Mrs. Danvers, I
wouldn’t do anything to harm Daphne. You know me, Mrs. Danvers. Do you really
think I would hurt her? This is all Rebecca’s insane accusations. We’ve all
somehow gotten trapped in her vengeful madness. I-I’m not what you think.”
“That’s what we’re all
discovering Max. You need to take some time for self examination. You need to
see your sin, repent and ask God’s forgiveness.” Clarice now had joined the
group. The same Clarice Rebecca envied for her beauty, her better husband, and
for Max’s affection was now one of his accusers.
“Clarice, you of all
people should know I am not guilty of this! We’ve taken our daughters on
outings together numerous times. Did you ever see anything that would make you
join forces with Rebecca to punish me?”
“You really out to
confess your sin, Max. God can’t forgive you if you don’t acknowledge what you
have done,” Rebecca said.
“And if I don’t?”
“If you don’t, we all
have knives. Show Max your knives everyone.” Rebecca, Clarice, and Mrs. Danvers
displayed their weapons. “We will kill you right here.”
“If I confess I’ll go to
prison. You’re not giving me any choice.”
“It’s more of a choice
than you ever gave Daphne, Max. So what’s it going to be?”
“I cannot confess to
something I’m not guilty of.”
“Max, just say the words
and get it over with,” said Giles who had arrived late. The smell of alcohol on
his breath filled the room. “Confession is such a simple statement to make,
Max, and it’s good for the soul.”
“Mr. Winters, this is
the classic case of damned if you do and damned if you don’t. You’re getting to
chose how and when you die. Not many people get such an opportunity.”
“Mrs. Danvers, please be
reasonable here. You’ve been in my home. You’ve taken care of Daphne. Did she
ever even hint that I had hurt her?”
“Drop the act, Max,
please. You were willing to stage a kidnapping so you could go on television
and tell people how you don’t have any money for a ransom. You even rehearsed
tearing up with a brave face. You thought people would send you money to get
your little girl back. That’s you idea of a loving father?”
“Clarice, you’re
twisting what I said. I was only thinking out loud. You know what I’ve been up
against. Geez, Clarice! Help me out here. Don’t toss me an anchor and tell me
to swim! I can’t. No one can.”
“So we’re back to the
poor me’s, is that it, Max? You touched our daughter and filmed it. Your hands
are dirty, Max. You’ve made our daughter dirty.”
“We tried to purify her
with the fire, Mr. Winters, but some busybody call 9-1-1.”
“You? Mrs. Danvers? You
set my house on fire?”
“I told her to, Max.
While I’ve been away I’ve had nothing to occupy my time except writing letters.
I wrote to our friends and neighbors and told them all about you and your
filthy proclivities,” Rebeca announced with the pride of a master chess player.
“It took a few tries, but as you see, they eventually came around.”
“I can’t believe this.
I’m in an episode of the Twilight Zone! You’ve all gone mad.”
“Maxwell Winters, you
stand accused of the worst kind of sinful behavior with your daughter. Will you
confess your crimes and be forgiven by God and man? Or will you persist in your
lies which serve only to increase the magnitude of your wrongdoing?” Giles
asked as acting judge.
“I told you before. I
cannot and will not confess to something I didn’t do.”
“You have left us no
choice,” Giles replied. “Everyone raise your knives.”
Max woke to being pulled
off his bed onto the floor. He looked at his finger tips to see if the ink was
still on them. His fingers were clean. His relief led him to the mistaken
impression he had been dreaming and was now awake. He opened his eyes and saw
his cellmates standing over him. Metal glistened from their cocked fists.
“You lied, motherfucker.
You messed with your little girl. That’s why you’re in here. Here’s how we
clean scum outta our cell here.” All three of the men planted their weapons
into Max’s chest and stomach at once. The only sound Max made was like the air
being released from a yellow balloon that tried to pass itself off as the sun
one day at a party.
