The Dead Room

by Heather Graham

  “She’s pretty cute to be sedate.”

  “She’s married. Happily.”

  “Damn,” he said. Then, “I’m teasing!” he added when she stared at him. He let out a sigh. “Go on. Have fun. I’ll finish here.”

  She ran up the stairs, realizing that the basement had held no eerie mysteries all during the day. She hadn’t heard or felt anything. Did that simply mean that she had been letting her imagination run wild? Was she inventing half of what she had been told was a “talent”? Or maybe her mind had been so filled with the present today that she hadn’t had time to dwell on the past.

  She could hear two tours going on. Tandy was in the parlor, while Jeff had moved on to the dining room. She quickly popped her head into each room to see if Adam and Nikki were there, but there was no sign of them. She headed upstairs to her room. As she got ready to hit the shower, she remembered that she hadn’t spoken with Joe all day. She hesitated. She desperately wanted to speak with Nikki alone; she needed to ask her why she couldn’t communicate with Matt when she was awake. But she also felt she had to call Joe, given his concern for her welfare. And, whether it was because he was Matt’s cousin or not, she felt an affinity for him, as if she had known him, been close to him, for years, rather than just days.

  She called Joe, but he didn’t pick up. She left him a hasty message, telling him friends had unexpectedly showed up in town and she would be out with them, but to please call her cell when he could. She tried Nikki then, and Nikki did pick up. “We’re just down by City Hall, but we’ll head back now. Oh, and Adam saw his friend Father Behan. Burial is all set, just as soon as the remains are cleared.”

  “Perfect, thanks. See you soon.”

  She jumped into shower, then paused. The house seemed so…empty. There had to be at least fifty people downstairs, and yet she felt…

  As if the house was quiet. As if it were silent, watching, waiting….

  “Matt?” she whispered. He wouldn’t leave her. He would trust her. If he could, he would come to her. But she had no sensation of him being near.

  Thank God she would be able to explain some of what was going on with her now, and to people who wouldn’t immediately jump to the conclusion that she had become delusional in the wake of her loss.

  The thought made her feel cheerful as she dressed in heels and a knit halter dress, then threw an embroidered shawl over her shoulders. When she went to transfer her essentials into a dressier handbag than she usually used, she saw that there was a message on her phone.

  It was Joe. He wanted her to call and tell him where they would be, and said he would join them at some point during the evening.

  By the time she went downstairs, the tours were gone, Melissa was getting ready to leave, and Adam and Nikki were waiting in the hall.

  Melissa, like Brad, looked as if she would like an invitation to hang around. Normally, Leslie would have asked her to join them at least for a drink, but not tonight. She was too desperate to spill her guts to her friends. “I’ll get the doughnuts tomorrow morning,” she told Melissa in answer to her hopeful look.

  “Okay…cool. I’ll be in early, like usual. Will I see you two again?” she asked Adam and Nikki, trying to hide her disappointment at being excluded.

  “I don’t have to be at the airport until around ten or eleven,” Adam said, smiling. “I’m sure I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

  At last Melissa was gone, and the alarm had been set, and Leslie spun around on the stairs to face her friends. “I’m so glad to see you guys!” she exploded.

  “Was it a mistake to come back here?” Nikki asked gently.

  “No…no, I would never say that, but…”

  “Is Matt here?” Adam asked.

  “Yes. And no.”

  “Why don’t we find a place to eat and you can tell us all about it?” Nikki asked.

  “There’s a great pub around the corner, O’Malley’s. It’s been there since before I first came to New York,” Adam said.

  “Sounds good to me. There’s…a lot to tell,” Leslie said.

  “We’ve got all night,” Nikki said.

  “I don’t even know where to begin,” Leslie said.

  “Start with your arrival,” Adam said. “We can talk as we walk.”

  On the way back to his car, Joe realized with a touch of anxiety that there were no messages on his phone. He’d thought he’d simply missed Leslie’s call while he was out of cell range down in the crypt, but it looked as if she hadn’t called him back at all.

  His association with her had apparently given him free access to the site, so he’d decided it wouldn’t be a bad idea to check out the work being done in the crypt for himself, just to make sure there wouldn’t be any more “accidents” of any kind down there. He wondered how happy Laymon would have been to find out that the people working the find considered it to be far more Leslie’s dig than his. He was certain Laymon wouldn’t appreciate the fact that he was prowling around on his own.

  The crypt yielded no clues to anything, though he stood there just looking around for a long time. While he stood there, he found himself talking aloud to his dead cousin again. “What’s going on here, Matt? What the hell am I looking for?”

  Damn it, Joe, don’t you think I’d be doing more if I knew? It’s a mystery to me, too. It has something to do with what’s happening underground, I know that much. I mean, that room where I died is right over the basement, and there are bones in the basement…Watch out for her, Joe.

  Was that his own wishful thinking talking? Yeah, Matt, give me your blessing. She was the love of your life, and she’s still in love with you, but I’ve got to be near her, at least. And I hope to God I’m helping.

  After a while he decided he’d spent too much time by himself in a hole in the earth carrying on an imaginary conversation with his dead cousin, so he left and headed for his car. Once there, he looked at his watch, thought about what traffic was going to be like, swore and decided on the subway. As he was waiting on the platform, he found himself deep in thought again. He couldn’t guarantee yesterday’s whereabouts of any of the men who were becoming suspects in his mind. To imagine that any one of them could be an unbelievably crafty killer was beyond imagination. And yet, he was convinced that the missing hookers, the missing heiress and the explosion were all connected and that all he had to do was get the dots connected in the right order. He considered the possibilities as he stepped onto the train and grabbed the pole for support. The cops: Ken Dryer and Robert Adair. He’d known Robert forever, and it was Robert who’d connected him with Eileen Brideswell. Robert was a good old nose-to-the-pavement detective. Dryer was a peacock. Good at his job, though, a job that took him all over the city. The others: Hank Smith…the builder. He would know a lot about basements. Laymon. Seriously, did the man ever think about anything other than his work? Then again, maybe still waters ran deep, as the saying went. Laymon was so dedicated during his working hours that maybe he went off like dynamite when he wasn’t digging. And Brad. Both Brad and Laymon had been working in Virginia when several of the disappearances had occurred. But the distance from New York wasn’t that great.

  The subway rattled on, the lights occasionally blinking off, then back on. They were deep underground. You had to love Manhattan. What it couldn’t supply above—speedy transportation—it did beneath. Dark, damp and deserted, the tunnels down here seemed to stretch forever.

  Had it been an accident when Leslie was pitched onto the tracks? It was actually surprising that things like that didn’t happen more often than they did. So many people, a wave of humanity. The only way it could have been intentional was if someone had been following her. And he hadn’t been able to clear any of his suspects; none of them had been at the dig.

  So Leslie was very likely a target now, he thought.

  What if she’d been the actual target all along, not Matt?

  But why?

  Because she had an eerie ability to find human remains.


  He reached his stop and made his way up through the crowds to the street, then the photo shop on Christopher Street. The storefront was simple, with cameras on display. It was narrow and looked like a hole-in-the-wall, but it stretched back forever. Cops and P.I.s used Harry constantly; he had a unique way with photos, no matter what their source.

  “Hey,” Harry said, seeing him when he entered. He had been helping an elderly lady with her cat photos, and while she was busy oohing and aahing, Harry was able to excuse himself. “Joe. How are you?”

  Harry pumped his hand. Harry always reminded Joe of Dr. Bunsen Honeydew from the Muppets. He had a thatch of white hair that stood straight out to all sides, huge glasses, and was impossibly tall and thin. And he always wore a lab coat.

  “Did you find anything?”

  “Maybe. It would’ve been easier with a digital image, but I’ve been playing with it. Come on back and I’ll show you what I’ve got.”

  Harry led Joe along a narrow hallway to the rooms behind the public area. They entered an office to the left.

  “I’ve run off a few copies for you,” Harry explained, sitting down at his computer. “But I thought you might want to see it on screen.”

  “Thanks.”

  Harry hit a button, and the photo popped up. There was Genevieve, her beautiful eyes wide and her arm around Betty.

  The man was a bit to the side. Had he actually been with them? Or had he simply been caught in the photo?

  No photographic manipulation in the world could change the fact that he hadn’t been facing the camera. But with the shot blown up and enhanced, Joe was able to get a sense of the man’s profile. He stared for a minute, sensing that he should know who it was but unable to make an ID.

  Then he swore softly.

  “Did I help?” Harry asked.

  “You bet,” Joe told him, his heart racing. “Son of a bitch, you bet.”

  15

  Even though she was the one who might be in trouble, Leslie had to find out how Nikki and Adam were doing—she couldn’t help it. She was curious about her friends. But Nikki, sensing that Leslie had something on her mind, quickly steered her back to her own situation. But though she loved Adam, she realized that she just couldn’t quite explain everything that had been happening, not to him. She merely said that Matt had been coming into her dreams, even though he hadn’t made contact in any other way. She also talked about the “accidents,” and she tried to explain Joe and the fact that he was so much like Matt…and yet not like Matt at all.

  The hardest thing to explain, actually, was the incident on the subway platform. She’d been so certain that she’d seen Matt there at first, urging her to move, and yet, it had been Joe who pulled her out.

  “Accidents,” Adam murmured.

  “Perhaps you should get out of here,” Nikki said.

  “I’m not afraid of ghosts.”

  Nikki smiled. “Well, we’ve both had the opportunity to learn that it’s the living who are the most dangerous.”

  Leslie nodded; Nikki had voiced her own thoughts.

  “And then,” Leslie said, “there are the prostitutes who’ve gone missing, along with a young social worker who knew some of them and is also missing. Plus there’s a good possibility that the explosion that killed Matt and almost killed me may not have been an accident.”

  “Another good reason for you to leave,” Adam said.

  “And another good reason for me to stay.”

  “Because…?” Nikki prompted.

  “Because I think I may be here because I can somehow help. There are ghosts in the house. I saw and spoke with Elizabeth—and Matt was the one who told me she needed help.”

  “There’s a Civil War soldier in the entry, too,” Nikki said.

  “You’ve seen him?” Leslie asked.

  “Briefly. He seemed like quite the gentleman,” Nikki informed her.

  “Really? I would love to meet him,” Leslie said.

  Nikki smiled. “I’ve been at this a little longer than you. The first time I realized I was actually seeing a ghost…I thought I’d die of shock.”

  “I pretty much thought I should be locked up,” Leslie murmured. “Except that…well, I think I was with Matt. That I almost stayed with him.”

  “That was when you really had to admit that you see what other’s can’t,” Adam said gently. “What even I can’t,” he added wistfully.

  Nikki set a hand on Leslie’s arm. “Should you really be staying at that house alone?” she asked.

  “Wild horses wouldn’t drag me out of it,” Leslie said. “And last night Joe stayed in the extra room. It was just for the one night, but I can ask him to stay from now on. You know…you guys should stay tonight. Please? You may…see something I can’t. I guess you checked into a hotel, but…”

  Adam waved a dismissive hand. “We can check out.”

  “There’s also something I’d love your help with tomorrow if you have time before your flights,” she said. She went on to describe the little girl at the dig. “Her name is Mary, but I don’t know her last name, and there are so many Marys listed in the church register. I haven’t seen her again, but I feel that it’s urgent to reunite her with her mother.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Nikki told her. “I wish Brent was here.”

  “You and Leslie can fix things,” Adam said reassuringly.

  Leslie started to speak, but then she realized that she’d been staring at a woman sitting alone in a booth across the room from them. Apparently the waitresses all knew her. Whenever they stopped by to refill her coffee cup, they all had something to say.

  “Do you see someone you know? Have you been here before?” Nikki asked her.

  “No. And, yes. I came here once with Matt.”

  Nikki and Adam subtly checked out the woman Leslie had been studying. “That’s Eileen Brideswell,” he said.

  “Of course,” Leslie murmured, wondering why she hadn’t recognized the woman. Not only had she seen her before, she’d even met her. Eileen Brideswell had been at the Hastings House gala the night of the explosion.

  She looked exceedingly sad, though she tried to smile when waitresses talked to her. As soon as they left, though, the smile faded.

  “You know her?” Leslie asked Adam.

  “I’ve met her over the years. In fact, excuse me, if you will.”

  He left them, joining Eileen, who brightened at his appearance. He sat down opposite her, and they began to talk.

  Leslie looked at Nikki. “I think I really am going crazy.”

  “We’ve all felt that way,” Nikki assured her.

  “It’s not that I’m seeing ghosts. It’s…” She hesitated. “I’m sorry, I love Adam like a father, but I couldn’t talk about this in front of him. Nikki, Matt doesn’t just talk to me in my dreams. It’s as if we’re together again. Nikki, I’m having this wild sex life…with a ghost.”

  Nikki twirled her swizzle stick in her Irish coffee. Then she looked at Leslie. “We see ghosts,” she said softly. “Do we really know anything about them? No. Josh, Adam’s son…you know he died at eighteen. He immediately appeared to his best friend, who told Adam. And even though Adam can’t see him, Josh often travels with him, and he speaks to a lot of people. I think maybe being a ghost is…well, not that different from being alive, in a way. If we’re energy, then for a ghost, that energy remains and is like a brand-new life. Perhaps most people do just go on to whatever the afterlife is. But some stay for months or years, even centuries, because they feel they have to remain on earth for some reason, that they have a function here. So take a man like Matt. From what you’ve told me, he was someone who believed in what he could see and touch. So I bet it’s difficult for him to learn the ropes, so to speak. Even more difficult than it is for most ghosts. Maybe he figured out how to enter your dreams, while it’s still difficult for him to…well, materialize, for want of a better word.”

  “So…when I see him in my dreams, it may not just be what I want more th
an anything in the world?” Leslie asked.

  “I wish I had all the answers, but I don’t.” She smiled. “I could be way off. Like I said, none of us has all the answers, and we’re all surprised on a daily basis. But think about all the examples of ESP you’ve heard about. A mother knowing when her child is in danger. A wife knowing suddenly that her husband has been killed. Maybe, living or dead, we all have the power to connect with that energy somehow. We just have to learn to use it. Maybe, sometimes, people live when they should have died, and maybe, sometimes, people have died when they should have lived, but there’s still a trail of communication. You and I both know other people who see ghosts, but think about it—this is New York, home to millions of people. And how many of those do you think see ghosts? Then again, ghosts can come in different ways. I had a friend who lost her dad when she was really young, and it nearly destroyed her. Then she had a dream about him, and he kept telling her how well he was doing, and how she needed to be happy, move on. And after that, she felt the pain, but she…adjusted, I guess. Who’s to say she didn’t see a ghost, that her dad didn’t find a way to make life livable again for her?”

  “Actually, that’s a nice thought,” Leslie murmured. “I just wish I knew what to do from here.”

  “I’m not sure exactly how you mean that, but I don’t think you can do anything, not emotionally, until…well, until whatever is going on is solved. I think Adam is about to cancel his trip to stay with you. He’s worried.”

  “I’m all right.”

  “That incident in the crypt? That fall in the subway? Do you really think those were accidents?”

  “But I’ll be careful now,” Leslie vowed. “And I’ll have Joe stay at Hastings House.” She hesitated. “Nikki, I’m certain that I’m on to something. I keep thinking about tunnels.”

  “And have you found a tunnel—or a solution?”

  “No, not yet.”

  Nikki studied her. “Leslie, Adam and I think you’re in danger.”

  “I’m around people all day, and Joe is around, too, even at night. Just not exactly with me.”