Hank was in a large room that held fifteen beds and a nurse’s station. Eleven of the fifteen were currently occupied. Each bed had a curtain on tracks at the ceiling to be pulled shut when privacy was necessary. Hank’s bed was located at the front of the column to the right of the door. He was staring at the ceiling when the Moss and Broden entered and looked over after hearing their footsteps clicking on the linoleum floor.

“Chief.” Hank's voice had regained some of its power, but it was still strained. He nodded at Moss. “Serge. Have you found Huey yet?”

Chief’s expression answered the question before he could utter a sound. “I’m sorry, Hank. Not yet.”

Hank nodded and turned away. 

“We do know he’s still alive.” Hank faced Chief expectantly and Chief continued, “Bob Evers saw him with your father this morning.”

“Evers?”

Chief looked around and after finding a chair, pulled it up to the bed. Moss followed suit with a chair from the opposite corner of the room.

“What happened?” Hank asked. The demeanor of both men was disconcerting.

“They lured Kelly into the woods this morning. If it hadn’t have been for Evers … If he hadn't seen them skirting his property, they would have had her.”

Hank turned away and drew in a breath. “Damn him,” he whispered.  He regarded Chief. “I thought she knew better than that?”

“Your father called her dog into the woods with a whistle... Kelly tried to rescue it.”

They were quiet for a moment, then Chief broke the silence. “How do you feel, son?”

“Okay, I guess. Alive, at any rate.”

“Are you up to answering a few questions?”

“If it will help get Huey back and lock that bastard up,” he began, “shit Chief, I could answer questions all day.”

The corners of Chief’s lips turned up into a weary grin. “Well, if you start to get tired just let us know.”

Hank nodded and waited as Chief stood and pulled the curtain around them to add a measure of privacy.

Moss began the questioning. “First of all, in order to find out where your father is holed up and when he will make his next move, we need to figure him out. Know him.”

“Get inside his head,” Hank stated.

“Right,” Moss agreed.

“You said earlier, that you knew when he’d flip. How?” Chief asked.

“Usually when he’d come back from his trap route, he’d pull one hell of a drunk. He’d get this crazy expression on his face, like he left and something else came in his place. Then he’d leave the house in a big hurry...” Hank broke off. He was deeply contemplating the ceiling. He turned to Chief. His eyes were growing moist. “Funny thing of it is, Chief, I think he left in a hurry those times to get away from Hugh and me. I don’t think he really wanted to hurt us.”

“Did he say anything as he left?” broke in Moss.

Hank turned to him. After a moment he answered, “He mumbled a lot of junk that didn’t make sense. But I did catch ‘Make them pay’ a couple of times. And something about a growing cancer.”

Moss glanced at Chief. “Bob says the first time you saw this you followed him. You saw him kill a man for the first time...nine years ago?”

Again Hank looked at the ceiling for answers. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I was twelve.”

“Are you sure, that was the first time you saw him kill?”

Hank turned to him. Even Chief regarded Moss.

“What are you getting at, Mort?” Chief asked. “Why would he lie–?”

“Chief.” Hank’s voice was a mere whisper. Chief detected the remorse that controlled the boy. Hank’s eyes held Chief’s for a brief instant and Chief saw his agony. Hank took a deep breath then turned to Moss. “Just how much do you know?”

“I’m only guessing,” Moss answered. “I can’t understand why he returned to killing after his parents were already removed from the equation. The threat of abuse was over.”

“We went through this, Mort!” Chief insisted. “The drinking–”

“What caused the drinking?”

“Alcoholism.”

“To a point, Bob. But I want to know the point. I want to know the incident.” He turned to Hank. “And I feel you have the answer for me.”

“Which–?”

“I don’t understand why he took the boy at all. The boy would be a handicap, not a benefit. Your father has motives, defined ones...precise ones. Just because we are not locked onto his agenda, does not invalidate those motives. Why did he take the boy, Bob? Damn it that bothers me!”

Chief asked Hank, “Do you know?”

“No, sir. I don't understand that either. Only that... now that I think about it...”

“What?” Moss leaned forward in his chair.

“He said he was going to kill Hugh... said he was part of the cancer.” Hank looked sharply at Moss. “What’s that mean?”
Moss stared in front of him. His eyes registered Hank. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Tell me about the first kill,” Moss asked, his manner reflective. “The first time that you witnessed him… uh, ‘flip.’”

Chief glanced at Hank who swallowed sharply. “I held back, Chief.” Hank leaned against his pillows. He avoided their faces when he spoke, looking up at the ceiling instead, and began, “I’ll tell you what I know of my father, Sergeant Moss. You can decide if it’s any help to you.

“For the most part he was a good guy. I mean when I was little, before Huey. I went with him on his trap route. He believed in checking them regularly. ‘Keep the animals from undue suffering’ is what he would say. Back then we were close. I worshiped him.” Hank turned to Chief. “Kind of the way Huey does now.”

Chief nodded that he understood.

“But all that changed,” Moss prompted.

“Yes. His drinking got worse ... and his obsession with...” Hank stopped. He wet his lips and looked at Chief.

“Go on, son.” Chief held Hank’s gaze. He already knew where this was leading. “We’re still listening,” Chief added and braced himself.

“His obsession with...” Hank sallied  on, “with your wife, sir. It got worse worse and I think that’s he drank. It was almost like ... well, if he had her...”

“Go on,” Chief said again, his eyes remained on Hank’s.

“It was as though,” Hank repeated, “if he had her all his problems would dissolve. She was magical to him– the one tangible good in his life. But his inability to have her... caused him to spin into depression.  He’d slip away... then he’d binge drink and become more violent.”

“Was this when he’d flip?” Moss broke in from the edge of his seat and leaned forward.

“No, Serge. He didn’t flip-out– well as far as I know, until that day.”

“What day?” Chief asked.

“I’m getting ahead of myself,” Hank said.

“I’m sorry,” Moss relaxed. “Continue... He became more violent...”

“When he was sober he’d never strike me. But when he drank, he’d throw tantrums. He once or twice slapped me around– but never beatings, not like later. Just a slap here and there–only when he was drunk.”

“But that changed?” Chief asked.

“Yes, sir. The day...” Hank broke off. He looked at the ceiling, searching for a way to proceed and settling on, “She figured he didn’t love her anymore– how could he? His heart belonged to Mrs. Broden. Always would. When she dumped him, it cut his heart out. Ma wasn’t the sort to play second fiddle. She used to call Mrs. Broden the ghost.... there’s a ghost in this room, she’d say. There’s a ghost between us.” Hank looked at Chief. “She hated your wife, even though she’d pretend... but there was anger there, Chief. And so much hatred. Ma got even by running around on Pa. With a guy named Deak–”

“Deak Stonewall?” Moss asked and glanced at Chief.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

Chief turned to Hank. “Wasn’t he that asshole I arrested in ‘22. Made bail and disappeared.”

Hank took a deep breath. “I know Ma paid the bail, Chief, and he didn’t disappear.” He looked from Chief to Moss then back to the ceiling. “He came back to Ma. I couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t stop him. Ma was hiding him. If I told, he’d kill me.” Hank looked at Chief. “That’s what he said. He gave me fair warning.”

“Jesus,” Chief whispered. “So what happened to him?”
“Pa happened.”

Chief looked sharply at Hank. “What?”
“I came home from fishing, it was Saturday morning... God, I can remember it like it was yesterday. Pa was coming from the north end of the yard. He had the strangest look on his face... kind of empty, or like he was looking at something... I don’t know... something else. It was strange, like he was just visiting, a stranger in his own body. Then he stopped and looked through his bedroom window from the outside. He he seemed to focus, but it was weird. He didn’t really look angry like you would think. I didn’t know what he was looking at, at the time, he just stared, like the event just caught him a little off guard, but he was still curious enough to stand there and watch. Then he started to whisper ‘make a wish’ over and over again and walked away. I went to the window after he left; I saw them....” Hank paused. His eyes were again growing moist with the pain and shame of the memory. He turned to face Chief Broden. “Then there was Pa. He didn’t look angry at all… just crazy… he had a bizarre maniacal smile on his face. He grabbed the bitch and threw her against the wall… and Deak, well he picked him out of the bed like he weighed nothing at all– by the neck no less. And he squeezed the life out of him. He told him to make a wish… Pa’s eyes never left Deak’s. Deak’s bulged and his face turned red and then purple… he tried fighting it, but it was no use. Ma just watched from the floor. I guess she was scared shitless. Then he dropped the corpse and said, ‘there, now your dreams are mine.’ Weird, huh?”

Chief and Moss exchanged glances. Then Moss asked, “You said he had a strange look on his face before he looked through the window?”

Hank squinted. “Yes, he did.”

“Like the look he has when he ‘flips’?”

“Yeah, now that you mention it..”

“So he was under the influence of this state before actually killing Deak?”

“What ever state that is-?”

“I’m missing the point,” Moss said dryly. “Damn.”

“The point, Mort?” Chief asked.

“The point when the Tiger took over, Bob. The point Fred actually lost that battle. What happened next?”

“Pa left, kind of in a daze … just wandered out. I went in and found Ma crying on the floor. We cleaned up the mess together. Then took the body into the woods at the side of the yard and buried it. She didn’t want Pa arrested, Chief. Embarrassment was part of it, but I think she still loved him, even then.” Hank was quiet for a long time. Contemplating whether to tell the rest. He turned to Moss. “You sure this is going to help Huey?”

“I don’t know for sure. I can only say that this case, like the one thirteen years ago, is twisted beyond any other I’ve ever worked. Any information we get is helpful. We need to piece it all together; try to figure out what happened to you father. Maybe if we knew that, we could figure out where he would turn for help.”

“He doesn’t need help, Sergeant. He’s at home in those woods. He survives out there–”

“He may,” broke in Moss, "but the boy would have a difficult time. If your father is keeping him alive, for a final purpose, which I believe he is...otherwise, why hold onto him at all, he will need to find food and shelter for the boy.”

Hank nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

Hank again rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling to avoid their eyes. When next he spoke, his voice was quiet, contemplative. “I was eight when we buried Pa’s first kill- Mr. Stonewall. Ma and Pa stopped touching each other after that. Shortly after, they slept in separate bedrooms. They never even looked at each other. Ma wouldn’t leave at first, I guess because she was terrified of him, and because in a sick way she still cared for him. Me and the old man got along great, though, back then. I guess his attention, being taken from her, had to go someplace. Nine months later, Hugh was born. I knew he wasn’t Pa’s. But Pa never acted differently towards Hugh. I got to give him credit for that. Hugh was his son as far as he was concerned. And I guess once Ma saw how the old man got along with the kid, she felt it was safe to leave. Two years later, she split. That’s when the killing started for real, Chief.” Hank faced Chief. “That’s when he started hunting the depot men.”

Chief looked up from the floor and their eyes locked. 

“It was a gradual thing at first… only two that first year. One the next.” Hank went on, his attention still on Chief. “He’d kill them like Stonewall... strangle the life from them, always looking them deep in the eyes, as though he collected something off them.” Hank glanced at Moss. “Maybe that’s what ‘make a wish’ means.”

“We are a subtotal of all our dreams,” Moss pondered. “Is there anything else you can tell us.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You said two that first year. One the next,” Chief noticed. “That would have been before Huey was born.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Depot men?”

Hank nodded.

“You buried them yourself, or did your mother help?”

Hank swallowed. “I buried them.”

“Why?” Chief asked holding the boy’s attention.

“I still loved him. And he was the only one that cared about me. She didn’t. I remember the first depot man.” He asked Chief, “Do you want to hear?”

Chief nodded. “Please.”

“It was the day of the baseball championships. I’ll never forget it, because it was then I knew for sure my life had turned to shit. I woke up and found my mother on the couch, her cheek bloody. I was hungry so I searched the cupboards but like usual they were bare. The milk had soured and the bread was moldy. I ate the part of the bread that wasn’t green and headed for the barn. I had chores before the game. While I was busy in the barn, my Ma left the house and started the truck. Heading into town for breakfast. I’d hoped it was to Zimmerman’s for more food, but that wasn’t the case.”

“I remember that day. You missed the game and it forfeited,” Chief said quietly. “We were worried you’d been taken.”

Hank nodded. “Pa came out soon after. He had that crazy look so I hid behind the door. I watched him saddle the mare. Thinking he was going hunting I followed him on the mule … to Barritts. I lost him in the woods north of the depot. When I found his trail it led me to his kill. I buried that man under some rocks in the side of a hill.” Hank grew sullen. “My world was falling apart, Chief. Then you took me in for three weeks while he was in the high country again.”

“I remember.” 

“You said it would get better, that you’d make sure. For a while it worked. You got him off the drink–he quit for a year.”

“Did your father have any friends?” Moss diverted. “Anyone he was especially close to?”

“Just Chief Broden here. He didn’t have many friends, Sergeant, he was mostly a loner.” Hank paused, his face knotting up with concentration. “Wait a minute,” he mused. “There was a guy, an old guy... I think his name was Smiley, yeah, that was it. Smiley Bennet. He did a lot of trapping with my old man back then.”

Chief and Mort exchanged glances.

“Did they ever take you with them?” Moss asked.

“Pa wouldn’t allow it.”

“When did you first meet this Smiley?” Chief asked.

“That winter. I remember the first time I actually came face to face with him was when I took Mr. Crebs up there the day of the blizzard. Before that I just followed my old man out. But he didn’t know I’d come along. He didn’t want me up that way.”

“So you know where the man’s cabin is?” Chief asked.

Hank shook his head. “I got us lost. It’s been so long, Chief. I don’t think I’d be able to find it. I know it’s closer to Berritts Hills, in a deep ravine, near a pond. That’s all I remember.”

“How long was this before your father killed Stonewall?” Moss broke in.

“That was December when we went up there. Pa killed Stonewall the end of June. It was around the same time Pa started staying out for weeks. Then Smiley suddenly went blind–”

“When?” Moss jumped in.

“Around the time Pa did Stonewall.”

“Before or after?” Moss asked, his question, guarded.

“Not sure, Serge,” Hank said. “He could see when Mr. Crebs and I visited up there in December, the next time I saw him, it was about six months later. He was blind. Only...”

“Only what?”

“He has a way of seeing right through you...it’s freakish. That’s when Ma refused to let him near the house. She said she didn’t like the way he read her soul.”

“Is this when your father became more violent? With you and your brother?” Chief asked.

Hank faced Chief. “Not at first. Like I said, it took a couple of years to build up. But his mood swings were sharper. He’d get angry at little things that used to pass by him. But he never hit Huey– I wouldn’t allow that, neither would Ma, when she was around. But once she was gone, his moods became darker and stayed longer. He would try to get out before they controlled him. But sometimes he wouldn’t make it. That’s when I hid Huey from him in the closets or the cellar. Pa rarely went down in the cellar. I’d hide Huey, then take the whipping myself. Then Pa would leave and I’d get Huey.”

“How the hell did you hide that? I mean from teachers, your friends?”

“I was a disciplinary problem, Chief. I guess I hid it the same way he did.”

“I see.” Chief's guilt about passing over his own friend's bruises so easily returned. He regarded Hank. “After your mother left, who stayed with you and your brother when Fred disappeared for weeks?”

“No one. I took care of the both of us. No one asked, so it didn’t really matter. We live so far away from everyone, and most of our neighbors mind their own business.”

“Did you ever try and follow him?” Moss broke in.

“Only twice.”

“What happened?”

Hank thought about it. “The first time was after he killed Deak. I found him in the woods. He was down on the ground, knocked out. I ran and got Ma. She stayed with him and sent me after Doc Kingsbury.”

“What was wrong with him?” Moss asked and glanced at Broden.

“Doc looked him over.” Hank wiped his eyes. “Jesus I forgot all about this. He was beat up. And his back was full of scars like from a horsewhip. And pictures were burned all over his skin. And shit… Doc said he had internal damage, his ribs where broken and the skin around his wrists was shredded.”

“Like he had been locked in handcuffs?”

“Yeah. Only the metal was sharper and he tried to beak loose. He had a concussion.” Hank looked at Broden. “Kingsbury requested a surgeon for him when we got to the hospital- that’s how messed up he was.”

“And this happened after he killed Stonewall?” Chief asked.

Hank looked at him. “No. According to Doc Kingsbury he’d been tortured over several days.”

Moss looked sharply at Hank. “All that damage and he was able to throttle a man Stonewall’s size?”

Hank shrugged. “I don’t know what to say, Sergeant. He killed Stonewall, I saw him. Then twenty minutes later I found him in the woods busted up.”

Chief leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed in concentration. “I remember.” He looked at Moss. “He’d been gone a while, then turned up in the hospital. We questioned him. He’d been there three weeks and he explained it as camping in the high country and being attacked by a bear. He was busted up, burned, had several animal bites and was whipped. We found the four-by-four he had been chained to. We speculated, but no proof, and he wasn’t helping us any. He was hiding something. And Sam and that Bennet were all in it together.”

Moss nodded. 

“How did he act when he came home,” Chief asked Hank.

“Fine. Only… he was quiet. Didn’t leave the cabin much at first.”

“Fearful?” Moss asked.

“I don’t think that was it. He just seemed to want to stay at home. He started fixing things up. Like he wanted to take care of things– the house and me...until that business with Donny Crebs." 

“Donny’s drowning?’

“It upset him. He went into a rage. Started ranting a bunch of things that didn’t make sense. I couldn’t even tell you. Something about cutting out the cancer again. And making them pay… then he started leaving again, staying away for weeks on end. He came home when Grandpa Tim died. He said the cancer claimed him.” Hank looked at Broden. “But Granny Rose said it was a heart attack. What do you make of that?”

Chief stared. “I don’t know. What did cancer mean to your father?”

“That’s what I don’t know. After Grandpa’s funeral he packed another bag. I followed him this time.”

“Where’d he go?” Chief asked.

“I don’t know, Chief. He sent me home…” Again Hank rolled towards the ceiling. He stared at the overhead lights that illuminated the room with a sterile wash of antiseptic white light. The light etched out his face and emphasized the stitches in his brow. “It was strange,” Hank continued. “He got this glassy look in his eyes… not the same red hot anger he got when drunk. This time it was more serene. And then he said...what was it he said? Oh yeah, he said, ‘Not my boy. I’m not going to let them ruin my boy.’ I don’t know what that means.”

“It means your father loved you,” Moss told him.  “As best he could and knew how, he loved you.”

Hank stared at him for a long time. “Who are ‘they’ Sergeant?”

“You don’t know? He never mentioned them to you?”

“No.”

“He was protecting you.”

“From who? Or what?”

“There was a cult that operated in this area. We think your father was exposed to them when he was a boy. I believe they are the cancer your father mentioned. His parents were members,” Mort glanced at Chief. “So was Deak Stonewall.”

Chief looked at him. “We knew of the link between Stonewall and Bartlett. I didn’t know you’ve put him in the cult.”

“He was mentioned in some of the papers we found in Jonas’s car.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“It was among some of the coded writings, Bob. I followed it up when I was dumped from the force. Never went anywhere- I guess because the man was dead- disappeared.”

“Jonas?” Hank asked. “Who-”

Mort turned to him. “Bob and I were involved in an investigation concerning the murder of young boys during the summer of ’23–”

“I remember,” Hank whispered. He looked at Chief. “Charley Stevens, Danny Perrine and Kyle Sanders. Kyle was a friend of mine. I was there when Kyle went missing.” He looked at Moss. “You think there’s a connection?”

“Yes, but we’re not sure what that connection is. We know that cult abused your father. That cult is the ‘they’ he was trying to protect you from. How he fit with it then, and how he thinks he fits with it now is what we’re trying to find out. But if Huey is the son of one of the cult members… that would explain his remark about the boy being part of the cancer he feels he must be rid of. We need all the information we can get in order to put the puzzle together. Find the pattern. Once that’s done, we may be able to figure out where he is holed up now.”

“My friends and I were messing around in the cellar.” Hank’s tone reminded Chief of Kelly’s when she began her tale of the depot and the tiger there–dispassionate. He looked at neither Chief Broden, nor Sergeant Moss. “Pat Bishop, Sam Winters and Peter O’Hara. Peter found a loose stone in the brickwork that houses our furnace– actually I guess it was the football that found it. It knocked the stone to the floor. Peter found the book. We were all about to check it out when I heard Pa’s footsteps upstairs. I didn’t want to chance him going off with my friends in the house, I could tell he was sauced up pretty good by the way things were knocked over up there. So, I hustled the guys out the loose panel that we have just right of the furnace, just as he started screamin’ down the cellar stairs for me.”

Hank looked at Chief. “We forgot about the book. We left it next to the furnace. But when I went back to look for it, someone had put it back and cemented the stone back in place. Pa never said anything about it. I thought for sure he would, but he never did.”

Chief narrowed his gaze. “What did the book look like?” he asked in a whisper.

Hank regarded him and shrugged. “It was about nine inches wide by twelve long, brown leather with green leather corners,” Hank answered, his own expression sharpened. “Why?”

“I remember it,” Chief answered, but didn’t elaborate.

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