The Inferno Collection

by Jacqueline Seewald

  The super was a wiry Hispanic of medium height with a swarthy complexion and thick black mustache and brows. He wore a sooty T-shirt, faded jeans and a checkered flannel jacket that had frayed edges.

  “What you want?” He was less than cordial, eyeing her with suspicion.

  “Are you the superintendent for this building?”

  The dark, bright gaze of the man darted out at her shrewdly from under his bushy brows. “Why you want to know?”

  “I’m looking for a tenant, Frank Swallinsky. Do you know him?”

  “I know all the tenants here.” He looked her up and down as if sizing her up.

  “Have you seen him lately?”

  “Why you want to know?” He seemed to be verbally flexing the muscles of his machismo.

  She was careful to keep her tone calm and neutral. “The people at his job are worried. No one’s heard from him for about a week.”

  “Me, I mind my own business.”

  “Something bad could have happened to him. Have you seen him at all?”

  “You think he’s in some kind of trouble?”

  She was growing impatient. Why would he only answer a question with a question?

  “We don’t know,” she said striving to sound benign.

  “Well, I haven’t seen him for a while.”

  “How long?”

  “A week maybe. I don’t know for sure. If I see him, you want me to tell him you was here?”

  “What I really would like is access to his apartment.”

  The super eyed her coldly. “You a cop? You got a warrant?”

  “No, not exactly, but I am very concerned about Mr. Swallinsky’s well-being. He might very well be lying in his apartment hurt—or even dead.”

  “You get a warrant, lady. Don’t bother me till then. I don’t want no trouble here.” With that, he turned around, walked into his apartment and slammed the door in her face.

  * * * *

  As she drove back to work, Kim knew that it was time to call Lieutenant Gardner again. Right or wrong, he had to be told of her suspicions. Back at her desk, she checked to make certain no one was nearby to overhear her conversation.

  She caught Gardner at home. She could tell from the lieutenant’s voice that he had not expected her call. Then she told him where she’d been and he was even more surprised.

  “You went into a high-crime neighborhood with a real potential for danger and didn’t bother to tell anyone where you were going? Now why doesn’t that surprise me? No offense, but you need a keeper! You got no street smarts whatsoever.”

  “There’s no need to be so sarcastic, Lieutenant. I just didn’t want to give you incorrect information.” She then explained to him how both Dr. Forbes and the custodian were about the same size. “Frank often cleaned Dr. Forbes’ house for him. They were on good terms. He could have been at the house that evening. No one’s seen him in at least a week.” She took a deep breath, inhaling deeply, then talked in a rapid clip, afraid he would stop her if she wasn’t quick about it.

  “I think it may have been Frank who died in the fire. Dr. Forbes was a diabolical man. I don’t believe he’s dead at all.”

  “Have I got this right? You think Forbes is still alive?”

  “It’s a real possibility,” she affirmed.

  “What if I were to tell you that Forbes’ dental records compare identically with the skeletal remains of the corpse?”

  “Was it just bridgework? Couldn’t that be placed in a corpse’s mouth to fool your people?”

  He sighed patiently, “Yeah, maybe. But it’s not likely. Still, I’ll check it out.”

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but it could mean something.”

  “This guy, Frank, did he have any family?”

  “None that I know of. But he seemed to like his job. The thing is, I don’t believe he would leave for no good reason.”

  “Happens all the time. He could have a reason you don’t know about. Who’s to say?”

  She felt awful disturbing the policeman when he was off-duty. Still, if she was right, it was necessary. She heard him sigh.

  “All right, I’ll check out this Swallinsky. You might as well know, I think it’s a waste of time but I’m willing to examine every lead.”

  “Good, and if I’m totally wrong, I won’t bother you again. I apologize for interrupting your evening.”

  “Just give me your word, no more dangerous situations.”

  “Of course not. I’m just a quiet, ordinary librarian.”

  “Yeah, right. I’ll be in touch with you soon. And you can bother me anytime.” The way he said that last comment made her smile.

  * * * *

  Kim finished work that evening feeling a good deal more relaxed. Still, she remembered she had Nick Margrove’s knife in her handbag, which she clutched to her breast as she walked toward the deserted parking deck. Strange, but she felt again as if someone were following her, watching and waiting to pounce and attack her. Last night, she’d felt the same way, as if evil was ready to prey on her in some hideous form—like a child thinking there was a monster hidden in her closet. Nothing happened, and she’d felt foolish for being fearful. She could well be suffering from an overactive imagination.

  She’d been planning to stop at one of the large supermarkets along the highway. Deciding against it, she kept heading straight for home. Food was the last thing on her mind. She found herself shivering, although the night was not cold. Why did she feel a sense of foreboding, as if something were very wrong? Her awareness was definitely in overdrive. She was as tense and alert as if she was jazzed on caffeine. Something was very wrong.

  A few minutes later, she made a discovery that convinced her it was not a mistake to trust her special instincts after all.

  NINETEEN

  The traffic filtered out as she drove south. The night was peaceful and scenery flashed past in quick frames like a silent movie. In the rearview mirror, she saw another car’s headlights beaming brightly and wondered if she was being followed. There was no reason for anyone to tailgate her since the road was clear. Speeding up, she looked in the mirror only to find the other car still with her following uncomfortably close. She tried to make out the driver but couldn’t. The car had tinted glass windows that allowed those within to see out, but no one could see inside very well, especially at night.

  The car continued to follow her, increasing her nervousness. All she could observe was that it was big and dark, but she could not tell its make or model. Also, she noted with alarm, something was obscuring the license plate numbers. The car was definitely tailgating her now, flashing high beams. Her heart began to palpitate. She switched from the middle lane to the right, hoping that the other vehicle would pass, but it didn’t. Instead, it swung in right behind her.

  Kim brought her foot down heavily on the accelerator and gunned the engine. The Corolla took off like a gazelle, but the big, black car followed like a panther hungry for prey. Suddenly, it pulled into position next to her vehicle. She felt the impact before understanding intellectually what was happening. Pushing the engine for all it was worth, she lurched forward. She wasn’t far from home; soon she’d leave the highway behind. But her pursuer would not relent.

  She was driving too fast, she realized. Maybe a policeman would be monitoring the road. At this point, a ticket would be welcome. Gardner, where are you when I need you? The other car kept right up with her all the way.

  With horror, Kim saw the traffic light ahead turn red. She pulled over to the shoulder to ride down it, hoping to bypass the other cars, but in doing so, she had to slow down. The black automobile was again on her tail. It rammed the back of her Toyota not once but twice before she could speed up and get away by making a right turn. The country road she was now on was totally devoid of traffic and very dark. Her adrenaline kicked in. She began zigzagging back and forth across the road, refusing to give the other car a chance to position itself again. She knew this road and was sure her attacker did not. Tha
t might be her salvation.

  Soon there would be a bridge. She had to make her move quickly. If he caught her on the bridge, she was dead. At the next intersection, she cut off without warning, skidding across. He was still with her, but she continued making sharp turns and moving with suddenness until he was finally out of sight and she’d lost him.

  It was only then that she allowed herself the luxury of really breathing again. Her body was soaked with perspiration. Her hands ached from clutching the steering wheel so tightly. Inside, she was quaking.

  She was about to go home when she realized that anyone so committed to frightening or harming her could easily be waiting outside her apartment at this moment. Her address and phone number were listed in the directory. Where should she go?

  There was only one possible answer, although she didn’t want to accept it. She had to go to Ma where she would be safe. The Toyota seemed to return to the highway of its own accord, magically drive itself east, toward Ma, toward the Atlantic Ocean, toward peace and safety.

  * * * *

  There were lights on in the parlor. She pulled up in front of the house and got out. Neither her hands nor her legs were too steady, and her mouth was completely dry and gritty, as though she’d been lost in a Sahara sandstorm.

  Ma welcomed her. Although surprised, she didn’t ask why her daughter had come.

  “I’ve got a little problem,” Kim said by way of explanation, keeping her voice as calm as she could manage. “I want to stay the night if that’s all right.”

  “Of course, would you like something to eat or drink?”

  “No, but I need to use the phone.”

  “You should get one of those cell phones. Everyone has them these days, Even children carry them. I’m getting one for my trip down to Florida. Good to have for emergencies.”

  “You’re right, Ma. I’ll do that. Right now, though, I really need to make a phone call.”

  Ma tactfully avoided asking questions, although Kim was certain that she had many. After Ma courteously left the room, she went directly to the phone that was on a little table in the foyer between the parlor and the kitchen. Her phone call was to Lieutenant Gardner. She told him what had happened, pouring it out like pancake batter, the words sticking to each other. God, she sounded out of control! She was ashamed of herself, but could not seem to help it.

  He asked for her address and phone number. “Stay where you are,” he ordered. “I’m sending a man to keep an eye on you.”

  “It’s not necessary. Whoever this awful person is, he doesn’t know that I’m at my mother’s place. But I’ll have to return to my apartment in the morning. All my things are there.”

  “How early?”

  “Around ten o’clock.”

  “All right. I’ll post surveillance to start at nine-thirty a.m. and no arguments accepted.”

  She had no intention of arguing. What she felt was a great sense of relief.

  “Thank you. I’m very grateful.”

  “I told you before, it’s my job to help people. But you’re special.” She wanted to say that he was very special, yet held back. “I’ll see you soon.”

  She had a disturbing thought. “Wait! This person will try again, won’t he?”

  “If I had to guess, I’d say so. He or she obviously thinks you know more than you do. Guilt and fear form a volatile compound.”

  She was certain Gardner was right. Her marrow dropped to zero degrees.

  “Look, it’ll be okay. Just keep alert. I’ll be in touch soon.” With that, he clicked off. She sat staring at the phone for quite a while.

  “What now?” she asked herself aloud. Being frightened wasn’t going to help. Everything was going to be all right, she reassured herself, hugging her arms tightly around her body the way she had done when frightened as a child.

  “There are still some of your old things in the bureau upstairs. I saved that peach-colored robe you liked, and there are several nightgowns.”

  She hadn’t even heard Ma approaching.

  “I know it’s late, but I think I’d rather just sit here for a while. I’m not sleepy.”

  “Do you want to talk about your problem? I’m a good listener.”

  She remembered very well how Ma had always listened sympathetically to her problems when she was a little girl.

  “It’s worse than a bruised knee this time.”

  She saw Ma’s face sadden.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just don’t think I’m ready to discuss the matter yet is all.”

  “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  How was she supposed to answer that question? There was no point in worrying Ma if she could help it.

  “No, not really.”

  “I could always tell when you lied. You’re not very good at it. Maybe because you don’t lie often.” Ma turned a warm smile on her.

  “I don’t mean to keep you up. If you’re tired, please go to bed.”

  “Now, how often do I get to see you? Of course, I want to stay with you as long as you’ll let me.”

  Kim felt the lump forming in her throat again. She wanted to say, Ma, I love you, but she could not bring forth the words. Instead, she said, “I could do with a cup of tea.”

  Ma was immediately on the move again. It always pleased her to be doing things for other people. A few minutes later, Ma was pouring her a cup of hot tea in the kitchen.

  “Are you upset over some man?” she asked, pouring herself a cup of the amber liquid as well.

  “I don’t get involved.”

  Ma gave her a worried look. “How come? You should think about getting married.”

  Kim shook her head. “I doubt that I will.”

  “Why is that, honey?”

  “It’s not something I like to talk about or even think about.”

  “Did it have anything to do with—us?”

  She knew by us Ma meant her and Carl.

  “I guess there’s no point in dredging up the past. It’s dead and buried.” Just like Carl was.

  Ma sipped her tea reflectively. “I always wanted to protect you, but could be I only hurt you.”

  “I know you meant well. I just don’t see marriage as important in the scheme of things, at least not for me.”

  Through her mind flashed unbidden the image of a night long ago. She and Johnny Dunbar in the throes of their first love, sitting in his car kissing, hugging, petting.

  “We ought to go in now,” she told him, noting that the windows had begun to steam from the breath of their enthusiasm.

  “Not yet, Karen, not yet.” Then he’d kissed her deeply again.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  They’d jumped apart guiltily. Carl was staring into the car. He looked like an avenging ghost through the fogged glass. Johnny immediately stepped out of the car, came around and helped her out.

  “We were just saying goodnight, sir.”

  “Don’t come around here anymore! I know your kind of trash.” He seized Karen by the hand and dragged her up the porch stairs and into the house. She was mortified and protested angrily. But his anger was greater than hers.

  “No more backtalk, you hear me, you little slut!” He pulled her toward him by the hair.

  Tears formed in her eyes from the pain. She could smell alcohol on his breath and knew that he’d been drinking again. She also knew enough not to answer him; he was mean when he drank. Ma was always making excuses for him, but Carl Reyner was a bitter man with a temper that turned ugly when alcohol broke down his inhibitions.

  “Let me tell you something, little girl. You’re going to come to a bad end if you don’t watch out. I’ll be lucky if you don’t have a bastard. It’s genetics.”

  “Dad, please, we didn’t do anything.” She couldn’t stop crying.

  “Don’t let me ever see you with a boy like that again! I know what they want. And I’m not your father, so don’t call me Dad anymore.”

  He let go of her a
nd she ran from him, ran from the pain of his words, the shame and humiliation he’d made her feel. She’d never told Ma what he said to her that night. And he never referred to it. Perhaps he’d been too drunk to remember. It didn’t matter. She knew as surely as she breathed that his words were true.

  “Karen?”

  “What?”

  Ma patted her shoulder. “You looked far away.”

  “I was for a moment. Ma, I know there are things you don’t want to talk about, but I think maybe we should talk anyway. It’s time, and then some. Carl told me when I was fifteen that he wasn’t my real father.”

  Ma looked at her, obviously surprised. “He told you that? He said he never would.”

  “It’s all right. It’s better that I knew.”

  She was going to talk about Jen and what was in the diary, but Ma looked so upset at her disclosure that she felt this was not the right time.

  “Know what? I think I am tired after all. It’s been a long day.”

  “Sure, dear, we can talk more whenever you like.”

  “I have a free day after tomorrow. Maybe we can get together then. It’s time you and I had lunch out together. My treat. Just to celebrate the start of your new life in Florida.”

  * * * *

  The following morning, she drove back to her apartment. There was, in fact, a man sitting in a dark sedan on the opposite side of the street from her place. He looked very much like a policeman and she breathed a deep sigh of relief. Gardner had promised to protect her, and he was making good on his word.

  She locked her door behind her and went directly to the bathroom to take a shower. The soap and hot water both cleansed and baptized her and relaxed the knot of fear in her stomach. At noon, she lunched on cottage cheese and banana, about all she could manage to get down, then dressed for the day. Since she was meeting Don for the graduate symposium, she wanted to look attractive. She took extra pains with her appearance, using some blush and eyeliner and setting her hair with an electric brush into a softer, wavy style. She selected a short navy-blue skirt and matching blazer, choosing a red blouse to go with it. The lacy texture of the blouse added a feminine charm to the outfit without detracting from its professional aura. She’d bought the blouse on a whim but never worn it. She looked in the mirror and was well satisfied with her efforts. Whatever happened today, she was not going to act the part of a frightened mouse anymore.