Noorilhuda's Blog - Posts Tagged "pedophilia"
SAYING YES TO PEDOPHILIA
Apparently it has been going on forever. The cloak of absolute silence, unquestioning support and aggressive defense of criminal sexual behavior with underage persons, children infact, is everywhere.
Whether it is the priest who covers for a dean of the Church of England, a TV organization turning a blind eye to persistent rumors about a celebrity DJ, oblivious headmasters of a £25,953 per term boys’ preparatory boarding school where teachers joined 7-13 year old students during baths, the former U.S. President and leading philanthropist whose best friend, a billionaire, had a taste for underage teenage girls allegedly kept as sex slaves, and talented actors’ unapologetic stance for the disturbing predilections of two legendary film directors - the bottom line is the same in each case: the good outweighs the bad: hence the sexual preference (or even the need) of Very Reverend Robert Waddington of Bradford, Dean of Manchester, is inconsequential in his larger service to spreading the word of God, raising the congregation and funds for the cathedral.
'He was a good man with a very bad habit.'
Sir Jimmy Savile died a happy satisfied rich old famous man of 84, never brought to justice for abusing hundreds of kids in all the years he toured UK and hosted BBC shows, and raised £40 million for charities. He was important to the pop culture evolution of the country. What he did in his personal life was nobody’s business - least of all BBC’s or the people he worked with - that is until 2012 when the s*** hit the fan.
'He was a knight with a very bad habit.'
The first duty of Summer Fields administration is toward protecting the school’s reputation, damage control and showing remorse for negligence - the fact that it failed to have a proper monitoring system for the guardians - the teachers themselves - to make sure any impropriety does not occur goes unsaid or is lost in translation.
Bill Clinton only ‘severed’ ties with Jeffrey Epstein when his exploits became public knowledge and became a liability for the personal celebrity, goodwill and undying political hope Clinton garners from all over the world.
Roman Polanski used holocaust and Woody Allen used his neurosis to garner sympathy and get away with sexual abuse of minors. And they did it with an arrogance and self-serving persecution complex that lesser talents found endearing: ‘all genius has a few cracks, let bygones be bygones: the rape victim has said as much, and Allen even married the underage teenager he was taking nude photos of! Everything is fine now’.
All this happened under the noses of people who ought to have known and acted better, but didn’t. And it happened in a know-it-all society rife with enlightenment philosophies, self-help gurus, survivor groups and cautionary tales.
All of this is literally a world away from Pakistan, where sexual knowledge of any sort is considered taboo and denial is the tool to tackle all unpleasant problems with - unless the perpetrator is caught on tape dumping a girl near a hospital! In September 2013, five-year old Sumbul was left unconscious, with bloodied clothes, near the green-belt of Sir Ganga Ram Hospital, one of the oldest and most prestigious ones in Lahore, Pakistan’s 2nd largest city. The doctors confirmed she had been raped ‘repeatedly‘ for more than an hour and by more than one person and ‘from both sides’. Her 3 year old cousin, a boy, who was also kidnapped, was dropped at Services Hospital. Both had been playing outside their residence in a small colony when they went missing.
http://www.dawn.com/news/1042790
http://www.dawn.com/news/1123863
A CCTV footage made the facial recognition of the man possible. Months of 24-hour media coverage yielded no result. 400 suspects were interviewed. All set free. The case went cold. The complicity of the community and friends (and inability of NADRA to ID him) made it impossible to trace this man. The brawny moustached fellow from the video still roams somewhere in Lahore.
Apart from the forced and illegal sex with minor girls, recently director Muhammad Al Naqvi explored the accepted (though unacknowledged) practice of sex with boys in the documentary ‘Pakistan’s Hidden Shame‘ that aired on Channel 4 (UK):
http://www.channel4.com/programmes/pa...
It tells the story of boys, some as young as eight, who are used and exploited by bus/ truck drivers (on lengthy rides across cities) in the frontier province called ‘Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa’, which borders Afghanistan. The culture that throws unattended vulnerable boys in the company of powerful men without impunity or accountability is apparently not just a Western phenomenon. And in Pakistan it is certainly not limited to KPK province either, though the first time I heard of the problem over there was as a newbie Associate Producer for a channel’s flagship current affairs show: In September 2003, several students of an all boys school (KPK was then called NWFP) complained to their parents about abuse at the hands of teachers. A huge scandal ensued. It didn’t go anywhere.
Getting rid of accused teachers is difficult, they get summary suspension - mostly with pay - and prosecution is hindered by unwilling families who refuse to go through the lengthy nightmarish and tedious judicial process that defames them. The venues open for boys to go and talk about their problems and move on is also limited.
In some cultures, it is not even considered abuse - it is a source of pride and honor to have a young vibrant good-looking boy by your side for example as you head a meeting of notables in Mardan and Charsadda (KPK cities), a Pashtun practice called ‘Bacha Bazi’. It is considered a sign of older man’s virility and attractiveness.
It may not even be considered an infraction or sexual relationship at all, since in some cultures it is not a ‘natural’ way of intercourse:
http://blogs.tribune.com.pk/story/898...
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/education-1...
The West is familiar with the Michael Jackson phenomena.
Every culture has it’s own names for accepted and unaccepted homosexual behavior. Some quote the incestuous Romans, some the law of nature and others the pre-Islamic Arab tradition that unfortunately is still followed.
But these are all technicalities. The real issue is the idea that it is okay to have ‘harmless fun’, ‘explore anatomy’ and ‘show the ropes’ to young / underage girls and boys - and if you are important enough, powerful enough, fulfill another duty perfectly, someone will ‘have your back’ and support you implicitly, blindly, faithfully.
Literature is partly to blame for this phenomena of acceptance of perverted behavior: Lolita is a work of pedophiliac fantasy, Anais Nin’s conversations with her father show crass incestuous behavior and Nabokov’s Van and Ada were both mentally ill people - the libertine sentimentality with which the work is accepted makes it easier to find excuses for actions of other brilliant men of authority.
I have been meaning to write this post ever since the news of Stephen Collins’ inappropriate behavior with children first broke. Pakistan’s state-owned television PTV used to show many iconic and famous U.S., UK and Australian television series and films in the 80s and 90s, and ‘Tales of the Golden Monkey’ was one of them. I was in grade 2 or 3 perhaps. Collins was the first crush I ever had. He remained this charming handsome dimpled romantic hero in the decades that followed courtesy TV adaptations of Danielle Steele, Barbara Taylor Bradford, true story of Betty Broderick, the long-running 7th Heaven, and the film The First Wives Club.
A few years ago, I was thrilled to meet him as he came out of the backstage door after performing in the Mel Brooks broadway musical in which he played the bamboozled King Arthur. I got my picture taken with him and he said my English was so good. And that was that.
And then the ugly business of ‘revelations’. Ofcourse there is more than one reason to believe that the story was planted specifically by an angry scorned soon-to-be-ex-wife who was blindsided by the divorce proceedings and unfair terms of financial agreements thereof. Irrespective of the exact nature of the circumstances that brought the disturbing audio to light (and illegality of it all), it is a fact that Collins led a child to touch his genitals and exposed himself to another - and in some cases allegedly even before Tales ever aired! I am sure parents have changed clothes infront of their young ones every once in a while, without it holding any special meaning unless thought of retrospectively by the child as an adult. There is nothing sexual about changing pants or a blouse unless it’s an advert running on TV and we all know how those things go! But to initiate any act of undress infront of another family’s child and that too with the perverted interest in seeing the expression on the child’s face or giving them a ‘feel’ crosses a line.
It’s the same line an Allen crosses when he thinks it’s okay to take pictures of his girlfriend’s daughter, or a Weiss crosses when he initiates sex with a willing underage sexual partner who wants to be given a role in TV or film, or a ticket master who brushes his hand against the breast of a 12-year old ‘accidentally’. It’s the line of appropriate and inappropriate behavior and your celebrity or power should not make it okay to get away with it. I feel there is a double standard - a convicted rapist got rewarded with an Oscar and the #11 greatest TV dad is being laid off work for being a pervert. Pakistani mothers have to be quiet of the daughters abuse if they want to see them married off; And Pakistani mullahs quick to rally against American / Indian conspiracies will never be seen on the street condemning the malpractice of authority by their own kind. Wrong is wrong. There cannot be layers of wrong, or grey areas of wrong, or justifications of wrong - those are for the psychologists and jurists to opine over - but as a society, people and parents, we ought to know and act better.
By giving these people work, any sort of recognition for that work, or hiding their ‘foibles’ for the greater good is wrong.
The world would be a much better place if we recognized the achievements of a person while underscoring his sickness as well, instead of making excuses for him or rejecting the accusations altogether, or brushing them under a carpet over a legality, sentiment or connection. That way, there would be less sex offenders and molesters, because most of them would be in jail - where they belong.
Whether it is the priest who covers for a dean of the Church of England, a TV organization turning a blind eye to persistent rumors about a celebrity DJ, oblivious headmasters of a £25,953 per term boys’ preparatory boarding school where teachers joined 7-13 year old students during baths, the former U.S. President and leading philanthropist whose best friend, a billionaire, had a taste for underage teenage girls allegedly kept as sex slaves, and talented actors’ unapologetic stance for the disturbing predilections of two legendary film directors - the bottom line is the same in each case: the good outweighs the bad: hence the sexual preference (or even the need) of Very Reverend Robert Waddington of Bradford, Dean of Manchester, is inconsequential in his larger service to spreading the word of God, raising the congregation and funds for the cathedral.
'He was a good man with a very bad habit.'
Sir Jimmy Savile died a happy satisfied rich old famous man of 84, never brought to justice for abusing hundreds of kids in all the years he toured UK and hosted BBC shows, and raised £40 million for charities. He was important to the pop culture evolution of the country. What he did in his personal life was nobody’s business - least of all BBC’s or the people he worked with - that is until 2012 when the s*** hit the fan.
'He was a knight with a very bad habit.'
The first duty of Summer Fields administration is toward protecting the school’s reputation, damage control and showing remorse for negligence - the fact that it failed to have a proper monitoring system for the guardians - the teachers themselves - to make sure any impropriety does not occur goes unsaid or is lost in translation.
Bill Clinton only ‘severed’ ties with Jeffrey Epstein when his exploits became public knowledge and became a liability for the personal celebrity, goodwill and undying political hope Clinton garners from all over the world.
Roman Polanski used holocaust and Woody Allen used his neurosis to garner sympathy and get away with sexual abuse of minors. And they did it with an arrogance and self-serving persecution complex that lesser talents found endearing: ‘all genius has a few cracks, let bygones be bygones: the rape victim has said as much, and Allen even married the underage teenager he was taking nude photos of! Everything is fine now’.
All this happened under the noses of people who ought to have known and acted better, but didn’t. And it happened in a know-it-all society rife with enlightenment philosophies, self-help gurus, survivor groups and cautionary tales.
All of this is literally a world away from Pakistan, where sexual knowledge of any sort is considered taboo and denial is the tool to tackle all unpleasant problems with - unless the perpetrator is caught on tape dumping a girl near a hospital! In September 2013, five-year old Sumbul was left unconscious, with bloodied clothes, near the green-belt of Sir Ganga Ram Hospital, one of the oldest and most prestigious ones in Lahore, Pakistan’s 2nd largest city. The doctors confirmed she had been raped ‘repeatedly‘ for more than an hour and by more than one person and ‘from both sides’. Her 3 year old cousin, a boy, who was also kidnapped, was dropped at Services Hospital. Both had been playing outside their residence in a small colony when they went missing.
http://www.dawn.com/news/1042790
http://www.dawn.com/news/1123863
A CCTV footage made the facial recognition of the man possible. Months of 24-hour media coverage yielded no result. 400 suspects were interviewed. All set free. The case went cold. The complicity of the community and friends (and inability of NADRA to ID him) made it impossible to trace this man. The brawny moustached fellow from the video still roams somewhere in Lahore.
Apart from the forced and illegal sex with minor girls, recently director Muhammad Al Naqvi explored the accepted (though unacknowledged) practice of sex with boys in the documentary ‘Pakistan’s Hidden Shame‘ that aired on Channel 4 (UK):
http://www.channel4.com/programmes/pa...
It tells the story of boys, some as young as eight, who are used and exploited by bus/ truck drivers (on lengthy rides across cities) in the frontier province called ‘Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa’, which borders Afghanistan. The culture that throws unattended vulnerable boys in the company of powerful men without impunity or accountability is apparently not just a Western phenomenon. And in Pakistan it is certainly not limited to KPK province either, though the first time I heard of the problem over there was as a newbie Associate Producer for a channel’s flagship current affairs show: In September 2003, several students of an all boys school (KPK was then called NWFP) complained to their parents about abuse at the hands of teachers. A huge scandal ensued. It didn’t go anywhere.
Getting rid of accused teachers is difficult, they get summary suspension - mostly with pay - and prosecution is hindered by unwilling families who refuse to go through the lengthy nightmarish and tedious judicial process that defames them. The venues open for boys to go and talk about their problems and move on is also limited.
In some cultures, it is not even considered abuse - it is a source of pride and honor to have a young vibrant good-looking boy by your side for example as you head a meeting of notables in Mardan and Charsadda (KPK cities), a Pashtun practice called ‘Bacha Bazi’. It is considered a sign of older man’s virility and attractiveness.
It may not even be considered an infraction or sexual relationship at all, since in some cultures it is not a ‘natural’ way of intercourse:
http://blogs.tribune.com.pk/story/898...
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/education-1...
The West is familiar with the Michael Jackson phenomena.
Every culture has it’s own names for accepted and unaccepted homosexual behavior. Some quote the incestuous Romans, some the law of nature and others the pre-Islamic Arab tradition that unfortunately is still followed.
But these are all technicalities. The real issue is the idea that it is okay to have ‘harmless fun’, ‘explore anatomy’ and ‘show the ropes’ to young / underage girls and boys - and if you are important enough, powerful enough, fulfill another duty perfectly, someone will ‘have your back’ and support you implicitly, blindly, faithfully.
Literature is partly to blame for this phenomena of acceptance of perverted behavior: Lolita is a work of pedophiliac fantasy, Anais Nin’s conversations with her father show crass incestuous behavior and Nabokov’s Van and Ada were both mentally ill people - the libertine sentimentality with which the work is accepted makes it easier to find excuses for actions of other brilliant men of authority.
I have been meaning to write this post ever since the news of Stephen Collins’ inappropriate behavior with children first broke. Pakistan’s state-owned television PTV used to show many iconic and famous U.S., UK and Australian television series and films in the 80s and 90s, and ‘Tales of the Golden Monkey’ was one of them. I was in grade 2 or 3 perhaps. Collins was the first crush I ever had. He remained this charming handsome dimpled romantic hero in the decades that followed courtesy TV adaptations of Danielle Steele, Barbara Taylor Bradford, true story of Betty Broderick, the long-running 7th Heaven, and the film The First Wives Club.
A few years ago, I was thrilled to meet him as he came out of the backstage door after performing in the Mel Brooks broadway musical in which he played the bamboozled King Arthur. I got my picture taken with him and he said my English was so good. And that was that.
And then the ugly business of ‘revelations’. Ofcourse there is more than one reason to believe that the story was planted specifically by an angry scorned soon-to-be-ex-wife who was blindsided by the divorce proceedings and unfair terms of financial agreements thereof. Irrespective of the exact nature of the circumstances that brought the disturbing audio to light (and illegality of it all), it is a fact that Collins led a child to touch his genitals and exposed himself to another - and in some cases allegedly even before Tales ever aired! I am sure parents have changed clothes infront of their young ones every once in a while, without it holding any special meaning unless thought of retrospectively by the child as an adult. There is nothing sexual about changing pants or a blouse unless it’s an advert running on TV and we all know how those things go! But to initiate any act of undress infront of another family’s child and that too with the perverted interest in seeing the expression on the child’s face or giving them a ‘feel’ crosses a line.
It’s the same line an Allen crosses when he thinks it’s okay to take pictures of his girlfriend’s daughter, or a Weiss crosses when he initiates sex with a willing underage sexual partner who wants to be given a role in TV or film, or a ticket master who brushes his hand against the breast of a 12-year old ‘accidentally’. It’s the line of appropriate and inappropriate behavior and your celebrity or power should not make it okay to get away with it. I feel there is a double standard - a convicted rapist got rewarded with an Oscar and the #11 greatest TV dad is being laid off work for being a pervert. Pakistani mothers have to be quiet of the daughters abuse if they want to see them married off; And Pakistani mullahs quick to rally against American / Indian conspiracies will never be seen on the street condemning the malpractice of authority by their own kind. Wrong is wrong. There cannot be layers of wrong, or grey areas of wrong, or justifications of wrong - those are for the psychologists and jurists to opine over - but as a society, people and parents, we ought to know and act better.
By giving these people work, any sort of recognition for that work, or hiding their ‘foibles’ for the greater good is wrong.
The world would be a much better place if we recognized the achievements of a person while underscoring his sickness as well, instead of making excuses for him or rejecting the accusations altogether, or brushing them under a carpet over a legality, sentiment or connection. That way, there would be less sex offenders and molesters, because most of them would be in jail - where they belong.
PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLER 'CATHARSIS' IS AVAILABLE ON PRE-ORDER
Ebook on Amazon. ASIN: B010IQSFN4CSP: https://www.createspace.com/5582229
AMAZON: http://www.amazon.com/dp/1514709759
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1514709759
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/catha...
(Libraries and resellers links to appear shortly)
Dark tale of a tough-as-nails detective, a curious old man and a persistent district attorney - all trying to catch a pedophile.
Fear is relative.
What would you do to be free?
https://www.goodreads.com/photo/autho...
http://www.amazon.com/Catharsis-Noori...
EXCERPT BELOW:
CONTENTS
TUESDAY - 1
WEDNESDAY - 55
THURSDAY MORN’ & AFTERNOON - 103
THURSDAY NIGHT - 158
FRIDAY - 200
A FEW DAYS LATER - 253
TUESDAY
“He’s right over there, waiting at your desk.”
She turned around to have a look at the person Sherriff Johnson wanted her to meet. The thin old man was already sitting at her desk with a calm expression.
“I wonder where all the blood goes?” She said out loud. “He looks half-dead and he’s our best shot?”
“Now Aurora he says he knows where the boy is,” Sheriff Johnson said.
“He had a dream.”
“He convinced the family. We have to play along or else they may go to the press.”
“Making us the bad guy no doubt. God, sometimes these people make me sick. We are supposed to follow real leads, not characters out of a bloody Stephen King novel!”
“Better be nice to him.”
She grunted and rushed out of his office.
He called out to her from behind.
“Hey Ro, one more thing. He drinks blood.”
“Beg-your-eff-pardon?”
“He carries a bit around.”
“He carries a bit what around?”
“Like a milkshake.”
“Is that legal?”
“He has a prescription for it.”
“And the hits keep coming.”
“Be -”
She did not let him finish.
٭ ٭ ٭
Without wasting a moment or breath she sat on her side of her desk and started.
“Hello, I hear you are some kind of blood sucking genius who knows where the body is. I’m Fox. So out with it Mr. Maxwell what-a-name Caine, where is Daniel?”
The frail guy smiled. Clearly, undeterred by her ambush, he remained motionless, sitting as he was, cross-legged with one hand on his knee and the other on the table. She hated him already.
“Who said Danny is dead?”
“Unless you are hard of hearing, and that wouldn’t surprise me, I did. Of course he is. Someone does not remain missing for 15 days without ending up in some hole somewhere. We just don’t know which one he is in. The attic, or river or under the kitchen sink.”
“He’s alive and we are getting late. We have to be at the 77th street cafe by twelve o’clock.”
“He’s in the cafe?”
“No. That’s where I have my lunch every Tuesday.” He got up to stand close to her. “So does the kidnapper.”
“Okay let’s go.” She noticed he had a cane.
Straightening himself up he asked, “Aren’t you going to take a few officers along?”
“I’m all the backup you’ll ever need,” she said checking her gun. “Come along.”
Soon they were driving to the place thirty blocks away.
“So tell me about yourself. How do you know the Logans?”
“I do not. I just happened to have a flat tire right outside their place and Mr. Logan was kind enough to let me use the phone.”
“And they believed the flat tire story?”
“They always do.....its hard enough being clever. One does not need to lay it too thick on grieving souls.”
‘A limping megalomaniac solves the crime’, she thought. ‘That will be the day.’
She had to ask. “You make puppets for a living do you not?”
“Yes.”
“Are you making a dummy of us?”
He glanced at her and milked his thoughts.
“Are you always this skeptical?” He asked in that raspy soft voice that she did not trust for a second.
“Comes with the job description,” she said making a left turn.
“Oh you won’t find a parking spot near the place. You’ll have to find a lot.”
“I’ll manage don’t worry.”
She double parked near the cafe.
“You’ll get a ticket.”
“No one will dare.” She pulled the brake, placed a ‘Criminal On Board’ card on the dashboard and locked the Ford. They walked to the corner coffee shop that read ‘Marionette’s’.
“You first,” she said as she opened the door for him.
“Thank you, are you going to pull the chair for me too?”
“We don’t want you stumbling over anything, now do we?” She said unapologetically.
“Your dates must be so proud.”
“No need to go snarky on me. I do a lot worse than bite.”
He gestured towards a table in the middle of the bustling shop.
“No, we should be in the corner,” she said.
“Oh no, I always sit here. Anything out of the routine may sniff off the buggar.”
“Do you bring women to lunches with you?”
“No.”
“Then it is safe to say he will be suspicious. Is he here?”
“No not yet.”
They sat down. A waitress came to take the order.
“Hi Jill, how are you today?”
“Same old same old. Day is slow.”
It didn’t look that way to Aurora. The place was cramped.
“Not asked out yet huh?” Caine smiled.
“He is just sitting over there!” Jill exclaimed. “He only asked for mocha and toffee, after I gave a shapeel about complementary croissants.”
“So the status quo remains. He did not increase the order,” Caine mused.
“Which means he is not interested.”
“That is not possible.”
Aurora had had enough. She had to jump in. “So what, forget him, find some other fool who will like complementary croissants even if he does not want one. I am sure there is some idiot here who will fancy you, and have high cholesterol for the rest of his life.”
Jill looked alarmingly at Caine who ventured an explanation.
“Yes, she is with me, though not by choice. Feel free to mind her; just don’t mess up her order. She does more than just bite!”
Aurora made a face. “Hey!”
Caine read from the menu card. “This time, Jill, I’ll have a roasted almond tea with vanilla topping.”
“Okay, still no winner on the favorites yet huh?” said Jill scribbling away.
“The world is built on hope.” He handed over the card.
Jill turned to Aurora.
“Oh no. Nothing.”
Caine said, “Oh we’ll be here a while. The cat is not in the bag yet, if you catch my drift. He is not in yet.”
Aurora could not believe it. “Nobody talks that way anymore......Cappuccino, better have a good foamy head on top.”
“What size?” Jill asked.
“How large is your Large?”
“Eight inches.”
“I’ll just have to get by, won’t I?”
Jill tried not to show the rolling of her eyes.
“Anything to go with the drinks?”
“No.” said Aurora canvassing the area.
“Not today, thank you,” Caine said. “And why don’t you delay his coffee? He is bound to come up to you.”
Jill nodded and gave Aurora a sliding glance as she walked away.
“How did you become a detective with such marvelous people skills?” Caine asked shaking his napkin.
Ignoring the jibe she asked, “Who is this guy we are chasing? How do you know him? How do you know who he is? How do you know what he is?”
“I’m glad we are warming up to each other,” He said enveloping the napkin neatly. “Why don’t you have a partner?”
She lunged back to the chair. “I’m in-between. He got shot. He had a problem hearing me as well.”
“Is he alive?”
“What do you think?” She put one elbow on the table. “God, you psychics! You think it is a walk in the park. This is the real world Mister Smooth, not the world of hand crafted animals and joy rides, and in it when someone is hurt, they stay hurt. When someone is dead, they stay dead.”
“I never said I was a psychic.”
“Oh how else are you going to explain your ‘flat tire’ if not as a premonition? You probably googled their home address off some news piece or reporter.”
She summarized his appearance mentally. He was 6 foot tall which made the limp more pronounced than it would have in a shorter man. Apart from the compact-ready face, he had long thinning hair and a straight nose. That was good, because if she was to look at him more than once, the nose need not be an eyesore. The teeth betrayed a smoking habit. He was dressed as if going to the opera, but in a dull shade of ill-fitted grey, with creaseless white shirt apparent underneath. All of it was a size too big for him - he must have lost weight recently. The long lean fingers with spores and bony wrinkled face betrayed a non-muscular frame. This would denote a thoroughly depressed senior citizen if she went by the theory that George up at MEs quoted just that morning after going through some university research. But this Caine character did not look sad. The eyes twinkled in two large frames as if he was in on some private joke of his making. The large mouth did not reflect the sentiment. He had a soft sweet voice that made her suspicious. He looked as if he was at peace with himself, all quiet and gentle and slow. She did not like him, no sir. She had seen quite a few characters like him before. Some had gel in their hair, some were fast-talkers, some had shifty eyes. They came down to the station with one story or another. She never had to humor any of them before.
“Why are you so caked up?”
Her question seemed to puzzle him.
She circled her finger pointing it towards his face. “Man, you have a lot of powder for an octogenarian.”
“Have to give a bit of color to these cheeks,” Caine smiled self-assuringly.
Gay. ‘No wonder he doesn’t bring women,’ she thought. Then ventured as if giving an explanation:
“Josh Logan has a spare parts business. He’s a multi-millionaire with that bottle-blonde trophy capped-teeth wife, who was too busy to get pregnant or stay pregnant the logical way - it would ruin the social calendar for both of them - they ended up having one via surrogate ten years ago, long before it was fashionable to do so. Real trendsetters. Both play the field. The kid saw them as much as he has seen Santa Claus. They did not even realize he was missing till seven hours after lunch when he failed to show up downstairs for the party. Nobody saw him or was even aware of him or what he was up to in those seven hours. And they wait five more hours before reporting it to the police, why? Because they thought they were going to get a ransom ring. Never happened. Why do such people even bother?! They hire a lawyer - for themselves. A PR guy to handle their appearances. Thank God Oprah has no daily anymore! And they had the audacity to throw a 15-minute fame-hungry puppeteer in the precinct! So you are damn right, my people skills are narrow - but only for the very special kinds.”
“Didn’t your boss tell you to be nice to me?”
Aurora was taken aback - Johnson’s office had transparent glass which was the only thing that separated his cubicle from the rest and it was no way near hers - but had no time to dwell on the uneasy feeling. Drama was unfolding at a large corner table where a mother was loudly scolding her little girl. And Jill had just put a round yellow cup in front of her. She had a strong dislike for yellow, lime, lemon, sun, daffodils……..and the flag of New Mexico. She did not know who to give cold looks to first - the irritating man sitting across, the desperado who brought in the cup or the loud crazy bitch at the end of the room. Thoroughly unhappy, she took a sip.
“How is it?” Caine asked as he took out a small bottle from a side pocket and poured the red liquid contents in his tea.
She was disgusted by the sight but did not say anything.
“If your plan is to be courteous for a change, you should fix that expression,” he said without looking up.
She flinched and took another sip. “Are you a dying man? Most hemophiliacs are.”
“Not if they can help it,” he smiled as he gulped down the concoction.
“You are what - 58, 59?”
“Sixty-seven. Too young to die?”
“Death is death. Age has nothing to do with it.” She said matter-of-factly - she was distracted - again. That fat mother was making a mountain of a molehill yet again. “Aren’t you people supposed to get injections or something?”
“Yes. I like this on the side.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“I like the sight of it. Strangely as often as I do bleed, it is life-affirming. Something a woman can understand.”
“Ugh!” She looked around, playing with the knife on the table. “Isn’t it time you ditched the coat. It’s warm as it is, sixty outside. You do not have a funeral to attend do you?”
“I like being covered up.”
“How’s that working for your sex life?” She made a sneer of a smile. “This is such a rowdy place. How long have you been coming here?”
“A week.”
It did not make sense. She had just assumed he frequented the joint. Then she understood his meaning.
“You came here because of him, the guy who kidnapped the boy. How did you -”
He cut her off.
“- No, he just happened to pick a place I like. I have been trying new eateries for a while now. The man who comes here is the ashizukai, at least I believe he is. He’s the roller, the negotiator, his work entails finding clients and making deals with them. I overheard him outside my shop. I don’t just perform with puppets, I sell them too.”
“Good God, you make dolls for a living. Can your life be any sadder?”
“The only person who likes dolls more than children is .......”
He expected her to finish the sentence.
“A parent?”
“Oh no. Parents buy toys because they absolutely must. They have to…….but the pedophiles do it for fun. They get their rocks off that way.”
“It’s a ring.”
“Yes it is. And today is the last day they ever work again.”
She had a gleam in her eyes. The long-necked one wasn’t a waste of time after all. She drank some more of the crap.
Suddenly, there was a loud noise at the end of a corner. She knew what the sound was before she shot a glance that way. The only thing worse than a whining kid was a discouraging low-life parent. And this girl had quite a sucker of a mother. The nubile kid, no more than probably five, was being shaken by the arm over some terrible misdeed as if it were the crime of the century. She sprung from her seat, almost spilling the round cup, and crossed the distance in a rough stride.
“Cut it out.” She said in a menacing low tone.
The mother with shrilly voice did not hear her.
“Hey,” she grabbed the mother’s arm and shrugged it off the child. “I said Cut - It - Out.”
“Who the hell?”
“I’m a cop and when I say I can eat you alive and spit you out in two seconds without anyone in here batting an eye, I am not far wrong. Stop messing with your kid or I will have the owner call up the child services and you will never see her again. Not till you have a rotting jolly time going back and forth the court, giving explanations to complete strangers on how good a pathetic mother such as yourself is, and having psychiatric evaluations and counseling thrown in for good measure. Talk about your childhood much? So save yourself the embarrassment.”
“Who do you think you are?! I have rights.”
Aurora needed to drive home the point to the shrew. She turned to the young couple seated on the next table. “Did you not see this woman thrash her kid to pieces?”
“I did no such thing!” screamed the mother.
The young neighborly woman spoke as if unsure of what to say. “Y-es I did.”
Satisfied with the reply, she turned to the fellow next to her. “And you?”
“She was ferocious.” He agreed wholeheartedly to the lie.
The mother was speechless.
Aurora raised a finger. “They are the witnesses. So be good.”
The mother got up. “You cannot just harass me. Get away from this table.”
Aurora grabbed the woman by the neck. “I did not want to do this in front of your kid, but you leave me no choice.”
She pushed the obese woman to the wall and slapped her silly.
“Do - Not - Hit - Your- Child - Especially - Out - In - Public. Got - That? I did not hear you bitch. Do You Get It?”
The mother winced a reply.
“Nice and Easy.” She took her hands off the woman and let her breathe. “Now if only you had listened the first time none of this would have happened,” she turned and spoke to the scared child. “Your mother was being a bad girl, it’s alright now. Enjoy your lunch.”
“Mommy!” the girl said.
Aurora didn’t hear her. She snatched the purse of the mother, looked at the driver’s license and put it back.
“Now I know your name and address. Don’t make me come looking for you. Be good to your daughter.”
The cafe was silent. Jill stood on one side with an open mouth. The Caine guy was watching her with keen eyes. Presently he got up and counted change. She went over to him.
“We have to go now,” he said.
“What do you mean, we just got here. Don’t worry about that. These things happen.”
“Something tells me they happen to you more often than to others,” he said taking hold of his cane. “He left.”
“B-” she didn’t have time to ask more questions, because Caine was already on the move. She followed him.
“Well, where is he?”
“Drive. I’ll explain.”
Back in the car, he asked for her phone.
“You left yours back there?” She asked.
“No I don’t carry one.”
“No cell? How do you survive in the real world man! What do you need my phone for?”
“You carry a blackberry.”
“So?”
“I have a USB.”
She held the wheel with her left hand and took out the phone with the other.
He was punching buttons. She was starting to doubt his words, he may very well have some wild goose chase mapped out to look convincing.
Finally he spoke. “Are you always this angry?”
“Are you always this evasive? Where is this guy? Who is this guy?”
“Jill was supposed to lure him into accepting a free toy for a late order. He did. I saw it in his hands. That’s when your spectacular outburst happened and you declared yourself to be a cop in front of everyone. And he bolted sooner than I expected.”
“You mean the guy she was trying to hook, was -”
“Yes.”
“And she was doing it because you asked her to. Well he may have just thrown it in a dumpster back there.”
“Relax. I am getting a reading of an object moving right towards the highway.”
“You rigged a toy?”
“I made it.”
“Wait a minute.”
She slowed down the car and curved it to a halt.
“Why did you not tell me this when I could have easily arrested him?”
“What would your probable cause be? I did not have anything to give you to arrest him on.”
“Two punches and he would have squealed like a bird.”
“Do you get most of your confessions this way?”
“Don’t play that game with me. Criminals do not follow law and their lawyers punch holes in the evidence. You have to be as crooked as them to get anywhere.”
“Sheriff Johnson shares this philosophy.”
“He better. I’m the best he’s got!”
“Well can you scold me while driving? We should not lose the trail.”
“What trail? For all I know you are fishing for a book deal and killing time with a cop to make it sale-able to an agent.”
“No one would believe me, Angry Bird.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Unless you want a shiner yourself, Pinocchio, don’t call me that. I do not like hitting handicapped or the elderly. And you are both. So don’t push me.”
She started the engine, checked out the rear, let the truck pass her by and then slid back into traffic.
“What makes you the best?” He asked in that irritating soft voice, eyes fixed on the Berry.
“I nab more people, close more files, the DA gets more convictions on my cases. Everyone goes home happy. Except the bad guy. That’s the important thing. He has to know he got what he deserved. You reap as you sow. Learnt that in the third grade. People go through their whole lives without understanding that basic principle. There are no second chances. This is all you’ve got.”
He took off his coat.
“Aah finally!” She said.
“You were right, it is hot. Plus you have no air conditioning.”
“Broke down a couple days ago. Haven’t had time to get it fixed.”
“You work a lot?”
“I grunt and slouch.”
“Oh I have no doubt you do. I meant in the way of pleasure.”
“I get by.”
“So who was it?”
“Who was what?”
“The one who was not nice to you.”
“Where’s Avishuku?”
“Who?”
“The guy we are tailing, where is he?”
“Ashizukai.”
“That cannot be his real name. I did not see any Asians in there.”
“It’s not. It’s a term we use in puppetry to denote one of three operators. He is the face of the operation, not the mind. The others remain in shadows. His name, or at least what he gave me, is Charlie Coco. He said it was the birthday of his brother’s kid and he wanted to surprise him. He bought one from the Saraband collection. It’s the cheapest but allows greater freedom to name and accessorize and develop an original personality of. Clean-cut three foot tall mannequin. Hopefully he is going straight to the place where Daniel is held.” He looked out the window. “That ought to make his parents very happy.”
“I bet it will. A great photo-op no doubt......How can you feel for such lousy selfish people?”
“I am trained to feel for wooden objects.”
٭ ٭ ٭
