The Midnight Tour

by Richard Laymon

  “A little nervous, I guess.”

  “Nobody’s been killed here in years,” Tuck assured her. Then, grinning, she added, “Nobody that we know about, anyhow.”

  They stepped across the porch. As Tuck unlocked the front door, Dana noticed the brass knocker. A monkey’s paw. It must’ve been there yesterday, but she didn’t remember seeing it.

  “You’ll do fine,” Tuck told her.

  “I hope so. The house is kind of creepy.”

  “It’s supposed to be.”

  “I guess I’ll get used to it.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Tuck said, and swung the door open. As they walked in, she said, “If you’d rather start with an outside job...”

  “pstairs monitor will be fine. The sooner I get used to working inside, the better.”

  Tuck shut the front door, then leaned back against it. She slipped her hands casually into the front pockets of her shorts, crossed her ankles, and said, “It’s a pretty simple job, as work goes. Your main function will just be to wander around upstairs and keep an eye on things. There’ll be a fairly steady stream of tourists all day. You need to make sure everyone behaves, nobody touches the exhibits. Common sense stuff. It’s mostly a security and public relations job.”

  “What if there is trouble?”

  “It’s usually nothing more than kids acting up. Just tell them politely but firmly to behave themselves—same as you’d do if they were screwing around when you were on duty at the pool. But you’ll have a walkie-talkie on your belt if anything serious happens. The rest of us’ll drop everything and come running.”

  “What sort of serious stuff might I expect?”

  “Shootouts.”

  “What?”

  Tuck laughed. “Naw. But any time you’ve got large numbers of people, things’ll go wrong. A fight might break out. It’s rare, but it happens. More often, we’ll have somebody get indignant or outraged about the exhibits. I guess they didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. They might need to be calmed down or escorted out. Also, we’ve had people sort of flip out once in a while.”

  “Oh, great.”

  “We call them flippers.”

  “Cute.”

  “I guess they’re having what you might call panic attacks. It’s an old place and smells a little musty. The hallways are sort of long and narrow. The exhibits are gory. The people are listening to some creepy, nasty stuff on their earphones. It apparently just overwhelms some of them, especially on a busy day when there might be some conjestion in the rooms and hallways. You’ll have flippers, fainters and barfers every so often.”

  “It’s sounding more fun all the time.”

  “Not as much fun as the heart attacks.”

  “You get heart attacks?”

  “I don’t, they do. Not often, though.”

  “God almighty.”

  “Where’s the sweat, lifeguard?”

  “I never thought I’d have to be giving CPR in a tourist attraction.”

  “Think of Beast House as a big, dry swimming pool. Mostly, people just have fun. But we do have our emergencies from time to time. The trick is, get to the problem people before they go over the edge. They’re easy to spot. Pale, sweaty faces, glassy eyes. Or instead of pale, they might be really flushed. Heavy breathing—that could mean trouble, too. When you spot somebody like that, lead him outside. They’re usually fine as soon as they get into the fresh air. But don’t be afraid to use the walkie-talkie. I’ll be on the other end. If the problem is more than we can handle, I’ll call for an ambulance or the cops or whatever we might need. They usually get here fast.”

  Dana nodded.

  “When there aren’t problems,” Tuck went on, “things can be a little dull for the floor monitors. The visitors will be getting the tour information through their headsets, so you don’t have any sort of spiel. You’ll just need to field questions.”

  “Like ‘where’s the bathroom?’”

  “That’s the most frequently asked question. You remember where they are?”

  “Out behind the house in the snack shop area. Can’t miss them.”

  “Excellent!”

  “You ain’t dealing with a chimp.”

  “Perhaps a moose...”

  “Hey hey hey. Good thing I’m not sensitive about my size.”

  “Hell, you love your size.”

  “Allows me to intimidate shrimps like you.”

  “Can’t touch me, I’m the boss. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll be fine answering questions. Big, smart college girl like you.”

  “That’s me.”

  “You read both the books...”

  “Studied them.”

  “So you shouldn’t have any trouble answering questions about the beast, and so forth. They will ask questions. If you don’t know the answer to something, tell the person to see me. I’m the resident expert. If I don’t know it, it ain’t known.” She grinned.

  “And you’re modest.”

  “I’m all things wonderful. Any questions?”

  “About your wonderfulness, or...?”

  “Oh, the job.”

  “I guess I’ll have plenty as things come up, but...”

  “Hey, I’d better warn you about something before I forget. As guides, our official position on the beast’s weenie is that we can’t discuss it.”

  “People ask about it?”

  “All the time.”

  “Oh, great.”

  “Some are genuinely curious and figure we’ve got the inside scoop. But some of them just want to watch us squirm. A lot of guys think it’s a real hoot.”

  “But I’m not supposed to confirm or deny?”

  “Right. Suggest they either sign up for the Midnight Tour, or read the books.”

  “And push the Midnight Tour?” Dana asked, grinning.

  “Yes! Please! My God! At every opportunity!”

  “Is it any good?”

  “Is it any good? It’s great! I’m great! And I tell all! Besides which, people haven’t experienced Beast House until they’ve been here at midnight.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  “Oh, you’ll love it.”

  “Sure I will.”

  Tuck laughed, then asked, “Ready to go?”

  “Go where?”

  “This way.” She uncrossed her ankles, pushed off from the door with her rump, and headed across the foyer toward the parlor. “I always do a quick walk-through first thing in the morning before we open her up...make sure everything’s the way it ought to be. We don’t want to have any surprises.”

  Dana followed her into the parlor.

  “Top of the morning to you, Ethel,” Tuck greeted the body on the floor. “I hope you enjoyed a comfortable...uh-oh. What the hell?”

  “Oh, man,” Dana muttered.

  “See what I mean?” Tuck said, not sounding very upset. “Surprises.”

  Halfway across the parlor, behind a plush red cordon, the wax figure of Ethel Hughes lay sprawled on the floor. One bare leg was propped up on the cushion of the couch. Her eyes were wide open, her face contorted as if with agony or terror. Her white nightgown, drenched and splattered with bright red blood, was ripped open to reveal her bloody, torn skin.

  Not just her arms and belly and thighs.

  Her breasts.

  Her groin.

  Yesterday, those areas had been hidden beneath the tatters of Ethel’s bloody gown.

  “What happened?” Dana asked.

  “I don’t know,” Tuck said, her voice hushed. She glanced over her shoulder and out the doorway.

  Dana looked, too. She saw only the empty foyer.

  When Tuck walked toward the body, Dana stayed close to her side. They stopped at the red cordon a few feet away from the exhibit.

  “Somebody must’ve wanted to check out her anatomy,” Tuck said.

  “She sure looks real.”

  Frowning, nodding, Tuck muttered, “Maggie was a stickler for details. She started out with nothing b
ut store dummies. But they weren’t good enough. She ordered the realistic wax bodies as soon as she could afford it. They were supposed to be authentic in every detail.”

  “Looks like they are.”

  “You know why she wanted them anatomically correct?”

  “No, why?”

  “Cause she was nuts.” With a laugh, Tuck stepped over the rope. “Actually, I think she wanted to make her exhibits match the crime scene photos.” Crouching beside the body, she lifted a torn flap of white fabric and draped it between Ethel’s legs. “That would’ve meant showing everything, so she ordered the wax figures with all their private parts in place. But then she must’ve changed her mind and decided to cover them up.” She carefully placed another strip of white linen over Ethel’s groin. “They sure wrecked the nightgown,” she said.

  “Could’ve fooled me.”

  “It’s about twice as ripped up as it’s supposed to be.”

  She started to rearrange the shreds to cover the dummy’s breasts.

  “Doesn’t look like they damaged Ethel, though. She seems all right. We’ll have to see about replacing the gown, though.”

  “Is it the original?” Dana asked.

  “No. A replica. Thank goodness for that. Janice moved all the original clothes over to her museum a long time ago. I thought it was a mistake, you know? And I told her so. I thought they should stay in their real death gamments. Guess she was right and I was wrong.”

  Tuck stood up, took a couple of steps backward, and peered down at the body. “How does it look to you?” she asked.

  “Lewd and indecent.”

  “It’s supposed to look lewd and indecent. But we wanta have the basics covered. You can’t see them, can you?”

  “The basics?

  “Nipples and vagina.”

  “Ah. All right.” Dana sidestepped back and forth behind the cordon, even crouched a couple of times. “I think you’ve got them pretty well covered.”

  “Okay, geat.” Tuck stepped over the cordon and headed for the door.

  Dana hurried after her. “How do you think it happened? You lock the place up at night...”

  “Might’ve been a break-in. I’ll have to check the windows and stuff. Or maybe somebody came in with a tour and didn’t leave. You want to wait outside while I take a look around?”

  “Why?”

  “Might be somebody in here.”

  Dana had already realized that. Hearing Tuck say the words, though, gave her a cold feeling. “I’m supposed to go outside and let you handle him?” she asked.

  Tuck shrugged and smiled.

  “Not a chance,” Dana said.

  The smile grew to a grin. “You’re a pal. True blue, gutsy, and large.”

  Dana laughed.

  “Let’s do it,” Tuck said.

  Together, they made their way quickly through the ground level of the house. As they searched each room, Tuck talked with barely a pause. “Every once in a while, somebody gets the bright idea to spend the night. Which can be a real kick. I don’t exactly blame them, but it’s against the rules and we do a pretty good job of stopping them. The thing is, everyone gets a tape player and a set of headphones before they come in. Then they turn them in at the front gate when they leave. We count the players at the end of each day. If we don’t get them all back, we figure somebody’s unaccounted for and we go looking. Then we usually find the culprits trying to hide somewhere.”

  Stopping in the kitchen, Tuck tried the knob of a shut door.

  “Nobody got in this way,” she said. She took out her keys, unlocked the door, and swung it open.

  Dana, close beside her, gazed down the stairway into the darkness of the cellar.

  “Anybody down there?” Tuck called.

  “Very amusing.”

  “I know.” Leaving the door open, she resumed the search.

  “It’s really not all that difficult to pull an ovemighter in here. You just have to be smart enough. You need someone else to turn in the player for you, or else you turn it in yourself and then find a way to sneak back into the house. It’s not that tough if you use your head.”

  “Is it usually teenagers?”

  “Almost always. I’ve caught a lot of them trying, and they’ve all been teens. Sometimes, it’s one guy doing it on a dare. But I’ve found three or four trying it together. And quite a few boy-girl couples. There are plenty of places to hide, if you’re clever.”

  “And I bet you know them all,” Dana said as they returned to the foyer.

  “Most of them,” Tuck said.

  They started up the stairs.

  “No matter how careful we are, though, people still manage to slip through. We’ve had plenty of evidence of overnight visits. Since I’ve been here, we’ve found cigarette butts, graffiti, candy wrappers, condoms, tampons...”

  “Oh, nice.”

  At the top of the stairs, Tuck resumed her search but didn’t stop talking.

  “Assorted undergarments, mostly bras and panties. A pair of eyeglasses, a single shoe, keys and loose change that must’ve fallen out of somebody’s pockets. And assorted examples of human fluids and excretions.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Some people are pigs.”

  “I’ll say. But it sounds like they’re getting in here all the time.”

  “It really doesn’t happen terribly often. But when it does... You know what they do sometimes? They hide out till after dark, then open a door and let in some of their friends. That way, you might get five or six people running around in here at night.”

  After checking a couple of rooms, Tuck stopped at the closed door to the attic. She tried to twist its knob. “Nobody got in here,” she said, then took out a key, unlocked the door and opened it. Inside, a cordon was stretched across the bottom of the stairs.

  Dana glanced up the narrow stairwell. Darkness seemed to be seeping down into it from the attic at the top. She looked away quickly.

  Tuck headed on down the corridor to resume the search. “Oddly enough, they almost never wreck any of the exhibits when they’re in here fooling around at night. We’ve hardly had any serious vandalism. I haven’t quite figured out why. Maybe they’re afraid it might be tempting fate—or the beast.”

  “Have you had anything like this with Ethel’s gown?”

  “Not exactly. But I did come in one morning and find her wearing a pair of men’s underwear.”

  “Boxers or briefs?”

  “White briefs. I thought it was pretty funny, actually. You could tell it was a prank. I don’t like this, though. This looks like a guy wanting to check her out, maybe feel her up. You know? Makes me think he might be a little perverted. And hard up. If he’s that hot for a dummy, just think what he might do to a couple of real-life gals like us.”

  “He’d have to catch us first,” Dana said.

  “You hold him, I’ll run for help.”

  “Thanks. But do you think he’s still around?”

  “It’s possible. You never know. So far, I haven’t bumped into anyone when I’m opening the place up. Most of them probably don’t stick around till morning. If they do stay, they probably keep themselves hidden until the place is full of tourists—then they just blend in and leave.”

  After checking the final room, Tuck and Dana returned to the corridor and headed for the stairs.

  “Whoever did this,” Tuck said, “it looks like he only bothered Ethel. Could’ve been a lot worse.”

  They started down the stairs.

  “Do you think somebody on the staff might’ve done it?” Dana asked. “As a prank, or something?”

  “Pretty heavy for a prank, ruining the gown like that. That sort of thing would get you fired. And maybe prosecuted. I’d probably bring charges against him for destruction of the property.”

  “Him?”

  “Had to be a guy, don’t you think?”

  Dana shook her head. “Not necessarily. Might’ve been a gal wanting it to look like the work of a gu
y. There’re all kinds of possibilities.”

  “I suppose,” Tuck said.

  As they walked from the foot of the stairs to the front door, she added, “I still think it was probably a guy. No sign of a break-in, so I’d guess that he took the tour yesterday and liked the looks of Ethel.” She opened the door. Dana followed her onto the porch. “He made sure to get his cassette player back to us, then he hid somewhere in the house until we’d locked up and gone home. After that, he had all the time in the world to fool around with her.”

  Though they walked into sunlight as they descended the porch stairs, Dana didn’t notice its brightness or feel its heat. Her mind was inside the Beast House parlor, gazing through the darkness at a figure hunched over the body of Ethel Hughes. In the dim moonlight from the window, she watched him rip at the mannequin’s gown with both hands. He panted for air. He moaned as his hands latched on to her bare breasts. Then he was kissing them, licking them, then kissing his way down her body until his mouth found the crevice between her legs.

  Tuck must’ve been thinking about him, too. “If he got off,” she said, “at least he didn’t leave a mess on the floor.”

  Dana felt heat rush to her face. “Considerate of him.”

  “Maybe he used a condom.”

  “He couldn’t have actually penetrated her.”

  “Nah. Not very far, anyway.” Stopping, Tuck turned around and stared back at the house.

  “What?” Dana asked.

  “I wonder if I should go back in and check her mouth.”

  “Good idea. I’ll wait here.”

  Shaking her head, Tuck glanced at her wristwatch. “No time. We’re already a couple of minutes late for the meeting. Come on.”

  She led the way across the lawn, then up a walkway alongside the house. When they stepped past the rear corner, Dana saw three people waiting in front of the snack shop. Clyde and two young women—Rhonda and Sharon. They all wore the tan uniform with the red and white Beast House logo on the back of the shirt. Clyde wore long pants; the other two wore shorts. Clyde, standing, had a white stryofoam cup in one hand and a cigarette in the other. The girls were seated at one of the small white tables. Rhonda, a husky brunette, drank from a cup while Sharon worked on a cigarette. Sharon, slim and deeply tanned, had a long tail of braided blond hair hanging down her back.