The Story of Silence

Silence Mourner is like every other person out there, but not every person is like Silence.

The story starts in the small, Italian village of Paura where Father Demetre finds a four-year-old boy in the snow beside three fresh graves. A mystery surrounds the boy, who is he? What was he doing out there alone in the cold? How did he get there? Whose graves are they? And finally, why can the boy no longer speak? Faced with these problems, Father Demetre takes the boy in and with the help of the village doctor, they care for him until a stranger from New York comes to claim him.

Now named Silence Mourner, follow this boy's road to manhood in the distant city of New York where he has slowly come to forget his secret, but his silence serving as a reminder that it should never be told. Now faced with a girl from his youth who is determined to bring it into the light, will it stay concealed, or will his desire to remember bring it all out?

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12. Chapter 12

Early Sunday morning. 1:43 AM:

The rain beat down in the early morning, creating gloom which seemed to sweep the city, and it didn’t stop. Simon Finnegan didn’t like the rain. It made him wet when he was in it, and he didn’t like feeling wet. And when he wasn’t in it his body got all sticky from it.

It wasn’t supposed to be raining, it wasn’t the weather for rain, it never rained in March, and now he was outside in it scaling a fence in the dark.

Earlier, Simon had received a phone call from an ‘acquaintance’, asking him to do a job. He would receive the pay in the usual manner of an unmarked envelope filled with unmarked bills in the trash can outside his house. Not that the people who called him to ask for help knew where he lived, he always collected the pay outside a different person’s house for each customer. He felt it safe to keep his whereabouts and normal life a secret from them.

He landed on the other side of the fence and crossed the lawn, stopping at the two big, double glass backdoors which gave access into the house of Joseph Amerigo.

Looking around to make sure that no-one was watching, he proceeded to break the lock of the door. It was dark outside for the moon was behind the clouds and so were the stars, but you could never be too careful. The lock clicked and he slid the door open and stepped inside. He clicked the flashlight from his pocket on and moved the strong beam around the room.

He wasn’t sure what exactly he was looking for. His boss -for the moment- had told him that it was most likely a book. Well, Simon knew where you kept books that you didn’t want anyone to find. He swung the beam one last time around the room and then moved cautiously out of the dining room.

He entered into the kitchen. It was large, and it had a table running through the middle of it for more bench room. He started there, in the knife drawer, and then moved on to the oven, then the dish washer, then the backs of both them. He also searched through all drawers and cupboards for any secret compartments which could fit a book or just any secret compartments at all. His boss had told him to just look for the book, but why not look for other things of value while you’re at it, was Simon’s thoughts. What he did was illegal so stealing other things was fine.

Moving out of the kitchen he entered into the sitting room and proceeded to search the couches.

In the house that sat beside Amerigo’s, lived Frank Miller. He was standing next to his window on the second floor of his house, peeking through the curtains. He was busy watching intently the beam of light that shone through the curtains of the house next door.

He watched it move from the dining room at the far end of the house and work its way to the kitchen right next to it.

After watching it for another second he picked up the receiver lying next to him on the table next to his bed, and dialed 911. When the police were on the line he reported a ‘light shining in the house of the late Joseph Amerigo’. He then gave them his address and replaced the receiver to wait.

Simon left the sitting room after ransacking the place and decided to move upstairs to see what he could find.

There had been no books in the sitting room besides the normal magazines, but then Simon didn’t think of magazines as books. He crossed over to the stairs and ran up them two at a time. At the top he found himself in an open area with two couches, and a large projector screen on the wall.

To the left of the top of the stairs was another room, Simon entered into it. It turned out to be a study. And along one wall, the one that you saw as you entered into the room, was a bookshelf. Simon hurried over to it and started making his way through the books.

Frank watched the light disappear and glanced nervously at his watch. What if the police didn’t arrive in time and the thief got away? He might have to take action on his own. Frank crossed his bedroom and opening his wardrobe, pulled out a heavy baseball bat. If the worst came to the worst, at least he would have something to defend himself with.

Crossing back over to the window he took another peek through it. The light had appeared and it was in Amerigo’s spare bedroom. Frank knew this because all the houses on the street were made the same, and Frank’s spare room was on the other side of the house from his.

He glanced at his watch again and gripped his bat. He’d give it another ten minutes, if the police hadn’t arrived by then, he would go over there himself.

In Amerigo’s house, Simon had finished going through all of the belongings in the spare bedroom. He knew he was being thorough, but he wondered if he should have started with Amerigo’s room first. And if he didn’t find anything there, then move on to the other rooms and see what he could find.

He closed the drawer of the dresser, shone his light around the room to see if he had missed anything, and left the room. He walked along the hall until he came to the next room and entered into it. This one looked to belong to Amerigo. It still had pictures on the dresser and the wardrobe was full of clothing. Simon started searching.

He found after five minutes, in the wall in the wardrobe, a button which when clicked, opened up the wall to revel a secret room.

Simon was pleased with himself, not everyone would think of looking in the back of a wardrobe for a secret compartment, let alone a whole room. He shone his flashlight inside. There were shelves lining all the walls except one. That one was covered in guns, and other various instruments for causing pain. He walked over to that wall and was lost for the moment in what he saw there, forgetting what he was supposed to be doing.

He was aroused from his gazing when he heard a footstep on the stairs, and then on the hallway outside the room. He realised with sinking dread that while he had been busy gazing he had completely missed someone else entering the house.

He pulled one of the guns off of the wall and opened it with a click. It was empty. He could hear more footsteps now, they were getting closer. He pulled another gun off the wall; this one was smaller and easier to hide. Turning off his flashlight he pressed himself into the shadows of the room. He held the gun close as a figure rushed into the room. A couple of seconds ticked by before the intruder’s flashlight beam fell upon the room. There was muffled talking and then steps approaching the room.

A policeman entered and passed Simon. The policeman gave off a whistle as the beam of the flashlight fell, as did his eyes, onto the selection of weapons. Simon raised the gun above his head and brought it down hard upon the head of the officer.

The officer dropped to the floor with a thud and Simon ran out of the room. There weren’t many places to hide, and it was a bad idea to hide. What he had to do now was get out of the house.

He pushed the window open and stepped out onto the ledge, and then crawled along, being careful not to make too much noise that might alert the police inside and maybe below.

How in hell did the police get here! Simon screamed in his mind. His only answer to that was that a neighbour must have seen or heard him enter and alerted them. It wouldn’t have been his boss; his boss needed him to get something for him. He wouldn’t call the police in case they found what he needed.

Simon reached the corner of the house and found to his delight a drainpipe. He gripped onto it and slid down. He hit the ground and ran.

A dog started barking off to his right, and he heard a man shouting. He jumped over the fence in front and landed in the property of another house. He ran round the corner of the house and his side connected with the swing of Frank Miller’s bat. Doubling over, Simon fell onto his side, completely lost of breath.

Policemen jumped the fence and reached Frank who was quivering and holding his bat tight in his hands, a look of grim determination on his face, and Simon lying on the ground groaning and clutching his side. The police officer closest grabbed Simon and handcuffed his hands behind his beck and dragged him over to a waiting car. Simon continued groaning as he was pushed into the car next to another officer.

Walking over to the car a man peered into the window.

‘You are under arrest for the break in of the late Joseph Amerigo’s house, and for the assault of a police officer in the call of duty. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law, and you have the right to a lawyer if you want.’ He straightened up and tapped the roof of the car and the driver pulled away. He then turned and walked over to Frank Miller.

‘Well done with that bat, sir!’ he congratulated him. ‘We might have lost him if you hadn’t stopped him. And thank you for alerting us of the break in.’

Frank nodded and said, ‘We can’t have ruffians like that breaking into the homes of neighbour’s and then trying out their getaway through our own property! It’s just not done.’

‘Yessir,’ replied the sergeant. ‘Thank you for your help once again, sir, and may I ask if you’d be able to accompany us over to the station and help us file a report? It won’t take long, sir.’

Frank nodded and then looked down at his dark blue pyjamas.

‘I can’t go out wearing these, I’ll change. Be with you in a couple of minutes.’ The sergeant nodded and turned round as another policeman walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

‘Yes, Officer Jones?’

‘From what we’ve found, sir, I think we’d better start an investigation on the late Mr Amerigo. We’ve found over a dozen illegal guns in a secret room in his home, and as far as we know Amerigo held no license for any weapons. We have also discovered another room connected to the basement…’ The officer stopped.

‘Go on.’

‘I think you’d better have a look at it, sir,’ Officer Jones finished.

The sergeant nodded. ‘Please escort Mr Miller to the station when he comes out and help him file a report, and I’ll take a look.’

Officer Jones nodded and headed off to the house. The sergeant, Dave Maxwell, headed off to Joseph Amerigo’s house, wondering what exactly was found.

He followed the path of the hall and to the staircase that lead up to the second floor. Under the staircase was a small door which was open and a police officer was standing guard. The officer stood to attention as his sergeant arrived.

Maxwell nodded in acknowledgement and headed down the steps into the basement. It was the normal sort made of stone, and it was fitted out with impressive looking pieces of equipment. Maxwell’s random guess was to be worth a pretty penny for it all.

Another officer came out of a room adjourning the basement, looking green in the face. He saluted quickly and then rushed off up the stairs. Maxwell heard him a moment later throwing up.

Nervous now, Maxwell crossed the floor and entered into the other room. He stopped dead in the middle of the doorway and gazed at the sight that lay before him.

Though he had been on a couple of different assignments, and had seen some gruesome scenes, what lay before him was definitely on the list of his top five worst scenes ever seen by him.

He turned round and closed the door behind him and then rushed up the stairs to where the officer keeping guard stood.

‘I think we’d better hand this over to someone higher up…’

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