The Death of 1977 (Book 3)

Chapter 45

February

"And you say this is where the fire started?" Roy Brickman observed as he stood and studied the burned top of Linus' bureau.

The man scaled his right hand against the scarred wood grain while trying to figure out inside his own head just what sort of incident could have taken place inside his friend's apartment.

"Yep, that's it." Linus, still wearing his sling around his left arm, and clothed in a pair of blue jeans and a sweater came back into the living room with two unopened cans of Lowenbrau in hand.

Roy took the beer and popped open the cap. Linus responded in kind before leaning against his recliner and sipping ever so slowly. Roy took a couple of drags before strolling about the small apartment. "I know you quit smoking years ago, but do you think perhaps you may have left a lighter on the dresser by accident?"

Turning around with a haughty grin, Linus replied, "Roy, it was the fur, plain and simple."

Roy quit walking and faced Linus. "You say fur, but I just don't see fur igniting into flames."

"Yeah, isn't that funny?" Linus callously remarked before sitting himself down in his recliner.

Roy sat himself down on the couch adjacent from Linus and sipped some more on his beer. For a while both men just sat and brooded in complete silence. The fizz from the beer inside the individual cans was the only sounds that were being made. That, along with frequent sighing every so often.

Roy sat and studied Linus who refused to make eye contact with his Captain. He would just sit and caress the tip of his can while his blank eyes were steadily fixated on the dingy carpet. Roy was staring at Linus Bruin, but it was a completely different version of the man; a version that made no sense whatsoever. He could have used and thought of every cliché imaginable to describe the man, from 'empty shell' to 'soulless', but something was terribly amiss with Linus, and Roy felt completely helpless.

"Shirley wanted me to give you her best." Roy suddenly spoke up.

Grinning somewhat, Linus replied in a melancholy mood, "Bless her heart. I actually yelled at her the other day inside Cummins' house. I meant to apologize to her for that."

"Well, you know her; she tends to look the other way in such matters."

"Yeah...yeah she does." Linus drifted away.

Roy watched the man trail off once more before he sat back in his seat and cantankerously grunted, "You know, this is bullshit."

Linus abruptly awoke and asked, "How's that?"

Placing his can down onto the table next to him, Roy firmly stated, "I didn't come over here to sit and listen to the winter wind blow. You and I need to get this out in the open right now."

Linus sat his can down onto the floor before rubbing his broken arm and rolling his eyes. The man kept trying to evade Roy's eyes, but no matter what, Roy was just as persistent.

"Now, you may have dodged O'Dea, but I need to know what exactly happened so we can put an end to this nightmare once and for all." Roy nearly shot up from out of his seat. "I was thinking about calling in a few favors, just like the last time, but unless you give me something tangible to work with involving this incident then my efforts won't be worth a damn."

Linus sat and rubbed his hands together as though they were agitating him. "Do you know that it took hours for me to finally get that man's blood off of my hands and nails? He muttered.

Roy was caught off guard momentarily, as if he too were mesmerized with Linus' hands. "What exactly did O'Dea say to you?"

Sighing, Linus responded, "Do you recall last year when—

"Nope, nope," Roy cut right in. "We're not playing 'Time Machine' here. You're going to face a grand jury!" He raised his voice. "A grand jury that is only going to see you as the bad guy! I need to know what happened inside that house, and I need to know right now!"

"Roy—

"Forget about it, Linus!" Roy got up and began walking back and forth across the carpet. "Why can't you just come right out and say what went on?"

"Because I'm not going to my grave with everyone thinking that I've lost my mind." Linus simply blurted out."

at Linus. His reaction to the man's words would have suggested that the wind had just been sucked right out

the hell is that

there are certain occurrences in our lives that...that we hoped to God we'd never

about that Charles Manson, bigamist cult you and

man down? Then here it is. What I experienced back in Cummins' house, and then

"A prelude to what," Roy stood

wandered over to the window. "I knew full well that that entire day was leading to something. But deep down, I never wanted to admit it out loud. Even on my way over to apprehend Mercer that night I felt it. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to turn that car

the window while blindly telling his ill-fated story. Something wanted him to keep on telling his tale,

I kept on going. I kept on going up the

expected Linus to continue, after all, there was not a single pause or stutter in his speech. But when Linus just suddenly stopped, that was when Roy found it difficult to keep his own body

"I remember holding that woman's bloody body in arms. God, please be with her

skipping a part,

don't blame Fitz. Don't even blame Isaac Mercer. That poor, ungodly kid." Linus' voice softened. "I remember his father walking in and holding his dead child in his hands. That poor, wretched

"What made him so wretched, Linus? After all, he did

and quiet for almost an entire minute before he

all over again. "All I'm hearing from you is what you remember about a guy that nearly killed his fiancée, son and yourself. I'm hearing how sorry you felt for that guy. Hell, if I can't get any information out of you, then perhaps I should head down to the hospital

alone! If you

arms to the side right then and heaved a huge sigh before glancing all over the living room in a hopeless and defeated

"You know, I used to think

pointed at him. At that very

dammed." He muttered with a dry throat. "You don't wanna be

gave Roy the

his father. That next day he and I sat down and talked. He, much like yourself, just wasn't there." Roy explained.

home,

been exhausted. Without another word spoken the man walked over, grabbed his trench coat from off

"Make sure to arm yourselves down there at the station." Linus said aloud with his face still out the window. "You've got a

the television that was sitting in

contraption that was showing 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.' Linus remained at the window

Linus said, "Don't be alarmed. It's been coming off and on all by itself for the

unease at that stage. Everything had just come to a complete

"And it always starts and stops at that one

the television right when the killer snatched his victim just before slamming the steel, sliding door shut. Roy was

Captain Brickman snapped back to the present while seated comfortably in his wonky wooden chair that overlooked the overcast Downtown Cypress scenery. The last thing that sat and festered inside Roy's memory was Linus' backside that was staring right back at him as he walked out the man's door. He couldn't even recall Linus'

knocked on and carefully opened the office Captain's

desk and a blushing Donaldson. "Well, Donaldson, I figured you would be home by now." He cleared

"No, sir, not yet," Shirley humbly grinned. "I, uh, I just stopped by to see how you were

Growing a smile, Roy replied, "Well, as you

the office's

the woman placed a small box down onto his desk. Roy glanced up at her before

Taking the bullet out and strangely examining

back in 1881. And every person that ever owned it has never had to use it. So I'm giving it to you, sir. It's given me

From front to

Still smiling, Roy said, "I don't quite

"Just don't use it in one place."

getting up out

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