The man who had seemed worldly and debonair at the Brown Derby was now like a beast, his thighs smacking the edge of the tabletop as he pounded against her. Almost as soon as the thought of his animal behavior entered her mind, she saw his skin change, slowly darkening to a reptilian green. When he ripped her blouse open, she saw claws at the ends of his fingers; they tore at her brassiere, and when he bent forward to flick his tongue across her nipples, she saw that it was forked. At once, she knew she was hallucinating, knowing it with the same certainty she had during lucid dreams. She had the strange sensation of knowing none of these bizarre things were really happening, but feeling them happen nonetheless. It gave her the most wicked joy she had never known, and she reveled it. By the time she realized that the buzz in her ears had transformed into excited whispers, she was too far gone to care, and so it was without panic that she could glance to the left and right and see shadowy figures about the room, their forms hidden as they watched the show she was putting on. She wanted nothing more than to please them and her lover, the thought of which took her over the edge.
As her body convulsed with the force of her orgasm, she saw white, a light that filled the room and erased her shadowy audience and even the strange, reptilian face of Taylor Thompson. Then it began to diminish, receding like the tide, only it gathered in upon her; it dropped from the ceiling and rose from the floor, coming to her from all sides with a strange, impossible weight. She felt a new penetration—one that was not physical at all. The light came into her and was part of her for a moment; she felt complete serenity, the absence of all desire. And then she began to feel the light withdraw, up from her toes, down from head, gathering and building at her loins for just a moment with an even greater intensity as she felt her lover begin to pull away.
For a few seconds, she could see the room as it was again, could feel the table underneath her, could hear her own heavy breathing along with Taylor’s. His face was just above hers, and it was the same handsome face he had always had. Gone were the reptilian features; the only changes in him were the beads of sweat on his forehead and the disheveled mess she had made of his previously perfect hair. For a moment, she saw him smile at her with a blend of curiosity and cruelty, and then felt the room grow dark as she tumbled into unconsciousness, sinking down into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter Seven
The hospital corridor’s antiseptic smell had made Marie feel on edge when she had first taken a chair outside the examination room. It was unpleasant, but it forced her mind to stay exactly on why she was there. Even if she had not been consumed with worry, the acrid smells kept her mind from wandering as she sat and worried about Elise.
She had gone straight home after leaving Colin Krebs in front of the Chinese Theater, alternately convincing herself that Krebs’ story was true and that he was a complete lunatic. The one thought she kept coming back to, though, was that Elise was safe. The predator who had left her in such a state on Friday night—be he a demon from hell or garden variety Hollywood lothario—was not a danger to her friend; it was impossible for him to find Elise again.
Back at home, she had fed Murphy and put the kettle on, telling herself she would sit in her favorite chair by the front window and read into the evening. It would be perfect, she knew, and when the streetlight came on, she would be able to look out and watch the fine raindrops forming a misty curtain in front of its yellow glow. She turned the burner off twice, though, before the water boiled—once when she convinced herself that going to the movies was more in order if she wanted to get the afternoon’s craziness out of her head. The second time she cursed under her breath and finally admitted to herself that she was still deeply troubled about Elise, especially in light of Colin Krebs’s story.
The phone was on the wall just inside the kitchen, and she stood with the receiver in her hand, listening to the nagging, unanswered ringing on the line while her cat did laps around her and tickled her calves with his tail. “Damn it,” she said when she’d finally had enough and dropped the receiver back in its cradle. Without thinking about it, she scooped Murphy into her arms and hugged him for a moment. She let his purr vibrate against her wrist before she set him down and went to the front closet, where she pulled her coat from its hanger and slipped back into her shoes. Her purse was in its usual place atop the bookcase where she kept all her Weird Tales; it rested next to the framed photo of her late husband, the only one she let herself keep out. She had regarded his smile for a moment, telling herself she should find some strength in it before heading out the door.
Elise’s house had been dark when she pulled up to it, and her knocking brought no answer. To her surprise the knob turned when she twisted it, so she opened the door slowly and stepped inside. “Elise?” she called out. There was no reply. “Sweetie, it’s me,” she said and switched on the lights. Elise’s purse was on the coffee table where she always left it. Forcing back her panic, Marie pulled an umbrella from the stand beside the door and held it in front of her like a sword as she moved into the hallway that led to Elise’s bedroom. A lot of good the umbrella would do, she thought. Still, it felt good to have something to fend off an attacker.
The umbrella dropped to the floor the second she turned the lights on in Elise’s room. It was Friday night all over again. Elise lay naked on her bed with her eyes open, the sheets and blankets in a tangle around her and her clothes scattered on the floor. Marie ran to the bedside, feeling for a pulse, and whispering, “Oh God, oh God, oh God” until she found it. Not knowing what else to do, she slapped Elise lightly across the cheeks. She blinked but gave no other indication that she was conscious. “Elise!” she called. “Elise! Damn it!” There was no response. In her panic, she latched onto the idea that Elise should be dressed, as though her nudity was somehow the root of her problem. She turned from the bed and began digging through Elise’s clothes, looking for her underwear. “Why did you have to let him back in?” she said, though she knew Elise would not answer. “And how did the son of a bitch find you?” She stomped her foot in impotent rage and then gave up on getting Elise dressed, storming out of the room to call for an ambulance.
She had begun second-guessing herself immediately. Even now, as she sat outside the examining room, she wondered if she had done the right thing. Elise might have come around again, might have been just as fine as she’d been on Sunday morning when they had gone to Mass together. When she thought of how limp Elise’s body had been when the ambulance workers lifted her, though, and of how quickly Elise had been seen once they arrived at the hospital, Marie knew that the situation was serious and that no amount of bedside vigilance would have helped.
Deep in thought, she jumped in her seat when the door opened and the doctor came into the corridor. He was in his fifties with hair going gray and bushy eyebrows sprouting over the rims of his glasses. He looked at Marie over the medical chart in his hand. “You brought Miss Lockwood in?”
“Yes,” Marie said, standing up to face him.
“Are you a relative, or…?”
“Just a friend. Her family’s all in Nebraska, I think.”
He nodded and looked at her a bit uneasily. His expression shifted to one of resignation as he said, “Could you come down to my office for a minute?”
“Yes, of course,” Marie said. The doctor turned and walked along the tiled corridor, not looking back to see if she followed. Quickly falling into step, Marie said, “Is she going to be all right? Do you know what’s—”
He cut her off. “Please. We’ll discuss it in private.”
Marie glanced behind her at the examining room where Elise still waited and followed the doctor around a corner and through a door marked “Dr. Danforth.” The door led to a small office where several framed degrees and certificates hung on paneled walls. The doctor sat behind a cluttered desk and indicated that Marie should take the chair facing him.
“I really shouldn’t be discussing this with anyone who’s not an immediate relative,” he began. “
But…” He set the chart down and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “I guess I have more questions than answers at this point, so I don’t suppose it will hurt, as long as you’ll promise to do what you can to get in touch with the family.”
“Of course,” Marie said.
“You told the nurse that this condition started over the weekend?”
“Yes. We were at a party.” From the moment Marie had called for an ambulance, she had been trying to decide just how much she should share about what had happened with Elise. It was beyond the point of avoiding embarrassment over Elise’s dalliance with the man, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything about what Colin Krebs had told her about Elise’s lover. The whole thing was absurd anyway, Marie told herself as she continued. “She went with a man, someone she’d never met. I don’t know if he gave her drugs or…” She shrugged. “I just don’t know anything. I found her in the nude, and I assume they’d been intimate. She was in a daze, but she could stand and walk if I helped her. She came out of it soon after I got her on her feet.”
“And since then?”
“I saw her Sunday morning. We went to church together, and she was fine. Then nothing till I went to check on her this evening. I had tried to call her Sunday afternoon and a few times today. No answer, so I went over and found her. Is she still the same way?”
He nodded. “I would say she’s far less responsive than the state you describe her in on Friday. You know of no history of epilepsy or any mental or emotional conditions?”
Alarmed, Marie said, “No. Nothing like that at all.”
“Perhaps her family could shed some light?”
“Of course. I’ll try to contact them tomorrow.” She saw that the doctor was moving to get up from his seat, as if to dismiss her, and she felt a surge of adrenaline, angry that he might try to brush her off without saying more. “Do you think this man could have done something to her? If he came back yesterday, or today?”
The doctor hesitated a moment, then raised his hands, palms upward in a gesture of futility. “I can’t say. We’ve taken urine and blood and will do tests, but there’s no outward sign that she’s been drugged. No needle marks of any kind.” He glanced again at Elise’s chart. “Pupils are responsive. She doesn’t seem intoxicated. I’m sorry to say this, but the problem appears to be more mental or emotional.”
“So what are you going to do with her?”
“Keep her for observation for now. If she snaps out of it the way you say she did before, then we’ll see that she gets in to see her regular physician. Perhaps he can diagnose the problem.”
“And if she doesn’t snap out of it?” Marie asked, trying to keep fear and anger out of her voice. She wanted Doctor Danforth to see her as rational and dependable, someone who could be trusted with information she wasn’t really supposed to have.
Again, his hands went up, and he sighed. “If there’s no change, the most suitable place for her would be the state hospital at Camarillo.”
Marie sat up straight. “The mental hospital?”
“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but they could give her the care she needs.”
“And this man? The one who started all of this?” She thought about Colin Krebs and the role he had been assigned at the party. “There was something going on there in those bedrooms. I don’t think Elise was the only one left in that condition. Couldn’t you—”
Now the doctor held a hand up. He looked like a traffic cop ordering her to stop. “I’m sorry, Miss—?”
“Doyle.”
“Miss Doyle. There’s just no medical evidence of anything external in your friend’s case. There are no bruises, nor any sign of sexual trauma. If you feel there’s some foul play involved, you’re welcome to call the police. But from my end, well…my hands are tied.” He smiled at her, trying, Marie thought, to look compassionate. He was not successful. “Of course, if anything else turns up in our tests, we’ll be more than happy to assist the police. But for now…” Again he shook his head. Then he pushed his chair back and stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, now, I have other patients to attend to.”
“Of course,” Marie said. She stood and opened the door before the doctor could reach it first. “Thank you,” she added through tight lips and walked quickly into the corridor, her heels clicking sharply on the tiles. She did not wait for the doctor to follow her out. She knew she would not be allowed to see Elise again, so she headed for the exit without stopping by the examining room, her heart pounding from frustration.
In the hospital lobby, she pulled her coat tight around herself and moved toward the double doors, but then she stopped short. Across the room were two payphones next to the elevators. Anger and frustration transformed into determination as she reached into a pocket of her wallet and pulled out a dime. The doctors may not be able to do anything about Julian Piedmont and Colin Krebs or any of the others, she reasoned, but the police won’t be able to ignore a complaint. They would have to go up to the mansion and question Piedmont even though it might do no more than annoy the young mogul—which was better than nothing. Better yet, if she alerted the police, they would be more likely to believe the stories of any other young women who made the same mistakes as Elise.
She had the receiver to her ear and the coin in the slot when she stopped herself, hanging up and collecting her dime. For her complaint to be taken seriously, she would need to leave her name and submit to an interview. Keeping all mention of incubi and strange rituals out of the conversation would be easy enough, but what would that leave her? Elise had slept with a man at the party and had acted strangely afterward. Other women at the party had likely been left in a similar state, but she could not prove it without bringing Colin Krebs into the conversation, which would lead to more questions about how Marie knew him. The police would likely do nothing to investigate, especially against someone as powerful as Julian Piedmont. If she mentioned incubi or demons or rituals of any kind, she’d find herself sharing a room with Elise in Camarillo for sure.
Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes, and she wiped at them with the back of her hand. God damn it, she thought and reached back into her purse. A moment later, she had Colin Krebs’s business card in her hand and was dialing the number.
He answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Colin?”
“Who’s this?” came the guarded reply.
“Marie Doyle.”
His tone shifted immediately. “Marie!” he said. “I didn’t think you’d call back. Or not so soon. Did you talk to—”
“No,” she cut him off. “And I told you I wouldn’t. Look, I’m at the hospital right now. My friend Elise—from the other night?”
“Yes?” He sounded nervous again.
“I found her the same way tonight, only worse.”
“Oh God.”
His simpering angered her even more. “Oh God is right, you son of a bitch. What’s he been doing to her? How did he find her?”
“Marie, I swear. I promise I don’t know anything.”
An idea occurred to her for the first time, and she felt like an idiot for not having thought of it before. “You followed us, didn’t you? From the party?”
“No!” he protested desperately.
“Then someone else did.”
“If someone did, then I didn’t know about it. I swear.”
“Then how else do you explain it?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he insisted. “Couldn’t he have just…looked through her purse?”
“Jesus,” Marie whispered. It was the simplest answer yet, and she knew she had been a fool to think Elise would be safe in her little house so far from the Piedmont mansion. She sighed and said, “I should have done more to protect her.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Colin said.
He was trying to comfort her, she realized, and it made her angry. “Well you did know, Colin. You knew what would happen.”
“I didn’t!” he insisted.
“I don’t believe you, Colin. I don’t.” She took a deep breath. “Do you know what’s going to happen now? They’re sending her to Camarillo if she doesn’t come out of this. How do I get her better, Colin?”
There was only silence. Marie felt like she could hear Colin’s fear coming through the line.
“Does Piedmont know how to stop this? Is there something in that goddamned book?”
“Marie, please! You can’t bully Julian. If he knows, he won’t tell. And if you try to blackmail him…you’ll end up worse than your friend.”
Thinking still of going to the police, she said, “So he’s done that to others?”
“I can’t say. I won’t say. If you’re thinking of making me go to the police…Marie, I’ll kill myself first.”
“You’re pathetic,” she spit out and wished the man was in front of her so she could slap his face, or worse. “You can’t expect me to just let Elise go, can you? Do nothing?”
“You have to. The demon got to her. Whatever he did, whatever they do to the women, he did it a little too much, or too fast.”
“Are you saying they’re all going to end up like this? All of the women those…things sleep with?”
“I don’t know.” He seemed to be pleading with her not to ask such questions anymore.
“But what do you think? What do you think, Colin? Is it, or isn’t it?”
His answer was just above a whisper. “Probably.”
“Jesus,” Marie replied, a mixture of horror, disgust, and disbelief pushing her anger to the side. She felt defeated and looked at the floor for a moment, as she tried to ignore the sound of Colin’s breathing as it came over the line. Then she took a deep breath and stood up straight. “Colin,” she said calmly, “do you want to save yourself?”
The Devil You Know Page 8