Toy Cemetery

by William W. Johnstone

  “You do have a court order authorizing the jailing of this minor child, do you not, chief?” Jim asked. “Signed by a district judge.”

  Chief Craig’s mouth dropped open. “I can damn sure get one.”

  “I read ’er her rights, chief,” a patrolman said. “Done it proper, too.”

  “By herself?” Jim asked.

  “Why, hell yes!”

  Jim smiled. “You cannot read a ten-year-old his rights, Ben. You read it to their parents, guardian, or appointed attorney. In the child’s presence.”

  Ben’s mouth opened and closed several times. “Well, I ain’t never ’rrested no ten-year-old ’fore.”

  “Did you question this child by herself, Ben?” Jim asked.

  “Why, ah ... yeah. I did.”

  Jim looked at Kelly. He winked, very slowly. “How did you get that mark on your face, Kelly?”

  Kelly was bright, very quick, and had watched enough TV to know something about the workings of the law.

  She pointed at Ben. “He hit me!”

  “Ah never done no such a thang!” the cop hollered.

  Father Pat smiled. Even Eric’s lips moved a bit.

  “Oh, yes, he did!” a chorus of voices rang out. Jenny, Ange, Carla, Ken, Robert, and Andy.

  Chief Craig glared at Ben. “You dumb son of a bitch!”

  “I didn’t do nuthin’!” Ben squalled. “Them kids is makin’ all that up.”

  “This just might slow things down for a couple of days,” Father Pat said. “Right, chief?”

  A red flush crept up the chiefs neck, coloring his face beet red. He visibly controlled himself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, priest. But I’ll tell you all this: None of you are leaving town. Not for any reason. Not unless I give the okay. And I ain’t likely to do that. You all think you’re so damned smart. But you all just may have worked your butts into a crack.”

  He whirled to face Jim and almost lost his balance, flailing his arms and wobbling his legs to maintain his stand on the edge of the porch. Kelly and the other kids laughed at his antics. The chiefs BP soared. He shouted at Jim, “I’ll see you in my office in ten minutes, Klein.”

  “I’ll sure be there.”

  Craig stomped down the steps. On the sidewalk, he turned to face those on the porch. “It don’t make no difference, now, anyway, folks. Either way it goes, you won’t be leaving town. None of you.”

  They stood in silence until all the cops had left. Ben was riding with Craig. They could hear him yelling at the cop as they pulled out.

  Piper broke the silence. “What have you got me into now, Jay?”

  “Piper ...”

  “Oh, don’t Piper, me!” she yelled at him. “Now I don’t care what that hick cop says, I’m taking Kelly and we’re leaving this horrible place.”

  “Don’t even try to do that, Mrs. Clute,” Jim said.

  “My name is not Mrs. Clute. It’s Patterson.”

  “Excuse me, Ms. Patterson. If you try to leave, then the chief will have an excuse to lock you both up. And he can get a judge to sign that order. But only if you try to leave.”

  Jim looked at his watch. “I imagine I shall be unemployed ... in a manner of speaking ... in about ten minutes. I’ll be back as quickly as I can. Please, don’t any of you leave.” He walked back to his unit and drove away.

  “I’ll make some coffee,” Deva said, pushing past Jay and entering the house.

  “What an interesting afternoon,” Father Pat said from his seat on the porch.

  Jay looked at his daughter, standing close to her mother. “I have a lot of questions for you, Kelly. But let’s talk inside the house, everybody, shall we?”

  On the front porch of the house next door, Old Man Milton rocked and laughed, the rocking chair squeaking back and forth. “You asshole!” he yelled at Jay.

  * * *

  “A ten-year-old girl throws an axe and kills a nearly grown man. I could have had the perfect subject for tonight’s mass, but a stupid cop messes it all up. Instead of separating the kids, making them easier to handle, now they’re all bunched up at Cary’s place.”

  The spokesman rose to his feet and paced the windowless room.

  The others sat in silence.

  “Now the priest is directly involved. On top of everything else, one of the nation’s top models is now here in town. In a rented car. What started out as a rather minor, easy to handle matter, has mushroomed.”

  “I did some checking,” one of the seated men said. “The car was rented using a credit card. We have someone take the car, drop it back at the airport in St. Louis and stick the keys in a fast check-in box. No one has to be seen doing it.”

  “That’s good,” the spokesman said. “That’s very good on your part. See that it’s done . . . tonight.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Today is Thursday. I’ll reschedule the mass for tomorrow night. But instead of only the high priests attending, I shall ask for full attendance.” He pointed a finger at a seated man. “You take care of that.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And you,” he said, looking at yet another man, “will see to it that none of those at Cary’s place leave this area.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The rebellious toys have to be destroyed.”

  That caused a low murmuring among those seated. The spokesman held up a hand, silencing the room. “I know it’s dangerous. But it has to be. I, personally, will see to that. Now leave.”

  When the room had emptied, the lights out, a tiny figure slid down a cord to the floor. He ran across the carpet, climbed up a bookcase, and jumped on the doorknob. Leaning to the left, he turned the doorknob and kicked out with his tiny legs.

  He had to repeat the procedure several times before he got it right: his legs striking the door frame at the same time his slight weight turned the doorknob.

  He ran out into the dusk. He had a long way to go, and it would be dangerous. A hawk or owl looking for food could seize him. A dog or cat might want to play with the tiny creature and accidentally kill him. A rat could destroy him.

  But he had to face the risks.

  He had no choice.

  * * *

  Kelly told her story first. Then Jenny spoke for a few moments. Then Jay and Deva brought everybody up to date on what had taken place out at the old Clute house. Jim returned, and Amy came in just a few minutes behind him. Jay did not say anything about the afternoon’s tete-a-tete he had shared with Amy.

  Piper absorbed it all without changing expression.

  Then she started giggling. Her giggling changed to hysterical laughter. She laughed so hard she was crying, and her mascara ran down her cheeks. Finally, she wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and leaned back in her chair.

  “Oh, Jay,” she chuckled. “I haven’t laughed like that in I don’t know when. I should have known; should have guessed when you called, that you were up to your old tricks.”

  The kids, the adults, stood and sat around the room, staring at her. Not one of them even so much as smiled.

  “I won’t even be angry at you, Jay. The laugh was worth the trip.”

  “It is not a joke, Ms. Patterson,” Father Pat said.

  Piper looked at the blind priest. “Enough is enough, Father. The joke was a good one. I had a good laugh. But let’s don’t belabor the humor.”

  “I can assure you, Ms. Patterson,” Father Pat said, “that there is no humor involved in any of this.”

  “That boy is dead, Mother,” Kelly said. “And I’m the one who killed him.”

  Piper’s face reddened. “All right, Kelly! The joke is over. Killing someone is not a bit humorous.”

  “No, it isn’t, Mother. Did you know that brains are gray?”

  Before anyone could reply to that, Kelly ran from the room. She made it as far as the kitchen before getting sick. The sounds of her retching drifted to the living room.

  “Help me to her, Eric.” Father Pat rose from his seat. “The child
is going to need a lot of help getting over this trauma.”

  The big man helped his friend to the kitchen. The sounds of his talking to Kelly were muted.

  Piper ran nervous fingers through her long blond hair. Her eyes darted from person to person, finally settling on Jim Klein. “You’re a police officer?”

  “Yes, but no longer a member of the Victory P.D.”

  “You’re from the state police?” Deva said.

  “Yes. Your letter was not the first we’d received about the goings-on here in this town. But I’m sorry to say the others were, for the most part, ignored.”

  “You’re a trooper?” Jay asked.

  “Yes.”

  Storm clouds had been gathering over the area. The clouds broke open and began dumping torrents of rain on the town of Victory. The night came suddenly and too quickly, as dusk was pushed into full darkness abruptly.

  Lightning lashed and licked; booming, rolling peals of thunder rattled the windows.

  “Are you . . . going to arrest my daughter?” Piper asked.

  “Don’t be silly. The girl defended herself against attack. There won’t be any charges.”

  “Then ...” Piper cleared her throat. “Exactly what are you doing in Victory?”

  “Investigating the disappearance of several people and also the possibility of devil worship and murder.”

  “Are you telling me that you actually believe this hogwash about toys coming alive?” Piper’s voice was shrill above the pounding and hammering of the violent storm.

  “It’s certainly a possibility,” the trooper told her.

  “What branch of the state police are you with?” Jay asked.

  “Criminal Investigations Division. I’m a lieutenant.”

  “You look awfully young,” Deva said.

  “I’m twenty-eight.”

  “That isn’t very old,” Amy said.

  “Thank you. Why are you over here?”

  “Because I’m scared to stay at home any longer. My father is . . . behaving strangely.”

  “Strangely, how?”

  “Well, ever since Jay got to town, he’s been very uptight, very nervous. He’s getting phone calls at all hours of the night. And right after you left the station house, my dad drove up. I followed him.”

  “Why would you do that?” Jim questioned.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” the young woman said.

  “All right,” Jim said with a smile. “Forget I asked. When you wish to speak the truth, let me know.”

  “Did Chief Craig fire you?” Jay asked.

  “Yes. I’m surprised I lasted as long as I did. I think they knew who I was from the outset.”

  Piper’s face had turned chalk white, and her hands were trembling.

  “Would you like to lie down, Piper?” Jay asked.

  “I want to leave!”

  “You can’t do that, Ms. Patterson,” the trooper stated. “None of you can, so please accept that.”

  She flared, standing up and facing the trooper. “Let me ask you this, and bear in mind that I have no intention of leaving without Kelly. But if I wanted to, what charges could your chief bring against me?”

  “Craig has an ongoing investigation. A homicide in which a minor is involved. You are the child’s mother. A judge might find it highly suspicious if you suddenly left. A bench warrant might be issued for your arrest. And once Craig has you in his jail, any of you, you will not leave alive.”

  “That is preposterous!”

  “But true.”

  Kelly entered the room, followed by Father Pat and Eric. She went to her mother and put her arms around the woman. “Don’t leave us, Mother, please?”

  “I won’t leave you, baby.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes. I promise.”

  “I want some answers,” Jay said. “And right now.”

  “I wish I had some to give you,” Jim said. “I have a lot of unanswered questions myself.”

  “Someone among us is holding back.” Jay looked around the room. His eyes settled on Father Pat.

  “Are you staring at me, Mr. Clute?” the priest asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I might be able to shed some light on whatever it is puzzling you. Try me.”

  Jay opened his mouth. Where to begin? “This town . . . what’s wrong with it?”

  “It’s evil.”

  “And it just got that way?”

  The priest pulled a battered old pipe out of his pocket and a pouch of tobacco out of another. He filled the pipe and lit it, puffing it to his satisfaction. “Oh, no. Of course not. The town has been evil since its inception. But the evil is now out of control.”

  “Why?”

  “Mr. Clute, evil cannot exist by itself. It must be fed. Nurtured. But the evil in this town is running out of fuel.”

  “I ... don’t understand.”

  Father Pat puffed and said, “As far as I’ve been able to determine, the town began feeding on itself some years ago. That was fine, as far as evil is fine, as long as it lasted – ”

  “Now wait a minute,” Jim interrupted. “You’re getting ahead of things. What do you mean, it was feeding on itself?”

  Father Pat smiled. “I get some very strange vibes from you, young man. I think that you are much more than your average run-of-the-mill police officer.”

  “My major was in criminology, my minor, my real love, in parapsychology.”

  “Ah-hah! I told you, Eric.”

  The big man did not change expression.

  “He hates it when I’m right,” the priest said.

  “You still didn’t answer my question.”

  “And I have one, too,” Jay said. “What did you mean, out on the porch, when you told Chief Craig that this might slow things down for a couple of days?”

  “Somebody mentioned something about coffee,” Father Pat said. “Is it made yet?”

  “Yes.” Deva looked at Jay. “I found the new pot you bought.”

  Jay blinked. “I didn’t buy any coffeepot.”

  “Well, there’s a big urn sitting in the kitchen!”

  “Your wrist looks funny, Daddy,” Kelly pointed out. “All white where you wear your watch.”

  Jay lifted his arm. His watch was gone.

  “I had it on when I drove up here! I know I didn’t take it off.”

  “Where is the bathroom, Jay?” Piper asked.

  “Two down that hall,” he said, pointing, “and two upstairs. You want me to get your luggage out of the car?”

  “Please.”

  Jay stepped out on the porch after picking up an umbrella from the stand by the mirrored coat and hat rack in the foyer. The car was gone.

  He stepped back inside. “Now her damn car is gone!”

  “That’s it!” Jim said, walking to the phone and punching out a series of numbers. He listened for a moment, thanked the operator, and slowly replaced the phone into its cradle. He turned to face the room of people. Before he could open his mouth, the priest spoke.

  “You really don’t believe this violent storm just suddenly whipped up out of a clear blue sky, do you? Any of you?”

  No one said anything because no one knew what the priest was talking about.

  “The phones are out of order, aren’t they, Jim?” Father Pat asked.

  “How did you – Yes. We have local service, though.”

  “How nice of them to give us that,” the priest said with a smile.

  “So far,” Eric said, “they are following a very predictable pattern, Pat.”

  “Yes. But that will change. Our old foe is playing with us. Letting us know it’s still all just a game.”

  “What old foe?” Piper asked, her trip to the bathroom forgotten.

  “I don’t know about that, Pat,” the rough-looking man said softly. “The blood is tainted in this town. It’s weak. And he may be wearying of this community.”

  “He?” Jay demanded. “He who?”

  “You just
might be right, Eric.” Father Pat relit his pipe. “They certainly haven’t shown much imagination to date.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Amy blurted. “The blood is weak? Who’s he?”

  Father Pat swung his sightless eyes toward the young woman. “Why, the devil, my dear.”

  Piper fainted, sliding out of her chair to hit the floor with a thump.

  13

  Piper’s face was bathed with cold wet cloths, and then she was packed off to a bedroom to rest.

  “You two act as though this is just . . . well, routine stuff,” Jim spoke to Father Pat and Eric.

  “It’s what we do, son,” the priest told him. “It’s our job.”

  “Are you an exorcist?” Andy asked. “Like in the books and movies?”

  “I have acted on the bishop’s orders, yes, son.”

  “How can you exorcise a whole town?” Jay asked.

  “Obviously, one cannot. But just the presence of God’s representative can sometimes be enough to make a difference.”

  “But can you help the little people?” Jenny asked him.

  “I can ... possibly help them to attain final peace,” Father Pat said carefully. “But there can be no guarantees. Not in any of this.”

  The storm had abated; now only a very soft rain fell. The sounds of Milton’s rocking chair squeak-squeaking drifted to those in the Clute house.

  “Doesn’t he ever stop?” Amy asked.

  “He has no more control over his actions than do most of the people in this town,” Father Pat told her.

  Piper entered the room. She had changed into jeans, tennis shoes, and sweat shirt. She had regained her color and composure. She sat down on the arm of a couch. “It appears to me, that if we’re all in such danger of losing our . . . souls, lives, any risk involved in just getting away from this place would be slight when compared to the alternatives.”

  “I agree,” Jay said.

  Deva glanced at him, but said nothing.

  “Now you see why the predictability, Eric,” Father Pat murmured.

  “Possibly.”

  “Would you explain that, Father?” Piper asked.

  “Call it a play off of the terrorist’s philosophy. Kill or kidnap one in order to frighten thousands. Don’t you see?”

  “But we can leave and alert the authorities!” Amy spoke. “Then they can come in here and everything will be all right.”