The Pastor’s Daughter: Episode XXXIV

Candace’s reflexes worked a lot faster than mine. He knows who councilman McCutchen was. Who doesn’t? I mean everyone that works in a Baltimore area newspaper house knew all the Baltimore City council members, even though councilman McCutchen is unrecognizable whenever changes to his criminal personality. Anyway, as soon as she saw him, Candace   whipped the carton into her bag and was on her feet by the time councilman McCutchen was half-way across the lounge. She made a dash for the bedroom door.

Snarling, councilman McCutchen jumped forward, his fingers reaching for her. I tried to stop him as he passed me. I shot out my foot and hooked his legs from under him. When I did that, he sprawled headlong, his fingers closing on Candace’s blouse. The thin material tore from her shoulder as she gave a frantic twist of her body and broke free. She then dashed into the bedroom and slammed the door. Both councilman McCutchen and I heard the key turn.

There was no way Candace escape from that bedroom without breaking the window glasses. And I’m sure she’s not going to do that. The good thing was  that the door was solid. Councilman McCutchen would have to break it down.

I was thinking about all these as I heaved myself out of the chair I was sitting in. Councilman McCutchen was still sprawled on the floor, cursing the entire world. From my previous experience fighting him, I knew it will be a big mistake to fight him without a weapon. So, jumping across the room to the fireplace, I grabbed a heavy steel poker. As I turned, I saw he was already on his feet.

We faced each other.

“Okay, you useless betrayer,” he shouted. “I’m gonna teach you a lesson you’ll never forget!”

I waited for him.

He crouched, and began to move slowly forward, with his big hands held out before him, and his thick fingers hooked. He circled a little to my side, his eyes vicious and intent. I turned slightly and positioned  the poker in readiness for his rush. I knew then that the only way I could stop him will be to land one good smash on his head.

Unfortunately, I underestimated his speed. I have fought him before, so I knew he was fast. I, however, didn’t realize just how fast he could be until he suddenly dived for my knees.

His shoulder crashed against my thighs as I brought down the poker. It missed his head and landed across his shoulders. We went down together with a thump that rocked the room, and I felt as if a house had fallen on me.

Letting go of the poker, I drove my fist into his face. Even though I couldn’t get much weight behind the punch, it did sent his head back. Thinking that another punch will weaken him, I aimed my fist at his throat. But I was unlucky this time: my fist sailed past his head as he twisted aside. He hit me on the forehead with a clubbing punch that dazed me.

With great difficulty, and using all the energy I had, I was able to get my hand under his chin and heaved him off me. He aimed another punch at my head, but I blocked it with my right arm. I then kicked him so hard on the chest that he crashed against the settee that shot across the room and mowed down an occasional table and a standard lamp.

He jumped up and rushed at me, but I was on my feet in time to meet his rush. We collided like two fighting bulls. It wasn’t a pleasant experience at all – I can tell you that. I hit him on the side of his jaw, but my punch wasn’t a match for the one he gave me in the ribs that turned me sick.

He backed away, probably to prepare for a more aggressive attack. I looked at his face and saw that it was contorted with a savage rage. I steadied myself and waited for his attack. As he came in, showing his teeth in a snarling grimace, I hit him in the face, jolting his head back. I moved aside as he countered with a punch that swished past my jaw. This move brought him forward, and I hit him again on the side of his head. My punch threw him off balance for a brief moment but he recovered quickly and crowded me, bashing my ribs with four short-arm blows that thumped the breath out of me. Again, using all the energy in me, I broke away from him and jumped behind an armchair. He looked as if he had regained his confidence and strength. He rushed at me again and I shoved the chair at him, spoiling his rush. He cursed and threw another punch at me. His blow missed me and I was very glad that it did.

Punch for punch, I knew he was too strong for me. I don’t stand a chance at all. He hit with the force of a sledge hammer. Not only that, every time he hit me, I weakened.

So I began to back away from him. But he was so mad with rage that he, I believed, wanted to teach me a lesson I will never forget. With blood trickling down his chin from a cut lip, he moved towards me. As he came within reach, I hit him on the nose with my left fist. But the blow didn’t stop him. He hit back, and his fist exploded in my face. His punch carried a lot of weight and I felt my knees sag. As I threw up my hands to protect my face, he hit me again on the stomach and I went down with a crash.

The pain in my stomach was very unbearable, and I expected him to finish me up. I was, however, both wrong and lucky. He was so anxious to get at Candace that he left me and charged across the room. He kicked at the bedroom door lock. The door split, but the lock held. I heard the crash of breaking glass from inside the room. I also heard  Candace screaming out of the broken window at the top of her voice.

I managed to get to my feet. My legs felt like rubber sticks and I could barely walk. But I told myself I must do something, at least to protect Candace. As he set himself for another kick at the lock, I reeled forward and flung my arms around his neck. I then dragged him backward, after somehow getting a lock on his throat with my arms. The problem was that holding him was like holding on to a wild bear. He was just too strong for me.

With his strong arms, he took my arms off his throat and drove his elbow into my body. He then turned and closed his fingers on my throat. The thought of leaving Candace to face this animal energized me and, getting my hands under his chin, I exerted pressure. For a brief moment we remained motionless, with his fingers squeezing my throat and my hands slowly wedging his head back. I was convinced that my hold hurt him more than his hurt me because he let go and heaved backwards, scrambled to his feet as I got up on to my knees.

He came after me again and swung a punch. I saw it coming but I was too weak to dodge it. Lights exploded before my eyes and I went down like a log of wood.

For maybe three or four seconds, I remained out and would have loved to stay that way to avoid further attack by him. The sound of the bedroom door crashing open and a wild scream from Candace brought me around. I staggered up and looked at the poker lying on the floor near me. I picked it up and staggered across the room into the bedroom.

Councilman McCutchen had Candace flat on her back across the bed. One of his hands gripped her throat and he was shouting: “Where the hell is the film? Come on! Let me have it now or…”

I swung the poker. Councilman McCutchen half-turned, but he was a shade too late. The poker came down on top of his head  and his hand slid off Candace’s throat. He slipped sideways and, deciding not to take any chances, I hit him again. He spread out on the floor.

I dropped the poker, stepped over him and leaned over Candace.

“Are you okay, Candace?” I said. “Did he hurt you?”

She looked up at me, her face white. Although she tried to smile, I could see that she was pretty shaken.

“He didn’t get it, Harry,” she gasped, and then she began to cry.

“What’s going on here?” I heard a voice say at the door.

I looked over my shoulder and saw two policemen standing in the doorway. One of them was holding a .357 Magnum double-action revolver in his right hand.

“Not much at the moment,” I said, making an effort to keep upright. “This man broke in here and started causing lots of trouble. I’m Harry Payne of the Middle River Times. Lieutenant Ludlum knows me.”

At the mention of Lieutenant Ludlum’s name, the policemen’s faces brightened. Then they looked at councilman McCutchen, and one of them exclaimed, “Wait a minute, isn’t councilman McCutchen of Baltimore City?”

“Sure – that’s him,” I replied.

“What is he doing here?” he said.

“Search me,” I replied. “I had no idea.”

“You do understand this could be touchy and messy,” the other policeman, the taller one said. “He is a city councilman…”

“I don’t care who he is,” I snarled. “He came in here and started to attack us. All I know is that he is not above the law. Do your job.”

“So, you wanna press charges then?”

“Yes, I do,” I said. “Get him out of here, will you? I will have a clean up and then I will join you guys at the police station.

One of the policemen, the shorter one, went over to councilman McCutchen. He caught hold of his left hand and dragged him upright. That was a big mistake. I had already learned the danger of getting close to councilman McCutchen when he is sore and I started to shout a warning.

Councilman McCutchen came to life. His right fist shot out and hit the policeman very hard in the jaw, sending him crashing into the other policeman.

Councilman McCutchen came to his feet. He gave me a shove and I fell on the bed, and he then dived out of the room.

One of the policemen, the one with the gun in his hand, recovered his balance. He swung around, lifted his gun and fired. I saw councilman McCutchen stagger, but he reached the front door as the policeman fired again.

Councilman McCutchen dropped on hands and knees. He turned his head and looked at me. His face was a savage mask of pain and fury. I had no sympathy for him at all, not that it will matter anyway. Somehow, he was able to hurl himself to his feet. I was surprised that he still had the strength to do that after being shot two times. Anyway, he took three tottering steps out on to the corridor and stood swaying at the head of the steps that led to outside the house.

The policeman with the gun moved slowly towards him.

Again, councilman McCutchen looked past him at me. I saw his face twist into a ghastly attempt at a grin. As I was trying to figure out why he was grinning, his eyes suddenly rolled back and his knees buckled. He toppled backwards and landed on the floor of the corridor with a crash that shook the building.

END OF EPISODE XXXIV

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