Beneath the Mask of Sanity

by Mark Phillips

  Bentley smiled, pulled the knife back and stepped away from Katie.

  “You see, all of us have it in us to be violent. But you don’t want to get your hands dirty. You don’t want to be “bad” whatever that means. So you watch violent movies. You play violent games. It’s a catharsis. A way to release what you really feel.”

  Bentley bent down in front of Katie. “You see, violent entertainment doesn’t cause violence, it’s caused by violence. Our own natural violence makes that entertainment popular. You need that entertainment, or else, there would be no release.”

  “So what makes you different?”

  “Ah,” Bentley said. “There is the question. There is the question, indeed. Why am I different? That’s what you’re going to tell me.”

  “Why me?”

  “I like girls,” Bentley said. Boys don’t have any real understanding of their feelings, they barely have them. But girls. Girls are all emotion. You are so different from me.”

  “You don’t have emotions?” Katie asked.

  “I really don’t know. I suspect not. If I did, I think I’d know them.”

  “You don’t have a conscience.”

  Bentley turned sharply. “Conscience is a word used by you people to explain away what you don’t understand. Do you really expect me to believe that you all hear a little voice in your head that tells you what’s right and what’s wrong?”

  “It’s not like that. It’s just something you know.”

  Bentley seemed to consider this, then he shook his head. “Bullshit. What you feel is only what your parents told you was right and wrong. What society tells you. You all have the urge to kill, but you don’t do it because you’re afraid. I think fear is the dividing line between you people and me. It’s what makes you sheep.”

  Katie didn’t know if any of this was going to help either her or her mother, but she wanted to keep him talking. The more he talked the longer it was going to be before he killed her.

  “Fear of what?”

  “Fear of a mythical parent in the sky that will punish you if you’re naughty. Fear of being caught and going to jail. I have none of these fears. I know there is no one in the sky. And the police are too stupid to ever catch me. Now, Bentley, he’d have been caught in an instant without me.”

  “Aren’t you Bentley?” Katie asked.

  “That’s what the police think. You see, I’ve spent a long time being Bentley, convincing myself I am Bentley, but the real Bentley, that idiot. He’s no where near the intellect I am.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “No,” Bentley said. “Bentley, the real Bentley, is another me, only there is something that makes him different as well. That is another mystery for another day. I’ve taught that idiot so many things. He grew up in an orphanage. He doesn’t have any fear either, but I think that’s mostly because he’s too stupid to be afraid. He killed some bully when he was a child. Then, when they questioned him, he killed a cop and ran. I found him shortly afterwards. They would have caught him if it weren’t for me.”

  Bentley kneeled down in front of Katie; she looked at the hand with the knife in it. His grip looked strong but maybe if she surprised him…

  “It was probably the letter,” Bentley said. “That stupid letter. I thought it was a mistake at the time, but perhaps now it will work to my advantage. You see, Bentley isn’t smart like me. He doesn’t know how to stalk a victim like I do. He has only one goal in life. To kill his Mother.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she abandoned him. So I tell him that I’ve found his Mother and guess what? She has a whole new family. I tell him I can give him his Mother. So I have Bentley find a family with a son. He kills them in his way, messy, quick. Then I take the boy’s identity. Like I did with Brandon. That way I get to know you. I can see if you can tell me the things I need to know.”

  “What things?”

  Bentley stood up. “Why we’re here, Katie. What makes you and me so different, yet so similar.”

  Katie shifted in her seat. “Why are you telling me all this?”

  “Because you need to know. You need to have all the information, only then can you tell me what separates us. Why I am the way I am.”

  “What about my Mother?”

  “That’s the best part of the whole thing. After it’s done and the family is dead, I tell him that I was wrong, that wasn’t really his Mother, and we just start all over again.”

  “My Mother is dead?”

  “I don’t think so,” Bentley said. “You see, usually when the killing starts I go until all of you are dead, but that didn’t happen this time. The police interfered this time. I sent Bentley to your mother’s house as a distraction. My guess is they either killed him or captured him. He’s far too stupid to elude the police.”

  “You don’t care that your partner is gone?”

  “No. I think in many ways Bentley was only holding me back, plus I never did get to kill the mothers. But he did teach me one valuable lesson. Shaving my body. Of course, he does it for purely hygienic reasons. I do it to cover my tracks.”

  “So you don’t know if my Mother is alive or dead?”

  “No.”

  “Well then fuck you!”

  Katie bolted out of the chair and headed for the back door. She had almost reached it when Bentley’s arm came down on her. Something pressed over her face and then, blackness.

  132.

  Dunham and Pappas stood over the corpse. Conrad and Frank stood next to them. Wilson and Snyder were out patrolling for the car.

  “What do you think we’ll find Frank?” Dunham asked.

  Frank only shrugged his shoulders and held up his pad of paper: Hunch.

  “Let’s do this quick,” Dunham said. “Before the M.E. takes the body away. Frank, you take the left pocket, I’ll take the right.”

  Frank dug his hand into the dead kid’s pocket and came out with a handful of gummy bears. They were warm and stuck to his hand. He waived them off and they landed on the floor.

  Dunham held a piece of paper in his hands. Holy shit! This is it; let’s get the fuck outta here.”

  133.

  Katie woke up again. She tried to move her arms, but they wouldn’t budge. She could kick out her legs, but what good did that do, Bentley was standing a good five feet away.

  “You’re awake,” he said. His voice purred.

  “Fuck you.”

  “Yes, you wanted to do that didn’t you? You wanted to…what was it…taste me. I had just killed Brenda.” Bentley moved closer. Katie stared back at him. The fear was gone, the hate was back. “How horrible would you have felt if I had let you blow me right after I killed your friend? That was a mercy I showed you; I wish you could afford me the same courtesy.”

  “Courtesy? You killed my father and my sister.”

  “And now they are together. Did you know that your sister cried for your Father when she died?”

  Katie’s body relaxed, her eyes were fixed on Bentley’s.

  “Of course you didn’t. How could you know? She wanted him to help her, like he’d helped the bear.”

  Now the tears began. Katie remembered Mr. Snuggly. She remembered how broken up Karen had been over him. It brought both of them back to life for her.

  “Just kill me. Kill me and get it over with, please.”

  “You see. All you sheep want to die when things get too hard. That is also something that I don’t understand. You’d rather be dead than feel emotional pain. Many of you kill themselves just to get rid of that pain. All I am is the cure for your pain, Katie. Ask yourself this, did you not feel pain before I killed your father? I know your father felt pain. I could see it on his face when he picked me up. That’s why I chose him.”

  “I don’t want to hear this. What do you want from me?”

  “Answers,” Bentley said and sat down Indian style in front of her. “I want answers. I have so many questions that I can’t answer myself. I’m always lonely. I don’t thin
k I feel loneliness in the same way that you people do, but I feel it. There is no one in the world that can relate to me. Even Bentley can’t. He’s not like you, but he isn’t like me either.”

  “I can’t give you any answers,” Katie said. “I don’t know how.”

  “I think you do. I think you know what I want to know. When I look into your eyes there’s something different. You aren’t like the others. I think you know.”

  “Don’t you care about what you do to people?”

  “No. I don’t. If you were in my position, would you?”

  “Of course I would. Anyone would. When you kill someone you don’t only kill them, you take away the life of the people that loved them. Do you have any idea what you did to my Mom? You should have seen the way she looked when she saw Karen.”

  “What did I do to you?”

  “You took away my sister and Dad.”

  “But is that all? Those words are only titles. I want to know how I affected your life.”

  “I don’t know!” Katie screamed. “I haven’t had any time to think.”

  “So are you saying that…”

  “Enough! I’m not answering any more of your questions. Kill me.”

  “Fine,” Bentley said. “You know, I thought you were different. I thought you were the one. Apparently I was wrong.”

  Bentley pulled out his knife and stood up. “I assure you that this will take awhile.”

  134.

  Dunham drove. Frank sat in the passenger seat and Pappas and Conrad sat in the back.

  “What the hell is it?” Pappas asked.

  “It’s a renter’s agreement,” Dunham said. “The name on it is Bango Skank, whatever the hell that means.”

  “There’s an address on it?”

  “It’s underlined,” Dunham said, glancing at the paper. “I think he wanted it to remember where to go.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a criminal genius,” Pappas said.

  Frank held out his pad of paper up.

  He wasn’t the genius, the other one was. He was the one that left the letter. The one that was so full of spelling errors.

  “So what are we going to do?” Pappas asked.

  Dunham opened his mouth, but closed it when he saw that Frank was already writing more down. He glanced at the paper and read it as Frank wrote.

  “I’m going in first, by myself. You three wait outside. If he expects anyone, he’ll expect me. After I distract him, you guys come in and we’ve got him.”

  “That puts you at considerable risk,” Conrad said.

  Frank shrugged.

  “Why don’t we go in groups of two?” Dunham asked.

  Frank shook his head, he didn’t bother to write on his paper, he wasn’t going to let anyone change the plan, his face said that clearly enough.

  Dunham turned the car down a side street and slowed. “It’s this street,” he said. He glanced at the numbers on the houses. “Looks like about ten houses down.” He pulled the car to the side of the road and shut off the motor. Then, he turned to the back. “Are we all clear on what’s happening?”

  The two in the back nodded.

  “Okay, then, Frank, you go. We’re going to wait here for a minute and then follow you.”

  Frank opened the door, but Dunham stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I’m not leaving you in there too long. You distract him fast, because we’re coming in and this bastard isn’t going to get away again.”

  Frank nodded and got out of the car. Dunham watched as he walked down the street. “I hope he knows what the fuck he’s doing.”

  “He does,” Conrad said. “He’s seen the guy; he knows what we’re dealing with.”

  135.

  Bentley began at the feet. They were an under appreciated part of the body. They got so little attention in the shower, so little care. People would do anything and everything to keep their faces looking good and young, but they could care less about their feet. A few little clippings of the nails and that was that.

  The feet were like Bentley. They kept things moving. They were what made the world what it was.

  He took his knife and sliced a crescent moon into big toe. Blood began to flow and Bentley put his mouth right on the skin and sucked some off. He raised his head and Katie stared at the man with the bloody mouth.

  “Your blood is sweet. Not as sweet as your sister’s, but still good.”

  Katie kicked out, but Bentley deflected the blow with his forearm and held Katie’s feet down. “You’re the one that said you wanted to die, so let me work.”

  Bentley raised the knife again and then stopped. He looked in the direction of the back door. He had neglected to lock it and now the knob was turning.

  Bentley looked at Katie and smiled. “Maybe that idiot did kill your Mother. Then all of you can be in heaven together, won’t that be grand?”

  The door opened and Bentley stood in surprise. “Detective. You are a burr aren’t you?”

  Frank smiled and walked forward, his gun was drawn.

  “Don’t you have any witty banter?” Bentley asked. “Oh, that’s right; you won’t be engaging in any deep conversations will you?”

  He smiled and moved behind Katie. “From your vantage point, you can’t hit me without risking the girl. And if you take another step forward I’ll kill her.”

  Frank stopped moving.

  “Throw down your weapon please.”

  Frank did.

  “Now please come over here.”

  Frank walked towards the pair. When he reached a distance of a few feet from them, Bentley held out his hand.

  “That’s far enough. Now kneel before me.”

  Frank kneeled. Bentley took the knife from Katie’s neck and smiled.

  “You people. You learn a little from your mistakes, but never enough. I can assure you that you won’t be waking up from this encounter, Detective.”

  136.

  Dunham reached the open door in time to see Frank walking towards Bentley. He raised his gun, but Frank was in the way of the shot. Then, miraculously, Frank dropped to his knees. Dunham raised his gun and took aim.

  137.

  Bentley watched as Frank’s knees unhinged to kneel and that’s when the pain started. It was a starburst of angry bees exploding in his shoulder. He was driven back and to the ground. The knife sailed from his hand and landed across the room.

  Frank was up in an instant.

  “I missed!” Dunham shouted from the doorway. “Get him!”

  Bentley tried to sit up, but then weight piled down on him. Suddenly he was on his stomach and cold metal touched his wrists. He felt the cuffs lock and he stopped struggling. There was no point now.

  Frank put a knee into Bentley’s back to keep him from squirming. Dunham and Conrad rushed forward and grabbed the kid’s arms. They hauled him to his feet and spun him around.

  Frank looked into the eyes of his would be killer and saw something odd, fear.

  “What’s going on?” Bentley asked.

  “Glad you asked,” Pappas said, walking into the room. ‘You’re under arrest for the murder of George Braddock.”

  “Who’s George Braddock?” Bentley asked.

  “Let’s get him the fuck outta here,” Dunham said.

  The three of them led the babbling kid out the door.

  Frank turned to Katie. She was crying.

  “I wanted him to kill me,” she said. “My whole family’s dead.”

  Frank shook his head. He walked across the room and grabbed the knife that Bentley had dropped. He walked over and slit the ropes holding the girl. Then he pulled his pad out of his pocket and wrote:

  Your Mom is alive. She’s in the hospital, but she’s gonna be okay.

  Katie threw her arms around Frank and hugged him. She hugged him like Karen hugged her Mr. Snuggly.

  138.

  Dr. Abrams sat in the brown leather chair in his office. His subject was lying on the black couch. The subject had elected to lie and Dr. Abr
ams noted that on his pad of paper.

  “Do you know why you’re here, Charles?”

  “I told you, my name is Bentley.”

  “That’s what you believe?”

  “It’s my name.”

  “Well, Bentley, do you know why you’re here?”

  “Because the police think I did that stuff to those people.”

  “Partly. What else?”

  “My lawyer says I’m nuts.”

  “Do you think you are nuts?”

  “No.”

  “Do you remember what you did to George Braddock?”

  “I don’t even know who that is.”

  “What about Detective Miles or Katie Braddock?”

  “Don’t know ‘em.”

  “They were the people in the house with you. The people that you were going to kill.”

  Bentley looked at the doctor. “I never killed anyone in my life and I sure as hell wouldn’t start now.”

  “Okay, what about your childhood?”

  Bentley shifted on the couch. “What about it?”

  “What do you remember about that?”

  “I grew up in an orphanage. I ran away when I was twelve.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I didn’t like it there. Jeeze for a shrink you don’t know much about life.”

  “Did you hurt anyone while you were there?”

  “No, they hurt me. They were mean to me. That’s why I left. After that I’ve just been wandering around.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “I don’t know. Here and there. I never stay in any place too long. Usually I wake up and I’m somewhere else.”

  “Do you ever have dreams?”

  “Yeah. I dream about the orphanage. And I dream about what it would be like to hurt people.”

  “But you’ve never actually hurt anyone?”

  “Hell no. And dreaming about it isn’t weird is it? I mean doesn’t everything think about what it would like to hurt someone that hurt you?”