Fathom by Mikel Parry

CH – PRANK CALL

The air was bitter cold, arresting the nerves in their bodies, as they looked up at a daunting castle-like edifice. Each was imagining their own version of how things might pan out. Demo was shaking violently, both from the frigid air and his nerves, which were getting the better of him. He really hadn’t had time to plan this out. It had come so abruptly.

“So this is his place? You weren’t kidding; he’s a complete arse.”

Demo looked over at Bob Cat, still not sure what to say or do.

“Well, what’s your plan? We got here and you said you wanted to talk to him, so what now?”

Gazing up at the heavy, wrought iron gate in front of them, Demo put out a quivering finger and pressed the call button. A moment or two passed before the familiar, warm tone of a woman came out.

“Hello; what can I do for you two gentlemen?”

Demo tried to speak but instead let out a long wheeze. He was the worst person on earth when it came to human interaction. Bob Cat, however, was more than happy to oblige.

“Here to see the judge. Got some questions we hope he might answer. We’re detectives.”

The speaker went silent. It was obvious the woman was checking their request with the judge. Both men held their breath, worried they might be snatched off the street by Roslin’s goons any minute. They were both pleasantly surprised by the clank of the massive gate opening.

“Please close the gate behind you if you would be so kind.”

They quickly dashed through the gate into the courtyard and then shut it behind them. Bob Cat threw an envious fit when he saw the opulence.

“These little pricks, hiding in here like kings, can’t even share a nickel!”

“Easy, Bobby . . . he’s one of those pricks we need right now. Save your economic disparity speech for later.”

Bob Cat shook his head, showing obvious signs of disgust.

“To me, a guy like this is no better than Mars; people getting paid to play god. How many innocent men and women have they put behind bars for a little kickback?”

Putting his hands in the air and waving them awkwardly downward, Demo did his best to calm the tired, upset Bob Cat.

“I know, Bobby, I know how you feel, but for now let’s pretend he’s just any chump from the streets.”

“A chump who lives in a multimillion dollar estate on top of the clouds . . . Ole’ boy can suck eggs for all I care.”

Going through the same routine as before, Demo did his best to dodge the extremely concerned looks he was meriting by being so obviously out of place. And to make matters worse, he’d brought Bob Cat, whose fashion sense leaned more toward barbarian than upper-class citizen. But it didn’t matter; all that mattered was they were in. Perhaps he had made an impression on the prominent judge after all . . .

When the elevator finally reached the top, and after enduring a constant barrage of Bob Cat’s anti-elitist rhetoric, Demo tapped on the elaborately carved doors. They opened slowly but steady, and soon they saw the amiable face of the judge. He was immaculately dressed, as always, and received them immediately with his usual offer of refreshments.

“Boys, come on in. Can I interest either of you in a coffee, or a hot chocolate perhaps, on this brisk early morning?”

Demo glanced at Bob Cat, who looked like a corpse that had just dragged itself free from the grave. But he was a far cry from looking like royalty himself. He just hoped the judge would sense their urgency. He needed to hear a few things that only a judge might grasp and he needed to hear it firsthand.

“Just water for me, thanks,” answered Demo timidly.

“I’ll take a hot chocolate and a shot of vodka if you’ve got it.”

Lyle looked slightly confused, but not one to argue, he receded into the depths of his luxurious home.

“You sure this is smart? This guy’s safer than the president, for crying out loud. He practically lives in Fort Knox.”

Demo put a hand up to shush him.

“This guy can get to anyone; he’s proven that. Besides, this is the only judge I have any real connection to. He’s our only option at this point.”

Lyle returned and gently placed a silver tray in front of Demo and Bob Cat. They both forced a smile in thanks.

“So, what brings you two gentlemen here so early in the morning?”

Demo began to respond, but was rudely interrupted by a loud belch from Bob Cat. Demo’s face turned to an immediate red like an old fashioned thermometer ready to pop.

“Apologies for the inconvenience but we just couldn’t wait. I promise this will be the last time I bother you, Sir.”

Lyle’s smile softened as he sat down across from them on an opulent leather couch.

“It’s fine. I’m sure you’re just trying to do your job. Who am I to get in the way? I must apologize for my brashness when we first met; I was just a bit shocked. Things of this nature can often taint an otherwise fruitful relationship.”

Demo nodded harmoniously along with the wonderfully crafted message Lyle was giving.

“I agree. I’d like to start over; start fresh. And more importantly, I’d like to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind.”

The judge looked up at a large wooden clock then back down at the sitting duo.

“I’ve got a little time. I don’t see why not.”

Taking a deep breath, Demo tried to tame the roaring lions of chaos that urged him to just ramble, he needed to be articulate for once.

“How does it feel?”

Well, there goes being articulate.

Lyle shifted in his seat. The comment had definitely caught him off-guard. But he was more familiar with Demo’s unfinished roller coaster of a mind than he had been before.

“How does what feel, my boy? You’ll have to be clearer, I’m afraid.”

Getting a look of pure annoyance from Bob Cat, Demo shook his head, trying to organize the clutter into proper streams of conversation.

“Sorry, I jumped ahead there. You’re a judge; a rather well known judge at that. So you’ve probably dealt with every kind of case there is. I can only imagine what walks through those courtroom doors every day.”

Pausing, Demo thought of the smug looking Mars walking in to defend some creep, smiling about all the lying he’d done that day.

And all of them rely on you to pass fair judgment. You really are like a gatekeeper in many ways, Judge. But one wonders the toll it takes on you to have to play god . . . all those mixed emotions. So, I guess that’s what I was trying to get at by asking you how it feels.”

Lyle sat back in his chair and gazed into the air, apparently pondering Demo’s words carefully.

“Well, to be honest, it is hard. It’s a hard thing to do when you don’t actually know what happened. And so many things can get mishandled in a courtroom. I guess I simply try to follow the law as best I can.”

Demo looked displeased by Lyle’s response.

“Yes, but how does it feel when you drop the gavel and finally sentence someone?”

This made Lyle shift his position, but his resolve remained steadfastly intact.

“Powerful, I suppose, to be quite honest. To know that you hold the key to someone’s future can be quite consuming. But it’s a power controlled by rules; rules that allow me to use that power to extend the hand of justice. Without rules it would be chaos, but any judge could tell you that. I guess I’m not quite sure what you want from me.”

“And what if a judge was to break those rules; to allow their personal convictions to supersede all? What would that merit in response?”

Squinting his eyes to the point they were almost shut, Lyle responded slowly.

“I’d imagine that the judge in question would be subject to the very same rules of punishment; a punishment to fit the crime, if you will.”

Lyle smiled warmly before standing up. Calmly, he walked over and relieved both Demo and Bob Cat of their empty glasses. Demo kept his gaze straight ahead. He was trying to get any piece of new info he could.

“And what if you accidentally punish the wrong person? What if the wrong judgment is passed down?”

Lyle stopped on route to his kitchen. Demo’s words had definitely hit home.

“I can assure you that it will never happen on my watch. I didn’t get to where I am today by taking short cuts. I treat each case as if a member of my own family was on trial.”

Demo took the opportunity to dive a bit deeper.

“Family? I’ve never really heard you talk about your family. I’d love to hear about them.”

There was a brief silence as Lyle disappeared into the kitchen then reappeared.

“For me, Mr. Ward, it’s always been about family.”

Lyle paused, taking a deep breath of air.

“I’ve got a typical family with two wonderful children who are both doing well in their pursuits. I couldn’t be happier.”

It was wrong to probe, but Demo didn’t care anymore. Every minute he wasted allowed the killer to gain ground.

“And your wife, does she live here with you?”

Lyle bowed his head slightly and responded tenderly.

“She’s gone.”

Demo was taken aback. It appeared everyone shouldered a burden in some way.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine. It’s good to be honest and try to heal . . . it’s a process, you know. She died some years ago from cancer. The most nefarious of diseases; there was nothing we could do.”

“I’m sure she was a fighter,” chimed in Bob Cat.

Demo watched as Lyle tried to fight back a sudden rush of emotion.

“Well, I’m sure both she and your parents are proud of what you’ve been able to accomplish.”

With the mention of his parents, Lyle’s posture instinctively changed to a more aggressive one. But in the blink of an eye, he returned to his normal self.

“I apologize for my behavior. It’s just the reality of things. I have been, for all intents and purposes, an orphan most of my life.”

The air in the room seemed to thin as Demo and Bob Cat gasped in unison. This was something neither of them had expected. It made Lyle’s success even more amazing; an orphan boy who rose to fame and respect.

“Well, I’m impressed. Most could only dream of attaining your level of success, Sir. I know our courts are truly blessed to have you,” Demo stated dryly, trying to be sincere.

His comment brought another warm smile from of Lyle who then kindly began to usher them to the door. As they walked, Demo noticed the chess board pieces in the same exact position as before.

“Have you had any luck finding anything that could potential lead back to you?”

Lyle suddenly frowned.

“Well, word on the street is that the latest crimes have been solved and are being dealt with. This gives me a well needed respite. I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately; scary times these are. But there is just one thing . . .”

Demo snapped his head back to get a direct line to Lyle.

“What’s that?”

Lyle looked slightly disturbed.

“The other night I was watching the news as is my habit, when the phone rang. Now that isn’t out of the norm, but who was on the other line upset me.”

“Who was it?” asked Bob Cat, taking a sudden interest.

“You see, that’s the problem. It was just silent. I cordially asked several times who was calling only to get nothing in response. After a minute or two, I hung up the phone and returned to my routine. The question that still bothers me is who knows my number? I’m a judge so I rarely give it out.

“Prank call maybe?” suggested Demo without conviction.

They shook hands and said their good-byes. To most people this visit would seem frivolous, but to him it had been essential. Taking the snippets of emotion Lyle had shared with him would help Demo share the mindset of the killer, and it centered on the law and on justice and its execution; a true god unto himself. He felt that he was getting closer than ever before. But he needed to understand one more thing to seal the deal; Spencer the Bloody Vulcan.