The Red Hotel

by Graham Masterton

  ‘The cops? First of all we would have to convince them that it’s possible to walk through walls.’

  ‘But it is possible. You’ve done it. I’ve seen you do it. And you can physically show them, can’t you? They would have to believe you if they saw it for themselves.’

  ‘Yes, but then there’s the problem of Vanessa Slider. Shem may still be flesh and blood, but Vanessa is only a supernatural resonance – a ghost, if you like, a spirit. A very strong spirit, I grant you. She’s brought back an entire hotel, out of the past. But how can we persuade the police to open hostage negotiations with a woman who’s been dead for over a decade?’

  Just as they were crossing the lobby, one of the night-shift girls came out of the staff quarters with a maid’s red dress folded over her arm. She gave it to Everett and Everett gave it to Sissy. ‘Not exactly your style, Sissy, but I guess it’ll do for now.’

  They returned to his office and Sissy went through to his bathroom and washed herself and changed. She deliberately didn’t look at herself in the mirror. She was afraid that she would either appear pale and ghastly or else she would look as if nothing had happened to her at all, and she didn’t know which would be worse.

  When she came out of the bathroom Everett was standing by his desk, holding a large color photograph. ‘Take a look at this,’ he told her, and passed it over.

  Sissy put on her spectacles. The picture was captioned Mardi Gras Festival, Hotel Rouge, 1986. It had been taken in front of the hotel bar, and showed a crowd of people in fancy dress, with masks and feathers and balloons, all raising champagne glasses. In the center of the group, Sissy recognized Vanessa Slider, with her husband, Gerard, standing beside her in a white tuxedo.

  There were ten or more girls in the picture, some black, some white, most of them attractive, and all of them wearing very skimpy costumes. One of them was standing even closer to Gerard Slider than Vanessa, but he had his arm hooked tightly around her waist, and from the way that she had her head tilted away from him she looked as if she were trying to twist herself free. She had a sparkly sequin crown on top of her head, and a sparkly sequin bra, and a sequin G-string. She was staring straight into the camera, unsmiling, unlike all of the other girls, but Gerard was looking sideways at her, and the expression on his face was both lustful and possessive.

  ‘Remind you of anyone, that girl next to Gerard Slider?’ asked Everett.

  Sissy lifted her spectacles a little so that she could focus on the girl more sharply. She was blonde, with high cheekbones, a short straight nose and full, pouting lips. She had very large breasts and very long legs. The camera flash had made everybody’s eyes red, so it was impossible to tell what color her eyes were, but her face was so distinctive that Sissy could guess.

  ‘She’s the spit of T-Yon. If this caption didn’t say nineteen eighty-six, I’d have said that she was T-Yon.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Everett. ‘I couldn’t credit it myself, when I saw it. But I don’t think there’s any doubt about it. That girl there – that’s our mom.’

  ‘You thought she went out cleaning every night.’

  ‘You can say it, Sissy. She’s long dead now. She told us she was out cleaning but all the time she was a hooker.’

  Sissy looked at the other girls in the photograph. She thought she recognized one of them, a tall black girl standing behind the bar. She had beaded cornrows, and she bore a very strong resemblance to the girl whose severed head had been staring at her from one of the gurneys.

  ‘What did your mom die of?’ asked Sissy. ‘Did anybody ever tell you? She died very young, didn’t she?’

  ‘Pneumonia, that’s what they told us.’

  ‘Pneumonia. That figures. It’s a very common cause of death in people suffering from AIDS.’

  Sissy passed the photograph back. ‘This could be Vanessa Slider’s motive for wanting her revenge on you and T-Yon. If your mom had AIDS, she could have given it to Gerard Slider, and that could have been what killed him.

  ‘Even if she couldn’t manage to take personal revenge on your mom, it certainly seems like she took her revenge on every other hooker she could lay her hands on. Do you know what they were doing, down in that kitchen? They were cutting the flesh from those women’s bodies and grinding it up like hamburger.’

  Everett sat down, staring at the photograph of his mother as if he never wanted to take his eyes off it again.

  ‘Mom,’ he said, and touched her image with his fingertips.

  Sissy said, ‘You see that girl with the cornrows, behind the bar? I think I saw her body down there. So I don’t think that Vanessa Slider is killing hookers now . . . what I saw was the hookers that she killed in the past. The past and the present, they’re happening side by side.’

  ‘To think we never knew what she was doing to take care of us, me and T-Yon.’

  ‘You’re not angry with her, are you?’

  Everett had tears in his eyes. ‘How could I be angry? She was the best mom we could have wished for. She looked after us the only way she knew how, and it cost her her life.’

  Sissy said, ‘I’m going to need some help to rescue T-Yon.’

  ‘What kind of help?’

  ‘Can you drive me back to Luther’s house? I need to tell his wife Shatoya what’s happened to him. I also need to talk to Luther’s Aunt Epiphany.’

  ‘Aunt Epiphany the voodoo queen?’

  ‘That’s the one.’

  ‘You think she can help you?’

  ‘I don’t know, Everett. But right now I’m willing to try anything. Even voodoo.’

  It was ten after two in the morning when they arrived at the Broody house on Drehr Avenue, and all of the windows were dark. Sissy and Everett climbed the steps to the porch and Sissy rang the door chimes. They stood waiting in the darkness with the endless rasping of insects all around them.

  Sissy had to ring twice more before the hall light was switched on, and the front door was opened. Shatoya was standing in front of them in a yellow candlewick robe, her hair all tied up in bows, blinking at them.

  ‘Sissy! I thought Luther had forgotten his key again!’

  ‘I’m so sorry to wake you,’ said Sissy.

  ‘And Mr Everett!’

  ‘Hallo, Shatoya.’

  Shatoya looked out across the driveway. ‘Where’s Luther? Didn’t Luther come back with you?’

  ‘I think we’d better go inside,’ said Sissy. ‘Something terrible has happened.’

  She had to lie. She didn’t tell Shatoya about them going through the wall to the Hotel Rouge, in search of T-Yon. She didn’t tell her about Vanessa Slider, either, or the kitchen, or the bodies that they had seen there.

  She explained instead that Luther had been stabbed by an unknown assailant in the hotel kitchen and that paramedics had pronounced him dead at the scene. His body had been taken to the morgue and she would be allowed to see him tomorrow sometime.

  ‘Why haven’t the police come to tell me?’ asked Shatoya. She was gray with shock. ‘Don’t they have any idea who stabbed him? And why? Luther never hurt a fly!’

  ‘The police should be round to see you later,’ said Everett. Sissy could tell that he was just as uncomfortable as she was, not telling Shatoya the truth, but they both knew that she wouldn’t be able to understand it or accept it. It was hard enough believing it themselves.

  On their way there, Sissy had said to Everett, ‘Remember, the most important thing is for us to save T-Yon – and to keep you alive, too. The truth can come later.’

  They were still talking when they heard a cough. Aunt Epiphany was rustling down the stairs in a long black satin robe, with a silver satin scarf tied around her head.

  ‘It’s two thirty in the morning,’ she said. ‘What’s going on here?’ She lifted her head and sniffed and said, ‘Something mauvais, by the feel of it.

  She came across the living room, trailing a strong waft of musky perfume behind her, and sat down next to Shatoya. She put one arm around
her and said, ‘What? Has something happened to Luther?’

  Shatoya managed to choke out, ‘He’s dead, Epiphany. Somebody stabbed him.’

  ‘Oh my Lord! No! Who did it? Where? At the hotel?’

  Tears rolled down Shatoya’s cheeks and all she could do was nod. Aunt Epiphany held her tight and shushed her and then said, ‘O seven powers who are so close to our divine Savior, with great humility I ask you to grant this poor woman peace in her hour of grief.’

  Sissy waited for a while as Epiphany rocked Shatoya in her arms. Then she said, ‘Epiphany . . . why don’t you and me go into the kitchen and make Shatoya some tea. She doesn’t want to hear all of this again.’

  Aunt Epiphany said, ‘Would you like some tea, Shatoya? I make you some of my kava kava.’

  Shatoya nodded again, and Aunt Epiphany followed Sissy into the kitchen. She filled the kettle and switched it on, and then turned to Sissy and said, ‘What really happen? You want to speak to me alone for a special reason, yes?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ said Sissy. ‘I think I could use your help. Quite frankly, I don’t know who else to turn to.’

  As briefly as she could, she explained how she and Luther had gone through the wall and down to the kitchen in the Hotel Rouge. Aunt Epiphany listened impassively, except for one raised eyebrow, perfectly plucked. She spooned kava kava powder into a large green teapot and listened while Sissy told her about the bodies on the gurneys, and how Luther had been stabbed by Shem, and about the photograph that Everett had found, with his mother standing next to Gerard Slider.

  When Sissy had finished, she said, ‘I told you I should have come with you when this girl first went missing. What you and Luther did, you were both very brave. But to be brave is not enough when you are fighting against a spirit so vengeful.’

  Sissy said, ‘You’re right. I’ve come across all kinds of gone-beyonders, and some of them have been bitter beyond belief, but I’ve never known one as bloodthirsty as this.’

  Aunt Epiphany stirred the teapot around and around, and then she said, ‘I believe I know a way to rescue this girl. But it is voodoo. If you are prepared to have faith in voodoo, in Papa Legba and the loa, then maybe we have a chance.’

  ‘I don’t have much alternative, do I? At least you believe me, and at least you understand what we’re up against.’

  ‘I must dress and gather some things together,’ said Aunt Epiphany. ‘The sooner we do this, the better. Give this tea to Shatoya. Kava kava is like a sedative. It calms the nerves and makes a person feel numb. That is what Shatoya needs right now, to feel numb. There will be plenty of time for grief in the days to come.’

  She went back into the living room and gave Shatoya a kiss. ‘I’m going out now, Shatoya. Sissy and me, we have an important errand to run. Don’t worry. We won’t leave you alone here. I will call Francine from across the street and tell her what has happened. Maybe you can go over and stay with her until we come back.’

  ‘But it’s not even three in the morning,’ said Shatoya, in bewilderment. ‘Where are you going at this time of night?’

  Aunt Epiphany kissed her again. ‘When we return I promise I will tell you everything. But please don’t be axing me now.’

  ‘Sissy?’ said Shatoya.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Sissy told her. ‘It’s something that Luther would have wanted us to do. I promise you, it’s all going to work out fine.’

  She set down the blue ceramic mug of kava kava tea on the coffee table, and then she sat beside Shatoya and held her very close. Over Shatoya’s shoulder she could see Everett biting his lip. He looked about as confident as she was, which was only a few degrees south of terrified.

  Back to the Wall

  Sissy went up to her bedroom to change into a cream cotton turtleneck sweater and a pair of jeans. When she came back downstairs, Aunt Epiphany was waiting for her, wearing a long black dress with all of her silver necklaces and silver bangles, and a curious three-pointed hat almost like a pirate’s, with a multicolored scarf knotted around it.

  She was holding a saggy bag of wrinkled maroon leather, with ribbons and beads and plastic skulls and little wooden dolls tied on strings from the handles.

  ‘Where’s Shatoya?’ asked Sissy.

  ‘Gone across the street already, to her neighbor’s,’ said Aunt Epiphany. ‘They’re good people. They’ll take care of her.’

  It was still dark as they drove back toward downtown Baton Rouge, and the streets were almost deserted. Everett said, ‘Care to tell me what you ladies have in mind?’

  ‘Not one hundred percent sure yet,’ said Aunt Epiphany. ‘But from what Sissy tell me, this is not a fight we can fight without some serious help.’

  ‘I’m not sure I know what you mean. What kind of help?’

  ‘This is one mean spirit we facing here, right? Mean and powerful, the way that some spirits can be. It is their anger makes them so strong, and because they on the other side, they can bend the rules of nature in a way that you and me cannot even think about. Look how this woman has bring back her old hotel from days gone by, right inside today’s hotel, with only a single heartbeat separating one from the other. How you going to fight a woman who can do that?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘Well, we cannot do it on our own, without help, because we nothing more than flesh and blood, and we do not have the power. So we need some people who do have the power.’

  ‘Like who? I still don’t get it.’

  ‘We need to call on some dead people, that is who. We need to call on some spirits. And we need to call on some spirits who have good reason to want to help us. I don’t know how many hookers this Vanessa Slider killed. Sissy said she seen five at least. But there could be more, and every one of those hookers is going to bear this spirit-woman grave ill will, wouldn’t you agree?’

  Everett glanced at Sissy, sitting next to him. ‘I’m way out of my depth here. I think I understand the logic, but it’s only logic if you believe in things like dead people coming to life, and I’m not at all sure that I do.’

  Sissy pulled a face. ‘If it’s any consolation, I’m not at all sure that I believe in it, either. But it’s like religion, isn’t it? It’s like God. Sometimes you just have to take things on faith.’

  They arrived outside The Red Hotel and parked. The night porter came across the sidewalk and opened the door for them. ‘Everything OK, Mr Savoie? How about you, ladies? Want some help getting down?’

  ‘Everything’s fine, thanks, Martin.’

  ‘I’ve been trying to contact Mr Broody, sir. I didn’t see him leave tonight and he doesn’t answer his cell.’

  ‘That’s OK, Martin. When I see him I’ll tell him you want to talk to him.’

  They walked across the empty, echoing lobby. Apart from their footsteps, the only sound was the clatter of the fountain.

  ‘What do you want to do?’ Everett asked them. ‘Is there anything that either of you need? I feel pretty helpless, to tell you the truth.’

  ‘Oh, we are going to need you all right,’ said Aunt Epiphany. ‘The plan is this: we go through the wall, all three of us, and down to the kitchen, and when we meets this Vanessa Slider we show her that we fetched Everett here with us, just like she demand.

  ‘Then, we wait until she bring out T-Yon, and that is when I call on our friends.’

  ‘You mean, like, these dead people?’

  ‘You catching on quick, Everett. That is exactly what I mean. These dead people. And when they come to help us, these dead people, that is when you grab hold of your sister’s hand and you drag her out of that place just as fast as you humanly can. Back through the wall, and away.’

  ‘OK,’ said Everett, although he sounded more than a little dubious about it. ‘But what about you and Sissy?’

  ‘You never mind about me and Sissy. You and your sister, you are both young. You have all of your life in front of you. Me and Sissy, we have reached that time in our lives when the sun is going down. We will take our
chances, and more than likely we will be fine. But you just make sure you get yourself and your sister out of there, and as far away from this hotel as you can.’

  Everett said, ‘Sissy? I can’t ask you to risk your life, just for me and T-Yon.’

  Sissy gave him a smile. ‘I’m not doing it because you’re asking me, Everett. I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do.’

  ‘But from what you said about that Shem—’

  ‘Shem? He scares the crap out of me. But if you never face up to the people who scare you, you might just as well lie down in your casket and close the lid and wait for the day you die.’

  ‘I have a gun in my office,’ said Everett. ‘I’ll go get it.’

  ‘No,’ Aunt Epiphany told him. ‘If you go down there with any kind of a weapon, this spirit-woman will know at once. This is a spirit matter. You cannot solve spirit matters with bullets.’

  Before they went up to the second floor, Everett took them through to the bar so that Aunt Epiphany could mix up some of the powders that she was carrying in her bag. She had three small glass jars of them, one gray powder, one dull red like paprika, and one white. She poured them in roughly equal amounts into another glass jar and shook them up.

  ‘It has to be fresh, this mixture,’ she explained. ‘One is ashes; one is dry blood; the other is bone from the cemetery. I call it walking powder. The houngans, the priests, they call it baka. Ba for the superior soul, which rises to heaven when you die. Ka for the inferior soul, which stays in the cemetery with the body.’

  She also took out a necklace of bones and gunja beads, and a head on a stick.

  The head was about the size of a man’s fist. It was fashioned out of black leather, roughly stitched together, with wild gray woolen hair and bulging amber eyes made of glass. Its mouth gaped open to reveal varnished wooden teeth and a rough gray suede tongue.

  ‘This is an effigy of Adjassou-Linguetor, who is one of the most bad-tempered of all spirits. He never tolerate injustice, of any kind. He will support us with his holy rage.’

  ‘I still think I ought to take my thirty-eight,’ said Everett.