by Thomas Amo
"Think I could get a refund?" joked Summers.
"I doubt it, but if you want to break into it, I have no problem looking the other way," joked Jessalee in return. "Seriously though, what brings you here in the middle of the night? Is it the explosion and fire at The Aleris?"
"Is that what the bright light in the sky was? I saw that. I thought it was a firework at first. I saw it for miles before I got into the city. No actually I'm here to talk with Inspector Thomas James."
Jessalee shifted in her chair and wondered why the F.B.I. was here looking for Tom. Just thinking his name gave her shivers again. She still couldn't shake the image of him coming down the stairs into the lobby, covered in blood, looking like an axe murderer. The blank stare in his eyes and Kirkland's badge still clutched in his hand so tightly that it left a cut that required seven stitches. Raising her hand to her mouth she quickly caught herself, forcing the tears back as she tried to fight thoughts of Kirkland.
Summers could see Jessalee's emotional reaction to the subject of Thomas James. "Oh my God, I'm sorry, did I say something upsetting or offensive to you?"
"No, no it's just our department has had a really bad night, we lost some good people tonight in that fire," said Jessalee wiping a tear from her cheek.
"Inspector James wasn't one of them was he?"
"No, but he's being kept here overnight for observation."
"Observation?" quizzed Summers. "I thought he was here at the hospital working a 187. You mean he's a patient?"
"Yeah?" said Jessalee in a confused tone. "You thought he was here working a homicide? Which one?"
Summers returned Jessalee's look of confusion. "I don't know. I phoned this evening around six to arrange to drive up and do an interview with him and was told he was working a homicide at the hotel. When I got into the city I called back and your dispatch said he was here, so I just assumed," she trailed off.
"Interview?" asked Jessalee.
"Yes, his name has come up in a case I'm working on in Hollywood," said Summers, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to ascertain the motivation behind Jessalee's insistence for information. Was there a private relationship she was trying to hide between the inspector and herself, Summers wondered? Or was she nosey?
"Forgive me for being so blunt, but why does this seem to be so personal with you?"
"The murder he was working on, was..." Jessalee hesitated. "The victim was my sister."
"What is your sisters name?"
"Valerie Rivera."
Summers suddenly felt cold. She stood and placed her coffee cup on the table when she began to feel that feeling that came from years of experience. That overwhelming sense you get when you realize you're in danger.
"The hotel Inspector James was at when I called earlier, was that The Aleris?" asked Summers in a hollow tone. Jessalee sensed the agent's change in body language. She turned and looked at Summers, who still was facing away from her.
"Yes."
"And your sister was the victim. Was your sister in room 1219?"
"Yes, who told you that?" asked Jessalee defensively. But Jessalee knew in her heart that no one had, suddenly she was overcome with the same feeling that had hit Summers only moments before.
"The case you're working on. The one in Hollywood, it's connected to my sister's murder somehow, isn't it?"
Summers placed both hands on the edge of the table and gripped it tightly. She hung her head down and swallowed hard. She then nodded yes.
"Your sister's murder, it's Virginia Rappe isn't it?"
"Yes," said Jessalee fearing the worst. "And the case you're working on, which murder is it?"
Summers slowly turned back to face Jessalee. Her body shivered involuntary as she spoke the two words that confirmed the fears of both women.
"Black Dahlia."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Black Dahlia
Thomas James slept soundly and for the first time since the Carlyle homicide, his mind found peace. Quietly the nurse stepped into his room and checked him. She tried to not disturb Summers and Jessalee who were also both asleep, propped up in chairs on opposite sides of his bed.
The early morning sounds of San Francisco had begun to creep through the partially open window. The nurse checked her watch. It was four a.m. As she stepped out of the room, Summers awoke with a start. She quickly looked around trying to figure out where she was. Everything was blurry. She felt her face and realized her glasses were off. She saw them laying on the nightstand on top of her gun. As she reached for them she noticed there was a dark figure standing at edge of the bed. The figure was watching her. She quickly tried to get her wits about her and grabbed at her glasses, but when she put them on the figure was gone.
Slightly unnerved, Summers stretched and stood up. Then she walked to the open doorway. Jessalee and James were both still sleeping, so she quietly stepped into the hallway and looked around. It was dark and still and the two officers who had been assigned to watch James were still away on their four-hour break. Jessalee was too nice thought Summers. Looking to her left she noticed a lone lamp illuminating the nurse's station at the end of the hallway. Brushing her hair from her eyes, Summers proceeded to walk down to the station, but once she was there she noticed no one was around. Where was everyone? she wondered.
"Hello?" she called. There was no answer. "This is just damn odd," she said to herself. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Summers saw Inspector James's chart lying on the station desk. She started to lean over the desk to pick it up when a noise in the darkened hallway behind the station caught her attention.
"Hello?" she called again, starting to feel nervous. An involuntary shiver ran down her back. She looked right and left to see if there was any sign of another person around. Summers wanted to see James' chart, but didn't want to get caught looking at it. Then her inner voice reminded her she was a federal agent and she could do pretty much whatever she wanted. Giving in, Summers decided to throw caution to the wind and walked behind the desk to pick it up. As she rounded the corner, she saw an empty shoe on the floor. Her eyebrows knitted into instant look of puzzlement. Directly behind her she heard another noise coming from the darkened hallway. She turned and tried to see what was down there. Her chest rose and fell as she took in a deep yet frustrated breath. Looking to her right Summers could tell she was exactly four rooms away from where Inspector James and Jessalee were sleeping. Then the noise happened again. It seemed to be directly in front of her, and no more than 10 feet away.
"Hello," she said with more authority in her voice this time. Reaching in front of her to find a light switch she felt the plastic nub was already in the up position. She pushed it down and then up again. There was no change. She flicked it several times just to be certain.
"Crap," she hissed, pulling her hand away. She turned back to reach for the chart when she realized the inside of her palm was red. Quickly raising her hand to her eyes, Summers sucked in a breath. Her hand was red from blood. She spun back to face the hallway. Slowly reaching behind herself she found the desk lamp and picked it to illuminate the light switch. It was smeared with a blood that trailed away into the hallway's darkness. Quickly reaching for her gun, Summers suddenly felt the shock of her empty holster. Her fear mounting as she remembered her gun was on the nightstand. Moving the lamp into her other hand she pointed the light to the floor. There a deep, wet scarlet streak of blood which like the hand smear, continued into the darkness of the hallway. Boldly taking a step backwards Summers froze, convinced she had heard a low snicker of laughter.
She still had the lamp in her hand, but it began to shake from her nervousness. Summers looked back at the distance to where James and Jessalee were. She wondered how long it would take her to get there. Could she reach her gun? Would she have enough time? Quietly as she could Summers took another step backwards, the giggle changed into a growl. She was certain if she called out who ever it was would know that she was alone and vulnerable.
Summers wanted to careful
ly replace the lamp back on the desk and try to make her way back to the room. She knew in her gut that whatever was waiting in the back of the dark hallway knew she was aware of its presence. She also knew at this point she didn't dare turn her back to what ever it was. Frozen in place Summers wished someone would show up. Anyone. In her mind she was screaming for Jessalee to wake up and come look for her. She would just have to risk it and move as slowly as she could.
Jessalee's eyes popped open wide with shock. A hand covered her mouth tightly. Reaching up she tried to pry the hand from her mouth. Her eyes looked up to see the wild frightened stare of Ashton Summers holding her finger to her mouth, giving her the universal gesture for silence. Jessalee nodded in agreement. Summers released her grip and quickly dashed around the other side of the bed and grabbed her gun. She quickly attempted to place a round into the chamber.
"What's wrong with my gun?"
Jessalee sat up and started to speak. Summers shook her head violently in a no pattern. Just as quickly Summers returned to Jessalee's side and whispered as softly as she could.
"We have to get out of here now."
"What's going on?"
"There is something out there in the hallway. We have to get Inspector James out of here," she said as she popped the clip from her pistol to check it. "Oh Jesus, it's empty."
Confused, Jessalee wasn't sure what to think. She wasn't even awake yet.
"What do you mean there's something out there?"
"Keep your voice down or it will hear you," insisted Summers as she pushed a wheelchair next to the bed.
"What are you doing?"
"Get Inspector James, I don't know how much time we have."
Jessalee was becoming frustrated. She knew something was seriously wrong for a federal agent to behave in such a manner. But she didn't understand what could be.
"Ashton wait. Let me call the nurses station they can help us."
"You can't, there's no one there. They're dead. We're all alone."
"No that's not possible someone has to be there. Tom isn't the only patient on this ward," said Jessalee as she reached for the call button. Summers jerked the call button from Jessalee's hand.
"The other rooms are empty. There is no one else up here."
Jessalee grabbed the call button back from Summers and pressed the white button hard with her thumb. The buzzer blared at the nurse's station. Both women looked at one another as they listened for any signs of anyone responding. The buzzer echoed again as suddenly a loud howling scream came from the station. The scream grew louder as they heard things being smashed and turned over along with running footsteps.
"Oh my God! What the fuck?" screamed Jessalee as she and Summers quickly shoved James's door closed. Both women leaned hard against it. The fast moving footsteps rushed toward them and a sudden burst of pounding fists began slamming on the window of the door. The howling screams raged as whatever it was desperately attempted to push the door open. The noises continued as if being issued from someone who could not speak. The door slammed inches into the backs of both women as they both put all the weight of their bodies against it.
"Um gunah git yew! Yew ucken oors!"
The guttural screams from the other side of the door sent a shockwave of fear into Ashton Summers she hadn't felt since she was a little girl. Jessalee reached into her pocket and tried to retrieve her cellular phone. She quickly flipped it open only to read the tiny bold letters, "NO SERVICE."
Summers looked around trying to find anything that could help them. Down at the other end of the room she could see the fire alarm.
"The fire alarm!" she exclaimed as the door pushed and pounded into their backs.
"I've got to break the glass and pull it!"
"No, Ashton I can't hold the door!" said Jessalee as she looked up at James on the bed. His face was looking at her with confusion in his eyes.
"Tom! Tom can you hear me?" called Jessalee. James nodded his head slowly but did not speak. The pushing on the door suddenly stopped. Summers and Jessalee looked at one another.
"We need to get Tom down here on the floor. He has to take my place against the door so I can pull the fire alarm," said Summers.
"He's too weak, we can't risk moving him."
Suddenly there was silence. No one was pounding on the door. There was no pushing. No screaming. Just silence.
"Something's wrong, Ashton."
"I know, but this might be our only chance," said Summers as she looked at the fire alarm and then back to James. "Inspector, can you crawl down here on the floor with us?"
James looked at Summers and then to Jessalee. His head was still in a deep fog. He nodded and started to move when both women saw his eyes change.
"What is it Tom? What's wrong?" asked Jessalee.
A smashing crash hit the glass of the window, causing both women to scream. Diamond shaped shards of glass sprayed everywhere. Summers looked up as saw the edge of an axe buried deep into the plate glass with cross sections of chicken wire framing broken free.
"Hurry Tom!" shouted Jessalee as she reached for him.
James tried to move but his legs were numb from the drugs that were still coursing through his system. Edging himself to the bed's end the floor seemed to be far away. The screaming began again as the axe smashed against the window a second time. James looked up into the face behind the glass. Their eyes made contact.
"Um gunna git yew!"
The face was contorted and twisted with a nose that was half missing. He began to fear he was having another nightmare. Was this all another bad dream? wondered James. The face on the other side of the glass pulled the axe out and then held up a straight razor. It then carved off the rest of its nose. Blood began spurting through the broken glass, dripping down onto both Agent Summers and Jessalee.
Nightmare or not James wasn't waiting to find out he rolled off the bed and landed hard onto the floor. Jessalee and Summers pulled him up against the door with them.
"Hurry, do it!" shouted Jessalee to Summers. Summers leapt up and ran to the fire alarm. Holding her breath she pulled the red handle down and broke the small glass cylinder. There was no sound. Summers looked back at James and Jessalee who were just as bewildered as she was.
"What happened? I don't hear anything!" said Jessalee. When a bright flashing light began to pulse in the room and hallway.
"Oh Jesus it's a silent alarm because we're in a hospital," said Summers.
"Nuhhhh! Nuhhhh!" screamed the thing in the hallway. Whatever it was it seemed to know the alarm had been activated.
"Uckin oors!" it screamed and howled as it began slamming the axe into the door and window again in a series of wild random blows. Summers ran back to the door and, for a moment, the face on the other side of the door looked at her and smiled. Rotted teeth and yellow eyes greeted her. It then slowly backed away from the door and tore open its shirt showing her its ripped and slashed chest. Dropping down to the floor next to James and Jessalee, Ashton Summers realized that for the first time in her career as a federal agent she was terrified. She squeezed her eyes shut, but it was too late the image was already burned into her mind. Standing on the other side of the door was a man holding a blood soaked straight razor, fresh from having carved into his chest, HELTER SKELTER.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Helter Skelter
"HEY! What the hell is going on here!" shouted a strong male voice. Jessalee, James, and Summers looked to one another.
"Come back here!" the voice shouted.
Then they could hear the clicking of heels as their attacker ran from the thud of heavy boots in pursuit. A sound of keys jangling from a hip belt reverberated through the hall back to the three. Jessalee and James knew that noise well. It was the sound of an officer running.
"Put it down! Put it down now!" commanded the strong voice.
"DO IT!" shouted another male voice.
Jessalee instantly recognized the voices. It was the two officers she and Summers had relieved
from standing watch over Inspector James.
"Get against the wall," one of them said forcefully.
"Nuuuu nuuuuuu," it cried as they twisted his arms behind him and hand cuffed him.
"Rivera, you here?"
Quickly Jessalee and Summers moved from the door and helped James stand to his feet.
"Yes, we're in here," Jessalee called to the officers. Looking over they could see them behind the axe torn door.
"Jesus, you guys okay?"
"Yes."
"Hold still!" said the officer as he jerked the man around and held him into place. The other officer came over to Inspector James's room.
"Is Tom okay?" he asked.
"Yeah I think so, but we need to get him out of here as soon as possible."
"I'm calling for backup right now, I think the safest place for him is back at the station," said the officer.
Summers helped James back to the bed. Then Jessalee got her first real look at the man who had been trying to kill them. His face was covered in blood and his nose was missing, as she looked down she now realized what the clicking noises were. He had on red high heeled pumps. He grinned at Jessalee and stared deeply at her as if he was taking a mental picture of her.
"Eeee's mine, hu uh uh uh," it laughed.
"Shut the fuck up!" growled the cop as he jerked the man's arm to hold him still. The other officer came over to the door of the room and started to push it open, but it appeared to be jammed. "We need some lights on in here," he stated when he clicked on his flashlight. As he did his face became pale. Written in blood on the door were the words,
" Death To Pigs."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Death To Pigs
"So this is the guy who's put this city on its head for the last 24 hours?" asked Captain Debra Shelton as she stood between Inspector James and Agent Summers. The three of them looked through the two- way glass into Interrogation Room 1. Handcuffed to a steel chair was their attacker from the hospital. His face had been bandaged. It covered the space where his nose once was. A guard stood inside the stale colorless room watching him closely as the department's psych doctor tried to talk to him.