House of Skin, page 21
“I’m okay,” she said in a low tone. “You don’t have to call in the Calvary.”
But it was too late. Five or six heavily armed cops in ballistic vests kicked through the door, scanning the dimness with automatic weapons.
“Search the place,” Fenn told them and they scattered in all directions.
“He never showed,” she told him. Her voice had a strange lilt to it and he didn’t care for it in the least.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.” She studied the floor. “Nothing at all. I think this place is getting to me. It makes you imagine things.”
“What sort of things?”
But she just shook her head and he wasn’t about to push matters. He helped her out to the van and they drove back to her hotel. He came up and she sat in a chair, falling asleep almost immediately. He lifted her into bed and covered her.
He kissed her cheek. “Sleep tight,” he said and let himself out.
When the door closed, she opened her eyes.
* * *
She was awake most of the night. Sleep was something for people with peaceful minds and easy hearts, not for those who feared they couldn’t distinguish between reality and nightmare.
What happened in the attic was a mindless plunge into blackness. It couldn’t have happened, not in any sane world, yet she knew it had. She knew all the symptoms of obsessive mania and hallucinatory delusion and suffered from not a one. Although she was feeling what Kierkegaard had deemed angst, an undefined anxiety, she was very much in command of her faculties.
As much as she’d suspected an underlying truth in what Spider had said, the confirmation of such was maddening. Some things were best left in a theoretical phase. But she had seen it. She had seen William Zero … or the hideous monster he’d become. He’d come back now, ripped asunder in some alien chasm and pieced back together to come calling. But it was him. There was no getting around that. He’d slipped away from the police some twenty years before and plunged head first into a private hell she knew only as the Territories.
And now he was back.
I knew you’d come eventually, Lisa.
He hadn’t threatened her, nor even attempted to reach out to her with his cancerous fingers. He smiled and asked only one thing: “Where is my son?” And that was enough of a question to rob the air from her lungs and drop her to her knees.
There’d been no other intercourse between them and if there had been, she feared her mind would’ve snapped like a stick of dry kindling and left her there, babbling and sobbing. He had departed the real then in a screaming rush of vacuum wind that shook the attic and nearly pounded the fillings from her teeth. He’d stepped into the mirror. Dust and dirt and splintered wood had rained down on her and then the attic was just the attic again, save for a sharp reek of ozone and death. The Territories had closed their loathsome gates with a huge, ripping sound and a reverberation of human screams. She’d found her way downstairs then. She couldn’t even remember exactly how, only a vague half-memory of crawling like a baby and weeping. The next thing she remembered was the door opening and Fenn coming to her rescue. The only evidence that it had happened at all was that her watch had stopped at exactly midnight.
She’d told Fenn nothing. She couldn’t bring herself to. Maybe later she would.
No, never, she told herself. I saw a man step through a mirror. I must be crazy … I have to be crazy …
Yet, she knew she would have to tell Fenn. Eventually.
And even then, what would she tell him? That reality had gashed open, its very unstable material had ruptured and no blood had seeped from the wound, only a black portion of some impossible, grotesque world between worlds? Some quasi-dimension of insanity had poked out and Dr. Blood-and-Bones had paid his respects? What would he say to that? And if she had the mettle to bring that to her lips, shouldn’t she tell the rest, too? That William Zero, the very demented father of the very man they sought, had preyed upon her when she was an insecure, naïve teenager? That she had loved him even as he used her? Had harbored romantic visions of him even as he beat and sodomized her? That even if she had known, she might not have cared that he was off cutting up women when he wasn’t abusing her? What would he say then? I understand why you chose psychiatry, Lisa, because you’re one screwed-up bitch. And he wouldn’t have been far from the truth. Because she had chose it for that very reason. She’d hoped that understanding the human mind in general would help her understand her own tormented psyche in particular. Understand why she did what she did, why she chose the men she chose, why her desires were a direct contradiction to all she held sacred. And most importantly, once she’d discovered her old lover’s true identity, why she still held him in awe, still missed his perversions. And why she’d had something quite close to a sexual infatuation for his equally unstable son.
No, she could never tell him. He’d hate her if he knew what she was, who she was. Because no normal woman you could love felt the things she did, wanted the things she did. William Zero might have corrupted her impressionable mind at a very painful period in her life, but he’d eventually gone his own way and she’d been lost without him. And could she really point the finger at him for her inability to enjoy a healthy romantic or sexual relationship?
Her training told her no, not entirely. Every person is still their own master, still able to make their own decisions and choices.
It wasn’t a puzzle she could hope to solve. Her own mind was every bit as complex as any other. And she lacked the needed objectivity to approach it as a therapist.
And what about Cherry Hill?
What would Fenn say when she unloaded that little gem on him?
You let a psychopath free into the world and you never reported it?
Oh, Christ.
Yeah, Cherry was here, too, now. If things hadn’t been complicated or terrible enough before, now they were definitely worse. Lisa’s past mistakes were about to gang up on her. Fenn already had suspicions about Cherry and eventually she’d have to tell him about that, if nothing else. Which brought up an interesting point. When Soames was working for her, he never once mentioned anything about Cherry Hill. But now he had, to Fenn. What did that mean? Was that mysterious lead he was working on something about Cherry?
If Fenn or anyone else ever find out about the illegal drug trials on Cherry, you’ll not only lose your license but be charged with criminal negligence.
It was getting so complicated.
For now, certain questions remained. Mainly, why had Zero returned for his son? What was the purpose? Had he learned of Eddy’s desire to enter the darker realms of the Territories and was he now ready to unzip the bowels of the chasm, walking hand in hand into a living nightmare with his son? Was that it? It couldn’t be sheer coincidence that he’d chosen this particular time to reappear.
Before dawn she collapsed back in bed, exhausted from self-analysis and too many questions without sane answers. She closed her eyes and began to dream that Fenn was making love to her, sketching out his emotions and desires to her in a flurry of infantile kisses. There was no arousal for her, not until his face melted away and was replaced by that of William Zero.
Then there was no limit.
FRIEND TO THE FRIENDLESS
* * *
In the house he was renting, Eddy Zero was drinking and plotting out his next move. Spider was dead now, but his body was in the next room. Eddy had all the necessary materials to resurrect him now that he’d looted his flat, but actually going about it was another matter entirely. Spider’s notebooks spelled out in detail how it had to be done. But, of course, it was madness.
And Eddy wasn’t mad.
Just as corpses never live again.
The Shadows were mulling around him, excited at the prospect of a dead body rising up.
(bring him back eddy then we’ll have a place to call our own)
“It’s rubbish.”
(try it try it anyway)
“Not bloody likely. I’ve better things to do.”
(you promised him we heard you promise him you’d do it if he died)
“Leave me alone.”
(you promised)
“Fuck off.”
He started to pour himself another drink when he heard the front door open and close. He set his bottle down and sat silently. A thief? A looter? His fingers closed on the knife in his pocket and he turned off the lights. No one knew about this place but Spider and he. No one alive, that was.
The door to the living room swung open.
He saw a shape in the doorway.
“What do you want here?” he asked calmly.
There was no answer. The shape stood its ground.
“Well?”
There was a whisper of motion as the shape stepped into the room. “Turn on the light,” it said. “I’m a friend.”
That voice, that voice—
He turned on the light.
Cassandra stood there dressed in a skirt and blazer. His heart skipped a beat and for a moment he wasn’t sure whether he’d laugh or scream. He did neither. He just stared. She’d come back to him … not in cerements stained with grave dirt, but in skirt and blazer. Like a woman on her way to the office. There was something damnably funny about that—walking dead, business elite class.
“Don’t ogle me, Eddy. I’m not here to haunt you.”
“Then why … how?” He could barely speak. The words seem to rattle on his tongue.
“Unfinished business,” she said, sitting on the sofa and crossing her legs. “It’s rather irresponsible to die before your affairs are put in order.”
“I murdered you.”
“You did.”
“But you were dead, I saw—”
“Yes, yes, I’m dead, all right. Quit making a scene about it for God’s sake, will you?”
“I’m must be going crazy.” Feeling light-headed, he sank into a ratty chair. “Yes, that’s it. I’m a fucking lunatic.”
Cassandra laughed. “Of course you are. Like father, like son.”
“Maybe it’s really taking hold now.”
She laughed with a throaty croaking sort of sound. “Oh, I’m real enough, Eddy. Dead as a bag of drowned kittens, but real enough.”
His face was hanging, slack and sallow. “But how … how did you do it?”
“It’s a long and dreary story. Suffice to say I’m here and I forgive you for killing me.”
“It wasn’t my fault, the Shadows made me kill you.”
(you killed her because you wanted to we only unlocked your desires)
“You made me do it! You didn’t give me a choice!”
(don’t be such a baby be man enough to take responsibility for your actions your father ALWAYS took responsibility for his actions)
“I’m not my father!”
(pale imitation)
“Shut up!”
(The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree but this one has a worm in it)
Eddy clutched his hands to the side of his head. “Sometimes they won’t fucking shut up.”
“That’s some baggage you carry, darling,” Cassandra said. “Daddy’s pets, are they?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. They won’t leave.”
(give us spider’s body and we’ll leave you alone)
“It makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?” Cassandra said. “Give them the carcass and they’ll be happy.”
Eddy looked up at her. “You … you can hear them?”
She nodded. “Of course. The dead can hear the dead just fine. Now tell me about Spider’s cabalism and alchemy. There’s nothing like a good resurrection for laughs.”
Eddy outlined the plan to her and showed her Spider’s books and notes. It was very detailed stuff. She studied them over for a time as she pulled off a cigarette and he wondered how it was she looked so good. Why, he could barely see a hack mark on her anywhere. Amazing, is what it was.
“Bright boy, our Spider,” Cassandra said. “Let’s give it a whirl. Where is he?”
Eddy brought her into the next room. She set to work, handling his cadaver with the sort of respect only the dead have for their own. It was a lengthy, gruesome process opening him up and replacing his vitals with bags of herbs and salts and spices, injecting odd chemicals in certain locations. It took some time.
Eddy watched her as she worked. “Why did you come back?” he asked.
“For you. Who but me can take care of you? And you need looking after, you know. You’re making a real mess of things.”
Eddy didn’t contest the fact.
No man is an island.
THE LADY IN BLACK
* * *
Two days after Lisa had her run-in with William Zero, a visitor paid her a call at her hotel. She was a thin, dark beauty dressed in a black leather skirt and jacket. Her name was Cherry Hill.
Cherry had decided it was time they meet face to face again and talk. As she saw it, things were reaching critical mass, and it was in Lisa’s best interest to back off while there was still time. She planned only to convince her of this in the politest manner possible. And if the good doctor wouldn’t listen to reason, there were always alternate methods.
The desk clerk smiled at Cherry as she came in. He was a younger man, probably in his twenties, she thought, and as such, putty in her hands. As she made her way to the desk, she could feel his eyes running up and down her legs. She could sense his hunger and it was very much to her advantage.
“Good evening, miss,” he said. “May I help you with something?”
“I hope so. Is Dr. Lochmere in?”
“Yes, I believe so. But she left strict orders not to be disturbed.”
Cherry smiled. “Did she now?”
“Yes … well … she …”
Cherry was leaning over the desk now, giving him a good view of her cleavage. Her breasts weren’t large, but ample and firm. The clerk couldn’t help himself. He was no longer looking in her eyes. Cherry’s lacquered nails were drumming on the registration book.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Richard.” His voice was barely audible.
“Richard,” she said, rolling it off her tongue. “Dr. Lochmere left orders not to be disturbed, you say?”
“Well … actually it was Mr. Fenn who did and he’s, you know, a cop and all.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, homicide.”
“Nasty business. You couldn’t just bend the rules a bit and tell her Cherry Hill is here, could you? We’re old friends. She’d want to see me.”
“No … no, I could get in trouble.”
Cherry licked her lips. “Is this Mr. Fenn with her now?”
“No, not right now,” Richard told her. “But he’s in and out all the time. I’m sure he’ll be back before long … and if I was to disturb her … you know how cops get … he’d probably get me fired.”
Cherry put her hand on his. He started slightly. “I wouldn’t want that to happen. Does she spend a lot of time with Fenn?”
“Yeah … I only work nights, but he’s up there a lot. They came in pretty late last night. Well after midnight. God knows what they’re up to, a cop and a psychiatrist.”
Cherry was stroking his middle finger now. “I think I know what they’re doing,” she said in a husky voice. “Probably fucking.”
Richard was trembling now.
“I don’t suppose there’s any way I could convince you, so I won’t try …”
“Well …”
“You just tell Dr. Lochmere that Cherry was here. Not the cop, only Lochmere, you understand?”
“Yes.”
“And maybe I’ll stop by tomorrow night and see if I can make you break some rules.”
Cherry ran fingers over his lips and left. She felt, rather than saw, him slump down in his chair. It would’ve been easy enough to seduce Richard and get up to Lisa’s room, but there was time. Tomorrow night, if she indeed came back, he’d be begging to give her a key. Men were like that.
Cherry winked at the doorman on her way out and disappeared into the night.
MEMOIRS OF THE TEMPLAR SOCIETY (6)
* * *
This night, only Stadtler and Zero showed up for the meeting. Zero made them drinks and said, “I’m afraid we have trouble.”
Stadtler’s hand shook as he gulped his whiskey. “How so?”
“Mr. Grimes.”
“Where is he? Has he done something?”
“He’s told someone of our activities.”
Stadtler lost what color he had left. “Shit! I knew it.”
“He told our man Soames everything.”
“That fucking pimp?”
Zero nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“Why for chrissake?”
“Blackmail, I would guess. Our association with Soames predates that of ours with you. Grimes and I spoke on the phone. He said Soames had photographs of him and … others. Items his wife wouldn’t approve of. Soames wanted to know what was happening to the girls he’d gotten for us.”
“Bastard.”
“I’m afraid so. You shouldn’t worry, though. He’s never seen your face.”
“But he knows my fucking name. Shit, this is just great.”
“I don’t think he’ll go to the police. I have incriminating evidence on him.”
Stadtler was trembling. “It can’t be anything like he has on us.”
“No, but—”
“But, nothing, Zero. If he goes to the fucking cops, they’ll probably cut him a deal. Give him immunity from prosecution to testify against us.”
“I hadn’t considered that.”
Sweat was boiling from Stadtler’s face. “Shit, use your head man. We have to get outta town.”
“Calm down.”
“You fucking calm down.”
“Please, we have time yet. There’s more.”
Stadtler shook his head. “Great.”
Zero refreshed his drink. “Our Mr. Grimes has unfortunately taken his life. The scandal, guilt, perhaps.”
“Killed himself?”
“Yes.”
