The Pastor’s Daughter: Episode V

I quickly rushed downstairs to see if there’s any way I could help.  On getting there, I couldn’t believe what I saw. I dropped the camera case I was holding and squatted down to look at her. I was getting sick on my stomach. Obviously, someone threw her out of the window and her hair was caked with thick and congealed blood. Or, was it an accident? She probably hit the hard floor with her head.  I instantly knew I was too late. She had to be dead. If somebody actually pushed her out of the window, then there was no way she could survive that fall nor lie the way she was lying, and not be dead.

“Brittany!”  I  shouted, too scared to touch her.

I could not help wondering how long she had been lying down there. There is a high possibility that she might have been dead for hours. The best thing to do at this point, I told myself, would be to get help. I could call the police using the telephone in the house. I stood up, started to walk back to the house and then came to an abrupt stop. The police! Am I that crazy? Calling the police now will be a big blunder. If I call the police now, it won’t take them long to find out the truth about Brittany and I. Once I call the police, the whole crazy story that we planned to spend two weeks together here would come out. And it wouldn’t take long for the bad news to reach Reverend Waters. I suddenly realized that I was really in a hell of a jam.

 This was it! I had known all this while that it was a mistake to get involved with Brittany. I  had known at the back of my mind that flirting  with her means walking into trouble voluntarily. Now here I am. I started to imagine the type of expression that would come to Reverend Water’s face when he heard the news that Brittany and I planned a vacation together, and that she fell down to her death. I had no doubt in my mind he would conclude that we were lovers. And I won’t be surprised if he think I had got tired of her and had decided to get rid of her by pushing her through the window, to make it look like an accident. This thought really shook me when I realized the possibility that the police might think so too.

To the best of my knowledge, no one had seen her fall. It would be difficult for me to prove the exact time I had arrived here. The time I came out of the crowded train at the Atlantic City Rail Terminal, I was just one among a hundred other travelers. Even though I left my bags with the station clerk at the left luggage office, it wasn’t likely he would remember me since he normally see different faces every hour of the day. Besides, I couldn’t recall meeting anyone on the long walk from the train station to this place so nobody will remember seeing me. Since a lot depended on the time Brittany died, it would be hard for the police to pin it on me. However, if her fall occurred within an hour or so of my arrival, which I doubt, then I will really be in a bad position. The police will simply put two and two together and conclude that it was me who threw her down from the window.

By now I was shaking uncontrollably. What will I do? Oh my God! At last I decided that the best thing to do now is to get as far away from here as I could without being seen. I stumbled over Brittany’s camera case that I dropped earlier as I turned to make my way to the gate. I picked it up, hesitated, then made to take it back to the house, but stopped in time. It will be too dangerous to make a mistake now. I knew that my fingerprints were on the case. Using my handkerchief, I wiped the case over carefully. At the back of the house there was a path that goes from a narrow gate and led upwards to the wood at a hill. When I was satisfied I hadn’t left a trace of any of my prints, I followed that path and after I had walked for perhaps a little distance from the vacation house,  I threw it as far as I could into the nearby wood. Turning, I started moving swiftly back to path leading to the house.

By now it was getting dark. The sun, which looked like a great fiery ball, drenched the sky in a red glow. I kept on because I knew that in less than half an hour, everywhere would be dark. As I hurried along the path, I told myself that while it was bad to leave Brittany without informing the police, I just had to think of myself now. She is dead anyway and nothing can bring her back. By the time I reached the gate at the backyard, I started feeling better. I can think clearly now because I had gotten over the first shock of her death.

My mind kept telling me that if I consider myself a good citizen, I should call the police. If I tell them the truth, admit that we planned to spend two weeks here together and explain to them how I found her body, they might believe me. At least that was the gospel truth. But if I don’t, they would be justified in suspecting that I was her killer if by some chance they got on to me. If it were not for the new job at our Trenton office, this reasoning would have convinced me to make a clean breast of the whole event. The Trenton job is something that I covet so much. And I had no doubt on my mind that Reverend Waters will convince our company’s board to deny the job from me if he learned the truth. I would do the same if I were him: having someone who was fooling around with her daughter head an important branch of a company in which he was a board member won’t be a good idea. He may even blacklist me and, if he does, I will never get a newspaper job again in this part of the country. So the bottom line here is that I had everything to lose if I tell the police the truth. On the other hand, with some luck, there was a good chance I would get away with it if I kept quiet.

I told myself that there wasn’t really anything between Brittany and I. If  I was in love with her, it will be a different story. But I wasn’t. If you asked me, I would say that she had been more to blame than I. She had encouraged me and I was crazy enough to fall for this stupid, irresponsible impulse. It was her who made the whole arrangement to come down here for the vacation. Phorbus was indeed right: she was a practiced seductress. I will be a fool not to try and save myself from this woman who had a reputation for making trouble for men. It’s okay, I thought. I’ve got to establish an alibi for myself so as to make certain no one ever knows I’ve been here.

This line of reasoning helped to get my situation off my chest, so I calmed down. On reaching the backyard gate, I paused to look at my watch. My watch told me that the time was half-past eight. To Phorbus and Candace, I should be in Las Vegas by now. It won’t be possible at all for me to get to Las Vegas tonight. So if I really want to establish an alibi that would stick, I should go back to Middle River as fast as I can. I can get there by, say, three in the morning if luck is on my side. And if I’m that lucky, I can clear any suspicion by going to the office by daybreak and tell them I changed my mind about going to Las Vegas; and that I decided to finish the book I was writing about Henry Ford.

I hoped this alibi would be a strong one. At that moment, it was the best I could think of. There was a little problem though. One thing is certain:  it would be impossible for the police to prove that I hadn’t spent all day in my apartment. After all my car was packed there all day and night. However, it would be very easy for them to prove that I hadn’t been to Las Vegas.

I should have come with my car! I told myself that if I had brought my car, getting back to Middle River would have been a very simple matter. I didn’t dare take Brittany’s Mercedes convertible which was packed at the vacation house. I am convinced that the village maid whom Brittany had hired to be our housekeeper would know she had brought the car. And the police might jump to the conclusion that Brittany’s death hadn’t been accidental  if they found her car missing. I would have to walk back to the train station to get a train to Penn Station in Baltimore City. From there I can get a cab that would take me to my apartment in Middle River. I had no idea what time the last train left Atlantic City Rail Terminal  for Baltimore. But I was  concerned that by the time I had covered the distance from here to the train station, the last train would have gone. Thinking about it, I once again looked at Brittany’s Mercedes convertible. It was really a challenge to fight back the temptation to take it. But I warned myself that no matter how strong this temptation is, it would be best not to complicate my predicament more than it was already.

Moving around the car towards the drive, I decided to take a last look at the house before I leave. What I saw made my heart to skip a bit. Someone was inside the house! I say this because I saw a flashlight that appeared from within the lounge. Did this intruder saw me when I entered the house the first time? This is not really the right time to worry about this. With my heart hammering on my chest, I moved swiftly and crouched down a shrub, some type of flower plant that is behind the car. Breathing hard, I stared at the lounge windows for a long moment and, sure enough, I saw the gleam of white light which immediately disappeared. I was sure that whoever is in that house was not the village maid that Brittany told me about. If it was her, she would have turned on the lights instead of creeping around like this in the dark. Whoever was there is obviously an intruder. Who then could this intruder be?

From the way the light was moving around the lounge, I came to the conclusion that this intruder was searching for something important. Out of mere curiosity, I was tempted to find out who it was. All I had to do is to creep in there and surprise him or her. Whoever it was, a sneak thief or something, it certainly wasn’t right for me to watch this individual moving around the room and do nothing about it. But I stopped myself on time. It would be too risky – this intruder may have a gun or a knife. Besides, since no one must know I had been to this house, I knew I had to keep out of sight.

The light finally went out after six minutes or so. There was a long pause, then I saw a tall figure of a man came through the front door of the house. Though it was  by now too dark to see more than his shadowy outline, I was sure he paused for a moment at the head of the stairs. Then he moved gently down the stairs, went over to Brittany’s Mercedes convertible, and looked inside. With his back turned to me, he turned on his flashlight. From where I was crouched behind the shrub, I could see he was a big man with very broad shoulders. He was wearing a hat and, since his back was turned to me and it was dark anyway, I could not make his face. I was glad about one thing though: this man looked big and strong enough to more than take care of himself. So it was a  good thing that  I hadn’t gone in there to surprise him as I earlier planned to do.

 Soon he turned off his light and moved away from the car. Since I expected him to come towards me and make for the exit at the bottom of the drive, I crouched down more. I was relieved when I saw him walk swiftly and silently across the lawn towards the gate at backyard of the house. I just managed to see him disappear in the darkness.

I stared after him, feeling puzzled and uneasy. But soon I realized that time was passing fast. If I want to get back to Middle River tonight, I must make my move now. So I left my hiding place, walked through the short gate and on to the road.

All the way to the Atlantic City Rail Terminal  station,  I puzzled about this intruder. Was he a friend of Brittany, or was he just a sneak thief? Of course I couldn’t answer these questions with certainty. At least he did not see me; nobody saw me anyway. That thought gave me some comfort.

By the time I reached the Atlantic City Rail Terminal  station it was already ten minutes past ten o’clock. Unfortunately for me, I missed the last train to Baltimore City – I was told  at the station that the train left ten minutes early. They also told me that if I can get to Absecon - the neighboring town – I might get a connecting train from Absecon Station to Baltimore. I glanced at my watch. I had five minutes over the hour to get somehow to Absecon. I quickly got my bags from the left-luggage office. I made sure I kept my head bent to prevent the clerk at the office from getting a good look at me. I then went out into the dark  station yard where I spotted a lone taxi. I opened the door and got into the cab.

“Hello sir” he said.

“Hello,” I replied, “If you can get me to Absecon station before eleven fifteen, I’ll give you a double fare plus five dollars tip.”

That was a large amount of money in those days.

That was all I needed to say, and I knew he will grab the offer. But I never knew how mad and wild this driver was. As soon as I made this offer, he stiffened to attention, sank his thumb into the starter button, threw in his clutch  and the car screeched out of the station yard in two wheels. The road out of Atlantic  City  for the first five miles or so was not only shaped like a coiled snake but was also congested at the time. But this cab driver went along this road as if it were as straight as a foot rule. While he was speeding through this road, he kept his hand on his horn and his headlights gave warnings of his coming. I sat tight, closed my eyes and prayed. But I did open my eyes sometimes to look at my watch, and there were moments when I thought my last hour had arrived. It was really a miracle that we avoided a collision. But once we had passed this path of the trip, it was plain sailing and as this cab driver kept roaring, snarling almost seventy miles an hour, I could relaxed a little.

The crucial moment of the trip was when we got into the outskirts of Absecon at five minutes to eleven. I said this because the traffic of Absecon at this time is always, for some reasons I could not explain, notoriously heavy and slow.  It was then that I concluded that this cab driver was either a demented lunatic or, perhaps, he had no girlfriend or wife or anyone who will miss him if he died in a car crash due to reckless driving. The way he cut through the traffic reminded me of how a hot knife slices through  butter. With his ferocious ruthlessness, this man was able to intimidate other drivers on the road, and the whole trip to the station was punctuated by the honking of horns, the yells of fury and the screaming of tortured tires.  And the fact that we weren’t stopped by the police probably meant that the cab was out of sight before they could even make any move.

The good thing, though, is that we arrived at Absecon station on time without crashing. When we got there, it was five minutes past eleven. I shoved a handful of dollars into the driver’s hand. “You were terrific” I said.

I knew he will not recognize me again because the interior of the cab was dark and I had my heart pulled well down my eyes. Grabbing my bags, I sprinted into the station and bought a ticket to Baltimore. Five minutes later, I was on my way to Penn Station, Baltimore City, as the lights of Absecon  faded in the distance.

END OF EPISODE V

P.S. Episode Six will be published here next Monday. 

The Pastor's Daughter: Episode IV

I

As a guy who like sure things, I decided to make a last call at the office in the morning to see if there were any personal letters for me before catching the train to Ocean City. Phorbus was out, but I found Candace sorting through a stack of mails.

          Sitting on the edge of her desk, I said, “Anything for me Candace?”

“No,” she said, “You don’t have any personal letters and I believe Phorbus can handle all these. You told me  you wanted to leave early. If that’s still in your plan, shouldn’t you be on your way?”

“I have plenty of time,” I said, looking at my wrist watch.

Since my train to Atlantic city will leave by noon, I was convinced that it is not necessary to be in a haste. In any case, I often forget things each time I’m in a hurry, so why bother? I had told Candace I was going to Las Vegas and had had trouble in preventing her booking a seat for me on the Baltimore’s Penn Station-Las Vegas line.

As we sat there talking the office phone rang and she picked up the receiver.

“Middle River Times, Candace Lateef. May I know who’s speaking?” Candace said. “Mrs. who? Will you hold on a moment? Let me find out if he’s in.” She looked at me, frowning and I could see that she is definitely puzzled. “A Mrs. Reed is asking for you.”

I almost told Candace that I didn’t want to speak to her since I don’t recall knowing  who she was when the slightly familiar sounding name suddenly set off an alarm bell in my  mind. Mrs. Graham Reed! That’s the same name Brittany had said she used when renting the vacation house in Atlantic City. I can’t believe it was her calling my office. Is she that reckless?

To avoid raising any suspicion from Candace and also to hide my anger, I reached forward and took the receiver from her hand. I made sure I turned my back to Candace so she couldn’t watch my face. Then I said, “Hello. Who am I speaking to?”

“Hello Harry” I was right – it was Brittany all right. “Sorry to surprise you like this. I know you won’t like me to call your office, but I tried your apartment but I could only get your voicemail.”

Remember, this was in the 1970s, when there was no cell phones, the internet or emails. People communicate using landlines, letters and telegrams. That’s why she could only reach me with my house phone or my office phone.

Anyway, if Candace wasn’t there, I would have told her that she was crazy to call me here. And because Candace would wonder what it was all about if I hung up angrily, I decided to stay calm and talk to her.

“So, what do you need?” I said.

“Is there someone in your office?”

“Yes.”

          At that very moment, the office door jerked open and Phorbus Taylor breezed in.

“Jesus H. Christ! You still here?” he exclaimed when he saw me. “I would be on my way to Las Vegas by now if I were you.”

I waved him to silence and said into the mouthpiece, “So what can I do for you?”

“Nothing really,” she said, “Just want to make sure you are coming as we planned.”

“Sure, I will,” I replied.

“I can’t wait to see you sweetie! I’m sure you will like it down here…”

Knowing that Phorbus may be listening, I  felt that the best way to prevent her low clear voice from reaching him is to end the conversation.

“Sure. Goodbye for now” I said and hung up.

I was right: Phorbus was staring inquisitively at me.

“That was pretty abrupt,” he said. “I could have bet my life that you don’t treat your lady callers like that”.

I was aware that Candace was also staring at me, puzzled, and as I moved away from the desk, I tried as much as I could not to show them how rattled I was. In the effort to hide my confusion, I smiled to him and said, “ I guess I’ll be on my way to Las Vegas now. I just stopped by to see if there were any personal mails for me.”

“Take it easy brother,” Phorbus said. “I know you were not up to some form of mischief even though your facial expression says otherwise. Or are you?”

“Aw common Phorbus!” I said, trying to restrain the snap in my voice. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Relax my friend,” he said. “Your vacation starts today. Don’t spoil it by getting sour. I was only kidding.” And when I didn’t say anything, he went on, “Are you taking your car with you?”

“No” I replied, “I will use the train.”

“You shouldn’t take this kind of vacation alone,” he said, looking slyly at me. “If I were you, I should go with a sexy lady to keep me warm when it rains.”

“Unfortunately I will be travelling alone. You are really something Phorbus!” I said, going over to Candace.

“A guy have needs, you know that,” he said.

“Look after this crazy guy,” I said to Candace. “ Make sure he stays on the line, and don’t work too hard yourself. I will see you soon.”

“Enjoy yourself Harry,” she said. “We will be fine. So don’t worry about us.”

She wasn’t looking happy and that worries me.

“I believe you will.”

I turned to Phorbus and said, “So long and you be a good boy now, you hear?”

“I promise to stay out of trouble” he replied.

I left them and going down the elevator to the street level, I called a cab. I told the driver to take me to my apartment. There I collected my luggage and took another cab to Penn Station in downtown Baltimore City.

At the station, I bought a ticket to Atlantic City, checked that the train wasn’t in yet, and went to the newspaper stand where I bought the Baltimore Sun. All the time I was at the train station, I was keeping my eyes open for any familiar face. I just don’t want anybody I know to see me. As a newspaperman, I have many friends in the Baltimore region. So there is a high chance that someone I know might appear at any moment. And if that happens, tales might get back to Phorbus and Candace that instead of catching a morning train to Las Vegas, I was seen boarding a noon  train to Atlantic City. That may raise suspicions, and it’s the last thing I wish to happen at this point.

As I had a few minutes to wait before my train shows up, I sat down at one of the benches at the station, away in a corner, and read the newspaper. I made sure I sheltered my face behind its open pages. Those few minutes of waiting were really fidgety ones for me. Eventually my train showed up and I managed to get a seat and settled down once more behind my newspaper. So far I hadn’t run into anyone I knew, which was not bad.

I began to relax as soon as the train moved out of the station. So far all was going well, even though I kept telling myself that a girl like Brittany who fooled around with a man like Aquiles Gomez just couldn’t be my type.

II

My train arrived at Atlantic City Rail Terminal  about ten minutes late. It took me another five minutes to work my way past the barrier and out into the station approach where a line of cabs waited to be hired because the train was pretty crowded. I thought that Brittany would be waiting somewhere around the corner for me by now. But as I stood in the sunshine holding my bag there was no sign of her. I put down my bag, waved away an eager cab driver who wanted to conduct me to his cab,  and lit a cigarette.

From the way Brittany sounded on the phone, I was surprised she wasn’t there to meet me by now. I leaned against the station wall and waited, thinking that since my train was late, she might have gone to look at the shops to pass time. Soon the crowd pouring out of the station slowly disappeared. Some of them hired cabs, some walked away while some were met by friends. I began to get impatient when, after perhaps twenty minutes had passed, there was still no sign of Brittany and I was the only one left.

She may be sitting in one of the restaurants around this area, I thought. I took my bag to the left luggage office, where I dumped it. Since I am now relieved of its weight, I wondered down the street looking for Brittany. I checked a car park around the corner but couldn’t see any car that could be Brittany’s. I went into one of the restaurants in that area, sat down at a table and ordered a tuna sandwich and ice tea. From my table I can see all the cars and peoples that approach or leave the station.

I looked at my watch. The time is almost four-thirty. I finished my sandwich, drank my iced tea, and then, bored with waiting, I asked the waiter if I could use their telephone. Using the telephone directory at the restaurant, I called the number of the vacation house in South New York Avenue. The phone rang but no one answered.

This was a complete disappointment.

My mind told me that Brittany may have forgotten the arrival time of my train and perhaps had only just left the vacation house to pick me up at the station. All I need to do is to exercise some patience and wait for her. So I sat down again and waited. But the more time I spent waiting the more irritated and uneasy I  became.  After waiting for about forty minutes, I decided to walk towards the vacation house in the hope that I would meet her as she drove down. From the address and explanations she gave me about the location of the house, I believe it should be a few miles down the road from here. Besides, there was no chance of missing her since there was only one road to the house. So, without much qualm I set off on the long walk towards the vacation house.

At that time, there were very few houses in the neighborhoods closest to the boardwalk. After walking for about two miles along this road, I arrived at a side road that would take me off the main road and down  the road to South New York Avenue where the vacation house is located. Soon I arrived at the vacation house at around six-thirty, and there was still no sign of Brittany.

The vacation house was as lovely and exciting as Brittany said it was. It was a two-storeyd building. However, since my one thought then was to find Brittany, I wasn’t in the mood to appreciate beauty. One thing I did notice was that the vacation house stood in its own grounds with no other house within sight. Behind the house is the waters, which I guess is the Ocean. I pushed open the wooden gates and walked up the broad drive, bordered on either side by beautiful flowers. Following the drive I came up to a fancy tarmac on which stood Brittany’s Mercedes convertible. I noticed that the ground around the building itself was made with reinforced concrete. Anyway, I heaved a sigh of relief. At least I didn’t miss her while coming up the road, I thought, as soon as I saw her car.

The front door of the vacation house was ajar so I pushed it open.

“Brittany! I’m home!”

The silence that greeted me had a depressing effect on me. I walked gently into a large hall with marbled floor. I wished I had brought my bag with me.

“Brittany! Where are you?”

Again, there was silence.

To be fair, the vacation house was really modern and nice. If Brittany had been there to greet me, I would have been thrilled with it because it  is an ideal place for a vacation. It is well furnished and has a large lounge with a dining-room alcove, a kitchen and a big patio that overlooked the ocean. I decided to go upstairs to look for her, even though my mind kept telling me that she may not be there. But where else could she be? As no answer came to my repeated calls for her, I became more worried as I climbed the stairs. I went all the way to the second floor.

I did not see her in the first rooms I entered on getting upstairs. I decided I wasn’t going to sit around in the house in the hope that she would turn up. I might as well go back to the train station to at least get my bag.  I was convinced that I couldn’t have missed her on the walk down here from the train station. There was a chance she had gone for a walk along the path that led upwards to the top of the a small hill that rose above the vacation house. She definitely must have forgotten the arrival time of my train. The best thing to do at this point is to leave a note in case she is somewhere around the neighborhood and I had somehow missed her. The worst that can happen is that she will see the note and rush to the train station to pick me up.

I scribbled a brief note on some headed notepaper I found in one of the drawers in the room upstairs. I left the note on the table and decided to look out of the window. I discovered that there was another vacation house built in the hill face. I couldn’t understand why anyone would decide to build a vacation house in such an inaccessible place. From the way the house looked, I came to the conclusion that the only practical way of reaching it was by the Ocean.

As I was about to go downstairs I saw something that get me more confused: lying by the entrance door of the room was Brittany’s Cine Camera case. I can’t believe I missed it when I entered the room.  I, however, recognized it immediately and, for a long moment, I stared at it. I had no doubt in my mind that it was hers for when I picked it up, I noticed that her initials on the cover flap in gold. I became concerned when I discovered that the case was empty.

Holding the case on my hand, I rushed back to the window. Brittany has to be somewhere around here! On getting to the window I looked down the ground. That was when I discovered that the backyard of the building was also constructed and designed with fancy rocks, forming  a very beautiful but hard surface.  As I looked down  hard my heart skipped a bit as I saw a body of a woman lying sprawled on the rocky and hard ground motionless. Did she fell down from the window or what? I kept looking at her motionless body, transfixed and with my heart thudding. Blood was showing all over her face.

I found it unnecessary to make wild   guesses: the dead woman down there was no other person than Brittany. Oh my God!

END OF EPISODE IV

P.S. Episode Five will be published here next Monday. 

The Pastor's Daughter: Episode III

From my personal experience with women, I had come to conclude that a relationship with a woman like Brittany  is like food in a microwave: it can turn from lukewarm to scalding hot in a matter of a few days. That is how I feel now. The following days I busied myself preparing for my trip to Atlantic  City. But I was facing a little problem: Even though I had a lot to do before leaving for Atlantic City, I was having great difficulty concentrating in what I was doing. Sometimes, I even felt nervous each time I remember that I will spend two weeks alone with this exciting girl. Who knows, she might decide to come with me to Las Vegas after that. I felt like a young boy looking forward to his first date. The good voice on my mind kept telling me that I was crazy to go ahead with this plan. But like most men, I was hooked:  Brittany’s beauty really got me going. She told me she was careful when she was making the plan. Nobody will recognize us there, she said. And to tell you the truth, I believed her. She was offering me herself and I would be a fool if I didn’t grab this chance. What about Reverend Waters? Again, Who cares? After all he’s having a time of his life in Paris. He won’t know what Brittany and I are doing down here.  Paris is almost 3,800 miles from Atlantic City. I don’t know anyone who can see that far.

            Now, before leaving for my vacation, I had to smoothen the ground for Phorbus Taylor who will take over the office in my absence. He was a sound newspaper man - I guess I can give him that. I had worked alongside him way back in 1971, when I was freelancing for this newspaper house. While he was good in gathering news stories for publication, I don’t think he had much talent for anything else. You may call me a jealous man if you like, but I think he was too good looking and too well – dressed for my liking. And I don’t think he liked me either. But we must be professional with each other. So I decided to give him a big welcome when he arrived. I suggested we should have a dinner together after we had spent a couple of hours in the office going over future writing projects.

“That will be great Harry,” he said. “I will like to know what this sleepy town  has to offer. I must warn you though, I eat a lot and I may burn a hole in your pocket.”

            I took him to Idle Hour  which is one of the best restaurants in Middle River at the time, and gave him two large Clubhouse Grille sandwiches, which is warm ham, thick-cut turkey breast,  melted cheddar and jack cheese with bacon, lettuce, tomato, mayo, and a drizzle of their signature honey barbeque sauce on toasted  Tuscan bread. From the expression on his face, I was convinced that he enjoyed the meal.

            After we had eaten and had got on to the third jugs of coffee, he became very friendly and talkative at the same time.

“You know Harry,” he said, “I envy you sometimes. Everybody in this firm likes you. You are in Shabray’s good book. He seems to like every story you publish here. Now, this is off the record: you didn’t hear this from me, okay? In a couple of months, he’s going to give you a bump. His plan is for me to replace you here and you will be in charge of our new office in Trenton.

“Are you sure about this,” I said, staring at him. “I know you are just cracking jokes.”

“No, I’m not. It doesn’t make any sense to joke about something like that.”

            Actually I was surprised and  excited to hear this good news from him, but I tried very hard not to show it. To be in charge of our operation in Trenton City was the top of my ambition because it means a fat salary and  being in that position  can catapult me into almost a celebrity status. It was also a plum job of all the jobs on the Trenton Tribune, which is the holding company of Middle River Times at the time.

“If you don’t believe me now, you will in a couple of weeks when it will be official,” Phorbus told me. “If I were you, I will buy a bottle of champagne for Reverend Waters. He gave you a very strong recommendation, and Shabray swallowed it hook, line and sinker. To him any word from that Reverend is gospel truth. You don’t know how lucky you are my good friend.”

I said that if what he is telling me now is true, then I am definitely the luckiest man in the world.

“I know you are very attached to Middle River,” he said. “I mean, it seems to be a nice place. Will you mind moving to Trenton City?”

“For a job like that, I won’t mind moving,” I replied. “I will eventually get used to living in the city, you know.”

He shrugged.

“That kind of job is not for me – too much responsibility,” he said. “You go ahead and take it Harry. I will be good at Middle River Times.”

“I’m sure you will have a good time here.”

He sank lower in his chair, and then said, “May I ask you  a personal question?”

I nodded.

“Yes, sure,” I said.

“How are you managing with Brittany?”

I was surprised he asked me that question. He was the last person I expect to ask me about her.

“Who?”

“Brittany Waters. I learnt you are her ‘chaperone’, right or wrong?”

The red light on my mind went up. Like I said earlier, I had worked alongside Phorbus way back in 1971 and I know he had a nose for scandal. If he got the faintest suspicion that Brittany and I have something going on, I will be in serious trouble because he will work at it until he got the full story. So I must be very careful here, I told myself.

“Well,” I said, “I was her ‘chaperone’ just for one day. That’s all. I’ve scarcely seen her since then.  Reverend Waters asked me to pick her up from BWI Airport and take her to their house at Victory Villa. She might be studying or doing some part-time job, I believe.”

He raised   his eyebrows.

“She’s doing what?”

“Doing some part-time job, or studying,” I said. “Why are you surprised?”

“Brittany doing some part-time job and studying?” He leaned forward, stared at me in disbelief, and then burst out laughing aloud. The people in the restaurant turned around to stare at us. I felt a little bit embarrassed.

“What?” I said.

When he got over laughing, he waved an apologetic hand probably because he saw I wasn’t at all amused. He made an effort to control himself and then said, “Sorry Harry. If you know Brittany the way I do, you will do the same yourself. Brittany working…” He broke off and started laughing again.

I was mad this time.

“Look my good friend,” I said. “I think it will be fair to both of us if you can tell me what everybody but me seems to know about this girl. This is really not funny.”

“It is actually funny Harry,” he said. “Just wait till I finish my story. Frankly, I’m surprised that she hasn’t taken you in too. As a matter of fact, it seems that the only guy who knows her family connections with this company and who isn’t on to her yet  is you. You must really be a strong-willed person if you haven’t got her tapped yet.”

“Can you be more specific because I’m not really following this,” I said.

“Well, obviously you haven’t seen much of her,” he said. “Because I can bet that she will definitely fall for a big, husky man like you. She always fall for your type. Don’t tell me she showed up at the BWI airport in her usual horn-rimmed glasses, washed out blue jeans, a T-shirt  and flat-heeled shoes?”

“Listen Phorbus, either you give me her story or you change the subject,” I said. “There’s no point in keeping me hanging here.”

He grinned, and said, “You are really luckier than I thought possible, or simply unlucky, depending on how you see it. Everybody in Trenton knows about Brittany, especially since she is Reverend Waters daughter. Reverend Waters, as you know, is also well connected to the powers-that-be in Trenton, and he practically owns and controls  this company after his brother’s death. Anyway, Brittany was notorious in Trenton. When rumors had it that she is heading for Middle River and the Reverend wanted you to keep an eye on her, we all thought that sooner or latter she will get you hooked to her. I tell you Harry, Brittany will make a play at anything in trousers so long as he has your physique, believe me. So you mean she hasn’t made even a pass at you? I’m really surprised!”

I started to sweat.

“This is really an interesting news for me,” I said.

“Harry, Brittany’s mission in life is money and this makes her a menace to men,” he began. “And that’s the part I couldn’t understand because her father is a millionaire with high level political connections. I mean he can get her any high-level job if she wants. As you know, she has everything that can make a man’s head spin: she has good looks, seductive come-on eyes and a shape that can make even a priest to misbehave. But the trouble she can get a guy into? Oh Madonna! To tell you the truth, minus Reverend Waters’ strong connection with the press, she would have been in the headlines of every newspaper in Trenton, at least once a week. It seems that, for some reasons,  most newspaper chiefs in the city felt that they owe something to the Reverend Waters. And she escapes publicity because no newspaper in the city wants to upset the old man. And I’m not exaggerating.”

“Wow!” I said. “This information is too much to process. Lets take it one after the other.”

“Isn’t it?” he continued. “Do you know that she was cleared out of Trenton and sent down here because she was involved in the Aquiles Gomez’s  murder?”

By now, I was really alarmed by what I’m hearing. Almost everybody in America knows Aquiles. He had  been a notorious mobster in Trenton. He was very wealthy, very powerful and had been a one-time killer. That Brittany was affiliated with this gangster who was hooked up with the Union and vice rackets is really a bad news to me.

“She was involved in Aquiles’ murder? Are you sure about this?”

“I’m so sure that I can bet on it,” he said. “The word on the street is that she was his girl. Rumor had it he was knocked off in her apartment in Trenton.”

I sat very still, staring at him in disbelief.

According to newspaper reports, Aquiles was brutally murdered in a two-room apartment he was  using as his love nest. The police could not trace the woman he was visiting who mysteriously disappeared. They could not trace his killer either. It was generally thought that it was Vito Roselli, a rival Italian gangster, who gave the order to slay Aquiles. Vito himself had been deported to Italy on drug trafficking charges.

“You seem  to be well-informed about this,” I said. “Who’s your source?”

“Groppelli broke the news to us. And we all believed him because he always knows what he is talking about. If he was wrong this time, I don’t know. But all I can tell you is that Brittany was always going around with Aquiles. She left for here soon after he was killed. Groppelli interviewed the janitor of the apartment block in which Aquiles was strangled. It was this janitor who gave him a pretty good description of the lady in this case. And the description he provided is a carbon copy of Brittany. Luckily for Reverend Waters, our people were able to close the janitor’s mouth before the police got to him, which explained why this part of the story never came out.”

“You guys did a pretty good job of it I can see,” I said.

“Well, looks like you don’t have any bad story to tell me about her while she’s here,” he said disappointingly. “You know what that tells me? She has finally had a scare and is at last behaving herself. Now this is between you and me: I thought I might have a try at her myself when I heard I was going to take your place here. She is really seductive. As you were told to look after her, I was hoping that you will smoothen the journey for me since by now you and her will be more than old friends, you know. See how disappointed I am?”

I grinned.

“You really have a low opinion of me,” I said. “Do you really imagine I will be fooling around with Reverend Waters’ daughter. Come on! He’s my benefactor for Christ’s sake!”

He looked at me  and said, “Why not? She’s worth fooling around with, just like every other sexy girl. And the good thing about her is that she’s so smart with this kind of things that she takes good care her dad will never find out. See? That girl has been messing around with men since she was fifteen, and her old man has never found out. Tell you the truth, if you haven’t seen her without her signature horn-rimmed glasses, washed out blue jeans, a yellow T-shirt  and flat-heeled shoes, then you haven’t seen anything. She is really terrific when she dresses up. And I won’t lie to you: I’m not going to stop her if she ever makes a play at me like she does to other men.”

With great difficulty, I was able to get him off the subject of Brittany so   that we can talk business. Finally, we decided it’s time to take him back to his hotel after we spent another hour talking. He thanked me for entertaining him and told me he would be in the office the following morning to tie up the loose ends.

“Now if you don’t mind me saying this again Harry,” he began as we were parting. “You are one of the luckiest guys I know. Being in charge of our Trenton Office is about the best job in this business. I know some guys who would give up their wives to have it. It’s not for the likes of me though – it’s too much hard work. But for you… if you can let a sexy girl like Brittany slip through your fingers, then you are level-headed enough to hold down the Trenton City office.”

I told him that we’ll wait and see.

“Thanks for the meal again Harry. I guess we will call it a day then” he said.

“Sure,” I replied.

We got  into my car and drove through the congested traffic until I reached his hotel. After I dropped him off at his hotel, we shook hands  and he slapped me on the back. And I  drove off, heading home.  During my drive home I did some hard thinking. I will be honest here: Phorbus really shocked me with this new information about Brittany. And I know he wasn’t lying. Groppelli is a well-respected reporter who is always accurate in any story he had to tell. So Brittany had been mixed up with Aquiles Gomez. Now who else was she mixed up with in Middle River? I know that for people like her, once they acquire that taste for dangerous racketeers in a city like Trenton, it is only natural that they would continue to cultivate the taste somewhere else. This probably explained her high style of living. I won’t be surprised if some moneybag is financing her here in Middle River.

            As I was getting ready to retire for the night, my mind was telling me that I should forget about getting on that train to Atlantic City. I kept asking myself if I really want to mix up with a girl like Brittany. If I really want that Trenton Office position, and I’m very sure Phorbus wouldn’t have broken the news unless he was certain of the facts, then  the best thing for me will be to avoid taking the slightest risk that would jeopardize that job or opportunity. Being in charge of our Trenton office was the plum job on the newspaper world. And I know very well that I will not only  lose the job but will also be out of the game for good if Reverend Waters found out that his daughter and I had become lovers.

“God forbid!” I said aloud as I turned off the light. “She can go to Atlantic City by herself. I will call her tomorrow and tell her I changed my mind. I will go to Las Vegas instead. She can find another sucker – not me!

            Of course I didn’t stuck to my decision because two days later I was on the train from Middle River to Atlantic City. Even though I was telling myself  that I was a fool and crazy in the head, I still felt that the train was not moving fast enough.

END OF EPISODE III

P.S. Episode Four will be published here next Monday. 

The Pastor’s Daughter: Episode II

I wished that my encounter with Brittany ended like that but, unfortunately it didn’t. I was only afraid of one thing: sooner or later a relationship between a man like myself and a girl like Brittany can become complicated. The more I tried to put her out my mind the more I failed. She was like a drug in my system. Even though back in my mind I knew I was inviting trouble, by then every trouble seem unreal  because I was hooked. So I kept telling myself – who cares?

While at my office the next day she was constantly in my mind. Of course I did not tell Candace that I had met Brittany at the party. But for some reason I caught her looking at me several times with a puzzled , inquiring expression. Am I that transparent to her?

By late afternoon  of that day I became very restless. I found I wasn’t concentrating on my job because I have got Brittany so much on my mind. When I returned to my apartment after work that day, I called her but there was no answer. I waited for about an hour and called again. This time I heard the receiver life and her voice said, “ Hello?”

“Hi  Brittany!” I said.  “This is Harry. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well Harry,” she replied. “How about you?”

“I’m actually feeling lonely,” I replied. “Would you mind coming out with me tomorrow night? We might have dinner at the Idle Hour restaurant”

“That sounds good,” she said. “ But I cannot manage tomorrow. I have another engagement tomorrow.”

I was surprised. This is someone I made love to just last night. I would have said it was too bad and hung up but I didn’t. She was always on my mind.

“So what other day are you free?”

“How about Saturday night? I’m free on Saturday.”

That was like four days ahead, but I don’t really care.

“So it’s a deal?”

“Sure it is,” she said. “However, I’d rather not go to the Idle Hour  in Victory Villa. Isn’t there another one in Baltimore City?”

That brought me to a sudden alert. She is definitely thinking about the danger of us been seen together. And frankly I don’t blame her. Like I said before, Victory Villa is a very small hamlet where everybody knows everybody. So gossip can travel fast.

“Sure. There’s one in Fells Point. We will go to that one,” I said.

“Perfect,” she said. “That would be lovely”

“I will pick you up by eight-thirty?”

“Sure,” she replied.

After making this appointment with Brittany, life didn’t mean much to me until Saturday evening. And Candace? She was so worried about me. I have been working with her for five years and  during this time frame I never snapped at her. But by this time I was short-tempered with her. With Brittany on my mind, concentration was a challenge and I couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for the job on hand.

Our dinner wasn’t bad at all. I can’t say I remembered what we ate because all I wanted to do was look at Brittany. She was so sexy. I was hoping she would invite me in to her house again when I took her home – to hell with Reverend Waters – but she didn’t. I had thought we would use this dinner to consolidate a new relationship but, in fact, it had made things worse. I just could not understand the sudden lack of interest in me. I promised myself that I would give her one more trial and, if it didn’t work, I will take  her off my mind. So, four days later, I called her again.

“I’m really busy Harry” she said, when I suggested we should go to the Bengies Drive-In movie theater together. “I can’t make it this time, and I am sorry.”

“No problem Brittany,” I said, disappointed. “In any case, I will be taking a four-week vacation next week. So I will see you again when I got back.”

“You are going away for four weeks?”

She sounded interested.

“Yes,” I replied. “I will be going down to Atlantic City, and from there to Las Vegas”

“So, who’s the lucky girl you are going with?”

“Actually I am going alone. I have…”

“Oh Harry, there’s someone at the door” she suddenly said. “I will call you back later” and she hung up. She never called. I waited for two days. On the third day, she rang my number just as I was about to call her.

“Please forgive me Harry,” she said as soon as I came on the line. “I’ve been meaning to call you but haven’t had the chance until today. Are you busy right now?”

I looked at my watch. It was forty-five minutes past midnight, and I was about to call it a night.

“Do you mean right now?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Not really. I was about to retire for the night.”

“Will you mind coming to my house? I will understand if you can’t make it.”

This is an opportunity I had been waiting for, so I did not hesitate at all.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes.”

Brittany is one girl that I just can’t understand. One minute she is crazy about me and the next minute she can’t stand me. To make sure no one would see me, I entered her house like a sneak thief. I found her in the lounge, sorting through a stack of cassettes. She was looking more sexy than the last time I saw her, and she knew it.

“So you are here, huh?” she said, putting the cassettes aside and smiling at me.

“Well, ‘Her Majesty’ called and here I am,” I said. “But Brittany, you know we shouldn’t be doing this in your house. This is the way to start real trouble.”

“You need to relax Harry” she replied.

“I am trying to,” I said. “ It will be better if we are in my house or somewhere else.  I mean it would be better and more respectful that way. I have to think of my job. You may not know it but your father is powerful in this town. I got my full-time job through his recommendation. He trusted me and I am not showing him the right respect and appreciation by fooling around with you in his own house. He would see to it that I never got another newspaper job in this town if he ever find out.”

She looked surprised.

“But are you really fooling around with me? Is that what you call being around me?”

“I’m sure you know what I mean Brittany,” I said.

“My father will not find out Harry. Why should he anyway?”

“Listen Brittany,” I patiently explained. “If people saw me coming here or leaving, they could tell him about it.”

“Then the solution is simple,” she laughed. “Just be careful so you won’t be seen.”

“Oh Brittany…”
“Oh stop it Harry,” she said. “And you know what? I’m getting tired of your complaints. You are not really romantic, I can see that. The other men I dated only think about me, not their jobs.”

“Well, you won.”

So I sat down while she went to their drinks cabinet.

“So what are you having this time?’’ she asked.

“A Champaign I guess.” I said.

Now I was alone with her again, I started to wonder why she had asked me to come at this time of night. With my job hanging on the consequences of being found out, I told myself I shouldn’t have come this night.

“Oh Harry, before I forget: would you look at this video camera and show me how to use it? I bought it today. I mean, I’m very good with video cameras, but this one is a little different.”

She waved to where the video camera was on the couch. I picked the camera up. It was a Bell and Howell 8mm Reflex Zoom Cine Camera with a case and power grip. Now, this was a very expensive video camera in those days. This particular one could cost a fortune.  It suddenly occurred to me that, for somebody getting only one-hundred dollars every two weeks, she is certainly living beyond her allowance. 

“This video camera obviously cost a fortune,” I said, “but it looks good.”

“I  like good things. So  can you show me how it works? I also bought ten cartons of films for the camera,” she said, pointing to where the cartons of films stood on her couch.

“That’s a lot of films,” I said. “You are not gonna use all that in Middle River, are you?”

She didn’t say anything.

After she handed me the drink, I explained to her how to use the camera to record events and  pictures. Then she said, “I’m going to use it to keep a record of my stay in Atlantic City.”

“Atlantic City?” I was puzzled. “Are you going to Atlantic City too?”

She smiled. “You think you are the only one who takes vacation.”

“I’m certainly not, I can see” I said, looking more confused.

“I have rented a vacation house at the Boardwalk. I will stay there for two  weeks.”

“Has someone left you a fortune or what?” I asked

“I wish,” she said. “Why?”

“I know it’s not my business but for a college girl your age to rent a vacation house at the Boardwalk for two weeks baffles me. That ‘ll be very expensive.”

She shrugged. “Dad gives me a generous allowance.”

What she didn’t know was that her father told me exactly how much he was giving her. So I know she is living well beyond the allowance Reverend Waters was giving her. He told me in confidence that he was giving her one hundred dollars every two weeks. But a vacation house in the Boardwalk will cost more than one hundred dollars a week. To me, that is too much for a college girl of her age.

“Well, if he does, I guess you shouldn’t worry then,” I said. “So when  are you leaving?”

“The same time as you are going there.” She came over and sat on my lap. “And I am going alone, just like you.”

She looked at me. When I looked into her eyes, there was no doubt in my mind that she wasn’t telling me this without a reason. The invitation in her eyes was irresistible. Before I knew what I was doing, we started making love again.

For the next thirty minutes we lay exhausted on the floor. Then she said, “Look Harry. I’m not a baby anymore, so I know how you feel about me. The good thing is that I feel the same way about you too, regardless of what happened  between us a week ago. Lets go to Atlantic City together. I will arrange everything. Now that I know how you feel about dad and your job, I promise you I will cover our tracks very well. I rented the vacation house near the boardwalk using the names Mr. and Mrs. Reed.  You will be Mr Graham Reed, a college professor on vacation. No one  will recognize us down there. I think it will be exciting to spend a week together – just you and me – don’t you think so?”

“Sounds nice,” I said. “But we just can’t do it. Why the rush?”

I must confess, deep inside me, I was thinking that there was no reason why we shouldn’t do it. It is actually what I would like to do. I was just afraid and concerned that a young girl like this can make this kind of move. And I was worried about Reverend Waters too. He will be very disappointed with me. The other church members will start avoiding me like poison. All my friends in this little town will ostracize me. Oh Madonna!

“You worry too much sweetheart,” she said. “I told you, I got this.  All we have to do is to be very careful. First, I will go down there using one of dad’s cars. You will join me the next  day by train. I am sure you will like the vacation house. I mean, who wouldn’t?  The place is called South New York Avenue. It’s basically in the boardwalk,  very lovely and faces the ocean and we don’t have to worry about people recognizing us since the nearest house to it is at least a quarter of a mile away. Please write down this address just in case. That’s the house’s address. Apart from the village maid that will be our house help while we were there, we will have the ocean to ourselves! Isn’t that good? I can bet my life you will love it!”

I brought out my pen and jot the address down on my pocket diary. She also fetched a large-scale map that was lying on her couch where the vacation house was, where it was marked on the map. It was pretty isolated, and from the terrace you can see the ocean. I admit, it was gorgeous.

“Sure I will Brittany,” I said. “Any normal man will jump to the idea. My only concern is this: what happens to us after this escapade?”

She laughed.

“I know what you are thinking Harry,” she said. “Sure – I care about you. But I’m not in love with you yet so I won’t expect you to marry me after this. So you have nothing to worry about. This have been my fantasy for a long time: staying alone with a man I can trust in a place where nobody knows us.  One thing I’m sure of is that I want to be alone with you for two  weeks.”

“Are you sure about this, Brittany?”

She kissed my mouth.

“Look Harry,” she said. “There’s nothing else to talk about this matter. I already told you I’ve planned it most carefully. I also promised you that there will be no strings to it. So the ball is now in your court. If you want to spent  two weeks with me, fine; if you don’t, fine. I will be at the train station on the 20^th and if you are not there waiting for me to pick you up, I’ll understand.”

“Come on Brittany…”

“Please Harry. Let’s forget about it for the moment. I want you to make love to me again. You will either be on the train station or you won’t.”

So I made love to her, knowing that I would be at the train station  in Atlantic City.

When I left her house later, I  couldn’t help thinking again that she was definitely living beyond her means. Reverend Waters told me he was giving her one hundred dollars every two weeks. And from the way he said it, I’m sure he didn’t want her to receive more than that. Knowing the price of vacation houses in a place like Atlantic City, the one she showed me must really cost a fortune. So where else is she getting her money?  How the rich live!

END OF EPISODE II

P.S. Episode Three will be published here next Monday.