Tortured Dreams

by Hadena James

“We should get checked into the motel.” Xavier sighed as we left the morgue.

  “You can sleep right now?” I asked him.

  “Yes, at least for an hour or two.”

  “We’ve already been checked in; your bags are in your rooms.” Alejandro was leading the way. He seemed a bit pissed that the maidens had maker’s marks.

  “I need to stop by a museum.” I told them.

  “Why?”

  “We are in Chicago and the Field has an excellent collection of torture implements. I was wondering if any were replicas and if they knew this maker. Besides, I have a thought that I want to put to a test and I’ll need some professionals to help me.”

  “We aren’t professional enough?” Alejandro sneered.

  “Sure, but not the right professionals. I need a couple of historians and maybe an archeologist. I figure the museum would be a good spot for that.”

  “Fine,” Alejandro looked at Gabriel. “Will you ferry her to the museum after you have dropped us at the hotel.”

  “Can I have Xavier?” I asked.

  “Sure, I’ll go with you, why?”

  “I’ll need some medical advice as well.”

  Gabriel dropped off Lucas, Michael and Alejandro at the hotel. We took Lake Shore Drive to the Field Museum. I checked my watch. They would be closing soon.

  “What’s your thoughts?” Xavier asked.

  “Something struck me while I was staring at the maiden. Maybe the devices are being used because they are recognizable.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Iron Maidens, impaling, and drawing and quartering are all well known torture devices. The Scavenger’s Daughter is less well known, but it isn’t as obscure in concept as the Pear of Anguish.”

  “I don’t know what that is.”

  “You didn’t know what a Scavenger’s Daughter was either.” I reminded him.

  “True, still not sure I do.” Xavier yawned.

  “Don’t do that,” I told him.

  “You’re thinking of something else,” Xavier said.

  “I am.” I took a deep breath and held it for a minute. “Ok, here goes. Aside from the obscure book, why else pick torture as a weapon? Different types of torture? Then I remembered. A couple of years ago, while I was working on my dissertation, I came to Chicago. They were having a special exhibition on torture. It was going to be traveling. On exhibit was a maiden, a rack, a Scavenger’s Daughter, impaling, drawing and quartering, rats in a cage, a skull crusher and a Hanging Coffin. All of those were from the Middle Ages. There were others too, but they were not from Europe or from the Middle Ages. That’s all we have here. Impaling was perfected by Vlad Tepes making it European. Drawing and quartering was used long before the Middle Ages, but it became vogue in England and some of the other northern countries during the high Middle Ages because it was quick and easy to improvise. The maiden was first discovered in modern times in Germany. The Scavenger’s Daughter was invented by an Englishman. All have the European stamp on them. And all are well known as a result. The Skull Crusher, the Pear of Anguish, less common, the pear was a favorite of the Inquisition.”

  “So you want to see what else they had on display and find out where it went after it left Chicago?” Xavier asked.

  “Precisely. Maybe our killer saw the exhibition. Maybe that is why he picked different forms of torture. That, combined with the book, would answer why there isn’t a pattern to it.”

  “That’s thin.”

  “I know, but I can’t think of anything else. Hence the museum trip.”

  “Speaking of museums, we’re here.” Gabriel said as the car slowed to a stop.

  The Field Museum is a majestic stone structure. It is intimidating to some degree. Mostly though, I just find it breathtaking. It never fails to inspire me with awe. It was the first museum I had ever visited. It holds a special place in my heart as a result.

  The architect had known how to make it as powerful as the objects inside. The entire thing was made of large pieces of white stone. It is a tribute to the glory days of the Roman Empire. Four large, imposing columns support the heavy stone ceiling covering the entrance. A wide, sweeping staircase leads up to the imposing columns and six gilded gold and glass doors.

  These are not the only columns though. The entire outside of the Field is decorated with the supportive neoclassical columns. The caryatid porches have columns carved in the shape of women. Below the caryatids are reliefs that depict scenes reminiscent of any Ancient Greek or Roman structure.

  All of it combines to create the impression of walking into a temple of one of the fallen gods or visiting the Oracle of Delphi, rather than a museum. It is worth stopping to stare at and taking a few pictures.

  “Hi, I’m Marshal Xavier Reece, this is Dr. Aislinn Cain and this is Special Agent Gabriel Henders. We’ve come to speak to the curator please,” Xavier was in professional mode as he spoke, flashing badges and identification cards.

  We stood still, waiting for the curator. Xavier coughed lightly and pointed at a woman walking past us. She had neon green hair. It reminded me of younger days when Nyleena and I used to participate in the counter-cultures.

  “Dr. Cain.” The curator, Dr. Sam Samuels said.

  “Dr. Samuels,” I smiled at the rotund man.

  He had left a good impression the last time I was here. He was in his sixties with no hair and wire rimmed glasses. His stature was small and round. His face creased with smile lines. He was good natured.

  “I’m glad to see you came back, although,” he motioned to the others.

  “They are difficult circumstances,” I admitted.

  “Come to my office.”

  We followed him through the main hall and through a door marked “Authorized personnel only.” His office was big with lots of furniture. It was comfortable and full of creature comforts.

  “Sit, please,” he motioned us into chairs.

  “Dr. Samuels, I’m consulting with the US Marshals on a case. I have some questions about the torture exhibit.”

  “Of course, but…” He stopped and sighed.

  “If I remember correctly, you had some interesting pieces.”

  “Which pieces exactly?” Dr. Samuels asked, cocking his head to the side.

  “Specifically, I’d like to see your Iron Maiden and get the information on it.”

  “Our Iron Maiden?” He frowned harder.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Of course, it is not on display at the moment, it is being held in storage since the exhibit stopped traveling a couple of months ago. You don’t think someone used…”

  “No, not in the least. We have a maiden in custody and I want to compare the details.”

  “Oh,” Dr. Samuels stood up. We all stood up and followed him.

  I had been in the storage space on my previous visit. They did have a very rare piece that Dr. Samuels had been interested in showing me. At the time, I had been just a student. I hadn’t been alone; my thesis advisor had been with me and had known Dr. Samuels.

  We entered one of the many storage facilities at the Field. Dr. Samuels turned on the lights. The fluorescent lights shocked my eyes, making them water for a moment. I wiped them and gave them time to adjust.

  “It’s over there.” Dr. Samuels pointed.

  “Thank you, Doctor,” I walked over to the maiden.

  It was a replica, but a true replica. The spikes were short and adjustable. The head space only had two spikes where the eyes would be estimated to be. The outside was painted like the Virgin Mary. I studied it for several minutes.

  “Who made it, Dr. Samuels?” I asked, finally turning from it.

  “I don’t know. It was acquired way before my time.”

  “It is a replica?” I asked.

  “We think so. There is no real documentation on it. If it isn’t, lots of questions are going to be asked.”

  “And yo
u don’t know how the museum acquired it?” I frowned.

  “It was an estate donation made sometime in the 1940’s. The paperwork that should have been with the donation doesn’t seem to exist though. We had to look into it before we could exhibit it. It was part of the reason we did the exhibit.”

  “What paperwork did you have?”

  “About half the stuff in the donation was documented, but all of it was real, not replicas. The replicas were all of high quality, but there was very little paperwork with them. Since they were replicas and donated during World War II, it turned out that we didn’t need all the paperwork that we would have needed if it was real.” He had begun to talk very fast.

  “I’m not with customs,” I frowned harder. “I don’t actually care about the paperwork. I care about the maker if it is a replica. If it isn’t, the point is moot. Finding someone now days that could make a maiden, that would be a skill passed down from generation to generation.”

  “Ah, I see,” Dr. Samuels visibly relaxed. “There is a maker’s mark. We’ve never investigated it though.”

  “Afraid you’d find out it was real?”

  “Something like that.” Dr. Samuels finally smiled again. After a moment, the smile faded and something seemed to dawn on him.

  “Oh my… You mean someone used one?”

  “Not a real one,” I told him, looking at Xavier. Xavier nodded.

  “A high-priced replica was used, but it wasn’t a true replica. It was a…” I shrugged unsure what to call it.

  “What?” Dr. Samuels asked.

  “It was the scary version used by collectors and low budget museums.”

  “Extra long spikes, not adjustable, those sorts of things?” He asked.

  “Yes.” I agreed.

  “Here,” Dr. Samuels came over and pointed out the mark. I took out my cell phone and took pictures. It was nothing like our mark, but I hadn’t expected it to be since it was well over 70 years old.

  “Thank you; do you have a medievalist on staff?” I asked.

  “Yes, although I think you are the better qualified medievalist.” Dr. Samuels smiled again.

  “Maybe,” I shrugged again. “Can I speak with them as well as you and maybe another historian or two?”

  “Well, most of the staff will be going home about now, but I’ll see who I can scrounge up. Please, don’t touch anything.”

  “I know.” I grinned.

  “I was talking to them.” He hooked a finger at Gabriel who was indeed about to touch something. He jerked back. The verbal hand-slapping getting his attention. He blushed.

  I looked around, but almost everything was sealed in something. The maiden was about the only thing in the room that was out. Gabriel and Xavier did the same. They prodded semi-opened crates to see what was inside. They snickered quietly as they read the abbreviated cards on the outsides of the crates.

  I had been here before. I understood the abbreviations and the cataloging system. Still, I could see where they would find it amusing. I had once been there too, snickering over the weirdly worded abbreviated labels. Gabriel pointed something out to Xavier.

  The room wasn’t dark, but shaded. The fluorescent lights were softened to protect the artifacts. The lighting wasn’t intended to be gloomy. The effect though in this room was much different. It conjured up images of dungeons and the mind imagined tortured voices screaming in the distant corners. Some passage from a Lovecraft novel floated through my memory, but was lost just as quickly as it had come.

  About fifteen minutes later, Dr. Samuels returned with three other people. More people didn’t dispel the gloom, if anything, it heightened it. I was introduced to Dr. Carin Pickerd, the medievalist and Dr.’s Adam Baker and Kim Leon, historians.

  “What can I do for you Dr. Cain?” Dr. Pickerd asked, not wasting time. It was obvious that she had been about to leave.

  “I’m going to give you a list of four items; can you tell me if they seem to have anything other than the obvious in common?”

  “I suppose I can try.”

  “An Iron Maiden, a Scavenger’s Daughter, drawing and quartering and impaling.”

  “I’m guessing the obvious is torture.” She frowned at me.

  “Yes, that would be the obvious connection.”

  “Well, they are all from the Middle Ages to some degree, maybe not impaling and drawing and quartering, but the other two are definitely Middle Ages. The Scavenger’s Daughter seems out of place, it was a punishment that was meant to humiliate and hurt, not kill, while the other three were definitely lethal.”

  “Anything else?”

  “The maiden and the Scavenger would all require skilled craftsmanship, while the other two would not.”

  “Yeah, I thought of all that already. I was hoping to get a fresh perspective.” I sighed.

  “What if you are looking at it wrong?” She suggested.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What if you are trying to find a connection when there isn’t one? What if the means of torture is exactly that, a means of torture? You’re a medievalist, what do you know about torturers?”

  “Oh hell,” I met her gaze. “You’re right, the torture is just torture. What the torturer gets from it is important.”

  “Exactly. Think about them individually. Impaling is impersonal, the Iron Maiden is anonymous, drawing and quartering is very hands on and a Scavenger’s Daughter is about humiliation.”

  “No, it’s deeper than that. Drawing and quartering is hands on, but impersonal. You don’t really do it, the animals do the work. Impaling is impersonal unless you are Vlad Tepes and dining while they die. The Iron Maiden is anonymous for the tortured, not the torturer. And the Scavenger’s Daughter actually means you are inflicting the pain yourself.”

  “Does this help?” Gabriel asked.

  “Yes, very much. I have one last thing. I want each of you think of a torture device from the Middle Ages that hasn’t been mentioned. You have ten seconds.”

  “Skull crusher,” Dr. Pickerd said instantly.

  “The Rack,” Dr. Leon offered.

  “Brazen Bull,” Dr. Baker suggested.

  “A Knee-capper,” Dr. Samuels offered.

  “Brazen Bull is too difficult. The skull crusher, not bad. The rack also too difficult. What do you think is the most recognizable among those not mentioned?”

  “That’s a weird sentence.” Dr. Samuels said.

  “Ok, of all the torture methods of the Middle Ages and ignoring the maiden, the scavenger, impaling and drawing, what is the most recognizable?”

  “Rats in a head cage.” Dr. Samuels answered.

  “Brazen Bull,” Dr. Pickerd said.

  “The Rack,” Dr. Leon stuck with her suggestion.

  “I don’t know much about torture,” Dr. Baker said. “If I had to guess something, I’d say the guillotine.”

  “Not Middle Ages and not a torture device,” Dr. Pickerd said.

  “That’s true, but it might not be a bad thought.” I looked around the room. “How many items were in the exhibit?”

  “Over three hundred not to mention the ones featured just in pictures or description plaques.”

  “Ok, thank you all, I may have someone come back in the next couple of days to ask some more questions. He’s a psychologist and has a different perspective than me on the devices.” I walked out, leaving Gabriel and Xavier to catch up with me.

  They did, at the car. Gabriel hit the button to let me in. Xavier got in, wordlessly staring at me.

  “What was that about?” He asked, after the car doors had been shut.

  “Just a feeling.” I frowned and looked out the window.

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “Nope, I need to talk to Lucas,” I ended the conversation.

  Chapter 20