I swear, next time I see you, I'll have something good, but for now, here's part 2
The TV, which gave a warm, comforting glow. The news, a slice of depression with your morning coffee. I was just happy to have something to occupy my mind. I've discovered that I don't like to think, thinking hasn't worked out for me so far. The newscasters threw from and actor going to rehab, to police looking into a break and enter. I didn't pay much attention, until the security camera footage came on, and I noticed that the character on screened, wore a very familiar robe, and had a very familiar deranged look about him. I panicked, The bubbling stress that had been underlying sense I woke up, the first time. I reacted, I grabbed the DV tape I left on the table, and ran to the door. However before I could open the door Alex came back into the room.
“ I need to leave,” I said before she could open her mouth
“ I need to find out whats on this tape,”
“It can't wait?” She asked
“ Apparently not,” I said, and then I moved to the door knob, however I knew that I Just couldn't leave, after all Alex had done for me, She was there for me. I walked to her, and looked her in her eyes,
“ I'm not good at these types of things,” I began
“ How would you know,” She replied, and I had to think about that for a second.
“ Okay, good point,” I said, “ What I mean is, I don't know what to say in this type of moment, so forgive me for this. I need to leave, because this tape, is the most important thing to me right now. I need to find out who I am, and this tape is the key,”
“ How do you know it's this tape though, It could just be a mistake, or it may not have the information you need,”
``Alex, whoever gave me the tape, stuck it down my throat and made me vomit it up, I think whoever gave me this tape knew the information was important, and gave it to me specifically, I'm sorry, I really am, I just need to go. Thank you,” I said, “ For everything. I looked at Alex, and she looked at me, this was the first time I actually stopped and looked at her. She was angelic, Her eyes were bright with a fierce intensity behind them.
“Where are you going to go?” She asked
“I'm going to find something that plays this tape, and then, I guess I'm headed to LA, people know me there, and I may be able to find out what's going on,” I' pried myself away from her and went to the door once again. I didn't want to go, I wanted to stay here, with her. A connection I had never felt. I turned the knob and opened the door to the cold winter air.
It was colder then I remembered, as if the city wanted to freeze me to the spot. To hold me back from whatever the truth was. And then, I began to walk. Clad in the same robe, I walked, in the same barren landscape I had left not even 24 hours ago. Even though, in my previous nights journey, I had seen more of the city, I still didn't have a clue where anything was. So I began to hail a taxi. The only problem with this tactic, was that there were no cars around to hail. However it made me feel as if I was accomplishing something, as if the flagrant waving of my hand, brought me closer to where I needed to be. For all I knew, it was. Seconds passed, Minutes passed although in reality it was hours before I saw the same block of stores I saw before, complete with police. I began to realize how similar I looked to the footage I saw on the television. Within the line of gawking pedestrians I spotted a cab, complete with driver. As the masses were distracted, I slipped into the cab, and waited. After minutes of looking at a group of people looking at a building, the cab driver slipped back into the drivers seat, looked back, and, with a start, noticed a rather dishevelled looking man in his back seat.
“Do you know the nearest place I can get a DV Tape player?” I asked
“Yeah, there's a Unix across town that sells 'em,”
“Take me there,” I asked, just a tad too forcefully
“Okay,” The cabbie said slowly. And then, in an awkward, almost sickly silence, we drove, across the city, to a plain looking store, with an abnormally large sign, in big, blue block letters, it said
“UNIX.” Now I'd never seen a Unix before, and quite frankly, didn't know the existed. As we pulled closer to the building, I noticed the meter in the car, was sky rocketing, In the line of all my problems, this was the least important, yet it is the most pressing.
The cab stopped, and the driver stops the meter
“32.50,” He said
“ I don't have that much,”
“ How much do you have?”
“ I'm broke,” I confessed
“ Then why did you get a cab?”
“ I didn't think that far ahead,”
“ I can't exactly keep you in the cab... you look like you're having a rough one, so just go, and I'll pretend this didn't happen alright?”
“ Thanks,” I looked around for a name, and found a copy of his license taped to the back of the chair, “ uh, Norman,”
“ Not a problem, now get the hell out of my cab.” So I got the hell out of his cab.
The Unix was a small building, and if it wasn't for the large blue letters at the front of the building, it would camouflage into the grey wall beside it. I walked through the door, the bell chimed, the clerk woke up.
“ Welcome to Unix, can I help you?” \The man said, about as enthused as a cat looking at, well, anything.
“ I need a player for a Mini DV tape,” I said. Knowing that I was so close to the truth of who I was, and what was going on, was dizzying.
“ What type of Mini DV tape?” he said. I took out the tape.
“ This kind,” I said and showed him the bane of my current existence.
“ They don't make those anymore,” He said.
“ Could you check in the back please, I just really need to know what's on this tape.”
Then inexplicably, the clerks face went white, whiter then the snow, whiter then any living face has the right to be. He then, very quickly, went to the back of the room. Weeks passed, years passed, but in reality it was only minutes until he came back with a player that fit my tape.
“ H-h-here, take it, just take it,” he quivered
“ How much?” I asked .
“ Oh, for Christ sake just leave,”
“ Thanks,” I said, perplexed, but I didn't have time to dwell on the odd actions of people I didn't know. I had the means to play the tape, This wonderful tape, the tape that's kept me within arms reach of sanity and knowledge. I quickly found an alley where I felt it was quiet enough to listen, to finally listen. I opened the player and slid the tape in. This time, it slid in perfectly. I closed the cover, put it next to my ear and hit play. I waited, waited for sound, waited for answers, waited for those delightful electric signals to fly through the player and tell me what I needed to know. But no sound came out. Nothing. Not a Goddamn thing. I hit stop, then play again. I took the tape out and flipped it over. I shook it.
Nothing? I thought
Nothing. I thought
Nothing! I thought
There had to be an explanation. What was the meaning of this? Why God, why wont this fucking thing play. And then it hit me. Hit me like cold water. Took my breath away. I flipped the player over and found the battery compartment, slid the door open, and found, nothing. No batteries, the tape can't play without an energy source. God Dammit, God dammit all to hell.
I felt like breaking down, giving up, crying out. I was alone, scared, cold, frightened, and dumb. I needed batteries. I stood there, then I leaned there, then I sat there, then I lied there. Years passed, decades passed, but in reality, who knew? I got up, brushed off the cold, and walked. I needed a convenience store. A Dollar store, I needed to find batteries. Cars passed along the road, seeing for brief seconds at a time, a man in a robe defeated and lost. I hated every single one of those people. They knew what was going on. They knew exactly who they were, what there were doing, and where they were going. They all had families and memories. I had a robe.
It was snowing large, snow globe like flakes fell lazily to the ground. Hiding me from sight, I blended into the walls. I was no one. I stopped paying attention to the stores and walked. My feet were numb to the cold. I trudged through. Buildings blended into one another, cars became one massive blur of colour. The snow piled high. It was snowing at a torrid pace now. Piling to may waist and higher. Walking became impossible. I tried to work my way above the mass that threatened to envelope me in its shocking whiteness. I climbed faster and faster. It piled higher and higher. I felt colder then I had felt ever. Once again I felt alone. I am going to die here, in this cold dome. Lack of hope. I gave up, then and there. As I waited for the snow to build up and end this damn existence, I felt a sharp pain in my side, like a blunt force trying to break me in half. I looked around, but couldn't move my head. It hit me again, and then again. The snow stopped falling, and began to melt rapidly, but instead of feeling a renewed hope, I flt the opposite, I felt as if something very bad was going to happen very soon. It was at this exact moment, at this exact thought, when I woke up, still in an alley, still really cold, still without batteries, but with one notable addition. A very irritable looking police officer with his boot square in my rib cage.
My heart sank, I knew exactly why he was here. I had stopped moving, gotten to complacent, and this man, clad in blue, gun by his side, wanted to take me in for break and enter of that stupid electronics store.
“ Problem officer?” I asked about as convincing as I could.
“You want to come with me sir?” He said.
“ Not in particular, but I'm assuming I have very little choice in the matter?”
“ You're a smart one, ain't ya? Now get in the car,” So I got in the car, with my luck I would've tried to run and got shot, 'cause that's just the kinda day I'm having. He brought me to your standard issue police cruiser, he even helped me into the backseat. He got into the drivers seat, and we were on our way.
“ So why am I being taken away from my alley?” I asked, knowing the answer full well
“ We just want you t answer a couple of questions, won't take more 'an a couple of minutes,” This was it, it was over, I'm going to jail, and no closer to finding out what was on that tape. I panicked, I began to sweat, I must of looked nervous or guilty, because the officer began to speak again.
“Everything's gonna be alright man, we're just picking you fit the description of a break and enter suspect. Stole a tape player. Just by looking at ya, I can tell you don't need a tape player,” He then laughed a little and focused on the road again. That was it, that was me, I can't lie, I'm no good at. So I shut up, and thought
, tried to work out a way to get out of this situation, unfortunately, not a damn thing came to mind. So I waited. Knowing your fate makes it easier to cope with. It's like when you're told you only have 3 weeks to live, only a little less fatal.
We pulled up to the police station, he got out, opened my door and escorted me to the door. Fear caught in my chest, just because I could cope with it, didn't make it any less frightening. The main doors to the precinct opened, and there milled about more police officers then I thought existed in Detroit. He marched me to a chair, and I could feel hundreds of eyes on me. Staring a hole in the back of my head. I could feel the head. Once again, I waited. This time for another officer to, I assumed, ask questions. A very official man came to meet me, around 40, time had been unflattering to his waistline. However all of the imperfections made him seem more intelligent and official, about as official as one can get. He sat in the chair across from me.
“I'm Detective Dafoe,” he said, “ I need to ask you a couple of questions,”
“ Ask away,” I replied. My hand gripped the tape player in my pocket.
“ Were you aware that an electronics store was broken into?” He asked.
“ Yeah, I heard about it on the news this morning,” I said
“ Where were you at 3:30 am last night?” This was it, I had to choose whether or not to tell the truth, or try to lie my way out of it.
“ I was sleeping, I was over at a friends house,” Here goes nothing.
“ Then why were you sleeping in an alley when Officer Riley picked you up?”
“ I was walking down the street to buy batteries, I sat down to take a break and I must of fallen asleep,”I said. At least that was kind of true.
“Then why the robe?” He asked. I blanked, I didn't have a clue on what to say after this.
“I was just going around the corner, and thought I would be back in a couple minutes,” Take note kids, this is how not to get out of being arrested. The detective looked me over with a very hard look on his face. I knew he knew I made it up.
“ Come with me,” he said. SO I got up and followed him. He brought me to a back room, complete with a small T.V. I knew what was coming, but I couldn't stop it. Like being in a car crash, everything moved in slow motion, but you can't do anything about it.
He pointed to a chair, so I sat down. He then put a tape into the TV's VCR. On the screen played a black and white, poor quality security tape, the same tape that was played on the news earlier this morning. He let the loop play twice, I looked at the window, picked up a rock, broke the window, stole the tape and left. I looked at the window, picked up a rock, broke the window, stole the tape and left. For something I wanted to forget, I remembered it clearer then anything.
“ Is that you?” He said very bluntly
“ Yeah,” I confessed. I can't argue with cold hard fact in video form.
“ Why did you feel the need to break into an electronics store and steal a tape player?” He asked
“ I needed to play a tape,” I finished lamely.
“That badly?” He asked
“ Apparently.” I said
“ You know there is no way that's going to hold up in court right?”
“I didn't expect it to,” I said
“ Alright,” Said
“ Look,” I said in a last ditch effort to salvage any remaining hope for my case, “ I'm a detective from LA, If you guy's look up my file, it should be there, Something should be there at least,” I said, It was a longshot, but that's really the only ones I can afford to take.
“ Alright,” He said again, “Stay here for a second.” So I was left there, alone and guilty. I picked the tape player up out of my pocket, and looked at it. As if looking at it hard enough would cause it to turn on. It didn't. So I just sat there for Until he got back
Detective Dafoe closed the door behind him, leaving the security tape, and quite possibly, the oddest man he's ever met behind. Now being a detective in the Detroit police department, Dafoe was privy to many a strange character, the insane, the drunk and the homeless were always interesting characters. However this man was something else. Obviously insane, but insane with reason. To go this far for a simple recorder, the man must have some sort of reason. Dafore turned into the lounge where three or four others he'd met but never talked to sat there and talked about frivolity. Dafore, while he worked for the police department, was more of a freelancer, only came in on the important things. He walked to the coffee pot off to the side, where another person he'd never met waited for the pot tp stop dripping.
“How's it going detective?” He asked
“Seen better days,” he replied nonchalantly
“ I hear ya,” He said. This was followed by silence for quite a while until the other officer spoke up again
“ So who's the guy you got stuck with?” He asked
“ It's the guy who broke in to the electronics store last night,”
“ Is he as nuts as everyone's been saying?” he asked
“ I think so,” Dafoe replied. It was by this time when the pot stopped dripping and the could retrieve there coffee. Styrofoam cup in hand, Dafoe walked to the File room, where every man women and child in Detroit, who had a record, lived. Dafoe sipped his coffee and began to talk to the file clerk.
“ I was wondering if you could get me the file of the guy I'm questioning right now,”
“ Isn't he from LA,” She asked
“ Can't we just get it transferred. I thought that was the whole point of this internet thing,”.
“ Okay, what's his name?” She asked
“ Conor,” Daofe replied
“ I need a last name,”
“ So do I,” he said “Kid says he's a detective from LAPD, that might narrow your search down a bit.” And it did, not five minutes later, the clerk pulled up a file, complete with picture
“ This him? She asked, and there, staring Dafoe right in the face, was the black haired blue eyed, man sitting in his questioning room.
“ Can you print it off?” He asked
“Just a second,” And, in just a second, he was holding his complete file. Still sipping from his Styrofoam cup. He began to look it through. And in that instant, he knew more about Conor, then Conor did.
In my little room hours passed, days passed, but in reality it was only minutes before the detective returned.
“ Okay,” he said, “ Empty your pockets.” So I did, there was no use in fighting it anymore. I put the player, complete with tape on the table, and waited.
“ Is that it?” he asked
“ Yeah,” I said
“ Is this the player you stole?” He asked
“No, this is a different one, the tape wouldn't fit in the other one.”
“ All this for a player that doesn't work. Shame.”
“ You have no idea.” I said
“ So what does this tape say then?”
“ I don't know.”
“ You don't know? What's stopping you?” He asked
“ Batteries,” I said
“ It's always the little things. Huh?”
“ Yeah,” I said. He then took my tape, my player and left the room again. Leaving me in the room with my thoughts once again. I hated my thoughts. Now in this desperate, hopeless situation, I was left alone. I immediately thought about running, but why? I needed that tape. So running couldn't help me anyway. So I sat. And I waited. And I hummed. And I panicked. This is how it ends, me in a goddamned police cell. Time passed again. I had lost all track. My clock started to drift. Then as if nothing happened, Dafoe walked back into the room. Tape player still in hand.
“ Here,” he said extending the player to me, “ Complete with batteries,” I died a thousand ecstatic little deaths. Finally, after what seemed like forever, I had my answers. I didn't immediately play it though. I waited. Waited for something to happen. As if it was still to easy to just have the tape. Paranoia was setting in deeper then I thought. I pushed the play button. Time stood still, There was background sound for seconds before anyone started talking, and then, in a deep, slow, augmented voice, began to speak. Not the voice of a person, not the voice of humanity. It was the voice of hatred, the voice of darkness, the voice of Satan himself.
“ Hello Conor. That is your name, the caller did not lie to you. I can imagine that you're terribly confused right now, but don't worry, I have all the answers. However, the question is whether or not I'm willing to tell you. You've been on my trial for far too long, and quite frankly, I'm a little tired of it. I've injected you with a mind altering drug, Lacuna, in case you were wondering, to make you simply forget me. I've put you in the city of Detroit so that you can start a new life. I'm giving you a second chance. A new life. I've cut all ties from your previous life. You've quit your job, cancelled all your cards. I even took care of your wife. Thanks to me however, you don't know her. She begged me you know, Sobbing the entire time. Pathetic waste of humanity, I never liked her anyway, it was the most satisfying thing I've ever done. You are welcome. There is a reason I'm telling you this Conor, you have two choices, You can live the life I've set for you, stay in Detroit, I've left you the total of 5 million dollars in a locker in The Wolverine packing company at 2535 Rivard, you already know the combination. Or, you can come find me, Sherman Oaks of Highway 101, you already know the address. What's more important to you Conor? A life, or revenge for a women you don't even remember. I hope to never see you again.”
Silence, silence means contentedness, there's nothing to say in a situation. The silence the tape was not this. It was a sickly, long, unpleasant silence. I sat there, I couldn't put the player down, I waited for a longer explanation, I waited for the April fools joke to reveal itself. It didn't. Dafoe was the first one to break the unfortunate silence,
“Who was that?” he asked. I didn't answer, I couldn't, the answers got lodged in my chest and wouldn't come loose. “ Are you okay?” Dafoe asked . No I wasn't. I was at a loss. I had been given a choice, an ultimatum. A fortune of five million dollars to simply shut up and stay put. Make a new life. I could take the money, meet up with Alex again, and maybe, just maybe settle down. Keep the past in the past. Or, find a way to get to LA, and find some arbitrary human being, who killed a women I don't even know. The choice was obvious, I thought. Dafoe spoke up again.
“ Are you okay,” he asked again.
“ Yeah,” I finally said
“ What are you going to do?”
“ What do you mean,” I asked
“ Are you going to take the money, or go to LA?”
“ Aren't I under arrest?”
“ You were, until an insane guy killed your wife and left you a fortune to stay put,” I sat silent again. Choices are a part of life, The strongest principle of growth lies in human choice. you need to choose where to live, where to learn. Where to eat, or where to sleep. Not many, however, are given a literal choice, of a life and a death.
“ I need to go,” I finally said
“ Where,” Dafoe asked
“ I don't know,” I answered. Dafoe stood up, picked me up out of my chair, marched me out the door and to a car that looked far to normal for a police car.
“Get in,” He said.
“ Get in,” So I got in the passengers seat, and he got in the drivers seat, he started the car, and I looked out the window. I was lost in thought. Choices, I hate choices. I'm not good at them. I don't think I'm good at them anyway. Do I really need to look for this guy, is it that important? Yes it's unfortunate that he killed my wife, but I don't know her anymore, she was the only remaining tie to my past life. If she's not here, is my past life really mine? We'd been driving for a while without talking, I had questions but I didn't care to ask. I had my own problems to muddle over without wondering where this guy I'd never met is taking me, I prepared for the worst however, when the glass is half empty, you can't drown. Minutes passed Hours passed, but in reality it was minutes before he stopped at a completely plain, nondescript building.
“Where are we?” I asked
“I don't understand,” I said
“ Come inside,” We got out of the car and walked through the door, to a plain interior. Plain hallways led into plain rooms. We came to an elevator, and waited. Walked inside the elevator and waited, Dafoe hit the basement button, and we waited. The door dinged, we walked outside of the elevator, into a very large, very cold room, with what must of been hundreds of small doors.
“Conor, your wife is dead,” he said.
“ So I've heard, I replied.
“Why doesn't this register to you?” He asked, fair question, I'd been trying to answer that for the last two days.
“ Because I don't know her, I don't remember her, She didn't even exist until a couple days ago in my world. I can't even tell you her name.” I said
“ Maybe this will jog your memory a bit,” And in his hand he held a folder. He gave it to me and I opened it. Staring back at me, was me. A picture, dressed as a police officer. Information, this was what I wanted all along, this was me.
“ Wha-,” I began to ask but I was cut off
“ You have a file form the LAPD, we had it transferred, your story checks out, detective.” Dafoe said. I took a moment to look over who I was. I had a name, Castle, Conor Castle. I really lived in LA, I really did have a wife. And I really did lose her. When a rush of blood goes to your head, you feel dizzy. Cut off from the world for that couple of seconds before you calm down. When a rush of information goes to your head, you don't calm down as quickly. Memories flooded back to my mind. Graduation from high school, first day of police college, promotion to detective, My wedding day. My wedding day, a small white church, filled to capacity with friends and family, me in a plain black tuxedo. It didn't matter what I wore, this wasn't about me. All the patrons waited with baited breath for the centrepiece to this beautiful moment. Then, with the fanfare of piano and cheering, she walked the corner. White and flowing, she looked like angels had look. Golden hair, blue eyes welled with tears of joy. While everyone was looking at her, she was looking at me. She walked the aisle until she was right in front of me. I remember now. I remember her. Every line etched into her beautiful face, was now stuck in my mind. I swore from that moment on to never forger her again. Then, at that very moment, it hit. Like a tidal wave, like a brick. She was gone, gone forever, taken from me by some mad man I'd never met, with some assumed grudge against my happiness. I hated him. I couldn't balance out my feelings, overwhelmed with sadness for the one person I swore never to lose, and the hatred over the man that took her from me. I collapsed into the corner. I was uncontrollable, Daofe looked on with the patience of a saint. I sobbed uncontrollably, I pounded the walls like a moody teenager fed up with the world. A Decade passed, a millennium passed, but in reality it was only minutes before my mind was set on my plan. I would go to LA, I would find whoever did this to her, to me, to us, and kill him. I stood up, wiped the tears from my eyes and looked at Daofe, still standing in the same spot he was a millennium ago and looked at me.
“ I'm sorry Conor,” He said solemnly
“ Thank you,” I said, “ For this, for the tape player, for just about every good thing that's happened to me this week,”
“ Conor, I didn't just being you here to show you the file, I could have done that at the station. I came here for something else,” Dafoe's fatherly looks faded into a state of deep sadness.
“ What?” I asked, and Dafoe led me to a drawer, at the far back wall and stood there. With a heavy sigh, he pulled the drawer open. There cold as ice, stripped of everything but her smile, the smile I now remembered so well, was my wife, dead and cold.
“ Why- Why is he here, I don't get it, why isn't she home, in some place a little more dignified,” Rage, my new emotion was rage.
“ It was in her last wishes to be brought here,”
“ That doesn't make sense, why here?” I asked
“ Don't know, we just fallow the wishes,”
“ Why hasn't she had a funeral yet?”
“ Part of the last wishes, we weren't to bury her until her husband showed up and signed the paper,”
“ Give me the paper then,” Dafoe disappeared into the back room for several minutes. I looked over at my wife. Her eyes were dead but I still saw flashes of the brilliance I once knew. I had to get to LA, I had to find the address I had to find whoever did this to me, and return the favour. Dafoe returned with a clip board and pen and pointed to the spot where I needed to sign. I did it without hesitation. I gave it back to Dafoe, who looked over it, making sure it was signed properly, so they could finally put my wife where she belonged. Dafoe sighed again.
“ I'm sorry about this,” He said.
“ It's not a problem, can we just get her out of here,”
“ Yeah, right away,” Dafoe put down the clipboard and searched through his pocket.
“ And Conor,” He said, “ I'm sorry.” Bang. A blinding white flash, combined with blinding pain, and a defining sound. Bang. I crumpled to the floor, Bang. I opened my eyes and standing there, gun in hand, and the saddest look a man can give, was Dafoe.
“ Wh- Wh-,” I spit out blood and choked, “ Why?”
“ I'm sorry,” Dafoe picked up the clip board and showed it to me one last time
“ You just signed a confession stating that you murdered your wife, I was told to have you, specially, to sign it, and then to make sure you couldn't repute it. I'm sorry,” He said once again. He moved out of my sight and up the stairs to the ground floor. This was it, it was over. I had lost a game I didn't want to play. Time passed, I'm not sure how much. I tried to crawl, but it was no use. I was dead. I'm sorry, those were the last words I'd ever here. I began to smell burnt toast. Smoke filled my vision. A red haze. Dieing is peaceful.. It's a cliche but nonetheless true. Red haze turned solid dark. I'm sorry. I really am.
Detective Dafoe had just killed a man. Conor Castle lied bleeding on the floor of a morgue. His problem was taken care of. Dafoe climbed up the stairs and returned to his car. Went into the backseat, and grabbed the gas can he kept in case of emergencies. Dafoe was disgusted with himself. To string this man along for this length of time, giving him hope and then ripping it away with the sound of a gunshot. I'm a terrible person, he thought. It had to be done though, It was either Castle or him, and he liked himself better. Dafoe poured the gas all around the building, through the door, and back down to the basement, He'd make sure that Castle wouldn't make it out. Back at the car he popped the cigarette lighter and waited for it to heat up, he'd throw it into the gas and drive away. Don't look back, he thought. One of the most obvious signs of an arsonist is that he stands by to watch his work. Don't make the same mistakes. The lighter popped, Dafoe picked it up, and help it against the gas trail. It lit. He raced back into his car, turned the key, and sped off back home. He'd done it. Castle was dead, or in the process of dieing. He could rest now. It was over. Daofe pulled into his driveway, leapt out the door with the car running, and raced inside. Fear was replaced with anticipation. Dafoe ripped the door to his house open, and sped to his coffee table. Where he had left his tape player. Identical to the one Conor had, Dafoe picked it up and played through the message once more, to make sure he had done everything correctly.
“ Hello detective, you're probably wondering about the whereabouts of your wife and children, they're fine, alive, and currently asleep. To get them back, you must do one simple task. Today you will meat a man by the name of Conor Castle, he will be rather dazed and confused, and he won't know who he is. To see your family again, Detective Dafoe, you must kill Conor Castle before he makes it to his destination. How you do it, is up to you.