Part Seventeen - The Penultimate Chapter
Cattrell’s phone rang. Unknown number.
“Cattrell.”
“It’s Mickie at New Dynamics.” She laughed. “I’m beating you to your weekly call to us.”
The receptionist with the cropped jacket. Cattrell stepped out of his darkroom and into his studio, where large poster-sized portraits of his black and white photography adorned the walls. He stood in front of “Sand and Pendulum,” and a slight chill went down his back.
“Do I bother you that much?” Cattrell asked.
“For a really outdated droid? Uh ya.”
Cattrell guffawed. “What have you got?”
“There’s this guy at Hunter’s Point Junkyard trying to get a hold of this woman. She was hunting for a hip rotor for a 101. She never left her number, and so he called here trying to get the info, but all we had was your contact information. You’ve been the only person to contact us a hundred times about 101 parts, so we thought you might know her.”
Cattrell raced to get a pen and paper. “Tell me how I can help.”
“If you’re in contact with this lady, have her pick up the part. He said something about a pendulum. But he was confused by it.”
Cattrell silent gasped. He got the name of the junkyard man and ended the call.
Cattrell dialed the operator. Sometimes they answered, sometimes not. Today they answered.
He asked her for all listings containing the word “pendulum” anywhere on the peninsula. He said a small prayer.
“There’s one. In the Richmond District.”
He asked her for the address and alpha-numeric phone number.
Cattrell sped down 280 freeway, fishtailing around abandoned tires, plowing through tumbling brush. He remembered the final investigation of his career, and that last call with Boone, especially his gratitude for “solving” the case. The call that left him unfulfilled.
Boone may have let go of Cassandra, but Cattrell couldn’t. Following the final phone call with Boone, he studied the warehouse fire in detail, and accessed the coroner’s reports, which hinted at no murder, no conspiracy.
Nobody could deny that Cassandra and the droid were connected. Her home revealed Cassandra’s fascination with ordinary objects that came to life on their own. Objects like the player piano, the cuckoo clock, the fortuneteller. Even the sand and pendulum offered a mechanical lesson about life, and the mysteries contained within the human soul. Cassandra yearned for that connection between man and machine. Between woman and machine.
He reached the Highway 1 and 19th Street turnoff and exited carefully. He thought about his search of her bedroom and the lavish make-up and beauty products. When he originally searched the home, he had been focused on the wrong things. He laughed, in spite of himself. His whole life had been focused on the wrong things.
Cattrell pulled up to the corner of Richmond and 15th. He had found it.
Upon a pink awning, drenched in rain: The Sand and Pendulum. Antiques and Gifts.
Read from the beginning:
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen
Read the final chapter:
Part Eighteen
"The Girl and the Pendulum" is an 18-part future-noir science fiction story about a a private investigator's search for a missing android. How can a man who searches for missing women find lost artificial intelligence? I welcome feedback on this story about a man and his difficult case in a post-war, post collapse world. Stay tuned, as I also will begin publishing my 300,000 word epic novel "The Messiah" on Steemit in 2017.
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Image Credits: 422694 | taz123 | Dan Wiedbrauk (CC BY-ND 2.0 w/mods)| Gratisography
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