“No, it was no joke, Tom. Jeffrey was crying. Really crying.”
“Duncan jumped off an overpass?”
“That’s what the police say, but Jeffrey thinks that he was murdered.”
“Maybe he should know,” Tom regretted what he said as soon as he said it. “I’m sorry,” he quickly added before Anna could catch her breath and respond. “I really am. I, I didn’t mean it. This is really awful. I’m so sorry.”
Anna accepted the apology, but she remembered Tom’s words until the day she died.
* * *
Anna dropped Tom off at his house and drove his car to Jeffrey’s. She got there just before 8am and they both cried until after ten.
“I have to call Duncan’s parents,” Jeffrey said. “How do you tell someone that their child is dead? How, Anna, how?”
Anna just shook her head. There was no answer to that question.
“I won’t tell them that he committed suicide. I won’t because he didn’t.”
“Wouldn’t the police have told them by now?” Anna asked softly.
“I don’t think so. I didn’t tell the police that his parents are in Mexico on vacation. They gave Duncan the number of the place they’re renting in case of an emergency. I guess this counts.”
Jeffrey started to cry again. “I thought that I should tell them. I think Duncan would want me to. Right baby boy?”
Jeffrey picked up an 8 x 10 framed picture of Duncan from the end table. In it, he was smiling and standing on a tennis court. He wore all white and looked so alive.
“Come on, Duncan,” Jeffrey carried the picture and walked toward what had been their bedroom. “We have a call to make. ”
“Do you want me to do it?” Anna asked.
“No, we have to,” Jeffrey held the picture to his chest. “But please wait for me. I really don’t want to be alone after I call, okay?”
“Of course, Jeffrey,” Anna wiped her eyes. “Of course.”
Jeffrey walked into the bedroom and closed the door. That meant that Anna was alone in the living room when the police arrived five minutes later.
When she heard the hard knock on the door, Anna looked toward the bedroom, hoping Jeffrey would come out and answer it. When he didn’t she slowly rose and walked even more slowly toward he door. She put her hand on the knob and hesitated. Something her grandma use to say when Anna was little and afraid to go to sleep suddenly popped into her mind. She could almost hear her grandma saying, “Don’t worry child. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. Evil can’t come in unless you invite it in.”
There was another loud knocking on the door, causing Anna to jump away. Holding her breath, Anna carefully peered through the peephole. She saw a man and a woman in the apartment hallway. Both wore suits and both were holding up gold police badges so that anyone peeping through could see who they were.
Anna let out a deep breath and fell back against the door with relief. “Thank God,” she said out loud just before one of the detectives knocked for a third time.
“Oops,” Anna moved away from the door, turned around and opened it wide. “Can I help you officers,” Anna smiled. She saw both detectives looking over her shoulder and into the apartment.
“Hello, mam,” the male detective said. “I’m Detective Malmann and this is Detective Knight. Is Jeffrey Robinson at home? We need to speak to him about the death of Duncan Blau.”
“This is a really bad time,” Anna said. “Jeffrey’s on the phone right now with Duncan’s parents. Can this wait? He’s really upset about what happened.”
The two detectives looked at each other. “No,” Detective Malmann said. “I’m afraid it can’t.”
Anna moved aside and ushered the detectives inside. She saw them look around the apartment as if they were searching for someone or something. They’re jackets were unbuttoned, which put their guns clearly in view.
“Where is Mr. Robinson?” Detective Knight asked.
Anna pointed toward the closed bedroom door. “He’s in there, as I said, talking to Duncan’s parents.”
“Should I get him?” Detective Knight asked her partner.
“Give him a minute, please” Anna interjected. “This is hard enough already.”
Detective Malmann held up his hand, signaling Detective Knight to wait. “You know we tried to call Duncan’s parents, but we were unable to reach them,” he said with a semi sneer. “I hope he’s luckier than we were.”
Anna thought she better explain. “Jeffrey knew where to call.”
“Why didn’t he tell us?”
“He thought it would be better if they heard the news from him. It’s that simple.”
“It’s never that simple.”
Detective Malmann sat on the couch while Detective Knight sat at the table across the room. Both had clear views (Shots? Anna thought) of the bedroom door.”
“Who are you?” Detective Malmann looked directly at Anna. “If you don’t mind my asking.” He adjusted himself on the couch to insure that his jacket stayed loose and open.
“Anna McAlister,” Anna walked over and shook hands with Detective Malmann, and then walked the other way and did the same with Detective Knight. “I’m a close friend of Jeffrey’s. We work together. He called me when he heard the horrible news about Duncan.”
“You knew Duncan Blau?” Detective Knight asked.
“Yes, of course I knew him. He was Jeffrey’s . . .” Anna was about to say lover, instead she said, “friend.”
“Were you close?”
“No, not really. Like I said, I’m close with Jeffrey.”
“You didn’t consider Duncan a friend?” Detective Malmann snapped out his question.
“Yes he was a friend, but I just didn’t know him that well. Wait a minute. What exactly is going on here?”
“I think we’ll wait for Mr. Robinson to get off the phone,” Detective Malmann said. “But I would prefer if you stayed. I do have a few more questions.”
“Fine,” Anna’s defenses rose around her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Detective Malmann nodded his head. “Good.”
After several minutes of awkward silence the bedroom door opened. When it did both detective’s rose to their feet. They’re hands went to their holstered guns and rested there until they were sure Jeffrey was unarmed.
Jeffrey’s face was red and his eyes were puffy. He looked at the detectives as if they were intruders.
“These are detectives Malmann and Knight, Jeffrey,” Anna said. “They said they need to talk to you.”
“He was murdered, right?” Jeffrey asked before the detectives could say a word.
“Who was murdered?” Detective Malmann asked.
“Who the fuck do you think?” Jeffrey shouted.
“Settle down, Mr. Robinson,” Detective Knight took Jeffrey’s arm and directed him to a chair.
“Why do you say that Mr. Blau was murdered?” Detective Malmann stayed on his feet.
“Because I know that he was.”
“You’re right,” Detective Malmann walked up to the chair and looked down at Jeffrey. “He was murdered. I just find it interesting that you knew it before anyone else did.”
Jeffrey started to shake. Anna moved to his side and put her arm around him.
“He really was murdered?” She looked up at detective Malmann. “Someone pushed him off the bridge?”
“Not exactly,” Detective Malmann said. “They must have more thrown him off. The Medical Examiner called just a little while ago. He said that the victim was dead before going off that bridge.”
“What happened to Duncan?” Jeffrey asked.
“Don’t you know?”
“No I don’t.”
The two detectives looked at each other again. It was clear that Detective Malmann was in charge. He looked directly at Jeffrey. “Your friend was stabbed at least a hundred times all over his body.”
“Oh my God, no!”
“The M.E. said that the worst part was that none of t
he wounds until the end would have killed, or even caused him to lose consciousness. He was alive during the whole thing until the killer slit his stomach from his chest down to his penis, and then some.”
Jeffrey buried his head in Anna’s shoulder. “No.
“Yep.”
To Anna it sounded like the detective was enjoying what he was doing to Jeffrey and her.
“In fact the M.E. said certain inside, and outside parts of the victim are still missing. So if you happen to find a dick laying around, be sure to let us know.”
Jeffrey broke free and ran to the bathroom. He sobbed uncontrollably as he knelt in front of the toilet, vomiting from both his mouth and nose.
Anna couldn’t believe what this detective had done. “Why did you do that? You didn’t have to tell him that. Whether you like it or not, he loved Duncan very much.”
“Sorry,” Detective Malmann said in a voice that showed he wasn’t. “I wanted to see his reaction, to see if he’d flinch. After all he lived with the victim.”
“You’re saying that Jeffrey is a suspect.”
“You always hurt the ones you love.”
“Jeffrey wouldn’t hurt anyone, and particularly not Duncan.”
“You seem pretty sure of yourself.” The detective looked at Anna suspiciously.
“Oh please,” Anna groaned. “What kind of fucking cop are you?”
“Now Ms. McAlister,” Detective Knight finally said, “there’s really no need for. . .”
Detective Malmann held up his hand again to stop his colleagues. “Actually Ms. McAlister. I’m a very good cop.”
“Did you ever really think it was a suicide, or was that all part of your bullshit cop games?” Anna asked
“In a way I guess it’s all a game. But, trust me Ms. McAlister, this is not bullshit. We did think it was a suicide until we heard from the M.E.”
“You mean such a good cop missed 100 stab wounds and mutilation.”
“Ms. McAlister,” he said. “Did you ever see someone after they fell from a bridge and were run over by a fully loaded semi. I mean we’re talking . . .” Detective Malmann made a loud squishing sound. “No more Duncan.”
“Shut up!” Jeffrey ran out of the bathroom and punched Detective Malmann in the face. He then jumped on him and the two fell to the couch.
Detective Knight was on Jeffrey’s back almost before they hit the cushions. She pulled his hands behind him and cuffed them together. With one pull she yanked Jeffrey to his feet.
“You’re under arrest, asshole,” she shouted.
“Nah, let him go,” Detective Malmann got up from the couch. “I deserved it. I was being a prick, but I was being a prick with a purpose.”
“You want me to uncuff him?”
Detective Malmann looked at Jeffrey. “Are you going to try to beat me up again?”
Jeffrey shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s just that . . .”
“That’s okay,” Detective Malmann said. “Cut him loose.”
With Jeffrey somewhat under control, the detectives asked for and received permission to “have a look around.” As Jeffrey and Anna sat silently in the living room, Detectives Malmann and Knight looked around everything from kitchen drawers to bedroom closets, garbage cans to the laundry hamper. It made Jeffrey shudder to think of what they were looking for. He started to cry.
* * *
After about 20 minutes Anna patted Jeffrey on the knee. “I’ll make some coffee. Are you hungry? Do you want anything?”
“Duncan,” Jeffrey nodded slowly. “I want Duncan.”
While the coffee dripped, Anna sat down at the small table off the kitchen.
“Excuse me?” Detective Knight came to her instead of Jeffrey. “Do you know where he keeps his car keys.”
Anna pointed to a brass key ring that hung on the wall next to the mirror. “They’re the ones with the little liberty bell on the chain.”
Duncan had given Jeffrey the key chain after he had visited Philadelphia on business. They had coined the phrase, “Give me liberty or give me a blow job” as their official motto.
Detective Knight took the keys and looked back at Anna.
“Gold Toyota,” Anna said without looking at the detective. “It’s right out front”.
“Thanks,” Detective Knight left the apartment while her partner was still rummaging through the bedroom.
Anna stayed seated at the table. She almost unconsciously opened the note pad that was in front of her. Jeffrey had note pads at strategic places all around the apartment in case he got “inspired” and wanted to write something down before he forgot it.
Anna picked up a pen and started to doodle on a blank page. She drew a car, some flowers and a police officer’s hat. Only she could tell what she drew. As Anna had often said, she couldn’t even draw a recognizable stick figure.
Without thinking, Anna closed her eyes. When she did, her hand continued to move on the paper. It moved quickly and effortlessly without Anna being aware that it was moving at all. When Anna opened her eyes, she looked down at the note pad and saw the intricately drawn portrait of a woman’s face and the words, Aidez-Moi, help me, written in perfect French.
Chapter 11
At exactly 4:00 the next morning Anna called 911. She had left Jeffrey’s apartment shortly after the detectives had asked their last question and several of Jeffrey’s and Duncan’s friends arrived. She had carefully torn the page from the notebook, folded it, and put it in her jeans’ pocket. Under other circumstances Anna would have immediately showed Jeffrey what she had drawn and written. After all, Jeffrey had long mocked her total lack of drawing skills, and the handwriting on the paper was clearly not her own.
Anna had driven directly to Tom’s main store where he had an office. “Look at this,” she had said, showing him the paper as soon as she arrived.
Tom had been on the phone when Anna walked into his office unannounced. He said a very quick goodbye before inspecting the paper that Anna had thrust before him.
“So?” he looked up at Anna.
“So?” Anna couldn’t believe his response. “That’s all you can say, so?”
Tom looked at the paper again. “Nice picture?”
“Tom, I drew that. And, I wrote that.”
“I’m sorry, but I just have to go back to, so?”
“So, I can’t draw, Tom. So, that’s not my handwriting, Tom. So, I can’t speak, much less write French, Tom. How’s that for a big bunch of ‘so’s.’”
“So, maybe you just got lucky with a doodle. So, maybe you just wrote different this time. So, maybe you saw those words somewhere and unconsciously remembered them or something. You have to stop spooking yourself.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“Well maybe you are. Will you at least accept that as a remote possibility?”
Anna thought for a moment before answering, “No.”
* * *
That night Anna slept on Tom’s couch and dreamed as she had never dreamed before. Faces appeared in the darkness. Sometimes she saw only eyes. Tom’s eyes, Tom’s face. He was smiling. He was laughing. She saw Detective Malmann’s face, Jeffrey’s, Stacey’s. She was in Paris. Tony was sitting in the middle of the Champs E’lysee eating a CB on an O.R. He’s shouting for his regular mustard. He doesn’t see the traffic. He doesn’t see the truck.
“Tony! Fuck the mustard!” Anna hears herself scream in the dream.
“Fuck the mustard?” Tony screams back, angry and very annoyed at Anna’s total lack of understanding. “Did you really say fuck the mustard? What-cha workin on? Huh? What-cha workin on?”
As the truck approaches, Tony changes into Duncan. Anna can see blood pouring freely from his wounds. The truck hits. Anna is standing in the middle of the road. She looks down at Duncan’s mangled broken body. She reaches for his shoulder and rolls him over. Now the face is Jeffrey’s, but the open, dead eyes are unmistakably her own.
“This is a dream! A dream!” Anna scream
s. She turns and runs down a street. It’s the street where she grew up, but now that street is in Paris. She passes the Eiffel Tower. She tries to turn the corner, but a French police officer blocks her way.
“You cannot go down this street. The Pope is visiting. You must go that way.” The officer turns into Detective Malmann. “That way. Hurry. Hurry!”
Anna turns in the direction the Detective is pointing. The street sign says Rue de Tripoli. The road was now lined with beautiful buildings, each several hundred years old. Anna slowed down and started to walk. She turned in circles, awed by the splendor of the architecture and the beauty wherever she looked. She took a deep breath. The air itself felt alive and filled with passion.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder. Anna turned. The portrait she had drawn floated before her. It was trying to tell her something. The woman’s mouth moved, but Anna couldn’t understand what she was saying. The woman was calling her, pleading with her to help.
Another tap. Anna turned again. It’s Detective Malmann. “That way,” he points. “Go that way.”
Anna starts to run toward an ornate 5-story building. She sees the gargoyles on the roof. They start to dance. Now Anna is in a room. She’s on a bed. She’s being stabbed, ripped apart. No, it’s not her. It’s not Paris. She sees blood. She sees blood flowing across the white tile floor. Anna wakes up and hears Jeffrey scream.
* * *
Anna dialed and spoke as soon as the operator came on the line. “911, you have to send someone to 217 Boltis street, apartment 346.”
“What is the nature of the emergency?”
“It’s my friend. I think he might be dead.”
* * *
In his apartment, Jeffrey was not dead. But, he was dying. Anna arrived just as two police officers were knocking on the door. “Please,” she said. “Get out of my way.”
Anna used the spare key Jeffrey had given her “just in case,” to open the door. Once inside the apartment, Anna led the officers directly to Jeffrey’s bathroom. The door was locked, but Anna didn’t wait for the officers to do something about it. Instead she kicked the door as hard as she could near the knob. It flew open, hitting the wall behind it with a loud bang.
The Haunting of Anna McAlister Page 8
