Book Four - Part 8 - Rhyming Evil - Chapter Fifty-Eight
The Baker-Manning Home
111 Homestead Lane – 7:30 p.m.
“I swear, Ed; today was just a real honest-to-god, do nothing kind of day. And damn, it felt good.”
“When days like this one comes around, they do be special.”
“And we,” she said, squeezing his right hand, “have had our special days, too. I treasure each and every one of them.”
She kept silent a minute before making her subtle announcement.
“A Touch Of Grace is closing up shop and leaving Friday.”
“That’s kind of odd. They’ve only been here, what, about a month?”
“Pretty much. Grace Middleton Explained there were family issues she had to attend. Just a shame. They are doing so well, and the place has been nearly filled with people every day they've been opened. Grace did say they might be back again.”
“That would be nice. They sure didn't put a spark in this town.”
“There must have been another hundred people waiting to get in when they close their doors tonight. I’m betting they will be the first hundred in line tomorrow when they open.
“I’ve never seen anyone like her before. It’s as if she's a magician and just says, kazammy-whammy, appear now! And bingo, there is something new and exciting right before your very eyes.”
Ed chuckled.
“Wouldn’t it be something if we could all do a kazammy-whammy; then again, maybe not. Most magic tricks are just that, tricks. Whatever it is she and her sons do is an art form; something handed down to them from generation to generation.”
“No doubt, Ed. Enough. Anything good on TV tonight?”
“An oldie on Nick at Night. The Raven.”
“Intrigue, mystery, murder; all the things I want to stay away from tonight.”
Stevie snuck up behind them and said, “There is always the Cartoon Network. In ten minutes, it's a three-hour cartoon special with a grip of Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Porky Pig, Elmer Fudd, Tweety, and Sylvester, and who knows what else.”
“You making the popcorn this time, Bub?”
“No problem, mom.”
“So much for The Raven.”
“Don’t feel sad, Ed. Grab the remote. It’s time for some mindless laughter.”
1224 Clearfield Street – 7:55 p.m.
Lee started tracking Jerry Miller, George Lassiter, and Tracy McPherson. They were Freddy's most used aliases.
He was able to find photographs of all three men. All deceased. None of them over forty.
Freddy’s last known potential location: New York City, August 9th. Then he remembered what he found on Baker’s computer. Freddy had been inside the police station and left a head to be discovered. Somebody’s secretary in London, and something about him having to be somewhere in Asia.
Lee checked overseas papers and passports and couldn't find anything on a professional hit on anyone important. Either it hasn't yet been done or he used the word Asia, to throw Baker off his trail.
As he scanned various newspapers, Lee did catch a small two-paragraph report of a man found in his apartment, penis cut away, throat slashed, and dozens of photographs were found of young boys and girls scattered all over the apartment. Apparently, according to a letter written by the deceased, many of the children pictured, he had sold into slavery.
“Freddy, you aren't fooling me.”
He hacked into each major airlines computer system that flew into Tokyo between August 9th and the 11th. He had a listing of every ticket sold, either one way or round trip and found one name he recognized. Tracy McPherson.
Lee looked at his world map, grabbed a green pushpin and stuck it in Tokyo. Green was for personals. Red was for contract kills.
Thus far, Lee still couldn't get a real pattern as in destination and not every one of Freddy’s aliases would show up online when he made a kill. It was as if he flew himself from place to place at times.
Lee did see on the map a large gap from China, India, Iran, and Iraq. Plus, there were no hits in Africa. Was that odd? Or on purpose?
“Freddy, I’ll have you figured out soon enough. Then I’m coming after you.”