Halversham

by RS Anthony

  They took the stairs, leaping up two steps at a time, and circled to the back of the house as Andy pulled out his key. “What if he has a visitor?” He’d panicked suddenly. “What if there’s someone inside?”

  “We’ll just cook up a story. You work here and you left something behind when you came two days ago. So you’re here to pick it up. Come on, it’s already half past eleven. We have to leave by three-thirty.”

  Andy inserted the key, turned it, and in less than a minute, they were inside.

  “Wow!” Jared said, looking around. “Doesn’t look that big from outside, does it?”

  Andy ignored him and said, “Hello? Anybody home?” His heart was beating fast. “Hello?” When there was no reply, Andy finally relaxed. There was a large box on the counter and Andy’s eyes zeroed in on it.

  “Where should we start?” Jared asked, tearing Andy’s eyes away.

  “Let’s start with the kitchen,” Andy said, and he combed every inch of the floor, cupping his ears to the floorboards to listen for strange noises. Once in a while Jared would knock on the boards and listen to the sound. “I don’t think it’s here,” Andy said finally when they had searched the entire space. “Let’s check the hallway.”

  Once again, they cupped their ears and knocked on floorboards. They ran their fingers along every crevice, nook, and cranny to avoid missing a clue. But there was nothing. The two did the same in the hall, dining room, wet kitchen, and every other space there was on the ground floor. Nothing.

  Jared walked along the hallway again and tried one of the locked doors.

  “Why are these rooms locked?”

  “They’re just bedrooms.”

  “What if the trapdoor is in one of these rooms?” Andy opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again. He hadn’t thought of that before. “What about that room over there?” Jared asked, pointing at the store room.

  “That’s the store room.”

  “We might as well check it out,” Jared said, shrugging.

  Andy opened the door to the room he had been cleaning just the other day and went in. It was the only room with carpet flooring, and the boys immediately perked up at the realization.

  “It has to be here,” Andy said, crawling on all fours.

  Jared dropped to his knees and ran his fingers along the carpet for the telltale sign of a bump or groove. Although Andy had cleared a great amount of junk from the room the other day, there was still a considerable amount left on the floor. Andy moved toward the far corner to the right where the floor was bare and ran his fingers along the carpet again. He pressed sections of it with the heels of his palms and suddenly felt a groove that was barely noticeable. Andy ran his palm across the other sections and came back to the same spot again. And there it was again.

  “Jared, I think I’ve found something here.”

  Andy inched toward the edge and carefully peeled back the carpet. To his surprise, it lifted without resistance. He pulled it all the way up as Jared came over.

  “There it is!” Jared exclaimed, pointing at a chrome trapdoor ring on the floor. Andy folded the carpet back and crouched on the floor while Jared reached for the handle. He pulled it up and the door lifted with a loud creak. It was dark inside, but there was a wooden ladder descending into the darkness below. Jared stuck his hand through the opening and ran it along the underside. His fingers hit a switch and lights filled the chamber.

  Andy looked around the opening, but other than the ladder, he couldn’t see anything from up there.

  “Hello? Anybody down here?” he called out. Not a sound drifted up except for the floorboards creaking under their feet. “Hello?”

  “We need to get down there,” Jared said. “Come on.”

  He lowered himself into the opening and stepped on a rung. He held the sides of the ladder as he descended and finally reached the landing. Andy stepped on the first rung just as Jared turned around and whistled expansively at the basement. He went down quickly and saw what had captivated Jared.

  The ornate stone cellar had large wall-mounted racks from floor to ceiling, displaying an array of top-notch wines and champagnes. It was beyond what Andy’s father had in their city home. He walked toward one of the racks and read the label on a bottle. Despite being eighty-nine years old, both the bottle and label were in immaculate condition. There were wines from as far away as Australia, Cyprus, and Finland, and many other parts of the world. In other racks, there were still more wines and champagnes, all from a long time ago and places far away.

  “So it is a cellar,” Andy said.

  “Wait, what’s that over there?”

  “Where?”

  “There—that door in the wall.” Jared pointed toward a stone wall at the far end with an ancient wooden door set into it. “Can you see it?”

  “Shhh…” Andy’s eyes bulged. “Did you hear that?” he whispered.

  “What?” A floorboard creaked above them and both boys froze. “Shit. We need to get out of here,” Jared whispered.

  When no other noise followed, Jared crept up the ladder and looked around to check if the coast was clear. It was. He climbed up and whispered for Andy to come up too. He gave him a hand, pulled the trapdoor, and closed it gently while their hearts pounded. The floorboards creaked again and Andy stopped to listen. They heard someone curse, a chair being dragged on the floor, and then footsteps. Andy had no doubt it was Mr. Milton. He was back from the fair early. The footsteps headed for the living room, and they heard him go up the stairs. The boys took the opportunity to kick the carpet over the trapdoor and rushed through the kitchen.

  Andy’s eyes caught the box on the counter again, and he made a quick stop to peer under the flaps.

  “What are you doing? Let’s go.” Jared was frantic.

  Nestled among shreds of paper was a large bottle of some liquor or other, labeled in Russian. Andy closed the flap again and joined Jared in running out and down the steps. The two only paused to breathe when they had reached the foot of the hill.

  “So, it is true,” Andy said, panting. “The man is just a wine connoisseur. He’s not the kidnapper.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “What? Did you see the wooden door?”

  “Oh, come on. I’m sure it’s just another door leading to more wine. He keeps all the premium bottles down there. Just like Millie said.” Sweat was pouring down their faces.

  “But we don’t know that. We have to go back to make sure. We were this close, Andy.” He pinched his finger and thumb. “I’m not letting go of the only chance to rescue my sister.” Jared glared.

  “No—I’m done! The girls aren’t there, and I don’t think the man is anything like what we thought. It wasn’t a girl the strange man was trying to sell to Milton the other day. It was a bottle of wine from Russia. I just saw it in the kitchen. I was wrong. I’m never snooping around the man’s house ever again.”

  Jared was still breathing hard, but his face fell. He was obviously crushed. “So where is Emily then?” His voice trembled.

  Andy shook his head. “I don’t know. But she’s not there. I’m sorry, Jared.”

  Jared turned away with his hands on his hips and paced the field restlessly. He lowered his chin to his chest, brought his fists up to his head, and let out a woeful, soul-ripping moan. When that was not enough, Jared began to sob. Andy’s own tears threatened to fall, but he closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. A few minutes later, Jared looked up and his eyes were red. “What are you going to do about Corrine?”

  Andy dropped his head and shook it slowly. His worst nightmare had come true, and they were left with no other leads as to where Corrine might be. There was no guarantee she was even alive.

  “I don’t know,” he said again. “Join Sheriff Calaway’s search party again, I guess.” He walked toward Brutus’s rock and sat down, hanging his head. He had failed his Aunt Magda so many times now, he was ashamed to face her ag
ain.

  Jared nodded, wiping his nose. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll turn up. The search team is still out looking for her. Who knows, we might catch a break.” After all these years, for the first time, Jared’s eyes registered defeat.

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  ***

  Andy walked back alone after declining Jared’s offer to accompany him. They were both grieving and Andy wanted to be alone. A part of him desperately wanted it to be Mr. Milton. It would have at least solved the mystery and given everyone a closure. But now the situation was nothing short of endless torture.

  A few minutes after three, he reached Aunt Magda’s. The back door was unlocked, so Andy pushed it open and sat in the kitchen. The two women who had been talking outside were gone and the house was empty. Aunt Magda and quite possibly Uncle Matt were at the fair. He opened the fridge and drank from a bottle of water before heading to Corrine’s room. Gloom accompanied his every footstep and it didn’t take long to engulf him completely. He wept and apologized for letting her down, for not taking her out of Halversham soon enough, for not walking her home that night. He cried and sobbed into Corrine’s pillow, asking for forgiveness again and again.

  When he finally looked up half an hour later, he was calmer. He hadn’t purged his guilt entirely, but he was calmer. He glanced around her room at the t-shirts and other pieces of clothing strewn about. And then his eyes zeroed in on the one thing that didn’t belong. Corrine’s sling bag. His breathing quickened as he stared at it. Why was her sling bag under the chair if she hadn’t come home? Andy froze as realization hit him. Corrine did come home before she disappeared. Nobody abducted her. The whole thing had been a farce right from the beginning.

  Andy rose from the bed and picked up her bag. He pulled the zipper and inspected the contents. There was nothing in it except for a few dollars, some coins, and pins. The bag itself was no bigger than his palm. He draped it on the back of the chair and headed for the door as his heart pounded steadily against his rib cage.

  He went through each room, checking the flooring, nooks, and crannies just the way he had in Milton’s house. Something sinister had definitely happened to Corrine, and it had happened here. If he looked closely enough, he was sure he’d find at least one clue leading to her whereabouts. Andy crouched on all fours, crawled on the floor, and rummaged through everything in sight. But apart from the sling bag, nothing else seemed suspicious. He leaned on the dining room wall and stared at the door to the one room no one ever went in. The store room.

  Andy stepped out through the back door and headed for the toolshed. He spotted what he needed immediately and picked it up. Returning to the store room, he aimed the crowbar at the flimsy knob. It wasn’t one of those oak doors like the ones in Mr. Milton’s place, so it wouldn’t be too difficult to open. Andy used all his strength and bashed the knob. It didn’t give at first, but when he tried again, the rickety door swung open, trembling on its hinges.

  Surprisingly, the room was clean and neatly arranged with large wooden crates on one side and several chest freezers on the other. By the sound of it, the freezers were turned on, which seemed bizarre considering no one came into this room. The rise and fall of the humming freezers and creaking floorboards as Andy stepped forward made his palms damp. He walked toward the crates not knowing what to expect, his hands firmly gripping the crowbar. The lids looked heavy, but he managed to pry open one of them with the crowbar and it lifted with a squeak. Andy peered inside, but there was nothing more than straw in loose bundles. Relieved, he tried the second crate, which revealed a collection of large jars. Andy leaned in and picked one up.

  As he raised it up to eye level, he almost passed out. The sealed glass jar contained countless bones, all dry and white. Andy placed the jar back in the crate and picked up another one. And another. Each contained more of the same. Some bones were long, others shorter. Some of them looked like they had been sawed into smaller parts to fit the jar.

  “What the hell is this? Why are there so many bones here?” Andy whispered hoarsely.

  No one else had access to this room except Aunt Magda. Maybe Uncle Matt. So whatever was in here had to be their doing. He closed the lid and moved to the freezers, his stomach lurching. He shuddered violently but steeled himself with a deep breath before lifting up one of the lids. Thankfully, it was an ordinary freezer packed with steaks, ground meat, peas, and sausages. Andy had half expected to find dead bodies frozen with ghastly expressions and contorted limbs. He breathed easy and picked up a bag of peas, turning it around in his hand.

  Still, something didn’t feel right. There was simply too much meat in here for a household of one and a half. Corrine never ate at home and Uncle Matt was hardly around. So why all this meat in a room that was always locked? He replaced the bag of peas, and as he did, he caught sight of a long swath of cream-colored cloth, half buried under the frost.

  Andy jabbed the ice and pulled out the cloth, but it disintegrated in his fingers. It wasn’t a piece of cloth at all—it was strands of hair.

  His eyes widened and he reached in to pull out the rest of it, but it was stuck. The meat packets above weighed it down and everything was frozen solid. Andy used the crowbar to remove the frozen meat packets and sausages from the top. Sweat rolled down his spine with every packet he removed. When the packet blocking the strands of hair finally came loose, Andy gasped. Underneath it all was a face, wearing a ghastly expression, frozen in time just the way he had imagined earlier. His hands shook, but he had to make out the face. He dropped the packet of meat on the floor, reached in, and scattered the powdery frost from around the eyes and mouth. The frost bit into his fingers, but he hardly felt it.

  He had definitely seen the face before. But where? One thing was clear—it wasn’t Corrine, and that alone made him thank the heavens. When he finally removed all the powdery frost, the face became clearer. Tears poured down his face as he struggled to take his phone out of his pocket. His fingers were numb and he struggled to unlock the screen. He tapped on the photo gallery and looked for a match among the photos he had saved from the internet not long ago. It wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for. His theory was confirmed—the frozen face belonged to Emily Doyne.

  But if the head is here, where’s the rest of the body?

  Andy slid the phone back into his pocket and removed two more packets of meat.

  The face that appeared next shook him to the core. It was Corrine’s. Andy wept and his tears fell into the freezer.

  “Oh God! Corrine, Corrine, Corrine,” he repeated between sobs like a madman. “I’m so sorry. I tried, I really did,” he said, snot stringing down from his nose.

  By the time he removed the final packet of ground meat, his hands were shaking so bad he could scarcely hold anything steady. There they were at the bottom of the freezer in Ziploc bags of various sizes, his mother’s loving creatures from the foothill. Brutus, Parky, Beth, Woolly, Frisk and Tintan were all staring back at him. Each one’s head had been severed and the body was gone. Andy’s insides roiled and heaved, and he bent over and threw up on the floor.

  “I am glad you found it,” a voice said, startling Andy. He stood upright, wiping the vomit from his lips. Aunt Magda stood in the doorway, her face serene. It was almost as if she had been waiting for this moment. “I am sorry you had to find out this way, but at least now it’s not a secret anymore.”

  “You! You did this. And you lied. About everything.”

  “Yes.” Aunt Magda’s hands were clasped in front of her and she appeared ready to face Andy’s accusations.

  “Why? Why did you kill the girls? And my mother’s poor dogs. What did they ever do to you?” Andy’s face crumpled in pain and disgust while Aunt Magda watched calmly. She took a few steps toward him and he held up the crowbar. “Don’t you dare come near me.”

  “Relax, Andy. I just want to put the packets back in the freezer so we can talk. I am not planning to resist my arrest and I do want to explain. But pl
ease let me put these back first.”

  Andy stepped aside, still holding the crowbar, as she walked to the freezer, paused at her daughter’s face, and covered it with the rest of the packets from the floor. Andy stood ready to strike, not once dropping his guard to help his aunt. When every packet had been replaced, she pulled the lid of the freezer closed.

  “Let’s go to the dining room.” She led the way, and Andy followed with the crowbar. She motioned for him to sit and walked to the stove. “Coffee?”

  “I’m sorry, I’m not in the mood for coffee.”

  “Well, I need it,” she said, turning back to the stove. It took her an eternity to make the coffee, pour it into a cup, and sit in front of him. She gently blew the steam and took a sip before placing the cup back on the table.

  “You may not believe this, but I was so glad when you finally came here. I held my breath every time you spoke to Corrine, but surprisingly, she never told you anything and the police never came to arrest us. I never expected it to go this far. I had really hoped Corrine would tell you everything and expose this sooner.”

  “Really? Because it sure didn’t look like that when you sat in front of Sheriff Calaway yesterday. You lied and led everyone to believe she was kidnapped.”

  Aunt Magda’s composed face finally crumpled to reveal a trace of regret.

  “I know. I know I did. We both came so close to being arrested, I panicked and did what I’d always done—I lied. Calaway came, set everything in motion, and soon we were spinning in a whirlpool of activities out of our control. But I swear I’m ready now. This has got to stop. I’ll tell you everything and then you can have me arrested. Just give me this chance to explain.”

  “Explain?” Andy shook his head and snickered bitterly. “It’s too late.”

  “Maybe, but it wasn’t entirely my fault. Part of it was your uncle’s. There were days when he hit me so hard I lost consciousness. I’d be on the floor for hours, bleeding and crying because I couldn’t get up.”

  “I’ve said it so many times now—you could have gone to the police.”