The Inferno Collection

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The Inferno Collection Page 21

by Jacqueline Seewald


  “Yeah, I guess I did at that. He had this way of probing into people. It was scary. He asked me questions about Lorette and I was dumb enough to tell him what he wanted to know. That’s what made her so angry with me.”

  “Who else was in his chosen group?”

  “Damned if I know! I was only invited once myself and didn’t go.”

  “Before Lorette was invited?”

  “That’s right.”

  She wondered if he was lying again. Then Rita came up to them, and there was no chance for further private discussion.

  “Really, Kim, you’re taking much too long with this young man. Have you seen the line waiting at the desk? I will finish with him. I’m quicker than you are it would seem. Now hurry back to the desk!”

  She went back to the information desk. Nor did she get to talk to Jim again as she’d hoped. He had disappeared from the library by the time she could look around for him.

  She decided the best thing to do was to let Gardner know about Jim’s connection to Forbes. Finally, she’d found another link. Even if he wasn’t a member of Forbes’ select group, he might know more than he’d told her. As soon as Rita left for the night, Kim excused herself, left the graduate assistant, Judy Bryant, a young Irish exchange student, on the floor alone, and went back to her own office. She phoned Gardner’s home again, sure that he would not be at the police station now. This time she got one of his daughters, who sounded young and sweet; the girl explained that her dad was watching his favorite police show on television.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Kim said when he finally got on the phone, “but I wanted to tell you two things. First, Jim Davis had more involvement with Dr. Forbes than he admitted. I thought you might want to question him.”

  “I won’t even ask how you found out. We’ll get on him. Next?”

  She cleared her throat. “Lorette asked me about an inferno collection at the library. I believe that collection is here locked up in my supervisor’s office. I’m going to look through it tonight. I think it’s a definite lead, a crucial one.”

  “Get out of there! We’ll get a search warrant.”

  “By then, it could be gone. I have an intuition about this. No, it’s tonight or never.”

  “Listen to me, I don’t like it, and there’s something else you should know…”

  “Got to go, Lieutenant.”

  She cut him off and hung up the telephone. Wasting time arguing just wasn’t smart. She probably should have waited to tell him about the inferno collection until she’d actually examined it like she originally intended. The devil was in the details, wasn’t it? If there was something here that she should know about, it was time to take a close look. Lorette had considered it important. Time to find out. She took a deep breath and let it out shakily. She had promises to keep.

  TWENTY-ONE

  The key to the inferno collection was just where she’d found it before. Wendell Firbin was too fastidious for anything else. She unlocked the mirrored cabinet and quickly looked inside. The manuscripts were very old and fragile, delicate to the touch. She had noted that previously, but this time she would be able to examine them. She felt a sense of mounting excitement.

  Kim moved Wendell’s desk chair over so that she could sit and read. A set of bound papers caught her eye and she lifted them to her with infinite care. Incunabulum. The manuscript was printed before 1501 and had to be priceless. She examined the black leather-bound sheets gently but more thoroughly. It was a Latin Bible, but not like any she had ever seen before. She continued to study it, fascinated by the peculiar book. Her Latin was not the best, but she understood enough. Without a doubt, it was an inverted Bible, the kind witches would use to celebrate a Black Mass. She would have supposed that such a thing would have been burned long ago, denounced along with the heretics who valued it.

  She laid it aside and selected yet another manuscript for close perusal. This was not quite so old; she placed it as seventeenth or eighteenth century.

  It was a diary, she saw at once. The handwriting was small and spiky. The name inside was Abigail Williams—the girl who started the Salem witchcraft trials. Kim tried to remember: had Abigail been accused of witchcraft or had she accused others? Perhaps she’d done both.

  Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her and her heart began to beat rapidly. She turned around.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  Her mouth seemed unable to form words, her saliva thickening to the consistency of sour cream. Wendell Firbin was staring at her wrathfully. For a moment, she had a sense of déjà vu. For a brief second, it was Carl she was looking at.

  “I was about to glance at these old documents.”

  “Ah, but you’ve already seen enough, haven’t you?”

  “Enough for what?”

  “Don’t play childish games with me. I won’t have it.” He was practically snarling at her.

  “I realize you’re going to fire me,” she responded, swallowing hard.

  “Stop your babbling. What are you doing here?”

  She was trying to do something that mattered, to find out who murdered Lorette and the others. However, that was not the thing to tell Wendell; she knew that instinctively.

  “The cabinet has an interesting look. I thought to examine it more closely.”

  “Of course, you did. You’re a very curious individual, aren’t you, just like a cat? And you know what happened to the cat, don’t you?”

  “The cat?” she repeated.

  “Why yes, curiosity killed it.” He gave her a smile that flashed pearly teeth she associated with a hungry tiger. He seemed to take great satisfaction in unnerving her.

  Her mouth opened wide as the realization hit her. Of course, how could she have been so stupid not to see it in the first place? The inferno collection was in Wendell’s office, entrusted to him for safety. It could only be because he was a member of Lionel Forbes’ chosen group. And that comment about a cat jarred something in her memory; hadn’t Dr. Forbes said something about sacrificing a cat? That act had appalled Lorette.

  “I have to leave now,” she said, trying to get out of the chair, but Wendell’s hand pushed back on her shoulder forcefully. “Really, I must go. Judy needs me out there to close up for the night.”

  “I took care of that myself. She’s gone, as you will soon be.”

  “Well then, I might as well be on my way.”

  “You and I will leave together. We’ll take your car.” He smiled again, an eerie distortion of his facial muscles.

  “Sorry, I have other plans.”

  “How unfortunate. Lionel thought so well of you. I, of course, knew better. He never was a good judge of character or the lack of it. Too full of himself, thought he knew everything.”

  “Where is Dr. Forbes?”

  “You’ll see him soon enough.”

  “He wanted me to join the chosen. Perhaps I should consider it.”

  “I believe it’s been decided that the coven has no need of new members.”

  “But you are a member or two short.”

  “Let’s not play mind games. Time to be on our way.” His eyes were as icy as a winter lake.

  She found herself shivering, knowing what he was about. “I have no intention of going anywhere with you.”

  “That remains to be seen.” Wendell removed a revolver from his jacket pocket and aimed it at her chest.

  She realized that she was trembling uncontrollably. “They’ll know.”

  “No, they won’t. And no one will care. Shall I tell you how you’re going to die? Very peacefully, as it would happen. I have cocaine in my pocket. Did you know it mixes with liquid quite nicely in its powder form? You will have a nice little drink, a nightcap. I’ll wash the glass clean, put it back in your hand after you’re dead, and no one will be the wiser. It will look as if you died of natural causes, a heart attack. The cocaine will deactivate the vagus nerve that helps regulate heart rate. Once cocaine hits the brain, it triggers a jolt of adrenal
ine. At the same time, it blocks the body’s ability to reabsorb the adrenaline. The rush overworks the heart and disrupts the signals being sent from the brain to the heart resulting in cardiac arrest. Fascinating drug, cocaine, so many uses. I’ve made a study of it.”

  “You used it to kill Lorette.” She accused him with unblinking eyes.

  “Quite true. Your little friend Sandy was very high when I took care of her as well. Nick was even simpler. I merely gave him an overdose and then disposed of the body.”

  “And Dr. Forbes? Is he the evil genius behind this?”

  Wendell pressed his fingers to the sides of his long, narrow nose as if in pain. “In a manner of speaking. This entire fiasco is his fault. Lionel thought he could do whatever he wished. When he told me how he invited you to the house, I knew that he had become dangerous to himself as well as others. I was in the house at the time, waiting upstairs for the right moment to dispose of both of you. I am sorry I ever became involved with that egomaniacal fool! At first, he was my mentor and I his disciple, like Emerson was to Thoreau. But I had to protect myself and my career. Your friend Lorette threatened Lionel with telling all about his activities to the president of the university. She overheard Lionel discussing the inferno collection with me the one night she came to our worship. I was certain she would implicate me.”

  “You were the one who tried to ruin her reputation.”

  “It was necessary. But she blamed Lionel because he knew about her past history. She didn’t know that Lionel discussed his choices with me and told me about each candidate’s background.”

  “All that killing. It’s total insanity! Why murder Sandy and Nick as well?”

  “Lionel spoke to me about the inferno collection in their presence, and your friend was with them. Very careless of Lionel. Until that night, no one but Lionel ever saw me directly or knew of the collection. I remained an anonymous hooded, cloaked figure at the ceremonies. The morning you were late coming to work, your friend came looking for you, and I saw my opportunity. She’d recognized me. I told her that Lionel had destroyed her reputation and that I would tell the university administration all about his rituals and his use of the inferno collection. I offered to meet her at noon by her automobile and follow her home to hand her proof.”

  “So that was why Lorette didn’t meet me.”

  “You have my assurance the killing will end tonight, with you.”

  “What if I don’t choose to leave here with you?”

  “If you make any sort of scene, I will instantly inject you with this syringe. You may die just as your friend did.” He removed a hypodermic needle from his jacket pocket and displayed it inches from her face.

  Kim forced herself to think clearly, rationally. “You’ll have to lock up the collection,” she said.

  He gave her that awful smile again. “You’re so easy to read. You lock it up. I won’t be turning my back on you for an instant.”

  She did as he told her, then he took the key and put it back where it belonged, never removing his eyes from her. Although the gun went back into his pocket, an iron hand descended painfully on her arm.

  “Don’t think of trying to fight me or my response will be immediate.”

  As she moved through the library, a sense of unreality came over her. This was not happening; she was not held in the grip of a killer. She had to force herself to think, not give in to fear or panic. Outside, with any luck, there was a policeman waiting for her. He would intervene. It would be all right.

  “Where are we going?” She noticed with alarm that he was pulling her toward the side exit.

  “No one will observe us leaving this way.”

  “You want me to drive my car, don’t you? My car in on the deck. We have to go out the front entrance.”

  “All right,” he conceded grudgingly, “but if you try to make a single move to alert anyone, you’re dead instantly.”

  She made no answer or protest. Arguing with Wendell only enraged him; she’d finally caught on to that. The man was anal retentive, a total control freak. She must not speak. The night enveloped them in damp, cold and fog. She saw no sign of the police car now and wondered at it. Had they given up on her? After her call to Gardner, did he call his people off?

  “What’s wrong with you? Keep moving.”

  Wendell squeezed her arm until she cried out. She forced her legs to continue relentlessly to her car. The deck was deserted, as it often was at that time of the evening. There was no one to turn to for help. She would have to think of something.

  Her hand shook so badly that her car keys fell to the ground before she was able to open the car door.

  “Clumsy cow!” he insinuated in her ear.

  Don’t answer, she reminded herself. She managed the lock this time.

  “Drive,” he commanded.

  She turned the engine over. All she could think of was that she wanted to go home, to be with Ma again, to feel safe. But she hadn’t been safe there either, had she? There had been Carl until just before she graduated high school, until he had done that terrible thing and killed those people for no sane reason. He’d been sick, just like Wendell was sick.

  “What are you waiting for? Get out of here!”

  “If you’re going to kill me anyway, why should I do what you say?”

  She had infuriated him now; she could see that in the wildly angry look he was throwing at her, but his voice remained quiet, insidiously smooth.

  “You want me to kill you right here and now? It makes no difference to me.”

  She wasn’t volunteering to be his next victim. She pulled out of the parking deck and into the street, signaling carefully. Keep calm! Signal every move. They’re out there looking to help. Don’t give up!

  Even if the police couldn’t help her, she wouldn’t give in to fear. She could hear Ma’s voice in her head: God helps those who help themselves. It was Ma’s favorite saying. She felt comforted. Nick’s knife was still in her handbag. If she could find a way to reach inside, she might have a chance against Wendell. She would wait for the right moment and seize her opportunity.

  “You know I’m your intellectual superior, don’t you?” he said suddenly.

  “As long as you hold that gun against me, I won’t argue the point.”

  “Drive faster, but not too fast. Don’t even think of attracting the attention of the police.”

  They were out on the highway when she noticed the car tailing them. No, it was not her imagination. So the police hadn’t given up on her.

  Gardner, I need you. Help me!

  “What are you watching?” He looked around and caught sight of the unmarked car. “Switch lanes,” he ordered.

  She said nothing, following his orders. The other car stayed with them.

  “Lose him!”

  “How do you expect me to do that?”

  “The same way you got rid of me the other night. Do anything less and you’ll regret it.” His voice hissed menacingly into her ear.

  He began giving her directions, telling her what to do and where to go. They wouldn’t be heading to her apartment after all, now that he understood the police were following.

  “Why don’t I just drop you off somewhere?”

  “You have a bizarre notion of humor.”

  “It comes from too many years of teaching adolescents,” she said. “Look, you have to realize that the police are on to you.”

  He laughed out loud. “Delightful, really! You would actually expect me to believe that?”

  “Why not? I figured it out, didn’t I?”

  “Did you? Well, perhaps you did. But you’re certainly the only one. The police are idiots.”

  It occurred to her that Wendell was nothing more than a bully who got off on intimidating people he considered weak, women in particular. But like most bullies, he was really a coward at heart. Cowering was pointless; it would just encourage his insanity.

  “They will find you,” she said. She could have told him that the police a
lready knew about the inferno collection in his office. But if he did manage to kill her, and the odds didn’t seem to be in her favor at the moment, then she didn’t want Wendell forewarned. He might dispose of the collection.

  “You’ll be found dead in your automobile in an isolated location.”

  “I described your car to the police. They’re bound to locate you.”

  He gave a mirthless laugh. “That was Lionel’s car. I simply borrowed it. He had no further use for it, and it was perfect for my purposes. However, you did prove temporarily elusive. I must remember to thank Mary Parkins for mentioning to me that she’d seen you in my office. I realized you had to have borrowed the keys from Rita. She’s the only other person I’ve trusted with a complete set. I scheduled the two of you to work together again tonight because I thought I’d catch you looking through the inferno collection. And then I watched and waited and then pounced. So you see, I’ve been on to you for some time. You wanted to destroy me. Well, it is I who will destroy you, squash you like an insect.”

  The trembling had begun again. She had to gain control of herself. She no longer saw the police car in the mirror. Her efforts to lose the police had been halfhearted at best, but apparently they’d succeeded. Wendell’s awareness of the situation was obvious. He looked smug and pleased with himself, the nostrils of his narrow nose flaring.

  “Straight ahead for now. I’ll let you know when and where to turn.”

  In the self-defense course it now seemed she’d taken too briefly, the instructor told the class it was important to keep the mind tranquil in moments of extreme stress or danger. In a pond without a ripple, there were no distortions, only reality. She focused on keeping her mind a calm pool. The Twenty-third Psalm ran through her brain: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” Then she recalled that the psalm was always recited at funerals and shuddered. No, that was not reassuring. She must keep focused, even if her mind felt as if it were numbed with Novocain.

  “Why are you slowing down?”

  “Was I?”

 

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