by Philip Kerr
“ ‘Hearing this, my son let out such a wail that, against my better judgment, I insisted that the shop owner sell me the bear. But still he refused.
“ ‘It is not a toy, he said firmly. The man who sold it to me told me in no uncertain terms that this teddy bear was under no circumstances ever to be given to a child. That it could never be treated as a toy. And that it would be a dreadful crime if this bear was ever allowed in a nursery. And he made me take a solemn oath that I never would allow that to happen.
“ ‘At this my son began to wail even louder, and it was at this point I think I told the shop owner who I was and offered a higher price than he was asking. Three hundred thousand dollars. A strange look now came into the shop owner’s eye. “You wouldn’t be the Mr. Dearborn Dublin who owns the lease on all these properties in Central Chicago?” he said. “The famously fabulously wealthy Mr. Dearborn Dublin who’s planning to tear down all these properties and build a skyscraper.” “Yes, I think that must be right,” I admitted. At which point he seemed to change his mind about selling me that bear, which, in retrospect, I now know was suspicious in itself.
“ ‘But I thought no more of it, and left the shop with a three-hundred-thousand-dollar teddy bear and a very happy son. We took the bear home and I left my son in his nursery playing happily with his new teddy.
“ ‘Weeks passed. I forgot how much I’d paid for the bear. I suppose I even forgot the thing existed. Then one day my sister and her family came to stay with us. Her own two small children played in the nursery with Kildare and his toys. They brought a hamster with them. I think it may have been called Lucky. But when the time came for my sister to leave, we couldn’t find it and presumed it must have escaped from its cage. We looked everywhere but with no result and my niece and nephew had to leave without poor Lucky, which upset them greatly, of course.
“ ‘While I’d been looking for the hamster I came across the teddy bear, and perhaps my imagination was playing tricks on me, but it seemed to me that it was slightly larger than I remembered. Fatter somehow. And with a slightly different expression on its face from the one I remembered. It looked sort of smug. Like it was pleased with itself in some horrible way.
“ ‘Weeks passed. And we forgot the missing hamster. We went to visit my brother and his family to see their new puppy. Kildare took the bear with him and left it on the sofa beside the puppy while we ate some lunch. When we returned the puppy had disappeared. And once again the teddy bear looked fat and horribly pleased with itself. The poor puppy was never seen again. And I told myself that I was imagining things. That teddy bears, even ones that cost three hundred thousand dollars, can’t eat pets. I told myself I’d been working too hard, that I was imagining things, and decided to see a doctor. The doctor told me it was only to be expected that I should feel under strain following the death of my wife, and he gave me some pills.
“ ‘Several more weeks passed. And for a while everything seemed normal. As normal as things can be after someone’s wife has died. One morning I came into my daughter Liffey’s room and found the teddy bear in her cot. I assumed my son had put it there for entirely innocent reasons. All the same, a chill came over me, and you can call it fanciful but I took the bear out of her cot and put it back in my son’s room.
“ ‘A little later on, Kildare went off to school, so imagine my surprise when around lunchtime I came across the teddy bear lying on the floor of the hallway that connects my son’s room with my daughter’s. How had the bear gotten there? I called my butler to question the servants but not one of them was prepared to admit having taken the bear from my son’s room. They must have thought I was mad.
“ ‘I had to fly to New York on business the next day, but before I Ieft, I took the seemingly absurd precaution of locking the teddy bear in my study.’
“Mr. Dublin let out a big sigh and wiped a tear from his eye,” said Miss McBatty. “ ‘Go on,’ I said. ‘What happened next?’
“ ‘I am not sure,’ he said. ‘That night I received an urgent telephone call to tell me that my infant daughter had gone missing. And, fearing the worst, I flew back home immediately. The police were there and told me they thought Liffey had been kidnapped. Ignoring them, I went straight to my daughter’s cot and breathed a sigh of relief to find that the bear was not there. Nor was it in my son’s room. It was in my study and everything seemed just as I had left it except for one thing. And of this there could be no doubt: the teddy bear’s stomach was larger. Much larger. And when I squeezed the thing it seemed to me that I could feel something hard inside its stomach. Not only that, but on the teddy bear’s face there was a look of dreadful gluttony, as if the bear had eaten a very large meal. And, in short, I supposed that the thing had indeed eaten my baby daughter, who, like the hamster and the puppy before her, has never been seen to this day. But I could hardly bring my suspicions to the police. Not without them thinking me a lunatic. Or, worse, that I had done away with my daughter myself. So I kept silent. But not before placing the teddy bear in the safe, which is where it remains even now.’
“ ‘So what would you like me to do?’ I asked Mr. Dublin.
“ ‘To be honest with you, Miss McBatty? I was hoping that you might examine the thing so that I might know for sure if I’m mad or not. That you might use your electronic ghost-hunting equipment to keep a watch on the bear and see if I’m right. To see if it’s alive.’
“I asked to see the teddy bear and found that it was indeed kept inside Mr. Dublin’s safe as he had said. Looking at the thing, it was hard to accept what Mr. Dublin had told me beyond the fact that it was an old and rather ugly Steiff bear. The face was much as he had described and reminded me of an old man who had stuffed himself at the dinner table. All the same, I pressed its stomach and found it quite soft to the touch. It was difficult to imagine, as Mr. Dublin believed, that this teddy bear had eaten a hamster, a puppy and a human baby girl.
“I was allowed the use of a room to set up my cameras and monitors and, having placed the bear in their middle, I went to work. Hours went by and I soon thought I must be mad. As mad as Mr. Dublin, I concluded.
“Day turned to night. And I grew tired. Yawning, I took my eye off the thing. And then, just for a second, I imagined that I had seen the bear move—as if, in the blink of an eye, it had glanced at me before looking away once again.
“Horrified, I went to the recording equipment and played the tape back in slow motion. And I saw that I had not been mistaken. The teddy bear had moved, if only for the tiniest fraction of a second.
“Nervously I picked the bear up and looked at it more closely. Still it seemed normal to me. And yet the more I looked at it the more I was sure its expression had changed, but so subtly it was hardly noticeable. The mouth was different, wider, thicker. It was as if there were more of the stitches that made the mouth than before. And fetching a penknife from my bag, I started to unpick them, one at a time. None of the stitches were tight, as stitches ought to have been, but loose, hardly stitched at all, in fact. And it wasn’t long before my efforts with the penknife revealed a tiny mouth full of very sharp-looking teeth.
“This discovery shocked me, I don’t mind telling you. A teddy bear with teeth was not at all what I had been expecting. Whoever expects a teddy bear to have any teeth? Let alone a mouth like a tiny shark. At this stage I ought to have left well enough alone. Called the police, or perhaps the zoo. I don’t know. But scientific fascination overtook me, I suppose, and, putting aside my penknife, I pulled the threads of stitching aside with my fingers’ ends.”
Miss McBatty stopped speaking for a moment. For several moments.
“What happened?” gasped Billy. “What happened next?”
Her face looked grave, as if the memory of what had happened was all too painful. Which it was.
Silently she held up one of her hands. And it was clear to Billy that Miss McBatty was missing the tip of a forefinger.
As if something had bitten
it off.
Billy felt his jaw drop like a dead man’s hand. He let out a gasp.
“Yikes,” he said. “Did it—the teddy bear—did it—?”
“Yes, Billy,” said Miss McBatty. “It bit off the end of my finger. By the time I had picked myself off the floor and bandaged my finger with a handkerchief, the teddy bear had run out into the street and was never seen again.
“I am not permitted to say very much more by the Chicago police, as the case is still open and under investigation. What I can say is that the investigation revealed that Mr. Dublin’s baby daughter, Liffey, was not the first family pet or little sister that had been eaten by that teddy bear.”
“Wow, that is such a creepy story,” exclaimed Billy. “I don’t know, but that might just be the creepiest story I’ve ever heard. I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight thinking about it. And if I do manage to sleep, I bet I have the worst nightmare anyone has ever had.” He shook his head. “The kind of nightmare where you think you’re falling from a great height. Or the kind of nightmare where you’re dead. I have that one a lot.”
“Everyone has nightmares like that, Billy,” said Miss McBatty.
“But that story is so creepy. Gives me goose bumps just thinking about it.”
“Creepy, yes,” said Miss McBatty. “But unfortunately for me, it wasn’t supernatural. After all, it was only a teddy bear, not a ghost.”
Billy shrugged. “So what’s the problem?”
“Bil-ly,” said Miss McBatty. “I’m a ghost hunter. I’m supposed to hunt ghosts and find them and stuff. A teddy bear just doesn’t qualify, on account of the fact that it wasn’t a ghost, but something very much alive.” Miss McBatty sighed and looked sad for a moment. “Can I tell you a secret, Billy?”
“Of course you can,” said Billy, leaning forward on Edgar Allan Poe’s armchair.
“It’s this.” Miss McBatty sighed again. “Back in Kansas City I may have given you the impression that I might have actually seen a ghost. But the honest truth is, I haven’t. Not ever. Not once. Those bath faucets turning on in that Kansas City hotel were about the nearest I’ve ever come to a genuine ghostly experience.”
“I see,” said Billy, trying to hide his disappointment.
Only he didn’t do it very well, because Miss McBatty said, “You’re quite right to be disappointed, Billy. I wouldn’t blame you if you thought I was a total fake.”
“I don’t think that at all,” insisted Billy. “In fact, I think you’re kind of wonderful.”
But Miss McBatty wasn’t really listening. She was too busy listening to the sound of the disappointment in her own self that she was failing to hear what Billy had to say.
“I mean, I’ve got all this expensive equipment for detecting ghosts, but the fact is that I never have actually detected a ghost. Let alone seen one. What kind of ghost hunter does that make me?”
“An unlucky one?” Billy suggested. And when Miss McBatty didn’t look convinced, he added, “You’ve only just started, Mercedes. May I call you Mercedes?”
Mercedes McBatty nodded. “I wish you would, Billy. I can’t ever get used to the idea of people calling me Miss. It makes me sound like a sort of target.”
Billy nodded. “What I mean is this: you’re just fifteen years old, Mercedes. You ask me, you’ve got plenty of time to see a ghost before you can start calling yourself a fake and a failure. I think you’re brave and wonderful. I know I wouldn’t have had the courage to pick up a teddy bear I suspected of having eaten someone’s baby. And certainly I couldn’t ever have put my finger near its mouth.”
“Thank you, Billy,” said Mercedes. “I think you’re one of the kindest people I ever met. And I think it’s really great, the way Mr. Rapscallion trusts you to look after the shop when he’s not around. He must think a lot of you.”
Billy shook his head. “I’m just an ordinary kid who likes books, that’s all.”
“Believe me, Billy, that makes you someone worth trusting.”
Billy shrugged modestly. And then he smiled. A compliment from Mercedes McBatty felt like something important.
“Tell me about your accident, Billy.”
Billy shrugged again. “Not much to tell. We were all of us in the car, my parents and me, when it happened. A truck on Hitchcock High Street came from nowhere and hit us from behind. I really don’t remember very much about it at all. Anyway, the next thing I knew, I was in the hospital. For months, I guess.”
“Is that when you got interested in books?”
“Oh no,” said Billy. “I was a keen reader long before that. As far back as I can remember, I’ve always loved books. Our family never had money for much, but there were always plenty of books around. And when I’d finished reading those, I went to the library. The great thing about books? It’s the way they take you out of yourself. The way they make all your troubles seem so small. I couldn’t live without books. It beats me how anyone can live without reading books.”
A few days later, Mr. Rapscallion took Billy outside the Haunted House of Books to ask his opinion of the sign he had posted on the shop window. The sign said:
TO ALL THE KIDS IN HITCHCOCK
Scare yourself silly and win a thousand bucks.
Just five enormously brave kids will have the chance to hear a unique in-store midnight reading of the scariest story ever written in the whole history of the world.
But only the kid who isn’t scared totally witless by hearing it will win the grand prize of a thousand dollars in cash. (Yes, we do mean American dollars, and yes, we do mean green stuff in your hand.)
In other words, absolutely no chickens need apply. We mean it, folks. If you’re frightened of the dark, or your own shadow, or you think that maybe there’s a bogeyman underneath your bed, then you’d probably better think again.
Take it from us, this story isn’t for the faint of heart. Seriously. The last time it was read aloud, in 1820, there were actual casualties.
So if any of you kids think you’ve got the guts, then come in today, buy a book and enter your name and address for the draw. You could be one of the lucky five who are chosen to hear the story, one of whom will end up a thousand dollars better off.
ALL TERMS AND CONDITIONS APPLY:
1. The five “lucky” kids will be chosen by means of a daily draw. There will be five daily draws in total. Each day the name of one lucky child will be drawn. The organizer reserves the right to increase or decrease the number of “lucky” children and to increase or decrease the number of daily draws. The in-store event will take place at midnight on the night of the day following the final draw.
2. To enter the draw, you must buy a book in this bookstore, write your name and address on your proof of purchase and place it in the shoebox provided by the cash register. (Just so you dummies know, a book is a collection of sheets of paper containing continuous printing, or writing. Luckily for you, you don’t have to prove that you’ve actually read the book that you buy.)
3. The contest is open to all children between the ages of 10 and 15, but on the night of the reading a parent will be required in person to give written permission to the effect that their child is allowed to hear the scariest story ever written.
4. All participating children will have to provide evidence of age and a medical certificate that they are physically and mentally healthy. (Physically healthy, anyway. Let’s face it, some of the loons in this town probably couldn’t even tie their own shoelaces without help.)
5. Parents will also be obliged to sign a waiver absolving the Haunted House of Books and its proprietor from any legal responsibility should the child suffer nervous, emotional or physical damage as a result of hearing the scariest story ever written read in the store. (That just means you agree not to sue.)
6. Parents will NOT be allowed to accompany the child to the actual reading of the scariest story ever written, because any kid can feel brave when Mom or Dad is there to hold your hand. Come on!
7. The decision of
the judges as to the winner of the thousand-dollar cash prize is final. But frankly, it’ll be obvious to the organizers who’s scared and who isn’t. (So don’t even think of arguing about it. Parents will be obliged to sign yet another form agreeing to the terms and conditions of the contest. If you don’t like that, then you’d better not even show up.)
8. Anyone who leaves the store during the reading will be deemed to have left because they are scared and will forfeit the contest. Anyone who screams during the reading will be deemed to have screamed because they are scared and will forfeit the contest. Anyone who faints or whose hair turns white during the reading, or who loses their mind, or who dies of heart failure, will be deemed to be scared and will forfeit the contest. Anyone who falls asleep will be disqualified. (Is that clear enough?)
9. In the event of a tie, then the remaining contestants will be asked to spend ten minutes proving that they’re really not scared by entering the Haunted Cellar. No entry to the Haunted Cellar is permitted prior to the reading. That would be cheating.
10. No recording equipment is permitted. Anyone caught recording the story will be ejected from the reading. Questions are not permitted during the reading. Translators will not be permitted. If you can’t understand English, then tough luck, because the story was written in English. Anyone who fools around will be deemed to be fooling around because they are scared and will forfeit the contest. Cellular telephones are strictly prohibited at the in-store event.
11. The contest is not open to the employees of the Haunted House of Books or their relations. Just in case any of you get the idea that it’s fixed. “Employee” means someone who gets paid to work here, okay?