13th Avenue

by Cyrus Winters

  “Source?”

  “Wishes to remain anonymous.”

  “But you know who they are?”

  “That’s correct. Long story short, there’s a company called Pitfall Productions that signed a lease with the theatre sometime within the past year. They haven’t put on any plays yet as far as I’m aware, but they’ve started holding auditions for an upcoming show. There have been complaints from those who went to audition.”

  The light turned green and they resumed their walk.

  “What kind of complaints?”

  “The people running the place are extremely weird. They ask inappropriate questions and make strange requests. A couple of the girls were apparently injured during their auditions, and the company paid to keep them quiet. Still, these things have a way of turning up on my desk.”

  “Huh,” Stasia said. “Sounds a bit strange. I’m not sure if it warrants a criminal investigation though.”

  “Exactly. When you’re knee-deep in unsolved murders and abductions, a situation like this can often be overlooked. I just have this feeling though. We might be onto something here.”

  The path ended, and they turned right up a new road.

  They followed the side of it uphill.

  “Are we almost there?” Stasia asked.

  “Yep, it’s on the left. I’ll point it out when we can see it.”

  “And we’re scoping it out together? Is that right?”

  “Actually,” Graves said quietly. “I got you an audition.”

  Stasia stopped. Turned to him.

  Put her notepad away.

  “An audition?”

  “Yeah,” Graves smiled. “It’s at four o’clock.”

  She leaned back. “Oh, you just assumed I’d say yes.”

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought I’d bring you into my thing. No secrets, and all.”

  Stasia’s neck dipped. “Well, when you put it like that –”

  “I can come in with you if you want,” Graves said putting his hand on her shoulder. “I know you need to feel safe –”

  “Aw, get lost with that, buddy,” Stasia snapped, shaking his hand off. “You’ll only get our cover blown.”

  “Well, we could always pretend we’re husband and wife or something.”

  Stasia scoffed, walking on ahead of him. “As if anyone’d believe that.”

  CHAPTER 3

  The Theatre House was a large, aging structure with dark wood panels and a sloping, rocky drive. It stood four stories high with two car parks – one down the drive and another underground. There were many windows, but they were all draped with thick blue curtains, shutting out light from the outside world.

  Stasia felt her fingers clench as they approached.

  “The main entrance is down the drive and around the back,” Graves said standing behind her. “You’re supposed to take the ramp at the side, which leads all the way up to the top. Do you see it?”

  Stasia adjusted her gaze. She saw it.

  “I’ll come in and check on you in fifteen minutes if you’re not out by then,” Graves suggested. “You can text me on your status if you wish. You should be okay, I think. Try and get a sense of what’s going on in there.”

  Stasia glanced back at him. “I’ve got it, alright. I’ll be in and out. No problems.”

  Graves nodded. “Just be careful.”

  Stasia chuckled as she turned away, descending the drive at a rapid pace. She soon reached the base of the ramp a quarter of the way down, and began making her way up the path. As she turned facing the road, she saw Graves peering around as if expecting someone’s arrival. She didn’t have a complete picture of what he expected to find here – at least to the extent of what would satisfy him. She wondered if he had any inkling about her own thoughts and observations, but quickly dismissed the idea.

  Detective Graves was operating on his own agenda, and Stasia was just along for the ride.

  She supposed she should be thankful.

  Finally, she reached the top. Stasia walked across the paved tiles to the secluded entrance. The door was clear, see-through with a metal frame. A curtain hanging over it obscured the view of what lay beyond.

  Stasia grasped the handle and pushed down, only to find it locked. She took a step back and checked her phone.

  3:58pm.

  Two minutes to go.

  She walked back out across the ramp, now with an even better view of the road.

  Graves’ arms were folded, his back to the theatre house. Tense. Stiff.

  Nervous.

  3:59pm.

  Stasia brushed her fringe to the side. Breathed in deeply. Her mind sorted through the objects on her person. Wallet with ID in left pants pocket. Cell phone on vibrate in back pocket. Pad and pen in her right jacket pouch.

  Pistol concealed beneath the left of her jacket.

  Smaller pistol strapped to her right leg.

  Just another day on the job.

  4:00pm.

  She turned back to the door and heard a mechanical buzz, unlocking the door. Stasia blinked a few times and opened the door slowly.

  A wide, rectangular room waited for her on the other side.

  There were several dozen chairs packed away at the back of the room. Two big double-doors on her left.

  A table sitting in the centre.

  Stasia walked towards it. There was a piece of paper sitting in the middle.

  STASIA.

  YOUR AUDITION COMMENCES IN THE NEXT ROOM.

  There was an arrow pointing left underneath.

  Stasia chuckled to herself.

  She walked over and pushed one of the double-doors open, revealing a wide-open area without much light. Stasia saw a stage at the end before the door shut abruptly behind her.

  “Hello?” Stasia called out, her voice echoing. “Is someone there?”

  Overhead lights lit up the stage.

  “Good afternoon, Stasia,” a gravelly voice boomed through surround-sound speakers. “Please make your way up to the stage to begin your audition.”

  Stasia let loose an awkward laugh.

  The lines in her face started to wince.

  “I can’t see you. Can you –”

  “You will see once you get on the stage.”

  Stasia looked around in all directions, but there was no one to be seen. She hesitantly walked along the main floor towards the bottom of the stage.

  A night-time atmosphere was played over the audio, along with a static bass line.

  And wind chimes.

  Stasia moved by to the wooden steps at the side and climbed up them.

  She walked across the stage.

  “Stop,” the voice commanded.

  Stasia stopped.

  “Face the audience.”

  Stasia turned to the empty theatre.

  The stage lights died, and a neon-blue spotlight hovered along the open floor.

  Until it reached her.

  “Welcome to Pitfall Productions. We are currently searching for talented actors and actresses over a wide variety of ages, nationalities and appearance. To be a true actor or actress you must be able to tell a convincing lie. That is the nature of your craft.”

  Stasia put her hands over her eyes, blocking the light. She could see now there was a window at the opposite wall where the light was shining out of.

  There was a dark figure sitting stationed beside it.

  “Please state your full name, age and current profession for the audience.”

  Stasia cleared her throat. “Uh… This isn’t really what I was expecting we’d –”

  “Do you wish to continue your audition?”

  “Yes, but I really –”

  “Please state your full name, age and current profession for the audience.”

  Stasia twisted her shoes. “Stasia Annabelle Rhine. Twenty-seven years old. I’m … currently a waitress.”

  Click-click.

  A trapdoor opened underneath Stasia’s feet, and
she dropped through the floor instantly.

  CHAPTER 4

  The room below Stasia was wall to wall black. She had a soft landing, her fall broken by a pile of pillows. She pushed herself up on one hand, the other sifting through her pockets. She still had everything.

  The base-line and wind chimes punched through on the audio once more. Another blue spotlight shone across her as she tried to get up, pushing the pillows out of the way.

  Once on her feet she saw she was on another stage.

  This room was a mirror-copy of the one above it.

  “Hey!” she shouted, blocking the light. “What the hell was that?”

  “Are you ready to resume your audition?”

  Stasia climbed off the side of the stage. She could see a dark figure sitting up in the window near the light. “I need to see who you are first.”

  “Negative. Return to the stage immediately.”

  Stasia ignored the speaker, hurrying across the theatre towards the window.

  The spotlight followed her.

  Click-click.

  The floor below her feet dropped out and Stasia once again plunged to the next room. This time there was a mattress waiting directly underneath the trapdoor to catch her.

  Stasia bounced off it, her feet hitting the ground, her whole body shaken with adrenalin.

  The spotlight returned revealing a third identical room, the stage again covered in pillows.

  Mattresses positioned carefully across the main floor.

  Stasia looked up to the window and saw the outline of a man sitting in the window.

  Same as before.

  She reached for her gun.

  “I wouldn’t, Detective,” the voice rasped all around her. “Your next fall won’t be so painless.”

  Stasia looked down at the ground, the blue light shimmering.

  She was standing in the middle of another door.

  “You know who I am?” Stasia said after a moment. “You’ll be in a lot of trouble for this.”

  “For what? This is how the audition process works. You convince us that you are telling the truth and you make it through to the next question. Are you ready to continue?”

  “What if I – wait –”

  Stasia swallowed.

  She was not looking forward to falling again.

  “What is your profession?”

  Stasia’s posture shifted. Her eyes fluttered. “I’m a homicide detective.”

  “How did you find out about this place?”

  “It – it wasn’t me who –” Stasia shook her head.

  Honesty.

  Or deception.

  “My partner put me onto it.”

  “Detective Graves?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how did he find out about it?”

  “Someone told him. I don’t know who.”

  A pause. Stasia’s teeth scratched together.

  “Does he know who I am yet?”

  “I – I really don’t know.”

  “Does he know what’s happening tonight?”

  Stasia gestured with her hands. “I’ve no idea. He didn’t tell me much.”

  A steady silence.

  “Well done. I think I believe you.”

  “May I ask you some questions?”

  “Absolutely not. You and Detective Graves are to drop this investigation at once. I will be keeping watch over the both of you and I will know.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t –”

  “Tell Detective Graves I know what happened on 13th Avenue. And it is in both your best interests to leave this matter alone.”

  “13th Avenue?”

  The music drowned out.

  The spotlight died.

  “Thank you, Stasia. I hope for your sake, we never meet again.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Graves was up on the ramp where Stasia had entered the theatre when she came out running up the drive. “Nicholas!” she was shouting. “Nicholas, where are you?”

  Graves moved away from the door and went to the edge of the railing. “I’m up here. Door won’t open.”

  “Come down here, please!”

  “Right.”

  Graves hurried briskly across the ramp and back down the steps to meet her.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  Stasia’s demeanor indicated stress. “Did you see him? Were you watching the road?”

  “What? No, I thought I might try to –”

  Stasia hurried past him up the drive. “He was just here. He still should be. If he didn’t manage to…”

  She looked down the left end of the road.

  Then back the way to the café.

  “He didn’t come up the drive?”

  “I didn’t hear anything,” Graves answered, catching up. “He might have gone up the other side though. Or out the back to the street behind us.”

  “Or he’s still in the building. I tried finding him, but he was gone. As far as I can tell.”

  “Stasia, just slow down for a moment. Take a deep breath. Alright. Just. Calm yourself.”

  She glared at him angrily, before accepting his advice.

  “Did something happen in there?” Graves asked. “Did he hurt you? Did he try and –?”

  “Sort of,” Stasia muttered. “I – He’s up to no good and that’s all that matters.”

  “Well, what do you mean no good?”

  Stasia shook her head. “Let’s go down and check the car park underneath.”

  “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  Back down the drive.

  “I don’t know what’s going on here,” Stasia said, trying to explain herself. “It’s really weird. Like fundamentally messed up.”

  “That’s why we’re here.”

  “Like, I didn’t get a look at the guy. I don’t know if he’s white, black, asian. I don’t know how tall he is or what age he is.”

  “Did you see him at all?”

  “Just a silhouette. But he spoke to me. We had a conversation.”

  “And?”

  “And he knows we’re on to him. I don’t know what he’s up to but it’s something big, I think. He – God he –”

  Graves stopped her.

  The mouth of the underground car park was just around the corner.

  “Just say it, Stasia.”

  She nodded. “He knew who I was. He knew I was a detective.”

  “He called you Stasia?”

  “Well, yeah. Did you give a fake name or?”

  “No, that’s right, I did put you down as Stasia. But made up the last name.”

  “Well, he knows me. And he knows you too.”

  “Me?”

  “He wanted me to pass on a message.”

  Stasia pulled herself away from the wall and began descending the slope.

  There were no artificial lights down here. Just shadow and streaks of sun.

  “What’s the message?” Graves asked.

  “Something about 13th Avenue. He seemed sure you would know what that meant.”

  Graves stopped walking.

  His eyes on Stasia’s back.

  His arms hanging at their sides.

  “And then – I haven’t even told you the worst part yet.”

  “What’s the worst part?” Graves asked.

  “He has these trapdoors inside. On the stage. Off the stage. He made me fall through two of them. There were pillows and mattresses and stuff, but it was scary. I felt like…”

  She stopped turned around.

  “There’s no cars here,” she muttered. “Let’s go back out.”

  Graves stood his ground.

  His eyes squinted. Mind calculating.

  “What?” Stasia said as she went by him. “You don’t believe me?”

  “No. It’s about what I expected.”

  “Yeah.”

  They walked out.

  Stasia went to the right, towards the main entrance.

  “What are you doing?” Graves asked.

 
“He might be still inside somewhere. I didn’t check every room.”

  Graves shuddered. His hands tingled.

  “Just – wait – just –”

  Stasia was halfway through the door when he caught up with her.

  “I – I think I did hear a car leave, actually,” Graves said quickly.

  “What? Why didn’t you say that before?”

  “I was – I’m just putting it all together now –”

  “And?”

  Graves took a breath and grabbed Stasia by the arm. He led her away from the building till they were both back in the sun.

  “What’s gotten your goat?” Stasia blurted out. “Is it that stuff about 13th Avenue –?”

  Graves winced. “You … You can’t tell anybody you heard that.”

  “What?”

  He put his hand to his forehead.

  “Nicholas?”

  “I’m not saying anything happened,” Graves exhaled. “I’m not saying I was even there.”

  “What the fuck, man?”

  “You need to – I need a favor from you. I’ll tell you everything, but not here. Just. Don’t mention this to anyone. I mean, don’t even say we came here today. It never happened.”

  “He could be still inside. You don’t care about that?”

  “He’s not untraceable. I’ll find out who he is. What he’s up to. I think I gotta do it on my own though.”

  “No way. Fuck off, Graves. Not after that shit.”

  He nodded. “Alright. Fair enough. I’ll tell you the whole story later then.”

  “When later? In the car?”

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Having dinner with my sister and niece,” Stasia said. “And then I have this thing with Fae –”

  “What time will you be finished?”

  “I don’t know. Seriously. She has this ‘surprise’ for me. So, who knows.”

  “Alright. When you’re done. If it’s before midnight, then give me a call. And I’ll meet you for a drink and then tell you the whole story.”

  “Are you sure we can’t get it now?” Stasia said, checking her phone. “I’m not expected at Wendy’s till six. So, we have a good hour and a half –”

  “No,” Graves said turning away from her.

  “Why not?”

  “I need time to think about this.”