‘How’d you like to sink your teeth into one of those?’
‘Mmmm, look at that hairy mazoo.’
‘Oh hon, suck me off.’
Staring at the photos, listening to Nate, Bill often found himself thinking about Miss Bennett – the way she’d looked on her back, her legs up, her eyes full of tears. He imagined her naked, then felt guilty as if such thoughts were an insult to her.
When he finally got home, late that afternoon, his mother handed him an envelope. ‘This came for you today,’ she said.
He looked at the envelope, its neatly typed address. He knew, before opening it, what he would find.
‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ asked his mother. She seemed very curious.
‘Sure.’ He tore the envelope, and pulled out the invitation. The paper was slick and shadowy – the paper of a cheap photocopy machine. He unfolded it. ‘“Join the fun,”’ he read.
‘Let me see.’
He gave it to her, and she read it, silently mouthing the words. When she finished, she shook her head. ‘Says it’s at the old Sherwood house.’
‘Yeah. That’ll be neat.’
‘I don’t know, Billy. Don’t know if you oughtta be going there. It’s a bad place, been deserted fifteen years.’
‘You don’t believe in ghosts, do you, Mom?’
‘It’s a bad place, honey.’
8
The Ashburg Public Library was silent, and smelled like furniture polish. Sam walked softly over its carpet.
Behind the circulation desk slouched Elmer Cantwell. More like a bullfrog than a toad. His bulging eyes blinked at Sam.
‘May I be of assistance?’ Elmer asked in a low voice.
‘Is there somewhere private?’
The big head didn’t move, but the eyes slid from side to side. ‘We seem to be alone. As you may notice, I am presently manning the desk. I can hardly leave my post, can I?’
‘Fine.’
‘Never fear, I am wearing pants and they are zipped. Would you care to see?’
‘No thanks.’
‘I take it there have been no complaints?’
‘Not recently,’ Sam told him.
‘I shouldn’t think so. I have conducted myself with extreme decorum during the past eight months.’
‘I’m not here about that.’
‘Ah,’ Elmer grinned with mild surprise. ‘Then what brings you into my presence? Certainly you’re not here for a book?’
‘That’s right. I’m here looking for Thelma.’
‘Who?’
Sam held up the photo. ‘Thelma Rawls, formerly Boyanski, formerly Connors.’
‘Oh, that Thelma. I believe she moved to Milwaukee.’
‘I believe she’s back. Where’s she staying, Elmer?’
‘I wouldn’t have the vaguest notion.’
‘Think again. Obstructing a criminal investigation is a lot more serious than jogging around town with your jollies hanging out.’
His slick lips drew back. ‘No call to be crude, Officer.’
‘You were seen with her. Where’s she staying?’
‘You might try the Sunset Lounge. That’s where I found her.’
‘When?’
‘Shall we say Tuesday night?’
‘Did you leave with her?’
‘Yes, I believe so.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘For a drive.’
‘Where?’
‘To a quiet, secluded place.’ His eyes rolled upward and he smiled. ‘Oh, she was just luscious. Would you care for me to recount our exploits?’
‘That won’t be necessary. Just tell me where you left her.’
‘Back at the Sunset Lounge. Her car was there, I believe.’
‘Okay. Wednesday. You went to Food King with her. You paid for her groceries. Where did you meet her, where did you take her?’
‘We met for lunch at the Oakwood Inn. After shopping, I let her off at the inn’s parking lot.’
‘Why did you pay for her groceries?’
‘Because, Officer, I am a gentleman.’
‘Okay. Last night.’
‘Yes?’
‘Where did you take her?’
‘No place at all. I spent the evening at home with Mother. I’m certain she’ll be pleased to verify that.’
‘I’ll check.’
‘I know you will. Persistence is such an admirable trait.’
‘When did you see Thelma last?’
‘Yesterday afternoon, when I dropped her off at the Oakwood Inn.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Would I lie to you?’
‘If I find out you have lied, Elmer, I’ll put you in jail.’
‘Meany.’
In his patrol car, Sam called the station. Ethel’s voice came over the radio. Betty, he realized, had already gone home; the day shift was over.
‘Would you look up Elmer Cantwell’s home address for me?’ he asked.
‘Hold on,’ said Ethel. Moments later, she gave him the address.
As he drove there, he thought about what he’d learned from Elmer. Thelma had been in town as of Tuesday night, at least. She’d spent some time with Elmer, and made it with him – hard to believe. According to Elmer, they’d been together yesterday afternoon, but not last night. So she didn’t have him as an alibi for the time Dexter was murdered.
She still looked good as a suspect.
Looking better all the time.
Sam stopped at Elmer’s house. He rang the doorbell a dozen times. Though he felt sure that the mother was home, she didn’t answer the door.
Elmer probably phoned, gave her advance warning.
Could Thelma be inside, too? Possible, but not likely. If the rumors were true, Elmer wouldn’t want his mother knowing he was involved with another woman.
He rang a few more times, then left and returned to the station.
9
She spooned thick tomato sauce onto Eric’s spaghetti. He counted the chunks of Italian sausage, and saw that she was giving him more than usual. Too many chunks to count. He smiled up at her.
‘Did you have a good day at school?’ she asked.
He thought about his troubles with Nate and Mr Doons. He sure wouldn’t tell Mom about that. ‘I got invited to a Halloween party,’ he said.
‘Oh? That sounds nice. When is it?’
‘Halloween night.’
She stepped to her side of the kitchen table, and began serving herself. ‘Who’s having it?’
‘Somebody from school.’
‘Anyone I know?’
He shook his head. ‘It’s a costume party.’
‘What’ll you wear?’
‘Haven’t decided.’
She sat down. ‘Would you like to say grace?’
He lowered his head, and rattled off his memorized prayer. ‘Dear God, who giveth us food for the body and truth for the mind, so enlighten and nourish us that we may grow wise and strong to do thy will, Amen.’
‘Amen,’ she mumbled.
Eric started to stir his spaghetti. ‘Are you going out?’
‘Tonight? No, I don’t think …’
‘I mean on Halloween.’
She shook her head. ‘I’ll stay here for the trick-or-treaters, I guess.’
‘Will Sam come over?’
He watched her face turn red. ‘Sam has to work. He’s a policeman.’
‘He is?’
‘He’s an awfully nice man, Eric. We’ve been … I’ve been seeing him for a long time, now. We’re very good friends.’
‘Oh.’
‘He’d like to meet you.’
‘I don’t want to meet him.’
‘Eric.’ She sounded sad. ‘He’s my friend.’
‘Must be.’ Eric took a bite of sausage, and slowly chewed. It was his favorite meat, but he felt tight inside and he didn’t want to swallow.
‘I’m sorry you ran into him, that way.’
‘Does he come here every nigh
t?’
‘No. He’s only been here a few times.’
‘Sneaking around.’
‘He does not sneak around. I just didn’t want you to meet him, yet, because … things don’t always turn out and I didn’t want you getting attached to him, like you did with John and Raymond.’
He managed to swallow. He pushed at his spaghetti, but didn’t take another bite. ‘You shouldn’t go messing around with men if you aren’t married.’
‘You don’t have to be married to love someone.’
‘Then you get kids without fathers.’
‘You have a father.’
‘Oh yeah? Where is he?’
‘He went away.’
‘Because he got you pregnant and you weren’t married.’
‘That isn’t why.’
‘Then why?’
‘He asked me to marry him, but I wouldn’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Your father wasn’t a nice man.’
‘Then why did you … go with him?’
‘I didn’t.’ She stared at her spaghetti. So far, she hadn’t taken a single bite. ‘He was just a guy in school. We hardly knew each other. He followed me home, one day, and nobody was there but me, and – well, things happened. We were both only sixteen, and … He got kicked out of school, and got a job at a gas station. He wanted me to marry him, but I just told him no. And then he left town, about a month before you were born, and he never came back.’
‘You should’ve married him.’
‘How can you say that? You don’t even know him.’
‘You should’ve. You should’ve let me have a dad. It’s not fair.’
Her eyes got shiny and her mouth started to tremble. She pushed herself away from the table.
Eric started to cry. She’d made his favorite meal, and now everything was ruined. ‘Mom, I’m sorry.’
‘Never mind,’ she sobbed. ‘Just never mind.’ She rushed out of the room.
10
Sitting in his car, Sam watched the house. He was across the street, and half a block away. As he watched, he ate a cheeseburger he’d bought at Jack-in-the-Box.
He had arrived at five o’clock, dressed in civvies and driving his own Chrysler. Darkness closed quickly over the street. Lights appeared in the windows of nearby homes. The home of Elmer Cantwell, however, remained dark, and Sam wondered if he’d been wrong about the mother.
At 5:52, light appeared in an upstairs window. It soon went off. A few minutes later, the picture window lit up, and he could see into the living room. Then the draperies slid shut.
He hadn’t been wrong about the mother.
At 6:10, a Volvo entered the driveway and stopped. A man climbed out. From his bulging shape and the slouch of his walk, Sam knew it had to be Elmer.
Elmer entered the house, leaving his car in the driveway.
Going out later?
Sam finished his cheeseburger. He turned on the radio, and listened to quiet music. As he waited, a chill seeped through his trouser legs. He had a blanket in the trunk, but didn’t want to bother with it. He turned on the car engine. Soon, the heater was blowing warm air on him, and the car began to feel cozy.
Not as cozy as home, though. Nice to be back at his duplex, sitting on the couch, staring at the TV news and sipping a vodka gimlet. Nicer to be with Cynthia. He wouldn’t be with her tonight, though, even if this hadn’t come up. Maybe she would straighten things out with Eric. It’d be good to know the kid. The three of them could get together, go to movies, go fishing. Not right for a kid to grow up without a father.
Better no father, though, than the guy Eric would’ve been stuck with if Cynthia’d married that bastard who raped her. Harlan. Scotty Harlan. Damn good thing he’d left town. If Sam ever got his hands on the guy … Christ, to do a thing like that to Cynthia! She’d cried the night she told Sam about it, cried so hard she could barely talk as she described how he stood with a knife and made her strip, how he pressed the blade to her throat as he took her, and threatened to slice off her nipples if she ever told.
People saw Scotty leave the house, and knew he was the one when she got pregnant, but she never told anyone how it happened. No one but Sam, on a night fifteen years later when he asked about Eric’s father and she spoke in a voice so broken by sobs that he cried, himself, and held her tightly.
A guy like Scotty Harlan shouldn’t be allowed to live.
Sam had never killed anyone, but he’d like a chance at Harlan.
Maybe not kill him, Sam thought. Maybe just blast apart his knees. And his elbows. And shove the muzzle against his cock and blow that off.
He realized that he was trembling with rage. He took a deep breath. He wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers.
Keep your mind on the job, he warned himself. No point dwelling on Scotty. You’ll never get a chance to do anything about him, never get a chance to stick your gun up his ass…
Stop it!
Think about Dexter.
Somebody hated Dex awfully bad to cut him up that way, hated him the way I hate Scotty. So who did Dex rape?
He wouldn’t.
Berney had Chet and Buck looking through the station files for suspects – guys Dexter had stepped on, over the gears. Guys who might want to return the favor. Even in a town the size of Ashburg, a cop could accumulate plenty of enemies.
Sam put his money on Thelma, though. Former spouse. Showed up in town the day before he was killed. Has to be a connection of some kind. If she didn’t handle it herself, she might’ve put somebody else up to it.
Maybe Elmer.
Even as he thought about the man, he saw Elmer Cantwell leave the house. The hunched figure crossed the lawn and ducked into the Volvo. The car backed out of the driveway.
Sam swung away from the curb, and followed. He stayed a full block behind Elmer’s car as it moved up the deserted street. At an intersection ahead, another car pulled in front of him. With this one as a shield, he narrowed the gap. It soon turned onto a driveway. By this time, Elmer was passing the Baptist church. The business district was only a block away. With traffic picking up, Sam didn’t bother to drop back. He stayed several car-lengths behind Elmer, and kept moving when the Volvo swung into the parking area of Harney’s Liquor.
Near the end of the block, he pulled up to a vacant stretch of curb. He waited, wondering if he was crazy to be tailing Elmer. Tailing him on an errand, for Christsake! His old lady probably ran short of apricot brandy … On the other hand, maybe Elmer planned to do some entertaining.
This could pan out, after all.
Sam chewed on his lower lip, and watched the rear-view mirror.
Soon, a car backed onto the road. Sam looked away as it approached. When it passed him, he looked. A Volvo. He let it get a good headstart, then pulled onto the road behind it.
The Volvo approached an intersection.
If he’s heading back home, Sam thought, he’ll turn here.
He didn’t turn.
Sam grinned, and followed. The Volvo led him away from the business district, down tree-shrouded streets. Not far ahead was the entrance to the Ashburg Golf and Tennis Club.
Where Babe Rawls once tended bar.
Where Thelma used to hang out.
But Elmer drove past it.
The open fields of the golf course began. On the other side of the street, the last few houses were left behind, and the cemetery took over.
Sam’s headlights lit a wooden sign. ‘You are now leaving Ashburg,’ it read. ‘Come back soon.’
Where the hell’s he taking me? Sam wondered.
Better be to Thelma.
11
Eddie Ryker was drying the supper dishes when the telephone rang. His mother lifted a plate out of the sudsy water. ‘Would you get that, honey?’
‘Sure.’ He balled up the dishrag. As he backed away, he shot it toward the sink. It flared out, and dropped like a sheet over the rack of dishes waiting to be dried.
In two long strides, h
e was at the kitchen door. He picked up the wall phone.
‘Hello?’
‘Eddie?’ asked a soft, breathy voice.
He smiled. ‘Oh, hi Aleshia. How are you?’
‘I miss you.’
‘Me too,’ he said, and wished he’d picked up the phone in a different room. He never expected the caller would be Aleshia. She usually phoned much later, talking quietly from her dark bedroom.
‘How was football practice?’
‘Just fine,’ he said. He remembered her waving as she ran by with the other cheerleaders, her legs quick under the pleated skirt. ‘How did your practice go?’
‘Oh, just fine. Except for Sue. She’s such a know-it-all. I just wish she’d fall off her pedestal and break a leg. Or something higher up, if you get my meaning.’
Eddie smiled.
‘I suppose you heard about Chief Boyanski?’
‘Yeah. It was on the news.’
‘Isn’t it just ghastly? To think there’s a murderer running around town! Yick!’
‘Well, they’ll probably catch him.’
‘I hope so! It’s disturbing to have a thing like that, especially the day before Halloween.’
‘Well …’
‘Anyhow, that’s not what I called about. I came into a very rude surprise, when I got home from practice.’
‘Oh?’
‘An invitation came for me in the mails.’
‘For that Spook-House Halloween Party?’
‘You got one, too?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, do you realize what night that party’s scheduled for?’
‘Tomorrow night.’
‘Precisely.’
‘And what else is that night?’
‘Your party, of course.’
‘Precisely.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t worry about it. I’m still planning on yours.’
‘I should certainly hope so. But what about everyone else?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I invited a dozen friends to my party. Now suppose half of them decide they would rather go over to the creepy old Sherwood place? What kind of party’ll we have, then?’
‘A small one.’
‘You may be amused, Edward Ryker, but I most certainly am not.’
‘I just don’t think it’ll happen. Some of the kids you asked might’ve gotten invitations to the other party, but I’ll bet every one of them will decide on yours.’
Allhallow's Eve: (Richard Laymon Horror Classic) Page 5