by Lotta Smith
Before Jackie’s murder, a total of three victims—two women and a transgender woman—were slashed with a sharp blade close to Pier 26, and it was believed that the series of assaults were committed by the same culprit. One of the victims, an accountant, survived, and thanks to her testimony, the NYPD had a relatively clear description of the assailant’s physical features. According to the testimony, the assailant’s height was between 5’8” and 6’. He was chubby with a flabby tummy, clad in a black tracksuit, sporting a beard covering half of his face and a pair of shades.
Ryan Francine was one of the choreographers of the Aladdin production, which Jackie played the part of Genie in until she met her untimely demise. I had seen the photo of Ryan Francine, but he didn’t match any of the given description. He was muscular but slim, and he didn’t have beard.
“I found a bloodstained knife and tracksuit, as well as a fake beard and sunglasses,” Paloma said between sobs.
“Oh my….” My jaw dropped.
“Oh, and there were bloodied sweatshirts. Perhaps he’d stuffed them around his waist to obtain a puffy look,” Paloma went on. “He was always adamant about banning anyone else visiting his home studio, and… I didn’t know why! Okay, so I suspected that he was hiding something from me—such as seeing other women—and I had to check out his studio. But I… I should never have set foot in there. My nosiness won over his ban. Seriously, I could imagine finding something like toothbrushes in feminine colors or sultry lingerie… but I’d never expected coming across what I saw.”
I opened my mouth and then closed it. Considering that the assaults took place in dark places at nighttime, the age and body shape could have been easily mistaken. Besides, the witness was practically bleeding her guts out, and when you’re bleeding to near death, you wouldn’t be thinking straight.
“When I found those bloody items in his closet, I realized my husband was the serial killer by the pier. At that time, two people were killed and the third victim was fighting for her life… TV, newspaper… the media was practically running field days about the serial murderer, and even I could easily put two and two together.” She covered her face with both hands.
“You could have called the police!” Jackie yelled at the woman who didn’t have the eyes or ears for the battered spirit. “If you had a little decency to cooperate with them, I may still be alive! I was giving my heart and soul and all the shit about delivering the best-ever Genie on stage! Winning a major part in Aladdin was my dream come true and… and….”
Jackie was crying and screaming and practically glowing in blue. A powerful gust of wind blew as she sparkled like a thunderbolt, and we flinched, but the saddest part was whatever Jackie said or did, Paloma never noticed the ghost.
“Why didn’t you call the police?” I demanded when the wind weakened. “You should have shown a little decency! If you had informed the police, Jackie, the fourth victim and your husband’s coworker, would be alive today! Shame on—”
As I ranted, Rick held me from behind, tightly in his arms. “Mandy,” he whispered into my ear. “I can imagine how you feel about everything, but we won’t learn anything about Jackie’s murder by chastising her. So instead, let’s have her talk.” When he brushed my face, the tips of his fingers were wet, and I realized I was crying.
Rick looked at Paloma. “We happen to be friends of the last victim, Jackson Frederick Orchard, and my partner here is especially close to Jackie. Playing the part of Genie in Aladdin on Broadway was her dream, and it was going to come true if only Jackie was alive.”
Paloma gasped, “I… I don’t know how to make an apology.” But her remorse was palpable.
As I calmed down, Rick loosened his embrace around my shoulders. “Can you tell us your reason for not calling the police?”
Paloma took a deep breath and opened her mouth. “I should have notified the police… but I couldn’t. I was being a self-centered idiot. Now I believe I should have done the right thing. I should have alerted the police and prevented further killing. Then again, I couldn’t do that. I could have just left him behind, but what about Annette? He was her father, and once Ryan was convicted of not just a murder but serial murders, that was going to stigmatize my child as a lunatic serial killer’s daughter. I could and should have turned him in to the police, but I didn’t… wasting my time by delaying one day, and then another, completely preoccupied about my future with my daughter—the child of a monster. I’m… I’m so sorry.” She clasped her hands together like she was praying.
Jackie bit her lower lip. I raised my hand, reaching for her, though we both knew we couldn’t touch each other. I wanted her to know that I supported her. Jackie moved her hand as if she were wrapping her fingers around mine.
“Torn between my selfishness and what little conscience I had left, I kept procrastinating, and perhaps God decided to punish me by taking my daughter away from me. My husband had a car wreck, not only killing himself but her as well. Annette… she did nothing to deserve that.” Tears trickled down Paloma’s face. “I wished I was dead… to be with my baby girl… but I didn’t even have the courage to kill myself.”
Rick crossed his arms. “I see. And I’m presuming that the strings of tragedy led you to Aurora Westwood.”
Paloma nodded. “Yes. I was practically going insane, and I had no idea how to deal with my loss and devastation. So I read every book I could lay my hands on about spirituality, religion, and everything… magic, even. These books didn’t solve my problem, and it was the same thing as doing nothing, but I was desperate to reassure myself by at least trying to do something, anything. And after what seemed like an eternity, I had a chance to have a counseling session with Madame Aurora Westwood. So, I confessed everything.”
My eyes widened. If I recalled it right, a counseling by Aurora Westwood cost a small fortune. Actually, there was a time when I considered seeking spiritual guidance from her. I knew it was ridiculous, considering I hated her guts after meeting with the evil witch. Then again, back then, I was a wreck following my expulsion from med school and the Grim Reaper moniker and everything. It was solely a financial reason that kept me from seeking help from her.
“And what was Aurora’s reaction?” Rick’s voice brought me back to the present.
“She told me it was no use reporting to the police about my dead husband. She also told me to stop tormenting myself as I’d suffered enough, and… I accepted her advice with gratitude. Back then, I felt like I was pardoned and salvaged….”
“I see. Aurora rocked at acquiring loyal followers or what?” Rick muttered.
Paloma went on. “After the counseling, I forgot about my husband and I started working for Madame Westwood. Of course, there were times that I couldn’t stop thinking about Annette, but I tried to forget about my daughter as well, despite knowing it was impossible.” She gave a weak smile.
“When and why did you decide to abduct Julie?” Rick asked calmly.
“When I met Julie for the first time in the corridor of Lincoln Center, Madame Westwood said my daughter would be around her age if Annette were alive… and something snapped in me. I had been suppressing my feelings about my daughter for all those years, but at that moment, I couldn’t pretend that I’d left my past behind anymore. I knew her name, and I could easily find her on Instagram, and I found the photos had location information, and I presumed one of them to be a private school in the Upper East Side. So I rented a car and followed her from school.”
“I see. I’ll tell her parents to close all of her social media accounts and stay away from them.” Rick frowned.
“When I approached Julie and her guardian, they somehow became absentminded, and Julie voluntarily hopped into my car… and I had a false idea that she wanted to be my child. I now know how stupid and egotistical that sounds, but at that time, raising her as my daughter seemed like my destiny.”
“So, Aurora was helping you in the process of kidnapping, wasn’t she?” I said.
“No! Not
at all.” Paloma shook her head violently. “Everything was plotted and committed on my own, and Madame Aurora shouldn’t know anything about my crime… I believe. But when Ms. Meyer visited her residence today, Madame looked at me and said, ‘Ooh la, we’re having trouble,’ so maybe she knew everything. As you probably know, she sees through everything.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Saying Aurora Westwood knew everything sounded like an understatement. She had gone so far as to prepare Tyler McGaw as a witness to lead me to her mansion. In addition, the evil witch could have done some dirty trick to make Julie and her guardian absentminded. Oh, don’t forget about the surveillance cameras that conveniently stopped functioning during the crucial moments of the kidnapping. On top of all that, Aurora had practically manipulated Paloma into kidnapping Julie.
Paloma’s lips quivered. “When I heard Madame’s words, I realized that I’d committed a horrible mistake—a mistake that could cost Madame Westwood’s dignity. I couldn’t just ruin her like that after all those years of providing me with moral support and a meaning in life. And… I felt I had to end my life. At the same time, it occurred to me that I’d be able to reunite with Annette by ending my life in this world. I don’t remember how I came here, but the next thing I knew, I was being restrained by the officers. I apologize for all the trouble. And, like I said, I’m better off dead because I deserve death. Don’t you think so?”
Paloma lifted the corners of her lips; it looked as if she were trying to force herself to put on a smile, or something was jamming the signal transduction between her brain and facial muscles. Still, I’d never seen such a sad face before.
Jackie took a deep breath and looked over at the sky. “I’m still having a hard time saying, ‘Apology accepted,’ but… she doesn’t have to die. Her death won’t revive me or anything.” She turned to me. “Mandy, can you tell her not to kill herself?”
“Okay.” I nodded, then said to Paloma, “You have to live.”
“But—”
“Ms. Seymour,” Rick interjected, “as a member of law enforcement, I don’t encourage you to harbor criminals, but I can understand the situation you were in. You have to live and apologize to Julie and her parents.”
Paloma was silent for a while. After what seemed like an eternity, she said, “May I kill myself after making my apologies to them? I’m so tired of dealing with my feelings.”
“No.” Rick shook his head. “I don’t care about your feelings, but if you die now, your death will leave a permanent scar on Julie’s heart. If you sincerely regret what you’ve done, you have to face the trial and accept whatever penalty is presented for compensation. I’m asking you not as a law enforcement officer but as a friend of Julie and her parents.”
“I see… I’m not even allowed to die,” she mumbled cheerlessly.
“Mandy, look there,” Jackie said, pointing toward Paloma’s lower body.
I followed her finger, and then I gasped. “Oh….”
“What?” Rick looked at me with an arched eyebrow.
“Well….” I hesitated for some seconds, but then I turned to Paloma. “Perhaps you might have heard from Aurora, but sometimes I can see dead people.”
“Oh, yes.” She nodded. “I’ve heard about your ability from Madame Westwood. She wasn’t happy when you solved a murder case before she arrived at the scene.”
For the first time, I was glad about Paloma’s background working for Aurora Westwood. Under normal circumstances, people would point at me and whisper something in line with “She’s sick in the head, poor thing,” but she was familiar with the spiritual world.
Paloma was frowning, her expression a mixture of anxiety and skepticism.
“I see a little girl standing by your side. She’s about this tall.” I moved my hand to indicate the ghost’s height. “And she has the most beautiful hazel eyes and curly blonde hair around her heart-shaped, fair-skinned face with some lovely freckles.”
The ghost of a little girl waved her hand at me, and I waved back. When Brian exorcised the hateful ghosts from Paloma’s body, I didn’t see that girl. Perhaps she sensed my surprise, as she said, “I was sad because I couldn’t come near Mommy when she was surrounded by mean people.”
I conveyed the girl’s words to Paloma, and her jaw dropped, her mouth forming an O. “E-excuse me… but… are you…? But….” Her lips quivered as if she was desperate to enunciate her lost daughter’s name.
“She says she’s so worried about her mommy and can’t leave you. You know what? She’s been with you the whole time.”
“Annette… she’s been with me the… whole time?” Paloma’s eyes welled up with tears.
“Yes.” I nodded. “You have to stop grieving and start living your own life so that she can stop worrying about you and go to a better place.”
“I… have to… live my… own life?”
“Annette is holding your right hand. Do you feel anything?” I asked.
“I-I feel… warm.” Paloma put her trembling left hand over the right, as if she were attempting to hold Annette’s little hands clasping hers. Annette smiled contentedly at her mother.
“I feel so warm.” Fat tears fell from Paloma’s eyes, wetting her hands. “I feel so warm.” She repeated the phrase over and over.
Five minutes later, the FBI agents arrived and escorted her out of the hospital. As we followed them, Rick’s phone dinged.
“Any good news?” I asked him as he glanced at the screen.
“Yup. Jules was found unharmed and the first thing she was heard saying was, ‘I’d like some ice cream, please.’ She’s fine,” he said, snorting.
I nodded, grinning like an idiot. “Wow, I’m so glad she’s doing fine. Hey, Jackie. Thank you so much for your help. You know what? You’ve practically saved—” I faltered midsentence. I raised my voice. “Jackie? Where are you?”
“What? Is something wrong?” Rick asked as panic seeped into my voice.
“It’s Jackie. She’s not answering me,” I said, and then I clapped my hands. “Jackie? Where are you? I know you’re listening in from somewhere. Let’s stop playing hide and seek!”
Silence.
“Hey, Jackie! That’s not even funny! Come on, Jackie!” I tried to laugh it off as a prank, but I knew I was just fooling myself.
“Is she answering you?” Rick touched my arm.
“No.” I shook my head.
“Jackie, stop hiding and come out.” Even when Rick barked his command at her, the ghost of a drag queen didn’t answer, much less pop up from out of nowhere like she always did.
“I can’t believe this. She’s been with me for over a year, and she was around until just a few minutes ago,” I muttered, feeling terribly light-headed and wobbly. “It’s like she’s—” I didn’t get to finish my sentence.
Suddenly, my sight blacked out and all of my sensory perceptions were shut down. Passing out, I realized Jackie had left for a better place… without even saying goodbye.
CHAPTER 11
On Saturday of the next week, I was visiting the sidewalk on Upper East Side.
While I had been passed out at the hospital where Paloma Seymour was arrested and Jackie disappeared, I had a weird dream in which someone kept telling me about a boy called Matt Weisberger.
According to the voice, Matt was Tyler’s BFF, and he was the person who would help Tyler’s departure for a better place. The voice told me to find Matt and bring him to the ghost of Tyler. When I woke up, I attempted to do exactly what I was told, except my plan stayed unexecuted for a week, partly because I had to be hospitalized overnight, and after being discharged, I started running a fever.
The following three days after returning to Rick’s condo on the Fifth Avenue, I spent most of the time in bed, wondering if the voice was Jackie’s. After a thorough examination, I was given a clean bill of health and the doctor said I was just having an acute reaction to stress and fatigue. Still, Rick was practically frantic over my condition. I’d never seen
him so anxious, and for the first time, I learned he could actually cook.
Under normal circumstances, I would have been flattered to the point of doing a happy dance behind his back, but…. Okay, so, you don’t see him making pancakes in the kitchen very often, and to be honest, his pancakes tasted way more delicious than what I usually made. Typically, yummy food tended to help lift my mood even in my darkest moments, but this time, nothing worked.
I was depressed—no, depressed was an understatement. I was devastated over Jackie’s departure.
Since losing her on the rooftop of the hospital, I hadn’t seen or heard from the ghost of a drag queen, and I missed her. When I was in med school, patients died on a regular basis. Each death used to be just a routine, and most of the time, I’d barely known the patients in the first place. Seeing the people departing out of life at the hospital was a synonym for mumbling condolences sympathetically and displaying a solemn face. I didn’t really miss those passing patients because I didn’t know them so well in the first place.
But this time, things were different. I missed her. I was beyond shocked. Unlike people dying in the hospital, Jackie had no sign of death—okay, so she’d been dead since we met, but she was always cheerful and lively and had a happy-go-lucky attitude. To think back, she was noisy, nosy, annoying, and she obviously found pleasure in driving me crazy sometimes, but… she had been an important part of my life.
On top of all that, I didn’t see her disappearance coming. She was gone without even a goodbye, and I wasn’t sure if she’d departed to a better place on her own will or if someone had forcibly removed her from this world. At first, I suspected Aurora Westwood might have exorcised Jackie out of spite for me, but that scenario didn’t sound very likely.
According to the news, Aurora was in cardiac arrest when she was rushed to the hospital. The doctors at Presbyterian had managed to resuscitate her. She was on life support for three days, and when she woke up, she had no memory of her life as Aurora Westwood, the most celebrated TV psychic in the world.