Chapter 7
Dominik has been to the Old Town Music Store many times, he’s practically a regular. They have an eclectic collection of rare acoustic instruments but also carry the standard brands of electric gear. It’s too early for there to be a crowd of regular customers but they’re open and Dominik figures that he and James can talk in private there. Especially if the owner, Adam, is there. Adam and Dominik’s parents were friends and Dominik got his first guitar at Old Town. He’s comfortable around Adam and knows that Adam won’t be curious about James or their conversation. When the cab arrives James pays and they go in. As they walk in the front door Dominik is disappointed to see someone unfamiliar at the counter. An imposing looking character you would never expect to see at music store that caters to Folk Music. Tattoos, spiked hair, and piercings in places you wouldn’t think could be pierced. Dominik walks up to the counter and asks for a booth.
“Hey. Can we get a booth? I want to try out some new effects and a practice amp.”
“Sure. Who’s this? Your dad?” The imposing man says in a sarcastic tone of voice.
“No, just a friend visiting from Boston.”
They walk over to a booth and Dominik grabs a guitar on the way.
“Oh I see, sugar daddy?” Says the imposing man with a flirting smile.
The guy’s attitude is really pissing Dominik off so he decides to say something.
“You got a problem with customers coming in to spend money? I know Adam, the owner. I buy stuff here all the time so don’t be a dick.”
“Fine. You’re a little sensitive, I think. Well here we are. How long do you think you’ll be?”
“I don’t know, maybe half an hour.”
“Fine. Just put shit back the way you found it.”
“Thanks.”
They close the door and lock it.
“Wow, what a dick. I’m sorry Mr. Hannagan.”
“That’s no problem. Are you sure these are really private.”
“Yeah totally, don’t worry. I’ll play while we talk, just to keep him thinking I’m checking stuff out.”
Dominik plugs in and starts playing. Testing out different effects on the foot pedal board.
James starts the conversation. “Well you mentioned the Sullivan case. There is a little bit of a story behind that. The article I mean, not the actual case. The case was a major story as I’m sure you gathered from reading the article. Well, you see there was this book associated with the case, the murders. It seemed to be related to black magic or the occult, or something. I don’t know anything about that. That’s why I went to see Professor Armistead at Harvard. I’m the one that brought him into the fold and he thought it would be great if he could get some research out of it. I took a class with him back when I was an undergrad so I thought of reaching out to him. Anyway, I’m off topic. So, the police had the book as evidence and the feds wanted it. And somewhere along the way the thing disappeared. Just like that, in thin air. The really bizarre thing is that the feds had been granted permission to confiscate the book by a court order. The paper work was all in order and the FBI comes to the local Salem police station to get the book. A local officer signs it out, Donnelly I think was his name. Yes, Donnelly, and he gets the signature of a federal agent for a receipt, Sanchez. Boy I can’t believe I remember this. The book is in an evidence bag on Sanchez and as they’re walking through the station Sanchez has a heart attack. He goes down to the floor, BAM!, in front of all these witnesses. Everyone rushes over and they start doing CPR on him. They call an ambulance and continue working on him until the ambulance arrives. Now mind you there are no civilians around, just cops and several federal agents. But in all the commotion the book disappears into thin air. Sanchez is clutching the evidence bag and it’s still sealed. Most people think one of the paramedics must have lifted it as a souvenir but the thing is… the bag was sealed. So the cops look crooked and the feds look stupid and everyone’s head in on the chopping block because this is a high profile case and the suspect, Sullivan, is still on the loose. Everyone’s afraid of losing their job or worse. So they make up this cockamamy story to cover their tracks. They didn’t do a great job covering their tracks but it’s one of those things where everyone knows that everyone’s hands are a little dirty and they all help cover it up. There was really no foul play in my opinion, just carelessness. They all just sort of put their tails between their legs, shrugged it off and said “I dunno what happened.” So over the years they’ve moved to get information related to the case brushed under the rug so it’s easier to pretend nothing happened. It’s no major criminal conspiracy. They’re all just embarrassed they did such a bad job. So that’s the story.”
“Wow. What about Sanchez?”
“He’s fine, he survived and recovered and he’s still with the bureau. Donnelly too, still with Salem police. But with this piece of evidence and the main suspect both missing it’s just too sensitive of an issue and they want to bury it.”
“But why couldn’t you say all that on the phone?”
“Look, you’re not naïve. Big brother is always watching and listening. And for a journalist like me who does pieces on government surveillance, civil rights and privacy, and being an outspoken advocate for the rights of citizens to protect their privacy, I’m a target. I know they’re listening and I don’t want to give them anything on me. If they found out I was talking about this little incident I probably wouldn’t get in trouble but they’d make things uncomfortable for me and the Gazette for a while. I don’t need that.”
“That is a wild story. Almost funny if it weren’t for the gruesome murders connected to it.”
“I agree. Many folks find it humorous.”
“What about Armistead? Is he still around? I was looking him up too, just out of curiosity after seeing his name mentioned in your article.”
“He’s at Harvard. He is close to 80 years old now I think, but still active. They have him in one of those Emeritus positions.”
“I couldn’t find his profile.”
“He’s kind of a recluse. He’s also a technophobe and since he doesn’t really teach anymore the department sees no reason to waste the resources with maintaining an online profile. He won’t maintain it.”
“Well thanks for the story, it was helpful. I guess we can go.”
“Hey you mentioned the microfilm at the library. Which library again?”
“At the University of Chicago. That’s where I’m a student now.”
“Great. Are you majoring in journalism?”
“No Anthropology. But I’m interested in journalism, I do a lot of writing. Not just technical or research, I like to write essays and opinion pieces. What I’m working on now sort of merges these two interests.”
“That’s great. Well I hope that it’s successful.”
Dominik shuts everything down and they leave the booth. He puts the guitar down and they walk out. The clerk stops them.
“Hey. You gonna buy anything?”
“Not today. Thanks.”
“Pussy.”
They leave. Dominik turns to James. “Sorry about that guy, I don’t know what his problem is. I wasn’t joking when I said I know the owner. I’ll have to talk to him.”
“Whatever, you can’t control other people. You can only control yourself. Do you want to catch a cab back together or not?”
“No thanks. I think I’m going to spend some time here. But thanks again, this was a great help.”
“No problem. When you get to Harvard be sure to look me up. Perhaps you’ll take the online course next semester.”
“Definitely.”
They go their separate ways. Dominik decides to go further north to Lincoln Park and finds his way to near Lincoln Park Zoo. Now that he’s near the zoo, he starts to fixate on the dream. It’s another unseasonably warm day and people are out in shorts and tee shirts. Dominik, as usual, is dressed in black, but no jacket. He strolls through the zoo, watching the people go in and out of the different houses. He stops to look at the bears in the outdoor area. There are people crowding around the railing, taking a few minutes each to look at them and take pictures. Dominik walks up to an open space and watches silently. After several seconds the bears seem agitated, and start walking in circles, growling intensely. Everyone starts pointing and videoing them on their phones. Suddenly one of the bears attacks another and they fight ferociously. Blood sprays everywhere. Some of the people cheer them on, others are in shock and those with little kids shield them from the carnage. Dominik runs to the nearest zookeeper and frantically tells them what’s happening. They run back and one of the bears is dead. The keeper calls for help and in a few seconds a keeper comes with a tranquilizer gun and aims, but by this time the bears are calm. They decide not to shoot the bear and instead move to lure them back into the indoor enclosure so they can clean the mess. One of the keepers speaks to the crowd “Please move back and give us room to work. We are very sorry that this happened. Please move on to the other houses.” Dominik walks away heading over to the big cat house. This is why he came, because of his dream. As he walks up the steps towards the doors a small group of people come out in a hurry. A man passes Dominik bumping him on the shoulder as he passes.
The man turns to Dominik “Hey, fuck you! You hit me.”
Dominik feels defensive but doesn’t want to fight, “Sorry. It was an accident.”
“No it wasn’t. You did it on purpose. You wanna fight. I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
Now Dominik is scarred. This guy is really psycho and very large “No. I’m sorry.”
The group walks away and Dominik can hear them talking in the distance. “I don’t know what came over me. I just lost it…”
Dominik calms down and goes in. He walks through the big cat house looking for the Bengal Tiger. As he walks past each cage the cats within get up and start circling, growling. People start looking at Dominik. He feels very exposed but doesn’t understand what is happening. What about his presence is causing this. Now he feels guilty about the bear attack, could that have been his doing? He walks right through to the other door and leaves. Freaked out by this he decides to leave the zoo and walk around the neighborhood. He wanders over to Clarke Street and walks north. He’s trying to process all this. Find a reason for it, a scientific reason. He talks to himself as he walks.
“Could I be giving off a scent that’s making these animals act out? That makes no sense. Could it be the bite? And that guy at the music store. I get along with everyone. Why was he so hostile? Maybe I am being sensitive, but the bear and the cats. That’s too strange.”
Dominik looks around and realizes he’s walked quite far north, and is quite far from his place so he decides to take the bus back. He stands at the bus stop waiting, watching people as they walk by. They look at him, as if they know something he doesn’t. Almost like they were all witnesses to the bear attack or the incident in the music store. Dominik feels paranoid then suddenly snaps back to objective reality. “This is stupid”, he says to himself. Eventually the southbound Clark Street bus comes, the doors open and Dominik gets on. As he fishes around in his pocket for money the bus driver get visibly angry.
“Hey! What’s your problem?! Have the change ready! Look at all these people, they got somewhere to go, you know!”
Dominik looks shocked. He has a lump in his throat. “I, I, I’m sorry.”
“Really, you’re sorry? Get out! Get off my bus you son of a bitch!”
The doors open and Dominik runs off. He’s shaking, trembling. “What just happened?” he thinks to himself. He is truly scared. It is as if we walked into an alternate reality. He decides to just walk home. It’s going to be a long walk from Lincoln Park to North and Ashland but he doesn’t feel like he has a choice and the walk will help him calm down. It’s early and he’ll have plenty of time to get work done.
Dominik arrives at the loft, walks straight to the table and takes an oxy. It’s 12:27 pm. He sits down, thinking about everything that happened. He’s excited at the memory of his discussion with Hannagan. Then he remembers Armistead and that he’s missing a tooth. “Ah! That’s why everyone was staring”, Dominik says out loud to himself. He decides to call the dentist, the physical therapist and the orthopedist and make appointments. This makes him feel better, now he has things to do for the next several days, something to mark the time and keep him focused. After all that he decides to try and find Armistead. He opens his laptop and looks up the Harvard anthropology department site. Rather than look him up he finds the department phone number and calls.
“Hello, Anthropology.”
“Hi, I’m looking for Professor Armistead.”
“Hm. Does he know you?”
“We have a mutual friend. Mr. Hannagan from the journalism department.” Dominik crosses his fingers.
“Ok, let me ring his office and see if he’s in. He won’t take direct calls. I’ll put you on hold.”
Yes! Almost success. Dominik waits.
“Hello, yes, Dr. Armistead said you should make an appointment to see him.”
“Ah, that’s a little difficult as I’m in Chicago. Are you sure he won’t talk to me?”
“Wait again, let me ask.”
Dominik waits on hold for a few seconds. Then a new voice come one the phone. A man with a British accent. The sound of his voice is old but he’s sharp witted and impatient.
“Yes hello, who exactly is this?”
“Hi, sir, professor. I’m Dominik Franzese, I…”
“I don’t know anyone by that name. You said you knew me.”
“No, no I didn’t. I said we had a mutual friend. Hannagan.”
“Oh, yes. So you did. Hm. How exactly do you know James Hannagan?”
“Ah, I was planning to take his online journalism course nest semester and…”
“Online courses are…, as you Americans say, bullshit. Don’t you think? What kind of education is that? Hm? Well?”
“I don’t know. That’s not why I called actually.”
“Well you don’t know. My goodness! How can you converse with people? I’m so glad I don’t have to waste my time with your generation…”
Dominik interrupts. “I just met Hannagan this morning in Chicago and…”
“Oh! So you must be the young man who was asking about the Sullivan article. Hm.”
“How did you know?”
“Are you mentally retarded? Did you not listen to yourself when you said we had a mutual friend? I know Mr. Hannagan, James, quite well. He was quite excited after your call and informed me of your impending meeting. I don’t have time for this. I’m 83 and will probably die soon. I certainly don’t want my final thoughts to be of this conversation.”
“Right, of course. Sorry. I wanted to discuss the book associated with the Sullivan case with you. I’m an Archeology student and doing research on…”
“Yes, yes, on the occult, fine. There isn’t much to discuss since I never had a chance to research the book…”
“Yes, but you’re considered a world expert on its contents and I’m very interested to learn more.”
“That’s amusing. How does one become an expert in something one has never seen? I’m not a string theorist you know.”
“Well, but you’ve written quite a bit about this text.”
“Those writings were speculative, mostly based on folk tales. I’m not sure that you could benefit from a discussion based on these articles.”
Dominik really wants to get Armistead to talk more or agree to see him so he goes for broke. “Dr. Armistead. What if I could get access to a copy of the book? Would you like to meet and analyze it?”
Armistead is silent for a few moments. “How would you get access to a copy of this text? Do I want to know?”
“I have a friend…” Oh boy now Jack is my friend. “A friend who deals in obscure antique books. He called me a couple weeks ago describing a rare book that sort of matched the description of the one in the Sullivan case and it’s for sale. I didn’t want it at first but after talking to Hannagan I thought this might be it. This may be the missing book or another copy. There were twelve original copies. I read that in the Gazette article you…”
“Fine, I know what I said, I don’t have dementia. I remember everything I say. If you know as much as you claim then you know that if this … book you say your friend has is what you think it is then the FBI will want to get involved. This could be more trouble than it’s worth. Are you sure you want this … thing?”
“Well, I don’t know. Maybe, if you’re interested in seeing it I can get it.”
“If I’m interested in seeing it I can get the copy myself. There can’t be that many book dealers in Chicago that would deal in such things. I’ve been to Chicago many times over many years. Is it that pervert Jack Davenport?”
Dominik freezes. What do you say to that? “Ah, I don’t, I mean no, no it’s not Jack. I know Jack. No this is a dealer out in the suburbs.”
“Hm, must be Evanston. A lot of weirdos over at Northwestern.”
“Right.”
Silence. “Right? What is that supposed to mean? Your generation is by far the worst at communicating. Look I’ll give James a call and see if he’s interested in scheduling a meeting. You know, since you and he are such good friends. You’ll have to come here as I am too old, too… fragile to travel. But if there’s interest we can pay to bring you out here and even pay for the cost of the book.”
“Oh! That’s great. I mean, very generous to offer… ”
“We’re not putting you up at the Ritz so don’t get excited. It’s a standard package deal for a visitor. We have done this for others you know.”
“Right. Well uh, can I give you my number so you can contact me?”
“Caller ID, they’ve had it for years you know. How does the human race survive?” The line disconnects. Armistead hung up.
Dominik is too elated by the prospect of a meeting with Armistead to dwell on how bizarre that conversation was. It’s like meeting a rock star. Armistead is a big deal in his field. He is worried about the possibility of Armistead calling Jack to verify he doesn’t have the book. But right now he is so charged with excitement all he can think about is opening the book.
He sits and methodically opens the box, removes the stuffing and very, very gently removes the book from the box and sets it on the table on front of him. He opens the cover and sees that first symbol again, the one he copied. He catches the edge of the page with the skin of his thumb and turns the page.