DEATHLY SILENT

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   EXCERPT

Chapter One

“I always knew you’d burn in Hell for what you did to me, but I never dreamed I’d be given the opportunity to help you feel the lick of the flames while you were still alive.”

Erik stood over the well-dressed man, speaking softly, looking intently at the older man’s face almost as though he expected a response, but he knew there would be none.  The man laid on his back in a magnificent, open casket, not moving, expressionless, eyes closed.  He appeared to be dead, and in fact, was dressed for his own funeral.

State Senator Jerry Grant stayed silent, while Erik spoke to him like an old friend.

“Mr. Grant, I want to make sure you catch every word I say.”

His voice was pleasant, although a little biting with sarcasm at times, and he kept his face close to the older man’s ear, whispering secrets that only Grant would hear.

“I know you’re actually still alive, but you’re in such a state that it looks like you’re very dead.  You’re a smart fellow, so you’ve already figured that out.  I’ve been waiting a long time to talk with you like this, because what you did to me ruined my life and it’s taken me fifteen years to finally get my revenge.  I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

Erik’s thoughts raced as he went over the hours and hours of rehearsal for this moment, and his excitement was difficult to contain.  He had planned this discussion for a very long time, and wondered if this was the real thing or just in his mind.  Did he truly have this man from the past right here in front of him at the funeral home?  Erik stared at the man’s face as he touched it to be certain.  This was really happening.

The overhead light cast shadows on the wall and floors as Erik stepped around the casket, and for a second he watched his own shadow move across the sparkling tiles.  It wasn’t easy to recognize that this was a crematorium, but one look at Jerry Grant in his elegant casket near the large furnace gave it away.  The room where the furnace resided was in the back of the funeral home, on the other side of the viewing area, but still connected as part of the same building so Erik was able to roll the cart with Grant’s casket over to the crematorium with no problem.

The door opened on the opposite side of the room, and his co-worker, Keith Ellis, stepped in.  He was a tall man, but very thin, and was dressed in baggy jeans and a flannel shirt.  Keith’s eyes darted from Erik to Grant and back again.

“I wondered where you took him.  Are you teasing the man by showing him where he’ll get to go after the funeral?” and Keith laughed.

Erik faked a laugh because that’s exactly what he had done to add to Grant’s terror, but he didn’t have to respond.

Keith continued, “Let’s get the show on the road.  I just came in to help you get him ready for the funeral and then for the fire.  I don’t want to be here all day.”

Erik nodded, and they set the wheels in motion to get the senator’s casket to the viewing room down the hall where the service would soon begin.

The funeral was respectable, honoring a man that the community believed for many years to be a trustworthy public servant.  Even though the family wanted to keep it private, the viewing room was filled to capacity with mostly relatives and close friends.  Erik studied the people in the room, noticing that most of the faces were solemn, but no tears fell for this politician.

What kind of a husband was this man, and did his wife even know of the senator’s dark side?  Did his children really love him, or was he despised by those who knew him best?  Was he cold and self-centered?

Glancing across the room, Erik noticed his own bearded, weathered face reflected in the ornate mirror on the opposite wall, and wondered if people who trusted him would ask the same things if they knew what he was doing to the former congressman.  As he stared into his own eyes, it almost seemed as though he looked at someone else.  He watched his reflection for another second and then he had to look away.  Realizing that his breathing had become noticeable, Erik forced himself to relax and become more controlled.  Briefly, he sensed a twinge of guilt and suddenly felt like a hypocrite, so he did what he figured anyone else in his shoes would do.  He buried the warnings of his conscience deep within and focused on the funeral. He had to be in complete control of his emotions and couldn’t let anything interfere with his well-thought out plans.

Some of the words spoken in praise of this man angered Erik as he stood in the back of the room listening.  Control the emotions.

“Senator Grant was a model citizen and a selfless public servant.”

Erik gritted his teeth.  He needed to be in control of his emotions.

“Jerry Grant made Stockton a better place to live, and we’re thankful for his years of service to our community.”

Erik tightly closed his eyes and clenched his fists.  This wasn’t easy, but his feelings must be contained.

“He will be missed by his family and friends.”

Erik tried to suppress a cough.

He wanted so much to open their eyes now and let them all know the truth, but he remained patient, relaxing his hands and his jaw, trying to read people’s faces when he re-opened his eyes to look around the room.  He was glad to see his months of planning finally coming to fruition.

Erik realized how fortunate he was to be the employee who prepared the body for today’s viewing.  With a decade of experience, he had been an employee here at the funeral home for almost a year, and he knew everything about body preparation.  Even how to get one of the funeral home guests to his funeral without an embalming.  His manager mentioned last week how impressed he was with the respect Erik provided to those who passed on, so Erik asked if he could work with the former senator’s family on the funeral.  He was pleased to be granted this honor.  Everything fell into place perfectly.  Almost too perfectly.  He hoped he had thought of everything so there would be no surprises.

Erik paced a little bit, stepping quietly on the soft carpet in the back of the room.  He dressed in an average black suit, which looked sharp, although his own outfit was not as splendid as his victim’s attire.  He noticed his co-worker standing across the room, and figured that Keith’s suit was no match for this monster’s expensive shroud either.  Erik held in a chuckle, since it was always interesting to see Keith dressed up.  He hadn’t shaved, his hair was unkempt, and he seemed uncomfortable in a suit and tie.  Erik considered the suit a necessary part of the act, and played the role like a professional.

He admired the many colorful flowers that had been delivered, and took a few minutes to see how they looked from the back of the room as people continued to stroll by the casket up front.  He and Keith had lined them up on each side of the casket, and had discussed earlier how much some of the arrangements must have cost.   As he surveyed the room, he listened to the conversations as several guests walked by him toward the exit door.

“It looks as though Senator Grant could be sleeping,” one of the man’s friends said, and Erik smiled with pride.  Apparently he’d done a good job of faking the man’s death and convincing many that the former senator’s life had indeed already ended.

He desperately wanted to get up now and tell Senator Grant’s family and friends what he knew about the man’s past, how Grant had accepted payoffs from powerful business men who asked the senator to help cover up certain things.  But Erik knew this was not the time or place to expose this man’s deeds.  He would continue to wait a little longer, until the stage was set and everything was just right.  The waiting was painful after coming this far.

When the service ended and the family finally left the funeral home, Erik and Keith removed their formal jackets and carefully lifted Grant from his elaborate funeral casket to the flammable casket, wheeling him back over to the crematorium.  They placed the casket onto the conveyer belt next to the furnace and when they were finished, both Keith and Erik exhaled.

“Politicians always seem so much heavier.  Must be all of that hot air.”

Erik laughed and replied, “Yeah, they’re full of something, aren’t they?”

Keith nodded and said, “I need to go pick up my wife.  All that’s left is to start the flame thrower.  Do you mind if I head out now?”

“Not at all.  Thanks for your help.”

Keith grabbed his jacket and left through the door to the reception area.  As the door slowly closed, Erik glanced back over his shoulder at the former senator in his small, unimpressive box.  Time seemed to stand still at that moment.

“Not so mighty and powerful anymore, eh?”

No response.  An overwhelming silence filled every corner of the room, the same way darkness reaches out to consume every crack and crevice when the light goes out.  He smiled as he considered that his old adversary, usually outspoken, was now deathly silent.

Erik and Senator Grant were alone, giving them time for a final conversation.  Actually, today had been the only time Erik was offered

such a one-on-one opportunity, since the senator never returned his calls or letters, even fifteen years ago.  It was a little one-sided this evening as well, with Grant medicated to the point where he could only listen, but that’s exactly what Erik intended.  He had a captive audience and took full advantage of it.

He eased up to the box and looked at the senator’s face from a different angle, leaning on Grant’s chest and gazing straight at him.  Grant’s greying hair and sideburns framed the many wrinkles that etched his face.

“I don’t remember these deep lines.  I’ll bet they were probably caused by tremendous guilt you felt about your illegal schemes over the years.  You look older than you really are.  I suspect your crimes and fears of getting caught have aged you prematurely.  That gives me some satisfaction.”

Erik straightened Grant’s collar as if he realigned a picture on the wall or fluffed up a flower arrangement.  In fact, Grant was more like a piece of decor in the room now than part of the conversation.

“Do you mind if I call you ‘Jerry’?  Good.  I didn’t think you’d object.  I want you to understand that people will soon find out about your illegal activities while in office, and you’ll finally be disgraced, as you should have been years ago.  Even more important, I want to remind you, Jerry, that the bribes you took affected many innocent people.  The truth has been hidden for a long time, but it’s about to be exposed.”

Erik stepped back from the casket and slammed his fist down onto the table, gritting his teeth with a rage that seemed to come out of nowhere, but promptly controlled his temper and slowed his breathing.  He glanced up at the oil painting on the wall to his left, his eyes reaching into the scene of a cabin on a lake for a few seconds, and then back at Grant, who of course didn’t appear to have noticed the outburst.  The soft lighting in the small beige room provided a relaxing atmosphere with the various paintings of nature scenes on each wall.  Erik, however, didn’t feel relaxed at this moment and dealt with many emotions.

He hated this man and was angry that he got away with his under-the-table payment plan for probably more than twenty years.   He felt relief that this evil man would finally be brought to justice, thanks to Erik’s involvement in the case now, but he also was afraid of what he had become.  He wasn’t a murderer, but what was he going to do in a few minutes with Senator Grant?  He was about to murder this man, even though the rest of the world thought Grant was already dead.  These emotions combined into one tight knot, and it was almost too much for one person to handle.  Erik ran his hand along the sleeve of Grant’s jacket to relax his fingers out of the clenched fist it was in again.

The senator’s fine black pin-striped suit and expensive red silk tie caught his attention, impressing Erik, as he carefully smoothed out any wrinkles along the man’s arms and admired the quality of the cloth.  His hand shook as he struggled to take his mind away from the anger.

He recalled that the tag inside the suit said this was a luxurious Anderson & Sheppard from London’s Saville Row, and suspected it probably cost over $5,000.  He could feel the difference in the material between Grant’s funeral shroud and his own cheap suit.

“What a waste to burn up such a fine piece of material.”

Erik considered the abuses of power that this man had committed during his terms in office, and then shook his head; not out of jealousy for what the man could afford, but out of frustration that this slippery politician had gotten away with such manipulations for so long.  After he found out that Grant had been involved with a payoff in Erik’s case all those years ago, he followed up on the man’s activities and was glad that good citizens had tried to expose his actions several times over the past decade.  People should have been able to see a trend, but everything was quietly swept under a rug with each incident, never to surface again.  Until now.

“Jerry, I hate to tell you this, but I didn’t vote for you.”

Erik laughed at his own comment.

“You see, I have a problem supporting someone I can’t trust, someone who accepts bribes as part of his job.  I just couldn’t live with myself if I had given you my vote, knowing you would betray the good people of our state.  Unfortunately you still won,” Erik said while patting the former senator on the chest, “and you fooled a lot of people for a long time.  I think they’ll be surprised when they find out over the next few weeks about some of the cover-ups you were involved in.”

Erik strolled across the room to the cupboard and picked out a colorful coffee mug, filling it with water while Grant continued to lay motionless.

“I figure you’re probably staring at the back of your own eyelids, panicking because you can’t move, speak, open your eyes, or give any sign of life.  I’ll bet you’re trying to scream and

move your hands, wondering why your heart’s not pounding out of your chest.  The mixture I gave you a couple days ago worked better than I could have ever expected.”

Erik opened a cabinet door about eye-level, and selected a bright yellow package.  He gently closed the cabinet door, and proceeded to heat the mug of water in the microwave while tearing open the package.

“Would you like some herbal tea, senator?  Oh, you probably don’t like tea.  You’d prefer expensive wines.  Isn’t that right?”

Stepping back toward the furnace, Erik made sure Grant was in the proper position, and slowly closed the lid of the flammable casket.  He then bent close to the lid of the box.

“You may already be aware, but I wanted to point out that I just closed your tomb.  If you could open your eyes, you would still see nothing but darkness, much like what you’ve been seeing, but this time it’s a bit more final.  This door has closed for the last time, old man.”

He waited to let that sink in and took a few steps toward the wall to press a large, green button, which started a loud hissing noise from inside the furnace.

“Jerry, I just turned on the incinerator, and I’m watching the temperature gauge climb up to over 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit.  Are you feeling a little warmer yet?  I’ll bet you can’t even sweat now, but you should be so nervous that beads of sweat would cover your face.  I can’t imagine the pain you’re about to feel.  Can you imagine it?”

Erik placed a chair close to the casket, within reach of the controls, and then picked up a newspaper and his cup of tea.  Slowly steeping it, he placed the tea bag in the small trash can and then sat down in the chair.

“Goodbye, Senator Grant.  Consider this your punishment for crimes committed in secret, and realize that they’re about to be made public.  Remember, this is only a taste of what you’ll be feeling in Hell this evening and for all eternity.”

Erik knocked on the casket lid and pushed another button, which opened the door to the furnace and began moving the flammable box along the conveyer belt into the fire.  Intense heat poured out through the open door but Erik casually sipped his tea as if he didn’t notice.  Sweat appeared on Erik’s forehead, but he ignored it.  Within a couple of seconds, the casket was completely inside and the door closed.  A pitiful cry came from within the incinerator as Jerry Grant was finally able to show a sign of life, however briefly, but when the main jet-engine flame ignited, it immediately engulfed the casket along with its contents, silencing this politician forever.

Except for the calming sound of the continuous flames, similar to sitting in front of a fireplace and hearing the fire work its magic on a few logs, it became eerily quiet again while Erik took another sip of the tea and read his newspaper, not even looking up.  He was relieved his manager had installed the sound reduction boxes to minimize the noise of the combustion air fans on the furnace, since this used to be a very loud process in the past.  These new devices made it much more pleasant for those on the outside of the furnace.

“Hmm.  I didn’t expect Grant to be able to make any sounds, even when the flames got to him.  I may need to slightly modify the dosage next time.”