Timmy

CHAPTER NINE: SEARCH FOR TRUTH

CHAPTER NINE: SEARCH FOR TRUTH

Later that day, inside the dim crawlspace, Timmy, with his make-up washed off and his long hair neatly combed out straight again, searched through the small pile of sheet music, lying on the floor.  Once he had found the music book he was looking for, he placed himself in front of the music stand where he had set the book, lying open to the first page.  Finally ready, Timmy picked up a conductor's wand from the music stand and began to slowly wave it at a picture of a full orchestra he had taped to the wall in front of the music stand as he began to hum a tune.  Behind him, Jeff pushed the backdrop aside, stepping inside.

  'That was the best performance yet, Timmy.' he said. 'You and the other performers really knocked my dad's socks off, I...'

  He stopped short, seeing what Timmy was doing, and smiled as he leaned against one wall, watching him.  Jeff knew that Timmy had always done this to help him gather and focus his thoughts. Still, he could not get over how flawlessly Timmy moved the wand with the song he was quietly humming to himself as if he were directing a full orchestra through a magnificent performance.

  'His talents seem boundless.' he thought. 'I wonder how he can pick up on things so quickly.'

  Suddenly, Timmy stopped humming and Jeff dropped his thoughts. Angered voices were beginning to clearly echo through a vent in the floor beneath the picture of the orchestra.  Timmy and Jeff both paused to listen.

  'So what now, Stone!?!' challenged Max, angrily, standing on the empty stage.  'All of your plans thus far have failed!'

  'Through no fault of my own!' snapped Stone. 'My last plan was flawless, only Wayne couldn't handle a mere six year old girl!'

  'The King boy would not be a thorn in our sides right now if Max had not have messed up in the first place!' Wayne snapped back. 'He should have made sure he was dead when we killed both of his parents!'

  Inside the crawlspace, a frightened gasp escaped from Timmy's lips as he froze, unmoving.  For a moment, he did not move, it was as if a powerful, invisible force had suddenly gripped him.  Then, almost in slow motion, the conductor's wand dropped out of  his trembling hand and fell towards the floor.  A woman's scream echoed in Timmy's mind just before the wand stuck the wood floor with, inside his mind, the sound of a gunshot.  The wand bounced up, flipped in the air, and hit the floor again, producing the same sound within his mind, before it finally came to a rest at his feet, the gunshots still echoing from his mind.

  Tears flowing from his eyes, Timmy shivered as he hopelessly  found himself trapped and torn between sadness, horror, and pure  explosive fury.  He could not, would not believe that his mother and father were not coming back but the angry voices that echoed from the vents forced him accept the sad possibility.

  'Mommy, no!'

  Behind him, Jeff, just as shocked by the voices he had heard, watched Timmy with an air of uncertainty, not knowing what he could do or say.  He took a step forward to attempt to offer his friend some comfort, but he froze dead in his tracks and cringed as Timmy suddenly dropped to his knees, letting out a loud, spine-chilling scream.  His cry echoed through the crawlspace window, into the empty alley, and through the ventilation system into every hall and room of the theater.  Inside the lobby, the children, who were just beginning to walk through the door, all  paused upon hearing Timmy's haunting scream.

  'Timmy?'

  Concerned, Angel took a step toward the cry but Alex quickly stepped in her way, slowly shaking his head.  Remembering their promise to keep their friend a secret, the children reluctantly left the building.  On the deserted stage, Stone and the three bouncers could not help but cringe themselves upon hearing the boy's agonized cry.

  'What in heaven's name was that?' asked Wayne.

  'That, I believe, was our little specter friend.' said Stone.  'It seems as if he had heard our conversation.' He chuckled, a small, evil grin touching the corners of his mouth, as he then whispered, 'Perhaps now he will come to us.'

  Back inside the crawlspace, Timmy, still in tears, jumped to his feet in a sudden burst of blind fury.  He knocked the music stand over with an angry swing of his arm and viciously kicked the pile sheet music, sending the papers flying about the make shift room.  Fortunately, none of the papers caught fire on the number of hanging candles.  As Timmy then turned and threw both of his fists onto the table, cracking it in half, Jeff stepped forward and grabbed him from behind in a powerful bear hug.

  'Let me go!' screamed Timmy, crying as he struggled. 'They're lying! They're lying!'

  'They can hear you through the vents, Timmy!' whispered Jeff, barely holding on to his friend. 'I know it hurts but you can't do anything about it if they catch you!'

  Timmy eased his mad struggling but he could not hold back the tears as he collapsed in a heap onto the floor, with Jeff still holding him down.

  'Please tell me they're lying, please tell me my mom and dad are going to come back.'

  'I don't have any answers for you, Timmy.  But I do know that we are going to find them.'

  'Whenever the Lord closes a door, he always opens another.' came a soft, feminine voice from one of the posters.

  'I want to get them.' sobbed Timmy, quietly. 'I want to get them for what they did.'

  'Be cool.' said the tough voice of a boy from another poster.

  'We will, Timmy.' said Jeff. 'We will.  Just hang in there for now, it will all work out, somehow.  Just hang on.'

  Jeff held Timmy close to him and began to slowly rock him back and forth as his brother, Jason had done for him during the many rough and lonely nights they had endured at the orphanage while, around them, Timmy thought he had heard the production posters whispering amongst themselves.

  'Angel told me that Stephanie should be feeling well enough to return to the stage by tomorrow morning.' said Jeff. 'Those two days of rest you bought for her really paid off.  The girls all  asked me to thank you for them.'

  'That is great news.' said Timmy, trying to dry his tears. 'I'm glad I was able to help her.'

  After a moment of thought, Jeff smiled and retrieved a Swiss army knife from his right front pocket and opened a miniature, but sharp pair of scissors.

  'What do you say I give you a haircut before the girls decide to give you another makeover.'

  Timmy looked at Jeff curiously for a moment then slowly began to laugh. 'Maybe just a trim.' said Timmy.

  Later that night, after Jeff had left, Timmy briefly looked at himself in a tiny, cracked mirror that was resting on the table. His auburn hair was now just above his shoulders, handsomely styled, as Jeff's hair was.  He liked the image that stared back at him in the mirror but it also saddened him.

  'This is what I looked like the night when''

  His voice trailed off as he found himself again fighting back the tears.  He walked over to his bed of discarded costumes and carefully pushed it aside, revealing an old, worn clipping that had been very carefully torn from a newspaper.  He picked it up and stared at the small headline that read,

Owners of New York Theater found slain in alley, five-year-old son still missing.

  'I had hoped it was all a lie.' he thought.

  Timmy then pulled his parent's picture out of his back pocket, carefully unfolded it, and stared at their image for a moment before turning to the star lit sky, praying.

  'Please tell me they're not dead.' he choked. 'I don't want to be an orphan.'

  A single tear fell from his cheek, onto the picture, opening the floodgate of his suffering as he again cried himself into a restless sleep.

  Inside another part of the theater, Jason, with a set of keys and a small briefcase in hand, quietly walked up to his parent's office.  He looked around, making certain no one was watching him, before thrusting a key into the lock and trying it.  It was the wrong one.  Jason tried another key, it was the wrong key as well.

  'Come on!' he whispered, nervously. 'I know the key is on this ring, somewhere!'

  After a few more tries, Jason finally found the right key and he crept inside, quietly closing and locking the door behind him.  Once he was safely inside, he placed the keys into his front jeans pocket before retrieving a small flashlight from his back pocket and turning it on.  The light immediately shinned forth, giving him just enough illumination to begin his search.

  'I don't like sneaking around, behind mom and dad's back.' he thought. 'But I can't give away Timmy's secret, I promised him that.'

  Searching quickly, Jason rambled through a number of boxes that stored the theater's old records, looking for  the records from four years ago and beyond, when Timmy's parents were still the owners.  Upon finding the right stack, Jason began to sift through the files, hoping to find something that would point to a reason for the death of Timmy's parents. At first, he did not find anything out of the ordinary and, after a while, his hopes sank as began to think he never would.  Then, upon opening the last box, in the pile, he found more than he had bargained for.  He found file upon file of records with the same dates as a number of files he had already looked through only moments before.

  'Someone has been keeping two sets of books.'

  Scanning through the files, Jason's eyes widened with interest.  He grabbed one of the other files and compared them.

  'Let's see now.  This file shows a large number of props moving in and out of this theater but it doesn't show that on the file I looked at earlier.  Where were all of these unmarked props sent?'

  Checking the records in the file, Jason found that they had been sent to a number of locations throughout the United States and to a small number of neighboring countries.  Digging deeper, he found that the shipments of props had continued after the theater was shut down and were still being carried out then.

  'This is not right.!'  said Jason, quietly to himself.  'I don't recognize any of these theaters.  And, as far as I know, my dad isn't in the business of shipping props to other theaters.  I had better show this to the boys!'

  Jason opened his briefcase and placed a small number of the files inside before quickly placing the boxes back into the order he had found them in so that no one would know he was there.  Once he was done, he turned off his flashlight, returning it to his back jeans pocket and snapped the briefcase closed.

  'That's one piece of the puzzle he thought, snatching up the briefcase. 'Now to find where it fits in the picture.'

  Elsewhere, on the other side of the theater, Jeff, with a notepad and pen in hand, was standing against one wall in the theater's work shop, talking to a small number of the production staff who had been working late, repairing piecing together a number of pieces of prop furniture.

  'Did you know the last owners of this theater, Mr. Craft?' asked Jeff.

  'We sure did.' replied one of the staff members. 'They were a fine couple, they were good people too.' he shook his head.  'It's a real pity that they passed away.'

  Jeff scribbled a few notes onto his pad and asked, 'Do any of you happen to know if anything unusual was going on the day they were killed?'

  A second staff member eyed Jeff suspiciously. 'Why such a sudden interest in the theater's previous owners, Jeff?' he asked.

  Jeff shrugged, hiding his nervousness. 'Sue asked me to throw these questions.' he said, casually. 'I'm only doing this to her and her parents off my back, they've been driving me and my brother crazy lately.'

  The man grunted, his face softening. 'Yeah, the girl's news hound parents can be a bit of a pain, can't they?  I sometimes feel sorry for her, having to deal with the two of them embarrassing her on top of having to worry about her rehearsals.'

  'I sometimes feel sorry for all of us.' said Jeff, smiling.

  Mr. Craft chuckled at Jeff's remark, shaking his head. 'Well, to answer your question, there wasn't anything unusual going on that we know about during the night in question.  You can find all of our statements in the police records, they should all be public record by now, on file at city hall .'

  The second man nodded in agreement. 'The investigating police questioned all of us in the week that followed  tragic night, Jeff.'  He shook his head.  'They had originally marked the previous owner's death as a robbery but things became complicated when no one could not find their five year old son.'

  Jeff  scribbled a few more notes onto his pad.  'What do you mean by complicated?'

  'Everyone who was working here knew that their son was with them that night.' replied a third staff member. 'But when you have two dead parents and a missing son, it turns into a homicide and kidnapping case, do you follow me?'

  Jeff nodded. 'Maybe now I'll get some real answers now.' he thought.

  'Well, the theater was immediately shut down to launch a full investigation into the owner's death and a search for their missing son.  All of which started the very next day. Unfortunately, the investigation did not turn up anything suspicious and  the search for their son was unsuccessful.'

  'Are the police still looking for him.'

  The third staff member shook his head. 'No, Jeff.  It's been four years since that day, the police have given up the search a long time ago.'

  'They declared the boy missing, presumed dead two years ago.' added the second staff member. 'It's a real shame, their son was a good kid, everyone here really liked him.'

  Jeff swallowed hard.  He was on a dead end and he feared that if he threw too many more questions, it would only make the staff suspicious.

  'Was there anything else you wanted to ask us, Jeff?' asked Mr. Craft. 'We have a lot of work ahead of us before we can all call it a day.'

  Jeff shook his head, trying his best to hide his disappointment. 'No, thank you, sir.' he said. 'I think this should be enough to get Sue and her parents off my back for a while.'
 
  Mr. Craft smiled.  'I'm glad we could help you out.' he leaned towards him, suddenly turning serious. 'But I suggest that you try not to help the girl or her news hound parents too much.  I don't think your parents would like to see you sticking your neck out too far.'  He leaned closer and smiled. 'Try to stay on the safe side, Jeff, by staying out of this.'

  Jeff looked at Mr. Craft for a moment, uncertain.  He was not sure weather to take his remark as a piece of friendly advice or a threat.  Finally, he returned Craft's smile and nodded.

  'I'll keep that in mind.'

  'You do that.' said Craft. 'Now, if you will excuse us, we need to get back to work.'

  Jeff backed away from the men, with them watching him,  then turned around and hurried off with his notepad and pen still in hand.  After he was gone, Craft pulled a radio from his belt and hit the transmit button.

  'Mr. Stone, we may have a problem here.'

  Elsewhere, inside the New York public library, Alex, Tex, Paul, and Race met each other at a table near the reference section.  There was a small pile of books lying in front of them, none of which had given them any clues they had been hoping to find.

  'I have been pouring over every reference I could think of.' said Alex, frustrated. 'There just isn't anything there that would suggest that there was something suspicious going on.'

  'I checked the newspaper archives in the basement.' said Race. 'But with three hundred and sixty five papers to go through in each of the newspapers that are published in New York City...' He shook his head, fighting off his own frustration. 'You are talking about looking for a needle in a haystack.'

  'Did you find anything at all?' asked Alex, turning to Tex.

  Tex shook his head. 'I looked through every investigative magazine that deals with the theater district, even the magazine Sue's parents run, but there is just nothing there to suggest any kind of trouble brewing there before Timmy lost his parents.'

  'What about you, Paul?' asked Alex, turning to him.

  Paul shook his head as well. 'Not a thing.  I poured over book after book covering the history of the Broadway theaters, but I did not find anything unusual about the open door theater, nothing that would suggest anything strange going on there, anyway.'

  Alex let out a heavy sigh. 'It looks like we hit a dead end here.'  He turned to Race. 'Did you hear from Scott, Leuey, Ken, or Stan?'

  Race shrugged. 'Stan, Leuey, and Scott had gone to check the city records to see what they can dig up.  They were supposed to met up with us here.'

  Then, as if on cue, Stan, Leuey, and Scott entered the library and walked over to the table where Alex, Tex and Race were waiting.  There was no need for words, their frustrated expressions told the rest of the group that they had not found anything.

  'Nothing!' said Leuey, dropping himself into an empty chair. 'We found nothing that would point to any foul play going on at the Open Door theater.'

  'Have you guys heard from Ken?' asked Alex, hopeful.

  Scott shook his head. 'He told us that he had a theory and hurried out of the building as if the city social workers were on his tail.'

  'Did he tell you what his theory was?'

  Again, Scott shook his head. 'Nope.  All he told us was that he would met all of us at the library later.'  He looked at his watch. 'That was almost two hours ago.'

  'Well, he had better hurry.' said Tex, looking at a watch of his own. 'Our folks will be here to pick us up any minute.'

  One and a half hours earlier, back at the theater, Ken, with flashlight in hand, treaded carefully through the halls of the ill repaired west wing.  He shinned his flashlight on a number of doors until he found one, barely visible in a far corner, as it was made to look like the surrounding wall.  Upon the hidden door were a number of etched words that spelled, 'Cryptic Enclosure.'

  'This is it.' he thought.

  Ken searched for, and soon, found the door knob.  It was hidden inside the door itself, behind a moveable piece of particle board that was, again, made to look like the surrounding wall.

  'Timmy's father really knew what he was doing when he built this office.' he thought.

  Ken had originally found the secret office by accident but he had never dared to try to gain entry into it.  In his mind, only Timmy had the right.  But then, he did not see any other choice.  He tried the door, it was, as he had suspected, locked tight.

  'Not a problem.'

  Reaching into his pocket, Ken produced two small picks, which he used to pick the lock, also hidden behind a movable piece of particle board.  Within moments, the door was unlocked and Ken stepped inside, placing the two picks back into his pocket.

  'I never thought I would have to turn to old habits to help Timmy.' he thought, looking around with his flashlight. 'Dad will smack me silly if he finds out, but Timmy had done so many favors for me so it's worth it.'

  Not entirely certain what he was looking for, Ken began looking through the desk and file cabinet drawers, using his picks to open them.  The office, although dusty from four years of not being used, seemed to have been untouched since the passing of Timmy's parents.  It almost seemed as if it was still being used.  Ken shivered at the thought and hurried his search along.'

  'I really don't like rummaging through the office of Timmy's parents.' he thought, looking through a cabinet drawer. 'It's like invading a shrine or something.'

  Continuing his search, Ken stumbled upon a small safe, hidden behind a fake panel in the back of a closet in the far corner of the room.  A small smile touched the corners of his mouth but it vanished as quickly as it had come, remembering who's office he was rummaging through.  With a heavy sigh, Ken cracked his knuckles and proceeded to crack the safe.  As he slowly turned the knob, listening to the clicking inside the safe door, he did not notice the small figure who had entered the room and was now quietly standing behind him, watching.  The small safe was open moments later and Ken carefully looked through it's contents.  Ignoring the small stacks of money and bags of change, he found a small, hard bound book.  On the cover were hand written letters, done in sparkle glue, that spelled out, 'Dad's Journal.'  Ken could not help shed a tear as he looked at it.

  'Timmy must have made this for his dad before he...'

  He could not get himself to finish the thought.  Instead, he quietly closed the safe and gave the knob a spin to lock it tight.  He stood up and looked at the journal he had found.

  'This may give us some clues as to what was really going on around here before Timmy lost his folks.' he said, thinking aloud.  He frowned, angry with himself. 'It's not right for me to read his father's journal.  I should give it to Timmy.' he shook his head, frustrated.  'But if we are going to help him....'

  Ken's frown deepened as he struggled with the ethics of the choice that had faced him.  Behind him, the silent figure raised his arm, as if to place a reassuring  hand on Ken's shoulder but pulled it back and quietly left the room, unnoticed.

  Half an hour later, at the library, Alex anxiously looked at his watch.  'Where is he?'

  'I'm right here.' replied Ken, walking up to the table.  'Sorry I'm late, I had to rush back to the theater.'

  'What about this theory you had?' asked Scott.

  Ken frowned and reached under his shirt, retrieving the small black book he had taken from the office safe in the west wing.  'It's a journal.' he said. 'I found it in an office in the west wing.'  He swallowed.  'It- It belonged to Timmy's father.'

  The others looked at each other, uncertain.  The shock and significance of Ken's find was clear in their expressions, as was the question that dominated their minds.

  'Did you read it?' asked Alex, finally.

  Ken shook his head. 'I couldn't get myself to even open the cover.  I mean, it belonged to his father, it just did not feel right.'

  The others nodded in agreement, although they all knew what had to be done.

  'So, who is going to read it tonight?' asked Paul.

  Again, the boys looked at each other, uncertain.  There was a long pause with no talking until a librarian approached their table.

  'Your parents are here to pick you up, boys.' she said, politely. 'Will you be checking any of these books out tonight?'

  The boys looked at the young woman for a moment in a daze before Alex finally replied, 'No- No thank you, ma'am.  Sorry, we will put the books back for you.'

  The librarian smiled at them sweetly. 'Don't worry about that, boys.' she said. 'I will take care of that after you leave.  You just have a good evening.'

  With that, she left them to deal with another patron, leaving the boys to talk.

  'We have to decide now.' said Alex, quietly. 'One of us has to take this journal home tonight and read it.'

  Paul cleared his throat. 'We are all staying at the same hotel, in the same suite right?'

  'Well, yeah, we are.' replied Alex. 'But what does that have to do with this?'

  'It's simple.' said Paul. 'We will all get together tonight and one of us will read the journal out loud while the rest of us listen. That way, if there are any clues hidden within its pages, one of us will catch it.'

  'That's not a bad idea.' said Ken. 'But we will have to find a private place to do it.'

  Alex knotted his jaws, thinking. 'We will do it tonight in living area while our dads are sleeping.' he said. 'It takes a hurricane to wake them up.'

  The other boys nodded in agreement and Alex took the journal, placing it into his library bag for safe keeping, before following the others as they walked towards the exit.

  'With a little luck, this will fill a few pieces of the mystery surrounding the death of Timmy's parents.' he whispered carefully to the others. 'I just hope Jeff and Jason are having as much luck as we are.'

  'Don't worry about it.' said Paul, whispering back. 'If there is anything to be found, they will find it.  Right now, we have to focus on the contents of that old journal.'

  Alex nodded, a small smile touching the corners of his mouth. 'You know, I bet Angel and the girls would go crazy if they knew we had this.'

  The other boys chuckled and nodded in agreement as they finally exited the library and met up with their parents, waiting for them next to a large red van, parked in the small parking lot outside.

  'It took you boys long enough to finish up.' said Ron, opening the van door for them. 'Did you find what you were looking for?'

  'We didn't find everything we were looking for, dad.' replied Stan. 'But I think we found enough to go on for now.'

  'What was it you were working on again?' asked Don.

  'We were just trying to look up a little history on the theater we are playing in.' replied Alex. 'Ever since you three adopted us, you had said that if you want to know something about anything to look it up.'

  Jon smiled and nodded. 'Well, I'm glad that you boys are taking our lessons to heart.' He motioned for the boys to get into the van. 'Come on, you all need to rest up if you are going to be ready for final rehearsals tomorrow morning.'

The boys quickly piled into the van, with Jon and Ron following, while Don jumped into the driver's seat.  Once everyone was aboard, Don carefully maneuvered the red van out of the parking lot and drove off, towards their hotel.

  'But mom!' protested Angel inside her apartment.

  'Arguing with me will not get you anywhere, young lady!'  Her mother sighed to calm herself. 'Look, try to be reasonable about this, Angel.  I have a very important meeting with my lawyer at six o' clock tomorrow morning, I can not miss it.  Now, Mr. and Mrs. Stravis have already agreed to watch after you until I am able to get back.  I will drop you off at the theater around five thirty, I promise you I will get back as soon as I can.'

  'But final dress rehearsals don't start until eight tomorrow morning.  What am I supposed to do over there for...?' Then, she remembered hearing Timmy's anguished scream echoing through the vents inside the lobby only hours before and decided go along with her mother's plans.

  'I'm sure you will think of something to keep yourself busy.' said her mother.

  Angel sighed. 'Well, I guess I could help Brandy's sons, I heard they could use some help with the props and backdrops.'

  Her mother smiled. 'That's my girl. Now try to get some sleep, tomorrow is going to be a very busy day.' She winked at her. 'Especially if one of those cute boys ask you out to lunch.'

  Angel sighed at her mother, rolling her eyes, and walked away, into her bedroom.

  'Good night mom.' she said.

  Her mother laughed. 'Good night, Angel.'

  Inside her bedroom, Angel walked to her window and looked out at the city skyline, a worried look forming on her face. 'Good night, Timmy.  I hope you're okay out there.'