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LIGHT OF THE ATMA – THE SPARK WITHIN
WHERE IS PETER?
llison was shown from the interrogation room with algidness by the wrestler-type woman guard who had watched over her. She was brought to a noisy and very overcrowded reception lobby where her father was indeed anxiously awaiting her arrival along with many others who seemed to be as worried for theirs, as he was for his.
When her father saw her enter the lobby, he quickly stood up from the hard, wooden bench on which he was sitting and caringly held his arms out to her as she approached him.
As she came into his arms, he held her to console her. The tears she was restraining gushed forth. “They put me in a paddy wagon!” she sobbed as he gently coddled her out of the station.
On their way home, she frantically tried to explain to her father the entrapment in which both she and Peter had found themselves, and the odd circumstances that caused Peter to flee for safety.
As they arrived home, Tom and Martha, Peter’s grandparents, along with Sandy, Allison’s mother, rushed from the house to help Allison from the carriage. The two women brought her into her home while the two men talked out front. Tom looked at Sam with concern.
He reflected a very worried look on his face, and with fright filling his voice, asked Sam,”Where is Peter?”
“The last I heard,” Sam answered, “the police were looking for him, but Allison tells me she believes he will come straight here.”
What could these two prominent Boston surgeons do at this unfortunate moment? Their skills, no matter how great, were not adequate enough to help them through this crisis. The solution to the problem with which they were now faced, was beyond that of the scalpel or any medicines they could prescribe. There they stood, family men apart from their professions each looking at the other with stunned expressions on their faces.
rogg and his loathsome associates, including Beechwater and a few other miscellaneous riffraff that Crogg could not shake because they too were in on the scheme from the very beginning, started to fight amongst themselves like a pack of wild dogs.
Beyond any doubt, Crogg could not stand the sight of any of them; but because they were strands in the weave of his web, he had no choice but to put up with them.
To quell the squabble, he assigned each of them a section of the mansion. He then conterminously drew boundary lines which put the ballroom, main dining room and library on common ground. He, of course, kept the choice sections of the mansion for himself, with the intention of gaining back all parts of the mansion as his own as soon as he could manage it. ‘The chips a man holds,’ he thought, ‘he soon loses when he enters the game with me.’
While Crogg was basking in the glory of his satisfaction, Allison, her mother and father and Peter’s grandparents were snarled up with wrenching pain. Worry itself beat like a separate heart, sending the flow of anxiety through their nerves.
Both Tom and Sam pelted the police station with question after question concerning Peter’s whereabouts. Their minds swirled in the whirlpool of disorientation as the politics of police business beat around and around the bush.
As dusk encroached, fear descended over them like the black of the oncoming night. With desperation reaching out from their hearts, they found themselves having to struggle against the uncaring, ‘you’re bothering us too much,’ argument the police department was giving them.
‘Click!’ went the phone on the other end as Sam held the receiver to his ear. “That vicious, foul-mouthed man!” Sam commented with anger. “You might think,” he remarked as he slammed down the receiver, “that policeman would have a little more care and consideration.”
Tom, who was doing everything he could to maintain emotional control, stood up from the chair and asked Sam, “Do you mind if I use your telephone?”
“Of course you can,” Sam acknowledged with a ‘why do you even ask under these conditions?’ look.
Tom picked up the receiver and had himself connected to an old friend, Sir Charles Quarterly, and a close associate of the governor. He explained to Sir Charles, that he not only lost his daughter and son-in-law in a fateful accident at sea, but now his grandson had disappeared while being chased by the Boston police. And, his best friend’s daughter, who was his grandson’s governess, was arrested on false charges but was at last released.
He explained his suspicions concerning Crogg and asked Sir Charles if he could possibly help, since no help was coming from the police departments. Sir Charles conveyed to Tom his understanding and promised him he would get on the problem right away.
Tom thanked his friend, and hung up the phone. His eyes swirled with worry while hope flickered in his heart as though it was struggling to stay lit through the gusts of despair blowing at hurricane force within him. Sam gave Tom a look of encouragement. “Peter’s a bright and able boy. I’m sure he’s all right.”
As the hours of the night moved on, Tom and Sam could not sleep. The women tried to remain awake but with all the stress, could not escape the pull of sleep. Though they guarded the flame of esperance, of faith and hopefulness within their hearts, they were unaware that the days to come for them would be filled with worry and endless anxiety; for finding Peter’s whereabouts would not be easy, in any respect.
t was late afternoon, two days after Peter had been abducted in Boston, when Mulligan and Malone were driving up the road to the Smith’s mansion with Peter handcuffed to Malone.
Crogg was out on the side patio having his usual late breakfast. Most of the former servants by that time had been dismissed and replaced by other servants unfamiliar to Peter.
As Mulligan, and Malone, along with Peter, walked into the mansion, Crogg was halfway through his meal. A smile came over Crogg’s face when he heard Peter yell in the hallway as Malone pushed him through the doorway. A few seconds later, Crogg heard one of the men yipe. Peter had hauled off, and kicked him in the shin, which revealed Malone’s extent of cuss words. When the two detectives finally escorted Peter to the patio, Crogg and Peter had a staring match.
“So . . .” Crogg noted as he put a piece of steak in his mouth then proceeded to speak with his mouth full, “you’re angry!” A signal from his eyes prompted Mulligan to place his large, husky hands on Peter’s shoulders. With a powerful thrust, he forced him down into the chair which Malone had slid under him. Peter landed with a ‘thud’ and wrestled to get back up but Malone and Mulligan held him down.
“Look Lad . . .” Crogg started to explain.
“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY!” Peter shouted with fury.
Crogg put his knife and fork down, lifted a napkin and wiped his mouth, then ordered, “You’ll – listen – or – else!”
Peter snapped back, “Since when have you taken to kidnapping to get your way?!”
“Kidnapping?” Crogg responded with pretended surprise. “You’re sure one for jumping to conclusions.”
“Oh . . .?” Peter challenged. “Just what am I doing here being held down by your goons? I was only a few miles away from my grandparents’ house when your hired thugs here abducted me!”
“Let me fill you in on how things stack up,” Crogg began, “I now control the entire flow of money from your father’s estate – every last cent of it.” Using a deceptively calm tone he added, ” Your father – just before he left last year, secretly had a new will drawn up. Well, what can I say of a man who made it a practice to harbor such hate toward his family relations? As you know, your father was a man who enjoyed putting moochers in their place, and he spared no words when it came to your grandfather, whom he disrespected with every fiber of his heart.”
Peter’s eyes were cutting through Crogg with disbelief and fury. “Oh and I suppose you were his bosom friend who he entrusted his all?!”
Crogg continued,”For your information, your grandfather was personally told by your father, that he was going to be cut from his will.” Crogg sat back, and gave a shifty, gledge. “Doesn’t this bring up a tiny question as to why your governess would want to whisk you from here, to there – especially when she was told by me, that his grandfather had no further authority over you, as he was disinherited? So you see Lad, they don’t want you, they just need you.” Crogg sat back, self smug, waiting for a response.
“YOU’RE A LIAR!” Peter charged. “Both my mother and father told me that if they were ever no longer around to take care of me, I should live with them.”
“Well,” Crogg replied, “men change their minds when the needs call for it; and what can I say of your poor mother? She was a daughter devoted to her parents, and refused to see the faults that were in them.”
“I still don’t believe you!” Peter repeated. “As if you’re so perfect and noble.”
“I am surprised at your attitude,” Crogg remarked in a tone to invoke humiliation in him. “A lad as fiscally literate as you, should know that if they wangle back trusteeship of your inheritance, you can say bye-bye to all of your money. Once they get their greedy little hands on it, you won’t see a cent of it.”
“I still don’t believe you!” Peter resounded.
“Course you don’t. It’s only natural that you’d be shocked when someone you trust turns on you. Anyway, I’m not a man who doesn’t have proof to back up what I’m saying. If you would like to see the documents . . .”
Peter slumped down in the chair. Crogg waved Mulligan and Mallone away, so they lifted their anchor-like hands off of his shoulders. Crogg was anxious to cause more psychological damage, so with a slighting tone he denounced, “Do you know why your pretty little governess rushed you off to Boston in spite of the warnings I gave her? Because you’re ‘their’ ticket to the gold that lies at the end of your father’s will.
When I dismissed her, I made it perfectly clear that she was to leave you behind in my custody. I was even generous.I paid her handsomely above the salary she was promised, but she insisted it wasn’t nearly enough for all she had to endure while tending to you. Something about . . .’the extra difficulties she had to put up with’, as she so aptly described it.
Seeing this uncalled-for behavior, I severely chided her for her selfishness but she audaciously laughed in my face. Well – at that point, I ordered her to leave the mansion.
I then left to tend to some pressing business, and by the time I returned, I found she had left, taking you with her. And being that I am the duly appointed executor, and temporary guardian of you, I simply did what my duty called me to do, and sent detectives, Mulligan and Mallone to save you.”
Seeing that his tactics were driving Peter deep into despair, a state of mind in which he wanted Peter to be, Crogg sat back and took in the effect of his cruel methods.
“You’ll stay here with me until arrangements can be made for you to go to England where you will board in a very prestigious school – the very one your father went to as a matter of fact. You should do very well there.”
Peter glared at him. “My father hated it there! And I’m not going!”
“Unfortunately, you don’t have a choice,” Crogg stated. “Your father lived a very chancy life.” Peter stared at him with an angry squint, but his eyes revealed his wonder. Crogg, the shrewd man that he was, read Peter’s look and answered it by saying, “He was a high-stakes gambler.”
Peter tried to hide the disbelief he felt flashing in his eyes.
“That’s right Son,” Crogg affirmed as he resumed eating his meal. “He was in debt up to his eyeballs. Why, I’m having to take money out of my own pocket to cover all of his bad accounts so I can keep the company in the black.
In the meantime – I’m covering all expenses, including tuition for you to go to school, because your father’s will is going to be tied up in legalities. And if I can’t get this company back on its feet, well then, it’s my loss, and your gain.” He put a piece of meat in his mouth and spoke. “Your father put up as collateral all the stock he owned as well as every deed he had.
This mansion here, the one in Boston, and Rhode Island, the estates in New York, and Maine and everything else he put in your mother’s name as a safeguard against his debts, but they all fell victim to his temptation to gamble anyway.
He had all the property re-deeded in his name, and made it part of the pot. Do you know how hard I’m working to save this fancy little place? I’m already in a fight trying to keep the assorted creditors from getting their hands on the deeds.”
“Do you always talk with your mouth full?!” Peter asked, irritated with Crogg’s bad habit.
Crogg gave him a deadly stare that radiated a depth of vileness that could only be understood through the sense of experience. “You’ll do as I say!” He placed his fork and knife down. Crogg’s unspoken message was ‘My orders are final, and I want no arguments!’ The artificial expression of caring fell from his face, and was replaced by an ‘I mean it’ look.
Peter stared at him not knowing what to say. He sprang off of the chair, and ran into the mansion. Lefty was standing in the background watching on. Crogg, catching his eye, instructed him, “Be sure he doesn’t go anywhere I don’t approve of,” and he took from his vest pocket a key for Lefty to see. He then tossed it through the air for him to catch. Upon catching it, Lefty followed Peter inside.
Crogg pushed his plate of food away, and pulled the napkin from his collar. As he stood up, he asked Mulligan and Malone to follow him to the study.
The study was lit with an incandescent yellow glow from a few stained glass windows Michael had received as a gift from a viscount in Vienna. The smell of stale tobacco lingered in the air. Crogg sauntered over to the desk and pulled from the top drawer two envelopes which he slapped in his hand as he spoke to the two men. “I don’t have to tell you boys just how pleased I am for a job well done.You’ll find a little something extra in there.” They both smiled as he handed each of them an envelope. He turned around to pick out a cigar from the box on the desk.
“I like men who know how to get a job done.” He looked back at them. “I just might have some other little jobs for you in the future,” and he broad-sided them with one of his infectious, greedy smiles.
After a cigar-smokers ritual of biting, and sniffing he added, “And – if you do as good then, as you did with this one, you might find you can both retire early.” Both Mulligan’s and Malone’s smiles increased substantially. Crogg slapped them both on their backs as he escorted them out. As they left, he stood there feeling as though he was the proud new owner of two more fish on his hook of bribery.
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