Rick Mofina - If Angels Fall

“I talked to a relative of the Beckers’ and he told meDanny’s parents will offer a substantial reward for Danny’s safe return. Andthe family just released to reports a home video of Danny at his cousin’sbirthday party. Taken two weeks ago. Here’s a bit of that now. Danny’s thesmaller boy wearing a red shirt.”

Danny’s cousins, Paul and Sarah appeared on TV withhim. Paul kicked a soccer ball to Danny. Sarah was skipping.

The man in the chair stopped rocking, and turned hishead slowly to Danny, allowing him to see only half of his face.

Danny took another step backward and searched the roomfor a door. He wanted to leave. Now. The man resumed rocking. Squeak-creak.

On TV, a man and a woman seated themselves before themicrophones. Transfixed, Danny clasped his hands together, blurting, “Mom, mymommy!”

Squeak-creak.

The press conference room was electric with emotionunder the lights. Silent, except for the soft flashes of still cameras and the whir-click of their rapid-fire motor drives. Nathan and Maggie held hands, sat with theirheads bowed, struggling to begin. Maggie brushed her eye. No makeup. Nathan wasunshaven. They had not slept.

“I’m sorry,” Nathan said. “This is difficult.”

They faced some one hundred reports, photographers,and camera crews. Relatives, friends, and police officials lined one wall.

Squeak-creak. Squeak-creak.

“Take your time,” somebody said.

Nathan nodded. The cameras flashed and whirred.

“Danny is all we have” Maggie began. “To the personwho has our son, we say please bring Danny back, please let him go, that’s allwe ask. We beg you. Please.” Tears streamed down her face, making it shiny. Thecameras flashed, reporters made notes.

Squeak-creak. Squeak-creak.

Nathan looked toward his family and friends. “We wantto say to the person who has Danny, our only child, please don’t harm him. Weknow you must be hurting to have taken Danny. Our son, Danny. We are nowsuffering together and only you can make things better. We beg you. Danny isjust a little boy, please let Danny go. Please.”

Nathan brushed his eyes. “We are willing-“ he stopped.With the help of our friends, we are willing to pay thirty-five thousanddollars for information that brings Danny home safely. If the person who hasDanny finds it in his heart to return Danny to us, you will receive everyconsideration. Please bring Danny back safely. Please.”

Several reporters started with questions. Nathan stoppedthem.

“That’s all we can say. Thank you.”

“Mr. Becker, a few short questions?” implored onereporter.

Squeak-creak. Squeak-creak.

“I’m sorry. Please, it’s all we can say now. Thankyou.”

“Waiiiittt!” Danny’s arms shot toward his mother andfather. “Come and get me please. I’ll be good. I promise. Mommy. Daddy.”

They left.

The chair stopped and so did Danny’s breathing.

The man stood, switched the set off. Danny scrambledto his feet and hurried to the kitchen, afraid to look behind him. He heard thepaws of the dog, following him. He could see a door in the kitchen. He reachedup and grasped the handle. It wouldn’t move. He kept trying. “Home.” He pulledmightily, and kicked the door for not cooperating. The dog yelped. What if heasked the man nicely?

“Home. Please.”

Nothing happened.

Danny looked over his shoulder-the man was across theroom, leaning over the big table with all the papers.

“Home. Please!” Danny sobbed.

The man raised his head, as if hearing Danny for thefirst time. He turned and faced him, smiling. He looked friendly. Danny noticeda silver cross hanging from his neck. The man squatted, held out his arms,inviting Danny to come to him.

Danny didn’t dare move. Something was funny about theman’s eyes. They were big and wide the way Daddy made his eyes go when he wasZombie Man. The man stepped closer.

“No! You leave me alone. Stop!” Danny shouted.

He ran for the basement stairs. The dog scamperedafter him.

Too small to run down them, Danny sat and bouncedalong each stair on his bottom as quickly as he could, racing to the room wherehe woke, slamming the door behind him, hurrying to a corner. Nowhere to hide.

The door’s handle turned. The man entered and smiled.Danny pushed himself against the corner. “Leave me alone! Go away!”

The man drew nearer, his black shadow looming againstthe wall. Towering over Danny, gazing down upon him from a few feet away.

Danny wanted to push himself through the wall, ballinghis hands into fists, clutching them together against his chest, terrifiedsomething bad was going to happen.

“Go away! Go away!”

The man dropped to his knees, stretched out his arms.

“Oh Raphael! Holy Rescuer, Holy Guardian! Years I havesuffered. Years, I have atoned. Years I have waited and now you have come! Youhave come!”

Edward Keller was enraptured, arms outstretched, palmsto heaven.

“Oh Raphael! The prophet’s words are true. ‘Through meyou enter where the lost are sent.’ Raphael. The resurrection has begun!”

Keller bowed before Danny.

Danny cried harder than he ever had in his life.

An hour after Danny Becker’s mother and father pleaded for his safe return, SanFrancisco’s top detectives gathered in Room 400 at the Hall of Justice onBryant. Over the years the room had sucked up the sweat, the fury, and the verysouls of investigators avenging the dead whose lives had been taken by evil,perpetually manifesting itself in every wicked force imaginable from crackcocaine to the Zebra, from the Dai Hen Jai to the Zodiac.

Enlarged photos of Danny and Tanita gazed from thecorkboard Inspector Gord Mikelson had wheeled into place. Beneath their faces acity map was pierced with tiny flap pins. Pink for locations in the Donne case,blue for Becker. Each had a related file. Notebooks were opened. Reports andwitness statements were circulated.

“Right off, we’ve got one unidentified suspect andlittle else on Becker. No calls, letters, demands. No body,” Mikelson said.

“Not yet,” someone muttered, alluding to statisticsthat show that if an abducted child was not found alive within forty-eighthours, the child was likely dead.

“We will have none of that shit here. Understand? Ortomorrow you are working a fucking koban giving directions to a hayseed fromBoise.” Lieutenant Leo Gonzales, head of the Homicide Detail, unwrapped animported cigar and squinted at the talent in the room. Among them wereSydowski, Turgeon, and FBI Special Agents Rust and Ditmire. Gonzales made eyecontact with everyone, including Captain Miles Beck, Deputy Chief ofInvestigations, Bill Kennedy, and Nick Roselli, chief of inspectors. Many inthe room were unfamiliar with the Donner case. Adhering to the city’sno-smoking rule Gonzales did not light his cigar, though he yearned to.“Although we’ve got no body, we are concerned with the obvious similarities toDonner, Walt’s file. Now listen up.” Gonzales nodded to Mikelson. “Go, Gord.”

“We have nothing unusual in the twenty-four hoursbefore Danny Becker’s abduction. We canvassed their route. A couple of peoplebelieve they saw a man follow Nathan and Danny onto the bus. Their descriptionsare vague, but generally fit with Nathan’s. But we really don’t have anythingstrong in that department.”

“What about a composite?” Inspector Art Tipper said.

“The father got a glimpse of the bad guy at Balboa,but his description is unclear. We’ve got the police artist and Beth atComputer Enhancing working something up.”

“The game, anything there?” Tipper asked.

“Working on it with guys across the bay,” Sydowskisaid.