by Simon Clark
That was the moment of revelation for Benedict. There on the bed lay Benjamin Lockram's wife. Benedict had sat up straight, heart thumping, nerves jangling. His eyes widened as the shot went into close-up on her face. When Lockram had filmed this, the woman was dead. From the appearance of the deeply sunken eyes, she'd been dead a while. The videotape ended with a click.
Then Benedict had understood. This was Lockram's confession.
CHAPTER 8
The clock ticked. In a neighbor's yard, kids were fooling around with lawn sprinklers. Robyn could hear excited squeals as they ran into the icy spray. She listened for a moment, catching some half-vanished recollection of herself screaming with delight as she squirted a hose at her father. She'd have been five then. By Christmas he and Mom had split. He joined a dental practice way down somewhere in Florida. Within a year he'd wound up dead from an embolism developed after scuba diving.
It was only in her mid teens she'd learned about the trust fund he'd created for her before he died. Maybe she could have talked to him about all the problems she faced now. He'd have been a much-needed confidant.
Robyn touched her face where it still burned from Emerson's slap. Her other hand rested on her stomach, which fluttered and twitched. This weekend I've lurched from disaster to disaster, she told herself. Mom dismissed Emerson striking me as hysteria on my part. When she heard about my being pregnant she sniffed as if she'd half anticipated that eventuality all along and merely asked if I was going to keep it. Now I've got to tell Noel. From the roll I've been on this is going to be a disaster, too).
Even as Robyn picked up the phone she could imagine Noel telling her they were finished. He was at college. He planned to travel the world.
No way was Noel going to be tied to a wife and kid in some two-bit apartment with wall-to-wall rot and roaches.
She raised her eyes to the mirror. ”You've got to do it, girl. There's no putting it off any longer." Thumbing the call button, she heard ringing, followed by a click and Noel's voice.
”Noel? There's something I've got to tell you…”
***
Noel drove. Robyn sat in the passenger seat staring forward as the April sun dipped toward factory smokestacks.
”Robyn,”he said after a long silence. ”You're pregnant. I'm going to stand by you, but you shouldn't-”
”I've made up my mind,”she told him. ”I'm not going back.”
”But you can't just walk out of your home like that.”
”Just try and stop me.”
”I'm not suggesting you stay there forever; take a few days to think it over. It's a big step to-”
”Noel. Listen. Years ago my dad set up a trust fund for me. When I'm twenty-one I can access it, only Mom and Emerson want to crack the trust. When they do, Emerson's gonna blow it all on a stupid business venture.”
”Robyn, he-”
”That guy couldn't make money out of a dog that shits gold.”
There was a pause. Then Noel glanced sideward a couple of times at her before asking, ”What happened to your face?”
”Nothing.”
”A red, sore-looking nothing.”
”Sunburn, that's all.”
He glanced again. She kept her face turned away, unable to meet his gaze.
”Did you fight with your mom?”
”What do you expect? She was shocked to hear she's going to be a grandma.”
”She shouldn't have hit you.”
Robyn kept her lips together. Telling Noel what Emerson had done would only complicate things. As it was, she found herself on the brink of crying again. Noel had been so sweet when she'd told him that she was pregnant. He hadn't questioned the whys. He accepted it as a done deal.
He promised to stick by her, that this wouldn't come between them. What had troubled him most was Robyn's decision to leave home there and then.
There was no way on God's earth she was going to endure another argument today So she'd written a note for her mother and left it on the kitchen table.
Only it's one thing to walk out of a home, she told herself. It's another thing entirely to find a new one.
***
After a break for a sandwich and more coffee, Benedict West eased tape number two of Lockram's video testament into the machine. Outside, the setting sun cast a blood red flame against the blinds. Benedict sat on the rug with his back to the wall to watch the TV. This time Lockram stood in the same dark suit in front of the Luxor's art-deco entrance.
He'd been explaining how the pillars had been cast from concrete and that while the lotus blossoms had been carved from wood, the pharaoh's faces set above the entrance were plaster casts. Then they'd been painted to resemble a creamy white marble. A wind blew, tugging the man's hair into rippling strands of white.
Lockram glanced back up to a window set high in the wall above the entrance as if he half expected to see the face of his dead wife peering out. Benedict realized now that the man had set up the camera, left it running, then stepped in front of the lens to address the viewer. It must have cost a lot of sweat to position the camera, adjust focus, then step up to a mark he'd chalked on the floor, so he'd be picture center.
Then on top of that, to talk like a seasoned TV veteran. Benedict listened to what Lockram was saying onscreen. ”Before the Luxor stood here, it was the site of a sawmill. Barges brought the logs down on the Ftyyte that runs behind the Luxor there. No doubt you can still find timber sawn here in old buildings in Chicago. The sawmill closed in 1914 after its owner died. His house stood right here in what is now the parking lot. There was a local legend that when a person was dying, all the crows from miles around would fly in to settle on the roof of the house. Those that couldn't fit on the roof sat in the trees. There, these feathered omens of death would wait patiently for the man or woman to die. For a long time they wouldn't make a sound, but then as the doomed individual reached their final hours on earth, the crows would become restless. They'd make sounds that matched the dying person's respiration. The crows, you see, were considered to be the devil's own birds. They were here to catch the person's soul as it fled to heaven.
If they caught it they dragged it away to hell. Then they'd fly around screaming out, all happy and excited that they'd claimed another soul for their master. If somehow the deceased's soul managed to dart between them and escape to heaven, then the crows would sit in the trees around the house in absolute silence. Sulking, I suppose you could say, over their failure.”
Benedict rubbed his tired eyes. ”You should go to a bar'' he told himself. ”Find some company. He sighed. ”Find a girl.”But no, once he'd started watching Lockram's damn videotapes he'd remain locked in them until he'd devoured every last one. The key to Mariah's disappearance lay hidden in those tapes. He was sure of it. As always, he'd scan the line of the tapes on the coffee table. There they all were, standing like dwarf tombstones. Volumes one through seven. Number five was missing. With every hour that passed that stifling Sunday afternoon, Benedict West grew more certain that the missing tape held the key he was so desperate to find.
***
”Robyn, it's going to be dark in an hour”
”Keep driving. We're bound to find one soon.”
”Around here? There's nothing but wasteland. All these factories are derelict.”
”So? When we find a motel it's going to be a cheap one.”
”Yeah, a cheap motel like the Bates' place.”He gave a grim smile.
”Light, heat, vibrating beds and a knifing in the shower; all inclusive.”
”Pessimist.”She smiled, then laid a hand on his knee. ”Thanks.”
”For what, Robyn?”
”Being so patient… for your forbearance.”She looked at him. ”For not mentioning the word 'abortion.'”
”I'd never ask that,”Noel said as they drove between lines of warehouses. ”Never ever. Whatever choice you make I'm going to support you. Remember that.”
”Thanks.”
”Look, Rob
yn,”he said gently. ”We're not going to find a motel here.”
”Not even the Bates' caring scaring kind?”
”Not even with a mad old mom in the house on the hill.”
”Shoot.”
He took a right at random. ”Isn't there a friend who could loan you a bed for a couple of nights?”
She shook her head. ”That's one way to kill a friendship, throwing yourself at their mercy.”
”I'm sure they wouldn't see it like that.”
Robyn rubbed her stomach. The sensation was so strange. As if there were a nucleus of heat buried deep in there. In her mind's eye she found herself picturing a glowing orb inside her womb. Almost dreamily, she murmured, ”I was certain I'd find somewhere around here. There's got to be a motel or lodging house.”
”Lodging house? Sounds a tad Wild West to me.”
”I could have been certain.”
”You've been here before?”
”No.”
Noel shot her a puzzled glance. Robyn knew her conviction sounded bizarre. This was an industrial zone. She'd never visited the place, so why did she believe with such burning intensity that there'd be a place here to call home? Hell, she only had two hundred bucks in her checking account. Even a crumbling motel in downtown psychoville wouldn't come free. She'd have to eat (for two, she added). That couple of hundred would only last a few days. Noel had already offered a little money, but being a college student, he had next to nothing anyway. Maybe the shock of learning she was pregnant had sent her loopy.
When you come to think of it, searching an industrial zone for a low-cost motel wasn't the act of a sane nineteen-year-old, was it?
The next time Noel spoke he clearly knew they needed a change of plan.
”It's a longer drive, but if I headed out by the lake we should be able to find a bed95 and-breakfast. If they didn't charge much I could tell my old man that I need to take a field trip from college. Then he might spring for-”
”Noel!”
”What's wrong?”Startled, his eyes jerked down at her stomach as if she were about to give birth right now.
”Pull in there. No! To your left!”
”Robyn, that's not a motel.”
”I know but… shit, Noel, just drive up to the front of it. Please!”
Even in her excitement she recognized that sideward glance of his at her again.
He's starting to think I'm nuts, too.
Even so, he did as she asked. Heart beating wildly, she leaned forward against the seatbelt to look up at the facade of the building that glowed in the setting sun.
”The Luxor?”Noel read the words blazed in crimson-and-gold paint above the entrance. ”Jesus H. Who'd stick a dance hall out here in the middle of nowhere?”
”Noel, I've been here before.”Excitement fired electric tremors through her voice. ”Look at those carved heads! They're Egyptian pharaohs.”
Duh… You don't say. If Noel had been thinking it, he didn't say it.
Instead: ”When on earth did you visit a place like this? It must have been closed years.”
”I don't know… but I'm sure I've been here before. It must have been when I was very young. Perhaps with Dad.”
”Robyn.”Suddenly Noel sounded very adult. Very serious, too. ”Won't you think about going home to your mom's for a while?”
”I've got to take a closer look at this.”Before Noel could react she'd shrugged off the seatbelt and bolted from the car.
She walked alongside the building, looking up at paintings that imitated Egyptian hieroglyphs mingling with repros of tomb paintings. They ran in a yard-deep band just above her head across the wall. Egyptian eyes, bandaged mummies, sarcophagi, shawabti, hawk heads, cats, jackals with up-pointed ears, crocodiles, a man beheading prisoners. One odd sight struck her.
Where have all those crows come from?
They'd settled on the roof of the Luxor in such great numbers they formed a thatch of glistening black. Making no sound, they tilted their heads as they watched her go by.
CHAPTER 9
”Noel… Noel?”
”Are you coming back to the car now, Robyn?”
Robyn raced around the corner of the dance hall to where Noel stood by the car. Shielding her eyes against the red glare of the setting sun, she called out excitedly, ”Noel, have you got a flashlight?”
”A flashlight?”
”Yeah, one of those electric light-up-your-room things!”Robyn laughed.
She hadn't experienced this nerve-tingling excitement in months. Christ, it was almost orgasmic. She laughed again, loving Noel's expression of amazement at her happiness. ”A flashlight, lover boy. Have you got one… or are ya just pleased to see me?”She bounced up and down. A kid at Christmas couldn't be any more full of jump-in-the-air excitement.
”Yes, I've got a flashlight,”he began. ”In the trunk. It should-”
”Come on then, quick! Get it.”
”Robyn?”
”I want to show you something.”
Looking unsure of how to deal with her elation, Noel popped the trunk and retrieved a hefty rubber-sheathed flashlight.
She bubbled, ”Doesn't this place look amazing? Look at all those gold paints and blues… See that bright shade of blue just like the Egyptians used! Those scarab beetles up there are pushing gold disks that represent the sun; it's all to do with the Egyptian belief of death and rebirth.”
”Don't get too carried away. It's only a mock-up, not the high temple in Karnak.”He smiled but there was a whisper of uncertainty.
Wow! Noel figures I've dipped. Maybe I have. Assemble the clues: Finding out you're with child (curse those birth control pills; probably made by the same folks who built the Titanic-heh heh!)-that's a big shock. Same weekend you learn you're going to be homeless. Another big shock! When you tell your mom's boyfriend he can't take your dough, he slams you in the kisser? Another big shock. All those big, big shocks have flipped my brain over into glorious, purple-spangled madness. Ooooh, that's what I call a bummer of a weekend.
”Robyn? Robyn?”
Behave yourself, boyfriend Noel is talking.
”Robyn, what was it you wanted me to see?”
”This way, buster!”
She grabbed him and twirled him around in a twisting dance. A huge grin took control of her face. ”You think I'm nuts, don't you?”
”I think you've got mood swings. Twenty minutes ago you were so down I thought you were going to-”
”Crack up? Leap into the river?”She grabbed his hand. ”I'm going to have a baby. That's a good thing, isn't it?”
”Absolutely. We'd be in trouble if people stopped being born.”
”It must be the hormones shooting through me. But I feel great. Really alive. Happy!'”She squeezed his hand. ”So in love with you I could pop.”
”Don't pop here, think of the mess.”
She saw that Noel grinned, reflecting her own happiness. ”Everything's beautiful.”She laughed. ”Look at that gorgeous sunset. It's as if huge rose petals are floating in the sky And this building! It's incredible.
It's like something I've dreamt about and now I suddenly find it here. I love you, dance hall. Luxor, you're beautiful!”She patted the mock-Egyptian columns that flanked the entrance. Then she made the suggestion that turned off Noel's grin and replaced it with an expression of shock. ”Come on, let's take a look inside.”
”In there?”He stared in disbelief. ”We can't, it's all boarded up.”
”Don't underestimate your girlfriend. She's found a way in around the other side.”
”Robyn. It's not wise.”
”Afraid of trespassing?”
”No-afraid for you.”
”I'm pregnant, not a delicate little flower you have to keep in a glass box.”
”But you've only just found out. You said that your hormones were all-”
”Come on, Noel. Live a bit.”
”The sun's almost set.”
”So?”
> ”It'll be dark soon.”
”And we're all alone.”She laughed. ”This way.”Pulling him by the hand, she walked him around the corner of the Luxor. Here the parking lot ran another fifty yards before ending in a swathe of trees and bushes that formed a dense green barrier. A little to her right, she fancied she glimpsed the shimmer of late sunlight falling on what appeared to be a canal or river. Surrounding the plot on which the Luxor stood like some lonely desert fortress were derelict warehouses, cranes, service roads without traffic and factory after factory that hadn't cast a gear cog or molded so much as a beer can in two decades. So maybe the comparison of the Luxor standing alone like a fort in a desert wasn't far off the mark. She reached a door where a sign on the wall Said ARTISTES ENTRANCE.
Noel shrugged. ”See? No way in. It's locked down tight.”
”I have a nose for these things. After you.” Smiling, she pulled aside a two-by-four board that covered the bottom half of a door. The ply panel beneath had been kicked through, making a man-sized hole that would allow them to slip into the building.
”Robyn, you're kidding me?”
Smiling at his expression of dismay, she shook her head.
”But-”
”I know-it'll be dark in half an hour.”
