I was wretched.
Gary got himself another burger and fries, this time with a milkshake. He asked me if I wanted anything. No, I shook my head dumbly.
Then he picked out a table in the corner and we sat down. It was all I could do to stop my whole body from trembling but Gary was just calmly eating his dinner as if nothing had happened.
He propped the paper open on his leg and concentrated hard on the pages as he devoured bite after bite of the soft, doughy bun, occasionally, absent-mindedly letting his hands wander onto the tray in front of him to grasp a fistful of fries.
‘Looks like my Crazy Eddie stocks are still low,’ he mumbled, shaking his head. ‘Damn, I sure got caught on that one. I’m down $16,000.’
The whole scene was surreal, unbelievable. If somebody had told me six months before I’d be dumping a body in New Jersey before stopping at a McDonald’s, I’d never have believed it. Now it was happening and I still couldn’t believe it.
My nerves were shot. I ached with the effort of trying to appear normal. I had one elbow resting on the table, supporting my head with my knuckles. My other hand was clamped between my crossed legs. I was wound as tight as a drum and yet I knew if I didn’t pull this off, this act of seeming relaxed, I could be dead tomorrow.
Gary’s reactions were so abnormal, so out of my realm of experience, it took me a while for the penny to drop. Suddenly, I saw things very clearly – he’d been acting as if this was all normal for months!
In order to succeed to this point, he’d had to go about his business in the world like nothing was wrong, all while he had us all chained up in his basement.
‘I can fool anyone,’ was his boast to me and Sandra. ‘They think they know what crazy looks like so I show them the crazy they want to see. That’s the point – people can only see what you show them. If you don’t let on, how are they to know what’s really going on?’
So now he acted like a regular guy because he knew what a regular guy looked like. He showed the world what it wanted to see – he kept the real crazy hidden.
I’ve got to do the same, I realized it now. I’ve got to show him what he wants to see, nothing more.
The sounds and the stirrings of the people around us faded into the background. It was just me and Gary.
I looked at him, slurping his milkshake and scanning the paper.
Have you done this before? I wondered. You sure as hell knew what to do with a body. You killed two girls damn near back to back and you didn’t blink an eye.
Surely, the first time you kill someone there’s a reaction, whoever you are.
Are there more Deborahs out there? More Sandras?
I looked him over again, his whole body slouched back into the cheap plastic seat. This act, this nonchalance, might fool the rest of the world but it didn’t fool me. I knew what lay behind it.
Things aren’t going quite according to plan, are they Gary? I spoke to him in my mind. It’s not working. It’s time to quit.
I felt my strength returning. I wasn’t going to let this freak beat me.
If he wanted a partner in crime, I’d give him one. I’d show him exactly what he wanted to see. And then, well, we’d see…
Chapter Seventeen
The Outside
‘Hey, let’s get you some clothes today,’ Gary said the next morning as he made coffee. He’d poured me a large bowl of Cheerios that I was mechanically shoveling into my mouth. I hardly tasted food any more. It was just fuel to get me from one day to the next.
Usually I loved shopping – there was nothing I enjoyed more than spending hours among the rails of clothes at the mall, wandering leisurely from one store to the next, picking up this, trying on that, seeing what new fashion suited me.
But the thought of shopping with Gary did not fill me with excitement. I wasn’t going to let him know that, however.
‘Yeah – this is definitely not my favorite outfit,’ I scoffed, indicating the baggy jumper and jeans, the legs pooling around my feet. ‘I could do with some underwear for a start!’
I wasn’t Gary’s slave anymore, I was his partner – that’s what he thought – so I talked to him like a partner.
There was no fawning gratitude, no slavish devotion. The whole reason I was up here to begin with was because he thought I was part of his sick enterprise so I wasn’t going to act like his offering to get me clothes was some great gesture of generosity.
‘Okay,’ he agreed. ‘Just give me a few minutes and we’ll go to the store.’
I picked up a cup of coffee and walked back into the living room to finish my breakfast. He took a couple of sandwiches down to the girls and was back up in a few minutes.
In some strange way I could see he was enjoying this. This was what he wanted all along, someone he could share his life with, and now he had it. He had me. Even if there was some small doubt in his mind about the way things were going, he wasn’t going to let it bother him. He wanted us to be together.
We got in the car and drove to a thrift store round the corner where the signs above the racks boasted pathetically low prices. And the clothes matched the signs.
Gary might have been driving around in a Rolls and a Cadillac but he sure as hell didn’t spend any more money then was strictly necessary. All the food on his kitchen counter was supermarket own brands – the cheap stuff. Apart from the fringed brown leather jacket, his clothes were cheap and nasty. And here we were browsing the rejected rails of other people’s wardrobes.
We walked in together and I stopped for a minute to get my bearings – I was focused completely on the task, not looking around, not thinking about escape.
I still didn’t know how it was going to happen, I was working everything out minute to minute, but I knew now was not the time. He had to trust me completely, he had to believe that I wasn’t going to betray him, that’s what my instincts told me, and we weren’t there yet. Not yet.
So I found the aisle with the knickers first and grabbed a couple of pairs in my size. Then I located the jeans and pulled out a couple of pairs of size 6s. Gary was at my side the whole time and I was careful to act like he was my boyfriend accompanying me on an ordinary shopping trip. Not too fast, not too slow. Casual, like we’d done this all before.
I slung the jeans in his direction and he held them dutifully, following me to the next rail, where I picked out a couple of T-shirts and put those in his arms too.
Finally, I found a brown jacket and a blue polo-necked jumper.
‘That’ll do,’ I told him.
He nodded and we headed over to the counter.
I didn’t bother getting any bras – I was small enough not to have to worry about those and frankly I was exhausted now with the concentration and the energy. I just wanted to get out of there.
He couldn’t tell but I was on tenterhooks the whole time. I knew that just one look in the wrong direction, one misplaced word and I could be back down in that basement again. I turned my back to the cashier at the till as she rang up the items, leaning, arms crossed against the counter as if I couldn’t care less.
In truth, I just didn’t want her to talk to me or look at me. It could be dangerous.
He paid with a $20 bill and we left with our purchases in two plastic carrier bags. I’d never endured such a miserable shopping trip in my life.
When we got back I disappeared upstairs to put on the new clothes. Everything fit fine and it was a relief to be out of the strange baggy pants and oversized man’s shirt.
Now I went into the bathroom and looked in the small circular face mirror over the sink – I’d already tried to tame my hair by pulling it back into a tight ponytail and tying it with an elastic band I’d found in the living room.
Now I splashed water over my face and smoothed down my hair.
I stood there for a moment, saying my name in my head: Josefina Rivera.
Josefina Rivera. You will survive this, Josefina. You are strong. You are a fighter. You adapt.
Then I let out a long
sigh, pushed back my shoulders and marched downstairs.
Gary looked up from the sofa in the living room where he was watching TV.
‘That’s better,’ he said, admiringly. ‘You’re sure shaping up a lot better now.’
‘I should think so,’ I retorted. ‘At least I can see my waist again!’
I was flexing my powers now, adding a little tartness to my voice, a slight disdain. Let him feel lucky to have me here at all, I thought. I don’t want this guy even considering chaining me up again.
* * *
Later I was making coffee in the kitchen. Every time I went in there now I averted my eyes from the cooker where the pot still stood with Sandra’s head in it.
I concentrated on what I was doing, I didn’t open the freezer. I didn’t look in the fridge. I didn’t want to see those grisly sights again.
Gary came in.
‘I need to take the Rolls to the shop,’ he said. ‘You can follow me in the Caddy so we got a way of getting back afterwards.’
‘Sure,’ I said.
There was a pause.
Then: ‘You a good driver?’
I almost choked on my coffee.
He was concerned about his precious car! Sure, kill two women but look after your wheels! This guy had it all back to front.
‘I’m an excellent driver,’ I told him confidently. It was one more step in the right direction. He trusted me enough to hand me the keys to the car, he must have believed that I wasn’t just going to drive it straight to the first cop shop I came across. And he was right. Where would that have got me? If he knew I wasn’t following him he could get back to the house, kill the girls and go on the run. And then what would I be left with? A lifetime of looking over my shoulder, wondering when he was going to pop up next, knowing that my life was only as long as the distance between us.
We went into the garage and he handed me the keys to the Cadillac. I slid into the driver’s side and the first thing I had to do was adjust the seat. He was a lot taller than me and the way he had it, I couldn’t even reach the pedals.
He got into the Rolls and pulled slowly out of the drive. I put the car into gear and let the powerful engine inch me steadily forward. It was a beautiful car. The engine hummed smoothly beneath me. I tried not to let myself think of all the other times I’d driven. All those other occasions when I’d been free to go where I wanted, whenever I liked. Now I was in the driving seat but I wasn’t in control. Gary pulled out onto the street and I rolled out behind him, careful to keep a small distance between us.
I saw him checking his rear-view mirror, his eyes flicking upwards to check I was still there. Don’t worry, Gary. I was thinking. I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.
We turned a few corners, and a few heads, as we rode through the slum area of Philadelphia, a Rolls-Royce followed by a Cadillac, both in immaculate condition. They were not everyday sights around here, I was sure of that.
But I was holding my nerve, not daring to make eye contact with the streetwalkers and moms pushing prams on the sidewalk.
In a few minutes we turned into the car shop. Gary rolled his window down with his arm resting on the side of the car.
He shouted out to the mechanic tinkering under the bonnet of a Chevy, ‘Hey, Mike!’
Mike appeared from behind the hood wearing a pair of grubby blue overalls and wiping a wrench with a blackened cloth.
‘Hey, Gary!’ Mike seemed like a normal person who knew Gary in the real world, the world which Gary checked in and out of like a hotel guest. Mike could clearly see me behind Gary in his Cadillac. I guess he recognized Gary’s cars.
‘The Rolls is hers too!’ Gary shouted genially, thumbing back at me.
‘Lucky girl!’ Mike shot back. Yeah, I was thinking – lucky, lucky me.
Gary now exited the Rolls-Royce and went over to speak to Mike. They had a conversation, too far away for me to overhear. I took the time to get out of the driver’s seat and move into the passenger seat. Gary may have thought I was his partner now but I knew he wasn’t ready for me to be in the driver’s seat. And I wasn’t going to push my luck.
A short while later Gary got back in the car and pulled out of the car shop. I wondered whether the Rolls needed work at all or whether Gary was setting up an alibi.
He wanted other people to see me with him, he wanted them to believe I was his girlfriend, that I was there of my own free will. If ever the cops came round his way, my presence would deflect any potential suspicion away from him.
All these girls have gone missing but it couldn’t be him, right? He had a girlfriend. Me.
* * *
Gary went to bed early and got up late.
I was constantly aware of the women still chained up below our feet but Gary carried on as if they weren’t there. Whenever he went down to give them food or have sex, I stayed upstairs. What were they thinking, I wondered?
What did they think I was doing up here?
Every day now I was getting stronger, more confident. Gary didn’t try and have sex with me at night. He still thought I was pregnant. And I did too. In the whole time I’d been here I’d not had a period. I tried not to let myself think of the baby growing inside me. It wasn’t something I wanted. I knew it would never live. There was no way I could keep a baby born out of this hideous situation.
I spent the majority of my time in the living room and kitchen, taking showers every morning to try and rid my body of the stink of Gary’s musty bed sheets.
Then, six days after I was freed of the chains, I heard it. I heard my opening.
That day he told me: ‘I want to get another girl.’
Chapter Eighteen
Poker
There is a point in every poker game when you have to decide whether to bluff. You may be losing big time, or it may be that you expected to get a big hand on a promising start but you don’t – the cards just aren’t on your side. But you need a win and if you don’t have the cards, and it looks like nobody else does either, then you have a choice: fold or bluff.
I was always a good poker player. As a teenager I’d learned the basic rules of the game but the skill, the art of playing poker, came naturally. You can’t teach someone how to bluff or when to judge the right time to go all-in.
It’s more than just a game, it’s a lesson in observation. Can you tell what the others in the game have got by the way they are betting? Do their facial expressions, or small tics, give anything away? It’s not just about having the cards, you have to be an expert in reading people.
And you have to be an expert in fooling them too.
I used to play a lot of poker with my friends and I rarely lost big money. I had a good sense of when to bet big and how to bluff my way to a snagging a large pot.
At the point where you can see the other players thinking about it, at the very moment when they are deciding whether to fold or bluff, then you go all-in.
That is the moment, the moment you know you could lose it all. But the moment at which you have to raise the stakes. Sky high. You make it too dangerous for your competitors to play on.
You make them think there’s no way this girl has got anything less than a brilliant hand. But there is only one way they’re going to find that out, and that is to make them pay to see you.
And that looks far too expensive. So they fold.
* * *
Until this moment I had no idea how I was going to try to escape. I was taking each day as it came, hour-by-hour, minute-by-minute.
I prayed to God for guidance and then, when it happened, when my chance came, I didn’t hesitate. I went all-in.
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I’ll go with you to get a girl. And then after that I want to see my family. I can’t take you with me because, you know, there’s going to be a whole lot of questions since I’ve been gone a long time and they’re going to be very upset. Give me a chance to talk to them and explain to them what is going on, that I’ve got an old man and we were away. Smooth things over. And t
hen I’ll come back and get you and you can meet everybody.’
‘Okay, fine.’
And that was it. I didn’t need to say anymore. He agreed. Although I knew all about Gary and his background, the fact was he still didn’t know an awful lot about me. All he knew was that I had kids – I hadn’t revealed to him that they weren’t living with me or who exactly I meant when I said ‘my family’.
But I didn’t need to give him any more details – he said yes and that was all I needed.
Since then I’ve frequently wondered why he agreed so readily. Did he want to be caught? Was he ready for it all to be over? I don’t know. In some way I think he was just so convinced that we were in this together, it didn’t occur to him that I wouldn’t do as I said.
He had what he wanted: somebody who cared about him, somebody who knew and understood his plight.
If it had been me, I would never have agreed. I would have looked straight at me and said, ‘What? Do you think I’m stupid?’
Whether he trusted me or just wanted the whole thing to end, I for one was definitely ready for it to be done and over with. I’d been captured in November, it was now the end of March. Yes, I was ready for it all to end.
It was around 7 p.m. when we headed out in the Cadillac. It was a cool, breezy night and we were cruising slowly down Front Street when we saw a girl I recognized standing on the street corner. I knew her as Vickie from a time when we both worked at a strip club called Hearts and Flowers but I later came to learn her name was Agnes Adams.
‘Hey Gary! Gary!’ she was calling out and waving from across the street. Clearly she knew Gary too.
Gary stopped the car and she got in the back seat. She noticed me next to Gary: ‘Oh Nicole! How you doing?’
I managed a faint: ‘Hey Vickie.’ And Gary and Vickie had a quick conversation. They’d been together before and he was offering her the same deal as last time: $30 to go back to his, which she readily agreed to.
This ain’t good, I was thinking. This ain’t good at all.
But in my mind I was trying not to focus on Vickie – I was playing the long game and if things went right and my massive gamble paid off, she wouldn’t be in the basement too long.
Cellar Girl Page 14