Jessica turned and headed up the walkway to her building.
Let the talking heads take care of the rest.
***
Later that night.
11:50 pm.
Jessica calmly entered the last entry in her journal.
Makes perfect sense to the police.
Angry Jonny finally turns to his ultimate obsession. Fantasies played out to the point where each new victim has only left more to be fulfilled.
Makes perfect sense to me.
Though I’m not really sure what’s left of me.
Just this notebook, and whatever tomorrow may bring.
Starting at midnight, the doomsday clock resets.
Twenty three and a half hours after that, we’ll see who’s left standing.
Jessica closed the notebook and went to make herself some tea.
***
Thursday, August 13.
9:15 am.
Jessica sat on the living room couch, watching the local news. Three more Angry Jonny wannabes had struck in the past three days. No mention of the numerous acts of vandalism and theft, eponymous name spray-painted at each location. The live at the scene…
Dinah entered the room with a haggard sigh. “Things is bad all over.”
“True that… you all right?”
“Dealing with it.” Dinah collapsed on the couch, threw her feet up onto Jessica’s lap. “Just got another call. From another career opportunity. Another one crossed off the list.”
“Where from?”
“Boxxx Car Video.”
“The porn shack over on Lafleur Street?”
“They sell adult DVDs and novelty items,” Dinah replied primly. “And they’ve really cleaned up the place from the old days. Gone all mainstream to compete with the Internet.”
“Ain’t judging.”
“Good…” Dinah sighed again. “I would’ve really liked that job.”
Jessica turned off the TV then gave Dina’s shins a hearty smack. “Fuck it. Want to go out tonight?”
“You’re asking me if we should go out?”
“I’m insisting.”
“Who are you, and what have you done with Jessica?”
“Jessica not here,” she replied. “Jessica went away. Jessica gone.”
“Well, when you see her, tell Jessica it’s a date.”
“On the Rail?”
“Word.”
“All right…” Jessica stood up and stretched. “I’m working ‘till around ten-thirty. Why don’t you go on ahead and meet me there? Take the car. I’ll get a ride from Amanda.”
“Hey, Jess?”
“Yeah?”
Dinah smiled weakly. “I feel better already.”
“Hm.” Jessica scratched the back of her head. “Yeah, me too.”
Before Dinah’s emotions could snowball, Jessica hurried to the bathroom.
Daedalus had the water running. Running with what was harder to ascertain. Jessica had to guess the pink hue was from clay deposits leaking into the new piping. Whatever the reason, it was all the more believable when she called Chaucer to invite herself over.
***
10:05 am.
The housekeepers were just starting to ready Jessica’s accommodations for the evening. She peeked in through the open door. Didn’t see anybody, and she quickly leapt past 213. Pulled out the key card that Chaucer had gotten for her and knocked on his door.
Slipped the card into the lock and saw the light turn green.
She stepped in to find Chaucer doing a calf stretch. He coughed, reached for his gym towel and sat down on the bed. “I just thought I’d do this up here while I was waiting. Didn’t want to miss seeing you.”
“Yeah, I was hoping for a word myself.”
“What’s up?”
Jessica went to the terrace doors, swept her eyes across the green. The day had turned cloudy, an unexpected departure from that morning’s forecast. Farther along the links, miniature golfers took their required practice swings. Golf carts resting on the sidelines like squat, obedient Shetlands.
“Read the latest?” Jessica asked, turning back to Chaucer.
“Angry Jonny’s latest letter?”
“That’s the one.”
“Yeah…” Chaucer was lying back on the bed, cradling his knee to his chest. “Cops said it was a copycat.”
“What do you think?”
“I’d have to agree. It’s too dense for the kind of man who leaves hobo signs along with his calling card. Whatever it might have meant, it’s just too much information…” He rolled over, stood up. “Why? You think it might be the real thing?”
“I know this creep like the back of my hand.” Still covered with bruises from busting Carlton Walsh’s nose, she added silently. “No, I don’t think it’s his work… But even still. Got a favor to ask.”
“Whatever you like.”
“Just in case we’re all wrong…” Jessica feigned concern, bit her thumbnail before continuing. “I’ve got a shift this evening. Starting at six. Might not be done till midnight. After that, I’m getting a ride home, but until then… could you keep an eye on Dinah?”
“Keep an eye?”
“Just in case Angry Jonny strikes again… I’ve just been thinking the worst thoughts. Wondering if maybe he wouldn’t be getting a little jealous of Dinah at this point. The prime suspect in his master plan, you know?”
Chaucer nodded gravely. “I’ve thought about it once or twice.”
“She’s probably going to be at home. Might go out to the pool hall later on. But if you could shadow her. Keep watch, hush-hush. Soon as I’m off work, I’ll give you a call and tell you to head on back here, I promise… Just for a few hours, is that OK?”
“Of course…” he stepped around the bed. Paused as though he was contemplating a hug. Indecisive. “You sure you’re going to be fine, now?”
“Like I said. Dinner shift, surrounded by tons of people. Ride home with Amanda.”
“And you’re sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Amanda isn’t Angry Jonny?”
“Please. Amanda still plays with dolls.”
“So do I, but don’t go telling nobody.”
Jessica hoped her laughter didn’t sound as hollow as if felt. “So you’ll do it?”
“I said I would…” Chaucer lunged into one last embarrassing stretch, then headed for the door. “I’ll be back in around forty-five. You want any coffee from downstairs?”
“Better know it.”
“See you then.”
Jessica let the smile linger on her face for as long as she could stand it.
Didn’t need to worry about turning the shower on or covering her tracks.
This next part was going to be nice and easy, no more than ten minutes.
Jessica pulled a plastic shopping bag from Dinah’s book bag. Scooped up the Cadillac keys and headed downstairs. Through the lobby and out to Chaucer’s car. She popped the trunk and opened one of the boxes.
There was all that she needed; a box of sterilized vinyl gloves, a box of shoe covers, and a bottle of chloroform labeled for professional use only.
“Don’t you worry, sweetheart,” Jessica whispered. “I am nothing but professional.”
She took a pen from her pocket and scooped each item into the plastic bag. Rolled the chloroform bottle in, then tied the ends together. Covered the box, leaving everything as she had found it.
She slammed the trunk shut and walked away.
Back in Chaucer’s room, Jessica placed the plastic bag in Dinah’s book bag. She removed a roll of duct tape. Went to the door that separated 214 from 213. Opened it. There was that second door; no handle, no lock allowing her to open it. She placed a piece of tape over the latch, holding it down as she wrapped the tape around the inside of the door. With the 214 latch firmly trapped in its cubby-hole, she slathered on another piece of duct tape for good measure.
Jessica closed door 214.
Stepped back and had
a look, checking to see if anyone would be the wiser.
She reached out and pulled on the knob. The door opened without protest.
Jessica closed it once more, convinced she was all set on that end.
Went to the bathroom and helped herself to a good long shower.
One of the best she’d ever had.
***
Back at the apartment.
2:30 pm.
Dinah was off on another job interview, leaving Jessica to pace the rooms and empty hallways. Nothing but the walls and furniture to accompany her as she remained waiting. Paused once or twice before the minibar, eyeballing the miniature bottles of Skyy Vodka.
Shook it off.
Waiting for Benjamin to call. She turned on the TV. Watched two minutes worth of mind-numbing footage from the ongoing Afghan war, then turned it off, gave up.
She helped herself to a glass of tonic.
One sip. Two sips, when someone came knocking on the front door.
Jessica practically skipped across the living room floor.
Threw open the door, all ready to assail Benjamin with whatever debasing comment she could conjure.
In place of her jolly, affable hacker, there was Anita Montero.
Same shadow of a woman as she had last seen. Same oversized clothes masking her ravaged figure, bandana pulled taught above her gaunt, sallow features.
Anita held out Jessica’s book bag, smiling apologetically. “I know I should have been by sooner.”
“Not at all,” Jessica assured her. Not sure what she meant by that. “I’m the one knows where you live. My bag, my problem, right?”
“I don’t feel like disagreeing. But I do.”
Jessica took the bag. “You want to come in?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
Jessica leaned in with a sly nudge. “You stoned right now?”
“A little.” Anita giggled. Stopped, ashamed. Then giggled again. “I can’t believe I just laughed, considering what I’m about to ask.”
“Ask away.”
Anita took a breath. Settled herself. “Were you able to attend Al’s funeral?”
“No. No, I don’t know if you read –”
“Yeah, I saw the story in the paper. Ethan is such a prick.”
“He really is.”
“Well, I was really sick that day,” Anita confessed. “And I missed it too. And I know he was buried right across the road, Pinecrest Cemetery... And I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come with me. To visit him.”
“That is such an unbelievably creepy request.”
“I know…” Anita burst into a fit of laughter. Her body rattled with the effort. “But I really didn’t want to do this alone, so I thought…”
“Say no more,” Jessica smiled, feeling the black hole within her shriek in protest. “Don’t know how it’s physically possible, but I believe I’ve just gotten a contact high.”
Anita laughed. Stopped, pleased and mortified. Then kept laughing.
Jessica laughed along. Just plain mortified.
***
3:00 pm.
A single sheet of cloudy Saran Wrap stretched over the day. The air was holding steady at a humid seventy degrees, mingled with a crisp wind that lifted Jessica’s hair and the loose strands of Anita’s head scarf. A graveyard of saturated light, tombstones emotionless beneath an unwelcoming sky.
The two of them stood silently over Al Holder’s grave.
Jessica flashed back to her first hours at the Verona Observer, now just an watercolor blur.
Robbing her of all emotion as Anita wiped a tear from her face.
The sound of a bike bell alerted them to the strangest sight.
Just over the grassy hillside, Jessica spied a couple riding a bicycle built for two. Pedaling in tandem along one of the many winding paths. Weaving between under-bite headstones. Scattering rose petals as they journeyed past countless generations, the end of all things.
“How about that?” Anita marveled, sniffing.
Jessica didn’t answer.
Kept right on watching those two mysterious creatures continue on their way.
Biking right past the event horizon, gliding happily over the void even as the eerie, afternoon light fought uselessly to escape the darkness within her.
***
4:00 pm.
Benjamin called from the parking lot.
Jessica went down to meet him.
“Got ‘em all!” He handed her the iPod with a proud, rosy grin. “Don’t say I never done nothing for you.”
“Perish the thought.” Jessica absently took the iPod from him, then realized she had a golden opportunity. “How easily could you bypass a password-protected flash drive?”
“Depends. If it’s just password-protected, that should be fairly easy. But some flash drives come with an elaborately encrypted filing system that –”
“Yes or no, Einstein.”
Benjamin laughed. “Yeah, I can do pretty much anything you need…”
As always, Jessica couldn’t quite figure how he managed to let the abuse roll off his back.
Minutes later, Benjamin was sitting on the hood of his beat up, 1995 Mercedes. Swearing at his computer, while happily delivering his diagnosis. “Yeah, I think you misunderstood. The message you received when opening it was prompting a password that allows you to see the files, not access the drive itself.”
“What files?”
“Don’t know. They’re encrypted…” He glanced up, gave a sly smile. “Are we to understand this might be an unexpected bonus?”
Jessica frowned. Perhaps Malik’s journal had landed in her care through pure blood, sweat, and circumstance. “Maybe… Can you break the encryption?”
“Looks to be a pretty standard program. Easily downloaded online. Easily cracked.”
With a pained smile, tugged at her ear. “The files on the drive… they are of a…”
“Personal nature?”
“Yes.”
“I won’t peek. Trust me, they won’t even pop up.”
“You’re a bit of a godsend, Benjamin.”
“I’m a bit of an atheist.”
“There are no atheists in foxholes.”
“Amongst veterans, there are plenty…” Benjamin’s eyes reverted to some sad memory before rediscovering their sheen. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll give you the world.”
And while Benjamin hacked at shadows, Jessica doubled checked the iPod.
Scrolled down the list and found just what she needed.
Gleefully realizing that she was one step closer to fulfilling her master plan.
***
5:15 pm.
With Benjamin’s part fulfilled, Jessica wasn’t left with a lot of time to prepare herself for what lay ahead. She was due at Southland in forty-five minutes. After that, there would be no way back. So she took her time. Gathered every last building block, imaginary blueprints glowing before her eyes.
She folded the housekeeping uniform, placed it at the bottom of her book bag.
Next came the items pilfered from Chaucer’s car. She added a shower cap and allergy face mask. Nestled the whole assortment onto the housekeeping uniform and covered it with a pair of gray sweatpants, a purse of toiletries, a pair of black pumps, and a white dress shirt.
Picked up the iPod. Scrolled down and selected her movie. Jumped ahead forty-seven minutes and adjusted the volume to what felt like a suitable level. She turned it off and slipped it into the book bag’s front pocket.
She took out the two key cards, each one labeled with their corresponding rooms.
214 and 323, both joining the iPod for a little nap.
Jessica wriggled into a pair of tight, black designer jeans.
Topped it with her signature tank top.
She went through the entire ritual in complete silence, save the sound of her own breathing.
Jessica stood in the middle of her room and did a slow turn. Every book, pi
ece of furniture, the lamps, futon; regarded them all as though she had just moved in. Playing the part of whoever would come to replace her.
She walked to the desk.
Absently adjusted the framed issue of last year’s Economist endorsing Barack Obama. Did the same with the newspaper clip of pigs on a farmhouse roof, trapped by rising floodwaters.
Jessica waited for either one to speak to her.
To take her back to years, months, even weeks previous.
Neither served to remind her of anything, and she sat down at her desk. Opened her laptop and picked up Malik’s flash drive. The clock in the corner read 5:40. Jessica weighed the small, plastic tab in her hand, wondering if it wouldn’t be better to hold off until later.
A gust of wind blasted through the window, knocking over an empty coffee cup.
Jessica shivered.
She closed the laptop and slid it carefully into her book bag, along with the flash drive.
There really was no more time to waste. Any minute, Dinah might be home. Soon after that, Chaucer would be pulling up outside to keep watch. Maybe in his Caddie, maybe in Anita’s blue Pontiac. The last thing she wanted was either one of them catching her on her way out.
Jessica had already told them all that was needed.
Last rites performed, and now it was a simple matter of one final farewell.
“Goodnight, room.”
She strapped on her book bag and headed for the kitchen.
Opened one of the drawers and removed her wine key. Dug her nail into the groove and pulled out the two and a half-inch, serrated blade. Scraped the teeth against her arm, drawing a thin line of blood without trying. Imagined the damage she could inflict with just the slightest bit of force.
Jessica washed the blade and folded it back into the wine key.
Slipped it into her book bag and took a deep breath.
Locked the door behind her and took the steps one at a time.
Chapter 69: A Strange Wind.
With every step towards her destination, Jessica could have sworn the breeze was holding her back. Up along Ames Street, past the gas station with black-barred windows. Past the Islamic Learning Center, its windows boarded up, brick walls still stinging with the red spray paint spelling out Angry Jonny’s name.
Angry Jonny Page 40