The Inferno Collection

by Jacqueline Seewald

  “I wanted to know what Lorette was doing here.”

  “And so you shall in due time.” He smiled at her, the sort of smile that implied she was some inferior being invited solely for his indulgent amusement. “But you are in too dreadful a hurry. Why don’t I get us both some refreshment first?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “I don’t poison people,” he said, smiling his superior smile once again.

  “Of course not.”

  “But that is what you were thinking. The Borgias were fascinating, weren’t they? Their guests were never bored.”

  “Could we just talk about Lorette and why you invited her here?”

  “Of course. In fact, I shall lead you on a personally conducted tour of my house. But first, I must insist on bringing out some wine.” He left before she could protest.

  For a brief moment, she felt a sense of relief at being alone and having the opportunity to look around a bit by herself. The great variety of books again caught her interest. She observed there were a vast number on the subject of the occult; however, by and large, the professor’s tastes seemed eclectic.

  After five minutes had passed, she sensed that something wasn’t right. Where had he gone? She decided to look for him. The parlor led out to the main foyer, which she followed to a formal dining room, from there walking into the kitchen. There was no sign of the professor in any of the rooms. She nervously called out his name but got no reply.

  What to do next? She was tempted to simply walk out of the house and forget the whole thing, but she reminded herself she had come for answers. He was the one person who could give them to her. She decided to look around a bit more. Wine was often kept in cellars; maybe he’d gone down for a bottle. She went back to the kitchen where she’d seen several doors; one appeared to lead to a basement, another led outside. Quickly, she looked in the pantry first before going any further. It was stocked with an array of gourmet foods but no sign of the professor. She opened the door to the basement that had stood ajar and found herself at the top of a staircase. It was dark and the atmosphere was close. A strange odor assailed her nostrils, wafting upward from down below. She tried to accustom her eyes to the lack of light, looking for a switch. Groping around, she finally found one. A ghostly light transfixed her surroundings. From the steps she could see the basement very well. It was quite large, apparently extending the length of the house.

  She was very surprised by what her view afforded. The walls of the cellar were black with scarlet tapestries hanging along them. They also effectively blocked off any windows, as if a protection from curious eyes. Light glared down from a fixture in the ceiling shaped like an enormous eye. At the front, or focal point, of the room was some sort of an altar outfitted with an inverted cross. Black candles were set on either side of it. She took a step backward when she realized what she was seeing. This was no ordinary chapel. It must be here to celebrate some sort of Black Mass. The professor had obviously carried his interest in the occult past the stage of mere passive reading. He was involved in some cult of devil worship. The trembling had begun again and would not stop. So this was what Lorette had discovered, what she obviously wanted no part of. Kim turned to go up the stairs.

  “Thinking of leaving so quickly? We haven’t even had our wine as yet.” Forbes seemed to appear from out of nowhere.

  She was hardly able to speak. “I was looking for you.”

  “Ah, well you have found me. Tell me, now that you have seen where our gatherings are held, do you think you would wish to be part of our group?”

  She swallowed hard. This was neither the time nor place to denounce him. “I’ll have to consider it.”

  He grasped her hand. “You’re very cold. Are you frightened, my dear? I assure you that there is no reason to feel fear.” The hypnotic power of his gaze was upon her.

  “Did Lorette die because of this?”

  “No, she did not.” His eyes were directly set on hers. “She did prove a bit squeamish and unstable, which I confess surprised me mightily. I had thought she would fit in perfectly with our little group, our band of brothers, but she did not wish it.”

  The smell of incense assailed her nostrils. “What was she squeamish about?”

  He gave her an enigmatic smile. “Our symbolic sacrifice. Merely a cat, I assure you, but poor Lorette was not as strong in her mind as she would have had others believe. I truly think the girl was ill. It’s clear to me that she either committed suicide in the grip of deep depression or that her death was an accident.”

  “You can say that after I’ve seen this?”

  “My dear, what have you seen, after all?” His satin-smooth voice did little to put her at ease.

  “Quite enough. I believe I want to leave now.”

  “My dear, you truly disappoint me. I had hopes for you. There was something about you. I sensed your need to belong with us. Don’t be afraid to give yourself over to me. You fear freedom just as most people do. Give yourself over to me and you never need to be afraid again.” His voice was smooth, seductive.

  “Who are you? What are you?”

  “Can’t you guess?”

  Oh, she could indeed! “I’m not ready to sell my soul at any price.”

  “Who said any such thing? That is just a foolish literary device. When one devotes one’s existence to Satan, one is rewarded with power. There is no greater power in the universe than evil. It controls the minds and bodies of so many, both spiritually and physically.”

  “You’re insane,” she said.

  “Am I?” He moved into a circle with symbols in lines of red and began chanting words in Latin. “I call for the power of Lucifer!” He raised his hands and looked upward.

  All of a sudden a shaft of light transfigured him. He became incandescent. Kim turned away, blinking, temporarily blinded.

  “See what I have become,” he demanded.

  When she looked again, he was no longer human.

  “I am the temporal incarnation of Satan. Can you, a mere mortal, feel my power?”

  Kim was unable to speak. She turned her back on him, figuratively and literally, taking a final look at his sinister chapel. She would phone the police as soon as she got out of this place of evil. Lieutenant Gardner should be told about what went on here.

  She heard a sound behind her as if someone else were coming hurriedly down the stairs. Before she could turn around, there was an impact. Pain shot through her head.

  FOURTEEN

  Kim’s head ached. It ached so violently that she couldn’t think. She tried to focus her eyes. Where was she? Try to concentrate! Dr. Forbes’ house. The cellar. Darkness. She felt rather than saw steps. Fear ripped at her throat like an attack dog. Her eyes still would not focus. But there was nothing wrong with her sense of smell. What it told her was that there was a fire somewhere nearby. Smoke surrounded her. It was so hard to breathe! She reached outward for the steps. Still she could not see clearly. She forced herself to crawl up the stairs, afraid that someone would hit her again, and tripped on the last step.

  There was a back door by the kitchen, wasn’t there? The smoke was choking her, entering into her lungs. Please God, help me get out of here! She was so dizzy, mind and body wouldn’t function together. She forced herself to the task of opening the door, knowing that her life depended on it. There was air, cool, fresh air. Now she could finally breathe again. She felt a sense of relief. She had no wish to die. But the dizziness returned. Blackness descended again.

  * * * *

  Someone was pushing her, and none too gently; she protested. All she wanted was to sleep. Why wouldn’t they let her sleep? She could sleep forever if they’d just let her alone in peace. She needed to be left in peace. But something, someone, was dragging her, pushing, poking, prodding.

  “You’re alive,” the person said with a sense of relief. “Why didn’t you stay out of it?”

  It was Mike Gardner. He would be the one to find her!

  She felt his strong ar
ms, lifting her protectively. She tried to form words, but no sound would emanate from her throat. Instead, she felt a burning; it hurt to breathe. There didn’t seem to be any air in her lungs.

  “Take it easy,” he said. “There’s an ambulance on the way.”

  He held her against his broad chest. She snuggled against him. Did he caress her cheek? She must have imagined it. It didn’t matter. She felt safe now, comforted.

  * * * *

  When Kim’s mind focused again, her eyes were clouded and every breath was an effort for her lungs. She was in a bubble—no, an oxygen tent. She couldn’t cough or speak. She wanted to struggle against it but felt too weak.

  “You’re all right,” a soothing voice said. She knew the woman meant to calm her, but she wasn’t succeeding. “This is only oxygen. You’re in the hospital. Just breathe slowly and don’t try to move around for now.”

  A few minutes later, Lieutenant Gardner was looking down at her, frowning, his brow wrinkled. “You gave me a good scare. A few more minutes in there and you’d have been a French fry. Why’d you go alone? Damn it, I warned you, didn’t I? By the way, the house burned down. Those old places go up real fast. You can tell me all about it when you’re talking again—or better still, write me a report. I could do with an explanation. Oh, and you’re going to be here a couple of days. They say you’re suffering from a mild concussion as well as smoke inhalation. Could’ve been worse. This is one time having a hard head’s an asset. There’s an address book in your handbag. Who should I phone for you?”

  She shook her head.

  “If you don’t pick somebody, I’ll stay here with you. I don’t want you to be alone. So you decide.”

  Grudgingly, she nodded her head. He had a family, people who would worry if he didn’t come home. It would be unfair to make him stay. But whom could she possibly bother? Ma would get too upset, and she’d already had more than her share of misery. No, she didn’t want Ma to know. Gardner was flipping pages and reading off names; as he read each one, he looked to her for a response. She finally nodded when he said, “Don Bernard,” although why she should agree to bother him was beyond her. She wasn’t even certain she could trust him. But there was no one else. And she had helped Don when his mother died. Still, it was terrible to think in those terms.

  She hated to ask help from anyone. It was one thing to help other people, quite another to ask favors. Never had she done that before. Still, Lieutenant Gardner wasn’t giving her any choice in the matter. She was hurting too much to think anymore; mercifully, she slipped out of consciousness again.

  * * * *

  “Thank God! Good researchers are hard to find.” Don Bernard was squeezing her hand. “Don’t talk. I can do enough of that for both of us. That policeman tells me you’re going to be fine, but he wants someone with you. I’ll stay as long as they let me and then come back tomorrow. What did you think you were doing? You’re a bit old to play Nancy Drew.”

  She tried to reply and found that all she could do was croak.

  “No, don’t try to speak, not for now anyway. The only reason you’re alive is because you managed to get out in time, and the detective got you away quickly. The house burned down. There’s very little left of it.”

  “Forbes?” she managed to choke out.

  He lowered his eyes. “He’s dead, I’m afraid. I don’t know all the details.”

  She stared at him in shock and amazement. Forbes dead? That made no sense at all!

  Don Bernard stayed with her. She hated to admit how much it comforted her to have him there. He held her hand until she fell asleep again.

  * * * *

  Mike Gardner returned the following morning. He understood her when she tried to ask about Forbes.

  “When I got to the house, it was on fire. I found you, but I never got to Forbes. I was there before the firemen arrived. They did their best, but it wasn’t enough. It’s going to take a few days to sift through everything. The word so far is that it looks like arson. You got any idea who might have torched the place?”

  He gave her a notepad and pen.

  Her hand was shaky but she managed to write: I think someone else was there but I didn’t see anybody.

  “Okay, get some rest and we’ll talk again when you’re feeling better.”

  She tried to raise herself but her head began to throb with a dull ache. He seemed to understand; his silver eyes were soft as mist. He put his arms around her and held her supportively.

  “Doc says they’ll keep you another day. You’re doing great. Just keep going along with what they tell you. Don’t look so miserable. It could have been a whole lot worse.” He gave her hand a squeeze as if she were a small child. “Stick to library work instead of Sam Spade stuff. Okay? You wouldn’t want to put me out of a job, would you? I got two girls to support. The cell phone bills alone are enough to bankrupt me.” His complaint was lighthearted; it was obvious he felt genuine affection for his children. She liked him the better for that.

  * * * *

  In her remaining time in the hospital, Kim was poked, prodded and treated like the victim of a vampire. She never fell asleep before midnight and was awakened by the nurses each morning before six. In short, she left the hospital feeling pretty much as though she needed to check into one.

  Gardner must have been keeping track of her, because on the morning she was to be released from the hospital, he showed up.

  “I’m driving you home,” he said. “Your friend the professor has a class to teach. Besides, I think we need to have a little talk, now that you seem to be feeling better.”

  “Lecture?” she asked.

  “Me? Never!” He gave her a broad grin.

  “I guess you got the message I left for you.” She hated the croaking sound of her voice.

  “You’re lucky I got there in time.”

  “I am at that.”

  “I had a hunch something was very wrong. When I got near the house, I could smell the smoke. And you ended up at the professor’s house why?”

  He listened attentively as she told him in as few words as possible about the doll, the phone call to Forbes, her arrival at his house, followed by his strange disappearance.

  “You thought he was up to something?”

  “Yes, something diabolical.” She told him briefly about the discovery in the basement. “It was fixed up like a medieval chapel, only for devil worship. Forbes told me as much.” Her breathing was a little ragged and she paused for a moment. Her voice was still hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

  Gardner didn’t say anything, but waited for her to continue.

  “I went to the professor’s house because I believed that he was the link to the death of Lorette and Sandy. I still believe that.”

  “The city police are in on this with us. Their forensics people are better than ours, and their facilities are larger. They’ve examined the remains of the good professor and found that his skull was bashed in before the fire. He was brain dead before the flames ever touched him.”

  “Then he was killed like Sandy.”

  “And like you almost were.” He gave her a significant look. “I want you to think about this. Why do you believe that someone else was in the house? Did you see or hear anyone?”

  “Not exactly. I didn’t see anyone. But before I was hit, I heard someone.”

  “Probably the killer figured that you were going to die in the fire along with Forbes so it wasn’t necessary to finish you off.”

  “There wasn’t any need, because I really didn’t find out much of anything.”

  “I don’t agree. You found out that Forbes was presiding over a group of devil worshippers. That would have gotten him axed, right? And anyone connected with him would have been in trouble as well.”

  “The university doesn’t want that kind of negative publicity,” she agreed. “But Dr. Forbes did have a reputation for being an eccentric. You can pretty much do as you please when you’re as famous a literary critic as he was.” />
  “Maybe he wouldn’t have to worry, but those connected with him would. I doubt the administration would be all that tolerant or liberal-minded.”

  Gardner was probably right, she decided.

  “The fire was meant to cover up murder and destroy evidence in the cellar. There’s going to be a thorough investigation. I want you out of it from now on. Whoever is murdering university people is really determined and probably demented. He or she has already taken one crack at you. There’s no need for another.”

  “You have my word, Lieutenant.”

  “Girl Scout’s Honor?”

  “I never was one.”

  “Have to have the final word, don’t you? Well, rest your voice for a while.”

  He lifted her into his arms, took her keys and opened the door, carrying her into the apartment. Kim’s pulse raced. Being held by this strong, sexy man thrilled her. They were so close. His eyes lowered and fixed on her lips. For one weird moment, Kim was certain he was going to kiss her, and she realized she wanted him to do exactly that more than anything in this world. Her heart was pounding and she could scarcely catch her breath. What am I thinking? The man has a family. There can’t be anything between us. She stiffened.

  “I can walk,” she protested.

  “Maybe. I’m not taking any chances.”

  Once she was settled on the couch, he went to her refrigerator, rummaged around and brought her a bottle of water.

  Then he sat down beside her.

  “You don’t have to stay,” she told him.

  “Think I’ll hang around for a while. Just consider it part of the service.”

  “You think someone’s going to try to kill me again?”

  “Could be. Drink up.” He tipped the water bottle to her lips.

  “I’m used to taking care of myself.”

  “Yeah, well, we can both see where that got you.” His tone was grim.

  She simultaneously wanted to punch him in the nose and run her hand through his thick, dark hair. She did neither.