CHAPTER 19 ~ PURSUED

Vincent returned below when morning dawned, going to Father’s chamber, finding him seated at his desk examining the papers scattered before him.

“Good morning, Vincent.” Father pulled off his glasses and leaned back in his chair. “Did the vigilante make another appearance?”

“No.” Vincent descended the stairs into the chamber. “He never returned. Since all the vigilante’s attacks have taken place at night, I decided I would come get some food and rest. Tonight after dark, I’ll go to Catherine and tell her what we found. Hopefully, the information will help her find this man and bring him to justice.”

Father looked askance at him for a moment, then asked, “You’re not… still angry with her… are you? For her fear… and doubt?”

“No, Father. I was never angry with her. Just… hurt.” He watched Father frown and raise his eyebrows, then he sighed and clarified, “A part of me was very angry at the situation. But the target of that anger was only the circumstances that made her afraid, never her.” He sat in a chair in front of the desk. “In my heart… I know she is right to be afraid. I know what I am capable of. I know what can happen when that part of me is loosed. But that part would rather…” he cleared his throat, then said quietly, “would rather… prove to her that… I can be gentle… that she is safe with me.”

“Vincent, you know you can’t –”

“I know, Father. You don’t need to remind me. I know that even if my intent is to be gentle, I would never mean to hurt her, but…” He left the sentence unfinished.

Father smiled softly, saying, “I remember, too, Vincent.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his desktop. “And I know you are… strong enough and… wise enough to… make prudent decisions.”

Vincent forced his shoulders up and straight, maintaining a calm façade, so Father could not guess the inexplicable despondency that beset him just then.

“Well, you’d best retire. Get some rest.”

“Of course, Father.” Vincent stood, heading for his chamber, trying to discern where the strange emotion originated. He knew he could never be anything more to Catherine than a friend. Why did that thought rankle his inner self?

* * *

When Catherine arrived at work, the Criminal Courts Building buzzed in a flurry of activity over the subway slasher’s attack against the transit officer. She met Joe waiting for an elevator, an angry scowl carved across his face.

“Tell me you’ve found something, Radcliffe,” he seethed. “I want this guy caught. I want him yesterday. You heard he attacked a cop last night?”

“Yes, Joe, I heard on the radio on my way in.” Catherine shook her head.

The throng of people that entered the elevator with Catherine and Joe separated them, making conversation difficult.

“He crossed a line,” Joe declared, once they left the lift and headed down the hall toward their offices. “Being a vigilante was bad enough. But last night, attacking that cop, he proved he’s not in this to protect people; he knows what he’s doing is wrong. He needs to be stopped.”

Catherine had never seen Joe so angry before.

“Joe, I know you said not to look at Jason Walker.” Catherine followed him through the double doors of the Investigation Bureau and down the hall toward his office. “But considering the statement of the woman the slasher rescued last night, I think you should hear me out.”

“What does her statement have to do with anything?”

“She said he was like an animal, claws and all. No one ever gave us that much before; they either wanted to protect their rescuer or thought no one would believe them. When I interviewed Walker again yesterday, he talked about a myth that circulates among the street people, about a beast who protects people. He alluded to this myth as a possible foundation for the slasher. Said we still wanted heroes, of the larger-than-life kind. And among the weapons displayed on his wall is a pair of braces, with claws like a bear and straps so you can tie them to your hands.

“Joe, Walker’s the kind of man that thinks the rules aren’t good enough. I can see him spreading a myth like this to… even the scales, put criminals on alert, and think he was doing the right thing by acting it out, even playing the hero. I know he’s had an alibi for all the attacks, but I want to investigate this further… see if I can prove, one way or the other, whether he could be involved. I just think he’s the most likely suspect, and we need to pursue this.”

“All right, Radcliffe,” Joe reluctantly agreed, opening his office door. “Dig. But you better find gold. I don’t want time wasted on this.”

“Understood, Joe.” Catherine left his office and went to the computer room. “Edie,” she called when she saw her friend, “tell me you can help me.”

Edie gave her a dubious look, saying, “Tell me what you need first.”

Catherine sat in an empty chair beside Edie, replying, “Everything we can get our hands on about Jason Walker and the Protectors.”

“Everything, huh?” Edie looked at the monitor and began typing. “That’s a whole lot. How much of everything do you actually need?”

“First, I need Walker’s alibis for the attacks. Then, I want a roster of the Protectors. Who are they, is there a hierarchy, does Walker have any distinct members who form any kind of… inner circle that he would trust with secrets. And do any of them have incidents in their past that would make them untrustworthy of the legal system or might make them think the slasher would be justified? Anything you can find that might link any of them to the slasher.”

“Everything,” Edie acknowledged half-heartedly. “Got it.”

Catherine grinned, saying, “Thank you.” She went to her desk and started digging into what she already had on Jason Walker. After she received new files from Edie, she combed through them, cross-referencing and making connections. While she took a working lunch at her desk, Joe stopped to speak with her.

“Found anything yet?” he asked.

“Very suspicious circumstantial evidence,” she replied, looking up at him. “Walker has two people who’ve corroborated his alibi for every attack, and they are each other’s alibis. No one else saw them together. They could be lying, but we can’t prove it.”

He nodded, saying, “Well, keep digging. Maybe you’ll find something more.”

“I’m about to check out their backgrounds. I’m guessing they both had problems of one kind or another that would make them sympathetic to the slasher.” She arched one eyebrow and gave half a smile. “Any bets on whether I’m right?”

Joe chuckled, responding, “I’m smarter than that. Keep me posted.” Then he returned to his office.

* * *

“So, Jace,” posed Red, taking a seat in Jace’s office at Protectors Headquarters, “you told Suki the Slasher ‘took care of some business’ last night. You didn’t say anything about a transit cop. What happened?”

“Well… from what I heard,” Jace smirked and chuckled, “the cop tried to arrest the Slasher for defending someone. The poor girl was getting manhandled by some punk, the Slasher stopped him – and he won’t be reoffending – but the cop didn’t care about that. Just pulled his gun and tried to apprehend… the Slasher.”

“Why is it cops are never there when you need them,” put in Suki, sitting beside Red, “but if you take care of things yourself, suddenly you’re just as bad as the criminals? How is that right?”

“No kidding,” agreed Red. “So, where do we go from here?”

“Business as usual,” Jace stated. “What did you find out about Ms. Chandler yesterday?”

“She stays busy with work,” Red told him. “After she came to see you, she went straight to the courthouse and didn’t leave until evening. Then she went home. I found a building with a ladder fire escape – the kind with a steel scaffold for safety – that I can perch on to get a view of her balcony. I watched her with binoculars until she went to bed. I never saw her leave or even take a phone call. For being a socialite, she’s not very social. Today, after Suki let me know you wanted me to come give an update, I peeked in the office before coming here. She even took her lunch alone at her desk.”

“Well, you only saw one day,” remarked Jace. “Thanks for keeping eyes on her. You better get back before she leaves work. Suki, you want to give him a ride back, please?”

“Sure thing,” she replied, rising.

Red stood up as he said, “I’ll let you know if I see anything out of the ordinary.”

Jace watched his people leave, unable to shake the feeling that Catherine Chandler would be a problem.

* * *

“So, do you think Jace is right about this Chandler woman?” Red asked Suki as she drove the taxi they shared for work, taking him back to the courthouse.

“That she might be a problem?” she clarified. “It’s hard to say. I don’t know what she could find that might link us to anything. We’ve been careful. Still, I trust Jace’s judgment.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

Suki pulled the cab halfway into an alley a block away from the courthouse, and they both alighted. They walked to the front of the vehicle and embraced.

“You just be careful,” Suki admonished him. “If she spots you following her, she’ll only be more suspicious. We don’t need any extra questions.”

“I will be. Jace said Isaac Stubbs trained her, so I’ve been giving her as much of a wide berth as I can without losing her. She pays attention to her surroundings better than most. Keeps me on my toes. But she hasn’t spotted me yet.”

“See that she doesn’t.”

“Meet me in front of the courthouse at six? That should be close to when she leaves work.”

“I’ll be there. Call me if she leaves earlier.” She stretched up on her toes and received a kiss from him before they parted.

* * *

Just before checking out for the day, Catherine took her notepad to Joe’s office and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” called Joe.

She opened the door to find him sitting at his desk, poring over paperwork. He looked up at her as she sat in a chair across from him.

“Did you find anything?”

Catherine nodded, informing him, “Regarding the two Protectors covering for Walker, one is Red Thompson, who suffered a terrible beating and mugging on the subway a few years prior to Jason Walker establishing the Protectors. The three teenagers who mugged him never faced prosecution. The other is Suki Hanson, who… experienced a… violent assault on the subway,” she watched Joe grimace, “just ten months before the formation of the Protectors. The man that attacked her received a minimal sentence, further shortened by parole for good behavior. Both sought training from Walker after their attacks and helped found the Protectors.”

“So, both have an ax to grind,” he summed up.

“That’s a safe bet. The other interesting thing is that during every attack they claimed to be together at Protectors Headquarters, in Jace’s office discussing business. No one was with them, no one saw them together, so no one can corroborate. Who’s to say if they were really there or if one of them managed to sneak out somehow?”

“You make a good point, but the trick is proving it.”

“I’ll think on it tonight and see if I get any inspiration. Have a good night, Joe.”

“You, too, Radcliffe.”

* * *

Vincent sat across from Winslow at dinner at a small table next to the dining chamber wall and apart from the long tables most people occupied, enjoying William’s delicious cooking as quickly as possible.

“So,” Winslow said, then he smirked and murmured, “handsome.” He watched Vincent smile wryly and shake his head. “I assume you’re going to visit Catherine tonight? As fast as you’re eating, I’m guessing right after supper?”

“Yes,” Vincent nodded as he spoke. “I will tell her what we’ve discovered. Hopefully she will be able to use the information to put a stop to this nonsense.”

“Will she be able to do that without exposing us?”

“Catherine can be trusted to protect us. I’m sure she will find a way to keep our secret. She does care about all of us.”

“You in particular.”

“She highly values our friendship.”

“You sure that’s all it is?” Winslow grinned at his oldest friend.

“I’m sure that’s all it can ever be.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Vincent. And don’t put this relationship in a box. I have a hunch this can grow into something quite wonderful for you. And you deserve it and can handle it, no matter what… some folks say.”

“Thank you for the kind words, Winslow. But I can never forget the last time I believed that, nor the… aftermath.”

“Don’t get me started on that self-absorbed, incurable tease. That girl –”

“Yes, I know what you think. Let’s not rehash it, please.”

“Are you saying Catherine might be like that?” Winslow frowned, pausing in his eating. “Do I need to reevaluate my opinion of her?”

“Not at all. Catherine harbors no such feelings. Still, I will maintain my vigilance to keep our relationship… within appropriate bounds. I cannot allow the same thing to happen with Catherine.”

Winslow shook his head, replying, “Everyone deserves love, Vincent. If you’re lucky enough to find it, don’t squander it.” He watched the man across from him raise his eyebrows and tilt his head in a characteristic display of obstinacy.

“Well,” Vincent began gathering his empty dishes, “I should get going. It will be dark soon and I want to get this information to Catherine as soon as possible.” He stood, turned away from the table, then turned back. “Thank you, Winslow. I do hear what you’re saying. But I’m not yet at the place where… I can hope. Still, I appreciate the thought.” He smiled at his friend, then took his dinnerware to the bussing tubs.

As he traveled through the tunnels to Catherine’s home, he could not forget Winslow’s words. What if Catherine wanted more from this relationship than he could give? What would he do? While he scoffed at the mere idea, he felt his inner self prime in anticipation.

No! he thought, slamming the door on such reverie. That can never be! He could not risk a repeat of his greatest failure. He would not risk Catherine for selfishness.

* * *

Suki picked Red up at the appointed time, then parked where they could unobtrusively watch the doors of the courthouse to keep an eye out for Catherine Chandler. At half-past six, they saw her emerge from the courthouse and climb into a taxi. They pulled into traffic, following the other cab, then drove a short way beyond when it dropped her at her high-rise. Darkness fell as they waited there for another hour, watching the front door in case she came out again. Then Suki drove to the building Red had found the night before, with the fire escape he would use to watch her balcony.

“You be careful up there,” Suki said, stopping near the ladder for Red. “No falling.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Red leaned toward her, kissing her before stepping out of the cab. “There’s a payphone at the next corner,” he said through the open door. “I’ll call you if anything interesting happens.”

“Do that.” She gave him a smile, then watched him shut the door and position himself near the ladder. When he pulled out his binoculars and began scanning the façade of Catherine Chandler’s complex, she pulled away.