by Helen Phifer
He tried to speak, but his eyes were glazed. All he could do was shake his head. Emilia grabbed one arm, Missy the other. They walked him towards his apartment and he shook his head. Emilia frowned at Missy.
‘Well, if you don’t want to go back in there you’re going to have to come up to my place. I can’t have you bleeding everywhere.’ She led him towards the stairs, and they were only three steps up when his door slammed shut. So violently that it made all three of them jump. They walked faster. Emilia let go of his arm to open her front door. She pushed it wide then pushed him and Missy inside before closing the door behind her and locking it. She led Mikey into the spacious, open plan apartment and sat him down at the table. Then she busied herself filling a bowl with cold water, taking a selection of clean dishcloths from the cleaning cupboard that she’d put to one side because they were worn. Then she pulled the first aid kit down from the top shelf of one of the cupboards and sat next to him tenderly unwrapping the heavily, bloodstained cloth from his hand. Both she and Missy gasped to see how deep the gaping wound was that ran the full length of the palm of his hand.
‘Oh dear, I think you might need more than a band aid. We need to get you to the hospital.’
For the first time the man looked Emilia in the eyes and let out a high-pitched laugh. ‘That ain’t going to happen, I pay my rent or I pay the hospital.’
Emilia pressed a cold cloth against the wound, then wrapped some dry ones around it and folded his fingers over it.
‘Keep your arm elevated, I’m not a nurse, but I do know some first aid.’
Missy stood at the sink, watching. ‘Who slammed your door? Is there someone down there we can call to come and help you?’
He shook his head. ‘There’s nobody except me in there.’
‘How did you cut your hand?’
He glared at her. ‘What are you, the senior citizen’s FBI?’
She grinned. ‘Who told you?’
For the first time he relaxed and smiled. ‘Sorry, I know you’re just trying to help and I appreciate it. I’m just a little bit shook up.’
Emilia removed the cloths, rewrapping fresh ones around again. ‘Well I’m Emilia and the inquisitive one over there is Missy. You are Mikey if I’m not mistaken.’
‘I am.’
‘So, Mikey, there is no wind blowing through the building because the front door is shut. Do you want to tell me how your front door slammed shut so hard the whole building shook?’
He lowered his eyes. ‘I don’t think you really want to know.’
‘Well, you can let me be the judge of that. You came out of your apartment looking like—’
Missy interrupted. ‘Looking like some fool who had scared himself shitless and sliced his hand open in the process. Am I close?’
‘Missy.’
‘I’m right, Em; look at the state of him. I’ve never seen a black man so white and that ain’t me being racist because that’s not who I am and I never have been.’
Emilia looked at Mikey who was staring across the table at Missy.
‘There is something in my apartment, I don’t know what the hell it is. It sure isn’t human that’s for real. Now you can blame it on the pot, I smoke it every day I’m not denying it. But this was no hallucination. Whatever it was, it tried to kill me.’
He looked at them, waiting for them to laugh at him, to call him crazy. Instead both of the women were staring at him in horror and he knew then that he wasn’t crazy. He knew that what had happened was as real as he was and they both knew what he was talking about.
Missy came and sat down opposite him. She looked at Emilia. ‘It’s getting stronger.’
Mikey shook his head. ‘Damn, I was hoping you two were crazier than me. I don’t know. Maybe we all crazy, this stuff doesn’t exist, except for in the movies.’
Emilia spoke. ‘It does in this house. I’m sorry, I had no idea it was able to do that.’
‘Well, I’d like to know what it was and how it tried to suffocate me when I couldn’t see it? I can’t get my head around it.
Missy shrugged.
Emilia spoke. ‘A very long time ago my brother bought a Ouija board and a book of witchcraft. He decided to sacrifice a young woman and summon a demon.’
Mikey laughed, so loud both women jumped. They waited for him to contain himself. He shook his head.
‘I’m sorry, but it’s not the usual thing is it? I thought you were going to say it was your dead Aunt’s ghost, seeking revenge. Are you for real?’
As he spoke he realized that neither woman was smiling, they were wide eyed. Terrified… and he felt the seriousness of the situation all three of them were in come crashing down on his shoulders.
‘Sorry, I’m sorry. That was crass of me. You are for real? It’s just kind of hard to believe.’
‘Is it? Minutes ago you were telling us that an invisible force had tried to kill you. Did you think it was a load of crap when you were on your knees thinking you were dying?’
‘Missy, there’s no need to be so rude.’ Emilia looked at Mikey. ‘Yes, this is all true, I have no reason to lie. You can look it all up, go on Boogle or whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll find something about this house on there.’
‘Google,’ Missy corrected her.
‘Then we have a problem.’
Emilia could have hugged the man sitting next to her. He’d lived here for years and she’d never said anything more than good day to him. He wasn’t going to leave them alone to fight it. Missy didn’t stop herself, she stood up. Walked around to Mikey and wrapped her arms around him, whispering, ‘Thank you,’ into his ear, they would take all the help they could get.
Chapter Twenty-Five
June 1952
Mae was trailing her finger along a row of leather-bound books. She loved to read almost as much as she loved to act. The door opened and she turned to see a handsome, younger version of Clarke standing there.
‘Well, hello. You must be James, I’m a friend of your Pa’s. I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced.’
She crossed the room, holding out her hand which he took. Instead of shaking it he lifted it to his mouth, brushing his lips so softly over the back of her hand that it sent a shudder down her spine. He stared at her, his huge, dark almost black eyes drawing her in. She felt a sudden rush as her foolish heart began to pump the blood around her body faster. Her stomach swooshed and she felt a sudden rush of warm heat fill her panties. She let out a small gasp, the feelings taking her completely by surprise. James raised his eyebrow, aware of the effect he was having on the beautiful woman standing in front of him and enjoying every second.
She laughed, but her voice quivered. ‘Well, James, it’s very nice to meet you.’ She tried to pull her hand away from him, needing to get some space between them. He didn’t let go. Instead he ran his finger along it, the pressure in her panties made her squeeze her thighs together. She had never felt such arousal. She wanted to throw herself at him and beg him to make love to her there and then, and he knew it. He was enjoying watching her squirm, her mind emptied of all rational thoughts. She wanted this man, inside of her and that was all that mattered. He leant forward, his mouth pressing against hers. He kissed her with such passion that she felt her knees go weak. Pulling apart he took hold of her hand, pressing it against the hard bulge in the front of his trousers. She ran her tongue along her bright red lips. He grabbed her hand, pulling her.
‘Not here, upstairs. I don’t want to be disturbed, I want to lick and bite every single part of you.’
Mae smiled. The thought was almost too much to bear and she followed him along the hallway towards the back of the house. He led her to a staircase that she’d never seen before and realized it must be the staff stairs. She didn’t care. He could take her here on the bare, wooden staircase and she’d have let him. He rushed upstairs, lifting his finger to his lips. She kicked off her shoes so they wouldn’t clatter on the wooden steps. Damn this was wrong, cheating on Clarke wit
h his son. She didn’t care. She wanted to lie on his bed and be fucked. She would deal with the aftermath later, right now she wanted James. Inside her, biting, sucking and doing anything he desired. She let him pull her up the stairs. Unable to shake the trance like state she was in, they reached the tiny attic staircase. They went up and he opened the door.
The room was in darkness, candles were burning on the table in the middle of the room and it was much colder up here than the rest of the house. He pulled her inside, closing and locking the door behind him.
‘I don’t want anyone disturbing us, I want you so much.’
He kissed her again, crushing his mouth against hers and she leant into him. He scooped her up, into his arms. Carrying her into the bedroom, kicking the door open with his foot. Mae’s nose wrinkled, there was a terrible smell in here. Then she was on the soft bed and he was removing her stockings. A loud thud from the corner of the room made her jump.
‘What’s that? Who’s there?’
He laughed. ‘No-one, it’s just you and me, baby. Close your eyes and relax, I’m going to eat you up.’
The smell of rotting garbage was overpowering, suddenly every bit of passion and lust that she’d been feeling moments before disappeared. Something or someone else was in this room. She pushed him off.
‘I don’t like it in here, it smells really bad.’
James stared down at her. The face she’d thought was dashing moments ago looked nothing like it now and for the first time in her life Mae felt the cold, hard, reality of fear bearing down on her. She needed to get out of the dark, foul room. Back down into the warmth and the light, she wanted Clarke. He always made her feel safe and she’d been about to betray his love and trust in the most shameful way that she could think of.
‘You don’t mean that do you?’
Her mouth was dry and her stomach began to churn, every lustful feeling from moments ago had turned into disgust. She twisted herself away from him and stood up. Not even bothering about her stockings or shoes she backed away from him, towards the door. He started to laugh and she made a break for the door, it wouldn’t open. With what little light there was she couldn’t make out any locks, twisting the door knob and tugging as hard as she could it didn’t budge. James was still laughing.
‘Let me out or I’ll tell your Pa.’
He laughed even louder and began to clap. ‘Now how are you going to do that, you cheap whore? He’s not in and you’re locked in this room with the two of us for company. I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere, ever again.’
She knew there was someone else in here. Mae opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. A hand clamped across her mouth so tight that she couldn’t breathe. She tried to bite down on it, but she couldn’t. She struggled against the rope which had been looped around her neck. Clawing at his hands trying to make him to loosen his grip. Silver specks began to float across her eyes and then the room went black.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Frankie downed the last of his coffee, pushed the file he was reading away and stretched. ‘I’m going to have to call it a day, I want to go home and shower before our dancing lesson.’
Maria looked at him in wide-eyed horror. ‘Crap, is that tonight?’
‘Don’t tell me you forgot.’
‘I’m so sorry, Frankie, I did. I have other plans now.’ She didn’t know if she could tell him about the text she’d got an hour ago from Harrison, especially now he was looking at her like a four year old looks when he’s told he can’t have a candy bar.
‘Oh, it’s okay. I guess I can go on my own tonight.’
‘Are you sure? I’ll be there next week, I promise.’
He nodded. She waited for him to ask, although she didn’t want him to ask because she didn’t want to have to lie to him. She’d never lied to him, but she had no idea how he’d take being blown off for a rich man. He stood up, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.
‘Thanks for the coffee and the food. I’ll catch you tomorrow.’
‘Have fun at your dancing class.’
He didn’t laugh, he smiled, waved his hand at her and walked out of the door, leaving her feeling bad for letting him down. He shut the door a little louder than he usually did.
Maria whispered. ‘Shit, Frankie I’m not your wife. You don’t need to be so pissed with me.’
She looked at the contents of the box that were spread across her table; there had been no Satanic bible which she’d been kind of glad about. She wasn’t sure she wanted anything like that in her house, who knew what kind of stuff it might attract. The pictures were gruesome, black and white stills. The house was gorgeous from the outside: window boxes filled with flowers, the glass on the windows and doors gleaming it was so clean. Who would have guessed what horrors it held inside? The inside had been photographed and it was decadent to say the least: crystal chandeliers, polished wooden floors, gleaming brass door knobs, huge vases filled with fresh flowers. She would have loved to have visited it back then. There was nothing to show anything was amiss on any of these photographs. The ground, first and second, floors were immaculate. It was only when the photographer reached the attic that the tone of the photographs changed dramatically. The heavy, wooden door was pushed open to reveal a glimpse of the pooling blood on the floor. As he’d stepped inside and began to photograph, Maria wondered if he’d gasped, shocked by the horror of what he was capturing through his lens. The attic walls had writing all over them, symbols that she didn’t recognize and many dark patches of blood. When the photographer had captured the surroundings, he’d focused on the body. Maria couldn’t look at it any longer, she shuffled the pictures together. Placing them and the typed-up police reports back into the box, next to the brown paper bags of the victims, heavily bloodstained clothes, she then put the lid on the box and picked it up. Carrying it to the closet she placed it on the floor, not wanting to be reminded about it every time she saw it. The fact that it had happened so long ago didn’t matter. The horror was still as fresh to Maria. This had been brutal. An act of pure evil. She wanted to know what the writing and symbols on the walls said. This meant she was going to have to track down either a bookshop or a professor who might know something about Satanic symbols and demonology because this was way beyond her realm of knowledge. Frankie had pretended he knew a little. She didn’t want to discourage him, but she knew this was way out of both of their leagues. They needed to find a professional who could explain it to them in layman’s terms. What it looked like was some kind of ritual killing, and at the time they’d locked the perp up as a lunatic in the nearest mental institution. It didn’t look as if anyone had bothered to find out what he was doing and why? There were no notes explaining what any of it had meant. They hadn’t cared. They had a body and they had their killer. That was all that mattered. Plus he was from a wealthy family, so they would have no doubt paid to have had him taken care of. The lack of newspaper reports surprised her; there were some, but in her opinion, only minimal coverage. She’d never heard about it and she’d been born and bred in New York along with her entire family.
She walked into the bathroom and began to fill the tub for a nice soak to wash away the horrors. Going back into the kitchen she opened the fridge, taking out an almost empty, cold bottle of Pinot Grigio. She poured its contents into a wine glass and took a sip. Kicking off her shoes she sat down on the sofa, curling her legs underneath her. Today had been one hell of a crazy day. She suddenly remembered Miss Green, she hadn’t checked on her. Taking a huge mouthful of wine she forced herself to stand up, placing the glass on the table. She padded across to the front door, opened it and stepped into the hallway. Leaving the apartment door ajar, she crept down to Miss Green’s and knocked on the door, waiting to hear her shuffling along the carpeted hallway. There was no sound. Maria stepped forward and pressed her ear against the door. There was no noise. She rapped again, much louder. This was a cop knock that she usually reserved for work, the ‘no shit answer the fucki
ng door’ knock. Still no reply, ‘Hello are you there? It’s Maria.’ A hand touched her shoulder. ‘Holy shit.’ She screeched so loudly that Miss Green jumped more than she did.
‘Jesus, Maria, you’re giving me a coronary over here. What’s wrong with you?’
Maria laughed. ‘Geez, I’m so sorry. I’ve been trying to catch hold of you all day. Are you okay?’
For a split second Maria could tell that the old lady standing in front of her was not okay and would probably never be okay again. Then the reserved, polite and smiling Miss Green took over and she nodded her head.
‘I’ve been to visit a very old friend today, a long overdue visit if I’m honest. Oh, and yes dear I’m fine. Just a little bit tired, it’s been emotional.’
‘If you’re sure, you know if there’s anything I can do I will. You just have to ask.’
Her friend leant up and kissed her cheek. ‘I know you will lovely, thank you.’
‘Oh shoot, my bath. I have to go, I have a date.’
The smile that spread across Miss Green’s face lit her up. ‘Well then, don’t be wasting your time talking to an old broad like me. Go and get yourself all beautiful, I hope he’s the one who’s been sending you those gorgeous flowers.’
‘He is, it’s nothing serious. We’re just friends, sort of.’
‘That’s how it should be. Now go – shoo – get ready. Tomorrow we’ll have a nice pot of tea and you can tell me how it went. I’ll be waiting for the full details so don’t go disappointing me, Maria. Life’s too short to spend it on your own.’
Maria laughed and rushed back into her apartment, locking the door she ran into the bathroom and turned off the taps. The bath was almost full, she’d have to watch she didn’t flood the apartment below when she got into it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Frankie parked in the underground garage, he was home much earlier than normal when he was working a late shift. He wanted a shower before he went dancing, so was hoping that Christy wasn’t home yet. He spotted her car, but that didn’t mean she was home. Like Maria she often walked to work. He opened the door and walked inside holding his breath. If there was the slightest chance of Christy finding out what he was up to it wouldn’t work. This was going to be his last attempt to put some life back into their very stale marriage. He wasn’t going to stay with her if she didn’t care, he had feelings for Maria that ran far deeper than any he’d ever had for his wife. It was wrong, but they made such a great couple. The apartment was empty, he checked each room. The spare room was much tidier than the last time he’d been in it. The bed was made up with what looked like expensive, cotton bedding. He crossed to the bed, stroking the covers. This was nice, much nicer than what was on their bed and he wondered why on earth she’d gone to so much bother. Had she said they were having visitors and he’d not heard? That was always a possibility; he did have a habit of switching off when she was talking. Loosening his tie and undoing the buttons on his shirt he walked into the kitchen to get a cold beer. If he was going dancing on his own he was going to need a bit of a helping hand with his nerves from Mr Sam Adams. A loud buzzing noise behind him made him turn around to see Christy’s phone vibrating on the kitchen counter. Not really thinking he picked it up even though he wasn’t into the habit of reading the messages on her phone. He saw Adam’s picture flash across the screen and he wondered why his brother was texting his wife. Sliding the screen across he was surprised she didn’t have a pass code on it. Then again, she was even worse with technology than he was. He read the message twice, not quite sure if he was reading it right.