Don't Shoot the "Messenger", Ch. 63

The morning light filtered into the suite, as Todd woke. For the first time in over a week, Blair was back where she belonged. She was lying across his chest, a way she frequently ended up. She had once told him she just loved hearing his heartbeat under her and when she was having a restless night, it calmed her.

            His fingers began playing with her silky hair absentmindedly as he recalled the laughter and joy that had filled their room the previous night. It had been great. Right in the middle of all the happy thoughts, the reality of yesterday’s news hit him like ice water. Mitch was dead. “Samuel, what do I do? I can’t tell her right now. She’s happy, I don’t want to spoil things for her.”

           “Would you want her to keep such a thing from you?” Samuel inquired.

           “Hell no, but after everything she’s been through I’m afraid to bring him up.”

           “So you’ll lie to her, tell her you’re headed up to Philadelphia on business. Is that fair? This whole new relationship has been based on being truthful. Are you going to risk that and go back to lying when it suits you?”

           “Damn it, I wouldn’t do that again, but I’m scared she‘ll disappear.”

           “Todd, she’s stronger than that. I’m betting she’ll hold up better than you think. Tell her. She needs to know.”

            Blair had awakened as Todd was stroking her hair. When his hand stilled, she looked up at him to see if he had fallen back to sleep, but he seemed to be staring off in the distance. “Todd, are you alright?”

           Todd blinked and brought his focus back to Blair. “Good morning, I was talking to Samuel. I need to tell you something. I found it out yesterday but didn’t want to spoil your homecoming.”

           Blair felt slightly queasy at his words. She wrapped her arm around him and held him closer. “What is it, Todd? Don’t hold back. It’s about Mitch isn’t it?”

            Even as she said his name, Todd felt her shiver against him. “Alright, here it is. Mitch is dead.” He waited for a reaction, unsure what he would get.

            “Please tell me he was found gutted like the pig he was.” She said, her shivering stopped.

            “I wish I could. Unfortunately he died of a heart attack, according to his death certificate.”

             Blair pushed herself off his chest and sat looking down at him. “Are you serious? A heart attack.” She threw off the covers and climbed out of bed. “Damn! Damn! Damn! It’s not fair. I wanted him to suffer.” She paced angrily, grabbed one of the pillows and threw it across the room.

Todd jumped out of bed and quickly reined her in. “Hey! You’re supposed to be taking it easy, not raising your blood pressure. Come on, sit down and take some deep breaths.” He led her back to the bed and they sat down next to each other. He held her hands and looked into her eyes. “ I feel the same way you do. I wanted to throttle someone yesterday. That’s why I have to go into Philadelphia this morning.”

Blair frowned. “I don’t understand, why Philadelphia?”

“That’s where his funeral is taking place at 11:00 a.m., I’ve got to be there, I need to make sure he’s put in the ground, never to return again.”

“Todd, I want to go with you.” Blair reached for his face. She could see the turmoil in his eyes as he questioned the validity of the facts.

“No way Babe, I won’t take the chance of you losing this baby because of him. Trust me on this. I’ll make sure he’s good and dead. I promise.” Todd took her hand and kiss her wrist.

As much as she hated to admit it, she wouldn’t risk her child just to get revenge on Mitch. “I would have loved scratching out his eyes, even if he was dead. You’re right though, I’ll stay home.”

Todd chuckled “That’s my she-wolf. We’re going to be alright. Mitch is the final loser in all this.”

Blair looked over at the clock. “You better hurry and get ready. I take it you want to get there during the viewing.”

“You’re right, I need to make sure someone isn’t trying to pull a fast one on us.” An hour later, Todd peeled away in his car, headed for Philadelphia.

At Llanfair, Nigel was getting last minute instructions from Master Clint.

“Nigel, I want to make certain you’re okay with this plan.”

“Sir, you told me not too long ago that I was a member of this family. I’ve seen the harm that Mitch Laurence exacted. If he has in fact found a way to hoodwink the authorities, then I have no qualms helping you and Mr. Manning with your plan. In fact, it would be an honor to be your standin on this one.”

“Thank you, Nigel. You’re a good friend. You better get out of here then. Manning doesn’t have a whole lot of patience.”

Yes, sir. I’ll call you when I head home.” Nigel looked at Clint, who nodded, then calmly reached for his morning paper as Nigel departed..

***

It had been a strange ride from Llanview. Alison had been humming for most of the trip her hands rubbing her stomach. It was almost as if she didn’t realize she was going to her husband’s funeral. John overheard her talking to the baby at one point.

“Don’t you worry little one, Mommy is going to see Daddy and everything will be alright.” Alison smiled to herself, her thoughts going back to the message she had received shortly before hearing about Mitch’s death.

Don’t believe what you hear. All part of Plan.

Kipling.

P.S. I trust your acting skills, my dear.

The foolish police had no idea who they were dealing with. It was all too easy.

John looked over at the officer driving. He, too, had heard the comment and only shook his head. It was obvious Alison was in her own little world when it came to Mitch. They arrived at the funeral home with an hour to spare. All had been arranged to give Alison a special viewing of her husband privately. The officer who had driven the car and two Philadelphia police officers blocked all doors leading into the room where the casket was displayed. They weren’t taking any chances that someone might attempt to free Alison. Several other officer were also available to ensure order during the funeral.

John stood back and let Alison approach the casket by herself. He would have his own chance to make sure it was Mitch. For now, he felt sympathy for Alison. She was one crazy woman and she had shot Vicki, but in her own warped way she had been deeply in love with Mitch Laurence. Now she had lost him and she would soon be losing the baby she was carrying to Family Services. The child would be placed in the system and found a good home elsewhere if there was no other family member able to take care of it.

Alison approached the casket. Speaking loudly for the Lieutenant’s hearing, she said. “Oh, my poor sweet Messenger. How did this happen? You were so alive, so virile. It’s not fair after everything we went through to save you.” Alison bent low as if to kiss her husband, but in reality she whispered close to his ear. “My sweet, soon you’ll be free of your troublesome past and the police will bother you no more. I trust Kipling. I await the day when we will be reunited.” She kissed his lips, her hand touching his face briefly. Raising her handkerchief to her face, she inhaled the onion oil it had been drenched in and immediately tears began to flow down her cheek. She sobbed heavily and collapsed in a chair. She watched covertly under the guise of crying, as Lieutenant McBain headed to check out Mitch.

John looked dispassionately at the man lying in front of him. He even took a moment to unobtrusively take a pulse. There was nothing. The mortician had done an excellent job on Mitch, he almost appeared to be sleeping. “ You’re lucky you’re really dead Laurence, if I had gotten to you first, this would have been a closed casket funeral,” he said softly. Signaling to the officers, John walked to Alison and drew her into a second room. It was reserved for family and had a private window to view the funeral. John had been pleased to see the private room when they arrived, the last thing he wanted to do was fend off followers of The Messenger.

Todd arrived at the funeral home just as the service got under way. He had let Blair believe he wanted to get there before the service, but in reality, he had used the time to gather a couple of things he would need and then he had met with Nigel. After making sure all their plans were lined up, Nigel had left to complete his task and await Todd’s arrival. Todd had, in turn, headed for the funeral.

He spent the next few minutes checking out the facility. A call made to the funeral home on the way to Philadelphia had informed him that Mitch was slated for cremation following the service. Upon hearing that Todd was now convinced it was a fake out. Mitch was going to make sure the police got some ashes, they just wouldn’t be his. As Todd rounded the corner of the mortuary, he spotted a hearse parked outside the crematorium. Under the normal circumstance that would have seemed usual practice. The big difference was that it wasn’t just parked, it was manned. The driver was waiting for something. “I’ll get to you later,” Todd said under his breath and headed back into the mortuary searching out the funeral director. He located the office and knocked.

“Come in,” came the reply.

Todd entered and letting his shoulders slump began what he hoped would be a sincere act. “Excuse me, sir. But I wonder if you could possibly help me out. My name is Walker Laurence and I just now arrived in town for my brother’s funeral. Unfortunately, I was too late for the viewing. My brother and I were estranged for a number of years and his death hit me hard. I realized I would never be able to repair that fracture, but I was hoping you could give me a few minutes alone with him following the service.

“Oh, indeed sir, please accept my sympathies. We had no idea he had anyone else beside his wife. You are aware I hope, that per his wishes he is being cremated.”

“Yes, I called ahead since I knew my arrival was delayed.”

“Dear me, that was you. I do apologize. I would never have delivered that information so bluntly if I had known you were his brother.”

“That’s quite alright, but now you see why I would like a few minutes with him. I have so much to say and I know there isn’t much time.” Todd covered his face with his handkerchief and let his shoulders shake giving the impression he was upset.

The director moved from behind his desk, “Sir, if you wish to compose yourself, I’ll return and get you when the service is finished and you may have some time alone with your brother.”

***

While Todd had gone to the mortuary, Nigel headed for the cemetery they had picked for the funeral. He pulled up to the modest offices and entered. “Excuse me. I’m looking for the director of this cemetery.’’

A distinguished gentlemen around fifty came around the counter. “I’m Harold Jenkins, the director here. How may I help you?”

“My name is Nigel Gladstone and I’m here for my employer. He was recently informed of the sudden death of his brother. This morning his brother was flown into Philadelphia. When my employer arrived to receive his brother he was told there was a problem, a health issue. You can imagine his dismay to find out his brother hadn’t been properly prepared for the flight.” Nigel managed to let his voice catch to indicate his feelings for his employer. “I’m sorry I‘ve served Mr. Laurence for a long time,” he took out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes. “I’ve never heard my employer so upset. He wasn’t even allowed to view his brother.”

“That is positively dreadful. Are you alright, can I get you some water?”

“I’m fine. Mr. Laurence is like a son to me although I would never presume to let him know that. I promised him I would take care of things and so I’m here. I’ve been instructed to prepare a decent funeral for his brother as quick as it can be arranged. Money is no object but we would like the best you can offer us on such short notice.” Nigel knew the director was fully engaged in the problem and wouldn’t think to ask for the red tape items normally needed for a funeral. His suspicions were confirmed by the next words out of the director’s mouth.

“My dear sir, of course we’ll be glad to accommodate your employer. You said your employer was getting his brother this morning. Am I to assume he would like the funeral to take place today?”

“He would. He lives here in north Philadelphia and has always admired this cemetery. Mr. Laurence thought his brother would feel at peace in such a restful site. He also requested that it be in a secluded corner if there are any plots left.”

“We have a lovely garden at the back of the cemetery that I’m sure will fulfill your needs. If you come with me, I’ll begin arrangements immediately.” By 12:00, the plot had been picked and the cemetery was preparing the site.

***

John kept an eye on the people who came to give their respect. He couldn’t believe how all of them could have followed Laurence so blindly, but Alison was living proof that there were some who didn’t need drugs to keep them attached to Mitch. When the service ended, he allowed Alison a few more minutes with Mitch and then escorted her out to the car. “You remain here. I’m sorry for your loss,” he said to her, and turned to the driver. “Keep an eye on her and I’ll go see when the ashes will be ready for pick up.” Then he turned and re-entered the Mortuary. He never saw the lone figure standing by Mitch’s casket as he passed the salon and headed for the director’s office.

Todd stood looking down at his long-standing enemy. “Well, you certainly look dead, but looks can be deceiving.” Mitch lay in repose, his hand atop a bible. Todd reached in and touched Mitch’s skin. It was soft to the touch and not quite as cold as Todd would have suspected. “Wow, whoever embalmed you is a master, or is he.” He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small knife. Very carefully he made a small cut just under one of Mitch’s fingernails and watched fascinated as blood emerged. “Kipling’s good. He found a way to make it appear you died of a heart attack. I can’t find a pulse but dead men don’t bleed. You haven’t been embalmed and I’m guessing there’s more to this plan. You’re probably not going to stay zombified much longer, Kipling had to give you something to help you breathe if you came to before they could get the casket back in their possession.” Todd searched the casket but came up empty and then realized there was one other hiding place. He carefully removed the bible and opened it.

Minutes later, Todd heard footsteps coming his way. He leaned over and sobbed against his brother, “I sorry this ended the way it did. I know you’re going to your just reward.” He stood up when the director touched his shoulder. “Thank you for these minutes, you have no idea how much it meant to me. Tell me is there a door to the crematorium. As there is no graveside service, I would at least like to see where my brother will finally rest.” He was directed to a side exit and Todd left making his way to the crematorium. Now it was time to make the acquaintance of the driver of the hearse.

Coming up alongside the driver, Todd peeled off fifteen one thousand dollar bills and tapped the side of the window. He fanned the money so the driver could see the total amount. When the window opened he spoke. “There’s been a change of plans. I’ve been instructed to tell you ‘Thank you’, and you’re to get lost for a while. This should go a long way towards a nice vacation.”

“You serious, mister? Wow, I never would have thought the boss would be so generous. My wife would love a long cruise. Here’s the key, but how am I going to get home.”

Todd pulled another fifty from his pocket. “Take a cab on me.” He watched the guy leave and then spotted the door to the mortuary, opening. He grabbed the man’s hat and put it on and hit the button unlocking the back door. He strolled back and opened it, standing behind it for cover. All the mortuary people could see was his hat and eyes. Sure enough, they headed towards him instead of the doorway to the crematorium. Saying nothing, they pushed Mitch’s casket in, nodded, and returned back to the mortuary. As Todd pulled away, he saw John McBain walk into the crematorium. Obviously, John wanted to make sure Mitch met his end too.

Shortly after getting on the road, he received the call he had been waiting for. “Talk to me.”

“It all been arranged, Sir. All you need to do is pick up a friend of mine. He knows the cemetery and will be your driver.”

“Thanks Nigel, see you soon.” Todd drove to the location Nigel had given him and picked up an older gentleman, who took over as driver of the hearse. An acquaintance of Nigel’s, he had been happy to help.

“Nigel informed me of your brother’s tragic death. It is a shame you had to drive him this far on your own, but we’ll make sure he gets a proper sendoff now. You may call me Smythe, sir. Please accept my deepest sympathy, Mr. Laurence.”

“Thank you.” Todd had to hand it to Nigel. Arriving at the cemetery driving the hearse himself would have been highly suspicious. Nigel was definitely on the ball.

Smythe turned into the entrance of an old established cemetery and made his way down the winding streets to a secluded back area where Nigel was waiting with a minister and the cemetery director. The five of them carefully carried the casket to its resting place. Nigel placed a bouquet of flowers on top as Todd shuddered . The minister looked at him with sympathy as did Smythe and the director. Little did they realize he had shuddered because it galled him that Mitch was even getting this send off. But he had to keep playing the part.

He squared his shoulders like he was trying to get his emotions under control and watched stoically as the casket was lowered into the ground. As part of the graveside service, family was usually given the option of having the minister recite something at that point or waiting until the casket was completely covered. Todd had Nigel inform the cemetery of his wishes for the latter. At the signal from the director, a small bulldozer quickly filled in the grave, then departed leaving Todd with the minister, Nigel, Smythe and the director beside him. After a few words from the minister, everyone moved away to give Todd a moment alone.

“Well, this is it, you bastard. You’ll never harm my family again. I’m sure they’re waiting with open arms for you down in hell.” Todd turned and walked away never looking back. As he neared Nigel, he said. “He’s dead Nigel, you can rest easy tonight. Pass the message on to Clint.”

“He’ll be pleased to hear that. Are you alright, sir?”

Todd looked over at Nigel in surprise. “I’m fine, this is one chapter of my life that is finally finished. Nigel?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thanks for everything.”

“They’re my family, too, Sir.” Nigel left to finish his job. He thanked the Minister and the director for helping expedite the rushed service. Then he took one last look at the grave, turned, and walked to his car, where he waited on Todd and Smythe to leave.

Todd let Smythe drive the car back to where he had originally picked him up. When Todd began to reach for his wallet, Smythe stopped him. “You’re a friend of my friend. I hope the rest of your day is more pleasant.” Smythe nodded and walked away.

Todd got in and drove back to the mortuary, parking the car next to other hearses and walked to where he had left his car. He raised his head, straightened his shoulders, and took a deep breath. It was over. He got into his car and headed back to Dragonheart and his family.

***

Mitch woke up a little disoriented and then remembered where he was. At first, he panicked. The thought of being enclosed in the casket scared him, but he forced himself to calm down. Relax, you idiot. Kipling told you this might happen. Think, he told you what to do. God, I thought there might be a little light in here. Mitch felt around trying to open the lid. It was stuck down good and solid. He slowed his breathing determined to not use up the air in the box, the last thing he wanted to do was have to use the little oxygen cylinder. He didn’t know how long he laid there, but the air in the box started getting heavy. Damn it, what’s taking them so long? I should have been back to Kipling’s by now. He wanted to start yelling but he couldn’t take the chance the wrong person might hear him.

A short time later Mitch began having trouble breathing. Something’s not right. Enough of this shit. I’m going to start yelling. Someone was going to pay for leaving him in there for so long. Kipling and Carlo were probably having fun at his expense. “Carlo! Kipling! Get me out of here!“ There was no answer and Mitch began fumblings for his bible. He opened it and reached in for the cylinder. At least he could get some good breaths and space them out until they decided to let him free. His hand pulled the cylinder out, but it wasn’t the mini oxygen tank. The shape was all wrong, there was no mouthpiece. A chill went down Mitch’s spine as his fingers pushed the button he found. The voice was easily recognized and Mitch could only stare into the darkness as the words reverberated through his coffin.

The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

Vengeance is mine sayeth “This” Lord.

May you rot in Hell forever.

Rest in Peace Mitch Laurence Rest in Peace

“NOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” In desperation Mitch began clawing at the interior of the box. It couldn’t be. Kipling had assured him that no one would suspect he was alive. Yet somehow Manning had figured it out. Where did Manning have him? The man didn’t have the guts to kill him. He was probably playing this trick on him and then the police would let him out and take him away. Mitch reached the wood on the underside of the lid and began punching his fist into it repeatedly in the same spot. Thanks to the nanobots in his system, he was in excellent shape. He had told Kipling to get one of the cheaper models. No sense spending good money on a fake funeral. Now he was grateful, he felt the wood beginning to give and finally rammed his fist through.

Unthinking, he opened his hand and brought it down instantly, and to his horror, he felt dirt, thick and cool began pouring through. He struggled to grab the torn fabric, then pushed it up into the dirt and stuffed it into the hole. The fabric held, but Mitch knew it was only a matter of time. He would be dead soon from lack of oxygen. Do unto others as they do unto you. Manning had done just that. He started laughing. “Until we meet in hell, at least your lovely wife will always have a remembrance of me.” As he slowly gasped for air, his hand dropped heavily to his side and touched the switch on Todd’s device lying next to him, turning it back on. The last words he heard were “REST IN PEACE MITCH LAURENCE, REST IN PEACE.”.

Evening fell as the last rays of sunshine fell on the new grave. A small flag marked the grave, where a permanent gravestone would soon reside. Written on it was M. Laurence. 7/27/2012.