Archer's Paradox Chapter 5: Misfire

Jay stood at the edge of Ockstead, his eyes fixed upon the towering skyscrapers that reached for the heavens. The city stood firm before him, a dilapidated jungle of concrete and steel. The storm had cleared, allowing a feeble sun to emerge from behind drifting clouds, casting light upon the desolate streets below.

Shadows loomed over the streets, leaving only slender slivers of light that seeped through the darkness. Jay believed the city looked better at night. The decaying and neglected nature of the infrastructure was masked by the cold night. Now, however, the age of the city was on full display.

With each step Jay took, a cloud of dust rose from the crumbling pavement, thick and heavy. The sound of distant sirens echoed from street to street, a constant reminder of the lurking danger around every corner.

As he passed through the streets, following his GPS with the location Marty had sent to him, he noticed that the once vibrant walls of towering buildings were now painted with graffiti. Cracks slithered through the pavement like roots from a mighty tree extending far and wide.

Jay’s brows furrowed as he lingered on the words Marty said to him. It didn’t seem worse since the day he left. Ockstead still had its demeaning, depressing, and gloomy charm to it that took a certain level of tenacity to live in. Perhaps crime had escalated but the general standard of living hadn’t degraded since he’d left.

Despite the gloomy nature, street stalls still opened to sell their goods, malls seemed to be relatively well kept from the outside and the people on the street seemed… somewhat happy. They were certainly happier than Jay remembered.

As he walked deeper into the city, he tried to block out the intrusive voices ringing in his mind with every alleyway he passed. The darkness of glared at him from all directions as if he was an alien. He noticed a few lingering glances from the street, eyeing him. A natural habit of looking over his shoulder every few seconds resurfaced, and a shroud of tension and anxiety descended over him, clogging his thoughts from flowing, like a blocked drain.

After several minutes of searching, he’d finally reached his destination. The White Mansion. The dirt in that mansion was probably worth more than everything Jay ever owned. A total of twenty-six people populated the five floors of this exquisite home all built on the foundation of corruption and bribery.

Jay remembered how bright the lights of the mansion used to shine at night. It was the beacon of the city and together with the Davidson towers, they contributed to at least half of the light in Ockstead. On this morning, however, the mansion was desolate. The curtains covered the tall, wide windows. The front door, made from the finest wood and lined with strips of gold, was left half open like a deserted shed. An aura of dread and mourning surrounded the mansion and its yard.

Jay longed to see the day that the Davidsons and the Whites fell to their knees, the Ghost towering over them with all the power they could only dream to have. He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. This stupid place. Maybe I should just let Cupid finish his work before arresting him, he mused playfully.

Jay entered the evacuated mansion through the front door. He saw two people standing around a crime scene barred off with yellow and red tape surrounded by shards of glass and shattered porcelain all stained with streaks of blood.

“Marty! Lian! Good to see you, again!” Jay said cheerfully.

A tall, elegant woman dressed in a brown trench coat and leather boots turned around with a smile that could illuminate the entire city. Her jet-black hair was tied up in a bun neatly.

“Jay!” she replied gleefully, rushing over to give her old friend a warm hug. “Sorry, I couldn’t come by yesterday. Work calls, right?”

Jay returned the embrace but pulled away swiftly. The tender moment was cut short by the somber circumstances at hand. As much as he enjoyed the company of his old friends, being in this city only meant a higher likelihood of his ‘imaginary friends’ paying him a visit. A visit from The Ghost was something he could not be distracted with, right now.

“I’m sorry this reunion has to be this way,” Marty apologized, lifting the yellow tape to allow Jay to examine the scene. “Murder investigations aren’t suited for catch-up sessions.”

“Don’t be,” Jay said, patting his old friend on the back. “Who do we have here?”

In a scene that made Jay’s stomach twist from disgust, a lifeless corpse lay sprawled on the ground. The lifeblood had drained from her body, leaving behind a pale, bleak face contrasted with the bloodstained white dress she wore.

A gruesome arrow, its shaft splattered with blood, protruded from her chest with unforgiving precision. The red and white fletchings dangled from the shaft supposedly loosening from the shattering of the glass it had penetrated so effortlessly.

Her soulless eyes and parted lips were frozen in shock. Jay felt the tense atmosphere around him as the forensics gave him room to examine the corpse. This was a carbon copy of the type of killings Jay committed as if looking into a mirror of his past crimes. Nonetheless, he shook off the intrusive thoughts once more and focused on the task at hand.

“Jennifer White, twenty-five. Youngest of the kids,” Marty stated, handing Jay the case file.

“The other body over there,” Lian said, pointing to the other crime scene that had a similar sight to the one in front of him. “Is Hiroyuki Wan. Spider syndicate, aka, one of the ‘bodyguards’ here.”

Jay looked over in the opposite direction of the arrow and found two holes in the glass pane, one larger than the other. He walked up to it to analyze it closer.

“He’s good,” Jay said looking at the smaller of the two holes. “But he’s not that good.”

“What do you mean?” Lian asked, her brow furrowing. “They both hit their targets. Marty and I suspect that the shooter's position was about thirty-five meters out of the mansion from atop the neighboring rooftop.”

Jay looked up at the rooftop. “I don’t think so. That angle…” he clicked his tongue in disapproval. “That’s not going to make a clean shot through glass this thick. If the arrow did pierce it, the shot would have gone astray losing most of its velocity.”

Lian and Marty glanced at each other, surprised. “Well, where else could it have come from?”

Jay focused his eyes beyond the glass. The angle of impedance had to have been below fifteen degrees relative to the glass pane. There were many variables he was uncertain of and would require further testing at the range.

“That,” he said, pointing to the scaffolding structure sitting near the boundary wall of the mansion. “Was that there last night?”

“The scaffolding?” Marty asked. “Pretty sure. Scaffolding is pretty hard to take down and set up. Most contractors leave it there until they’re done with the job. There’s scaffolding pretty much everywhere on this property due to the recent renovations.”

Jay eyed the workers climbing up and mounting themselves on the planks. “It’s roughly twenty meters, has an angle of attack that’s relatively straight, and a pretty stable surface to shoot an arrow, maybe.”

“So, you’re saying he shot from the scaffolding? Why would the place he shot from be important?” Marty asked. “Shouldn’t we be focused on the two people Cupid killed?”

Jay sighed. “One of these was an accident, Marty.”

He re-examined the holes. “The smaller one here is the precise shot, like a bullet. Right angle, right velocity, right broadhead. The bigger one was a mistake. Making mistakes when you’re shooting through glass tends to alter the arrow’s flight and hit an unintended target.” He flicked his gaze between the two bodies laying on the ground. “We need to first find out which one he intended to kill before we move forward. The position and the angle of the shot will tell me which one was a direct hit and which one was a deflected one.”

Lian chimed in. “So, if what you’re saying is right, then who exactly was Cupid’s second intended target? Surely, you don’t fire a second arrow for fun?”

“The chaos from the first shot must have thrown off his line of sight of his target,” Marty added. “Which one here, do you think, is the intended target?”

Jay stroked his beard. “If it’s from the scaffolding, it’s absolutely Jennifer White. If it’s from the fence or the neighboring rooftop, it’s probably Wan. But that angle of impedance… It’s possible for sure, but the skill it would take to pull that off from so far away… at least ten to twelve years of archery experience. I might even struggle with that shot.”

“I’d bet on Wan, honestly,” Lian said, she said pointing to the arrow piercing Wan’s neck. “If you want to kill someone as quickly as possible and eliminate all possibility of any protection, you don’t go for the chest; you go for the neck.”

“Seconded,” Jay replied. “That’s why I’m still considering that angle from the rooftop, as you said.” He motioned for a pair of latex gloves to be given to him. Slipping them on, he slowly ran his fingers down the shaft of the arrow and around the feather fletching. “One of you two, tell the commissioner that you need to take these to your specialist for examination. Bring it to the range and we’ll test it. There’s only so much I can do here without my stuff around. Right now, there are too many working variables here.”

Both of them nodded at once and called for another woman.

“Commissioner Samantha Writherman, this is Jason Stones, our archery expert that I called in. He’s a close friend of mine,” Marty said.

“Pleasure to meet you, Commissioner,” Jay said, offering his hand.

The commissioner, an elegant and reserved woman with black hair dropping down to her shoulders, returned the gesture with a firm grip that nearly stopped the blood from flowing to Jay’s hand. Her gaze locked with Jay’s. “I hope you’re as good as they say you are, Mr. Stones.”

Her cold gaze was a testament to the horrors she’d witnessed over the years. She’d been promoted into her current role, which Marty currently occupied, a few years after the Ghost had left. While she was unaware that Jay was the Ghost, she was aware of his communication with Marty and Lian. In some instances, she even allowed the Ghost to visit the crime scene privately and gain access to stored evidence.

Jay chuckled heartily, entirely unfazed by her intense gaze and firm grip. “I am, Commissioner. I just need to take one of these arrows to my range for further testing, if that’s alright.”

The commissioner held his gaze for a little longer. She released her grip and shrugged. “Do whatever you want to put this guy behind bars. Just make sure my ass is safe in all your shenanigans, okay? I only bend the law if it’s worth the risk. Make this worth the risk.”

I suppose being the commissioner has its perks, Jay thought. He thanked the commissioner and proceeded to the site of the third murder. It was a few blocks outside the premises of the mansion in a narrow alleyway. This victim was clearly killed intentionally. The arrow pierced his neck firmly, entering through one end and exiting through the other. He lay sprawled across the cracked pavement, a shattered bottle of beer lying next to him.

“Who’s this?” Jay asked. “He looks familiar.”

“John Brown, supposedly also from the Spider syndicate,” Lian stated. “Seems like we have a general trend with Cupid.”

Jay leaned beside the body examining its flight path. This one was harder to pinpoint since the angle of attack was not limited by glass or any other obstacle. Nonetheless, the archer was skilled enough to hit a shot with deadly accuracy from twenty meters away.

“What’s the connection between the Spider syndicate and the Whites?” Jay asked, forgetting his role as an external consultant in the murder.

“No clue. There probably is one considering all the sketchy dealings we uncovered ten years back,” Marty said. “We’re going to have to revisit those discarded case files we used back when you were the Ghost.”

“It looks like the same arrow. The one from White should be enough,” Jay said. “Meet me at the range when you’re done here. I can’t do anything more with my expertise here.”

“I’ll just wait for Lian to finish up here with the forensics. I also need to interview the Whites and a few of the guests who have shown up to take statements. I’ll let you know what we find.”

Jay’s brows furrowed. “Why? I’m an external specialist, not a detective assigned to this case.”

Marty scratched his head. “Oh, right. Sorry… Force of habit with you being here and all…” He waved his hand dismissively. “Nevermind. I’ll bring the arrows over when I am done.”

Jay nodded and greeted the two of them. On his way out of the alleyway, he turned to look over his shoulder. “Does Katie know?”

Marty shook his head. That was what Jay suspected. Most of the time, the news wouldn’t reach the village until vacation season when city folks would come to visit. So, the person to deliver the bad news to Katie would have to be him. The retired vigilante gulped knowing the difficult conversation ahead. Jay wished he had the strength of a doctor. He wondered how they could so empathetically deliver bad news on such a regular basis without being mentally tormented themselves; a skill he could only wish for.

“This is going to be one long Valentine’s Day.”

Questions (Optional)

1. Are the conclusions that Jay comes to well-explained?

2. Does the city give off a haunting atmosphere?

3. Is the descriptions in this chapter enough or too much for a new setting?