Pursuit Of The Cygnus Thief

Chapter 31 - Life And Death

Chapter 31

“Life And Death”

     From Silver Road, three sets of headlights suddenly brightened the jammed street as they rounded the corner a few dozen yards from the Blodget’s house. The trio of vehicles rolled slowly into the cul-de-sac, the crowd parted, they’d made way for Mr. Abel, my father, and Father Gabriel. The prevailing demeanor shifted from angry to jittery and quiet. It was an uncomfortable and unlikely alliance. Both Mr. Abel, and my father for reasons unspeakable and well past, detested Father Gabriel and treated him accordingly. My father showed only slight tolerance for Mr. Abel, and Mr. Abel though smarmy publicly, had expressed a dislike for my father to me on more than a single occasion. For his part, Father Gabriel usually did what little Assumption’s confines afforded to avoid both men when possible. They pulled up to the Blodget house behind the cars aimed at it on the lawn. With the crowd thinned at that point, I saw three faceless figures illuminated by headlights in the Blodget’s front yard. Two figures, both their legs encased by torn nylons, kneeled over to shield the one in pants that was prone. All three Blodgets were surrounded by reddened wet short grass, and decorative pebbles that had also been bloodied. 

     Next to me, John watched the proceedings, muttered something about hell, and shoved both hands into his pockets. My father got out of his truck. My heart seemed to creep up into my throat. I suddenly felt the cold night reach right through my bathrobe and pajamas. It could have gone wrong. My father had apparently entrusted his well-being to Mr. Abel and Father Gabriel who held nothing of the sway Mr. Abel wielded. It had been only a nebulous feeling before, but in those moments, as my father neared the Blodgets, and parted them, the full horrific potential slammed into my thoughts. Mr. Abel would benefit if my father were dead. I’d started forward. I’d wanted to leave the safety of the darkened porch and warn my father. This time John snatched up my wrist.

“Not a good idea kid,” he whispered. John’s grip was like iron. I couldn’t tug away. I stood still, and watched like everyone else while inside I panicked.

     My father gathered up Mr. Blodget, hoisted him over one shoulder, and for a moment, I saw that Mr. Blodget’s injury was in the back of his skull. Likely, a brick or large rock had been lobbed while Mr. Blodget had been turned away. From the ground, Mrs. Blodget clutched and mumbled at her fallen husband though she bled copiously from her mouth and a wound somewhere behind her hairline, my father said something to reassure her. Then, he carried Mr. Blodget into the house. Mary’s face and hands were filthy, but she appeared to be more alert than she had been earlier at the tavern. She’d sustained no new injuries at the hands of the crowd from what I could see. Both Blodget women clutched at one another, they remained on their knees while Mrs. Blodget, her face in view of the car headlights quivered, fought tears, shielded her daughter from the crowd.

    The crowd whispered, the crowd edged forward a little. Mr. Abel emerged from his car and stepped into the convergence of headlights. He planted himself in front of the Blodgets and stood straight. Mr. Abel appeared to scan each face in the crowd although that was impossible for him in the glare of lights. While others had arrived in front of the Blodget's house in a partial state of unruliness and haphazardly clothed, Mr. Abel was clean-shaven and had arrived on the scene dressed for a game of golf. Freddy had said many times that his father sometimes kept the servants awake so that he could tee-off for hours by stadium light, or bake pastries while on the telephone with business contacts from all over the world.

    With his hands on his hips and his feet apart, Mr. Abel seemed to tower over everyone else. He definitely peered down his nose, then tilted his head in the way Mrs. Parrish found especially despicable. Him and that ain’t-I-so-cute-nod-of-the-devil. No grown man should ever do that! Mr. Abel grinned and shook his head negatively as if amused by the antics of misbehaved children. My mood did not ease. My father was in that house, he could be trapped within at Mr. Abel’s word.