Defiled

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Defiled Page 10

by Margaret Buffano


  “The night the gay guy’s killed, bartender says ‘He looks familiar.’ …Give me a break! Again, you’ve got no witness, no fingerprints, and no murder weapon. This gun, with or without blanks…where the hell is it? All the dirty phone calls…nothing but bull! Richard Haywood’s voice patterns don’t line up with the voice on message machine. They’re two different voices. And at Sandy Beach, it’s the same. …You got squat.

  “Swiss cheese is what you two have…Swiss cheese with holes! And here’s the biggest hole of them all.” He tosses a folder on top of the desk.

  “What the hell is this?” Goebel asks.

  “That’s the test results from a blood sample I got from one Richard Haywood.”

  “I thought he was refusing to give a blood sample?”

  “He changed his mind. Prison bars have that effect on some people.”

  “So what did you find?” Goebel asks, opening the folder.

  “I checked him against the stillborn samples. No way is he the father. …I guarantee he’s not. Richard Haywood may be a cheat, a liar, and an adulterer, but he’s not your man.”

  “So? He still could have switched the bullets for blanks. He knows someone is after his wife, so he makes sure she’s defenseless. Who knows…maybe he hired this guy to do a number on his wife? I still say, this guy is dirty,” Goebel demands.

  “Yeah, but without the gun to prove it, you’ve got squat!” Dodson insists.

  “Back to square one…dammit.” Benson falls back in his chair.

  Dodson continues, “I suggest you guys stop feeling sorry for yourselves and hit the pavement running. Whoever this guy is, he’s one sick puppy. And this ain’t the end of it, by no means. This guy kills because he loves it. It’s like mother’s milk to him…he’s gotta have it.

  “I ran an autopsy on Carol Hastings. I’ve seen some sick bastards in my time, but this guy takes the cake. What he did to her down below must have taken two…three hours. And, it’s not just knife cuts. …It’s pins…nails…thumb tacks…and God knows what else.

  “She’s got teeth missing, and there’s the missing left ear unaccounted for. I’m sure you two saw what he did to her throat? He cuts her throat nearly from ear to ear … reaches into the opening and pulls her tongue out and has it sticking out of the slit. I thought I’d seen it all, but this guy…”

  Goebel and Benson look at each other. They know they have to continue the investigation – but where to start?

  “You guys going to release the husband?” Dodson asks.

  “After what you just showed us, we have to,” Goebel says. “But do us a favor; tell him you couldn’t run the test on the blood sample right away. Let the bastard sit for a day or two.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Remembering

  Angela draws the curtains across the windows. The living room goes dark with just enough light to make out shapes – no colors, just faded grays. Two overstuffed chairs are arranged in the middle of the room with a small floor lamp next to them. She directs Helen to sit in one as she takes the other. She turns on the lamp, dimly illuminating only the space where they are – all around is blackness, as if they are in a bubble of light, a bubble suspended in a sea of shadows.

  “Now, just relax,” Angela says. “Close your eyes and take a few slow, deep breaths.”

  Helen closes her eyes and breathes deeply, her hands resting on the arms of the chair. Angela holds her hand up two feet from Helen’s face.

  “Good…Now, I want you to open your eyes and follow my hand. Don’t move your head; just follow my hand with your eyes.”

  Angela moves her hand slowly back and forth in front of Helen’s face. She begins to move her hand close and then faraway as well.

  “That’s good. …Just follow my hand…keeping it in focus always. …Good…just keep it in focus. It’s so difficult for you to keep focused on my hand. It’s so tiring. Your eyes are beginning to feel heavy. You can hardly keep them open. They’re getting heavier. …You can’t keep them open any longer. Close your eyes and relax. The sound of my voice is all you hear. Relax.”

  Once Helen’s eyes close, Angela puts her hand down. She taps a small tape recorder at her feet to turn it on.

  Angela begins asking questions of Helen, trivial things, to allow her to relax and go deeper into the trance.

  Finally, when Helen is well under, Angela slowly begins regressing Helen through the years of her life, back to being a little girl.

  “You’re nine years old, Helen. I want you to go back to a summer’s day when you and your family took a trip to Sandy Beach.”

  “I’m wearing my new swimsuit today,” Helen says, in the tone and manner of a small child. “See? It’s lime green with a big yellow flower and made of elastic and all stretchy.”

  “Who’s going to Sandy Beach with you?” Angela asks.

  “There’s me…Mommy and Daddy…Uncle Jerry and Aunt Eleanor…my two cousins, Nicholas and Victor, and International Nancy.”

  “Nancy’s your doll…isn’t she?”

  “My favorite. …When you pull her string, she says stuff from all over the world. ‘Wherever you go…you always know…just how to say hello.’”

  “Is it a long ride to Sandy Beach?”

  “A real long time…we’re in Uncle Jerry’s station wagon. I’m riding in the back with Victor and Nicholas.”

  “Tell me about your cousins, Victor and Nicholas.”

  “I hate them. They’re stupid boys. They think because they’re older and bigger they can be mean…always pinching me and pulling my hair. Hey, stop that!”

  “What just happened, Helen?”

  “Nicholas pulled the elastic on my swimsuit and snapped it back on me. Hey, stop that!”

  “Helen, you’re no longer in the car. You’re at the lake…at the picnic area with your family. Tell me about your aunt and uncle. What’s your Aunt Eleanor like?”

  “Daddy says she looks like a scarecrow…she’s really skinny. Mommy calls her ‘The woman who wasn’t there,’ and not very smart. But I like her. …She’s nice.”

  “And what’s your Uncle Jerry like?”

  Helen is silent for a moment.

  “He’s got so much hair on his arms, but hardly any on his head. And he’s got a big, fat belly that sticks way out. I don’t like him much; he’s always teasing me. He don’t shave real good. And when he kisses me, it scratches my face.”

  “Does your uncle kiss you often?”

  “All the time. …I wish he wouldn’t. …It scratches.”

  “Now, Helen…it’s later in the day. …What are you doing?”

  “Walking up and down the beach. …I’ve got Nancy in my arms. …I’m pulling her string …I’m going to learn how to speak every language there is.”

  “Why aren’t you playing with the other children?”

  “I don’t know anybody. Nicholas and Victor are no fun. Besides, everyone is swimming. I don’t like the water. I’m afraid of it. I can’t swim. One day, I’ll learn how to swim, and I’m going to go all the way out to the platform in the middle of the lake.”

  “Where are your two cousins?”

  “I see them over by the diving board. They just went into the woods. Mommy says we’re not supposed to go into the woods. I’m running to the trail behind the diving board. …I can’t see them. Now I’m following them. I’m afraid, but I keep walking and pulling the string on my doll. It’s getting darker, but I keep walking. Oh…my…!”

  “What is it, Helen? What do you see?”

  “I’m in a clearing…with trees all around. …It’s dark!”

  “Who’s in the clearing with you?”

  “I’m not sure. …I’m scared.”

  “Don’t be afraid, Helen. Tell me who’s there.”

  “I’m not sure. …I see…Nicholas…and Victor…and Uncle Jerry.”

  Helen flinches in her chair.

  “Helen, what just happened?”

  “Somebody just took my picture…flashbulb went off i
n my eye. …I can’t see too good. Nicholas and Victor are picking on me, but Uncle Jerry is stopping them. He says I can stay if I join the club. What am I supposed to do? Hey, give that back! They just took my doll. They say I’ll get it back later, but first I’ve got to join the club. I’m supposed to do whatever Nicholas and Victor do.”

  Helen begins to laugh and giggle.

  “What are you laughing at, Helen?”

  “Nicholas and Victor…they just took off their swimsuits…they’ve got nothing on. Their…things…are so tiny and funny looking. They’re doing silly things.”

  “What silly things, Helen?”

  “To each other…you know…silly things.”

  Helen flinches again.

  “Did someone take another picture?” Angela asks.

  “Yeah…of Nicholas and Victor…Uncle Jerry is taking off his swim trunks, now. He’s doing silly things with the boys. They want me to take off my swimsuit. No…no…I won’t…I won’t! Uncle Jerry told the boys to grab me. …They’re holding me down on the ground! No…no…no!”

  “It’s all right, Helen. You don’t have to stay there. Let’s jump ahead in time. It’s an hour later. You’re safe now.”

  “I can’t find my doll. Where’s my doll? They said they’d give her back.”

  “Where are you, Helen?”

  “I’m lost in the woods. I’m trying to get back to the beach. I hear voices. I’m just following the voices. I’m crying. I can hardly see. I hurt…it hurts to walk…I hurt so much.”

  “Where do you hurt, Helen?”

  “Down below…in my private place. I see my parents. My father is packing the car. My mother wants to know where I’ve been, but I just keep on crying. She sees I don’t have my doll. …She thinks that’s why I’m crying.

  “During the drive home, I make-believe I’m asleep. …I don’t want to look at anybody.

  “At home, my mother puts me to bed. My father comes in to kiss me goodnight. He says I shouldn’t cry over my lost doll. He’s going to take me to the toy store to buy whatever doll I want. But…I want Nancy!”

  Tears begin flowing from Helen’s eyes. Angela slowly brings her back through the years.

  “Now, Helen, when I count to three, you’re going to wake refreshed, as if after a long night’s sleep. All the images you’ve seen are nothing but shadows. …They can’t hurt or touch you any longer. …There’s nothing to be afraid of. …They’re just shadows. One…two…three…”

  Helen opens her eyes and stares expressionlessly. She finally speaks, “That was only the first time.”

  “What do mean? What are you saying?” Angela asks.

  Helen shakes her head, trying to clear her thinking. “None of it is completely clear still, but I remember more than ever. That day at the beach when I was nine was only the first time. It happened other times over the years till I became a teenager. Then it stopped – that is, until recently.”

  “How many times did this happen?”

  “I’m not sure. I just know it was a few times.”

  “Was it by your uncle or your cousins?”

  “I only remember that there was always more than one, perhaps all three, for all I know. Or maybe I’m mixing it up with the first time, and there was only one of them. Maybe after the first time it was only one of them. I’m not sure. I only know…I’m sure…it happened many times.”

  Helen is shaking, half from fear, but also from anger.

  “How do you feel?” Angela asks.

  “I feel…defiled. …I feel…dirty. What they did to me that day …I wouldn’t let anyone do to me now…and I’m a grown woman! But to do that with a child is…is…I can’t express how it makes me feel.”

  “Didn’t your mother say your uncle died years ago?” Angela asks.

  “So she says…so she believes…but that doesn’t make it true. Perhaps, he’s not dead! Stranger things have happened. It doesn’t matter, though…dead or alive…I know two boys who were there who are now grown men.

  “It might be a good time to renew some old family ties. I swear…I’m going to get to the bottom of this!”

  ***

  There is a knock at Angela’s office door. It is open, and she looks up to see Richard Haywood.

  “Richard?”

  He walks in and stands in front of her desk.

  “Helen tells me she’s been staying with you. I’ve tried to get her to come home, but she won’t. I called her at work, but all she says is she’s not ready to talk. What the hell is going on?”

  “You must understand Helen’s position,” Angela calmly says, “She’s frightened and confused. She’s learned from the police about your…affair. She feels betrayed by you. She doesn’t know where to turn. It’ll be a long time before she feels she can trust you again.”

  “Oh, and she trusts you, huh? Why doesn’t she stay with her parents? Why did she run to you? Something’s not right here.”

  “What are you implying, Richard?”

  “Oh, get off it, doctor. I see through your game. Helen’s vulnerable right now. I’ve heard about psychiatrists taking advantage of the doctor-patient relationship, but this is a new one on me.”

  Angela stands up, indignant.

  “If you’ve got something to say, Richard, say it and then get out of my office.”

  “Do I need to spell it out for you? A good-looking young blonde…running scared… A has-been, old, hippie dike…takes her under her wing…”

  “Get out of here, right now. Get out of my office!” Angela points to the door.

  “This isn’t the end of it…doctor…” Richard says, walking to the doorway, pointing back at Angela.

  “Are you threatening me?” Angela says through gritted teeth.

  “No, I’m warning you. I can make things pretty hot for you around here. I wonder what the superintendent would say if he knew what was going on right under his nose.”

  Angela rushes forward, pushes Richard out, and slams the door.

  “Get out of here with your filth!”

  ***

  Helen sits at a corner table of the café. Her mother Delores walks in and makes a beeline toward her.

  “This is so nice,” she says to Helen as she sits down, “having lunch together. Why don’t we do this more often? Oh, iced tea, please, and a Cobb salad,” she coos, smiling at the waiter.

  “I’ll have the same,” Helen adds.

  The first minute of their lunch conversation centers on her mother’s concern for her daughter. Then, Delores rambles on through the entire meal about trivial matters, which Helen always finds boring and trite, but is always willing to tolerate.

  When the waiter removes the empty plates, Helen abruptly changes the subject.

  “So…the other day, you told me Aunt Eleanor is still living in Tannersville, and I was wondering…”

  “What’s with all these questions lately about your Uncle Jerry and his family?” her mother interrupts.

  “Oh, it’s just that I have to go to Tannersville on company business, and I thought it would be nice to take in a visit with her.”

  “What for?” laughs her mother. “We haven’t seen each other since your Uncle died.”

  “That’s just it,” Helen says, “She’s still family, and I’ll be in Tannersville.”

  “I suppose I could call her and tell her you’ll be coming,” her mother says thoughtfully.

  “And Nicholas and Victor, my cousins, do they still live in Tannersville?”

  “My goodness, don’t you remember? Nicholas died in a car accident when he was still in high school. Victor married…has a couple of kids…two boys, I think. Last I heard, he’s still lives in town not far from his mother’s.

  “When your uncle died, he left a good amount of life insurance money to your aunt. Which was a good thing…poor dear. …Fifteen years ago, your Aunt Eleanor had a stroke. She’s been in a wheelchair since. Has a live-in nurse to cook, clean, and take care of her. Good thing she has that money.”
r />   “How did Uncle Jerry die?” Helen asks.

  “Heart attack…fell facedown dead in Barcelona, Spain…on the steps of that big church they have out there. He and your aunt were there on vacation. He was walking up the stairs to the church and feel facedown dead…heart attack.”

  “And you went to the funeral?”

  “Why, of course; we went to the funeral.”

  “And you saw the body?

  “What a strange question to ask. But, now that you mention it, there wasn’t a body…not really. Your poor aunt was there in Spain alone…the poor dear. …She didn’t know what to do. Found out it costs a fortune to ship a body back to the states. So she had him cremated there and came back with his ashes in an urn.

  “I don’t like the idea of cremation. …But then again, being in the ground with all those worms – it makes me shiver. What do you think, darling?”

  “So if you call Aunt Eleanor, you think I could visit her?” Helen asks, ignoring her mother’s question.

  “Oh, I suppose so. I’ll give her a call tonight.”

  Her mother picks up the tab the waiter left on the table.

  “And lunch is on me. This was fun! We should do this more often.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Don’t Go in the Basement

  Tannersville is no different from any other small rural town. In the center of town stands its hundred-year-old, two-story city hall, surrounded on all sides by small, family-owned businesses: the feed store, shoe repair, hardware, clothing, furniture and food. No frills, just the basics.

  In front of city hall, on both sides of the walkway to the entrance, are rows of empty park benches – empty save for one. On it sit four old codgers, each dressed in blue overalls and straw fedoras. Each with a mouth full of chewing tobacco, taking turns spitting brown spittle on the grass. It is late in the day. They talk about the weather, the price of feed, the local gossip, and when being all talked out, they sit silently together watching the world. They watch Helen as she gets out of her car and approaches.

 

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