Edgewise

by Graham Masterton

  She lifted the fireguard away. The logs were burned only on the underside, as if they had been laid on to the fire not much more than a half-hour ago. But there was something on top of them—something black and wedge-shaped, with tiny pinprick sparks glowing all over it. And something was hanging down from the chimney in long festoons—something gray and beige and glistening, like the loops of a fire hose.

  Frowning, Lily picked up the poker and prodded the black object two or three times, trying to turn it over to see what it was. One of the logs abruptly dropped, and the object toppled with it. To Lily’s horror, she saw a single amber eye staring up at her.

  She heard the front door open, and Tasha called out, “Mom! Mommy! What’s happening? We’re freezing out here!”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Special Agent Kellogg said, “How are the kids taking it?”

  Lily shrugged. “Badly. How do you think? They grew up with Sergeant. They adored him.”

  “So what did you tell them?”

  “What could I tell them? I could hardly pretend that it was an accident.”

  A woman detective came into the kitchen, snapping off her latex gloves. She was mid-thirties, with wiry black hair and bulbous brown eyes. She wore a dark brown duffel coat and a thickly knitted mustard-colored sweater which made her look as if she didn’t have a neck.

  “I never saw anything so disgusting,” she said.

  “Have the CSU finished up yet?” asked Special Agent Kellogg.

  “Well . . .” said the detective, dubiously, looking at Lily.

  Special Agent Kellogg said, “Maybe you should check on the kids.”

  “I’m okay. Really.” Lily tried to smile, although she was very far from okay. She felt as if her mind had been smashed like a trodden-on mirror, and she couldn’t stop shivering. But she didn’t want to go upstairs to see Tasha and Sammy—not just yet, because their distress was more than she could bear. Tasha was almost hysterical, while Sammy was silent and seemed to have forgotten how to blink. Agnes was with them now, trying to comfort them.

  The detective said, “okay . . . we’ve managed to extricate the dog’s insides from out of the flue, poor creature. We found half of its hindquarters up on the roof, protruding from the chimney stack. We’re still missing one leg and part of its rib cage.”

  Lily pressed her hand against her mouth. She prayed that Sergeant hadn’t suffered too much.

  “Any idea how the perpetrator did it?” asked Special Agent Kellogg.

  “Not yet. It doesn’t look like the dog was pushed up the chimney, because the perpetrator would have needed some kind of device like a sweep’s brush, and there’s no trace of soot on the rug in front of the fire.”

  “So maybe it was pulled up the chimney?”

  “With a rope? That’s a more practical explanation, but the trouble with that scenario is that there are three inches of snow on the roof and no trace of anybody having climbed up there. No ladder marks, no footprints.”

  “So where does that leave us?”

  “I honestly can’t tell you. Right now, we don’t have a suspect, we don’t have a logical motive, and we don’t have any meaningful forensic evidence whatsoever. One of our guys even suggested that the perpetrator might have been a giant ape, like in The Murders in the Rue Morgue. You know, that Edgar Allan Poe story, where the girl’s body gets shoved up the chimney.”

  “Whoever it was, how the hell did they get in here? There’s no sign of forced entry and every door and window is locked and alarmed.”

  “Every alarm has a code, Agent Kellogg. Maybe the perpetrator was somebody connected with the security company, or somebody who visited the house recently—a cleaner, or a decorator. Can you think of anybody like that, Mrs. Blake?”

  Lily whispered, “No.”

  “Well, maybe you could put your mind to it. Meanwhile, is there anyplace else that you can stay tonight? We’ll arrange a motel for you and your children if you need it.”

  Lily said, “You don’t have to worry about that. We can go to my sister’s in Wayzata.”

  “Okay then. We’ll make sure that an officer keeps a watch on you. Until we know why this freak wanted to kill your dog and how he managed to do it, I’m going to make sure that you get around-the-clock protection.”

  I wish you could protect us, thought Lily. But there’s only one way to stop the Wendigo coming after us, and that’s to give George Iron Walker what he wants.

  By the time they reached Agnes and Ned’s house, just after ten-thirty P.M., Tasha and Sammy were much calmer. Sammy’s eyelids kept drooping, and so Lily carried him upstairs to the playroom and tucked him into one of the bunk beds. When she came back down again, Tasha was sitting by the fire with a mug of warm milk, with Red the cocker spaniel lying close beside her.

  “Mommy,” said Tasha, “everything’s going to be all right, isn’t it? I mean, nothing bad is going to happen to us, is it?”

  “No, sweetheart. I promise.”

  She had already called Bennie three times since they had arrived here, and John Shooks twice. Neither of them had picked up. As she went into the kitchen to talk to Agnes, however, her cell warbled and it was Shooks, answering her call.

  “Mrs. Blake?”

  Lily went back to the hallway, where Agnes wouldn’t be able to overhear her. “Mr. Shooks, do you know what’s happened tonight?”

  “I know that George Iron Walker isn’t at all happy with you, Mrs. Blake.”

  “He sent that thing to kill my dog.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Blake. You can’t say that I didn’t warn you.”

  “Well, tell George Iron Walker from me that I will never forgive him, ever, but he can have his piece of land. I have to get hold of the land title, but as soon as I do, I’ll call you, and we can arrange to meet.”

  John Shooks cleared his throat with a sharp rattle. “I think you’re taking the most sensible course of action, Mrs. Blake. I wouldn’t like to see you or your family caused any further distress.”

  “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Shooks.”

  “Oh, I’m not. If anything, I’m on your side. I’m only an eighth Native American, remember. The rest of me is pure paleface.”

  Lily ended the call and tried Bennie again.

  A few minutes before midnight, when Lily had almost given up trying, Bennie at last picked up. “Lil . . . hi! I’m sorry, I got all of your messages, but I’ve been running here, there, and every darn where. Is anything wrong?”

  “I can’t tell you the full story, Bennie—not yet, anyhow. But this is urgent. I need the title to that piece of land at Mystery Lake, and I need it first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Uh-huh,” said Bennie.

  “I can come around to the office and pick it up, if you like.”

  Bennie didn’t reply. Behind him, Lily could hear people laughing and chattering, and piano music. It sounded as if he were in a bar someplace.

  “Bennie? Did you hear what I said?”

  “Sure, Lil, I heard you. But I didn’t think you needed it any more.”

  “I know. But the situation’s changed. The tracker wants the land and he’s not going to give me any peace until he gets it.”

  “I’m sorry, Lil. I don’t think it’s going to be possible.”

  “But . . . hold on a minute. You said that it was all arranged. You said that Philip Kraussman was happy to donate it.”

  “It wasn’t as simple as that.”

  “What do you mean? I thought he was going to use it to show people what a great local hero he is.”

  “That was the idea, Lil. But to be honest with you there were complications.”

  A woman’s voice screamed out, “Bennie! Bennie! Come over here and show Lizzie your Deputy Dawg impression!”

  “What complications, Bennie?” Lily asked him, tersely.

  “Well, the truth is, Lil . . . when you told me that you’d hired yourself a Native American tracker . . .”

  “What are you trying to say to me? You didn
’t believe me?”

  “Of course I believed you. But I didn’t believe that this tracker of yours could actually find Jeff for you.”

  “But he did, Bennie. And now he wants what I promised him. He wants that piece of land, and if I don’t give it to him . . . I don’t know what he’s going to do. He’s killed my dog, Bennie! He’s killed Sergeant! He’s torn him to pieces and burned him on the fire!”

  “What? He’s done what? You need to call the cops, Lil. You need to have him arrested!”

  “I have called them, but they’ll never be able to find him. Listen to me, Bennie. I need that land title, as soon as you can get it for me. I’m afraid he’s going to come after Tasha and Sammy next.”

  “Lil, all I can advise you to do is call the cops. They’ll find the son-of-a-bitch. Like, how many Native American trackers can there be in the Twin Cities area?”

  “I have to have that land title, Bennie. That’s the only way I can ever be sure.”

  “Bennie!” screamed the woman. “Bennie! Come over here, will you?”

  Bennie said, “I’m sorry, Lil, you know how much you mean to me. I’m so fond of you, I really am. I guess I just wanted to impress you. How else can a guy like me hope to get close to a woman like you? You’re beautiful, Lil. I’d do anything.”

  Lily turned around. Agnes was standing in the kitchen doorway, with a questioning look on her face. She came and stood a little way away, waiting for Lily to finish on the phone.

  Lily said, “There is no land title, is there, Bennie?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Did you even raise the subject with Philip Kraussman? Did you even ask him?”

  “Not exactly, no. You know what Philip Kraussman’s like. He wouldn’t donate a bottle of sour milk to a starving baby.”

  Lily was so angry that she couldn’t speak. She had to breathe deeply to keep herself under control.

  “Lil?” asked Bennie. “Lil, are you still there, Lil?”

  “Let me tell you something, Bennie: if anything happens to Tasha and Sammy, or to me, then you’ll know that it’s your fault.”

  “Lil, I can get on to Philip Kraussman first thing tomorrow morning! I can try to swing it!”

  “Oh, you think? Jesus, Bennie—how could I have been so gullible?”

  “Lil, listen to me—please—”

  “It’s too late, Bennie. I’m too upset.”

  Lily switched him off.

  Agnes came up to her and took hold of both of her hands. “What’s happened, Lily?”

  “I can’t tell you. But I know who killed Sergeant, and I know why he killed him.”

  “You know who it was? My God, you need to tell the police!”

  “I can’t tell them, either. They just won’t believe me.”

  “Lily, this is crazy!”

  “I know it is. But I’ve gotten myself involved in something I shouldn’t have even thought about.”

  “Lily, please—tell me!”

  “I will, Agnes, I promise. But I have to get Tasha and Sammy away from here, tomorrow morning, as early as possible.”

  “What? Where are you going to go?”

  “Anyplace at all. Someplace where this person can’t find us. Europe.”

  “Europe? What are you thinking about?”

  “Agnes, this person doesn’t let anybody get away from him, ever. Wherever they go, he can find them. Please don’t ask me any more.”

  “Lily, this is madness! You’re shocked, you’re upset, that’s all!”

  “Yes, I am. But I know that we have to get as far away from here as we possibly can. Can I use your computer? I need to book a flight.”

  The alarm buzzed at seven A.M. Lily opened her eyes. At first she couldn’t remember where she was—but then, next to the alarm clock, she saw the familiar silver-framed photograph of herself and Agnes when they were at school.

  She switched on the bedside lamp. In the photograph, Agnes was dressed as Father Louis Hennepin, the Franciscan adventurer who had been the first European to set foot in Minneapolis. Lily wore a blanket and a beaded headband, to play the part of Father Hennepin’s Dakota guide.

  Both girls were laughing, although she couldn’t remember what they were laughing at. In the background stood the huge oak tree that they used to climb up, so that they could sit astride one of the branches and read Archie comics.

  She looked more closely. She had never noticed before that there was a figure standing beside the oak tree, partly sunlit and partly in shadow. It looked like a tall, thin man, yet its face was unusually long, almost like a dog or a deer, and its arms were bent.

  You’re allowing your imagination to play tricks on you again, she thought, and when she looked again she saw that the figure was nothing more than another tree, and a section of fence, and a bend in the sunlit path.

  She climbed out of bed and took down the floral-print bathrobe that was hanging on the back of the bedroom door. Downstairs, Tasha and Sammy were already sitting around the kitchen table, eating Cheerios, while little William was making a happy mess with a bowl of apricot purée. Agnes said, “Hi, Lily. Sleep well?”

  “Yes—surprisingly. Like a log. How about you, kids?”

  “I had a dream about Sergeant,” said Sammy. “But it was a nice dream. He was running and fetching sticks.”

  “Coffee?” asked Agnes. “How about some eggs?”

  “No eggs, thanks. Maybe some toast.”

  “Ned had to go into the office, but he’ll be back before nine. That’s unless you’ve changed your mind.”

  “Changed your mind about what, Mommy?” asked Tasha.

  Lily sat down, and Agnes gave her a large cup of black coffee. “I was thinking that we ought to take a vacation,” she said. “We deserve one, after all the horrible things that have happened.”

  “But I want to go back to school,” said Tasha. “I want to see all my friends again.”

  “I don’t want to go back to school,” Sammy put in. “I don’t want to go back to school ever.”

  Lily held Tasha’s hand. “You will go back to school, Tasha, I promise. But we need to go away for a while. What happened to Daddy—what happened to Sergeant—I can’t explain it yet, but they’re kind of connected. Somebody wants to hurt us and we have to make sure that they don’t know where we are.”

  “Somebody wants to hurt us? Who?”

  “It’s really better that you don’t know.”

  “Why would anybody want to hurt us?” asked Sammy. “We haven’t done anything.”

  “Well, you remember the poem about the Pied Piper? How he got rid of all the rats, but once they were gone, the people in Hamelin wouldn’t pay him?”

  “I don’t understand,” said Tasha.

  “This is the same, in a way. I said that I would pay somebody for something that they did for me, but I can’t. So that’s why he wants to hurt us.”

  “Can’t you borrow the money?”

  “It’s not money he wants,” said Lily. “Please—don’t ask me any more, sweetheart, not at the moment. I’m going to try to find a way to pay him, but I need some time.”

  American Airlines flight 1437 was scheduled to leave Minneapolis at twelve thirty-five that afternoon, heading for Paris, France, with a stopover in Chicago.

  “What are we going to do about clothes?” asked Tasha. “We only have this one overnight bag.”

  “I’ll buy you more clothes when we get to Paris. New jeans, new sweaters—everything.”

  “Really?” Tasha was beginning to look more cheerful now.

  “Where’s Paris?” Sammy wanted to know.

  Tasha said, “It’s the capital of France, stupid.”

  “Where’s France?”

  “It’s a country where they speak French all the time and eat very long bread and snails.”

  “Urgh! Snails are even worse than pineapple! I don’t want to go there!”

  Ned arrived. He bustled into the house in his padded windbreaker, chafing his hands togeth
er. “Think we’re in for another snowstorm. Sooner we get you to MNP, the better. We can swing by your place and collect your passports on the way.”

  They left the house. While Agnes and Ned helped the children into their Explorer, Lily crossed over the road and went up to the two police officers sitting in a radio car. They were drinking coffee and they had the engine running to keep themselves warm. The driver put down his window and said, “Everything okay, ma’am? You going out for a while?”

  “We’re going to do some shopping at Calhoun Square, if you want to take some time out. We’ll be back around four o’clock this afternoon.”

  “You want us to come with you?”

  “I don’t think that’s going to be necessary, thanks. We’ll be walking around the mall the whole time.”

  “All the same, I’d better check.”

  The officer called headquarters, and then said, “Okay. That’s fine. But call us immediately if there’s any sign of trouble, or you notice anybody acting suspicious. See you back here at four.”

  Lily came back and climbed into the backseat of Agnes and Ned’s Explorer. “I hope the police don’t give you a hard time, when you come back without us.”

  “I doubt it, if we tell them that you’ve flown to France. It’ll save them from sitting out in the cold all night, freezing their butts off.”

  They drove to Lily’s house first. Lily peeled the bright-yellow crime-scene tape away from the front door and opened it up. Quickly, she crossed into the living room and took their passports out of her bureau. The house was chilly and dark, and there was still a lingering stench of burned dog hair. She wondered if they would ever be able to come back to live here again.

  As they drove south on I-35W toward the airport, the sun disappeared behind a dark bank of orange-tinted snow cloud, and the day began to grow gloomier and gloomier.

  “You’ll call us when you get to Chicago?” asked Agnes.

  “Of course. And when we get to Paris.”