45 Days of Halloween Movies, Books, and Music - Silver Bullet (1985)

After taking a holiday from my two web fiction series - The Fenian Avengers and The Franklin Castle - which are starting back up this week - I am also jumping back into the saddle with a little series I'm calling 45 Days of Halloween Movies, Books, and Music. In this series over the next 45 days, I do a quick summary on thoughts of Halloween themed books, movies, and music that I experience between now and Halloween. Perhaps I will do a quick summary every day, maybe not.

Silver Bullet (1985) – (Television version) – I loved this movie when I was younger. It’s also Stephen King (story and screenplay) and is more adventure story, which fits my style of horror story. I don’t always care for what has become the contemporary horror movie, all gore. I like a sense of fear, but I really like a sense of adventure. We learn quickly that the monster is a werewolf, and see the skinny, awkward limbs associated with the monster pretty early on. If you know Stephen King and the type of person he often has it out for, there should be little surprise as to the identity of the werewolf. This is my first time watching the program in twenty years, and the first time watching with my children. We did go for the sanitized television version that I DVR’d last year.

Ratings:

Me: 3.5

Devin: 4.0

Lexi: 4.5

Ava: too scary, would not finish watching

The Fenian Avenger - Chapter 5b

Table of Contents





Chapter 5b

The Gardaí Serious Crime Squad occupied a corner of the open detective pit. The section consisted of a number of desks and one small office. From inside his office, Superintendent Jimmy Costello leaned back in his chair and surveyed his kingdom. The office chair protested the movement with a series of screeches and pops. The cramped office, just big enough for the scratched metal desk and visitor chair, appeared cluttered. To get to his chair, Jimmy turned sideways and squeezed past the desk. Scattered papers and file folders covered most of the desktop. Buried under desk clutter lay an assortment of items, such as a model of the Eiffel Tower, a lava lamp, a dead plant, and framed pictures of his wife and children. The warped wood-paneled wall resembled Costello’s desk with a mish-mash of items hung or taped, such as a framed photograph of Costello and Gardaí Commission Brian McGuiness, several photographs of famous rugby teams and players, and numerous newspaper articles related to famous cases handled by the Serious Crime Squad.

The warped plastic windows that faced the squad room made distorted everything like a fun house mirror. The department replaced the smashed original glass on the windows several years back after a nasty brawl broke out in the squad room. The stink of the fight arose because it involved not criminals or suspects, but started between three detectives who argued over the World Cup. Today the window reminded Costello of how things went wrong from innocent circumstances. Scratches and dents covered the plastic windows, which now displayed a hazy grey color. Rumors placed Jimmy Costello as the fourth member of the famous brawl. Being the political mastermind, Jimmy managed to purge his name of all involvement. Instead of a reprimand for the brawl, Jimmy Costello ascended to the top of the Serious Crime Squad and straightened up his act. He managed the unit with efficiency and steered the fine line to handle cases in the face of corruption in the greater Gardaí that grew every day.

Costello leaned back in his chair. He squinted as he read the sheet of paper in his hand, his glasses no longer strong enough for his aged eyes. He propped his feet on the desk and exposed a timeworn pair of shoes with holes on the soles. In recent months, he noticed his hair started to show streaks of silver fibers in his once auburn mop. A new goatee adorned his face, much greyer than his hair. Unused to the beard, he often stroked the hair on his chin, too aware of how wicked itchy the beard was. Jimmy Costello’s appearance sent a message he was lax in his job and life overall. The mistake many people made is when they missed the sharp glint in his eye under interrogation. Adversaries who made this error found themselves in trouble. Those who knew Jimmy Costello knew of his razor sharp mind. He commanded the respect of the squad and his peers for as a nimble politician who did not compromise his soul in the process.

Liam Malone slipped into Costello’s office and mumbled the obligatory “sorry” for no reason as he sat in the visitor chair. The newest detective in the Serious Crime Squad, Liam Malone caught Jimmy’s attention while at the Academy. Liam continued to impress after graduation with stellar performance in his first year as a Garda uniformed patrol officer. He added to his CV when he worked undercover in drug and crime cases, and excelled as his work dismantled of one of the most violent gangs in Dublin. He adapted to his new life as a married man, he wished to spend time with his young wife and son. Liam sat for the Inspector’s exam, which qualified him for the Interview Boards.

He skipped the rank of Sergeant, a supervisory level in the uniformed Gardaí. Liam spent his compulsory one-year stint on the OCU (Organized Crime Unit), and applied for a position in the Flying Squad, which dealt with armed robbery, and spent two years the unit. A patient man, Jimmy monitored the career progression of the young star on the rise. He took Liam to the club often. When Liam racked up enough service time under his belt, Jimmy invited him to join the Serious Crime Squad.

Once under Jimmy’s wing, Liam did not disappoint with his work in the SCS. Liam approached every case with enthusiasm. Jimmy loved his attitude and honesty.

However, honesty led to a problem in the Gardaí climate.

Back in the Stone Age, young Garda Jimmy Costello noticed a disturbing trend in its infancy. Any organization dealt with a certain amount of corruption along the fringes, a given when wealthy criminals, low-paid law enforcement, and ambitious bureaucrats come together in the same brew. This trend, however, became more prevalent with each passing year of the country’s depression. Today, an officer not on the take was uncommon. Crime, business, and politics infiltrated the Gardaí. In Jimmy’s opinion, the Gardaí was no longer on the up and up and corruption no longer the exception but the norm. Many corporations expanded into organized crime, as sin took the lead as the only profitable business left in Ireland. These corporations found if they influenced decisions at Phoenix Park, their ride smoothed. The days when the Gardaí valued an honest detective were over. Reprimands slapped the wrist for those exceptional detectives who arrested the wrong criminals. An honest detective was a liability.

Jimmy’s distasteful duty on this day consisted of reining in his finest young detective. This job tested Jimmy’s skills with people. He did not want to break Liam’s spirit. Deep down, Jimmy respected an honest Garda, although the politics made it no longer prudent to advertise the fact.

Jimmy returned his attention to the piece of paper in his hand. He re-read the header, an interoffice memo from Brian McGuiness, the Garda Dublin Metropolitan Assistant Commissioner and the Big Cheese in Dublin. The memo addressed one of Liam’s cases that investigated an efficient and organized loan shark operation. Liam deftly worked his way up the hierarchy of the organization and, not only identified the boss, but also the corporate connections. The mistake Liam made no secret as to the identity of the corporate executive involved.

There lay the first plank in Liam Malone’s coffin.

The young detective sat across the desk from Jimmy. He looked so eager and naïve. In his eyes, he showed no realization of the circumstances he found himself. Liam became a dangerous man to the Gardaí establishment. The boyish hair, the gleam of his blue eyes, and the near skip in his step betrayed a juvenile nature in Liam Malone. Jimmy Costello knew Liam would not take the request to step down from this case well.

“Let’s talk about your loan-shark,” Jimmy offered, unable to look his detective in the eye.

“Yeah, sir, funny you should bring that up, I wanted to talk to about this,” Liam said and opened his file folder on the desk. “I’m not certain just how to proceed. Sorry I haven’t come to you sooner. I thought I had the case in hand, but now I’m a little over my head. I’ve found the boss, but he has ties to KOD.”

Jimmy sighed. He dreaded this task. So much energy and talent, and no idea what he walked into.

As the largest corporation in Ireland, KOD, Inc. Founder Kieran O’Dowd acted as both Chairman of the Board and CEO. O’Dowd, as ruthless as he was charismatic, ruled business in Ireland with a quirky media personality and sense of humor. KOD had a hand in so many industries and ventures in Ireland and Europe that a conversation about what the conglomerate did not touch proved easier.

In addition, it was an unwritten rule not to touch anything associated with KOD or Kieran O’Dowd. Liam did not know this yet.

“Liam, I’m sorry to tell you this, now,” Jimmy said. He sat up and smoothed his hands on the rough surface of his desk. “Kieran O’Dowd is a generous benefactor of the Gardaí, and a critical individual to Ireland. KOD carries the Irish economy on its own. We exercise caution in how we use his name and his company’s name in conjunction with any alleged crime.”

“Sorry, sir, I understand he is well-respected,” Liam said. “And that is why I’ve come to you first about this.”

“Fabulous work, Liam. You are heads and shoulders above any of other inspector in the department. This lesson should come in time, but we don’t have that luxury. As detectives in the Gardaí, we need wisdom on how far to push a case. You were right to alert me, but it should have been much sooner, lad, and been quieter about the task. You need to understand the people to not mess with. Now, I’m sorry to be telling you this, but it’s for your own good.”

“Are you’re saying I should back off because of Kieran O’Dowd?” Liam asked. “If he’s involved in a crime, doesn’t he need to investigate and punish him? Or even if he’s wrongly connected, we need to investigate so we can clear him. Or least we need to advise him to choose his allies better or stop people who leached off of him.”

“Lad, I understand the desire to save people and bring the wicked to justice,” Jimmy said. “As inspectors, we use discretion and wisdom. You can no longer work like a beat Garda. Remember what Assistant Commissioner McGuiness said just a few weeks ago at our luncheon? If we enforced every health code, there wouldn’t be a restaurant in all Dublin still open. Well, the same goes here. Kieran is a public figure, and he takes a lot of criticism and is under a great deal of pressure as a visionary person. However, what he does is critical to the country and we have to be careful of what we do with information. We live in times when our country needs the top employer to put as many Irish to work as possible and continue to fulfill the vision to make Ireland a better country. What is more beneficial to Ireland? Is it Kieran in jail or in court over what someone in his organization may have done without his knowledge, or would we rather have KOD move full-force to advance Ireland? It is not about liking or disliking Kieran, which is not our job. Sometimes we have to help and protect loathsome people if they help the greater good. We must trust the bigger picture beyond what we can see from our positions.”

“This is nothing personal against Kieran or KOD,” Liam protested.

“Good, you’ve learned another lesson about detective work: Be impartial,” Jimmy said. “Let’s run this up and see what action they want us to take.”

“Sir, I’m going to proceed with this in the way you think best, please understand,” Liam stated. “I just would like to know, for the sake of my wisdom and how I should handle myself in the future. Is the Gardaí under the control of Kieran O’Dowd and KOD? I see their executives in here all the time, I hear references to agreements made with them, and Kieran often speaks at and attends our meetings. But, I also see crime bosses roam the street unrestricted and that drives me crazy. Now I have found a link between the two, which disturbs me.”

Jimmy Costello raised his voice and his eyes narrowed into slits. “Son, I am not on the payroll of KOD and I don’t take orders from them, nor am I in the pocket of organized crime,” Jimmy stood up and his metal chair hit the wall. “I can’t attest for all the Gardaí. I am simply giving advice to help your Gardaí career.”

“Yes, sir, I apologize if I said anything to offend you,” Liam said.

Jimmy snorted a quick breath and stretched his neck. When he spoke again, his voice softened. “I would be disappointed if you did not ask these questions and many men here in this department would not have asked such questions,” Jimmy said. He inhaled a breath and sat down. “Tell me, now. Does what I have just said sour you on the Gardaí?”

“Sir, I would be lying if I told you the idea of looking the other way while someone commits a crime isn’t distasteful,” Liam said. “But, I trust enough to believe you are looking out for my best interest.”

A pang of guilt hit Jimmy as he lied to his detective. “My bosses will react less benignly than I, so I would suggest you forget any information that connects Kieran,” Jimmy said. “I will tell them you came to me with this information and asked for advice, which you have, and that will make them happy.”

“And the gang boss I have in custody downstairs?”

Jimmy looked down at his desk. He spoke with pain in his voice. “Release him.”

Liam sunk in his chair. He appeared to deflate at the statement.

“Sorry, son, I know how you feel,” Jimmy said. “Each day gets harder to stomach, but this is of vital importance to your career. Don’t get too upset about the thug downstairs. Someone else will let him out if you don’t.”

“He’s just so arrogant,” Liam said. He stood up, opened the door, and shook his head. “Apparently, he has reason. He has more pull here than either you or I.”

Liam looked like a puppy with his tail between his legs as he left the office. Jimmy knew Liam was immature to assume no corruption in the Gardaí existed. Jimmy imagined how the lad must feel when his boss requested he turn his back on the people he wanted to help.

The boy would take the edict in one of two ways. He would accept the decision or fight the decision.

Deep down, Jimmy knew Liam Malone would not ignore his conscious for long.

Jimmy Costello knew he had to plan on how to protect his prodigy.


Go to Chapter 6
Go back to Chapter 5a
Table of Contents

The Franklin Castle - Chapter 9b

Table of Contents
Floor Plan





Chapter 9b

I could spend hours discussing the many rumors. Most ridiculous, some true. I heard a rumor how Hannes tortured and hanged a servant in a secret room. Authorities never found a body. A convenient story and without proof and over a hundred years old, that is hard to resist.
Coincidentally, documented accounts of missing children in the late 1800’s began to pop up in this section of Cleveland. I found no evidence to connect Hannes to any of these disappearances. Nevertheless, the point pauses for notice. These stories, passed down over the years, fuel the urban legends.

In 1895, Luise died. The official cause of death listed as liver failure. I have no reason to dispute this fact. After all, the premature death of so many of her children cannot be a positive impact on one’s health. They held Luise’s funeral in this parlor, right where we now sit. The coffin sat in front of the fireplace.

Creepy, right?

People continued to point a suspicious finger at Hannes. Too many deaths in the house and far too little accountability make the conjecture less ridiculous. Even if the incidents did not involve foul play, the people in this neighborhood did not welcome this sort of bad juju. Remember these were the blue bloods of Northeast Ohio.

Many stories suggested Hannes killed his wife, children, and even some of the servants in the house. I heard a story how a housekeeper attempted to steal jewelry, and Hannes strangled the servant and hid her body in a secret room somewhere in the house.

But, no one knows. Indentured help in those days disappeared often and went unnoticed.

A solitary man, Hannes ran Euclid Avenue Savings and Trust from his home. Even in the early days of the bank, he spent little time at the office. He managed the bank from a distance. After he moved into the Franklin Castle, his visits to the office became so rare, soon all his management of the business happened in writing and by courier.

Not long after Luise’s death, Hannes sold the house and moved into an even larger home on Lake Road. He lived in the house for 33 years, and some say he came back here to live after he passed on. After he left the home, he married a servant from the Franklin Castle. This raised several eyebrows in the community. The standard practice for a man in mourning was to wait a certain amount of time before courtship. Moreover, he fraternized with a common servant. How shameful.

Hannes had no family, his siblings, wife, and children all died. When he left the castle, there were not any close friends with whom to keep in touch. His managers at the bank never saw him as his involvement in the bank dropped dramatically when he moved into the house on Franklin Boulevard. Even his neighbors on Franklin Boulevard saw him so seldom, they would not recognize him if they passed him on the street.

Hannes died in 1908. The stories of Hannes’ atrocities did not end with his death. In fact, the stories increased in scope. The Cleveland Plain Dealer reported Hannes killed his own niece in a secret room under the house. This room served as a torture chamber. Supposedly, Hannes killed his insane niece in the room to avoid shame to the family.
Now, legend suggests Hannes returned to the Franklin Castle after he died.

Not many people know this, but when Hannes was a young man, he suffered an accident and doctors removed one leg at the knee. Hannes wore a false leg made of metal. The leg made a horrible hollow sound when he walked, and forced him to walk with a distinctive limp. There are documented accounts through the years of people who heard the sound of a hollow limp move up and down the main hallway, and then something pounded on the door. The story evolved to suggest he walked up and down the hall every night and looked for more children to kill. Many parents used the story of old Hannes to coax their children into bed.

Hannes sold the house to a family named Mullhauser. I found very little information regarding the Mullhauser’s stay in the Franklin Castle. We know in 1913, the Mullhauser’s sold the house to the American Socialist Party. According to all records, no one lived-in the house over the next fifty-five years they owned the house. The Socialists only used the house for parties, rallies, and meetings.

The minimal amount of information regarding this period is unfortunate. Officially, the American Socialist Party affiliated with their Bolshevik cousins in Russia. During this period in our history, Socialism was relatively unknown here. The group purchased the house four years before the Bolshevik Revolution, which saw the advent of the Soviet Union and communism in Russia. However, in this state of anonymity and ignorance by the American public, the organization began to flourish. Prior to World War I, the ASP elected two party members to Congress. The year before the ASP purchased the house, their presidential candidate even received over a million votes. However, the group’s ideology proved a mixed set. They differed from their cousins in Russia, and caused the party’s political agenda to split in a myriad of directions. In 1919, a rift formed in the organization and many of the Bolshevik supporters left to form their own group.

As the ASP weakened in the years before World War II, their ideology continued to shift and they adopted an identity of a similar new organization in another country. This new cousin organization: the Nazi Party in Germany.

Conjecture has it the American Socialist Party became domestic Nazi spies before and throughout the Second World War. As with anything connected with the Nazi’s, we love nasty rumors of bad things, the eternal bad guys, blamed for nearly every twentieth century malady.

I uncovered some chatter in old FBI documents about an execution of twenty people in the basement of the Franklin Castle. A lot of talk, however, no bodies or secret rooms corroborated this story.

Officially, the house remained empty all through that span of years. With a little research on my part, I found some evidence that suggested someone otherwise.

In the 1930’s, the Florence Nightingale Agency, a company that provided home care nurses, assigned a nurse to visit the castle three times a day to care for an aging attorney. The nurse made statements in a separate court deposition twenty years later regarding her employment at the house. After four months, she refused to set foot in the house again. In her words, the old man was evil as well as the people associated with the house. She heard the sounds of a child crying in the house. The deposition said nothing about ghosts, instead she feared terrible things current occurred to children in the house, and that is why she left.
Go to Chapter 9c
Return to Chapter 9a
Table of Contents

The Fenian Avenger - Chapter 5a

Table of Contents

Chapter 5a

April - 18 years ago

Liam Malone took a swift step to the side as a uniformed officer struggled with a man in handcuffs. The prisoner knocked the hat off the officer’s head and it rolled across the hallway. The officer scooted across the hall, with the detainee pulled beside him, and picked up the standard dark blue Garda hat. The itchy cap, made of wool, displayed a brass badge with a light blue circle surrounded by gold and dark blue, outlined with alternate circles and fleur-de-lies. The remainder of the Garda uniform consisted of the familiar powder blue dress shirt, emblazoned with dark blue shoulder emblems, finished with a dark blue tie, a nameplate over the right pocket, and pleated blue trousers.

Liam flattened against the wall. Unable to avoid the handcuffed man’s momentum, Liam crumpled to the ground as the criminal bumped him in the groin. Liam let out a muffled grunt at the impact and pushed the prisoner aside.

“Sorry, sir, Detective,” the uniformed Garda said as he replaced his hat on his head.

“No worries,” Liam said and forced a smile. “You have yourself a wild one there, don’t ya?”
The officer shrugged. “Sorry, I’ll give him a whack in the jewels in a bit as payback. Sorry.”

Liam smiled as he brushed back a stringy shock of light brown hair across his head with his hand. He felt the word “sorry” was the most overused word in the Irish vocabulary and became almost reflexive in casual conversation, as the phrase started a good number of conversations where an apology was not necessary. As the term was such a norm in conversation, when conditions required a true apology, you practically needed to offer indentured servitude to make the applicable repentance.

On a normal day, foot traffic in these halls resembled a poorly engineered congested Paris intersection. With everyone in a hurry, usually only the rude and pushy survived, of course the rude and pushy softened their actions with numerous instances of spontaneous “Sorry’s” to make amends. Any attempt at conversation degraded in rapid time into shouts in order to rise above the din.

These halls were not for the meek. These were the halls of the headquarters of the Garda Síochána na hÉireann, in Gaelic meaning Guardians of the Peace of Ireland. The Garda, or Gardaí for plural, were the Irish law enforcement organization, similar to local police in the United States or Great Britain, or the Mounted Police in Canada The public usually just called the organization as a whole the Gardaí (pronounced Gar-a-die) and individual officers as a Garda (pronounced Gar-a-dee, Gar-a-day, or Gar-a-da depending on what dialect they spoke).

While not as large as their cousins in New York City or London, the Garda Force Region of the Dublin Metropolitan headquarters was the largest Gardaí region in all of Ireland. The force covered nearly as many crimes and cases as all the other Irish regions in total. A trend not likely to decrease in the coming years with indications the depression Ireland experienced showed no sign of alleviating.

Garda headquarters lay nestled in an out of the way northeastern corner of Phoenix Park. A large metropolitan park, Phoenix Park sprawled across the western side of Dublin, and was Europe’s largest urban park. The city populated the commons with Fallow Deer, who grazed within the walled confines. The government scattered monuments to its most prominent historic citizens along the grounds. The residences of the President of Ireland and the United States Ambassador to Ireland lay within the confines of the grounds. Strewn across the park were football fields, rugby patches, picnic areas, concert areas, and untouched wooded areas.

As funds dried up in city coffers, the ability to upkeep such a large park became difficult. A result of the cutbacks saw the wooded areas grow in size, become overgrown, and become no longer traversable. A new sub-culture called “Parkers” emerged. Outlaws and homeless thieves who lived in the urban woods and preyed upon visitors, Parkers touted themselves as modern day Robin Hood and the Merry Men living in Dublin’s version of Sherwood Forest. Gardaí pointed out the concept of stealing from the rich and giving to the poor as questionable in this case, since they gave no stolen money to the poor, unless you considered the Parkers were actually the “poor” in the scenario.

The Garda Force headquarters took a back seat to its neighbor, the Dublin Zoo, at the intersection of North and Zoo Roads, much to the appreciation of Gardaí. Over the years, the confines of the zoo provided Garda officers a way to conduct anonymous meetings with informants and other individuals away from the formality of headquarters. Garda personnel enter the zoo free as a benefit, which also includes access after public hours. Dublin Zoo administrators instigated this benefit to encourage Gardaí to become visible in the zoo. They trusted the added presence operated as an addendum to the existing security force. Phoenix Park was no different from the rest of Dublin and mired in crime and gang activity.

The Gardaí formed in 1922 when the Republic of Ireland gained independence from Britain. With law enforcement in Ireland fractured into many units at the time, Gardaí became a centralized presence and replaced the Royal Irish Constabulary, a division of the British police, and the Irish Republican Police, which operated regionally from 1919 through 1922. Originally called the Civic Guard, the Garda Síochána Act of 1923 renamed the organization as the Garda Síochána na hÉireann, and eventually merged with the Dublin Metropolitan Police, to form a single law enforcement body for Ireland.

Gardaí consisted of six Regions across Ireland: Eastern, Northern, Western, Southern, Southeastern, and the Dublin Metropolitan. An Assistant Commissioner ran each Region, and reported to a panel of three Deputy Commissioners, who worked for an overall Commissioner. Within the Dublin Metropolitan, the city divided into six districts: North, South, East, West, North Central, and South Central.

Always an issue with every large police force, corruption especially dogged Gardaí. During the days of the recent depression, Gardaí garnered a reputation of corruption at every level. From images and video on the RTÈ of uniformed Gardaí shaking down citizens for money, to stories of the majority of the force paid by outside interests, most citizens view Gardaí as the last people to call if you were in trouble. With the amount of corruption rampant, the fact Gardaí telephone number contained the numbers 666 amused Liam Malone.

 

Go to Chapter 5b
Go Back to Chapter 4
Table of Contents

The Franklin Castle - Chapter 9a

Table of Contents
Floor Plan

Chapter 9a

Terry spoke in a steady voice.

They called this the Franklin Castle. By far the largest home on Franklin Boulevard when finished in 1864, the residence looked like a gothic castle. Residents of Cleveland referred to this neighborhood as Millionaire’s Row. Hannes Tiedemann and his wife Luise designed their dream home based on a twisted vision.

Hannes and Luise emigrated from Germany. A hard working but feared tyrant, Hannes worked his way up and became a millionaire. Back then, a million dollars was Bill Gates-type of money, so this achievement carried with it power. As his wealth increased, he lost whatever values and humility he once possessed. He did anything he wanted because of the resources at his disposal. Hannes built his fortune as the owner of a grocery store and liquor store, the business venture turned into a chain. After he acquired his initial wealth, he changed his business model and founded The Euclid Avenue Savings and Trust Company. From there, his wealth increased at an exponential manner. This mansion served as the exclamation point of Hannes’ success in life. He was, in his own mind, master of the universe and could do no wrong.

Hannes built the Franklin Castle during the great industrial boom in Cleveland, and the distinction as one of the first homes on Franklin Boulevard. The choice of architecture firm to design and build the home seemed odd. This architect had little experience in building homes and they specialized in bridges and industrial structures. Luise handed the architects the specifications and they designed the monstrosity. The result was a truly unique home, perhaps the most notable home in the neighborhood. In the latter part of the nineteenth century, the standard design was a large boxy home. The Franklin Castle has a unique front façade. This house features turrets and carved stonework. And no gothic mansion is complete without stone gargoyles.

The Franklin Castle consists of forty-eight rooms, more or less. The number depends on what you consider a room. The house includes a large two-story ballroom addition on the west side of the house added in the 1880’s, stained glass windows, and fresco paintings on the walls and ceilings. The grounds include a large carriage house on the back of the property, which can hold four cars, as well as a fully furnished apartment on the second floor, which added another six rooms to the estate. Archer Ryan lives in the carriage house, and not in the main house.

The original owners, the Tiedemann family, consisted of Hannes and Luisa, his mother Wiebeka, and least six children, though the number is possibly larger. A full service staff lived in the house, their residents in the basement.

To this point in the story, these are the only public facts known about Hannes Tiedemann. At this point, the urban legends kick in. I can’t say how much of any of these are true. Most legends are based on some granular of truth, but who can say what. What I heard paints Hannes as a hated tyrant with his family and employees, a strict and cruel man with a fierce temper.

And according to legend, a murderer.

However, this is just speculation, at this point.

In 1881, misfortune struck the family. Hannes’ mother Wiebeka and his fifteen-year-old daughter Emma died within weeks of each other. The coroner’s report lists Wiebeka’s death as heart failure and Emma’s as diabetes. Speculation has the cause of death much more sinister.

I’ve read the official reports on the two deaths and details are sketchy, even by the standards of the late 1800’s. However, hindsight is perfect, and who am I to dispute a report over one hundred years old?

Questions arose about the fate of three other children, all of whom died in 1883. No death certificates or hospital records exist regarding the three. In statements Hannes made, he claimed the children died of ailments. Of course, interviews with neighbors suggest something more.

All quite strange.

But, not enough evidence for the police to step in.

After these deaths, a distraught Luise began to exhibit strange behavior in the house. The rumors suggest Luise went a little mad. I found records she spent time institutionalized at Fallsview psychiatric hospital. She worked on the house during the final years of her life, she changed many features. She hired a firm to add many special features. At this time, they installed secret passages, trapdoors, hidden rooms, and tunnels.

Such a nice little gothic mansion.

Go to Chapter 9b
Return to Chapter 8
Table of Contents

The Fenian Avenger - Chapter 4

Table of Contents





 
Chapter 4









October 25



Letter to the Shareholders of KOD, Inc.

From the Desk of Kieran O’Dowd

Chairman of the Board and CEO of KOD, Inc.



My Dear Shareholders,

I find myself in a dilemma. I worked hard to build and nurture KOD, Inc. from a foundling idea to the power we wield today. While KOD has flourished over the last seventeen years and taken our shareholders to great levels of wealth, I am saddened our Mother Ireland has not experienced the same level of success. Indeed, Ireland has suffered during the same parallel stretch. The depression in Ireland has lasted far longer than anyone ever expected. The skeletal hand of winter will not release grip on our once proud country and the snow clouds prevent the sun from shining on our emerald shores once again.

I am officially announcing our primary goal and priority at KOD will be the advancement and recovery of our once proud Ireland.

I pronounce that this depression will end within my tenure as CEO of KOD, and this company will lead in the effort to make this so. The people of Ireland will rise from the low state they find themselves in, and will no longer have to be the cute country with happy dancing people in green costumes who beg for the foreign dollars in our economic tin cups.

Ongoing projects at KOD have the potential to help the people of Ireland both now and in the future. These projects will make us stronger and bring us closer to being the great people we should be. Look to some of the top countries in the world, such as Britain, Australia, Canada, and the United States, let alone advancing countries in South America and Eastern Europe, and we will find people of Irish heritage who drive these advancements.

I do not believe this a coincidence, not for a moment.

Time is now to bring the power of our heritage home to Ireland.

I once read a book entitled How the Irish Saved Civilization by Thomas Cahill. This book discussed the concept in the written history, the world as ignored the contributions of the Irish people. Consider what Irish people and people of Irish heritage have offered the world. Look in the areas of artistic, spiritual, economic, scientific, historical, political, and spiritual influence and the Irish will are present. The world would not be as enlightened if not for the Irish people who have left these emerald shores to guide the accomplishments of other fledgling countries. We need to make the call of Ireland reach the ears of those people to come back and help their Mother.

Moreover, the Irish people who have remained true to Ireland and not left these green shores must begin the healing. Your country needs help in many ways: monetarily, spiritually, and emotionally. We need leadership. And we need soldiers.

With my leadership and monetary gifts, I choose to give back to our Mother.

To realize this dream, it may require the sacrifice of KOD profits. How could we not want to sacrifice to live in a country where our children can grow up with a better life?

Finally, I am reluctant to bring this topic up, but many are concerned about controversial rumors regarding KOD. A certain vigilante activist, who calls himself the Fenian Avenger, is the source of recent false accusations and bad publicity towards our company. Everything this alleged “hero” claims is a lie. We can only refer to this Fenian Avenger as a criminal, and not only by me, but by our respected Gardaí. This criminal cowardly broke into KOD headquarters in an attempt to steal information to implicate KOD as the scapegoat for all of Ireland’s problems. Do not allow this false Irish hero fool you. Leave the crime fighting to the real heroes of the Garda Síochána na hÉireann. This criminal assaults Gardaí officers, injuring them and worse. Would a real hero stoop to this level against Irish citizens whose sole purpose is to protect and serve the citizens of Dublin and Ireland? No, a hero would not act in this manner. No real hero would conceal his identify with a mask and run from authorities with questions about his activities. Only a person with something to hide handles himself in this way.

We at KOD will no longer stand for the actions of this criminal. KOD is donating money to the Gardaí for the sole purpose to destroy this false hero.

Eireann Go Brach,

Kieran O’Dowd


Go to Chapter 5a
Go Back to Chapter 3

Table of Contents

The Franklin Castle - Chapter 8

Table of Contents
Floor Plan 

Chapter 8

The fire popped as it fired a spark that landed on the sofa. Keith dropped his Orson Scott Card book on the ottoman to extinguish the red ember to his right. Ashley turned off her Kindle and stood up. She walked to the fireplace and closed the gate.

Terry strode into the room and dropped his computer bag next to love seat. He walked towards Keith and Ashley and sat on the cushioned footrest next to their feet.

“I met Keith earlier, but I didn’t catch your name,” Terry said. He offered his hand to Ashley.

Ashley looked at him with a furrowed brow. “Me?”

“I noticed Dr. Fran failed to introduce you,” Terry said.

“My name is Ashley,” she said and shook his hand.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said.

Terry stood up from the ottoman and backed into the love seat. He propped his feet up and crossed his hands behind his neck. “I guess I have one thing going for me this afternoon,” Terry said. “It appears the members of your parent’s team dislike the members of PRETA much more than they dislike me.”

Keith and Ashley giggled.

“You’re not giving yourself enough credit,” Ashley smiled. “You tripped them up with their own theories. PRETA isn’t capable of doing that. No, I think Dr. Fran and his team dislike you much more right now because they are afraid of you. So, don’t feel so bad.”

“I think they are planning to get even,” Keith said.
“Well, thank you,” Terry said. “I appreciate that. You know, I don’t feel like I’ve been successful unless I manage to tick off everyone I possibly can in the process.”

“Then you’re off to a good start,” Keith laughed.

The laughing ceased abruptly as Ashley’s father, Dr. Dunbar, strolled into the room. Dunbar read from his journal while he walked and did not acknowledge the others in the room. Dr. Dunbar knelt down and removed a book from his leather satchel on the coffee table.

“How’s it going, Dad?” Ashley asked.

Her father continued to read.

“Dad,” Ashley said louder. She shifted to the edge of the sofa and stiffened.

His head jerked up from his text. He looked at Ashley with little expression on his face.

“What?” He asked.

“I asked how it was going,” she said.

“Oh, fine,” he said, He returned his gaze to his book as he finished the response.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked.

He held up a finger and continued to read. When he turned the page, his eyes raised to look at Ashley. He looked at his daughter, his face revealed that he had not listened to his daughter. “No, nothing. Just have a good time,” he said and left the room without a look back at her.

Ashley sighed. She turned her gaze back to Terry. He looked at her and rubbed his chin.

“Are you all right,” he asked.
“Yeah, fine,” she said.

“Is he always like this?”

Ashley leaned back in the sofa. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “You might as well know,” she said. “When he’s working he acts this way towards me. This is pretty much how he acts all the time.”

“He made nice before in the driveway,” Terry said.

“Yeah, he wasn’t working yet,” she said. “Soon as he starts, I don’t exist.”

“Most unfortunate,” Terry said. “Are you involved in all this? Or are you just along for the ride?”

“We don’t have anything to do except sit around,” Keith said.

“Everyone else gets to participate,” Ashley said. “They take notes every fifteen minutes, whether anything happens or not. I tried to do one last time on my own, and gave them my notebook at the end. Dr. Fran didn’t care and left the notebook on the table when they left.”

“I haven’t spent much time with Dr. Rogers, so I’m not certain what I’m supposed to write down if nothing happens,” Terry said. “Good thing he gave me permission to do my own investigation.”

“First, don’t call him Dr. Rogers. You have to call him Dr. Fran. He gets really irritated if you don’t.”

“We’ve pretty much established I’m going to irritate him no matter what,” Terry said. “So, I think I’ll stick with Dr. Rogers.”

Keith and Ashley laughed.

“As for the notes, if nothing happens, you’re supposed to write down nothing happened,” Ashley said. She leaned forward in her seat. “But, Dr. Fran wants you to write down any sounds you hear. For example, you may write down that during a fifteen-minute period you heard a pounding on the floor above you. Now, if one of the other people wrote they stomped on the second floor during the same period, Dr. Fran can put two and two together and rule out the sound.”

“Pretty clever. However, it’s not going to work or produce anything. It seems the whole concept behind how they investigate slants to discount instead of discovering,” Terry said. “The PRETA people have a better chance than Dr. Fran. They’re at least excited about what they’re doing. However, in a way they are just as bad as Dr. Fran, just the other extreme. Will Dr. Fran ever relay the story behind this house to everyone?”

“Usually, the group doesn’t know anything about the place until after the experiment,” she said. “He says they won’t be expecting to see something.”

“It’s kind of like investigating a murder when you’re not sure if there’s been a murder,” Terry said. “And what about you? Do you subscribe to this theory?”

“Keith and I are not really a part of this,” Ashley said. “We just come with our parents. As long as we don’t make any problem and keep our thoughts to ourselves, we can do anything we want. We’re not good enough to help.”

“Too bad,” Terry said.

“Why?” Keith asked.

Terry leaned forward. “I’ve found younger people to be the best detectives. They are observant, but not egotistical enough to let what they think they know get in the way of what they really see.”

“What do you mean?” Ashley asked.

“I’m not saying you don’t know anything. I am saying your mindset assumes you have to learn everything. You don’t have degrees on your wall to give you an excuse to think you know everything. You observe and take things in because you want to learn more, and you don't have the preconceived notion you know everything. Even though you’ll argue you do, deep inside, you know you don’t. That is why your outlook is objective.”

Norma strolled into the room, her large flowered dress swayed back and forth. She walked with her hands behind her back, as if on a walk in the park. She wandered the perimeter of the parlor and sniffed the air.

“Norma, this is going to sound like a stupid question,” Terry said. “But, what exactly are you doing?”

She turned to Terry and walked to him. She knelt beside his chair, held his hand in hers, and studied him in silence.

“You are sincere,” she said. A broad smile developed on her face. “Too many people view my kind as a joke. You actually seem to respect me.” Terry nodded his head. Norma continued. “I’m walking through each of the rooms in the house and taking a perception.”

“A perception?” Terry asked.

She stroked his hand with affectionate. “I’m sorry, I’m talking in lingo. I’m allowing my senses to take in each of the rooms. I gain a good deal of information by my sense of smell and I feel air and particles touch my skin. By smelling the room, I can feel emotions. I can feel movement in the air against my skin.”

“You can smell emotions?” Terry asked.

“Yes, anyone can.”

“Another stupid question coming, what do they smell like?”

“Difficult to say, since we do not have common experiences,” Norma said. She hummed as she thought of her next words. “Hatred and anger have a bitter smell to me, though you might not even notice a difference.”

“Okay,” Terry said.

“It’s hard to explain,” Norma said. She stood up. “I would love to talk to you more about this, young man. But, I need to get back to work. Maybe Ashley can explain better. She’s psychic, as well. She just hasn’t broken through yet.”

Norma sashayed down the hall and walked through the kitchen door.

Terry smiled at Ashley. “Did you know you’re psychic?”

“That’s what she tells me,” Ashley said. Her cheeks colored red. “Don’t hold it against me. I don’t know how you feel about psychics, and I don’t want to set myself up to be grilled by you like you did to them.”

Terry laughed. “I would never do that to you. Does any of what she says make sense to you?” Terry asked.

“A little bit,” Ashley said. “What you said before to the group makes a lot of sense to me. I picture thoughts as if they float in the air and I seem to be able to understand them and hear them. It seems to be different for a lot of us. For John, it’s easy for him to read thoughts. He says things just pop into his head as if he is listening to someone in the room. With Norma, she has to feel the spirit. She doesn’t hear thoughts as easily, she feels the emotion in the air and really has to try.”

“So, it’s kind of like one person is good at basketball and another is good at baseball,” Terry said. “They’re both athletes, but gifted in different ways.”

“That’s a good way of explaining it,” Keith said.

“It is,” Ashley said. She raised her finger in the air. “Okay, John specializes in active thought. I mean he can listen to thoughts in the air.”

“While it’s still fresh and hasn’t lost any form,” Terry said. “After it gets stale, he can no longer sense it? He doesn’t receive historical thoughts, right?”

“Right,” Ashley said. “Norma perceives something different. She can sense a presence better than John can, but has to make an effort, but can sense old thoughts.”

“Which is why she has to operate in a different manner,” Terry said.

“What do you mean?” Keith asked.

“Let’s just say she can sense the presence of a ghost,” Terry said. “A ghost’s energy would not be active and fresh, so John does not see ghosts well. A ghost is partially dissipated and old. Norma receives older information better, and that is why she has to feel them. She uses her skin and nose, which are two of the most powerful senses, although we don’t realize it and depend on sight and sound.”

“Yeah, that sounds right,” Ashley said. “Once she feels the spirit, she starts to hear the thoughts. She says it’s patchy, she can’t often get complete thoughts.”

“If they are old thoughts, there may be gaps in them,” Terry said. “Imagine an old video tape that’s been played too many times, or stretched and damaged. The result is the playback is not as good. Could be the same thing here.”

“And Yvette is completely different from everyone,” Ashley said. “That’s why all three of them worked well together because they received different information.”

“Yvette was the one who could not come in, right?” Terry asked.

“Yes,” Ashley said. She shuddered as she remembered the incident in front of the house. “Yvette was probably the most powerful of them. However, she was afraid of what she could do, so she held back. I think she takes Prozac to deaden the senses.”

“What is her power?”

“She’s a Talker,” Ashley said. “She not only can sense their presences and read active and stale thoughts, but she can communicate with spirits. She used to tell me ghosts came to seek her out, and scared her, because she was one of the few who could talk to them.”

“Really? That’s spooky,” Terry said.

“Norma said Talkers are powerful. They usually don’t develop their skills because the experience scares them too much,” Ashley said. “She said if Yvette would sharpen her skills, she could become a Walker.”

“And what’s a Walker,” Terry said.

“The strongest psychic. That’s someone who not only can talk to the dead, but also go into their world and interact,” Ashley said. She ran her hand over goose bumps on her arm.

“So, which are you?” Terry asked.

Ashley shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never been able make anything happen. I just get images and thoughts on occasion.”

“You don’t try to do more, because you’re scared to, right?” Terry stated.

“Yeah, that’s about right,” I said.

“So, you’re not like Norma, she has to try,” he said.

“I guess that’s right.”

“Do you see things current or past?”

Ashley averted her eyes to her hands. She twisted the ring on her finger. “I think I’ve heard current thoughts, but I know I’ve heard older ones as well,” she said.

“Interesting,” he said. “So you can see the past and the present, and you don’t make an effort to do so. So, you can do what both John and Norma do, and you may not have their limitations. You are much more than they are.”

“I don’t know,” she said in a throaty low voice.

The crackling of the fire punctuated the silence.

“Well then, let’s go,” Terry said.

“Where?” Keith asked.

“Since you two don’t have anything to do with either of the other two investigations,” Terry said. “How would you like to join my misfit investigation?”

“Really?” Ashley said. “You want us to help you?”

“Sure, I’d love some help,” Terry said.

“Cool,” Keith said.

“I’ll do it,” Ashley said. “You’re not going to make me do all the dirty work, are you?”

“Depends on what your definition of dirty work is,” Terry said. “But, like anything worth while, once you’ve proven yourself, the amount of dirty work goes down.”

“So, I have to prove myself,” Ashley said.

“Of course you do,” Terry said. “But, I promise I’ll pay more attention to what you do than your father does and your efforts will be valued.”

“Then, I guess, we have a deal,” Ashley said. Keith nodded his head.

“Now, what I will need you to do the first day here is to familiarize yourself with the house,” Terry said. “I don’t care how you do it, whether you walk through the house or sniff the air. Just pay close attention to details. Make a map of the house. Measure the rooms. Look for holes and areas that don’t add up, nulls in the house.”

“What are you going to do?” Keith asked.

“I have some additional research I will need to do,” Terry said. “But it’s important we have this preliminary information before we start.”

“Okay, you got it,” Ashley said.

“So, would you like me to violate Dr. Fran’s rules and tell you about this house?” Terry asked.

“You know about this house?” Ashley asked him. Her eyes widened in excitement.

“Sure, I do,” Terry said. “I did a little research before coming here.”

“How did you know where we were going?” Ashley asked. “None of us knew anything about this.”

“When Dr. Rogers asked me to come along this weekend, he told me I couldn’t know where we going or what we were doing. So, naturally I couldn’t accept that. I took it upon myself to find out all I could.”

“How?”

“I did a little hacking on Dr. Fran’s phone bills, and found the numbers he called often. Since he was flying out of Atlanta, I assumed it was on Delta Air Lines. I mean, what else flies from Atlanta? I hacked into Delta’s reservation system and found the travel arrangements he made, tracked the addresses of the calls, and I took the next step. How many haunted houses can there be in Cleveland? The answer surprised me, as there are more than I thought. I did a little research on the Internet, checking folklore and ghost websites. I looked at websites such as Ghosts of the Prairie, Obi-Wan’s UFO-free Paranormal Page, and Haunted Ohio.”

“I found the Franklin Castle and one Archer Ryan; founder of SearchNet.com and one of the few dot-com entrepreneurs smart enough to get out while they were still a millionaire. And he recently purchased said Franklin Castle,” Terry said. “What did you think of him? You think someone would have pulled him aside in school and taught him how to dress?”

Ashley and Keith laughed aloud.

“So, what’s the story?” Keith asked.

Terry leaned back in the chair, and brushed away some of the dust on the arms of the chair. His voice steady, he began to tell the story.

Go to Chapter 9a
Return to Chapter 7
Table of Contents