He was found by Will Tucker later that afternoon as he was returning from town. They say Will wept openly as he brought his employer’s body into the doctor’s cottage. Walter was buried in a closed coffin the very next day, on a plot he and Thelma had picked out only the year before, down by the creek that flowed through their property. He still lays there to this day, a small memorial park surrounding it, set up in his honour.
Thelma eventually sold the farm and headed back to England a widow, childless and forever heartbroken. The farm was eventually broken up into several pieces, the hill purchased by the Victorian Government, around 100 acres in total. The prison had been built in the 1920s to house the state’s worst criminals, eventually including Harry Lightman. Crab Apple became notorious for harsh criminals and harsher guards, with one in particular, Arthur Dhurrin, famous for breaking fingers with a night-stick he lovingly called Mr. Knuckles. But that’s another story entirely and one I may share at some future time.
Chapter 3: Meeting the Devil, Part 2.
1.
It was nearly 9 o’clock by the time Steph pulled the car into the parking lot of the Crab Apple Hill prison, its high concrete walls looming off to one side, barbed wire skirting the top of them in great bushels of twisted metal. There were no guard towers on each corner like the traditional jails as Crab Apple was substantially smaller. Rather, the prison had an inner wall and an outer wall. Each wall had a walkway built on top of it, with one armed guard patrolling between the perimeter walls and two guards patrolling atop each wall. There was no protection from the elements and each guard was expected to complete a four-hour shift without break whether rain, hail or shine. I could see one of the guards now, standing atop the outer perimeter, a rifle slung over his shoulder and staring at us. As I opened my door to climb out of the car, I felt as if the air itself had taken on a thicker, more condensed form. I suddenly found it more difficult to breathe, my heartbeat now pulsing in my temples.
“You OK there Jim?” I looked at her and offered a weak smile that felt fake. Steph’s look told me she recognized my smile for what it was; raw fear. I was about to come face to face with the man responsible for at least fourteen, if not sixteen, murders of the most savage kind. A man that would have so much hatred for me that I was positive he would tear my throat out if given the smallest opportunity.
“I’m good,” I said, but doubted my words as soon as they were out. Somehow, since I had received the first phone call from Steph, this moment had been playing in the back of my mind. This point in time where I would have to confront him, and do what had been the subject of so many nightmares; endless nights of waking in a cold sweat with my pillow drenched, throat sore from either crying, screaming or both. I had to face the devil, and once again, look him in the eye.
2.
I walked towards the bluestone steps that led to the little side door that flanked the big iron gate, very little enthusiasm in my step. The inner wall was visible through the railings, the huge gate standing nearly 20 feet high. There was a guard standing just inside, watching us approach. He was frowning at me, turned his attention to the woman walking beside me and smiled.
“Officer Connor, what a pleasure,” he said in a surprisingly jovial tone.
“Hey, Jack. How you been?”
“Good, good. Haven’t seen you at the meetings lately?” His eyes were so smitten with her that I doubted he knew I was there.
“Busy with work. You know how it is,” she said casually. “This is Jim Lawson, here to see the warden. Is he in?” Steph had a tone about her that I definitely hadn’t heard before. If I had to put a name to it, I would have called it flirting and doing a fine job of it. The guard was leaning against the gate for support, almost swooning over her.
“Yeah, he’s in alright. And in a fine mood. People have been ringin him all day, askin if he’s keepin Lucifer locked up. Really sure you want to see him?” He gave me the briefest up and down, saw nothing of interest, then refocused his attention on his prize. “You plannin on comin back to the club soon?”
“Have to see him. Police business, you understand. And yes, I will return soon. Just been busy. Wanna let us in?”
“Oh, of course, sorry. One sec.” He disappeared from view as a jingling of keys and a rattle of something bumped against the smaller door. Finally, the door swung inwards revealing the guard standing with a huge grin almost eclipsing the rest of his face. He waved us through and for a moment it looked as though he was going to lean forward enough to try and kiss Steph as she walked by him. He pulled himself up at the last second, colour flushing his cheeks. Steph didn’t hesitate, walking briskly toward the huge gate that served as the only entrance through the inner wall. Even sunlight struggled
