The Demon Within Page 14

  “Delaney,” Rocco extended his hand. “Long time, no see – well, not that long actually,” Rocco corrected himself. “That was only last month in the park, right?”

  Finn came nowhere near matching Rocco’s enthusiasm. “Hey Rocco, what’s up?”

  “I’m here for the luncheon for a guy in my command.” Rocco looked up at the pub sign above the windows. “I’ve never been here before, but I heard it’s a nice place, and something of a cop bar.”

  “I guess you could say that,” Finn replied.

  Rocco’s smile was wide again. “I wasn’t aware it was one of these alternative lifestyle bars, though.”

  Finn shot an icy glare in Rocco’s direction.

  “Hey,” Rocco put his hands up and took a step back. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m just saying it’s interesting.”

  Finn looked back down to the screen of his phone. Maybe a demon would attach itself to Rocco while he was having lunch. For at least that instant, the thought of Rocco blurting out Latin phrases made him feel good.

  "Chris, it's Finn Delaney."

  "I saw the news story on the demonstration on Woodhaven Boulevard. I was expecting your call. I’m RDO tomorrow,” Chris said. “I’d like to come by the pub tomorrow morning before it opens. Can you arrange that?

  “Sure,” Finn replied. “Kevin is the day bartender. He can open anytime he wants.”

  “Good,” Chris said. “How about 9AM?”

  “That’s fine. What exactly are you going to do?” Finn asked.

  “We’ll go over it tomorrow,” Chris calmly responded. “I need to talk to both of you before we go into the pub. Can we meet somewhere nearby?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Finn thought for a moment. “My office is right across the street. How’s that?”

  “That will be fine. See you tomorrow.”

  Chapter 12: Exorcism – NYPD Style

  May 21st

  9AM found Finn sitting at his desk, tapping his pen rhythmically on the electric pencil sharpener. The voice from the other desk sounded concerned. “I hope this guy knows what he’s doing.”

  Finn stopped tapping and frowned. “Do you want a resume from him? At this point we don’t have much choice, do we?”

  “I guess you’re right.” Kevin looked through several crossword books on top of the desk. “Are crossword puzzles all that old bat does all day?”

  Finn was trying to decide whether to defend his secretary or pile on with Kevin’s sentiments when his train of thought was disturbed by the sound of the street door. “That must be Chris,” Finn said.

  “Gentlemen,” Chris nodded officiously as he entered the office.

  Finn pointed to the folding chair he had set up equidistant between Kevin and himself. “Have a seat, Chris.”

  Once Chris was seated, Finn inhaled, and was ready with his first question when Kevin beat him to the punch. “So, are you like the exorcist from the movie? Are you going to exorcise these demons out of me and Finn?”

  Finn cringed with embarrassment, but Chris didn’t alter his calm expression and steady tone as he responded to Kevin. “I know my limitations as a maligner—I don’t do exorcisms of people, only places. If a spirit has attached itself to a person I have to call one of the priests in my society. They’d need to get permission from a bishop, and unfortunately the Church doesn’t want to get involved with stuff like that these days. There might be another technique I can use in this case, but we’ll get to that later.”

  Finn had the next question. “In real demonic activity, how does it start?”

  “Like I told you when we met, most of the time it’s because of people dabbling in the occult—and with people like Aamon Lasalle. Anytime you’re trying to retain knowledge or power from a supernatural source, it comes with a major price tag.”

  “So,” Finn continued, “Are we ready to go across the street? Do you need anything from us?

  Chris shook his head. “I just bring my sacramentals—a cross and blessed salt. Once inside, I’ll recite Pope Leo XIII's prayer of exorcism, which is very effective and can be used by all Catholics in times when devilish mischief is suspected.” Chris pointed at Finn and then at Kevin. “Are you both Catholic?”

  “Yeah,” They responded in unison.

  Chris displayed a shiny silver medal in his right hand. “I also hang the miraculous medal of Saint Catherine Labouré on a wall somewhere inside the property. No one in the bar will know it’s there, but if it’s a true haunting, the unfriendly visitors will sense it from a mile away. This is good for a demonic harassment, but if it goes untreated, it can develop into possession.”

  Finn clapped his hands once. “Well, are we ready?”

  “We?” Chris questioned. “All I need you to do is open the pub and wait outside.”

  As they crossed the street, Kevin fumbled for the keys in his pocket. He walked ahead and inserted the key and turned. He gave the heavy pub door a push to ensure it was open. “The light is to the right, and the door to the basement is on the opposite side of the bar.”

  “This shouldn’t take long,” Chris remarked as he disappeared behind the door.

  Kevin leaned on a parked car while Finn paced back and forth on the sidewalk. “What if he doesn’t come out?” Kevin remarked

  Finn waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  “Yeah,” Kevin shot back. “But what if he comes out growling at us in Latin?”

  Before Finn could consider entertaining Kevin’s remark, the pub door swung open. “That was fast,” Finn exclaimed.

  “That’s all there is to it,” Chris replied.

  “Did you get them?” Kevin asked.

  Chris snickered slightly. “I’m not like an exterminator using bug spray in a house. We’ll see how effective I was in time.”

  “So that’s it?” Finn asked.

  “Not quite,” Chris explained. “My exorcism was of the building. Like I said, I don’t exorcise people. You two may need to be cleansed.”

  Finn scratched his head. “But if you don’t exorcise people, how can you help us?”

  “Like I said before, in this case there may be an alternative technique.”

  “What technique?” Kevin asked.

  “We go to the source,” Chris said.

  “What source?” Finn asked.

  “Who caused your problems?” Chris asked.

  “Aamon Lasalle,” Finn responded.

  “Exactly!” Chris exclaimed.

  “So?” Finn questioned.

  “So,” Chris continued. “We go see Aamon Lasalle.”

  Finn Strained to see the contour of the road ahead. The mechanical female voice on his GPS had just announced a left turn in five hundred feet, but visually, he saw no sign of an intersecting road. The features of Mill Road were identical for as far as he could see. The thick tree growth blocked visibility to both sides of the road, and huge trees drooped together at the top, as if holding hands to block the sunlight. Finn found this a fascinating aspect about life in the New York Metropolitan Area. Less than ten minutes removed from the New York City Borough of Queens, Finn navigated down this rural road in Old Brookville that may just as well have been five hundred miles from the city.

  “There it is.” Chris Moritz noticed the road two seconds before the GPS announced a left turn on Remsen Lane. Remsen Lane was narrower and lined with even thicker rows of trees and bushes than Mill Lane.

  “What the hell is this?” Kevin blurted from the back seat. “There’s nothing out here but squirrels.”

  “Look!” Finn slowed the Camry and took one hand off the wheel, pointing to an object that caught his attention on the right side of the road. He eyed the white metal box attached to the red wood pole. “It’s a mailbox.” Just as Finn made the revelation, the trees adjacent to the mailbox disappeared revealing a driveway of ornate brickwork. A closer inspection of the mailbox revealed LASALLE printed on its side. “I guess we’re at the right plac
e,” Finn opined as he turned onto the driveway.

  Kevin was the first to react to the home. “Wow! All I can say is casting spells must be a good business.”

  It was a large country house, a mansion, ornate in its architecture and splendid in its gardens. Finn stopped in front of the massive front door and looked at Chris. “By the way, how did you know Lasalle lived out here.”

  “It’s my business to know where these guys are,” he responded in his usual even tone. “Let’s go talk to Mr. Lasalle.”

  There was a large brass knocker on the huge double front door. When Chris used the knocker, the echoing boom reminded Finn of the sound the door made on the old TV show The Munsters.

  Aamon Lasalle looked neither fearful or angry. Finn perceived mostly curiosity from this ghoul who had sic’d his demons on him. What was striking, however, was that the man standing in the doorway looked nothing like the creep in the hood and robe waving and chanting outside the pub window. This Aamon Lasalle had apparently just returned from the golf course, as he was decked out in a light blue golf shirt, tan slacks, and white golf shoes.

  Lasalle’s face wore a sarcastic smile as he addressed Chris. “What in the world would bring you here?”

  “I think you know,” Chris replied. “The evocation you performed at my friend’s pub.”

  “Hey!” Lasalle exclaimed. “Your friends screwed with me, so now they have to suffer the consequences.”

  Chris’s tone was still very measured. “I don’t think you understand, me. I want you to lay off them.”

  Lasalle’s tone was more menacing. “I don’t think you understand me. The darkness is on them and it will stay on them.”

  Chris shrugged. There was still not a hint of excitement in his voice. “OK, so that’s your last word on this?”

  “That’s right,” Lasalle chuckled. “Why don’t you ask your God to help them?”

  Chris remained calm. “No, I don’t think I need him for this one.” Chris took a step forward and grabbed Lasalle with both hands by his shirt collar. In one fluid movement he yanked Lasalle out of his doorway and let out a grunt as he literally threw Lasalle into some large bushes lining his doorway.

  “What are you doing?” Lasalle squealed, kicking his legs and trying to get up from the bushes.

  “Let me help you up.” Chris offered. He reached down and again grabbed Lasalle by his collar. This time the dominating sound was Lasalle’s high pitch scream as Chris hurled into the bushes on the opposite side of the doorway. Chris was not breathing hard as he calmly reached down and grabbed the prone Lasalle with one hand, ripping his shirt as he partially lifted him out of the bush. “Do we understand each other now, Lasalle?”

  “Yes, yes,” Lasalle gasped. “Your friends will have no more problems.”

  “Good.” Chris released his grip on the shirt and Lasalle fell back into the bush.

  “Let’s go fellas,” Chris turned and walked to the Camry.

  Not a word was spoken inside the car as Finn weaved through the rural roads of Old Brookville. It wasn’t until they were on the Long Island Expressway that Kevin leaned forward from the back seat and addressed Chris. “Was that an exorcism?”

  Chris continued looking out the front windshield. “I guess you could say that.”

  “So that’s it!” Finn blurted, “It’s over?”

  Chris shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe.”

  Kevin leaned forward from the back seat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Chris turned in seat to face Kevin. “It means that it’s either over, or it’s going to get worse for you guys. When Lasalle pulls himself out of the bushes it just depends on how pissed off he is and how serious he thinks I am.”

  Kevin slumped back in the seat. “This is just wonderful.”

  Chris turned toward Kevin with just the hint of a smile. “Hey, think positive.”

  Chapter 13: Discovery

  May 24th

  “Where exactly are we going?” Finn asked. “Meg said she gave you the directions.”

  “Some Italian restaurant in Bayside.”

  “What’s the name?”

  “I don’t remember,” Kevin shrugged.

  Finn slapped the steering wheel. “That’s great. I can always count on you, can’t I?”

  “Simmer down, Finbar,” Kevin cautioned. “It’s on the corner of Union Turnpike and Springfield Boulevard. So, unless there’s an Italian joint on every corner, there’s no problem.”

  “By the way,” Finn mentioned, “Why no date. I thought you knew how to work these dating apps.”

  Kevin shook his head. “I’m taking a break. With my recent luck I probably would end ended up bringing a vampire. I don’t think Meg who have appreciated that, do you?

  Finn chuckled. “Probably not.”

  Kevin sighed. “I’m just going to enjoy the evening solo.” He pointed to the green highway sign. “There’s the Union Turnpike exit.”

  Two minutes later Finn drove his Camry west on Union Turnpike approaching Springfield Boulevard. Kevin pointed to the southwest corner. “That must be it.”

  Finn blurted, “Hey, I’ve been here before.”

  “How’s the food?” Kevin asked.

  Finn pulled into a parking space on Union Turnpike. “I’ve never eaten here. Remember I told you about when I went to the crime scene and met that couple looking for an old tunnel.”

  Kevin snickered, “I remember. What happened? Did you come out of the tunnel in the restaurant’s dining room?

  “Close,” Finn pointed to an area to the northwest, adjacent to the parkway. “We came out of the tunnel over there, and the first thing I saw was the sign for Angelina’s.”

  Kevin rolled his eyes. “Wow, that’s very interesting. I wish I was there. I would have liked nothing better than to hang out in the woods with you and Ma and Pa Kettle.”

  “Well, no matter what you think it actually was interesting.”

  “Here’s something interesting that I’ll bet you don’t know.” Kevin pointed to the southwest. “Rory used to work right over there.”

  “Where?” Finn asked.

  “Right there.” Kevin continued pointing. “Are you blind?”

  “Wait a minute,” Finn said. “Rory worked at an armored car depot. You’re pointing at a self-storage warehouse.”

  “The depot went under about eight months after the robbery,” Kevin explained. “Now it’s one of those Storage Wars places.”

  Kevin rubbed his hands together. “OK, let’s get ready to party!”

  “Down boy,” Finn warned.

  “Hey!” Kevin replied. “Maybe some of Meg’s sister’s friends will be available.”

  Finn stopped and placed his hands on his hips. “Are you out of your mind? This is a sweet sixteen party.”

  “Hey!” Kevin exclaimed. “Old enough to sit at the table, old enough to eat.”

  Finn held the restaurant door and provided a final thought as Kevin walked past. “Don’t expect me to bail you out of jail.”

  Finn stepped inside the restaurant party room that was as elegant as the hall for a wedding reception. He shook his head and took in the scene. He just didn’t get it, and as a male he probably never would. Why would parents spend thousands of dollars on a birthday party?

  Girls in fancy dresses, heavy makeup, and high heels scurried around the dance floor, caught in a vortex between little girl and woman. Off in a corner of the room Meg sat at a table with her parents. Meg’s expression brightened as she battled through the traffic on the dance floor to greet Finn.

  “Hey, I was beginning to worry about you,” Meg said

  Finn gave her a peck on the forehead. “I had to wait for him,” Finn nodded toward Kevin.

  “Some things never change,” Meg chuckled.

  “Well,” Kevin adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you lovebirds alone while I circulate.”

  “Be nice, Kevin,” Meg warned. “My dad is very nervous tonight. He’s watching K
aty and her friends like a hawk.”

  “Hey!” Kevin pointed to himself. “The big guy is the picture of social grace.”

  Kevin took a couple of steps, but Finn caught his by the arm. “I’m serious. Forget about that old enough to eat crap you fed me. These are sixteen-year old kids, and remember, Meg’s dad was a Golden Gloves boxer. Get my point?”

  “Just take care of yourself, mother,” Kevin mocked.

  Four hours later Finn was relieved – relieved the party was over – relieved Kevin had not made a complete fool of himself, and relieved to be parting company with Meg. His attitude toward Kevin made sense. While he had ventured into the waters of borderline inappropriateness a couple of times on the dance floor, for the most part, Kevin remained planted on the firm ground of good taste. What bothered Finn was his relief at separating from Meg. She was obviously enjoying the evening with him, and he was having a good time with her, so why was he insistent at keeping her at arms-length? Why did thought of growing closer to Meg frighten him?

  Finn and Kevin walked down Union Turnpike, or a more accurately, Kevin danced down the sidewalk.

  “What’s your problem?” Finn remarked.

  “Nothing,” Kevin kept making his moves. “I still have the music in me.”

  “Calm down!” Finn warned. “You got through the night without being arrested, so don’t press your luck.”

  Kevin switched to a walk. “What a party pooper,” he said. “By the way, why isn’t Meg coming with us?”

  “Huh?” Finn’s mind had become preoccupied.

  Kevin repeated, “I said, why isn’t Meg coming with us? She is your date tonight, isn’t she?”

  “Meg’s going in the limo with her sister.” Finn stood at the curb next to his Camry, focusing on something across Union Turnpike.”

  “That’s sort of rude of her, don’t you think?”

  “What?”

  “I said,” Kevin snapped, “that she’s being rude.”

  Finn turned toward Kevin. “I appreciate your concern, but don’t worry about it. She invited me to go in the limo with her.”

  “Why didn’t you go?”

  Finn turned back toward his mysterious subject across Union Turnpike. “I don’t trust you with my car.”