The Club at Ravenswood

[Deleted]

There's been so much work on the routing of the course over the past few weeks, CEO Eric Nesbit ordered that the practice facilities be completed so that he could get some work on his game any time he's in town checking on the progress of the course.

Practice Green


Driving Range

[xEB50x]

Residing on the hillside, hidden by overhanging trees and brush a weathered elderly man lives a reclusive life. He was once known as a jovial character amongst other members of the ill fated Country Club. The leather skinned man was an avid golfer, but his true passion was astronomy. Neighbors regularly observed him on his deck viewing constellations through his high powered telescope.

But this man had a secret. He was a voyeur. Five years before moving to the hills above Ravenswood, he was convicted of several felonies for video tapping private citizens in their Condominiums. Acting as the property manager, he secretly placed cameras in all of the units. It wasn't until routine property improvements were being conducted that his elaborate scheme was revealed.

At the time, he had no idea how his unsavory addiction to voyeurism would collide with the mystery surrounding Ravenswood, A mystery that only he and his telescope could unravel. 

[Deleted]

In recent days, the club has focused much of their efforts on reconstructing bridges around the facility. The bridge that golfers use to travel from teeing ground to green on the famed 16th hole was especially creepy, as if the orange, dense fog was actually originating from that very spot. There would be no salvaging this structure, so Nesbit decided it must come down.



However, upon beginning to tear the bridge down, the air turned cold and the sky went gray, and a grave shadow loomed over the pond where the island 16th green waded. Crews were definitely spooked by the changing atmosphere, but they continued as fast as they could to remove the old, rotting bridge.

The work continued all day long, and just before the final deteriorating boards were hauled away, someone yelled, "hey, you've gotta see this!"

Everyone ran to the muddy spot on the shore where the worker was standing, and just beneath him in the muck was a knife, now rusted from years in the water. They had no idea if this discovery meant anything, outside of the gloomy weather that had mysteriously arrived when they started tearing down the bridge, but as one of the crew bent down to pick up the knife, a terrifying whisper could be heard in the fog... "Rrreeemmmmyyy, rreemmyy, REMY!"

They knew right then that this was the murder weapon that the cops never found. It's doubtful that the police would find any significant forensic evidence on it now, but based on the location, and the original discovery of the body on the other side of the pond, maybe the pieces of the puzzle could be put back together.



Maybe it's time to revisit potential witnesses. One individual the cops were sure to refocus on was the elderly man in the hills. Perhaps he saw something through his telescope the night that Remy Edwards was murdered near the 16th hole...

[TreeWood]

"Son of a b%&!" exclaimed the brooding figure hunched over his nondescript desk, the kind of cookie-cutter, utilitarian, mid-70's furniture that everyone had been issued at Ravenswood P.D. It was past 11:45 p.m. already, and the even the cleaners had come and gone for the night. But Detective Andre Quenneville was working late again -- sitting in the darkened alcove that served as his office.

Quenneville adjusted his desk lamp, throwing more light on the set of photographs strewn across his desk. Taking another bite of his sub sandwich, he drew back slightly to avoid the inevitable drops of ranch dressing splattering on the evidence before him. His Sears-bought rayon tie took the hit instead. Quenneville scowled, and returned his attention to the black and white photos that had arrived in the evidence pouch.

He stared intently at the grainy blowup closest to him. It showed a heavily rusted dagger and scabbard, likely late 19th century, he surmised. Quenneville gradually began to connect the dots. It was slow, almost imperceptively so, but onward it went. There was something about the Ravenswood name, what was it again? And the dagger...and murder... "Jesus," he half-whispered, "the Edwards case!"

[xEB50x]

Although there were whispers around town, no one really knew anything about the elderly man on the hill. Many years had past since tragedy had struck the peaceful town that had always taken so much pride in the Ravenswood Country Club. He was only one of a few living "persons of interest" still residing in the area.

He had previously been interviewed by Det. Quenneville, but based on his past convictions, and his knowledge surrounding the murder of Remy Edwards, he made every effort to avoid questioning. He still had secrets to keep. In the eyes of Quenneville, the old man was a dead end.

Little did they know, their lives would cross paths once again.....Death would not be the only whiteness that fateful night, and Remy would not be the only one to pay the price!

[xEB50x]

Norm Harlan, the old man in the hills, abruptly, wakes up in a cold sweat! It was 1:28 am. The same time Remy lost his life so many years before. He had not been able to sleep for days, ever since the  murder weapon was recovered. He could no longer fight off the demons which now reveal themselves in lucid dreams!! He vividly remembers the stabbing near the sixteenth hole at Ravenswood. A hole he had birdied so many times. The encounter seemed so close as he zoomed in his  high powered telescope. It was so painful to watch, that he felt as though he could hear Remy's last breath.

The attack seemed to go on forever, but in reality, it all happened so fast, maybe 20 seconds. He was not close to Remy Edwards, but the horror of watching his murder, has been more then Harlan could handle! "Why!, Why!, Why did you do that!"

[TreeWood]

The stroboscopic flickering of the dying fluorescent tube just made his headache worse. That, and the annoying electric hum which accompanied it.

Detective Andre Quenneville hated this place -- and he was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. Looking for a specific cardboard box in a vast matrix of identical cardboard boxes was a mind-numbing endeavour. Everything was supposed to be filed sequentially, following the standard LEAF system, which Ravenswood PD had finally adopted. But, in the field of law enforcement -- at least in Ravenswood, the goal of accurate filing was much more a wish than a reality.

Quenneville glanced back down at the Post-It he'd brought with him. "291000-RE," it read. It took him a few minutes just to narrow down the right area of the musty evidence storage facility in which to begin his search. Eventually, after playing evidence-box Tetris for far too long, he found it. More than a decade's worth of dust had settled atop the box, forming a soft, grey blanket that shielded the memory of Remy Edwards.

"Probably not a hell of a lot useful in here," he predicted, as he prepared to remove the lid. He had no way of knowing just how wrong he would be...

[Deleted]

With all of the recent police activity on the property due to Detective Quenneville's decision to fully reopen this cold case, it's been a bit distracting to the NGM workers, but CEO Eric Nesbit assures the crew that there shouldn't be any delays in finishing the project on time.

In fact, Director of Golf David Andrews has been given the green light to hire the Head Golf Professional he's been recruiting for a few weeks now, an accomplished teaching pro from Sawmill Creek Golf Club, Wayne Adams. The partnership of Andrews and Adams, combined with the historical research of Kessler, is sure to put the finishing touches on a project that Nesbit has been looking forward to opening for a long time.

The course itself is completely routed, including the modified historic holes that Kessler had brought to the attention of Andrews after his long hours of research. The design was returned to the old out-and-back again, with a halfway house between the ninth green and tenth tee. Also, in a very bold decision, Andrews has decided that cart paths will not be installed, but instead the use of beautifully mown trails meandering through the property that the golfer and his caddie will use to walk to each hole. That's right, Ravenswood will bring back the use of caddies, available to any member in good standing and his guest, Tuesday through Sunday, with the club being closed on Mondays.

The finishing touches will be put on the landscaping over the next 3-4 weeks, before the club officially opens for business on November 14th. No matter what happens with the police report regarding the cold case of Remy Edwards' mysterious death, opening ceremonies will include a moment of silence and the dedication of the ancient hickory tree on the 16th green complex as the Edwards Memorial.

[bigcat023]

Can't wait for the movie.This is such a great read really enjoying.

[Deleted]

It's hard to say if it was because the memorial on the 16th green was complete or perhaps Detective Quenneville was making progress on the cold case, but as Andrews began his daily tour of the property today the sun broke through the fog for a just few minutes before retreating to its normal hiding spot behind the orange haze. He was able to snap a few pictures as he left the clubhouse and began his tour, but by the time he was climbing the hill toward the second green on his gator, the sun was retreating. Hopefully this is a sign of things to come if the Edwards case finally gets solved.

First green


Second tee


Second green



When Andrews returned to his office he was so energized by the brief daylight over the course that he decided to call the police station to see if there had been any breaks in the case...

[xEB50x]

Norm Harlan wakes up to the sound of heavy machinery and the smell of diesel. He was used to the sound, but today seemed different. Why? What made today unlike the others. He walks out to his heavily hidden deck to see what all the commotion was about. He moved some branches to get a clear view of Ravenswood CC.

For the first time in a week, he felt optimistic. He was witnessing the new beginnings the Nesbit company was creating for a darkened community. As he scans the course, he can hardly recognize several holes. The new design was inspiring.

Then his eyes caught a glimps of the hole 16 memorial.He felt a rush of heat overwhelm his body. His bright morning suddenly feels dreary. He’s not sure why, but he knows he has to go to the scene of the crime, the edge of the pond guarding the old 16th green.

Harlan knows he must face the truth... he says to himself in a barely audible tone, “ it stars now. Today will be the first day of the rest of my life.”

The decision was made, he can’t make the same mistakes that got him arrested decades ago. This time he will backtrack and clean up all loose ends....

[TreeWood]

Quenneville hadn't always wanted to be a cop. Out of high school, he'd initially dabbled with the notion of pursuing his dream to become a Formula One driver. He'd grown up racing karts, and knew his way around a machine shop. He even got a brief shot with Dean Huddleston's pit crew, back when #88 and the rest of them good ol' boys traveled northward to the local one-mile oval.

He would later attend Ravenswood Community College, where he trained to become a science teacher - he'd always been good at physics. Somewhere along the way, however, he discovered that fulfillment lay not in education, but law enforcement. To Quenneville, the pursuit of knowledge was only half as thrilling as the pursuit of bad guys. Through all the aspirations, some reached, others not, there was indeed a constant -- a keen eye for detail.

He itemized the contents of the evidence box. There was, of course, the clothing that Edwards had been wearing at the time of his demise -- the yellow cotton plus fours, and a white golf shirt bearing the letters "TGC" stitched in black thread -- it appeared to be a logo of some kind. Both items were stained with black splatter. Most people are surprised to learn that oxidized blood eventually turns black if you leave it long enough. Even beneath the latex gloves that he now wore, Det. Quenneville could feel the quality of the garments. And there were his shoes, Adidas soft spikes, which looked like they'd hardly been worn.

There were a number of personal effects as well: a billfold -- still containing eighty-five dollars in bills, some wallet-sized photos of previous golfing adventures - all bearing the stamp "Karma4u Photography", a set of keys, an access badge labelled "DQCC", and a folded scrap of paper with a perplexing series of numbers  scrawled across it: "5-2, 3-2, 7-4, 7-4, 5-3, 3-2, 7-3".

It struck Quenneville as odd that he didn't remember that particular piece. He'd worked the case back in the day, of course, but not as the lead. So it could well have been that he'd not seen every piece of evidence that had been recovered.

There were the shoe impressions taken from the scene -- specifically from the greenside bunker at #16. It had rained that night, and someone had run through it at some point. The prints didn't belong to Remy, as they were far too large. Edwards only wore size 10s, and these were probably 12s.

The box also contained the crime scene photos of the body, and in a separate baggie, all of lead detective Simon Morris' case notes. "Too bad about Morris," Quenneville lamented, "didn't even make it to retirement."


   

[xEB50x]

As Harlan prepared to leave his home. He fell into an almost catatonic state. He was seeing images of himself, Remy, blood and random number combinations "5-2, 3-2, 7-4, 7-4, 5-3, 3-2, 7-3". He was watching himself from afar, but could speak and feel emotions. He was disoriented.

He had read about "Astro Travelling" years before. It was during a period of time when Harlan was interested in crystals, and the hidden powers they posses. He learned that while holding specific types of crystals and going into a calm form of meditation you could leave your body and travel to undisclosed locations. This out of body experience was the only thing he could relate to his current condition.

Then suddenly he awakens!! "Oh, Hell No" he thinks to himself. Harlan was lying face down in the Green side bunker on hole 16! It was dark and he could hear a faint haunting voice....Reeeemmmmy, Reemmy! He quickly lifts his hand to view his watch. 1:28 am. "This can't be happening....Not again."

[Deleted]

Andrews had no sooner gotten off the phone with Det. Quenneville for an update when his cell phone rang.

"Boss, you need to get up to the third hole, there's a guy sitting on the bench by the tee, staring out over the pond... and he keeps mumbling GLORY."

Andrews hopped back in the gator and headed up the hill toward the third tee, but on his way he remembered talking to Kessler weeks ago about naming the third hole "glory." He began to wonder if it might be him up there.

Third tee


Indeed, when he arrived Andrews found Kessler right where the crew had spotted him, still mumbling to himself.

"What are you doing up here right now? The property is closed to everyone but the crews, and I wasn't told you'd be visiting," Andrews said.

"You've done it, David!" Kessler exclaimed. "You've turned this hole back into glory, just as it had been in the good ole days."

"Boy, I know you were excited about the historic renovations when we last spoke, but you seem to be taking this very personally now," Andrews said inquisitively.

"Many people don't try to drive the green because of the hazards, but I did that day. In fact, I made eagle, putting me up in the match. It was supposed to be my time for glory..." Kessler's voice broke as he tried to finish his thought.

"What match?" Andrews asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Nevermind, I'm sorry I came uninvited, I should go," Kessler said. He could see newly hired head pro Wayne Adams driving down from the fifth hole to see what was going on, and Kessler didn't want any more commotion over this unannounced visit.

Third green

[xEB50x]

Harlan makes his way home and goes straight to his desk. He starts to rummage through all the loose paper in the top drawer. Harlan was never very organized, but he had a system that worked for him. "Got it!" he looks down at the business card reading Dr. Linda Eldred. Upon viewing the card, his mind goes back to when he first met Dr. Eldred. She was his psychiatrist for over ten years. However, he stopped seeing her about three months earlier. Harlan was diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder, and showed all the signs of early stage schizophrenia. He was placed on numerous medications, and was able to live a pretty normal life when he stuck to a regimented program.

Harlan did not like the numbing feeling of the medications. He told Dr. Eldred they made him lethargic, and emotionless. This was very difficult for a man who used to spend so much time socializing at the Ravenswood CC. While staring at the business card he reflects on playing cards, dice games and telling jokes with the "Boys." The group of men were close and had a regular schedule. 7:30 am tee time every Saturday morning, usually a shot gun start. They also met every Wednesday night for social hour, which should have been called "6 till closing." The men would have to be told to leave many nights. One of his best friends was a man he no longer spoke too. That friend was always playing jokes on people, telling riddles, and loved to challenge us with breaking codes. He was a former intelligence officer in the army, and one of his duties was "code breaking."

Harlan redirects his attention to the business card. He knows he must make the call. It's been a long three months. He has fallen in and out of hallucinations, and was struggling to come to grips with Remy Edwards murder. He picks up the phone and....pauses....staring at the numbers. "Should I call..." Suddenly he breaks into laughter. "Dam your good" he says. "All these years later and I finally got it" Harlan was referring to a code that was passed around the Ravenswood CC by his old friend. He remembered him handing out little pieces of paper with the code on it to anyone who would take it. He got a real kick out of stumping us with his riddles. "Ha, who get's the last laugh this time.".....