by Helen Phifer
‘Good morning, Miss Green.’
The voice – so loud and unexpected – made her jump, and she turned around to see Father Anthony standing there smiling at her. He was dressed in a pair of faded jeans, with a short-sleeved, black clerical shirt. His pristine white collar so bright she wondered if he’d worn a new one just for the occasion. This made her smile. He was going to need more than that if he was to go in the house with her.
‘Father, you scared the life out of me.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t know how deep in thought you were until you jumped that high off the ground. You’d have cleared a hurdle.’
She laughed. ‘At my age that would be quite something. What are you doing here?’
‘I’ve been doing some research. After what you told me I couldn’t stop thinking about it, I spoke to the Archbishop and an old friend who has some knowledge on these matters.’
‘What did he say?’
‘Well, I’m not sure you would want me to repeat such bad language.’
‘He thinks I’m a crazy old fool?’
‘Yes.’
‘What about you? What do you think?’
He looked over at the house and crossed himself without even realizing, which confirmed what Missy suspected.
‘This is not something we can go into lightly, you understand that don’t you? I fear that if you go in there, alone and call it out, you won’t necessarily remove it.’
‘And?’
‘And, you will die.’
Missy laughed, not just a small laugh. It was a real, come from the heart, belly laugh.
‘What’s so funny?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing, I’m just nervous.’
He folded his arms across his chest and arched an eyebrow.
‘Bless you, thank you for coming to see me. I guess I’ve already resigned myself that death is inevitable, I’m just hoping that the big guy in the sky takes pity on me and lets me in. I don’t want to spend all of eternity with a beast that smells like a gone off side of beef.’
It was his turn to smile. ‘I admire your bravery, but really what we need to do is get your friend out of that building. I want you both somewhere safe, where you can both be blessed and out of harm’s way until I’m fully prepared to go in. Just a few hours will do. It’s not much to ask is it?’
Missy decided not to argue with him, for what difference would another few hours make? It had been here a long time. She pulled out her cell and rang Emilia.
‘Grab a few things, I want you to come outside and meet me. We kind of have a backup plan.’
Emilia didn’t answer and for one dreadful moment she wondered if her friend would do as she’d asked, she was probably more exhausted and tired of this than she was. Then the front door opened and she saw Emilia. Missy waved to her. There was a loud crack as though a bolt of lightning had struck the chimney of the house. Missy looked up to see chunks of masonry begin to cascade and that one of the large chimney pots was balancing on the edge of the roof. In a matter of seconds it was going to collapse directly onto Emilia. Father Anthony began to run across the road, but it was too far. The heavy, stone chimney came crashing down. Missy screamed. Unable to look she turned her head. Not seeing the pair of strong arms that wrapped themselves around her friend’s frail shoulders, dragging her back inside the entrance of the house. The chimney pot whistled past her head, hitting the concrete steps with such force it shattered into a million pieces, taking a huge chunk out of them. She heard Anthony’s voice as he shouted.
‘She’s okay, she’s not hurt. You stay there.’
Not about to argue with him, she watched as he clambered over the shattered chimney pot to help Emilia over it. Behind her was Mikey, he waved at her and she mouthed thank you to him. The two men towered over Emilia as they half led, half carried her across the street to where Missy was standing.
Mikey spoke. ‘It’s scared, so it’s trying to fight back the only way it can. We need to send that mother-fucker back to where it belongs once and for all. So what’s the plan?’
Siren’s blared in the distance, there was quite a crowd gathering to look at the mess across the road. Anthony hailed a passing cab and bundled them all into it.
‘Saint Patrick’s Old Cathedral, please.’
They sat in silence until the taxi stopped outside the church. If the taxi driver thought they were an odd bunch he never said anything. Two old women, a black man and a priest. Missy smiled. There was a joke in there somewhere. As it was they were an unlikely bunch, united through fate to do God’s work and she found a small measure of comfort in that thought. Anthony paid the cab driver and ushered them out, instead of walking to the huge front doors he led them to a red door further along. Opening it with a key he held it open, waving them through before closing it behind them. Missy looked around at the beautiful, leafy garden. It was like they’d stepped through a doorway in time, back to when there were no cars polluting the city streets. There was a narrow, twisty path and Anthony led them along it until it opened up to an imposing, rough, cut stone building that mirrored the cathedral. It too had a blood-red door steeped with shiny, green Boston Ivy growing around it. Anthony opened the door with another key.
Stepping inside he shouted, ‘Father, I have some visitors. Is it okay to come in?’ They were greeted by a gruff voice and Missy wasn’t sure if it had sworn at them. Anthony smiled. ‘He sounds like an ogre, but he’s not. He hates being disturbed, but I think he will want to hear what we have to tell him.’ Missy wasn’t so sure, but right now they needed all the help they could get and if she had to talk to a miserable son of a bitch priest then she would. Anthony led them into the most beautiful, oak panelled library that Missy had ever seen. She’d thought the library at Emilia’s house had been wonderful, the hours she’d spent in there choosing which books to read were too many to count. This had floor to ceiling shelves and glass display cabinets full to the brim with books. Sitting at the desk near to the window was a grey-haired man wearing a roll neck jumper despite the warmth of the day outside. On his gnarled, liver-stained hands was a pair of fingerless gloves. He peered over the top of his wire rimmed oval glasses and Missy wondered where she’d seen him before. He looked so familiar or was it because it was the middle of summer and he was dressed like Ebenezer Scrooge? He looked at them in turn, spending the longest moment staring back at her.
‘What are you doing bringing this band of trouble to my door, Anthony?’
He was blunt and Emilia looked at Missy, her face a picture which in turn made Missy laugh. Mikey who hadn’t spoken a word since he’d dragged Emilia out of harm’s way looked at Missy as if to ask ‘What the hell?’ She shrugged, they couldn’t argue with the man. They were trouble and he didn’t look the least bit interested in them.
‘I think you’re going to want to hear this lady’s story. This is Emilia Carter. She lives in the house on West 10th Street.’
Missy wondered how on earth that was supposed to explain anything, but for the first time Father Morgan’s eyes opened wide as he sat up straighter.
‘The house?’
Anthony nodded. Father Morgan stared at Emilia as if she’d suddenly grown another head or a pair of wings.
‘You’re Emilia Carter? Well, I never, you still live there. How long has it been?’
‘All my life. Why, what do you care?’
He laughed and his face broke into a smile, he didn’t look quite so terrifying.
‘I care more than you would ever know. You don’t remember do you? I completely understand why. I’ve been keeping a watch on that house since 1952. I didn’t know if it was a rumour or if that meddling Mrs Smith had only made things worse.’
Suddenly Missy remembered where she knew him from, he was the priest who had paid them a fleeting visit. He looked a lot different now, and then she caught sight of her reflection in the large mirror on the wall above his desk and had to do a double take. For a split second she was looking at her much younger, prettier s
elf. She blinked and that woman was replaced with the grey-haired, wrinkled woman she was today. That was what life was like, it went in the blink of an eye. A wave of sadness engulfed her; she’d wasted so much of her life being afraid. She turned to Emilia and wondered if she felt the same. It was a testament to God and their stubbornness that they were both still alive.
Emilia was staring at the man, who pointed to the couch. ‘Please, sit down. Forgive my grouchiness, I’m no longer a morning or a people person come to think of it. I spent a good many years of my life doing God’s work until it got too much. Now I take care of the library, it’s my pride and joy. There are books in here the Vatican have been trying to get hold of. They’re not getting them, I can tell you that. Well, not at least until I die then I can’t do much about it. I also have some books in here the big guys don’t know about and wouldn’t be too happy with.’
Missy wondered if the grumpy guy was senile as well, it was Mikey who finally spoke.
‘What has this got to do with the situation we’re in now and why would you be watching that damn house. Who are you?’
Anthony stood up, his face burning. ‘Sorry, how rude of me.’ Missy shook her head, they were all a little bit highly strung today. She crossed the room to where Father Morgan was sitting and held out her hand.
‘Missy Green, former housekeeper for Miss Emilia and the gentleman is Mikey who is a current tenant in the house. What’s your name because I refuse to spend the next hour calling you Father?’
‘Missy, Mikey, Emilia.’ He nodded at the three of them. ‘You can call me Charlie. If you aren’t an unlikely bunch of heroes I don’t know who is. You don’t look anything like Venkman, Stantz and Spengler.’ He began to laugh so hard at his joke it made him start coughing. Emilia and Missy stared at the man as if he was speaking a different language. Mikey started laughing.
‘We aint afraid of no ghost. Man, we definitely don’t look like Ghostbusters and that’s because we aint.’
‘You might not think so, but I have bad news for you. I guess you’ve heard the saying God works in mysterious ways. Well it’s true, sometimes he has a sense of humour. This is probably why he’s chosen you three to take a stand. I take it the entity your brother summoned, Emilia, on that fateful night never actually went away. That you couldn’t see it, but you knew that it was there. Lingering in the background, biding its time. You’ve been living under its shadow for a long time, but that’s what they do. They’re like a cancerous tumour sucking all the goodness out of your body, your mind, it’s probably been oppressing you all your life.’
Mikey who had never spoken more than a few words to Emilia until the other day looked at her, she began to blink manically as a tear fell from the corner of her eye. Missy reached out her hand, clasping hold of Emilia’s.
‘I should have known, I should have investigated it myself. I trusted that Mrs Smith had done the job for the church, she prided herself on helping the people the church wouldn’t. I was too young and inexperienced.’
‘Why wouldn’t the church want to help anyone living with such a horrible thing?’
Father Anthony spoke. ‘It would open up the floodgates for every crackpot in the entire world. Of course, the church is well aware these demons exist. But to publicly announce it would cause panic and every mentally ill person who needs a psych evaluation would be dropped at our door. We don’t have the capacity to fulfil that role. What we do is take each case on its own merit, we have to investigate, send out a psychologist to assess if the person is off their meds or not. When we have proof the Archbishop then gives his blessing for an exorcist to step in.’
Emilia’s body shook and her voice trembled. ‘If I’d have asked the church to help would they?’
Charlie nodded. ‘In this case, at the beginning probably not. I’m sorry, I should have been honest with you, but I was young and very inexperienced back then.’
‘Why?’
‘Your brother displayed all the signs of a classic psychosis, the police reports said as much. That he was having a psychotic episode on the night he killed Mae Evans. They didn’t believe it had anything to do with devil worship or summoning a demon despite the pentagram drawn in blood and the presence of the Ouija board. The cops prefer things to be cut and dried, they would have been torn to shreds by the papers if they hadn’t sent your brother to Greystone’s.’
Emilia sat down, she was wringing her hands and Missy felt bad.
‘Why didn’t you speak to us or the police if you thought there was something going on?’
‘I did, I spoke at great length to your father. It was him who gave me permission to see copies of the psychiatrist’s reports. On paper it seemed as if the police were right.’
‘But…?’
He let out a loud sigh. ‘I didn’t think they were telling the whole truth, something about it wasn’t right. I went back into your house with your father, I couldn’t get any further than the first floor. I felt as if I was going to have a heart attack and die. I got clammy, I felt sick, I was dizzy and the smell of rotting flesh and sulphur was too much for me. I’m ashamed to say that I ran out of your house and never went back. I was young, scared and fascinated so I began to research it as much as I could. Mrs Smith told me that I should stop being a dress-wearing bible basher and face the truth. That there were things in this world beyond the church’s control.’
Missy looked at him. ‘She was right, she had to battle to close the portal that James opened up. She told me afterwards that she’d had to call on all of her spirit guides to help her fight it. If you’d helped her would it have made a difference?’
He shrugged. ‘Mrs Smith did a very good job, better than I would have done. I wasn’t a trained exorcist back then.’
‘But you are now?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, although I’ve stepped back from that line of work. I’m too old to be fighting with anyone, let alone a demon.’
‘Are you going to help us?’ Missy needed to know. For the love of God he didn’t look any younger than she was.
He paused, looked at Anthony and nodded. ‘I’m going to advise you.’
Mikey began to laugh. ‘And what the fuck good is that going to do? Pardon my language, Father.’
‘I have been teaching Anthony everything he needs to know.’
Missy stood up. ‘Forget it, the church didn’t help last time. We don’t need your help this time. You’re telling me you’ve had a vested interest in that house for sixty five years. Yet you’re going to hide away in the comfort of this house and let us do the rest. For Christ’s sake what’s the worst that can happen? In case you haven’t noticed between the three of us we’re ancient, we all got to die some time and I’m afraid it could be anytime. Why the hell would you want to send Anthony in to do a job you could do with your eyes shut. You’re putting him and us at risk. Have you done this before, Anthony?’
She turned to stare at him, her arms folded across her chest. He shook his head. ‘No, but I can. Charlie has taught me well.’
She shook her head. ‘Jeez, what a pair of assholes. No offence guys, but I think we’ll manage. Emilia, Mikey, let’s go.’
She turned to walk out of the door when a voice bellowed at her.
‘Stop.’
She turned around and felt her heart sink. Charlie wasn’t sitting in a conventional chair. He wheeled himself around from behind the desk and she stared at the missing gap where his right leg should have been. Now she felt like an asshole. She hadn’t noticed. How would he even get up to the attic?
‘I have an unfortunate disadvantage due to the diabetes I developed in my seventies and yes, you’re right, I’m pretty sure that at some point in the near future one or all of us are going to die, but not at the doing of a demon. I would like nothing more than to go in there and do battle, it would be fun to have one last showdown with one of Satan’s creatures. I’m also no fool. I’m a weak link in the chain and it would seize the moment the minute it sensed I had entered the hous
e. This is between Emilia and you. The pair of you fought it the first time and did a pretty good job of sealing it inside the portal. Whoever decided to reopen it knew exactly what they were doing. ‘
He waved an old, cracked, black leather book at her. ‘The ritual requires three sacrifices, now I don’t know why a third wasn’t done after the last one. Maybe it’s because they got cold feet or got locked up for something else. What I do know is that it’s getting stronger, which means something is happening. I wouldn’t be surprised if another sacrifice was imminent.’
Mikey looked at the priest and shook his head. ‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Sacrifices, demons, Ouija boards, that’s some bad shit going on there. How do I live in a house of evil and not know any of this?’
Charlie shrugged. ‘Some people are oblivious to it all and some people are very sensitive. It’s life. Some people like mustard on their hot dogs others don’t.’
The room fell silent as they all contemplated the fact that this was all very real. It was Emilia who broke it.
‘I’ve had enough of this. So, Charlie, what the fuck do I have to do to claim my house back?’
Chapter Forty-Three
Maria could feel the soft, sagging mattress under her. How had she got into bed? Had she passed out and Frankie had found her? She tried to open her eyes, but one of them was sealed shut. Blinking the other she tried to focus on the darkness that surrounded her. The air in the room was heavy with the stench of decomposition and she felt her stomach clench, her gag reflex kicked in. As the back of her throat filled with bile, her tongue moved forward and stopped. She couldn’t move her mouth or her tongue to be sick. She lay still, trying not to breathe too deeply because then the smell would penetrate her nostrils again and make her sick. The gag choking her to death on her own vomit. Her chest began to fill with the fluttering, wings of panic. There were only two times in her life she’d ever felt like this, both in her childhood. She didn’t panic. As an adult it was one of her rules, but the alarm bells were ringing in her head. She knew that she was in a dire situation that was going to end badly if she didn’t stay calm. She closed her other eye, she would pretend she was still unconscious. She needed to think, she wasn’t in her bed because that was much firmer, so she was in an unknown place that smelt strongly of death with a gag in her mouth. She knew it was futile, but still tried to move her arms and legs as slowly as she could without alerting her captor to the fact that she was awake. The rope bit into the soft, flesh of her wrists. Fear rushed through her veins, she was not only tied and gagged, but spread-eagled on the bed. She was cold, but not shivering so at least she was still fully dressed. She still had some dignity which was good. If her asshole colleagues were going to find her body she’d still have some pride. Bad enough to die this way, never mind be gawped at and photographed a thousand times by the jerks she worked with. This thought alone was enough to focus her mind – it wasn’t going to happen, not like this. She hadn’t really got a good look at the guy who had been in her apartment. She tried not to shudder at the thought of Anya’s decomposing head in her cooler. Anya. Jesus, she knew exactly where she was, and she had to stifle a cry. She was in the attic apartment of the house on West 10th.
