When Gerhart’s father was shipped to Germany to serve out his time with the U.S. Army, he met a pretty German girl who, in spite of a policy of ‘No Fraternization with the Natives,’,ultimately became his wife and returned with him to the states when he was discharged from the Army. So when Gerhart was a boy, his mother insisted on speaking her native tongue one day a week. He hadn’t thought much of the idea at the time but when high school came around and he was able to ace his German classes, it made more sense. His mother still used a few German words when the family was together, mainly because there were some phrases that are more concise in German than in English. Although Gerhart still understood German perfectly, he seldom had occasion to use it. But when he read the sloppy translation from Japanese into English, he had a sudden flash of insight and knew that Von Hexenbrut wasn’t the name of a German aristocrat. Like the printer instructions, the phrase was grammatically incorrect, but understandable.
It meant “From the witches’ coven.”
So Gerhart had once more called Lt. Orselli. Orselli called back two days later with some interesting information.
“It gets sort of complicated,” Orselli said, “but it goes something like this. A high school kid got involved with a bunch of so-called witches and his folks found out about it. They called us and we looked into it. There wasn’t really much we could do, freedom of religion and all, but we warned the group against taking minors. In the process of investigating, we got the names of a lot of people who were involved. I made a few calls and turned up a girl who knew your Joseph Lucas. She says she would be glad to talk to you, but she claims she didn’t know him very well and doesn’t think she can give you much help. You want her number?”
“Is a frog’s asshole watertight?” Gerhart asked.
Gerhart decided to drive down and talk to her face to face. He preferred to do his interviews in person—it’s hard to read body language over the telephone.
The girl’s apartment was in Largo. Gerhart spent almost half an hour making wrong turns before pulling to the curb in front of an old two-story house. He walked up to the second floor and knocked on the door.
Suzy Pilsberry was evidently not related to her namesake on television. She was almost as tall as Gerhart but weighed no more than ninety pounds. He figured he could close a hand around her waist. She greeted him with a brilliant smile and led him into her living room. She parked him on a lopsided but clean couch that stood against one wall in a sparsely furnished room. Suzy sat down on a wooden rocking chair next to a fireplace. Then she leaned forward, spread her hands wide and raised her eyebrows.
“So, what can I tell you about Mr. Lucas, Chief Kable? I understand he died in your town.”
“That’s right. We haven’t been able to find out much about him. How well did you know him?”
“Not well at all. See, when I first got interested in witchcraft, I sniffed around and got hooked up with a coven in New Port Richey. I didn’t know what to expect because there are almost as many forms of witchcraft as there are witches. I was interested in the religious aspect of witchcraft, not in the devil worship thing. Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thanks. So, what happened?”
“I should have stayed away from that bunch.”
“Why?”
“They were into the deep shit. Black masses, stuff like that. I didn’t know that, at the time. The first few meetings I went to were pretty bland. Now that I think about it, maybe they were some sort of indoctrination for me and the other two initiates. Then, about six weeks into it, they held a meeting in the woods on a Saturday night. You sure you don’t want something to drink? I’m kind of thirsty.”
“If you’re having something, sure.”
Suzy got up and went into the kitchen. “Anyway,” she said in a louder voice, “when we got to this clearing, somebody had already built a fire. They handed out black robes and told us to get undressed and put the robes on. Well, I wasn’t about to get naked with a bunch of strangers, so I went into the bushes and pulled the thing on over my clothes. When I got back, most of them were already marching around the fire and chanting. One of them pulled me into the circle and we kept that up for a while.
“After a few minutes, the chanting got louder and more frantic. All of a sudden, this guy, I guess he was the head witch, comes out of the woods carrying a box. He held it above his head and the rest of them stopped marching around and held their hands up and went on with the mumbo-jumbo. Then he opened the box and took out a black cat. At first I thought it was dead, but then I realized it must have been drugged. The poor thing just sort of hung in his hands with its tongue sticking out. Every so often it would twitch a little.
“Then this head witch stepped into the center of the circle next to the fire, held the cat up with both hands and took over the chanting. All of a sudden he whipped out a big knife and cut the cat’s throat. One of the other witches ran over and held a big bowl under the cat and caught the blood. As soon as the cat quit dripping, the head witch held the cat up over the fire with both hands. There was this big flash of light and the cat just sort of disappeared into thin air. Then they passed the bowl around and everybody took a sip of the cat’s blood. Everybody but me. I ran into the woods and barfed. It was awful!”
Suzy had returned to the living room during her explanation and handed Gerhart a glass of iced tea. He took a swallow. “Then what happened?”
“Well, after I got my breath, I pulled off the robe and started for my car. I had to pass the fire on the way. Some of the witches were dancing around naked and a lot of them were laying on the ground screwing. I’m not a prude, but I’m not into group sex with strangers. I got in my car and split. And I didn’t go to any more of their meetings.”
“Was Joseph Lucas at that meeting?”
“Oh. I guess I forgot to tell you. He was the head witch that snuffed the cat and made it disappear.”
When Gerhart returned to Trinidad late that evening, there was a message for him to call Archie Maybury at the motel. Maybury answered on the first ring.
“Chief, Maurice and Claudette Rouen got in this afternoon. They’re in the next room. We’ve talked it over and want to get together with you. When’s a good time?”
“How about now?”
“Suits me. Have you had dinner?”
“Not yet.”
“I haven’t eaten at Swansen’s, yet. How’s the food?”
“Mediocre.”
“I can do mediocre. How about a half hour? I need a shower.”
Gerhart sat in a booth at the rear of the restaurant as Maybury arrived accompanied by a man and a woman. The man was somewhat shorter and stockier than Maybury while the woman looked like everyone’s idea of the girl next door. Maybury spotted Gerhart and led his friends through the restaurant to the booth. Maybury sat next to Kable and the couple slid in opposite them.
“Chief Kable, Maurice and Claudette Rouen. Let’s eat. I’m starved.”
After the waitress brought coffee and took their order Maurice leaned across the table toward Gerhart. “There’s something very strong in your mall, Chief, but I think I know how to get rid of it.”
He spoke excellent English with a French accent. Gerhart wondered if he and his wife were from Quebec, or, perhaps, Louisiana.
“What do you mean, strong?” Gerhart asked.
“Psychic energy. We went down there this afternoon when Claud and I got in, and we were able to take some readings after Archie worked on one of the meters a little. I’ve never seen so much energy in one place in my life. It’s at least 100 times as much as the highest we’ve ever recorded.” He stopped to take a sip of his coffee.
“I take it that’s not good,” Gerhart said.
“Frankly, Chief, it scares the hell out of me.”
“But you can get rid of it?”
“I think so. Do you know of some place where we can borrow or rent a big welding generator?”
Gerhart thought for a moment. “Yea
h. Andros probably has one out at the boatyard. I’m sure he’ll let us borrow it, if I talk nice. What do you need to weld?”
“Oh, we’re not welding anything. I’ll explain that in a minute. Archie tells me you went to Tampa to talk to somebody today. Did you find out anything?”
The waitress arrived with their orders. After she moved away, Gerhart explained about Suzy Pilsberry and the witches. When he finished, Maurice, Claudette and Archie looked at each other with raised eyebrows. Claudette was the first to speak.
“She said the cat just disappeared?
“That’s right. Poof, more or less. He must have been a pretty good magician. Suzy didn’t strike me as the type to be easily fooled.”
Claudette turned to Maurice. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Probably,” he answered. “What about you?” he asked Maybury.
Maybury nodded silently and stuffed the last of his meatloaf into his mouth.
“What’s going on?” Gerhart asked.
Claudette swallowed and looked across the table at Gerhart. “If we’re right, we may have a genesis here.”
“What’s a genesis?” Gerhart wanted to know.
“A first time haunting,” Archie said around the meatloaf. “Every event we’ve investigated up until now had to do with something that took place in the past. This will be a first for us.”
“That’s all very interesting but what the hell is going on, anyway? Do you know?”
“We’re afraid your guy is…was something more than a magician,” Maurice said. “Quite a bit more, in fact. With what you’ve just told us, we think he tried to summon up something he obviously couldn’t control.”
“I don’t follow you,” Gerhart said with a frown.
The trio looked at each other.
“A demon,” Claudette said. “We think he tried to summon a demon.”
Gerhart’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious!”
“I’m afraid we are,” she said quietly. “The bad news is that we think he succeeded.”
Chapter Fifteen
October 24, 2004
Gerhart looked at his watch again. It was thirteen minutes past midnight. The last time he had looked at it was ten minutes past midnight. Just after he and the crew arrived the moon disappeared behind a bank of clouds and the wind shifted to blow directly off the gulf, bringing salt spray and the smell of deep-water creatures into the mall through the open door. Archie Maybury worked in one corner of the entryway, attaching some sort of fixture to one of the steel columns that held up the roof. Maurice sat on a bench and twisted the dials on one of his meters while Claudette looked over his shoulder. Finally Maybury stood and walked back to the rest of the group.
“I think I’m ready to go, Maurice. Is the monitor tuned in?”
“Yeah. Chief Kable, you can tell your friend to start the generator.”
“Wait a minute, Maurice,” Gerhart said. “Tell me how this is supposed to work. Just so I know.”
Maurice nodded. “We’ve had some success with doing this before on a smaller scale. Basically, we’re going to create a magnetic field in this part of the mall. As Archie said, psychic energy is electricity. Electricity generates a magnetic field. We’re going to develop a magnetic field that opposes the psychic energy. A bar magnet, for instance, has a north and south pole. If you take two magnets that are the same, the north pole of one will attract the south pole of the other. But if you try to touch both north poles together, the magnets will repel each other. That is, one will push the other away. We’ve been able to negate psychic energy by generating a magnetic field that is opposed to the field of the psychic energy. Blow it away, if you will.”
Gerhart thought for a moment. “Okay, but what does this have to do with welding?”
“The only way I can think of to generate a magnetic field as powerful as we need here is by welding. We’ve attached the ground electrode of the welder to that column on the far side of the entry. Archie made a clamp attachment for the column on this side so he won’t have to weld on the building itself. The electricity that powers the welder must pass through the entire steel structure of the entry and that will generate a huge magnetic field. With all the energy present here, the little generator we normally use wouldn’t even start to do the job.” When Gerhart nodded, Maurice turned to Archie. “Go ahead, Arch, do your thing.”
Gerhart turned and trotted outside to where Andros waited beside his gasoline-powered generator. “Fire it up, Andros. We’re ready to give it a shot.”
Andros pushed the starter button and the industrial engine roared to life. Gerhart went back inside the mall to stand next to Maurice and Claudette.
“Don’t look at the welding arc,” Maurice told Gerhart. “It can cause a flash burn in your eyes. Sort of like looking directly into the sun.”
As he finished speaking, Archie struck an arc and started to run a quarter inch bead down the dummy bracket that was clamped to the building column. The engine outside slowed for a moment as the generator called for power. Then the governor took over and revved up the industrial six cylinder. The air in the mall seemed to hum with energy as Archie manipulated the welding stick. It felt to Gerhart as if the hair on his neck and arms was standing straight up.
A blast of wind from the gulf roared through the mall with an ear splitting shriek. The air around the steel framework of the building glowed blue, then red, then white and back to blue and the sound of the wind increased. Gerhart’s body felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. He found it hard to suck air into his lungs. He looked around at the others. Archie was still bent over his work although he seemed hard pressed to keep going. Maurice dropped to his knees but still watched the dials on his machine. Claudette was nowhere in sight.
Gerhart looked rapidly about. Fireballs the size of pumpkins fell from the ceiling to land and explode in a fury of flame on the tile floor. Archie stopped work as one of the fireballs struck next to him. He dropped the welding stick and leaped back, brushing at his trouser leg.
Maurice shouted, “Arch! Are you all right?”
“Yeah. We’ve got it on the run!”
Archie picked up the stick and went back to welding just as the last fireball blew itself out. Maurice came back to Gerhart, grinning. “I think it’s working. Did you see that?” In the eerie blue-white glow of the welding stick he looked utterly mad. Gerhart stepped back a pace.
Everything fell silent except for the crackling of Archie’s welding rod. Even the sound of the generator outside seemed to diminish and the pounding surf was no longer heard. It was like the lull when the eye of a hurricane passed through.
Everyone held his breath.
An unearthly howl suddenly filled the air and the entryway lit up with a sick, purple glow that overpowered the light from the welder. Archie dropped the stick and ran screaming from the building. Maurice ran to where Archie had been working, grabbed the stick and took up where his partner had left off. Gerhart experienced the uncanny feeling of being watched. Slowly he raised his eyes to the ceiling.
Twenty feet above his head a pair of eyes stared back at him. They glowed with a scarlet flame that waxed and waned in time to the terrible howl that filled the mall and spilled out into the night. It was all he could do to stand his ground.
“Maurice, look!” Gerhart yelled as he pointed up at the burning eyes.
Maurice stopped welding and turned his head in Gerhart’s direction. His gaze followed Gerhart’s pointing finger. “Good Lord,” he breathed. He stared at the apparition for a moment then wheeled about and frantically struck another arc. The air in the mall hummed once more below the level of the continuous howling.
Although Gerhart didn’t believe that the howling could get any louder, it did. The sound threatened to crack his skull. He put his hands over his ears and wondered how Maurice could keep working under such conditions. Claudette appeared before Gerhart. She raised some sort of long stick and pointed it at the eyes. A bolt of blue-whi
te lightning shot from the end of the stick and struck directly between those terrible, glowing orbs. Gerhart felt a surge of energy pick him up and throw him toward the door like a kid would toss a Frisbee. He fell on his back and cracked his head on the floor. Claudette landed on top of him and knocked the air from his lungs.
The shrieking stopped.
The silence that followed was worse than the racket that went before. Claudette wriggled off of him and got to her knees.
“Are you all right, Chief?” she asked.
“Yeah. Where’s Maurice?”
“Right behind you,” Maurice answered. “We all got blown over together. Holy shit! I’ve never experienced anything even remotely like that. And we’ve been doing this for twelve years!”
Maurice suddenly remembered Archie. He got quickly to his feet and ran out the door, followed closely by Claudette. Gerhart was left sitting on the floor in the total silence. He stood and walked outside.
Archie, Maurice and Claudette stood around a baffled Andros. “It’s never done this before,” Andros said. “The engine just lugged way down and quit. Like that.” He snapped his fingers for emphasis.
“It’s okay, Andros,” Maurice said. “If there’s any damage we’ll pay for it. I think it just overloaded itself momentarily.” He looked up at Gerhart. “I’ll be right back.”
Maurice jogged into the mall and was gone some four or five minutes. He returned, waving the meter in the air. “It worked,” he said. “The meter didn’t register anything this time.”
The group grinned at each other in the darkness while a puzzled Andros looked from one to the other and wondered what the hell was going on.
Hardly anybody was aware of what had taken place at the mall the night they zapped the demon. That was the way Archie referred to the event. Zapping the demon. The mall opened up the next morning as if nothing had happened and Trinidad carried on as usual. Maurice and the crew stayed for two days and monitored the mall for paranormal activity, but it was in vain. The headset stayed silent and the needles of the meters pointed endlessly to zero. At the end of the second day, Gerhart and the spookhunters stood in a group in the mall parking lot and smiled at each other.
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