The Hand

short story written in 1970 by 18 year old male of murder and crime

It was deadly quiet.  The six men who sat at the longer sides of an oaken table, three to a side, eyed each other uneasily.  The room they were sitting in was to all appearances a chamber in a private home designed for council meetings.  Which, in truth, it was.  The men who sat at the table were all well-dressed and for the most part well into their late forties or early fifties.  It wasn't infrequent that one of them would look at the empty chair at the head of the table.  Night's dark was outside the curtained long narrow windows and the chandelier brilliantly lit the Victorian styled room. 

At length, one of them spoke, a white-haired man with blue eyes which had such an unfathomable look there wasn't one in that room as they were that had ever pierced it.  "Well, " he said, "Does anyone know why we were called together tonight?"

A gray-eyed man with dark hair replied, "This is the second time in all of the council's twenty years we all have been summoned, Dr. Jayes.  Other times we have met in small groups with Scar Hand, but never together until now and seven years ago to witness the execution of Mr. Mantis."

Inevitably the six pair of eyes turned toward the empty chair directly opposite the other chair they previously had been looking at. 

A third spoke.  He was a thick set man with cold blue eyes.  "Perhaps one of us is plotting against Scar Hand's life, as poor Mr. Mantis was doing, until Scar Hand found out about it and put a permanent end to the threat seven years ago."

Dr. Jayes addressed the third speaker.  "I disagree with you, Mr. Thistle. I'm inclined to think we were called for the new heir to be declared.  We all know Mantis was, up until his death, the designated heir."

A hawkish faced person spoke, addressing the doctor, "But why has he waited these seven years, Doctor?," the speaker's green eyes flashed with malice for there had been growing rivalry between he and the doctor of late.  The speaker was about the only person there who didn't feel a wholesome respect for the doctor.  "All this time, Doctor Jayes, why has Scar Hand waited until now?"

"Calm yourself Mr. Pine," the doctor answered with a small arch of his eyebrows, " I've known Scar Hand longer than any of you."

"That's true, " a new voice said from a corner in carefully picked tones.  The new voice was a thin, sallow person with clear rimmed glasses and eyes of a curiously light purple.  "I wonder why you weren't the heir instead of Mr. Mantis then."

"I am sure Scar Hand had his reasons, Monroe, " the doctor returned, with ever so slight a touch of reserve.  Monroe Bay was the only member of the council Doctor Jayes addressed by first name, no little honor. 

The second speaker spoke again, this time to a well built flaming red-haired individual.  "You haven't said anything, John. What do you think?"

John Hawks hesitated.  Of the lot, he was the most paradoxical.  His red face, the mop of red hair and his large dark eyes gave him a bristling appearance.  Yet he preferred subtleness and reserve to what his appearance would otherwise lead one to believe.  "I couldn't say, Patrick, not really."  Mr. Hawks as usual was refusing to commit himself.

The man Dr. Jayes had called Mr. Pine now said, "No use to try to get anything more out of Hawk, Mr. Lark.  You should know by now he prefers to let someone else think of reasons why Scar Hand brought him in with the rest of us, I don't know."

Mr. Hawk wasn't entirely retiring though.  There were some people who could easily provoke him, and Nathaniel Pine was one of them.  Hawk rose to his feet, a huge figure whose face was black with rage.  It was almost ridiculous when the man replied haughtily, "Such words, Mr. Pine, do you ill.  One of these times the newspaper may be filled with items about your strangulation." 

Pine, always looking for a chance to mock anyone, was about to laugh when a voice full of authority rang from the now open doorway.  "Gentlemen, do sit down and lower your voices."

The six pair of eyes now centered on the individual who crossed the room from the doorway and sat at the head of the table.  This man was known to them only as Scar Hand, so named because his left hand had been left a repulsive mutilated object when a vial of acid shattered upon his hand. 

Scar Hand himself was a tall spare person with narrow features that gave the impression of a quiet but wily and formidable nature.  His hair was whiter than Dr. Jayes and fell cloudily to his brow.  His eyes were still vividly alive and of the darkest brown imaginable. 

"I see you all are quite anxious as to why I summoned you here, " Scar Hand smiled grimly.  "I will proceed without delay.  I had originally called this meeting in order to install a new heir to take my place at my expiration as the leader of this organization.  But a circumstance has postponed that announcement.  The circumstance, gentlemen, is that one of you are trying to kill me." 

The other six took this announcement as their natures would accept it.  Dr. Jayes and Monroe Bay didn't flicker so much as an eyelid.  John Hawk startled perceptibly.  Nathaniel Pine's lips tightened into a thin line.  Anthony Thistle smiled gloatingly at having hit the nail on the head and Patrick Lark's skin turned a shade paler. 

"I see, Scar Hand observed caustically, that you are quite surprised.  I dare say myself, I was surprised too when I perceived it.  For I thought I had impressed upon you heavily enough seven years ago what happens to those who try to disrupt the formation of our organization."

"if I may ask, Scar Hand, how was it your life was threatened?" Dr. Jayes was cool as ever.

"I will go into that later, " Scar Hand replied with a protesting wave of the hand.  "I would first like to narrate some facts. Gentlemen look at your enormous wealth. Who made it? Yourselves, under my supervision.  We are, in short, the most sought after organization by the police.  We have baffled, defied them twenty years and if you will only listen to me, we can defy them until we are in our graves.  Now stop to consider why we have not been captured.  First we are all masters in our own special areas.  We need no small time crooks to help us.  There is no one outside this room who can identify us as criminals.  If one of us is in a fix, the talents of another member will serve to extricate him."

"For example Anthony is holed up after one of his daring robberies.  We need an escape artist.  We don't need outside help for we have our own John Hawks to rely on."  "As the trail is becoming too hot for Patrick's counterfeiting presses, they are in danger of being captured with convicting evidence.  We need an expert in destruction.  So we resort to our brilliant Monroe."  "As there is some exceptionally clever detective about to discover Nathaniel as the author of the bogus paintings we sell, there is no way out except to refer the detective's name to Dr. Jayes who disposes of the pest in some way or another."  "And so on.  We all have our talents.  Combined no one can catch us.  And we cannot be identified, for anyone so unfortunate as to get a glimpse of our faces has his name promptly sent to Dr. Jayes."

Scar Hand paused, cleared his throat, then went on, "And now the main point gentlemen.  There cannot be jealousy of each other in this organization.  It will lead to quarrels, bickering and before you are aware of it, someone sends his rival's name to the police.  Now with my untimely death, you would be leaderless and fall to bitter quarrels, intelligent as you are and break up.  You wonder why.  You need information to pull jobs. I at present supply information.  Without information, no jobs, no wealth.  I intend to instruct my heir in how to obtain the information.  But I will not name in instruct an heir until you find the one who is threatening me."

"Therefore gentlemen I leave it to you.  One of you is trying to kill me.  I know it is one of you. I will explain why because I had to give my town up after the hand incident as my hand would give me away to the police.  Thus forcing me to be reclusive here at our country headquarters.  I have seen no other person for seven years except my cleaning woman and the grocer's boy." 

"Whom it is I don't know.  I am going to leave that to yourselves."

"If you value your lives freedom and wealth, then you will settle amongst yourselves who it is and promptly execute him.  On the other hand if you don't value anything then you will let me be murdered and all of you will end up going to the gas chamber or serving a life sentence. " 

"Well said Scar Hand" approved Monroe Bay.  "I can see by looking at the others we want to settle this so please give us the details." 

"The facts are brief," Scar Hand replied, in a much shaken voice.  " For the past three nights I wake up with a distinct feeling of terror.  And there above me is a descending hand.  It comes closer and closer to my throat and I can't move out of sheer terror.  And then, when I feel I cannot stand it any longer, I sit up and try to grab it.  And when I sit up it is gone.  And then I see it no longer that night." 

The others stared at him in horror with the exception of Dr. Jayes.  Even Monroe Bay was trembling.  Doctor Jays inquired solemnly, "How far above is it when it starts its descent?"

"About two feet and it is one foot lower when I try to grab it."

"And there is no one in the room after you sit up?" Monroe Bay was thunderstruck.

"Ah I can easily explain how it was done," was the reply. "This house you know, is very, very, old.   There is a secret passage which leads up from the basement to the closet in my bedroom.  It was that passage that Mantis was going to use to murder me.  I found out about the passage in time to save my life and execute Mantis though.  Thus if someone wants to murder me, they but have to come up the passage, come out of the closet which is only two feet from my bed and lower his hand.  I wake and see it lowering.  I reach up to grab it, the murderer becomes alarmed, backs into the closet and down the passage into the cellar."

"He then gets out of the basement by one of the windows he pried open in order to get in."  "I could very easily catch him or seal the entrances.  I do not dare to....I wan to see you gentlemen work your brains."

"But interposed the counterfeiter, Lark. If he goes into the closet and down the passage you would hear some noise, wouldn't you?" 

"I am old and wan, Patrick.  I can move quickly into the closet but would have to procure a light to peer down into the passage to see who it is.  As for the closet doors, there are none because I felt somehow the more secure." 

"But why did you leave the passage unblocked?" 

"I left it there in view of the fact that if the police ever got wind of me, I would have an escape route.  And now, as I am sure there is nothing else for the moment, I shall retire.  Good Night gentlemen.  Whenever you are ready to retire, your rooms are ready." 

Scar Hand had risen and turned to go when he stopped and wheeled, "Ah yes. I'll give you some facts which might help you reach a conviction."

"First, Dr. Jayes is my step brother.  We have never gotten along very well and only work together because we realize the profit in it." 

"Second, I killed Nathaniel Pine's sister." 

"Third, Patrick Lark has long wanted to be leader and was a very close friend to George Mantis."

"Fourth, my sister was married to John Hawks.  He maltreated her badly and she died of her injuries.  He fears I intend to wreak vengeance and for that, may be the guilty one."

"Fifth, I strangled Anthony Thistle's fiance." 

"And last, Monroe Bay was the one who mutilated my hand.  He had all intent to kill, as George was his dearest friend.  And now I bade you goodnight."

The room was silent after Scar Hand's departure.  Each was aghast at what Scar Hand had revealed.  They knew then they were all under Scar Hand's yoke.  Their love of wealth and fright of prison was stronger than their ravings.  They were all under that tortuous bond except for one.  And if they didn't find that one, their wealth, their freedom and even there lives would be threatened to total loss.  They knew they needed a leader and they knew only Scar Hand could provide that leader.  And one of them is threatening Scar Hand's life. 

Dr. Jayes started the discussion, "It seems, " he said with an amused smile, "we all have reason to hate Scar Hand." 

"I have a proposal," Monroe Bay said tossingly, but there was an edge of eagerness in his voice. 

"Proposal?" Patrick looked inquiringly at the purple-eyed man.

"I am positive we all wish Scar Hand's death," Monroe said with a wily smile playing about his lips.  "Why not tell Scar Hand we identified the killer and executed him but in reality who is alive and concealed some place.  That way, Scar Hand will nominate his choice, provide the necessary how of gathering information and then we would all converge upon him and slay him."   

The doctor replied frostily, "You're getting careless, Monroe.  Scar Hand will demand to see the body.  That is one thing for sure...we will have to have a body from among us. " 

Thistle spoke, "Why not select a guinea pig by drawing lots?" 

Pine opposed this course, "Why that Anthony? If one of us has to die, it might as well be the one who's trying to kill Scar Hand." 

'But," Anthony pursued his course.  "Why not my idea?  We are all killers, though the doctor has more corpses than anyone else.  What does it matter who is the body.  Drawing lots gives everyone an equal chance."

Pine's eyes lightened up with a crafty look.  "Suppose gentlemen, Anthony is the one who is terrorizing Scar Hand.  Wouldn't it be to his interest to propose his suggestion as it would greatly reduce the danger of his unveiling while his position would be perilous if we went through this in a methodical way?"

Thistle shoved his chair back and stood, livid with anger.  "You dare insinuate that, Nathaniel Pine?"  I was only looking for a less tedious way than the arduous task of a discussion." 

"Be seated, Anthony," Monroe motioned.  "Examine the facts, sirs.  There are only two persons who would have overpowering reasons for revenge that would override all thoughts of elf.  And those two are Nathaniel Pine and Anthony Thistle." 

"Patrick Lark and I would be next most logical suspects.  Where Doctor Jayes would fit I couldn't say because I lack the details there and as for John Hawk, I have no idea where he should be placed." 

The red haired escape artist suddenly burst out, "I don't know about the rest of you, but Scar Hand twisted the truth on my part.  It's true I had a wife and beat her to death but I never knew until he told us that he was her brother." 

"Come, come, surly you don't expect us to believe that enormous lie!" Monroe exclaimed.

"It's the truth!" Hawks declared vehemently. 

Pine  spoke icily, "I should like to hear what the doctor has to say about himself." 

"We never liked each other, the doctor said plainly.  "I was surprised Scar Hand didn't tell you we were both mad over the same girl and when he found out she had chosen me, he strangled her in a fit of fury." 

"You have just implicated yourself Dr."  Monroe told him. 

"Wrong, Monroe,"Why would I have revealed that unless I knew I wasn't guilty?" 

"Diversionary tactics, " Pine sneered. 

"Such daring is typical of you doctor," Monroe shook his head. "You tell us a weighty confession but then absolve yourself into telling us how guiltless you are by confessions, which I've no doubt you are." 

Suddenly the mask fell away from the doctor's face.  It was malignance itself that snarled at them.  "Condemn me, then," he cried with a terrible look of hatred.  "But first, first, all of you hear what Monroe has to say!"  The doctor a abruptly stood and walked to one of the windows, gazing out of it, his hands clasped behind his back. 

A long grandfather clock in the corner ticked away as silence invaded the room.  A full five minutes passed before anyone recovered from that terrible lasting look Dr. Jayes had unleashed. 

Anthony was the first to find his voice and said wearily, "Well, Monroe, what's the story?" 

"I won't deny George Mantis was my dearest friend." Bay answered.  "When we all came here together for the first time, I thought, as most of you did we were going to draw up plans for the biggest crime of the century.  I still see George's body sprawled out on the carpet and Scar Hand in that doorway explaining why he had shot down George.  I didn't believe Scar Hand's tale then and I don't believe it now."

"Yes I attempted to kill Scar Hand a month after George's death.  I came here alone one night wit the acid.  I waited until Scar Hand admitted me and threw the vial at his face.  His left hand flashed up and the vial smashed against it, the contents spilling over his hand and some splattering his right arm.  Scar Hand was shrieking in pain and I was moving into finish him off with my hands.  He had enough presence of mind to take up a heavy vase and bring it down on my head.  I was knocked unconscious and the next thing I remember Scar Hand was reviving me with some water.  When I sat up he had a revolver in his hand and his left hand was heavily done up in makeshift bandages.  My fury was by then rather spent, and Scar Hand assured me that had he not lost friends himself he would have finished me off.  He then reminded me of my weakness for wealth and how utterly useless it would have been to kill him.  After that I knew I couldn't try to kill him again, loathe him as I do." 

"That was then, " Lark observed.  "What about now?  You're older than anyone here except Scar Hand, Monroe.  Are you sure you're not looking for unfulfilled revenge now that you're nearing your deathbed?"

"I have been contemplating it, " admitted Bay, "But now since I know someone is trying to do it, I'm no longer concerned." 

Patrick Lark now turned upon Pine, "Well Nathaniel, what have you got to tell us?"

"I imagine some or rather one of you have wondered about the incident that forces Scar Hand to live as a recluse, " began Pine.  "You will understand why he does when you hear my story.  To begin with, Dr. Jayes was out of town, and there was a dangerous police detective who was rapidly gaining ground on me.  I appealed to Scar Hand for aid, and after masking ourselves went to town and kidnapped the detective.  Unfortunately there were some witnesses who notified the police and it wasn't long before we were being hotly pursued.  We took them into some heavy traffic and fled to my house which was nearby, abandoning the auto a block away.  The minute we were inside, Scar Hand directed me to run upstairs and change into different clothes which I did.  I was hurrying toward to stairs again when I heard a shot downstairs followed by a scream and another shot.  Scar Hand came bounding up the stairs, stopped and told me to tell the police I had heard some shots downstairs and going to see what was wrong, was met by two masked men who slugged me."

"Scar Hand then promptly brought his gun down on my head.  Afterwards he told me he fled the back entrance and as I came to some policemen were coming up the stairs.  I rose and told them exactly what Scar Hand had told me and one of them explained there had been a kidnapping.  He told me the kidnappers had shot their victim downstairs and a woman caller, whom they guessed, had called at the moment she was shot.  I was alarmed at the news of another victim and hurrying downstairs found the woman was my sister. One of them told me she had said something about her killer having a scarred hand as they came in and then died.  After the investigation was over, in which I was found to be an innocent bystander, I went to Scar Hand and accused him.  He denied that he didn't know the lady was my sister and expressed his regret.  I wasn't sure if he was telling the truth, and like Monroe, I had to let it go at that for I am a  prisoner to wealth."

"For myself," Anthony Thistle volunteered, " I am quite glad Scar Hand did away with my friend.  He had found out she was a police spy seeking into my affairs.  Luckily she hadn't secured any convicting evidence before her death.  So I scarcely have reason to kill Scar Hand." 

"But why would Scar Hand twist it into a revenge reason?", Bay queried. 

Hawks answered this, "More than likely he thought Anthony was truly in love with the spy and would want revenge no matter what."

"Well enough," Nathaniel Pine observed, then added suggestively, " Well Patrick?"

That individual snapped back, "Yes I would like to be leader but I am not so impatient as Scar Hand would have you believe, nor was I so great a friend to George Mantis."

"Liar!" the doctor cried, whirling around upon Patrick Lark.  "How, any of you, did Scar Hand find out about George Mantis's plot?  Don't try to answer it...I'll tell you!  There was an informer.  That informer was Patrick Lark!  Don't deny it, Mr. Lark, you weren't the only one in the room with Scar Hand that day.  I was visiting him when we say you coming up the walk and for some fancy or other Scar Hand told me to conceal myself behind a curtain.  I heard it all.  You told Scar Hand you were plotting with George Mantis.  You offered to turn traitor for a certain fee, and after being paid a handsome sum, told all. Including the secret passage Mantis found in some architectural plans.  You knew about the passage.  You are the one plotting against Scar Hand.  You plotted against him with Mantis and now you're doing it again!" 

Patrick Lark turned white. "No, Dr. Jayes is guilty.  Can't you see?"

"No matter!" hissed Monroe Bay.  "You Patrick are the one responsible for George's death." 

Three hands dove simultaneously into their pockets for their gun.  Monroe Bay was the quickest and shot at his target, Patrick Lark in revenge for George Mantis.

Lark's bullet went wide of its target as the gray-eyed man's aim was knocked away by the bullet from Monroe's gun.

Dr. Jayes, who had drawn his gun when he saw Lark go for his fired now and his shot told effectively...Patrick Lark went down in a heap. 

Anthony Thistle reeled in his chair and together he and the chair crashed to the floor.  Patrick Lark while missing Monroe Bay had scored a hit.  Dr. Jayes knelt over Thistle and found him dead.  A bullet had pierced his temple.  John Hawks bent over Lark who gasped with his dying breath, " I swear I'm not guilty," Patrick fell lapses dead. 

Hawk's remark as he straightened up was quite typical of him.  "Do you think the shots woke Scar Hand?"

"The walls and doors in this building are quite stout, " noted Doctor Jayes rising.  "I doubt very much if he heard them.  And even if he did I doubt very much whether he would come down.  He'll assume we did the execution." 

A look of doubt crossed John Hawks' face.  "Did we do it?  Did we kill the real plotter?"

"Why to be sure," Nathaniel Pine laughed.  "It was Patrick Lark.  You yourself heard the doctor say he heard Patrick tell Scar Hand about the passage.  Heard the doctor say he heard....Nathaniel repeated the phrase frowning, then staring at the doctor. "Why you knew about the passages!"  Doctor Jayes is the plotter!  Patrick's sworn dying words were it wasn't he."

Dr. Jayes waved the pistol he had not yet replaced.  "I cannot claim that honor, Mr. Pine.  I think though we haven't yet killed the real terrorizer.  Which one of you it is I don't know but I shall feel much safer with my gun pointed at all of you until we figure out who it is." 

"Hush!", cried Monroe.  "What's that?"

"What?" Nathaniel asked, catching his voice.  There had been something in Monroe's manner that indicated something wasn't right.

"Listen. There...it's outside the door."

And the others heard it.  There was something outside the door breathing heavily and croaking.  And every once in a while the something would thud itself against the door. 

"What is it?" cried Hawks. 

Nathaniel seized the opportunity of the rising panic in the room.  Swiftly drawing his own gun he leapt about and shot at the doctor.  Dr. Jayes faltered and fired his own gun.  Pine jerked back and sprawled out on the table.  The door at that moment burst open and there before them stood Scar Hand.  He staggered into the room, a frightening figure.  His right hand was clutching his throat and they saw to their terror as the scarred hand was slowly pushing back the right hand, the right hand was straining for its owner's throat.  "Help", Scar Hand croaked.  "I found out just now.  It's been my own hand, my own hand all this time.  Help me before it strangles me." 

The others could only stare at him in speechless horror.  For their life they couldn't move a muscle.  They saw the scarred hand slowly yielding to the strangling throat-reaching right hand.  They saw Scar Hand move drunkenly to one of the walls.  The scarred hand released the right and like a clamp with the object removed, the right hand fixed itself over Scar Hand's throat.  Scar Hand's face was purpling now as the scarred hand reached weakly up for a sword on the wall. 

And still the others couldn't budge.  Dr. Jayes had stumbled forward for a few steps clutching his bleeding side as if to help his step-brother, but unable to go farther without falling, he stood helplessly holding to to the table edge for support.  Scar Hand's face was now black, and as he grasped the sword, brought the weapon down with his failing strength and severed off the hand that was choking him. The grotesque objects grip loosened and fell to the floor.  Scar Hand looked at then, panting heavily seized by a sudden pain in his chest, started and crumpled to the floor, dead of a heart attack. 

"His right arm," gasped Dr. Jayes.  "He couldn't take himself to the hospital after the acid incident because of his fear of police inquiries.  He treated it himself with the wrong stuff.  The pain didn't stop, the burns didn't heal, he used drugs.  I warned him, he wouldn't listen.  The muscles and nerves shattered.  The arm couldn't help but stiffen into a strangling hold."  Dr. Jayes voice had been growing faint and now he too crumpled down.

Moved by a morbid curiosity, Hawks peeled back the sleeve of the right arm, revealing a discolored swollen arm covered with dying flesh and distorted with oddly twisted muscles. 

Hawks dropped the sleeve and looked around.  "The organization is no more, Monroe.  I think it is high time we retired from crime."

Monroe Bay could only nod his head and after leaving the house, the two left their life of crime.  And when the bodies were found, there wasn't anyone who could guess the truth. 

 

                THE END

Raymond L. Collins

raymondofthewoods

Began December 30, 1969

Completed January 1, 1970

copyright reserved by the publisher

Carol A Wells    

 

Author's Note

not completed yet 9 more pages to type