Characters:

Oliver Wendigo, known as Cowboy, who is gifted with visions, not of his own control, It was revealed his visions are often mingled with one or more past and/or future visions in the background.
Police Detective, Art Geiger, who previously worked with Wendigo on a case.
Sergeant Edward Mars

Last time: Seeking a kidnapped young girl, Wendigo and Geiger searched Bridgeport’s South End. Wendigo revealed a vision of his concerning an unreal horse, with people dancing to an old tune in the background.

Meanwhile, CHAPTER THREE begins in the West End of the city.

Anna Karena had no brother named Stepan. She had no lover, like Count Alexei Kirrllovich, particularly Alex Bronsky, from the WNAB newsroom, and no husband such as Alexeo Karenin.

Yet, for her TV News persona, she selected the name, Karenina. It smacked of elegance and intrigue.

Bronsky was having one of his usual disputes with Karenina.

“Why aren’t you satisfied with reading my copy in the Newsroom? You’ve become a prominent figure here, Anna.”

“It’s Karenina. And I want to do investigative reporting.”

“Just like every comedian wants to do tragedy. And vice versa.’

“Look, Alex, we got a story out there and I’m going to follow it and that’s that!”

“Just make sure you come back in one piece, An-I mean, Karenina!”

Alex knew he couldn’t talk Anna out of anything when her mind was made up. He sure couldn’t nursemaid this strong-willed woman. Yet, he vowed to do whatever he could to protect her, if only this newsroom did not keep him so chained to his desk.

The kidnapping of the Winslet girl continued to make front page headlines. Anna was bound and determined to insert her name in this story and prove her worth to the newsroom in a radically new light.

Her first instinct was to go to the girl’s mother, but ongoing police presence deterred her from it. Right now, any more intrusion might impact on the young girl’s safety.

She’d bide her time, wait for the right moment.

She had no real starting point, yet the whole city could be holding secrets. She needed someplace quiet, someplace to think things out. Anything but the newsroom.

Whenever she needed thinking room, she always found herself at the abandoned stretch of land over the South Side Bridge. She had plenty of room to walk, to think, to formulate.

Driving over the rickety old bridge, she saw the car driven by Geiger. She parked alongside, exited, and followed their visible trail to a splintery old platform. The two were standing by it.

Geiger instantly recognized Anna as Karenina, the local news reporter.

“This is the site of the old merry-go-round,” she said.

“Yeah,” said Geiger. “And you’re awful grown up and many years late to buy a ticket.”

Wendigo tipped his hat and shook her hand.

“Nice seeing you again, cowboy!” she said.

“Karenina’s okay,” said Wendigo. “I’ve helped her before. Usually, she’s behind a desk.”

“I’ve decided to broaden my horizons,” she smirked.

Geiger spoke sternly. “Any information you gather, anything you report, has to be filtered through me.”

“Of course. Now, if you’ll just tell me what you two are doing here…”

Wendigo explained the situation to her. “I figure the horse image was that of a carousel horse, like the ones that used to be here.”

Anna asked, “And the music?”

Geiger jumped into the conversation. “There used to be an old dance hall here. You know, where couples slow danced, actually touched one another, and fell in love.”

“The music you heard,” replied Karenina. “What was the song?”

“I don’t know, “ said Wendigo. “It went something like this: da-da-dum dum da duh duh dum…Oh, I don;’t know.”

“You sure are no singer, cowboy!” she laughed.

“Never claimed to be,” said Wendigo.

“Well,” said Geiger, “Looks like we hit a dead end.”

“Maybe not,” said Karenina, “Just follow me. I think I know someone who could help us.”

Geiger and Wendigo followed Karenina’s auto. She parked in front of an apartment that had gone into disrepair a couple of decades earlier.

“The elevator stopped working awhile back,” Karenina said.

She led them up a flight of dirt-caked stairs to a faded red doorway.

She politely knocked two times, pausing, then three more.

“Come in, Karenina,” said the voice.

“It’s my special knock,” she explained.

The three walked in.

“Mister Curtis,” she said, “These are two friends, Arthur Geiger and Oliver Wendigo.”

“Come in,” said the old man, “Sorry I have nothing to offer you.”

“They have something to offer you,” explained Karenina, “in the form of a question.”

Then, she explained to Geiger and Wendigo, “This, gentlemen is the legendary Ray Curtis, one of the pioneers of WNAB. He used to do the Top Hit Parade show. No one knows old music like Mister Curtis does!”

“Of course,” Curtis said, “Those were the days when dancers gracefully moved and you could hum to the melodies!”

Karenina spoke to Wendigo, “Please hum that tune.”

Wendigo again da da dum duh dahed.

“Woo!” said Curtis, “You sure ain’t no singer!”

“Now, where have I heard that before?” replied Wendigo.

Karenina pleaded, “Can you tell us anything about that tune?”

Curtis said, “Well, it’s not a reasonable facsimile, but offhand, I’d say, it’s a Tommy Dorsey Fox Trot.”

“Does it have a name?” asked Karenina.

“Swing High,” said Curtis.

“Great Scorched Cats!” screamed Geiger, “Are we supposed to check all the children’s swing sets across the city?”

PSALM 31:17: She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks.

Continued soon