by Michelle Cox
Jenks did not reply; she was busy groping now for the flashlight that hung on a hook just inside the door she had stiffly pulled open.
“I . . . I thought I was to be in one of these rooms close to you, you said,” Henrietta continued, trying not to panic. How would anyone ever find her down in the tunnels?
“Get going!” Jenks said, giving her a little shove. “This hallway’s for regular costumers. Neptune’s den is down below. He doesn’t like to be disturbed, let’s just say,” she laughed grimly. For a brief second, Henrietta contemplated running back down the hall and escaping, but she then realized this was not really an option. As if Jenks could read her mind, she said, “Don’t think about changing your mind now, my little chick,” she said overly sweetly. Carlo will be just outside the door, making sure no one gets in or out without my approval. Go on! I don’t have all night!”
Henrietta felt her way down the steps and waited as Mrs. Jenkins descended with the flashlight. They walked in silence, though Henrietta was sure Mrs. Jenkins could hear the roaring of her heart beating nearly out of her chest despite the sound of their heels clicking on the stone floor. Henrietta was desperately trying to devise a possible escape plan when Mrs. Jenkins stopped all too soon in front of one of the warehouse doors, which contained a smaller door cut out from the bigger one for easier access in and out. It seemed like the one Larry had wavered in front of the other day, but she couldn’t be sure; everything looked alike down here in the dark. Mrs. Jenkins fumbled for the key on the chain around her neck, opening the door finally and waiting for Henrietta to go in first.
It was a large, dingy, cavernous room, most of which was in shadow except the large bed in the middle. It was fitted with red satin sheets and was illuminated by lights hanging down from the ceiling, almost as if it were an operating table. The glow from the lights was further reflected by many large mirrors surrounding all sides of the bed. Henrietta felt chilled as she looked around, oddly reminded of the fun house she had seen at the World’s Fair. At one end of the room there was a screen, behind which appeared to be drawers and racks of clothing. Nothing could prepare her, though, for the whole wall she now noticed that held various whips, spikes, and what seemed to be menacing instruments of sorts. Henrietta swallowed hard and tried to keep from shaking. She was frozen with fear and felt she would vomit at any moment.
“Mrs. Jenkins,” Henrietta begged. “I . . . I’ve changed my mind. You’re right, I haven’t got the nerve. I . . . don’t want the feather anymore,” she said, ripping it out of her hair, causing some of her locks to come loose. She held the feather out to Mrs. Jenkins with a trembling hand.
“Too late now, my little chick!” she said laughing. “You’ve made your bed and now you have to lie in it—literally. Neptune’s on his way. Here,” she said, moving behind the screen and rummaging among the clothes. “Put this on.” She held out a short, pink silk nightgown. “He wants you in this.”
Henrietta remained frozen, staring at Jenks with wide eyes.
Jenks became angry. “Listen, chick,” she hissed. “There ain’t no way out of this now. Put this on and save us all a lot of trouble. The sooner it’s over the better. And for God sakes, don’t cry! He hates that!” She looked her up and down. “I was right, wasn’t I? You ain’t never done the business, much less turned a trick, have you?”
Henrietta shook her head, fear paralyzing her and preventing her from speaking.
“Here . . . ,” Jenks said, going over to a cabinet by the bed. She pulled out a brown bottle and poured some of the contents into a glass. She handed it to Henrietta. “Drink this. It’ll help relax you.”
Henrietta nervously took it, her hand visibly shaking now, and looked at it dubiously. “What is it?” she asked, sniffing it.
“It doesn’t matter. Just drink it! It’s for your own good!”
Henrietta decided she needed something to calm her down or she might pass out, her legs were trembling so badly. She took a small drink. It tasted bitter and burned all the way down.
Jenks laughed at her look of disgust. “Better in than out,” she said with a grimace and moved toward the door. “I’ve got to get back to the floor. You put that on and get ready. He’ll be here any minute, I suspect.” Jenks opened the door to leave. “And don’t get any ideas in your head about escaping. Carlo’ll be right outside, making sure no one disturbs your night with Neptune.” She looked her over one last time, letting out a low whistle as she did so. “I can see why he wants you. He’s been looking forward to you. Has been for a long time; his favorite is virgins.” And with that she stepped into the hallway and shut the door.
Hot tears filled Henrietta’s eyes as she frantically considered what to do. Perhaps she could escape before Carlo got here? She ran to the corners of the room, feeling in the shadows for a door or maybe even a cabinet in which to hide, but she could find nothing. In desperation, she decided to try the door and after quietly turning the knob, was surprised to find it unlocked. She opened it just a tiny crack and peeped out, jumping when she saw Carlo standing there, his arms folded across his chest. He pointed back toward the room. “In you go,” he said with a grin. “He’s coming now. I’d get changed if I were you. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“What if . . . what if I refuse to change?” Henrietta ventured to ask, barely above a whisper.
“Then he’ll rip it off, and you won’t like that. Happened about a month ago, some other dumb bitch thought she could defy him,” he said, grinning despite the threat.
Henrietta quickly closed the door. He must be referring to Iris, she presumed, and sickeningly remembered Esther’s concern about the blood. Surely whatever had happened, had happened right here in this room, on that bed. She willed herself to step behind the screen and started to mechanically undo her buttons, though her fingers were shaking so much she could barely manage it. Her mind was racing, and she thought hopelessly of the inspector. Where was he? Where was Charlie, for that matter? How would they ever find her down here if they did manage to get into the theater? The inspector had told her last night when they parted not to worry, but it was all going wrong somehow.
Her thoughts were interrupted then when she heard the door quietly open and close. He was here! Breathing rapidly, she hurried to finish pulling the nightgown over her head, blushing at how revealing it was. “I’m—I’m almost finished!” she called out, her voice cracking with fear. Trying to calm herself, she ran her fingers through her long hair, unpinned now and hanging about her fair, white shoulders. She took a deep breath and stepped from behind the screen, recognizing a familiarly repugnant odor as she did so. It was almost as if . . . She hurriedly looked up and felt a wave of relief to see none other than Larry in the room.
“Larry!” she said excitedly, never having imagined that she would be so glad to see him. Awkwardly she held her arms across her chest in an attempt to shield herself from his view and turned back to grab the pink silk robe, if it could be called that, which accompanied the nightgown. She had not thought it worth the time to put it on before. There was only a pencil-thin sash that she furtively attempted to tie around her, though it did not manage to obscure much. Still, it was better than being completely exposed. “Oh, Larry!” she said, rushing over to him now. “Thank God you’re here!”
Larry merely grinned at her. For once he did not have a cigarette dangling from his lips. Henrietta put her hand on his arm, which Larry studied carefully. He did not seem to be aware of the urgency of the situation. “Larry, I’m in great danger! There’s . . . there’s been some mistake. I’m supposed to spend the night with Neptune, but I . . . I’ve changed my mind. I’m so very frightened!”
Larry just stared at her with his stupid grin. “Are ya now?”
“Larry, you’ve got to help me get out of here! Please! Do you understand? He’ll . . . he’ll be here any second! Do you know any other way out?” she asked, looking frantically around the room again.
Infuriatingly, Larry continued to
just stare at her, slack-jawed.
“Larry!” she almost screamed. “We don’t have much time! You’ve got to help me. I . . . I know you’re probably loyal to Mrs. Jenkins, but, honestly, Larry, I’ll make it worth your while. I . . . I’m working with the police. They’re going to raid the place, but they’ll never find me down here. I’m . . . I’m friends with the inspector in charge, so I’ll make sure no harm comes to you. Can you take me to Mrs. Jenkins’ office? I think they’re coming through that window. That or go find them and bring them here. Can you do that?” she asked hysterically, searching his face for any sort of comprehension.
There was a faint flicker of understanding in his eyes as all of this information seemed to seep in, and the expression on his face finally changed to one of, if not alarm, then at least concern. “Seems we don’t have a lot of time, then, miss,” he said matter-of-factly. “You wait here,” he said, turning back toward the door. He opened it, stepped outside and whispered something to Carlo and came back in, deliberately closing the door gently behind him and locking it with a key he took from his pocket.
“You have a key!” exclaimed Henrietta. “Good thinking! Lock ourselves in! Yes, it’s probably too late to get past Neptune if he’s on his way,” Henrietta said, speaking very quickly. “But how will we alert the police? How will they know we’re trapped down . . . ” she stopped speaking, perplexed by Larry’s studied attention to the wall of instruments. “Larry? Larry, what are you doing?” she asked, wondering if he was actually deranged. She watched as he took down a sizable length of rope. “What are you going to do with that? Is it to tie up Carlo?” she asked, altogether baffled. She knew he had a strong grip, but she doubted he could overpower the likes of Carlo.
Her pulse began to quicken, though, when she heard the rope snap in his hands as he looked at her, grinning. “We’ll have to forgo certain pleasures,” he said evenly, “since we’re unavoidably rushed. We need to get right down to business, it would seem.”
Henrietta stared at him, unable to process his actions, and wondered why he was no longer speaking like a backward imbecile.
No! she protested to herself as the impossible dawned on her. It couldn’t be! She shuddered violently and felt nauseous, struggling to keep the swirling contents of her stomach down. It was simply too much to take in . . . “You’re—” she started to say in disbelief.
“Yes,” he said, snapping the rope again, “I’m the notorious Neptune, not the bumbling idiot everyone assumes I am. It’s the perfect disguise, don’t you agree? I’m just Lazy Larry, shuffling along with my broom. No one pays the slightest bit of attention to me. As I say, it’s perfect; I go everywhere, anywhere, always listening, always watching. And no one knows the truth, of course, except my pretty little fillies.”
Henrietta felt in danger of fainting; the strange liquid she had drunk was beginning to take effect, and she felt light-headed and dizzy. “But . . . but I saw Neptune! The real Neptune!” she said, trying to prevent herself from becoming hysterical.
Larry grinned. “Him? That’s Vic, my bodyguard, you might say. He’s my front man. Leads attention away from me, see? He’s even taken the rap for me a couple of times with the cops.”
“But . . . but what about Mrs. Jenkins . . . and Esther? They . . . how could they?”
“Oh, yes, of course they know. They work for me and play along with my disguise. It’s amazing how a bit of information can be held over someone’s head. That or money. Either one works well,” he said with an evil grin. Within seconds, however, his face transformed into one of determined seriousness, and with force he commanded, “Enough small talk. We don’t have much time, and I won’t be denied. Now get the robe off and lie on the bed! ”
“You can’t be serious!” she said looking in disgust at his greasy hair and broken teeth.
His grin disappeared then and, catlike, he made a quick move toward her, and though she tried to back away, he succeeded in grabbing her. “Oh, I’m very serious,” he hissed. “I said lie down! I don’t like girls that defy me, and I especially don’t like ones that run to the police, so you’ll have to be punished.”
Henrietta screamed. “Help! Help! Someone, please!”
Neptune slapped her, hard, causing her to cry out in pain, tears coming unbidden to her eyes. “There’s no one out there who’s gonna help you now, so you can scream ‘til you’re hoarse, but I don’t particularly like it, so shut up!” he said, his face close to hers. He grabbed her arms then and moved to tie them to the bedposts when there was a knock on the door.
“What?” Neptune shouted over his shoulder as he suspended his work, breathing heavily, his greasy hair hanging in his face.
“Boss? We’ve got a problem . . . ” said a muffled voice through the door.
Neptune slackened for a moment, hesitating, looking at Henrietta. Finally he seemed to reach a decision and gave her a little shove. “Don’t get any ideas!” he snarled as he rose up from the bed and went to the door.
Henrietta lay frozen, listening, her heart pounding and a thin layer of sweat covering her body. Her breathing labored and painful, she quietly tried pulling on the arm he had already managed to tie to one of the bedposts, but to no avail. Uselessly, she reached over with her free hand, but the knot proved impossible to untie.
“Better be a good reason,” she heard Larry say as he unlocked the door and opened it a crack, but it was suddenly kicked open further by someone on the other side, though Larry managed to escape being hit by it.
“Miss Von Harmon?” shouted a familiar voice.
“Inspector?” Henrietta called out shakily. “I’m here! Help me!” she cried, straining anew at her bonds. Relief surged through her, and she felt hot, fresh tears come to her eyes, but then she quickly realized with horror that the inspector was a prisoner as well, his face bloodied and his hands tied behind his back, though he struggled anew at the sight of her.
The man accompanying him punched him in the gut, causing Clive to double over in pain. “I told you! No funny business! That includes kicking in doors and shouting. Now shuddup!” said the man, who was none other than the “false” Neptune, Vic. “He was comin’ in through Jenks’s window, just like you said, boss. Found this on ‘im,” he said, brandishing a pistol.
Henrietta looked hopefully at the inspector, but he had sunk to his knees now, his head slumped forward as if unconscious.
“How many more?” Larry asked, irritated.
“Two came in the window with him, but they won’t be talking any time soon.”
Larry looked at him questioningly, as if urging him to go on. “And?”
“We nabbed ‘em as soon as they came through. Carlo got a little carried away with one of ‘em. They’s tied up now in Jenkins’s office. Out cold.”
“Why’d you bring him down here?” he asked, nodding at Clive. “You know I hate to be interrupted, especially with such a ripe one,” he said, glancing back at Henrietta. She could see Vic’s wolfish eyes on her as well, taking his time looking her over. “Can I have a turn with her, boss? I mean . . . you know, after you?”
Larry smacked him on the head. “Shut up, you ass. We’ve got to get out of this mess first. Why’s he down here and not up with the others?” he asked again.
“Says he’s an inspector with the police, says the place is surrounded and that they’re gonna bust in in five minutes if he don’t give the signal out the window.”
Henrietta felt a spark of hope and tried to wriggle free, but she was tied tight.
“God damn it! Can’t you idiots do anything right?” Larry demanded angrily.
“We tried gettin’ the signal from ‘im, boss, but he ain’t talkin’, and we was afraid we might knock him out cold if we kept bashin’ him in the head any more.”
“Fuck!” Larry said, grabbing a large dagger off the wall. “Do I have to do everything around here?” He stalked over to the inspector and held the dagger to his throat.
“No!” Henrietta screamed.
“What’s the signal?” Larry demanded, pulling his head back by the hair.
Clive peered up at him with half-open slits, but rather than answer, he spit in Larry’s face. Enraged, Larry wiped the spit from his face and punctured Clive’s neck with the tip of the knife, causing him to cry out.
“What’s the signal?” Larry asked again, almost hysterical now.
“Why should I give you the signal?” Clive said thickly, though the blood was trickling now down his neck. “My men will be here any minute.”
“All right, then. You want to play hardball?” he said, striding quickly over to where Henrietta lay struggling on the bed, her arm still awkwardly tied to the post. He held the dagger to her throat. “Tell me the signal or I cut her.”
“Inspector!” Henrietta screamed.
“Stop it!” Clive said, struggling with his bonds, still on his knees. “Stop! All right, you win. It’s in my pocket,” he said, his head drooping.
“The whistle. Two short blasts and one long out the window. It means all’s well, and we’ve got it handled.”
Vic reached his hand into Clive’s front pocket and extracted a police whistle. “Got it!” he said proudly, tossing it to Larry.
“Let’s hope you’re telling the truth,” Larry said to the inspector with surprising calm, “or she’ll really be sorry. You won’t recognize her when I’m through. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve a few things to attend to.” He turned to Vic. “Lock ‘em up somewhere. Not in here—there’s too many weapons. Wouldn’t want the copper to get any funny ideas. We’ll get rid of them later when the heat is off.”
He was untying Henrietta as he spoke and hauled her up beside him now. He looked at her and grinned, reaching out to stroke the side of her face, red where he had slapped her. “Oh, I ain’t finished with you yet, filly. We’ve some unfinished business before I dispose of you,” he said, licking his lips.
