“But all close to the central point—New York City,” Miro put in.
“I believe my esteemed partner and I are in agreement on this,” Fuller said. “This could all be the work of one man. And,” he said, pointing at Sarah’s computer screen, “this is old. Dates back almost ten years. This could have been Perry Knowlton’s first kill after the massacre in Cemetery Mansion.”
Sarah felt a sense of panic welling in her; she wasn’t afraid for herself—well, she was, of course—but she was terrified for Davey.
She looked at Kieran. “Can you make sure that my aunt and Davey are safe?”
“Absolutely,” Kieran promised. “And I’ll tell Craig that my good doctors have weighed in. We need to follow up on your theory. I’m not sure how, but we need to move in that direction.”
* * *
EVERYONE WAS SAFE, and Sarah was extremely grateful.
“We had a cop at the house, or just outside the house, and of course I brought out coffee,” Aunt Renee told Sarah. “I have to admit, I’ve been trying not to panic. This is...this isn’t coincidence. This is terrible. If Hannah was a target, and then...seems they killed the wrong Suzie, but she was a target, and if I was to lose you and Davey, oh, my God, I’d just want to be dead myself. I can’t believe this. It isn’t fair. Of course, I do know,” she added drily, “that life isn’t fair, but still, you all survived such terror...”
Sarah gave her a big hug. Then Suzie and Sean hugged Renee, and then Davey, as their FBI guards stood back silently, letting the reunion go on.
A young woman with the leanest body Sarah had ever seen—she wondered if she even had 1 percent body fat!—came forward then. “Pizza is on its way,” she said cheerfully. “We don’t have any delivery here. An agent always acquires food. The Bureau has control of the entire building, with sham businesses and residences—used as office space, we’re careful with taxpayer dollars!—but we want you to be relaxed enough to...well, to exist as normally as possible under the circumstances. I’m Special Agent Lawrence.”
She indicated a tall man nearer the door. “That’s Special Agent Parton. We’re your inside crew for the moment and we work twelve-hour shifts. Our apartments are in this building—we’re always on call. Tonight, however, you’ll have fresh agents—nice and wide-awake, that is. The doorman and the registrar downstairs are agents, and there are two agents in the hall at all times. If you will all get together and draw up a grocery list, we’ll see to getting what you need. The kitchen is there—” she pointed to the left of the front door “—and the central bath is there.” She pointed to the right. “One of us will always be at that table by the door, while the other might be with you. In the very unlikely event that every agent between the entry and you is brought down, there is a dumbwaiter in the back that is really an elevator. Naturally, our engineers have worked with it—nothing manual, no pulleys or cranks. You hit a button, the door closes and it takes you down. It can’t be opened on the ground level from the outside—it can only be opened from the inside once you’re down there. Same button, huge and red. You can’t miss it.”
“This is wonderful. Thank you!” Sarah said softly.
“Catching the bad guys is our job—along with keeping the good guys alive!” Special Agent Lawrence said. “Let me show you to your rooms,” she added.
The living room or parlor boasted a dual area—a TV and chair grouping to the right and a little conclave of chairs to the left. They were led down a hallway.
The bedrooms were sparse, offering just beds and dressers and small closets.
“The best place I’ve ever seen!” Aunt Renee said.
“This one? Can I have this one?” Davey asked, looking into one of the rooms.
They were really all the same. There had to be something slightly different for Davey to want it.
There were no windows. No way for a sniper to have a chance; no way for an outsider to see who was inside.
“Davey, whatever room you want!” Suzie said.
Davey grinned.
“What’s special about it?” Sarah asked him.
“The closet is painted blue. ‘Haint’ blue, like they told us when my dad took me on a ghost tour in Key West. Haint blue keeps bad things away.”
“Excellent,” Sarah told him.
“I’ll go next to Davey,” Aunt Renee said.
“And we’ll be across the hall,” Sean agreed. “And Sarah—”
“I won’t be staying. I’m going with Tyler.”
Renee protested, “Oh, Sarah! The two of you should both be here—”
“Try telling a military man he needs extra protection!” Sarah said lightly. “I swear, we’ll be fine.”
“You’re staying with Tyler?” Sean asked her. “Have you been seeing each other again? Last I heard, he was out of the military and living in Boston.”
“He came because of Hannah. We’ll see this through,” she said.
She heard Tyler’s voice; he had arrived at the safe house. It had, she realized, gotten late. She knew he and Craig had been going to the autopsy and then to interview the building owner and whatever friends—or even acquaintances—they could find of Suzie Cornwall’s, to try to trace her steps before she was taken by her killer.
“Excuse me,” Sarah murmured and hurried out. He and Craig had arrived together.
She gazed at him anxiously. She didn’t ask any questions; they were all in her eyes.
Tyler nodded, looking over her head, and she realized that Special Agent Lawrence, Renee, Davey, Suzie and Sean had all followed her out.
“Suzie,” he said softly, “this can’t make it better, I know, but the Suzie who was killed was already dying a horrible death.”
“What?” she asked.
“Cancer—it had riddled her body.”
“Anything else?” Sarah asked.
“We went to her building and to the hospital. No one could tell us anything. She was likable, she kept to herself. She was polite and courteous, and I’m sure we would have all liked her very much. But even her doctor said that the experimental drugs weren’t having the desired effect. She was going to die a slow and horrible death.”
“Poor woman, to suffer all that, and then...”
“Dr. Layton, the medical examiner, said she died quickly,” Tyler said.
They were all silent. It was impossible not to wonder which would be worse—a slow and horrible death as her body decayed around her, or the horror of having her throat slit, her head sawed from her body.
“It’s my fault,” Suzie whispered.
“No. It’s the fault of a sick and wretched killer, and don’t think anything else,” Tyler said firmly. Again there was silence. Not even the agents in the room seemed to breathe.
“So,” Tyler said. “We think that Perry Knowlton might still be alive. We’re going to try to relive that night—together, all of us except for Hannah, of course. Try to remember what we saw in that haunted house—and if any of us might have seen Perry Knowlton.”
“Might have seen him?” Sean said, confusion in his voice. “We didn’t know what he looked like. Not then. I mean, later, there were pictures of him in the papers and on TV and all, but...I sure as hell didn’t see him in Cemetery Mansion.”
“Let’s go through it. We came through at different times. Let’s see what we all remember.”
“It will actually be good for you all—from everything I understand from my police shrink friends, including the shrinks Kieran works with,” Craig said. “And where is she, by the way?”
“She’s with your partner, Mike, at Finnegan’s,” Special Agent Lawrence said.
“She’s not a target, and Mike would die before anyone touched a hair on her head,” Craig said. “Shall we?” He indicated the sitting area.
Sean and Suzie, holding hands, chose the little settee. Renee sat on one of the
wingback chairs, and Tyler and Craig sat across from them. One chair was left, though there was room on the settee. “Sarah, sit,” Davey said. “Sit, please.”
She smiled and sat. Davey settled by her side on the floor, curling his legs beneath him.
“Davey,” Tyler said, “let’s start with you. You knew there was something bad going on. And I’m sorry. I know you’ve been through this before.”
“I saw him. The bad man. Archibald Lemming,” Davey said. “But I didn’t know his name. My dad warned me about men like him.”
“But your dad wasn’t with you, whispering in your ear or anything?” Craig asked.
Davey gave him a weary look. “My dad is dead.”
“Of course,” Craig said, “and I’m so sorry.”
“He said he would always be with me in all the good things he taught me,” Davey said. “So I watch for bad people. He was bad. I saw him go in Cemetery Mansion.”
“And that’s why you didn’t want to go in,” Tyler said. He smiled at Davey. “And you warned us, but we were foolish, and we didn’t listen.”
“I was okay once I had my Martian Gamma Sword!” Davey said, perking up. He leaned back and looked up at Sarah. “And it was good, right?”
“It was excellent. You were a hero.”
“Which is why the bad guy wants to kill me now,” Davey said pragmatically.
Sarah set her hand on his shoulder.
Tyler told him, “Don’t worry. We will never let that happen. So, Davey and Sarah stayed out, while Suzie, Sean, Hannah and I went in. There were people ahead of us, but the theme park was letting only a few go in at a time, so while there were people ahead and people behind, we were still more or less on our own.”
“There were motion-activated animatronic characters everywhere,” Suzie said. “I remember that.”
“I remember when we were going in, the ‘hostess’ character stationed there—a French maid, I think—was acting strangely.” Tyler went on. “I don’t think she knew anything then, but I’m sure she felt as if something was odd. Maybe she was bright enough to have a premonition of some kind—maybe someone was late or early or had gone in or hadn’t gone in. She seemed strange. Which, of course, would have been normal, since it was a haunted house.”
“I remember that, too,” Sean said. “As a high school senior I couldn’t admit it, but...yeah, I was scared. But you know, we were part of the football team back then. We couldn’t be cowards.”
Suzie was nodding. “Honestly? I think—even though we were assholes about Davey not wanting to go in—I think we were a little unnerved from the get-go. Then there was the massive character in the music room. Very tall, and blond. That automaton, or whatever. Scared the hell out of me.”
“What?” Sarah asked. “An automaton?”
“You couldn’t have missed it,” Suzie said. “Seriously, it was tall. Over six feet. It was creepy. Really freaked me out.”
Sarah frowned. “You know, we talked to the cops, we talked to each other...and still, sometimes, it’s like I remember new things. Maybe even my nightmares, I’m not sure. Honestly, I know we were almost running from the start, but when Davey and I came through, there was no character. There were no figures in the music room. Who could have moved an automaton in that kind of time? Especially a big one?”
Tyler leaned forward. “I remember it clearly—I remember how it scared Suzie horribly. It was definitely there.”
“And when Davey and I came through, there was definitely not a character there,” Sarah said.
“He was sitting at the piano,” Suzie insisted.
“Not when we came through,” Sarah said.
“Maybe it...”
“What? Just disappeared?” Sean asked her.
“But—I was so sure it was an automaton! It—it talked to me!” Suzie said. “Oh, my God! He saw me that night. He saw my face clearly. And yet...he killed another woman.” Suzie stared at Tyler and Craig hopefully. “Was it possibly accidental? Was she old, was she...different...was she...not like me?”
“I’m sorry, Suzie. She wasn’t your twin, but...”
“But he saw me over a decade ago. People change,” Suzie said harshly. She sighed. “Okay, fine, so much for that theory. He meant to kill me. To behead me. To saw my head off!”
She started to sob. Sean pulled her close.
“Don’t cry, Suzie,” Davey said. “He wants to kill all of us. And he’s a terrible person. None of it is your fault.”
“Poor Hannah...but could it be? Could it really be?” Suzie whispered.
“Him,” Davey said somberly.
They all looked at him. He had propped his elbows on his knees, folded his hands and rested his chin upon his knuckles. He looked like an all-seeing wise man.
“Him, the other killer, the bad guy,” Davey said. He shook his head. “Yes, I think he was the other bad guy. If you saw him. He was gone when Sarah and I came through. He was gone, because he knew. The one guy—Archibald Lemming. He was meant to die. But his friend, the one everyone thought was dead—he meant to live. He was there that night, but he got away. It would have been easy. Everyone was screaming and running. Yes. It is him, right? He killed Hannah. And he’s still out there, right? He’s the one who is trying to kill all of us.”
There was silence.
Then Tyler told Davey, “But you knew, Davey. You saved us then. And you know now, and so you’re going to help us all save ourselves now.” He smiled. “Because your dad taught you to be smart. He taught you to know people, which is something we who don’t have Down syndrome don’t always do.”
Davey smiled back at him.
“Mom is good, too. Dad taught her to be a little bit Down syndrome.”
Renee smiled and nodded. “Yep. I’m a little bit Down syndrome, thanks to your dad. He was a very good man.”
Davey straightened proudly.
Tyler turned and looked at Craig. “I think that must be it—the character who was there, and then wasn’t. Archibald Lemming didn’t kill Perry Knowlton. I think maybe Lemming had a death wish—but he wanted to go out with a bang. Lemming had some kind of insider info about escaping through the infirmary. They killed personnel to escape, but even then they had to have timing information and all. So, say that Knowlton was the brains behind the escape. And then they found Haunted Hysteria. What a heaven on earth for someone who wanted blood and terror!”
“And all these years,” Suzie said, “he’s been just watching? Waiting? Is that possible?”
Sarah said softly, “We think he has been busy. Yes, he’s been in New York City. This is theory, of course. But we’ve done some research. We think he’s still been murdering people. He just takes little jaunts out of the city to kill.”
“Oh, my God!” Suzie said.
“But now,” Tyler said, “he’s killing here. Right in the city.”
“Revenge,” Sarah said.
“But...he lived!” Suzie protested.
“Yes, but he might have idolized Lemming. And while he’s a killer, and he’s been killing, this is different. He’s been imitating Lemming, but not making a huge display out of his crimes. But now...who knows? Maybe he was careful, but then saw Hannah on the street or something. Maybe he was just biding his time. But the thing is, now...”
“Now?” Suzie breathed.
Sarah looked at Tyler. “And now we have to have our justice—before he gets his revenge!”
Chapter Six
The safe house wasn’t far from Finnegan’s, making it simple to leave and head to Broadway and the pub. Kieran had gone there to help out, which she often did when she was anxious and waiting for Craig.
But by the time Sarah and Tyler reached Finnegan’s, it had grown quiet and Kieran was back in the office. Declan, Kevin and Danny, Sarah had learned, had become accustomed to having their office turned into a
conference room for Craig and Kieran when something other than inventory and payroll needed to be attended to.
An undercover agent, someone who worked with Craig, was sitting at the bar, watching the crowd while sipping a Kaliber, Guinness’s entry on the nonalcoholic side of beer.
He greeted them with a friendly nod when they arrived. Declan, behind the bar, cheerfully sent them to the office. Kieran was at the desk.
“Everyone is good—safe?” Kieran asked as they entered and took up chairs in front of the desk.
“Safe and sound,” Sarah said. “I’m just so glad Davey is there now. I have a feeling that Perry Knowlton must know Davey was the key to ending everything that night.”
“Maybe not,” Tyler said. “He didn’t try for Davey first.”
“No, he went for Hannah, who, sad to say, was an easy target. She wouldn’t have recognized him, but maybe he recognized her. And she would have been an easy first mark because...because she would see men. She was working as a hooker,” Sarah said sadly.
“And that makes sense—go for the easiest victim first,” Kieran said, nodding.
“And we think we have a lead, though where it can take us, I don’t know,” Tyler said.
Craig went on to explain what they’d discussed.
“And no one really saw him, right? What he really looked like?” asked Kieran.
“I never saw him at all, and neither did Davey. We think he was pretending to be an automaton in the music room. From what they said, he scared Suzie half to death when they went through. But there was no such person—or automaton—by the time Davey and I arrived. He could have run out already—or he could have gone through any one of half a dozen emergency exits.”
“But his picture was in the papers, on the web and TV screens, right?” Kieran asked.
“Yes, of course,” Tyler said. “I did see him. He was very distinctive. Tall, at least my height. And lean. With a long face with sharp cheekbones and jaw.”
“Well, at least not a medium height—someone who blends in with the crowd. But there are a lot of men over six feet in New York City,” Craig said.
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