The Murder Artist

Another silver-haired couple – the same ones? – walk the rocky beach. I turn toward them, one boy on each arm. They’re tugging me along now, I’m moving so slowly. And then I just can’t manage another step.

“It’s okay,” I tell the boys, trying to get my feet moving. “It’s going to be okay.” I stumble and fall.

Kevin takes off like a shot, and I see the three figures, the elegant couple bending slightly to catch my son’s words. Kevin points – they look our way.

Sean holds my hand in a ferocious grip.

Kevin and the couple are ru

My eyes close.

“Dad,” Kevin says.

“Sea Ranch,” the man is saying into the phone. Down on the beach. “Meg, I’m going to get the Jeep.”

“Oh, my God,” the woman says. She wraps something around my injured hand. “You boys, you press down on this,” she says. “Just like this, okay?”

“Yes.”

“Stan! Your coat.” She wraps my injured arm and compresses the wound. “Keep up the pressure, boys, that’s great.”

“Is he going to be all right?” Kevin asks, his voice trembling.

“Yes,” the woman says in a confident voice. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”

And somehow, although I suspect she’s said this just to calm the boys, I know she’s right.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks very much to Detective Kevin Ma

When acknowledging assistance, it would not be right to omit mention of the following books, which provided valuable information about the book’s subject matter: Voodoo: Search for the Spirit by Lae