by Jeffrey Ford
"I'll settle for any part of it," he said.
"Charlotte Barnes wasn't the first child killed," she said. "Two years ago there was a little boy down in Amityville who was found murdered too. You can check it out with the newspapers, but it wasn't on page one. In fact it wasn't even on page three. It was buried back in the paper, in a tiny little article. The kid's father was a Negro, so he was picked up and charged with the murder. I don't think he was guilty. It was at that time that I got the first note."
"About the murder?" asked Schell.
"Not the murder but where the body was going to be. I had just moved into this dump, after leaving the city. I was here no more than two weeks when, one night, I heard someone moving around outside the cabin. I can't tell you how scared I was. From then on, I slept with a butcher knife I stole from the kitchen at the nursing home.
"I asked my neighbor if she ever heard strange noises at night. She told me it was probably just deer-but deer don't leave bouquets of wildflowers on your doorstep now do they? Sometimes I'd find flowers, or little broken toys or pennies. It was bizarre. I couldn't go to the police because there were certain people from my past who I didn't want to find me. Then one morning, I found a piece of paper with a scrawled map on it and some words. The words made no sense, but the map had a crude picture of an old house, busted windows, door hanging off, and a three-digit number written with two backward numeral. Okay, just strange, right?
"About a week later, I was at the nursing home, having my lunch, and reading the paper. I was reading about this kid who'd been kidnapped in Amityville. They'd found his body in an abandoned house, and they gave the address. The three-digit number was the same as on the map that had been left."
Antony whistled.
"There's more," she said. "There was another kid earlier this year from out east on the island. Her parents were migrant workers, you know, for the potato farms out in Patchogue. Again, nothing much was made of it. I forget who took the rap for that one, but I knew where they were going to find her before they did."
"The same happened with the Barnes girl?" asked Schell.
"When Charlotte Barnes went missing, I knew it wasn't just an isolated thing. I might have been the only other person who knew besides the killer, because the cops sure weren't onto it. I'd been learning the cold reading from Lester, and I thought that maybe I could save the Barneses a little grief by showing them where their daughter was and test out my skills…"
"And make some money in the deal," said Schell.
"You, of all people, aren't going to give me the holier-than-thou line now are you?" she asked.
Schell shook his head.
"You can see where I'm living; I needed the dough, and they needed to find their girl. Lester taught me well, because I was able to convince both of them that I had the gift. When you gentlemen came on the scene, you presented me with a chance to lead them to the body and not have to be involved if there was an investigation."
"You buy that, Boss?" asked Antony.
"It's kind of far-fetched," said Schell.
"I don't care if you believe me or not. I've got nothing to hide," she said.
"Well, you're a better con than I gave you credit for," said Schell.
"That whole wifty act was part of my Lydia Hush routine," she said. "I don't want to go into what I was involved in when I was in the city, but I know how to string someone along."
"How do I know you're not lying to me now?" said Schell.
"Look, I admit I played them, but at the same time, I felt for those people and their kid."
"We have to figure out who's leaving you these messages," said Antony.
"That's the thing," she said. "There was a new one two nights ago. Let me get it." She turned around to the desk, leaned over to open the bottom drawer, and pulled out an envelope. Swiveling back around, she pulled a folded piece of paper from within it. As the paper came forth dried flower petals drifted to the floor. "This one's different from the others. It's just a map," she said, "and you can make out some of the road names, even though there are some letters backward and missing. It's also got a picture of a big house, but nothing about whether it's a boy or girl this time."
"May I?" asked Schell. He looked at it. "Antony," he said, "do you have a map in the car?"
"I'm on it, Boss," said the big man, already heading for the door.
"Now, gentlemen, I want you two to go outside for a minute while I get changed."
"You won't disappear on us again, will you?" asked Schell.
"Where am I going to go, up the chimney?"
Schell and I stepped outside and closed the door behind us. By then it was late afternoon, and it was starting to get cold. Leaves from the occasional oak tree fell here and there.
"I believe her," I said.
"I do too," said Schell. "For some reason it's hard not to."
"Obviously, whoever is leaving her the notes must know her," I said.
"Or know about her," said Schell. "She referred to her time in the city. I can imagine what that was about."
"What do you mean?"
"Forget it," he said.
A few minutes passed and then the door opened and she called to us. She had dressed in a gray skirt and jacket, a violet blouse, and simple, flat shoes. Her hair was pulled back, and she reminded me of a librarian. As we traipsed back into the cabin, Antony returned, and I held the door for him.
"Let's see your note," the big man said to Morgan, and she handed it to him.
He sat down at the desk, opened the map from the car, and spread it out in front of him. Then he pulled one of the candle-holders close, and lit the wick with his cigarette lighter. A warm glow rose in a small circle around him, and he carefully laid Morgan's note next to the larger map. Out came the cheaters. He ceremoniously positioned them on the bridge of his nose and affixed them behind his ears. Schell and I each leaned over a shoulder.
It took Antony a long time to figure out what part of the island he should be looking at. He'd crane his neck forward, so that it was almost touching the paper, and then back away a little and squint. He'd follow the line of a road with his big thick finger and then retract the finger and say, "That's not it."
Fifteen minutes later, all of us having grown weary of waiting, we were spread around the room, leaning against the walls. "Oh shit," he finally said, and Schell moved across the room toward him. "What is it?" he asked.
"You're never going to believe this, Boss. But if I'm not mistaken, this drawing would lead you up by the sound."
"What area?" I asked.
"Forget area," said Antony, whipping off the cheaters. "Straight to Parks's place."
KILL THE LIGHT
If there was one thing that Schell couldn't stomach, it was fast, reckless driving, and, when called upon, Antony was a master practitioner. As his foot increased its pressure on the gas peddle, a steady string of foul language issued from his mouth, increasing in intensity as the Cord picked up speed. He cursed the other vehicles, the bumps in the road, the twilight. As scared as I was, I wanted him to go even faster, as my thoughts were consumed with Isabel's safety.
The boss sat in the back with Morgan Shaw, and I sat up front, my fingers dug into the cushion. Although there were times when I wanted to close my eyes, they remained open, as if welded so, out of morbid curiosity, not wanting to miss the tree or car that would ultimately be our end.
We arrived at the front gate sometime after seven. The headlamps showed the guard's booth to be empty. Schell and I got out of the car and walked up to the gate. There was no one in sight, but Schell called out, "Hello?" It was then that I saw something lying on the ground, only partially visible, behind the guard booth.
"There," I said to Schell and pointed to the body.
He took a quick look and called for Antony. The big man got out of the car, followed by Morgan.
"You're going to have to be a ladder for Diego here," said Schell. "Let him get on your shoulders."
I loo
ked up at the top of the gate, which was at least nine feet high, and inspected the tips of its pointed bars. The thought of scaling it made me weak in the knees. "I don't know if I can do this," I said.
"Come on, kid, climb aboard," said Antony as he crouched down to make it easier for me to step up onto his shoulders.
I hesitated, and in that moment, Morgan had slipped off her shoes and was lifting a leg high to get a foothold on Antony's left shoulder. He reached up and took her small hands in his giant mitts. Clasping them tightly, he slowly stood. Morgan settled her other foot on his right shoulder as they rose.
"We oughta join the circus," said Antony as he moved closer to the gate.
She had to stand on her toes to reach the base of the spikes above the last crossbar. I doubted whether she would have the strength to pull herself up, but once she called Antony off and he stepped away, I could see her arms tense, and though they were thin, you could easily make out their long cablelike muscles.
"Good God, watch those spikes, Morgan," said Schell.
"Thanks," she said as she pulled herself straight up, and swung a leg out to the side to rest her toes on the crossbar. Once she managed to get a foothold, she made the rest seem easy. I looked over at Schell, and his mouth was agape as she lowered herself, hand over hand, to the ground.
"Get the keys off the guard," I said, but she was already at the task.
In less than a minute, she had opened the gate. Antony and Schell each took a side and pushed it back enough so that the car could pass through. I went to check on the guard to see if he was still alive. As soon as I crouched down next to him, I sensed something was terribly amiss. I had reached for his wrist to find a pulse and then suddenly became aware that, although he was lying on his back, his head was turned facedown. Calling to the others, I stood and stepped slowly away from the corpse.
"Broken neck," said Schell.
Morgan grunted, turning away from the sight. "I never even noticed."
"Somebody'd have to be pretty strong to do that," said Antony.
"Do we go on, or turn back and call the police?" asked Schell.
"I've got to go to the house," I said. "Isabel's in there."
Schell didn't hesitate. "Okay, let's go," he said.
We piled back into the car, Antony started it, and we cruised slowly up the drive. There were no lights on in the mansion, and the grounds were pitch-black.
After parking, we made our way up the steps to the front door, which we discovered was slightly ajar. Antony took out his lighter and flicked it on. The flame came up and offered a little respite from the darkness, illuminating an area of only about four feet around our huddled group.
"Let's head for the parlor," said Schell.
Antony nearly tripped over the butler in the foyer. When he held the lighter close to the body, it became evident that the man had been strangled. His eyes were huge, his tongue hung from the side of his mouth, and there were angry black-and-blue marks around this throat. Schell knelt and checked the man's pulse. "Forget it," he said.
Everything was happening so fast, and I was at least partially in shock from the sight of the bodies. Every second, I expected someone to leap out of the darkness and wrap their fingers around my throat. As we inched forward into the shadows, I tried to clear my mind enough to think what part of the house Isabel might be in.
We stumbled through the dining room, and it was there Morgan spotted two candles, which she appropriated. Antony lit them and gave his lighter a rest. Schell took one and gave me the other.
"I think the servants' quarters are on the other side of the house," he said. "You'd better go and find Isabel. Antony, go with him."
"Don't know if we should split up, Boss," said the big man.
"Time could be important," said Schell. "Miss Shaw and I will see if we can locate Parks in that parlor where we always met with him. We'll be careful, and believe me, if we need you, you'll hear me scream."
Antony shook his head, still unhappy with the arrangement. I didn't think it was such a great idea myself, but I knew Schell was right. In the time we would spend trying to find Parks, something could be happening to Isabel. We moved through the dining room and came to a main hallway that connected the eastern and western sides of the mansion.
As Antony and I were inching along, listening for sounds of an intruder, he whispered to me, "I'll bet you wish I'd brought the gun."
"From here on out, I'll never try to dissuade you from carrying the gun," I said.
Passing through the indoor swimming pool area, the candlelight reflected off the water and the large glass panes of the floor-to-ceiling windows, creating a dazzling display. Beyond that, the ballroom was a vast, echoing box of blackness. Eventually we came to the hallway that held the door to the room in which Isabel and I'd had our tryst. We'd taken no more than two steps down that corridor when I thought I heard something at the other end.
Lowering the candle so that my vision would not be disturbed by the glare of the flame, I peered into the shadows.
"Did you hear a noise down there?" asked Antony.
"Yeah," I said, and as I spoke, I caught sight of something moving, like a blur. It darted from one side of the hall to the other. I stopped, and Antony walked into me. "There's something down there," I said.
"Kill the light," he said, and when I was too slow to carry out his order, he leaned over my shoulder and blew out the flame.
Smoke rose up in front of me, and for a second that's all I could see, but when that cleared, I saw it again-a white form, like a ghost. It leaped across the hall.
"Shit, I see it," he said. "What the hell is that?"
Next thing I knew, it was moving toward me at an incredible rate, as if flying just above the ground. I was going to warn Antony, but before I could get the words out, a very material fist struck me square in the face and sent me sprawling sideways against the wall. I dropped the candle and very nearly passed out from the blow but held on, teetering in a crouch halfway between standing and falling.
I blinked once, twice, to clear my vision, and when I could see straight again, what I saw was Antony's shadow wrestling with the white form. They moved from one side of the hall to the other, banging into the walls, and the sound of the big man's grunts was interspersed with those of fists hitting their marks.
My eyes began to adjust to the darkness in time to see Antony's silhouette cock back its right hand and land a haymaker directly into what should have been the phantom's head. The white form was driven back by the blow, but it seemed unhurt as it sprang forward again. Some small object hit me in the chest.
"Kid, the lighter. Find the candle and…"
I dove down and scrabbled on the floor to find the lighter. When I sparked it, I noticed the figure had its hands around the big man's throat. I wanted to believe it was just a man, but I wasn't convinced. It was nearly as tall as Antony, pure white, and disfigured in some way I couldn't focus enough to discern. The two were ever moving in and out of the glow from the lighter's flame, and I couldn't get a clear view for more than half a second at a time.
Antony was trying to say something to me, but his words came forth as a kind of gurgling, and judging from the position of the shadowed figures I could tell the thing was strangling him. I forgot my search for the candle, leaped up behind the phantom, and set the flame of the lighter against its back. There followed a high-pitched squeal, like the cry of a wounded animal, and then its elbow shot back and caught me in the chest. I was knocked off my feet by the incredible force of the impact and lay gasping for breath.
I lost consciousness for no more than a few seconds, and when I came to, I managed to prop myself up on my elbow and again flick the lighter to life. Just then another form appeared in a frantic whirl from behind the phantom, who had Antony up against the wall and was obviously wringing his neck. This new presence lifted something high in the air and brought it down on the head of the attacker. There was a dull thud. The phantom dropped its arms, staggered back
, and Antony recovered enough to lash out with a right and then a left, landing two punches, either one of which would have put a normal man in the hospital. The thing retreated, turned, and ran into the darkness at the other end of the hall. A moment later there was a sound of glass shattering, and without turning to look, I knew the phantom had smashed through the window at the end of the hall in order to escape.
"Fuck," I heard Antony say in a hoarse whisper. "Kid, you still alive?"
Then there was a hand holding the candle up to the flame of the lighter that was still lit in my hand. I turned and saw Isabel's face. She was leaning down to kiss me.
TALK TO ME
Isabel and I had to help Antony along for a good part of the journey to the opposite side of the mansion. I got under one arm, she got under the other, and I know he must have been in pain and perhaps dizzy, because there were times when it felt like he was bearing down on us with his full weight. I wanted to know how he felt but didn't want to ask, as every time he tried to speak it came out as a rasping cough. Eventually, he let go of us, straightened up, and croaked, "Okay." Still he moved slowly, and we had to wait up for him.
We finally saw light ahead, emanating from the parlor where we'd had our initial meetings with Parks. I called out for Schell as we approached the room. He came to the door, holding the candle, and waved us on. As we entered, he said to me, "Parks is dead."
"How?" I asked, trying to see into the shadows beyond the bubble of the combined candlelight.
Morgan Shaw appeared behind Schell like a specter of some kind herself, her face and hair aglow. "Horrible," she said with an anguished expression.
"It looks like someone drove their thumbs into his eyes. His face is a bloody mess; empty eye sockets. There's nothing we can do here," said Schell.