44: The Walls Between Us – Pt. 2

“Derrick?” Victoria called as she rounded the corner to his living room. He was sitting in his favorite chair reading and looked up at her with a smile as she entered.

“Hello, Beautiful!”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you had company. I’ll um; I’ll come back a little later when you’re alone.”

“Victoria?” She stopped and turned to face him as he slid from his seat and started towards her. “What are you talking about? I don’t have any company.” Glancing over his shoulder, the man she saw sitting on the couch beside him was gone and she gasped.

“He was just…right there,” she replied and took a step forward. Suddenly the gentleman dressed in a three piece suit jumped out at her from the side of the room and she screamed. “Very funny, Derrick!” He looked at her confused, watching her startle herself and back up towards the door again.

“Victoria, I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Look if you and your little vampire friend want to play games that’s fine but find a new toy,” she growled and turned to head out.

“You can see me?” His thick Tennessee accent frightened her and Victoria jumped again as the man addressed her, finding herself falling into Derrick’s chest as he moved closer to catch her. “Please I need your help.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“Do you see someone there?” Derrick asked, again looking in the direction she faced but only seeing an empty space. “What does he look like?”

“H-he’s dressed like someone from the 1940s, in a um, three piece Zoot suit; dark brown with tan and red pinstripes. Two-tone saddle shoes, bone and tan, and a Crushed Wool Felt Fedora like Frank Sinatra wore.” She turned to look at Derrick as the man moved a foot closer. “There’s a giant bullet wound on his forehead and he’s bleeding.”

“Can you help me?” he asked again, stepping to Victoria’s side to look her in the face.

“He keeps asking me to help him. Derrick, what the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know but I think it could be one of the former residents here. I told you the banker and his wife was just ONE of the many who have died between these walls.”

“So he’s a ghost? Why the hell do I see him? I’m not a psychic!”

“HELP ME!” the man shouted and a glass sitting on Derrick’s bookshelf shattered into a million tiny pieces all one-by-one falling to the floor with a clink.

“Great. Looks like he’s in a bad mood,” Derrick commented as he looked over the aftermath. “Talk to him, Victoria. See what he wants and tell him these crystals are antiques! One of a kind stuff I can’t get again.” He mumbled something else about his old home as he walked to the kitchen to retrieve a dustpan and broom.

Victoria gazed at the man once more and took a deep breath to resolve the chills rolling over her skin. “Uh hi, uh, what’s…what’s your name?”

“Peter Amato,” he replied, tipping his hat. “I heard what you said to your friend. I apologize for my earlier temper and my grotesque appearance but seeing as I’m a ghost and all…there’s not much I can do about that.” 

“It’s ok. I’ve seen a few dead bodies in my time. Although not a single one of them got up and started walking again so…”

“I see. Well do you think you can help me? I’d been trying to strike up a conversation all morning long with your friend but I suppose he doesn’t have the sight like you.”

“I guess,” Victoria smiled nervously. “And I don’t know if I’ll be of much help either, Peter, but I’m willing to give it a shot. What happened to you?”

He looked around the living room with confusion as Derrick returned to clean up the glass and stopped shortly in front of the fireplace. “This isn’t how I left things.”

“Well I’m not sure when you resided here but I think this manor’s had a few dozen residents since…um…when did you die?”

“You mean when was I murdered?” He asked turning to look at Victoria and gesturing towards the bullet wound in his left temple. “October 22, 1943. I was sitting there, listening to Sunday, Monday or Always on my radio; man Bing Crosby had such a voice,” she looked at the couch where she’d found him sitting earlier upon entering Derrick’s home. “My long time friend and business partner waltzed in and without a word struck me a few times and then stuck his .38 Special Smith & Wesson revolver to my head and pulled the trigger.”

“Do you know why?”

“Darling, if I knew why, he’d be the one standing here talking to you, not me,” he smiled, a bright look overcoming his expression as he gazed at her and sighed before moving towards the couch again.

“What’s he saying?” Derrick asked as he joined her near the coffee table.

“He said his best friend killed him right there on the couch in the fall of 1943. Derrick, PLEASE tell me you’ve redecorated since then.” She shuddered at the thought of sitting in the man’s blood and Derrick ignored the complaint, focusing more on the man and why he had returned.

“Why did his friend kill him?” she shrugged and waited for Peter to continue his story as Derrick exited the room again heading down the hall towards his office. He returned shortly with a laptop he powered on and placed on the coffee table. “What’s his name?”

“Peter Amato.” Victoria moved beside Derrick as he did a search on the name and watched as a few dozen newspaper articles popped up concerning the man’s death in what was now Derrick’s murder house. “It says here that he and some guy named Steven ‘Clipper’ Douglas were involved in a series of bank robberies along interstate 75 between the years of 1935 up to Amato’s death in 1943.”

“‘The Backdoor Bandits’, that’s what they called us,” he again smiled with pride as he started to remember. “We were something else! Perfected our method down to an art; in and out in less than three minutes! Interesting, so you just input words into that little gadget and pictures move?”

“The last job they pulled was an armored car making a delivery to a bank in Tennessee. A few thousand dollars in gold bars was taken as well as a stack of war bonds. None were ever recovered,” Derrick read aloud, glancing up at Victoria as he reached the end of the article. “Can you imagine what this would be worth today?”

“And that’s why he killed me.” Peter stood and paced around the living room as he thought over the events of their last heist. “I was the one in charge of getting us a buyer for that gold. I’d taken it and stashed it away to keep Clipper from eagerly spending it and getting us nabbed.”

“So he killed you in order to find it and have it all to himself.”

“Can you believe that? Nine years of partnership all came down to this.” He laughed and crossed his arms into his chest; a self-satisfied grin on his face. “Jokes on him though. I hid our take so well I doubt it’s ever been found.”

“Ok so I’m confused. Ghosts who um…haunt places or whatever are supposedly lost right? They are stuck from crossing over because of unfinished business. If your partner never found the gold and I’m assuming has since died?” she looked at Derrick who was already a few steps ahead of her and nodded as Steven Douglas’ death certificate came back in another search. “Then what do you need help with? I mean why can I see you?”

“My Agnes, my sweet, sweet Agnes. She was the reason why I’d planned to retire. I was hoping that last take would have been enough to help us live comfortably. The last time I saw her she was four months pregnant with our child. I’d made plans to marry her, bought a ring and everything,” he remarked, patting his pocket in deep thought. “I have to know what became of her and my baby.”

“So you came back to…”

“That money is rightfully hers and my child’s!”

“No, that money is property of the United States Treasury. You stole it.”

“Please, I only did it to help my family. I have to know she’s at least taken care of. You have to get that money to her.” Victoria sighed and shook her head no as she listened to Peter’s pleas.

“I’m a cop. I can’t…”

“Please!”

“You don’t even know if she’s still alive!”

“Of course I do, I can feel her. I know she’s there. She’s been waiting for me for so long. Please, help my family.”

“What’s he saying?” Derrick asked watching the detective in what appeared to be a one sided conversation. Victoria took a seat near him again and pulled his computer towards her.

“What’s Agnes’ last name?”

“Shaw.”

Doing a quick search the name Agnes Shaw returned in a search and she read the vital statistics to Peter who hovered over her shoulder. “Born May 14, 1925 in Avondale?”

“That’s her! Where is she now? Does it say anything about my child?”

“No, I’m sorry. There are no listed addresses for her either.”

“Then there is no hope.” Peter sighed dismally and plopped beside her on the sofa. Victoria immediately stood, getting a little space between her and the bloody man and paced briefly in front of Derrick.

“Can you maybe use your resources at the station, Victoria?” Derrick suggested, watching her eyes as she continued glancing occasionally towards an empty spot beside him. “Is he right here?” She nodded and Derrick stood quickly, moving closer to where Victoria stood. “Look I don’t really know what is going on or what he wants from you,” he whispered, “But if there is something you can do to get him out of my house then I would really appreciate that.”

“I thought this place was ‘amazing and unique’,” she mocked his words noticing the look of unease on his face. “What ever happened to the enthusiasm you had because of all of the horrific things that took place in your house?”

“That was before my ‘guests’ started breaking my stuff. I’d not care for repeats so please, get him out of here any way you can.”

“What’s so important about your crystals?” He turned over a shard of glass he’d held in his hand after cleaning up the mess earlier and Victoria read the engraved initials on the piece. “These are from your royal family? That’s over four hundred years old.”

“And you can see why I’d like to preserve the few that I have left.”

Victoria sighed and threw her hands up in frustration. “Fine! I’ll call work and have them run the name for me. But wherever this leads, you’re coming with. He is after all YOUR guest. Had I not come over today I wouldn’t have been thrust into the center of some 70-year old ghost mystery.”

Dialing the switchboard for the Avondale Police Department Victoria waited for the operator to return with the information and pushed the device into her back pocket again. “Alright, Agnes is currently living at the Manchester Assisted Living Home. It’s not far from here but according to my information, it’s scheduled to be shutdown, its residents evicted by the end of the month.”

“That’s it!” Peter shouted and jumped from his seat. “That’s why my Agnes called me! She needs the money in order to stay in her home. Please Victoria, you can see now why it is important my stash gets to her.”

Glancing between both Peter’s and Derrick’s pleading eyes Victoria grunted in aggravation. “God this so goes against everything I’ve sworn an oath to.” She growled at herself before finally coming to terms with what needed to be done. “Where did you hide your stuff?”

“Behind the fireplace.”

Of course, she thought, that was why he kept hovering around that spot and smiling to himself. “Ok, Derrick, looks like you’re in for a bit of a remodel.” She motioned towards the wall and watched the irritation on his face that made her feel slightly less annoyed at her day being hijacked. “Get to work.”

Derrick pulled out the bricks that held the wall together, being as careful as possible not to damage the integrity of the foundation as he worked quickly to reach the back of the furnace. Once enough of the area was ripped away, he leaned into the tiling until his hand felt over a twill bag and he liberated it from the tight space, dropping it to the floor in front of Victoria.

She leaned down to examine the contents of the sack as Derrick busied himself with redoing the walls behind her. Victoria gasped upon opening the pack as tons of gold coins fell onto the floor at her feet and even more filled the large duffel. Added in with the bullion were a few war bonds and large stacks of cash that had long since passed their expiration dates.

“When you deliver it, please tell her that her petite amour will be waiting by the apple tree for that dance she owes me.” Victoria looked up at Derrick and he knelt beside her, closed the bag up and helped her to her feet.

“Let’s get this done.”

“I can’t give her this. Just touching it makes me feel criminal,” Victoria stated as she and Derrick sat outside of the Manchester retirement home.

“Then you can wait in the car while I run it inside.” Derrick slipped from the passenger seat and snatched the pack from the back. Hurriedly he rushed towards the double doors leading into the facility and Victoria watched as he disappeared inside.

Nervously she drummed her fingers along her thigh waiting to hear sirens or some form of shouting indicating the discovery of what was inside the bag. When the doors opened again, she breathed a sigh of relief as Derrick rushed back towards her with a smile on his face. Hopping into the jeep he motioned for her to start up and drive off. “So?”

“So, Peter’s son James was inside with his mother. I explained that I came across the bag from an old letter of Peter’s I’d found that asked the bag be delivered to Agnes along with his message to her.”

“And they just accepted that?”

“The bag contained a few million dollars in gold, Victoria. If a stranger off the street hands you a wad of money, you don’t question it, you go on a spending spree.”

“And that’s where I’m concerned.”

“The money can’t be traced back to you; your hands are clean as your conscience should be. You gave that woman the chance to find a place to live instead of on the streets. It’s not like you robbed anybody.”

“Yeah well…that doesn’t make it any better.” She responded and pulled away from the curb heading back to Derrick’s. He escorted her into the living room and Victoria peeked around the corners before stepping completely inside. Derrick smirked at her caution and moved towards the bar to offer her a drink.

Gulping down the contents of her glass she handed it back to him with a thanks and stood beside the arm chair, too afraid of sitting where Peter had earlier. “Well that was fun. Nothing like a good ghost adventure to get the blood pumping.”

“Ok.” Derrick smiled as Victoria tried to settle her nerves. “So what did you come over here for anyway?”

“Um…I got a lead about this guy, the piggybacking vampire. I think he’s holed up in this place in Mercy Park; some abandoned building that’s seen a lot of activity around sundown.”

“A vampire nest?”

“All signs point to yes. I think the building’s crawling with them.”

“And what? You’re making plans to go in there and find this one vampire out of a crowd of dozens? Victoria, stake me for pointing out the obvious about how dangerous that is, but do you really think you’ll be able to figure out which one is your guy?”

“That’s where you come in. I know you have an amazing sense of smell, Derrick. You’ve been to each crime scene you have to know what he smells like. You can pick him out of a crowd.”

“Jesus, Victoria. Even if that were possible do you expect me to just take you inside a building full of blood crazed demons just so you can make an arrest? It’s beyond crazy. No, I won’t do it.”

“Then I’ll go alone.” Victoria turned and started to leave.

“Like hell you will!” Derrick grabbed her arm, pulling her back hard against his chest and keeping her from moving. “You’ll stay as far away from that place as fucking possible, Victoria!”

“I’m a cop, Derrick! My job is to protect this city from criminals. And like it or not this guy is a murderer; supernatural or otherwise he has to be stopped from preying on innocent people! And if you’re not willing to help me then I’ll have to do this by myself. But make no mistake about it I’m going one way or the other!”

“Dammit! You are just determined to get yourself killed over this!” Derrick growled staring at the unwavering resolve locked within Victoria’s eyes. “Fine! I’ll go. But you follow my lead the whole way. I mean it, Victoria. You move when I say move and not a second before!”

“Thank you,” she whispered softly, looking away from him a moment. Derrick stepped closer, pulling Victoria into his arms and waiting until her eyes met his again.

“You need to be ready for what’s in there, Victoria. That means complete focus and the possibility of a fire fight. These creatures are faster, stronger and smarter. They will try and get in your head and manipulate your thoughts; we don’t fight fair.”

“I know, Derrick. I’ll be ready.”

“Was there something else?” he asked, sliding his fingers over her shoulder. Victoria smiled uneasily at him and calmly took his hand, threading her fingers between his as she lowered him into his favorite chair. She sat in his lap, quietly deciding how to ask the question weighing on her mind and felt him delicately rub her back. “Are you ok, Victoria?” he asked, noticing tears forming in her eyes.

“Yeah,” she nodded and took a deep breath. “Derrick, you said if I ever needed anything, you’d be there.”

“Yes of course.” She slid off the chair, placing her back towards Derrick as she stared at her feet unsure of how to address the thoughts she was having. “What’s going on, Victoria?”

“I need you to do something for me but I don’t know if I really want you to do it. I mean I do but I…it’s something that I never would ask unless I had to and it’s only because I have no other way to help Mike.” Tears started falling from her eyes as she held herself and Derrick stood from his seat and wrapped his arm over her shoulder.

“I don’t understand. Tell me what you need, Victoria.”

“I need you to get Tommy Calabrese to confess to what he’s done. I want him to pay for his crimes but there’s no evidence so I can’t. He’s always one step ahead of us and it’s cost us so much. First Mike’s brother and now his legs and I just…I want him to pay!”

“You mean you want me to compel him?” She nodded her head before resting it on his shoulder still unable to look him in the eyes. “Victoria, if I do this it won’t help you feel better you know that right? You’re not the kind of person to take shortcuts and this will only make you feel worse.”

“I can handle that. What I can’t handle is watching Mike waste away knowing he’ll be stuck in that chair for the rest of his life while Tommy is out and free to come and go as he pleases.”

Derrick listened to the mourning in her voice and realized there was no way he could talk her out of this. Just like walking into a nest of hungry vampires, she was determined to see this through. She had been lost the last week after Mike came home and he knew it. He saw it in her actions and the way she tackled her job without her partner.

Victoria had become very reckless in the way she was handling everything and sooner or later it was going to get her hurt or worse, killed. He felt her body shake with the force of her tears and pulled her deeper into his chest with a heavy sigh. “If you’re sure, Victoria, I’ll take care of it for you.” She again nodded and finally looked up at him.

“I’m sure, Derrick.”

“Then I’ll get it done,” he replied starting towards the door. Turning to give her one last look he couldn’t help but notice the uncertainty within her eyes and it made him pull back a step. “This isn’t something that’s going to come between us is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“If I do this, you’re not going to hate me for it, are you?”

“No absolutely not. I’m the one asking, Derrick, and you’re doing it for me.” Victoria gently touched his face as she looked into his eyes. “I need this and I appreciate that you’re doing it. I can never be angry at you for this.” 

Placing his hands over hers Derrick could feel her pulse, steady and calm. “I’ll be back soon.” Victoria grabbed Derrick’s shirt as he turned and pulled him towards her. Holding on to him as if it would be their last kiss shared, she melded her body into his, whimpering against them as he sensuously caressed her lips. He nodded, kissed her cheek and slid his thumb across her knuckles as he dropped her hands to her side.

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