High Road

Chapter 6
Further Review

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Chapter Description: LaCrone makes new friends, gets an offer from a criminal and a cop (different people), and uses a fake license. Hilarity ensues*. Note: This chapter jumps around a bit chronologically. Bear that in mind. *Hilarity does not actually ensue.

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LaCrone was particularly annoyed to find that his next suspect was not among the living. Carrie Fowl was long suspected to be a proponent of child abuse, having a violent past with her wife in their relatively isolated Massachusetts suburb. Most of the neighbors were shocked to hear bouts going on in her house, and charges were brought up against both herself and Katherine Fowl, her wife, multiple times for violence, but charges were always dropped and the neighbors didn’t know what to do. The bottom line was, abuse and physical violence is a rarity among homosexual couples, but Katy and Carrie fought worse than most couples of any type anywhere. When Katy disappeared, Carrie adopted a daughter and named her Katy, for her wife’s memory, supposedly. She had waited a week before the adoption, but it was still quite soon. Carrie’s visage, the neighbors had reported, was never again plagued by bruises, but little Katy mirrored her would-be foster mother in her own, though her mother always claimed Katy had garnered them from playing too many games outdoors, which the young girl corroborated. Katy had recently been taken away to an orphanage as a result of Carrie dying after an unexplained fire consumed her in her sleep, while Katy was staying at a neighborhood friend’s house. Peter already had his suspicions about the goings-on at the Fowl residence, but he first had several important investigatory interrogations to undergo. His discussions with the neighbors were only somewhat enlightening, and his questioning of Mrs. Fowl’s lawyer, who now stood caretaker for Katherine Fowl, the sole benefactor, until her eighteenth birthday, was uneventful. He growled in frustration at his visage in his personal mirror before pocketing his wallet. Still, he was looked old enough to claim his rank and command his subordinates, and that’s all he cared about.

Upon sitting down with Katy, he structured his questioning carefully and led off boldly. He could not help but notice her expression of bittersweet ambivalence toward her current position. When he approached her on the stairs, she had been distantly staring out at the other children, who were at play at the time. He recalled his first question, “Why don’t you join them?” but she merely returned, “It is a childish game.” Curious, considering she appeared younger than a number of the participants. It was more curious still that she seemed so introverted, yet the story behind her wounds had always been ?outdoor games’. He sat down with her at a table upstairs and began his questions.

“Katherine, how long did you spend with your foster mother, Mrs. Carrie Fowl?”

She hesitated. “It’s Katy... not Katherine. I spent... I dunno, I lost track of time.”

LaCrone frowned. Most orphans knew their adoption dates by heart. Stranger still was the way her eyes were directed... As if she was looking at the top of his hair. Subtle... but he had noticed it. She was certainly hiding something.

“Kather...Katy, rather. Did your foster mother ever abuse you?”

“No, I just got hurt outside a lot.”

“Do you know how your foster mother died?”

“In a fire.”

“And how old are you now?”

For the second time Katy seemed evasive. This time, it was uncertainty, not secrecy, which LaCrone found far more interesting. “I’m... um... ten? I can’t remember when my birthday is supposed to be... we never celebrated.” LaCrone knew from her fake records that she was supposed to be nine. It could be an honest mistake, but he doubted it.

Peter sighed. “Katy, I’m going to cut to the chase here.” He reached onto the table and flipped off the tape recorder. “No one will hear this but either of us. Your records, all of them, from the adoption papers to the birth certificates to even the hospitals and orphanages that you supposedly came from are fake. I’m only going to ask this once, and I want you to consider your answer fully before you make it, because I doubt anyone will ever make this bold of an inquisition into your past ever again.” He took a breath. This was either going to make him look like an idiot or a genius.

“Katy, have you ever been older than you are right now?”

She didn’t laugh, she said nothing. She stared. It was not a good or a bad sign. Peter leaned in slightly and his breath held fast.

“Well?”

“You told me to consider my answer. I’m doing that. Lay off for a second.” And LaCrone waited.

It was a rare day that the good Inspector LaCrone would wait on the word of a nine-year-old, but it was also a rare day that LaCrone wouldn’t be able to pass for old enough to buy a beer.

“Why would you ask that?”

Peter inhaled sharply with the sudden question. “That’s not an answer.”

“Maybe I’m still considering.”

“Because if you answered yes to that question, I’m the only adult in the world right now who has a sane reason to believe you.”

“Why?”

“I need your answer first for that one, my little friend.”

She pouted silently for a moment, and then gave a solemn breath. “I think I was.”

“Was your name Katherine Fowl, wife of Carrie Fowl?” Katy disinclined her head slightly, but said nothing.

“You’re not getting adopted, you’re coming with me.”

The girl looked up, for the first time showing genuine terror in her eyes. “Not to some laboratory!”

“No... to my house. I told you I was the only adult who would believe you, not the only representative of a team of scientists who would believe you. Now let’s go before the orphanage notices I’m walking out with all of your legal documents.”

“What will they think?”

“They will think exactly what they should think. Katy Fowl was adopted to some rich West Virginian man, but the records will show she never existed. That’s because I intend to get you back to normal.”

“You can... do that?”

“Not yet, but I sure as Hell will find a way.”

---

“Jack, I need a favor.”

“What do you want?”

“I need you to accept or decline an operation I’m assigning to you before I describe it. No one, not even my superiors, are to know about this operation, understood? I am telling you to disobey direct orders about this case should anyone find out about it. The only circumstances this should ever be lifted is if I’m found dead, or I disappear for a month. Then, go straight to White.”

“Sounds hush, hush. I’ve always wanted this kind of case, what do you want from me?”

“I need that in a more legally binding phrase, please. I’m recording this call.”

“You’re recording yourself asking me to break governmental decorum? Ah, well. I accept this operation and all its liabilities, now can you tell me what you want?”

“All the lab data you have for the hormone I found at the place I got stabbed- I want you to run comparison tests against HGH1 and HGH2.”

“There’s no way this thing is somatotrophin, it’s definitely artificial. It could be a variant on HGH2, somatropin, the old rhHG compound, though. What makes you think it’s a growth hormone?”

“To the contrary, I think it’s being used to discourage cell reproduction, so instead of building muscles, like the abuse in the Olympics, it would tear them down.”

“In that case, I’ll run tests against somatostatin, that’s growth hormone inhibiting hormone, or GHIH.”

“Good, what can you do to test the infant we found for the hormone?”

“We already found trace amounts in his blood, but we couldn’t figure out what they affected. I’ll run tests to cross reference chemical imbalances in the thalamus: that’s where we’d see the difference. I gotta tell you though, LaCrone, this stuff only slows or stops growth... it doesn’t reverse it. Why do you keep babbling on about tearing down growth?”

“You were the one who said the hormone was man made. We do scary things in society Jack, and I sure as hell hope you’re as good a chemist as those big words you just used imply. Get back to me.”

“Wait! What’s your situation? Do you need a doctor? You were stabbed with the same stuff! Peter, talk to me!”

Peter closed his phone. He was closing on the train station anyway. Soon he’d need to speak with this girl, recently orphaned by a fire. What was her name? It was on the sheet... Peter brightened as he pulled into a parking spot. “Katy Fowl! That was it. Soon it’ll be time for some answers...”

---

As Peter edged about the city of Boston he only hoped he’d be at the airport soon. He planned to take a plane south and return to West Virginia to plan his next move. His first two suspects were close: just a train away really. He briefly considered a link with Cole Malone, who was himself based in Boston, but he dismissed the thought quickly.

All the creatures

On the beaches

Makin’ waves in a motion picture

“Hey, do you intend on playing with my music all day?”

“Only until we get out of the rental car.”

“Don’t let me forget the CD.”

“What band is this anyway?”

“The Red Hot Chili Peppers! Bah, you ask so many questions, I’d think you really were nine!” Katy looked away silently. Peter was not a fantastic people-person. “Katy... I didn’t mean...” His voice trailed off.

“Why do you care about my situation anyway?” She asked coldly.

“I’m in a similar predicament.”

“Do tell.”

“I’m not a college student, I’m thirty-five.”

“That’s a start. Spill it.”

Peter explained his situation to Katy, ranging from his first taking the case to his meeting with Jeremy White at the coffee shop, and finally his breakdown at the motel. He omitted a few details and didn’t bother to mention his encounter with Sara Ropes or meeting Katy, but she seemed to now have an easier time trusting him.

She smiled uneasily. “So it... hasn’t stopped yet for you?”

“No... are there signs I should watch for?”

“I didn’t see any... Carrie just told me if I behaved I wouldn’t go any younger. It was that, and because I figured no one would believe me about becoming... this that I decided to go along with it.”

“My original plan was just to solve this case before I lost the ability to drive myself around, but I have contingencies.”

“I hope you can solve it, honestly I do, Peter, but... you may end up even... well... worse off than I am.”

Peter shivered. “I know.”

---

“Why did you insist on coming along?”

“This is important to me too! You can’t just abandon me!”

It was true. After returning to West Virginia, over the past few days Peter had taken a liking to the twenty-eight-turned-nine-year-old girl. The sun was out, and it was now chasing the last vestiges of chill from their frosty hair, chilled by a mid morning rain at the train station. They had flown into Louisiana to investigate a man by the name of James Kimbor, AKA “Jimmy Kimbo”. Aside from being a confessed gambling addict, he had no criminal record, and he was square on his debts, so Peter considered him to be a fairly safe individual. He had stopped in West Virginia a few days to plan out his attack plan, but he hadn’t realized the chronological cost. By the time he rented his rental car in Monroe, he had to go through quite a bit of convincing with the staff on duty that he and his ?sister’ had the permission of their parents to rent a car for the weekend. He barely matched the sixteen year old photograph in his new fake license, which had been fairly easy to obtain earlier that week (since even fewer people try to make themselves seem younger in a fake ID).

Kimbor was a drinker, but not an alcoholic, and was a gentleman in all respects but his love for gambling. When Peter had first questioned him, he said that his gambling was the most likely reason his wife was driven away and disappeared without a trace. He said that originally he tried to fill the void in his heart by adopting a daughter, but soon realized that he couldn’t put her through the same heartbreak as his wife when he lost, and signed her away to new foster parents, a story LaCrone didn’t buy. He was a jovial white southerner with a strong accent and a sad but caring grin. LaCrone pondered what drove a man to be inspired with such an expression. Unlike Ropes or Fowl, Kimbor didn’t seem to have any motive to do anything to his wife. In fact, his friends and family, as well as his neighbors, testified that he loved and prized his wife above all else, and when she was gone, it was all he could do to not bawl constantly. When his adopted daughter Elisa was signed away, he sank into a depression and wouldn’t even speak to his remaining family for a week, much less gamble. Peter knew that even if the man was kind, he’d have to be careful: the neighbors had acted curious enough when he questioned them, and they weren’t even suspects. A sixteen year old was not suited to this task, and it would be even worse with his “kid sister”. Katy was no child, but she had already adapted to her role enough to fool adults, a niche Peter had yet to fill, constantly asserting himself. “When we get in there, we need to be careful, okay?”

“Just because I look like a kid doesn’t make me foolish: you should know that better than anyone, Peter.”

“Shut up, let’s go.”

Katy sighed before muttering to herself, “You always have to get the last word, don’t you?” They rang the doorbell and waited. It was not long before the door opened, which rewarded their efforts.

Mr. James Kimbor, or as he insisted on being called to the two guests, Jimmy Kimbo, was a relatively easy going man considering his bereaved status only days ago. Peter chuckled to himself, thinking, “He’s like a Hummer with a broken fuel cover. Siphoned.”

Peter himself had explained over the phone to ?Kimbo’ that he was an officer on an accelerated investigation program, and that he was conducting the interview on behalf of the city, noting that a junior officer was all that would be required. Jimmy took his seat in his Lazyboy as Peter began his questioning.

“So you always maintained a good relationship with your wife?”

“Always. You can ask anyone. She was the love of my life: I’d do anything for her. I was devastated when she left me.”

“She never left an explanation of her departure?”

“Actually yes, she did. I would have expected foul play otherwise... we’d always had such a great relationship...”

“Might I examine it? For the purpose for your alibi, of course.”

“Yes, yes! Go ahead. Here it is.” Jimmy went over to a desk drawer and withdrew a small note, which he passed to Peter. It was stained in some parts making the ink illegible, but the salt deposits around those stains suggested tears had been the perpetrators of the mutilation of the prose. The note itself, or at least what remained, read:

“Jimmy-

I’m leaving, I don’t know if I’ll be back... I need to get some things straightened out... We’re over... Please don’t worry about me, or try to contact me...

Terry.”

All in all, a fairly depressing break up note, if it was legitimate. Peter flashed a quick photo, which he texted to Jack back in the lab. Hopefully he’d be able to get a quick analysis of the handwriting. For reference, he went over to the refrigerator, still bearing sticky notes written by this ?Terry’, and flashed shots of those. He’d have to cross reference with legal documents she’d signed for confirmation of course, but more tests would be better.

“Mr. Kimbor...,”

“Please, call my Jimmy. Jimmy Kimbo.”

“Right... erm... Jimmy. You recently had a significant amount of debt to a local offshore casino. We contacted them, and apparently you now owe nothing. Why is that?”

He hesitated a moment. “They forgave my debt when my wife left, as a consolation gift.”

“I’ve never heard of a casino doing that.”

“Well, I guess I know the owner, and he’s a nice guy, okay?”

“The man you’re referring to used his gains to buy out a children’s hospital and have it bulldozed to expand his casino for new craps tables.”

“Well--,”

“On the note of hospitals, we’ve noticed you’ve had some interesting dealings with a certain New York hospital recently...” Peter held his breath. This was it. Would Kimbor bite his bluff?

“Hospital...you mean... York Valley?” York Valley? That was entirely different from York Hill. But Ropes said it was a sister institute. It would only be logical that if strange dealings were going on, it would be in a different building than one under police scrutiny.

“Absolutely. We know about all your dealings, Mr. Kimbor. Tell me everything and I’ll make sure charges are never even brought up.”

“I really don’t think someone your age....”

“If you know anything about York Valley, then you know looks can be deceiving.” Peter finished his statement darkly. Jimmy’s mouth hung open, his eyes widened, and he pushed back on his chair, elevating the front portion two inches off the ground.

“Then you’re--?”

“I’m the one asking questions, Mr. Kimbor. Tell me everything.”

“Okay, okay. Truth is, I hate the owner of the joint, but he has no way of finding out I’m telling you this. You have the witness protection program or something for people like me, right?”

“Provided you are a witness. That means you need to give me something good.”

“Yeah, don’t worry ?bout that. Well, you probably know I’m a gambler. A pretty good one most of the time, but I got a bit... arrogant. A made a big bet and lost all my savings. Everything. I could sell all my possessions and I’d still be in arrears, see? But the owner... offered me a way out. I asked him what, and he told me that if I gave up my most precious thing, he’d drop the debt. I agreed before I knew what he meant... They gave me a pill. Told me to put it in my wife’s drink and wait a week. I begged them to not do it, but they said they’d do it anyway, and I could make it easier on her. Said it wouldn’t kill her. I did it... in a couple days, well, I guess you can figure out the rest. My adoptive daughter. And then... they picked her up a week later. I don’t know what’s happened since then. I’ve looked, but I can’t find a trace. She was so scared... I was too... I thought I would kill myself, but that wouldn’t... I have to make things right see?”

LaCrone listened in silence. “You couldn’t.”

“I... I can’t even go to church any more, sir. Please I... I feel dirty. I just want to... do right by her. Get her back to normal and pay for my sins. I don’t care if she doesn’t forgive me.”

“She won’t. You sold your wife, you sick bastard.”

“Please I...At the very least... at the very least you have my testimony. And you promised I’d get off easy. You can’t take that back now!”

“Oh how quickly... the sinner turns to himself once again. Fine. You’ll get what you want. I only hope the judge sees fit to brand you so that no one will ever have to unknowingly be around you again.”

“Please... is there a cure?” Kimbor’s eyes were large as saucers, red and soaked. He looked at Peter in complete distress.

“...”

---

“Do you only listen to one band?” Katy looked up, looking bemused.

“Maybe I just have good taste.”

“Oh yes. The authors of such works as ?Blood Sugar Sex Magik’. Definitely classy.”

Peter looked hurt, but quickly changed the subject. “So why do you want me to call you Katy? Doesn’t Kathy make more sense?” This prompted the now-girl to look up at him ruefully. “I was regressed back to school girl age and I don’t even get to decide what I’m called? You’re more controlling than Carrie!”

“Ah! No, it’s not like that... it’s just... I was curious.”

“Oh, it’s nothing special. I always thought Carrie and I would adopt a little girl. I’d name her Katy...”

“Come now, don’t you think that would be a little confusing?”

“What?”

“Carrie, Kathy, and Katy Fowl? Just from the names, people would think you’re all sisters.”

?Katy’ smirked. “I should hope we aren’t, considering the things I did to Carrie.”

“Fights and beatings are not uncommon among sisters.”

“You are the most moronic, clueless detective I’ve ever met. Most men would be drooling if a woman ever talked about her sexual exploits with another woman!”

“Yeah, but I’ll be honest with you: it’s just less of a turn-on when a nine year old says it.”

Katy pouted jokingly. “Seriously though... can we pick up some new music?”

“Don’t like it? Stick in a new CD or turn it off.”

She stuck in a new CD. It wouldn’t matter... they were pulling up anyway.

“When we get in there, we need to be careful, okay?”

“Just because I look like a kid doesn’t make me foolish: you should know that better than anyone, Peter.”

“Shut up, let’s go.”

Katy sighed before muttering to herself, “You always have to get the last word, don’t you?” They rang the doorbell and waited. It was not long before the door opened, which rewarded their efforts.

---

“You sure are a service to your community, son. The man’s raving mad about just HOW he got his wife to disappear now, but with his admission, I think we’ll get the real story out in a few days. You’re a hero, boy.”

“Two things: first, I promised the officers I work with back home that I’d keep this case hush-hush if I got him to admit anything. Can you keep him in solitary? Also, this is the very important part: don’t listen to any of his mad ravings. They may seem innocuous now, but we have reason to believe that the ravings propagated by this man’s madness are enough to drive more men insane just from hearing them. Record what he says and send it to Mr. Jack North at this address in Charleston, West Virginia. I cannot caution you enough: this man’s ravings have proven to be extremely dangerous.”

“Um... Alright... But if we can’t question him, we can’t detain him more than a month.”

“He’ll volunteer to stay in jail, I’m certain. In the mean time, I did promise him you’d go easy on him in court. Hell, the man is giving himself to you on a platter. When the madness subsides, he’s yours. Try to go easy, even if he IS a sick bastard.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Hey kid, you seem like a pretty good negotiator... ever considered a job for the state?”

LaCrone just chuckled. “No offense officer, but I’m much older than I look.”

LaCrone just walked back to his car, and turned the key in the ignition.

“Took you long enough. We gonna follow the breadcrumbs now?”

“What?”

“You know. Go to York Valley.”

“Well... I guess that’s the only place to go.”

 

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