MISDIRECTION

PART 1: SUICIDAL SWEATERS

A sense of foreboding filled the room. There were no sounds, other than the leaking tap and the shrill sound of the sirens leaving the apartment block. The four remaining members of the Sweater family sat still in the room, along with their local priest and me. While they prayed silently to their god for the soul of Nero Sweater, I read over the words that were painted black along the lounge room wall once more: I felt that if I could only reach higher, I could touch the stars. This same statement painted nine times in each room of the apartment.

The snap of the priest closing his Bible brought me back to the room and out of my thoughts. Cadence, Fedelia, Bernard and Silvester Sweater made the sign of the cross, as they returned to the reality that was Apartment Three-Nine.

“So, Mr Sweater, can you think of any reason why your brother might jump out the window?” I asked the eldest of the Sweater clan. “I mean, six years ago there were eleven of you Sweaters gracing the pages of magazines and attending every gala event that America had to offer. Then only a year ago there were nine of you Sweater siblings and now we’re down to four. Now I was never too good with my numbers, but to me five dead Sweaters in just over a year seems a little too convenient to put up to chance!”

“I told you and the police – I don’t know why he would do that!” Silvester responded angrily. “Nero was always a little odd, but I wouldn’t think that he would have it in him to do…” He paused to stifle a sob. “… I… I just don’t know what made him jump!”

“Mr. Sloan, I beseech you to cease your questioning at this time. You can see that all four family members are in mourning about this most tragic event. Maybe it would be better for all if you continue your investigation into Nero’s… uh… incident, once the family are in a less traumatised state.” The priest pleaded on behalf of the Sweater family.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Father… um… what do I call you?”

“Father Quigley.”

“Well, Father Quigley, the way I see it - the Sweaters were once a powerful group in Boston, but since the death of their patriarch, Silvestro, things have been falling apart.” I looked at the tear-stained faces of the four silent family members and then back at the priest. “Silvestro passed away after a random jump from an aeroplane six years…”

“That was an accident!” The priest interjected.

“Skydiving with a parachute that malfunctions is an accident,” I argued, “But doing a jump from 13,000 feet without a parachute even strapped on – I think we can safely conclude that that wasn’t accidental. Either he jumped or was pushed.”

“Well, we were never there, so we cannot jump to conclusions.” The priest held his stance.

I eyed him suspiciously. It seemed that he knew something that he wasn’t telling me. “Then there was their matriarch, Leandra, shot nine times without so much as a sign of a struggle, just a year later. Nothing stolen – No motive at all.”

“They imprisoned Uncle Turner in Walpole for that,” Fedelia stated without any hint of feeling.

I turned to her and the rest of her family. “Yes and how convenient that he died trying to escape just a month after imprisonment… ran himself into police bullets, yelling ‘She was meant to stop me’.”

“The Lord works in mysterious ways, Mr Sloan,” The priest stated.

I sighed in frustration. They were definitely hiding something. “So, Father Quigley, explain to me how your god works when he kills off five siblings out of nine in just over a year? All apparently falling from great heights… young Zea jumped off the Zakim Bridge on the first of January of last year. Apparently she was trying to help a man who was committing suicide himself – bystanders said she leapt off the tower of the bridge after calling out ‘I’ll save him’. How she got to the top of the tower, we don’t know, but we sure know how she came down; bouncing off cables, before being sliced in half by one – part of her left on the bridge, the other close by to the man that jumped. He was hysterical when police pulled him out of the water.”

The four siblings looked at each other. The priest glanced at them and then returned his attention to me. “Now, Zea did have her problems.”

“Aaron and Cato Sweater somehow managed to get to the top of the John Hancock Tower, only to find themselves splattered on the ground in a matter of seconds later. Did they climb up there to have a fight? Wrestled each other to the bottom? What were they doing up there?” I questioned harshly. “Then we’ve got Poppy Sweater… do we want to cue the sinister music here?”

“Look, we know how our family has passed!” Silvester shouted, “We do not need the reminders! What we need is some peace and quiet to mourn their passing! Get out of here!” The priest walked across to Silvester in a bid to calm him.

“Mr Sloan, I think it would be best if you left,” Bernard Sweater declared, though he did not say it as passionately as his elder brother had done.

“Maybe it’s best if we…” Cadence began, only to be interrupted by her brother.

“It’s best if he left,” Bernard told her, and then turned back to me, “We are in need of some rest and your presence is no longer required.”

I sighed in frustration. “You all seem to be forgetting – you hired me. I was hired to find out what happened to your father and then you asked me to look into why both your brothers would have jumped from the Hancock Tower.”

“Well, I guess your job is done,” Silvester stated, the anger still evident in his tone.

“Such an ominous height,” Fedelia said, as she stared out into the distance. “Why do it at such an ominous height?”

“See!” I exclaimed, “That’s what makes me think that there’s something you’re not telling me. All of you make these off the cuff comments about the events, which tells me you know something.”

Silvester went into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. Opening it, he took out a wad of cash and began to leaf through it. When he was done, he handed me a handful of notes. “That’s $2000 for your services and here’s another $1000 for any trouble that we’ve caused you.” He folded his wallet and placed it back in his jacket. “Now, I want you gone, Mr Sloan. We do not need the likes of you here anymore,” he said in a less emphatic fashion.

I sighed once more and looked over the priest and the family again. Shoving the money into the pocket of my overcoat, I noticed Cadence Sweater giving me a look that appeared like she wanted to say something. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you all?” I said, giving Cadence the opportunity to tell me whatever it was she wanted me to know. But all was quiet. Bernard and Silvester shook their heads and then Father Quigley walked across to me.

“Let me lead you to the door,” he said, as he picked up my hat and handed it to me.

I placed the hat on my head and tipped it at the family. “You have a good night, now. Let me know if you need anything more done.” With that I left the Sweaters to their secrets.

PART 2: ANOTHER LOST SWEATER

A year later, a knock on my office door brought with it a familiar face.

“Mr Sloan, you’ve got to help me!”

I sat back in my office chair and looked over the desperate man who stood in front of me. “Silvester Sweater… back in my office again. I thought you didn’t need the likes of me anymore?”

“You’ve got to help us,” he pleaded.

I picked up yesterday’s newspaper and threw it in front of him. The headline screamed: Another Sweater Suicide. “Is this what you came to see me about?”

He glanced at the headline and nodded. “Fedelia is dead.”

“I know. I read the papers, just like everyone else,” I said nonchalantly. “So what is it that you want me to do, Mr Sweater? Last time I took on one of your cases, your family wasn’t really forthcoming with information. I can’t investigate things properly if my clients hold out on me.”

Silvester Sweater slumped down in the chair opposite my desk and held his head in his hands. He began crying. “I didn’t tell them…” He sobbed, “They needed to know and I didn’t tell them… please… help me…”

I sat up, a little uncomfortable with a grown man weeping in my presence. “Just what is it that you want me to do, Mr Sweater?”

He sobbed uncontrollably and when he raised his head, tears mixed with snot ran down his face. I threw him the box of tissues that were sitting on my desk. He grabbed a handful and wiped at his nose and then grabbed another handful to dry the rest of his face. “It’s… I made a bad deal… He… He said it would cost… cost me… and… and now… now they… they’re dead!” He burst out crying once more.

“Who was the deal with? Who do you believe is killing off your family?”

“The Koltons… I made a business deal with Marbrand Kolton and it fell through…”

“How long ago was this?”

“T… two months ago… and he… he… he said he would…”

“Two months ago?” I had had enough. “Fedelia was the only one of you who’s died within the past two months! She died the same as most of your other family members! Are you trying to use me to stop a competitor, Sweater?”

“No! It’s true!” Silvester yelled, “You have to believe me! Kolton said he was going to get what he was owed one way or another!” He clasped his hands over his face and cried even more.

This wasn’t what I was used to and, as I hadn’t signed off on anything yet, it wasn’t what I wanted to get involved in at this point in time. “Look, Mr Sweater, if all you’re going to do is cry and use up all of my tissues then you’ll need to leave. I’ve got enough business to attend to and you coming in crying like this doesn’t endear me into looking at your case once again.”

“No! You can’t just brush us off…” He pleaded once again, “We’re the Sweaters… Boston’s most powerful family… We need your help! Please!”

I got up out of my comfortable office chair and strode across to the door. “Silvester, I think it’s best that you leave. You may be one of the Sweaters – Boston’s most powerful family, but you’re also part of a family that’s falling apart. I’m not taking the case.” I raised my eyebrows and shook my head towards the door. “Out!”

“But… what about…?” He got up and stumbled towards the door. “You can’t do this… Sloan… please… you need to protect us…”

“Hire a security guard… or, with your money, a firm… better yet, pay Kolton off.” I suggested as I closed the door behind him. The howling lasted for almost a minute more outside my door, before it faded away and I was left to my own devices again. I walked across to my table and my hand picked up the newspaper without my approval. My eyes scanned the heading again, as I began to skim the article for a third time. “Fedelia Sweater was found hung by some power-lines… believed to have jumped off the roof of a nearby building… reports remain unclear as to how this accident occurred… The Sweater Family have been involved in a string of incidents… Boston Police Department are investigating the incident as a possible homicide.” I put down the paper and sighed. Though I really wanted to walk away from the Sweaters and their lives, something drew me into this mystery. There was something more about this case… something that intrigued me.

PART 3: A REVEALING SWEATER

Leaving the office and taking the elevator to the lobby, I walked out onto Beacon Street. I needed some fresh air and a place to think things through. My legs continued to take me down Beacon Street and then across the road to Arlington. The familiar Public Garden greeted me and I walked straight through the gates towards the George Washington monument.

“Afternoon, Mr. Washington,” I said as I began walking along the path that circled around the monument. “Today I have a new problem for you.” I looked at the statue of the first American president on his horse, while I continued circling. “The Sweaters have just lost another family member, Fedelia – that leaves Silvester, Bernard and Cadence. You know how I tried to help them out a year back to solve the case of their family issues; well now Silvester came back trying to get me to re-join their efforts. And you see, Mr. Washington, I’m kind of thinking that I should – but there’s still the big problem of them not telling me everything…”

An old man walked by with his wife. They looked me over, probably wondering if I was just a crazy person talking to myself, I guess I wasn’t sure either. Just then I stopped and turned to look at the monument, only my eyes looked directly past it at a bright gleam of sunlight reflecting off one of the buildings.

“I felt that if I could only reach higher, I could touch the stars.” I repeated the words that Nero had written all over his apartment, as my eyes adjusted to the beam of light reflecting off the John Hancock Tower. “I felt that if I could only reach higher, I could touch the stars. Thank you, Mr Washington.”

I raced back to my office and went across to the filing cabinet. Fumbling with my keys, I finally found the drawer I was looking for and unlocked the cabinet. These were all of the unsolved cases and the biggest file had to do with the Sweater family. I flicked through the mass of pages; from when the Sweaters first graced the pages of magazines and tabloid newspapers right through to their eventual deaths.

“Sloan?” a woman called from the corridor.

“Yep,” I answered, as I continued to leaf through the file.

The door opened and Destiny walked in. “I hear Sweater has asked for your help again. What did you find?”

“Well, they’re definitely hiding something,” I stated without looking up at her. “I’m surprised you haven’t found anything more.”

“Hey, I tried using my methods, but you and the Commander think that they’re somewhat unethical.”

I looked up at her and gave a grin. “Like that’s ever stopped you before.”

She flicked her dark brown hair behind her ear and took a seat on the desk, before kicking off her high heels. “So, where are we at with them?”

“Aha!” I cheered, as I pulled out the articles I had been looking for.

“What’s that?” Destiny asked, as she leaned across to scan the magazine. “Silvestro looks to the stars.” She read, “That’s the father, isn’t it?”

I nodded, “This might be the clue we need.” I opened up the magazine to the page about the Sweaters. “Hmm… here! Silvestro Sweater has always enjoyed the limelight, but was in a bit of trouble after a night out with other high society guests turned scary… ‘He said he was going to jump! But he was laughing while he was pretending to jump off the ledge. It was really frightening!’ a party-goer exclaimed…”

Destiny sighed, as she readjusted her position on my desk. “You really believe that trash – a party-goer using the term really frightening? The magazine probably just decided they needed to back up their story with apparent evidence, so they concocted this party-goer to help build the story.” She said, brushing aside the article with a wave of her hand.

“No, look here,” I responded getting to the part that I had been looking for, “… Silvestro was escorted off the building ledge by two police officers and a fireman… he was inebriated but unhurt… ‘I was just going to show them that I could reach the stars’ Sweater told everyone while being led away from the party by his entourage… Boston Police Department have not filed charges.”

“I still don’t get it,” Destiny said, while sliding off the table and re-adjusting her skirt.

“Nero Sweater was apparently pushed out of his apartment window last year. He had the phrase: I felt that if I could only reach higher, I could touch the stars painted nine times in each room of the house.” I explained, before showing Destiny the magazine, “Then there’s this magazine that reported that Silvestro, the Sweater patriarch, said that he wanted to show everyone that he could reach the stars – that was nine years ago!”

“So you’re saying that Silvestro killed his son?” Destiny questioned skeptically, as she grabbed the magazine and waved it in front of me. “Sloan, you do know that Silvestro is dead, don’t you?”

I nodded, while taking the magazine back from her and handing her another article. “The wife – Leandra’s death. No sign of struggle, just nine bullets to the chest.”

“So the number nine is important here?” Destiny suggested.

I shrugged, “Could be, but that’s not the point.” I gestured to the article. “The uncle confessed to the murder, but claimed that it was not an act of violence. He died running into police bullets, shouting ‘She was meant to stop me!’ That’s got me thinking about all the other deaths… What if Nero wasn’t pushed but…”

A phone suddenly rang startling both of us.

“It’s me,” Destiny said, as she turned a dial on her watch. “Yes, Commander?”

“Are you still with, Sloan?” A static filled voice spoke from the watch.

“Yes, sir,” Destiny replied.

“And what’s the verdict on the Sweater case?”

Destiny looked at me and raised her eyebrow. “Well… he thinks he has a lead…”

“And what do you think?” the Commander asked, in a tone that seemed almost upset with what was happening.

Destiny shrugged and glanced at me again, before returning to the watch. “I’m not sure, sir. But Sloan’s the one who can unravel it if anyone can.”

“Yes, but he also gave up a year ago!”

Destiny looked at me, waiting for my response. The Commander and I had been at odds about this over the past year and he obviously still wasn’t going to let it go. “We’ll follow the lead and get back to you ASAP, sir,” she responded, ready to cut the call.

“Destiny,” the Commander stated in his most authoritarian voice, although some of its effectiveness was lost in the static, “Follow the lead and then kill it. You know how Sloan gets when he becomes transfixed on something. He’s been on this one for way too long. The City of Boston doesn’t need him chasing Sweaters; we have bigger fish to catch – understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Destiny replied, “If the lead goes cold, I’ll bring Sloan back in.”

“Thank you, Destiny,” The Commander signed off.

“Well, you heard the man, Sloan. We follow this lead and then we kill it,” she repeated the Commander’s words, as she put her shoes back on. “Let’s go and figure this out now, so I can get home and take these heels off for good.”

I placed the magazine back in the file. “For this one we’ll need Najwa. Pick her up and get over to the Sweaters. I think Cadence has something to say.”

“No, problem,” Destiny replied, heading for the door, “As long as I’m not going to disturb Najwa from one of her freaky rituals.”

Once Destiny left the office, I picked up the phone and dialed. There were five rings before someone answered. “Hello, Sweater residence. May I ask who is speaking?”

“Put Silvester on the phone,” I told the man.

“Who is this?” The man demanded.

“It’s Sloan. Now you’re the butler, so get your butt over to Silvester and put him on!” I commanded more forcefully this time.

“Uh… yes, sir… right away, sir.” The butler left the phone and I was left listening to his footsteps echoing on the marble floor. It took less than a minute before I heard footsteps returning.

“Mr Sloan?” The familiar desperate voice came over the phone. “They got Bernard… I don’t know where he is, but… he’s… I think they got him!”

“Sweater, listen up. Gather the rest of your family and wait for me. We’re gonna stop this, before all of you fools are dead!”

“But… I think Kolton’s taken Bernard!” He exclaimed.

“I’m coming over. Get Cadence,” I ordered before putting down the phone. Throwing on my overcoat, I left the office and walked briskly across to the lift. Getting off at the lobby, I raced out of the building and hailed a cab.

PART 4: UNRAVELED SWEATERS

By the time I got to the Sweater Family home, Destiny was already parked outside. She climbed out of her pick-up truck upon recognising me getting out of the cab.

“About time you got here,” Destiny called, as she walked over to me.

“Najwa with you?” I asked, as I strode up to the gate of the Sweater manor.

“Sure is,” Destiny replied, “Najwa! Get over here!”

I stopped in my tracks and turned to Destiny. “She’s deaf. She won’t hear you.”

A wry smile came across Destiny’s face. “I know she’s deaf, Sloan, but she can hear me just fine.”

I peered across to the pick-up truck and noticed that she was right; Najwa climbed out of the passenger side door and slammed it shut. With her long dark purple robes dragging across the floor, it seemed as though Najwa was almost gliding across to us, even though I knew she wasn’t.

I signaled a greeting to her and she nodded her hooded head. I could only see the whites of her eyes, as the rest of her facial features were hidden deep within her hood. “Destiny let her know that I need the Sweaters covered.”

“The butler?” Destiny asked.

I shook my head. “I wouldn’t think so. But you keep him under observation.”

I led the two ladies through the now opened gates and towards the front door. Finally understanding what it was that had happened to the Sweater family, I had a renewed purpose, one which I had lost almost a year ago… not lost – taken from me.

I didn’t have to ring the door-bell; the butler was already waiting for us. He bowed politely and ushered us into the grand main hall, across the marble floor and into a sitting room where Cadence and Silvester were waiting. Cadence sat as she had in Nero’s apartment a year or so ago, while her brother paced up and down, only to walk right up to me and greet me with a warm, eager handshake.

“I’m so glad you changed your mind about this,” he said with a forced smile to conceal his fear. “We’ll pay you good money…”

“I don’t want your money,” I said, cutting him off. Silvester took several steps back, as Najwa entered the room. Destiny stayed in the doorway with the butler. I observed Cadence, who seemed a little shocked, with her eyes flicking between me and Najwa.

“Who is she?” Cadence questioned, with a hint of annoyance.

“This is Najwa. She’s here to help me, so I don’t leave this case unsolved once again,” I said with a gleam in my eye. Cadence’s eyes shot back a cold look. “Najwa is deaf to the world, but she shares her gift – allowing everyone to become deaf to their world.”

“I can hear just fine,” Cadence shot back, eyeing off the hooded woman.

“Yes, so can I,” I said with a smile.

“He’s obviously assembled a team to help us,” Silvester stated, feeling a little uneasy. “We’re going to be okay, sis.”

I shook my head. “You might be, Silvester. Cadence on the other hand…”

Silvester turned to his youngest living sibling and then back to me. “What do you mean?” He turned to his sister once more. “Cadence, what does he mean?” Then back to me. “Are you accusing her of murdering my family - our family?”

I shrugged. “I was hoping she could tell us the story, because some things still don’t add up.”

Silvester dramatically turned to his sister once again. “Cadence?”

She sat in silence, but I could sense the hate emanating from her pores.

“Let me tell you what I’ve deciphered so far,” I began, which got Silvester’s attention once more, “I know about your family’s secret. We’ve known it for years. The reason I approached you was because of your father’s death leap from the aeroplane...”

Silvester looked nervous. Cadence showed no emotion.

“We’d spoken to your father a month before his jump. Told him that we were willing to train him, but the stubborn old fool said that he would do it himself, so instead of flying, he dropped like a sack of potatoes. Since then we had to find out whether any of his children were exhibiting the same powers, but we didn’t want to simply come out and ask… well, considering that we don’t want the world to know about us.”

“So… so you can fly too?” Silvester questioned.

I shook my head. “Not me. I’ve got a brain that can solve things at a quicker rate than most.”

“Most? You mean anything,” Destiny interrupted, “Think of him as a computer on steroids.”

I smiled. “Destiny over there can manipulate minds, read minds and knows over twenty different types of martial arts. Now I don’t know whether the fighting skills are a power of hers as such, but if she knows what you’re going to do as you think it and can then change your mind before beating the crap out of you in twenty different styles; I’d say that that makes her quite lethal.”

“And… and… her?” Silvester pointed to Najwa.

“As I said, Najwa is deaf, but she makes others deaf to their abilities. If you were to try and fly right now, well you’d end up like your deceased siblings.”

Silvester scanned the room, possibly waiting for someone to jump out and call, “You’ve just been Punk’d”, but it didn’t happen. “So how come it’s taken you so long to figure this out, if you’re meant to be such a brain?”

Cadence moved uncomfortably.

“I was wondering that myself. Your mother died after being shot nine times by your uncle. I’ll wager your uncle held no malice towards your mother, but she was able to manipulate people’s minds and quite possibly had some form of telekinesis… like your sister. Your mother couldn’t control her powers either and tried something too dangerous too soon.”

Silvester stared in horror at Cadence. “Is this true? Did you murder them all?”

Cadence sighed in frustration and disappointment at being caught out. “Not all of them. Zea flew to the top of the bridge on her own, but because she didn’t have full control of her powers, she just lost it and fell. Same with Aaron.”

“But he fell with Cato.” Silvester said without thinking.

“I manipulated Cato’s mind. I told him to fly up to the very top of the building and fall off. Aaron was stupid enough to follow him, probably tried to stop him on the way down and lost control. I didn’t need Aaron dead – just like I didn’t need Zea dead.”

“Didn’t need them dead? Why should any of them have been murdered?” Silvester sat down on the couch trying to absorb all of this new information.

“That’s an easy one,” I answered. “You’re sister wanted to inherit the Sweater fortune. With all of the older siblings out of the way, she would have control of the fortune.”

“Money?” Silvester rose from the couch and turned on Cadence. “You killed them all because of money? Why would you do that? We’ve got all the money we need! I would have given you your share! You just needed to ask!”

“I wasn’t going for a share, Silvester, I wanted it all!” Cadence shouted, “All these years you were all wondering whether I was truly part of this family because I couldn’t fly like father could. You never knew about mother – did you? But I had my suspicions. And then when my powers developed, I figured I would show you just what I could do.”

“She even manipulated my mind to make me get off the case.” I interjected.

“You were getting too close. I couldn’t have you getting in the way.” Cadence snapped.

“Well, now you’re going to jail.” I told her.

Cadence smiled. “How are you going to keep me there? Will the little leech be sitting in my cell for the rest of my life?”

The robed woman came forward and extended her hand. “Najwa will make you deaf to your powers. You will not hear them calling to you any longer. Najwa will see that they remain in the dark void, never to be reawakened.” Her haunting voice explained, as her hand shot over Cadence’s forehead. Cadence shrieked for a second, but then collapsed.

“What did you do to her?” Silvester ran to his sister’s side. “Will she live?”

“Don’t worry, she’ll remember everything upon waking and then she’ll torture herself trying to get her powers back. She’ll have a tough time in prison.” I told him.

“Um… excuse me, Mr Sweater. Your brother was on the phone. Um… he found himself standing on Nero’s balcony and was unsure as to how he got there. He is a little shaken by the incident, sir. I sent a driver out to pick him up. He should be here soon.” The butler passed on.

“Bernard lives?” He sighed with relief, “Thank, god!”

“So what will you do now?” I asked the eldest Sweater.

“I guess we still need help with our powers.” Silvester stated, “But we have a lot more to deal with at the moment.”

I tipped my hat at him. “Well, you know where to find us when you need it.” I left the manor with Destiny and Najwa and let the Commander know of the outcome.

“What did he say?” Destiny questioned, as she started her pick-up truck.

“Well, he didn’t apologise, if that’s what you’re asking. But he did say that we should go and celebrate with a big batch of freshly baked cookies and milk,” I said, much to Destiny’s surprise. “He just pulled them out of the oven.”

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” Destiny said mockingly, as she put the truck into gear and drove back into Boston.