“Psycho” was the only word James Peterson was
thinking as he saw his unshaven face in the mirror. “James Peterson” the brain
and brawn behind more than eighteen political murders was trying to recollect
how he looked by seeing himself in the mirror. He had changed his appearance
more than seventeen times and was wanted by more than forty-seven countries
across the world. Even if he went to the chief of FBI and introduced himself as
James Peterson the chief would give a generic reply of “How could I help you
Sir” - that was the brilliance with which he planned his crimes.
As every man, he too had the ambition of becoming the
richest, the most powerful and the most famous. Nobody knew that he was a
serial rapist and killer “also” who committed those so called heinous crimes
just to satisfy his self, that nobody equaled his brilliance in planned crime
or covering up an unplanned crime. He was an orphan as he could recollect and
was raised in the local city orphanage of the Los Angeles (did some body say
crime- Yes Los Angeles the crime capital of the richest nation on earth).But
James was a brilliant student (as being a good student was the only way one can
get out of the strict rules of the orphanage before he became 18) and he soon
was out of the orphanage and was living on his own before he was 17 and was the
leader of a gang of hooligans of his own age and worked for the Tama chino
family. His first murder was at the age of 19 and that too of a famous senator.
He couldn’t recollect any proper reason for the murder other than that he was
paid 500 US$ for the job.
Now he was standing there in front of his mirror
thinking about how to pass his evening for which he had many options. Just then
the phone rang, that was a very bad thing for James as he never communicated
with the outer world through this device. He picked up the device which had
leaked the information of so many master planners to their enemies and led them
to death.
“Hello, James?”
This was the worst shock he had ever had in his whole
life. Somebody calls him and calls by his first name- his brain works fast and
tells him that it is wrong number and is meant for somebody else by the name
James.
“Sorry wrong number this is not James here”, and he keeps the phone
without even waiting for the reply.
Even before his fast brain could think anything about this incident the
phone rang again, he picked it up and before he could say hello the other side
shouts
“Son, Don’t keep the phone, I know you are James Peterson”,
“hickkkk” James skipped a heart beat- this is not possible” Shocked
he blurts out
“Who are you”,
“I am your father”
“My father is dead, I am orphan”
“No, I am very much alive”
“Why should I believe you?”
“I can’t tell you anything now, come to the Central
park the second bench from the east gate 7:00 pm”
“I won’t come there”
“I know you will”
Beep, beep, beep ………the line is dead.
His brain told “This is the most foolishly laid trap ever, and you
would be the biggest idiot if you fall for it”
His heart spoke for the first time after 27 years “Hear your heart for
once and get to know your parent”
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” he shouted out falling
on his knees not able to bear the two organs of his body which were waging a
war against each other.
James was sitting idle on the park bench watching
little kids playing as the sun was setting across the horizon. He never liked
kids and never showed mercy towards them. Twice had he killed infants with
their parents who were the actual target
Even as he sat there looking harmless waiting to
become the bait and thinking about that call – so absurdly straight forward as
if his “so called father” knew every thing about him. This surprised him and
left him totally clueless for the first time in his life.
The sun was setting and
darkening the now almost emptied park, it was half past seven. A shadow moved
across his bench, he turned but before the shadow had left but not without a
clue a small piece of folded paper lie on his bench,
“Come to the 143,7th Cross Burlington street”
He caught a cab and
pronounced the address, the cab moved to the destination. He started wondering
about his father to be a more brilliant criminal than him. Before his already
confused thoughts could convert him from a psycho to a confused psycho the cab
stopped. He payed the cab driver and got down, He was surprised by the villa
standing in the middle of a street full of flats. He walked into the villa and
knocked the door.
“His intention was to place a gun at head of
the first person he sees there and get some reason out of this whole situation”
And before the door opened
a gun was stuck at his back and by instinct he tried to use his twist and
snatch technique one more hand caught his arms and cuffed his wrists. “Too
fast”, He was searched, his Beretta taken and then his cuffs were removed
and he was pushed into the door which opened with alarming sync to the finish
of his search. He was just too surprised to see the disrespect shown by these
people towards one of the most wanted criminals of the world. Angry, frustrated
and cursing his heart which had spoken to him for the first time in his life
and screwed him too, he walked across the large hall which lay before him, at
the end of which was a stair case going to the other floors of the villa. As he
neared the stairs a man in his early 60’s in a dark suit with a diamond pin
walked down it.
“My son”, the old man gasped and reached for
his sons arm, which his son just whisked off and moved farer.
“You Bastard”, James shouted “Who are you, what
do you want?”
“I am your father, I have been tracking you for
past 17 years, I can prove it”, the old man begged.
“Then why did I open my eyes in an orphanage”,
James cried, surprised by his own reaction he covered his face with his hands.
As these two twisted characters
spent a couple of hours with each other James found out the old man who called
himself Dan Peterson had not married his wife until after 2 years of her giving
birth of James and she had to put him away in an orphanage and she hadn’t
informed him about that son until 10 years after their marriage. James after
long time was feeling something other than criminality in his mind. After the
stories were told by the father and son to each other and after their reunion
which took some time, Dan called for dinner.
On the dinner table Dan sipping his soup
pleaded
“Son, I know I am responsible for you being
into the criminal world now and I am powerful enough to bring you out of it.
Please join me and leave your business”.
“It is too early to think about it and it is
too complicated to get out of that world, I am already aaagghhhh……” James fell
on the floor and was rubbing his throat as if it had caught fire.
Dan got up from his seat on the table came near
James walking as if this was something that he was expecting to happen and as
though he was satisfied with the timing.
“My son, sorry I had to do this, I am very
sorry, god bless your soul”, James stared at Dan as if to ask him something.
“I know what you are thinking, Yes you are
poisoned you are going to die within 3 minutes. Won’t you like to know why you
are meeting this fate? Pity you are my son and I am not mourning for you,
instead I am happy now. Do you remember Cathie?” Dan smiled
James’ mind flashed his
remembrance of Cathie, Catherina the senator who had been his first victim,
whom he had stabbed 13 times just for sake of making the count of 13 though she
dint survive even the fifth cut on her body, those 500US$ flashed across his
memory……………and again he stared at Dan as if totally puzzled.
Dan whispered “I tracked you down for so long
and I came to know that you were my son two years back.” And then he shouted
“You bloody bastard, Cathie was my wife, your damned mother” and kicked James
in his stomach. “Remember the name you moron Catherina Peterson” he shouted
again and walked out of the dining hall and the lights faded off as James lie
their withering in pain and unable to scream, with tears on his eyes pain his
body and no hope of reaching heaven.
The next day’s newspaper
read “Body of unknown person found in abandoned villa at 143,7th Cross Burlington street”
| 
