The House on West 10th Street

by Helen Phifer

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It’s the kind of place you only live if there’s nowhere else. That’s all.’

  ‘Have you lived here long?’

  He put his hands on his hips and she took a step back.

  ‘Ten years. Now you gonna let me get on my way?’

  ‘Yes, sorry. Thanks.’

  He turned, striding away from her as fast as he could. She wondered what he meant and walked down the steps, pressing several buzzers in the hope that someone would let her in. She heard the door click and pushed it open, then as she stepped inside the memories of that night three years ago flooded her mind. She felt her body shudder, not sure if it was a replay from the past or the fact that this place truly freaked her out. Until now she’d forgotten how she’d felt when she’d first entered the house. It was creepy as fuck, there was no doubt about it. There was a faint smell of cannabis lingering in the air, mixed with fried onions. They were masking an underlying odour of something damp and rotten, she wondered if the whole block was full of dry rot. There was something wrong with this place. She didn’t know what, but it gave her a bad feeling. It was so quiet in here it was eerie. You wouldn’t believe it homed at least ten residents. She began to climb the stairs wondering which apartment the guy she’d stopped on the street lived in. As she reached the third floor she stared at the apartment and hoped the woman would still be there. Before she could knock on the heavy, black oak door it opened a crack and she pulled out her badge, holding it up.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Good afternoon ma’am, NYPD Homicide. Could I speak to you about the murder three years ago?’

  A thin hand reached through the gap in the door and took the badge out of her hand. After a few seconds the door opened and a frailer looking version of the woman she’d interviewed that night stared at her.

  ‘I remember you.’

  Maria smiled. ‘I remember you too. Could I come inside for a few minutes?’

  She thought the door was about to slam shut in her face, but it didn’t and the woman stepped back allowing her inside. It was gloomy in the hallway and the first thing she noticed was the number of crucifixes hung on the wall and above each doorway. The woman led her into a spacious living room which had a huge crucifix hanging above the fireplace. Maria tried not to take too much notice of it, religion was a sticky subject for her. The woman pointed to a chair and she sat down, relieved it wasn’t facing the enormous cross.

  ‘So, what do you want? I spoke to you when it happened, you never caught him.’

  There was no arguing with the woman in front of her, she didn’t catch him that was very true.

  ‘I’m afraid we didn’t, you’re right. Sometimes they get away.’

  The woman nodded. ‘Sometimes they have a little help.’

  Maria frowned, not sure what she meant. ‘Have you lived her long, Mrs…?’

  The woman began to laugh. ‘Miss Carter you can call me Emilia. Yes, I’ve lived here all my life and that’s a very long time.’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘I moved in here permanently when I was twenty-two.’

  Maria tried to work out how old Emilia was, failing miserably.

  ‘Sixty five years to be exact. I’ve been here since I was twenty-two and never left.’

  ‘Wow that’s a lot of rent.’

  Emilia shook her head. ‘I don’t pay rent, this house belongs to me.’

  Maria was shocked, the woman had never mentioned it the last time she’d spoken to her.

  ‘So, you remember the murder in the fifties?’

  Her already watery, dark brown eyes blinked several times.

  ‘Yes I do, as if it was yesterday.’

  There was a loud dragging noise on the ceiling above them and Emilia looked up horrified.

  ‘No one lives up there. It’s empty, it has been since the night of the murder.’

  ‘Someone must have broken in?’

  Emilia shook her head. ‘No-one lives there, no-one wants to live there. It’s haunted.’

  She stated the fact as if she was telling her it was cold outside or rain had been forecast.

  ‘I don’t understand. Has anyone been in and checked there isn’t anyone squatting up there?’

  Emilia nodded. ‘More times than you can ever imagine. It’s always the same. Scratching, dragging, knocks, bangs, the footsteps are the worst. Heavy, clattering footsteps, but not the kind that you or me would make. Oh no, these sound like hooves, stomping on the wooden floorboards and always at the same time. 3am is when it likes to get busy.’

  Maria could feel the hairs on the back of her neck begin to prickle, a feeling of unease spreading over her. Did the woman in front of her have some kind of dementia?

  ‘Right now you’re considering if I’m a crazy old bat aren’t you? Trust me honey I’m not, I’ve lived with it all my life. I knew it was a mistake renting the attic apartment out, but the realtors who handle the rentals insisted. They had someone come in and paint all the walls white, sand the floors, clean the windows. It looked good enough, I even went up there to take a peek. I hadn’t been up there for over fifty years. I couldn’t go inside because no matter what they did to it. I’d never get that image out of my head.’

  ‘What image was that?’

  A loud scratching on the ceiling directly above where they were sitting made even Maria jump from her chair. The woman crossed herself and shook her head. ‘I don’t talk about it and neither should you. I need you to leave now, I don’t want to upset it any further. You don’t have to live here, I do.’

  She stood up and Maria did the same, not sure what was going on as Emilia led her to the front door.

  ‘Thank you.’ Unsure what she was thanking her for she passed her a card. ‘If you do decide you want to talk, call me. That’s my cell. Anytime. Oh, one last thing, who’s the guy with the dreadlocks?’

  ‘Mikey.’ The woman took the card from her, slamming her apartment door shut.

  Maria couldn’t ignore the fact that she’d clearly heard someone moving around in the empty apartment above them. She had to check it out whether the old lady wanted her to or not, it was her duty. Turning to make sure she wasn’t being watched by Emilia she began to walk up the next flight of steps. Shivering, she felt the goose bumps which had broken out all over her arms. That lady had unnerved her.

  As she reached the small landing she wondered why it was so dark up here; even if it was empty it wouldn’t cost much to run a single bulb to illuminate the place. A faint whiff of sulphur and rotten eggs filled the air. Maybe there was a gas leak. For the second time in less than an hour she wished she’d waited for Frankie to come back from the dentist before coming here. She stood staring at the door, forcing herself to walk towards it. She had to drag her legs which had turned into lead weights. When she was as close to the door as she could be she turned her head, placing her ear against the wood to listen. The foreboding sense of dread which shrouded her entire body made her knees go weak. Her gut instinct was telling her to get the hell out of there, her stubborn mind ignored it. She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating. The image of a huge, cloven-hoofed beast filled it. She had a vision of it standing on the other side of the door, imitating her and waiting for her to make her next move. The smell of rotten eggs was emanating through the cracks around the door and she wondered if there was another body in there. She couldn’t go in without a warrant, more to the point she didn’t know if she was brave enough to go in there with no back up. Her stomach a mass of churning knots, she straightened up and stepped away from the door. If she was going in it was with a couple of officers. And a priest, a voice whispered in her ear. She turned away walking briskly to the stairs, and on running back down them she heard a faint scratching. Like razor, sharp talons being dragged across wood. Maria didn’t stop, she was well and truly getting out of there. How the fuck Emilia had lived in that house for sixty-five years without losing her mind was a miracle. As she reached the ground floor the gu
y with the dreadlocks, Mikey, was opening one of the apartment doors. He took one look at her pale face and wide eyes then shook his head.

  ‘I told you this place was full of bad shit.’

  Maria nodded, forcing herself to walk out of the door when what she really wanted to do was run as fast as she could and never look back.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Frankie arrived back at the station with a fat lip, just as Maria pulled up. Smiling at him, he nodded and the pair of them walked up the steps together. He waited until they were alone.

  ‘Do you want to tell me why you look so terrified?’

  Maria cursed his perception. ‘Do I?’

  He nodded. It was pointless lying to him because he’d never shut up.

  ‘I went to pay the old lady a visit at the house.’

  ‘You need to give me more than that. What old lady? Which house?’

  ‘The house on West 10th Street.’

  She held her breath, waiting for the lecture about going out alone, being careless. It didn’t come, instead he put his hand on her arm.

  ‘What happened?’

  She looked around to make sure there was no-one in hearing distance.

  ‘I don’t know exactly, but that house is creepy as fuck. I went there to talk to the woman in the apartment below the attic.’

  ‘I remember her, she was a grouchy old bird.’

  ‘Not only did she remember the first murder, she owns the damn building and was there when it happened.’

  ‘Well, maybe we should bring her in for questioning. There can’t be that many people alive who remember what happened the first time around.’

  Maria was shocked; it hadn’t even crossed her mind that the frail woman could be the one responsible for the horrific murders.

  ‘Are you for real? She’s almost ninety.’

  ‘Age is just a number, she might be fitter than the pair of us. It’s not unheard of.’

  ‘Nah, it’s not her. You didn’t see the look of fear on her face.’

  ‘Why was she scared?’

  ‘You promise you won’t laugh?’

  He rolled his eyes.

  ‘There was this dragging and scratching sound on the ceiling above in the empty apartment, it made the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.’

  ‘It’s an old house, Maria, it probably has rats the size of alley cats. If the attic doesn’t get used for years on end they’ll be running riot up there.’

  Maria thought about it. This could be very true. Hell, it probably was very true, but her stomach was rolling around like a lead ball. When this happened it normally meant her gut was telling her what to believe. It didn’t believe that what she’d heard was a rat. About to tell Frankie this, she changed her mind. She wasn’t in the mood for him to march her back there to go and check because he would. She didn’t want to set foot inside that house again unless she had to.

  ‘I guess you’re right.’

  ‘Of course, I’m right, baby, I always am.’

  She stepped forward and slapped his arm. ‘Christ, you’re so full of shit.’ But she couldn’t help laughing and felt better. She’d spooked herself and that crazy old woman with her room full of crucifixes hadn’t helped. They walked along the corridor to reach the unit which was busy, both went to their desks and sat down. Neither of them spoke as they didn’t want the others to know what they were working on.

  After an hour Maria looked up to see Frankie who was standing up, tugging on his coat.

  ‘Come on, I’ve had enough of this place. My face is aching. Let’s go to the Cat and talk in there. Maybe we should see if we can get Max to meet us and we can hear everything she has to say.’

  She stood up, for once she wanted to go and get a cold beer. Maybe even a cocktail or two and it would be good to meet the girl who had thought the case was important enough to drag it all up and get them reassigned to it.

  The Cat had its regular crowd of patrons in there, propping up the bar. Inhaling the aroma of hamburger and fried onions, Maria hadn’t realized she was hungry until her stomach let out a loud growl. She walked to the bar signalling for Frankie to take a seat, he was on the phone to Max. He stuck his thumb up at her so she ordered two bottles of Bud and a cheeseburger with fries, onion rings and almost everything else she could think of. Placing a beer in front of Frankie, he nodded.

  ‘My mouth is still swollen, forgive me if I drool.’

  She laughed. ‘Well there’s something you don’t hear every day. So what did she say?’

  ‘I haven’t lost my charm, she’ll be here in thirty minutes.’

  ‘Good, that means I’ll have enough time to eat my burger before she comes and puts me off it.’

  Frankie groaned. ‘I want food, but I can’t chew yet.’

  ‘You can have some of mine, your mouth should be working properly by the time they bring it out.’

  They sat in silence, sipping their beers waiting for Max to arrive. The bartender, who neither of them had seen before, brought Maria’s food over. Frankie stared, his mouth open wide. She grabbed a couple of French fries and pushed them into her mouth.

  ‘What you staring at?’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re eating without me.’

  ‘Get over it. Here.’ She pushed the plate towards him and he picked up the biggest onion ring on the plate.

  ‘Hi, are you Frankie?’

  Maria couldn’t help it, she let out a giggle. His already swollen face was bulging at the sides, making him look like a hamster stocking up for hibernation. He nodded, pointing at Maria.

  ‘You must be Max, I’m his partner, Maria. Pleased to meet you.’ She held out her hand and the woman, who had to only be in her early twenties shook it.

  ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

  She shrugged. ‘I hope it isn’t all bad, your dad doesn’t always see the best in me.’

  The girl threw her head back and began to laugh, a real hearty, laugh which instantly made Maria like her. When she’d composed herself, she spoke. ‘He doesn’t always see the best in anyone. But he’s not that bad, he could be worse I suppose. At least he’s taken me seriously which caught me by surprise. I thought he’d tell me to stop interfering when I showed him the clippings.’

  ‘He did. So seriously that he’s given me and hamster boy here a few weeks to reopen the case.’

  The girl sat down next to Frankie, Maria picked up the burger and took a huge bite. Frankie picked up his beer.

  ‘So we’ve heard the condensed version from your old man, now we’d like to hear the full length one.’

  Maria held up her hands. ‘Please let me finish my food before the gory details come out. Frankie where’s your manners? Go and get Max a drink.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  He opened his eyes and wondered where he was; it was dark and he could feel a firm mattress beneath him. The beads of sweat on his forehead and his pounding heart brought back the memories of the nightmare he’d struggled to wake from. He was in a cave, far below the ground where a fire was burning so hot he had felt the heat from the flames scorching his skin. The cave had been full of dark, wispy shadows that moved and changed shape. He’d thought he recognized the outline of his mother and walked towards it only for it to dissipate. Just like she had been when she was alive: never there for him, not interested in his life, not interested in him. Why would she be there for him now she was dead? There was an old, cracked wooden door and he headed towards it. Needing to get out of the suffocating darkness, he heard the scratching behind him. Loud, claw-like, dragging sounds against the rock face of the cave. For the first time he’d felt terror at what was making the sound. It had scared him so much that it woke him up. He remembered where he was, he was in the apartment. Asleep on the bed where he’d last slept with the beautiful girl, Anya, before he’d killed her. He wondered if Anya was trapped in here, her soul unable to leave because of what he’d done to her. The apartment had been used for satanic rituals and murders, no-one wanted to liv
e in here because of the bad vibes. So what was he doing here? In a rare moment of lucidity, he knew he should leave and get as far away from here as possible. He’d managed to survive three years without being caught for Anya’s murder. She’d picked him up in the Russian bar on 52nd Street. He’d been waiting for his date who hadn’t turned up and she’d been waiting tables. When she’d finished work she came and sat with him, he’d been mesmerised by her beauty. A sharp pang of guilt stabbed him through his heart. This had been his apartment. He’d brought her back here where they’d spent twenty-four hours making love and drinking vodka. She’d told him about the voices she heard in here. Whispers that she couldn’t understand and at first, he’d thought she’d been crazy, but two days later when she’d gone to work and he’d been here alone he’d heard them. Faint at first, hard to understand, they were in a language that he’d never heard before. Once he’d realized he could hear the whispering, it got louder as if it knew it had his attention. He’d heard his name called several times and at one point had thought Anya had returned. Realising that she hadn’t, he then proceeded to search the entire apartment only to find nothing. He was alone.

  It had been none of his business, he knew that now. He should have walked away and none of this would have happened. He would still have a job, an apartment, Anya would still be alive. He wouldn’t be back here where it all began a very long time ago. It was like a sickness, this obsession to come back here. The atmosphere up here was heavy; even in his shorts and t-shirt it felt as if he was cloaked in darkness. This apartment was all he’d thought about whilst in the psych ward. When the police had picked him up he had no ID on him and gave them false details so they wouldn’t be able to trace him to the apartment. He’d never been in trouble before, never had his prints taken, the officers thought he was mental, all they’d wanted was to get him off their hands so they could finish their shift. Even though he knew it was wrong he had wanted to be back here. Now that he was, he knew it wasn’t going to end well. There would be more deaths. There had to be – it had been written in blood. Whatever it was that had been summoned many years ago was here. Lurking in the shadows, waiting to be called forward into the light to dominate and take over. As scared as he was, he couldn’t stop it because it knew his name, it knew every part of him and wouldn’t let him go. He was a pawn in this game between good and evil, fighting on the side of the darkness that he knew would consume him and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it.