The Last Whisper in the Dark: A Novel

by Piccirilli, Tom

“I see.”

  “So what do you think?”

  “You sound excited by this.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” I explained. “But I have some stuff going on in my life that’s got me on my toes.” I glanced through the hundred grand again. “You can try it out for a while and see if you like what it offers, if you want. All Hallows’ Eve Films.” I read some titles off the posters. “Killing Vault. My Bloody Grandma. Nun Will Survive, and nun is spelled N-U-N. Stake Through Your Heart.”

  “And this is all right with the powers that be.”

  “Part of being a criminal is sort of stealing the power from the powers that be.”

  “I always heard the mob ran Hollywood.”

  “The mobs run everything.”

  “When can I see you again?”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Thank you for thinking of me.”

  “I do it a lot.”

  I disconnected and went through the DVDs on the shelf until I found a couple that were directed by cousin John. I loaded one called Hello, Baby, Goodbye into Blake’s laptop.

  There was an actual storyline, which surprised me. Narrative arcs in horror flicks seemed to go out with the grindhouse movie theaters on Forty-second Street in the late eighties. The plot wasn’t much but it was there. Boy meets girl, they fall in love, they try to have a kid and can’t, girl is artificially inseminated, baby turns out to be maniacal, boy looks for sperm donor who turns out to be a serial killer. Violence, bloodletting, revenge, potential redemption, love conquers all ensues.

  John had a moody style about him, lots of shadows and high angles, intentional lens flares, distant tracking shots. Dramatic close-ups. There was emotional tension, some complex characterizations, a lot of unspoken dialogue written in the actors’ the only one I had leftndor expressions, and the blood was only used to accent story, mystery, atmosphere.

  The film ended with the young lovers renewing their wedding vows on the lawn of the Montauk Lighthouse. I recognized the spot immediately and my back went rigid. It was where Kimmy and I had planned on getting married.

  The grand vistas of the cliffs and the ocean, with the lighthouse in the background, and watching the guests all raise their glasses of champagne got to me. John had laid out some big money to rent the area for the afternoon. I rewound and replayed that final scene a couple of times. I heard myself laughing angrily. I popped the disc out and made as if to hurl it across the room. I caught myself and froze. I replaced the DVD in its case.

  Blake came in early. At five to five I heard a car pull up outside. I peered through the blinds and saw Blake and a big guy I assumed was Nox park and climb out of a cherry red Taurus, each holding a large Styrofoam cup of coffee. Nox looked like every thug I’d ever seen. Tall, massive, with a dull expression, no neck, and a face that had lost ten thousand bar fights.

  I shut the door to the office and reengaged all three locks. I heard the men come in and futz with the alarm system keypad. Blake’s voice was thin and high-pitched. He discussed his shot list. He talked about actresses he wanted to fire for being late constantly. Nox said nothing in return.

  I took up post behind the door. The locks turned and clicked. In they walked.

  When they got three steps inside I gently swung the door closed behind them.

  “Hello, Blade,” I said.

  I held his own gun pointed loosely in his direction.

  Fear and shame passed over Nox’s face. I knew what it meant. He wasn’t armed. He hadn’t been expecting trouble at the office at five in the morning. He was exactly as stupid as I’d anticipated.

  Blake didn’t rattle. He eyed the methamphetamines on the desk, sipped his coffee, and said, “So who are you? Wait, let me guess. I know your face. You’re Johnny Crowe’s little brother.”

  “Close.”

  “I can tell you belong to that family. You all look alike.”

  “We do. But we’re not all the same.”

  He frowned, blowing trails of steam. “Whatever that means. You want to direct too? Or maybe star in a couple of features? Meet some of the girls? No trouble at all. You want your girlfriend to star? We have a shoot going on today. I can always use a new face.”

  “No, thanks,” I said. “I’ve already got a job. I’m a cat burglar.”

  Nox thought about rushing me. He thought about tossing the hot coffee in my eyes. He thought about getting those huge hands around my throat and choking me into submission. I pointed the .38 at his belly. I hated guns but they came in handy on occasion to help keep certain situations from derailing.

  I cocked the hammer, released it, and cocked it again to make sure I had his attention. His shoulders slumped.

  “You and Perry have been at odds lately, Blake.”

  “He’s a prick.”

  “True. But it’s his and Will’s company.”

  He sneered. “I made it what it is, not them. They’d kind of needle?” h M never even seen a horror film before I got involved. Neither one of the’t ther

  At six-thirty I crept the Crowe house. My grandmother’s bedroom would be next door to Perry’s, I guessed. Just close enough so that if old Crowe needed to shout for a pill she’d hear him and come running.

  I slipped inside. It was still dark out. There was a night-light bathing the room in a soft bone-white glow. I watched her sleep. She was a handsome woman now that I got a chance to actually see her face clearly. I saw a hint of my mother there.

  On her nightstand were easily thirty bottles of meds and a couple of different boxes with the days of the week on them for dispensing pills. I didn’t recognize a lot of the medication, but those I did fell into two categories. Heart meds for Crowe and antidepressants for her.

  Whatever happened to her had happened slowly, steadily, the way it does for all of us, over a great amount of time. No one’s personality is subsumed overnight. It might not be subsumed at all, except here in this place, in the presence of her husband. Maybe that just appeared to be the case. She was bound to have her secrets too. Maybe she screwed the pool boy. Maybe she was as nuts as her husband. Maybe she plotted perfect murders. Maybe she loved horror flicks like cousin John. Her eyes moved beneath the lids. She could still dream.

  “Grandmother,” I said.

  She woke instantly, without a start. Her eyes found me. She wasn’t surprised or scared.

  “I thought you might come back, Terrier,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “To do something awful to him.”

  “To him? Or for him?”

  “Either. Both. Are you going to kill me?”

  There was no emotion in the question, just the barest lilt of curiosity. Like somebody asking how do you get to the highway, make a left or right? She was tough at the core despite the servile attitude and the inability to look my mother in the face. She was full of regret and resentment, but had learned to live with it well. Much better than I had.

  “My God,” I said, “you people. Why would you think I’d do that?”

  “I think it’s what he wants. And because you must hate us.”

  “I never even knew you existed up until a couple days ago.”

  “All the more reason. Do you want money?”

  “Everyone wants money, but no, I don’t want your money.”

  “I have a lot. I’ll give it to you.”

  She reminded me of Gramp. There was something else alive in her someplace deep, but it was buried there under paralysis. She hadn’t moved an inch since I’d entered. She watched me steadily. The pills were doing their job. She wasn’t depressed. She was feeling no pain. She was feeling nothing at all.

  “I’m confused,” I said. “Are you offering me money not to kill you? Or are you paying me to kill you? Or him?”

  She blinked at me. Her lids came down and her eyes stayed shut for a three count, and then she opened them again. “To just go away.”

  “Why wouldn’t you talk to my mother?”

  An animal moan started to climb
from her throat. She covered her mouth with her hand and squeezed her eyes shut until the moment passed. “Because I’m ashamed.”

  “Everyone’s ashamed of something. You had a chance to put some mistakes behind you. Why didn’t you take it?”

  “You can’t put a mistake like abandoning your daughter behind you.”

  “So how does ignoring her when she’s face-to-face with you for the first time in decades make it any better?”

  Her small, wrinkled, age-spotted hands balled into fists and she thumped the mattress once, like a child. “It doesn’t. Nothing does. I begged him not to call her. But he wouldn’t hear of it. He never hears what I say. He wanted to tell her he was sorry. And he was. He truly was. But he wasn’t sorry enough. Not nearly. He’ll never be sorry enough. Not after what happened. Not after what I allowed to happen.”

  “You’re probably right about that.”

  I stood. She fumbled for her pills. I watched her carefully. She only took two. It was probably foolish thinking that a septuagenarian might off herself. She was simply too used to the way things were. That’s why all this talk of murder and fear. She was just that shaken by what had happened yesterday.

  There was nothing left to say.

  I went away, like she wanted.

  I stepped into old Crowe’s room.

  He’d hidden a few things the first time around so he wouldn’t appear so weak. Two IV bags were pumping him full of fluids. A colostomy bag was now in view hanging off the side of the bed. There was an oxygen tank propped next to the headboard, with a mask placed on the closest bedpost. I opened my satchel and set it beside him on the bed. I picked up the tinkly bell and rang it once.

  His eyes opened. He went into a coughing fit for a solid two minutes while I passed him wads of tissues. He was hacking nothing but blood after a while. When he was done there was a nice rosy glow to his cheeks.

  “Here’s your money,” I said. “And the discs and flashes containing about fifteen films that haven’t been released yet. Also another dozen that were produced at S&D but were sold under the table to another studio called Fireshot Pictures.”

  “Fifteen! Those bastards have been busy doing a lot of straight-to-video franchising at my expense.”

  He huffed heavily. I wondered if he’d go for the oxygen mask in my presence or tempt fate some more. He eyed me and then eyed the tank. I turned it on for him and unslung the mask from the bedpost. He held it to his face and sucked heavily.

  “And all right under Will’s nose. And John’s.”

  “And yours.”

  “And mine, yes. Just so.”

  “Blake had a pretty sophisticated operation going.”

  “Did you kill him?”

  I sighed. “You really think it’s that easy, don’t you?”

  “Maybe not. Maybe it’s difficult. But I need to know if you did it.”

  “No, I didn’t. I told you I wouldn’t. You shouldn’t have asked me. It’s insult kind of needle?” h Ming and stupid.”

  “What did you do to him?”

  “I made him listen to reason.”

  My grandfather thought about that for a moment. He seemed to be trying to figure out if I was lying. In the end he decided not to pursue caring.

  “Fireshot is Sal Domingo’s outfit,” he said. “I guess that son of a bitch knew the whole time.”

  Sal Domingo was another big name in Hollywood who’d won awards once upon a time, had his ups and downs, his hits and misses. More misses than hits recently. It was news that he did a couple of season finales for some hit TV shows. It was news he’d filed for bankruptcy but wasn’t going to lose his mansion in Roslyn on Long Island Sound.

  “All you hotshots have a plan B to keep the cash rolling in, huh?”

  “It’s not only practical, it’s a necessity.”

  “You couldn’t invest in a coffee shop franchise? Maybe open a health food store?”

  “In this economy? Too risky.”

  I leaned in. “All right, now I want something from you, old Crowe.”

  He let out a knowing grin that tilted too far to the left. “The twenty thousand?”

  “I already took that,” I told him. “You’re going to get on the horn today and contact some of your friends on the West Coast. My sister Airedale is an actress. She’s sixteen and she’s good. She’s also a real beauty. Get her some auditions. Get her a couple of walk-ons and cameos. Connect her with a good acting teacher, a vocal coach, all of that. I want her set up somewhere nice in Los Angeles so I don’t have to worry about her.”

  His sneer also tilted to the left. “That’s impossible.”

  “You’re a dream-maker. So make it happen.”

  “I tell you it’s absurd. Do you think I’d care anything about the indie horror film industry if I still had my connections in Hollywood? If I had any choice at all?”

  “You don’t know anybody anymore?” I said. “All those guys on your wall? You burned all your bridges?”

  “I lit the fire to some of them. Others blew up or fell over on their own. That’s how it is.”

  “That’s how it is for a prick like you. You still know the town. You know other old coots just like you. I bet you have a favor or two that’s still owed you. You can motivate Will into helping out. He’s probably got a few pals left. I’m not asking for Oscar gold or a ten-million-dollar offer. Just a little action getting her started.”

  He scoffed. He was used to it. Heuge head along

  The fatigue hit me on the drive home. The ass-kicking, adrenaline high, and three days of overmedication had me crashing, almost literally. I was weaving so badly on the LIE that I exited the first chance I got. I took the back streets to the house. I pulled into the driveway and nearly plowed into my father’s car. JFK knew there was something wrong and crawled out from under the porch and followed me inside. I climbed into bed and he lay at the foot of the mattress.

  My phone kept ringing. I had it on vibrate w“It wasnplashich was even more annoying as it danced across my nightstand. I stuck it between the mattress and the box spring. Over the next couple of hours it went off a few more times and I felt the vibrations like the massaging magic fingers of a cheap nooner motel.

  Every time the phone went off I was roused from troubled dreams that immediately drew me back down into them. I sweated out the pills. At some point I got up and took another Perc. I listened for Dale’s voice. I saw myself at the top of the Montauk Lighthouse, holding hands with Kimmy on the catwalk deck. It was windy. Her wedding veil passed in front of my eyes. I think we jumped or maybe I pushed her.

  When I woke up Collie was sitting in a chair beside the bed, holding an uncapped bottle of beer, watching me sleep.

  “Hey,” John said. “Your dad let me in. He told me to just come up.” He proffered the beer. “He really puts them away, doesn’t he? It’s barely … I don’t know … one in the afternoon, and he had a row of empties along the porch rail. He handed me a couple of bottles. I guess he wanted me to give you one.”

  I reached for the Percs. I threw another one down dry. I was running out. I had to raid a few more medicine cabinets. The pill got stuck halfway down my throat. I grabbed the beer and took a deep pull. It wasn’t until the bottle was a third of the way empty that I realized it was nonalcoholic.

  I wondered if giving John the extra beer was my father’s way of letting me know he was trying to quit drinking. I wondered if I would question every action of his from here on out.

  “Those are Percocet, aren’t they? Threw my back out once doing some handheld camera work. You shouldn’t be drinking with them.”

  “It’s nonalcoholic, John,” I said. I got up and washed my face, dumped the beer down the sink, combed my hair, and threw on fresh clothes. I had the twenty g’s in a hidden cache behind the toilet tank. I grabbed half of it and stuck the wedge at the small of my back, nestled in my waistband. When I returned, John was looking at the backyard. He’d opened the window a half inch and an icy autumn breeze blew in.
I liked the feel of it.

  “Did Perry talk to you?” I asked.

  “He did. How did you know that?”

  “He mentioned some things to me during our conversation. He’s got a lot of faith in you. He seemed sorry he didn’t support your career more earlier on.”

  “I told you, he’s changed. He gave me contact information for friends in the industry. He’s never done anything like that before. He thinks I can start over again out in L.A. He said he was too rough on my documentaries and other projects.” John’s eyes grew moist. All any of us really want is our fathers and forefathers to give us a nod now and then. “And he asked me to help Dale too.” John reached into his pocket and unfolded a piece of paper. “He listed casting agents, voice coaches, managerial teams.”

  “He’s got a big heart.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday that Dale wanted to go to the West Coast?”

  I rolled with it. “She only mentioned it after I got home. I called—” I had to chew my tongue to massage the word loose. “—Grandpa up and asked him for the names of some scouts and acting teachers. in a bikini and high heels."> l”

  “She’ll be leaving the show. Leaving ROGUES.”

  “Yes.”

  He roamed my room as if it were his own, touching things, observing, trying to fill in whatever gaps he had about me. The place was pretty barren, and I wondered what that told him.

  “Look,” he said, “about yesterday, I’m sorry I took off on you the way I did.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “But my dad, he’s sort of an emotional type. Seeing your mom again, talking to you about better days, the good old days, and knowing Grandpa only has a little time left, it all caught up with him and hit him hard. He wanted the two of us to visit my mom’s grave together. The cemetery’s just a mile down the road from the house, I used to walk there all the time, pick wildflowers, silly, yeah? But she liked wildflowers, so I picked them, would put them on her grave. It’s a nice cemetery, looks more like a park, right? Clean, well maintained, grass is trimmed, the trees are beautifully landscaped. It had been a while since we’d been there. We thought you’d still be sitting with Grandma when we got back, but you and your mother were gone. Why didn’t you stay longer?”