“What’s wrong?”
Anna turned to Tom. She pointed to the mirror. “Look.”
Tom joined Anna in front of the mirror. When they both looked, only their own reflections looked back.
“What am I suppose to be looking at?”
Anna touched the mirror, and whispered; “Again, nothing. But look at these.”
Anna showed Tom her broken nails and the strands of hair. “Explain these.”
“I can’t explain any of this, Anna.” Tom’s voice was weak and shaken. “Let’s just go back to bed, okay?”
“Yeah,” Anna nodded. “Yeah.”
Anna and Tom turned to walk back into the bedroom. When they did, they both saw the head floating in the doorway, blocking their path.
Anna backed away, she stumbled and fell. Tom stood perfectly still for a moment, before stepping forward.
“No, Tom,” Anna called out. “Get away from it!” She screamed and scrambled back against the wall.
While Tom’s back was to Anna, she could see his profile reflected in the mirror. He looked as though he was in some kind of a trance, and that he was the one now smiling. Tom walked toward the doorway.
“No!”
Tom reached up and took the head into his hands. Anna could see Madam Lapautre’s face contort as if in pain. She saw its mouth issue its silent scream.
“Tom, no!”
There was a cracking sound and a crash from the room beyond Tom. Anna could see the door to the hallway splinter and fly back off its hinges. Police Inspector Cerone and Detective Malmann led the way into the room. They both wore flack jackets and had their guns drawn.
For just a second, they stopped and stared at Tom. Both thought they saw him holding a head, but then his arms were simply in the air and his hands held nothing. A team of fully armed officers flooded into the room. All of their weapons were pointed at Tom.
Inspector Cerone and Detective Malmann looked at each other for a moment before charging. They threw Tom to the floor and pulled his arms behind his back. It took them very little time to cuff his hands together and yank him up to his feet.
Inspector Cerone stood directly in front of him, inches from his face. “You are under arrest for the murder of Madam Isabelle Lapautre.”
Tom didn’t say a word as the officers half led and half dragged him from the room. Inspector Cerone followed them out.
“Are you alright?” Detective Malmann approached Anna, who was still on the bathroom floor. She had watched Tom being arrested, but she couldn’t stop seeing him holding, almost caressing Madam Lapautre’s head in his hands.
“Ms. McAlister, I said are you alright? Did he hurt you?”
Detective Malmann extended his hand. Anna took it and he helped her to her feet.
“What are you doing?” Anna finally was able to ask. “Where did they take Tom?”
“I’m afraid your friend is in a lot of trouble, Ms. McAlister. They’re charging him with murder.”
“Tom? He didn’t kill anyone,” Anna thought about what to say next. “He was with me when Madam Lapautre was killed.”
“Was he?”
Anna remembered Tom running from the room and disappearing for the night. “Yes,” she lied.
“Then that’ll have to be your testimony, I guess,” Detective Malmann shrugged. “But I sure as hell wouldn’t go out of my way to protect him if I were you.”
“You’re not me.”
“That’s for sure. If I were, I’d get about as far away from that guy as I could . . . as fast as I could get there.”
“Why?” Anna asked. “Why did they arrest him now, and why the guns?”
Detective Malmann looked back into the room to make sure they were alone. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Yes!”
“Okay, First of all they picked up Mr. Howard’s finger prints all over that woman’s apartment.”
“Of course they did. Like we both told you, we were there yesterday and met with her. I’m sure you found my finger prints too.”
“No, just his.”
“That can’t be.”
“It is. Look, we’re cops. We deal in facts, clues, bad guys. You can talk all you want about ghosts and goblins, but all I know is that we got a victim and now we got a suspect.”
“Okay,” Anna said. “Then why didn’t you just arrest him when we were at the police station?”
“Because we didn’t have enough to hold him.”
“And now you do? The fact that you found his fingerprints in a place where we told you we were? That gives you enough?”
“There is one more thing.”
“What?”
“We got a call from the hotel a little while ago.” Detective Malmann paused.
“And . . .”
“They found the victim’s head in a hallway.”
“Where?”
Detective Malmann crooked his head. “You don’t seem at all surprised.”
“I’m not. Where did they find it?”
“Outside of that room you and Mr. Howard kept talking about.”
“531.”
“Yeah.”
Anna remained unfazed. “That still doesn’t prove Tom did anything.”
“Look at this way, okay?” Inspector Malmann said. “Mr. Howard’s prints were at the crime scene, the head at the hotel where he’s staying and he’s got some connection with the murders back home. Put it all together, Ms. McAlister, and you got yourself a suspect worth arresting.”
“He didn’t kill them. Look, we were in Paris when Jeffrey was . . . when Jeffrey died.”
“Nice alibi, huh?” Detective Malmann smirked.
“Oh, please,” Anna snapped.
“Sorry,” Detective Malmann held up his hands. “If he didn’t do it, then that’ll come out. If he did do it, then at least he’s somewhere where he can’t do it to someone else.”
“But you’re already convinced that he did it. You’re not going to change your mind.”
“Clues, Ms. McAlister. Facts and clues . . . victims and suspects. That’s how it works. If the clues point to someone else, then we’ll say sorry and Mr. Howard will be a free man.”
“But you don’t think that will happen.”
“Honestly? No I do not.”
Anna took a deep breath. “So what now?”
“First off, I’m going to have to escort you to another room. The crime lab people should be here any minute to go over this place. Unless of course that’s a problem?”
“Can I say no?”
“No.”
“No problem.”
“I’m sure we’ll want to talk to you again in the morning, Ms McAlister. Why don’t you come to the station at around 10? For now, you have to vacate this room before the crime lab crew gets here. They shouldn’t take more than a couple hours, then you can come back.”
“Fine,” Anna stared directly into his eyes. “Can I at least change and get some clothes for tomorrow before we go?”
Anna was still wearing the old football jersey she had claimed as a nightgown so many years ago.
“I’d really rather you didn’t.”
“My jeans and a pair of panties?” Anna’s eyes and nostrils flared.
“Okay, just those,” Detective Malmann watched as she collected the two items.
“The room’s all yours,” Anna said sweetly. She twirled her panties from her fingers as she pushed quickly past the detective and out the door.
Detective Malmann took one last look around before following her. In the hallway they walked side by side. “One more thing, Ms. McAlister. When we came into the room and Mr. Howard was standing in the bathroom door?”
“Yes?”
Detective Malmann stopped walking. He took Anna by the elbow to make sure she did the same. “When he was holding his arms up, did you see . . .”
“See what?”
Detective Malmann thought for a moment before he smiled. “Ah, never mind.” The detective and Anna a
gain started walking. “I think this case is driving us all a little nuts.
Chapter 27
When Anna walked into the lobby the next morning, Phillipe and Stacy were waiting. Anna had arranged for her and Tom to have breakfast with Stacy. She was surprised to see Phillipe.
“Where’s Tom?” Stacy asked. “Did he oversleep as usual?”
Anna always felt that if something was hard to say, the best thing to do was to say it as quickly as possible. “They arrested him last night.”
“What?” Stacey’s mouth dropped. Anna noticed that Phillipe didn’t seem to react at all.
“What happened?” Stacy asked.
“They came in with a God damn swat team.”
“To arrest Tom?” Stacy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had always considered Tom to be a bit of a wuss. “Your Tom?”
“Sometimes things aren’t what they seem to be,” Phillipe said.
Anna looked at him. She was very surprised by his choice of words. “That’s exactly what Jeffrey told me last night.”
“Jeffrey?” Stacy asked.
“Never mind,” Anna said. She kept looking at Phillipe who looked away.
“The French police think Tom killed Madam Lapautre. The cop from home thinks he also killed Duncan and had something to do with Jeffrey.”
“Again, your Tom?” Stacy said. “That’s crazy, I mean he wasn’t even there when Jeffrey died.”
“That doesn’t seem to matter to them. They really didn’t even have any evidence to arrest him.” Anna decided to edit the story. “Just some fingerprints from that woman’s apartment where we were yesterday.”
“We have some more than that now,” the voice of Detective Malmann interrupted the conversation. Anna turned to face him. “A lot more.” He moved up next to Anna. “Can I talk to you alone, please?”
Anna looked at Stacy who touched her arm. “Go on. We’ll wait for you here.”
“Sure.” Anna walked with the detective to the far end of the lobby and sat down on one of the red overstuffed couches. Detective Malmann sat in a chair next to it.
“A little later this morning Mr. Howard will be officially charged with murder.”
Anna closed her eyes and sighed, hoping that when she opened them all of this, everything that had happened, would simply have gone away. She knew that was not going to happen. “I thought we were going to meet at the police station,” Anna said. “Why are you here?”
“I wanted to talk to you alone to tell you that it doesn’t look good for your friend.”
“Yeah, that’s what you said last night. What’s changed? What happened?”
“Well, as you know the crime lab people went through your room last night.”
“Yeah, I kind of noticed. I couldn’t go back into the room until after 4 in the morning.”
“They are thorough.”
“And what did they find?”
Detective Malmann didn’t hesitate. “They found several strands of hair that look like they match the victims.”
Anna thought about her finger nails and of trying to shake them free from being tangled in that hair.”
“We could have inadvertently pickup up some of her hair while we were at the apartment. Finding in the room still doesn’t prove. . .”
“They also found three of her fingers in his coat pocket.”
Anna felt the world start to swirl and close in around her once more. The light in the room dimmed. The now familiar darkness approached again, holding its usual promise of comfort and safety.
“No!” Anna sat straight up on the couch and looked at the detective. She could not afford the luxury of being comforted and she knew that no place, and no one could be considered safe.
“I’m afraid it’s true,” Detective Malmann thought Anna was responding to his statement rather than denying her mind its only means of escape.
Anna forced herself to focus. “Tom did not kill her.” She clipped each word. “I know he didn’t.”
Detective Malmann sat back in his chair. “Yeah, you keep saying that.”
“He didn’t.”
“Then who did?”
“I don’t know. But, you’ll find the answer in room 531.”
“Ah huh, right. Back to that again.” Detective Malmann smirked and shook his head.
“It’s the truth.”
“I went to that room last night.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. And I don’t mind telling you that it was a bitch to get inside. The lock was rusted tight and the door was painted shut.”
“But you got in.”
“Sure, and when I did I found absolutely nothing in there, zero. It’s just an old room. No ghosts, no murderers, no nothing but dust and covered furniture. It’s empty, and it looks and smells like it’s been empty for a very long time.”
“Take me there,” Anna said without emotion or inflection.
Detective Malmann seemed surprised both by her request and her demeanor. “Why?”
“Because that’s where I have to go to end all of his.”
“I said I already looked it over.”
“Maybe you didn’t know where to look, or what to look for. I can find it. It wants me there.”
“Now you’re talking crazy again. I went so far as to check out your cock and bull story about that room.”
“You said that’s where they found the head.”
“In the hallway, yeah. But your friend might have put it there to back up all that crap about ghosts.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Do you want to know what I think? I think you need some professional help.”
“Yes I do,” Anna looked up at the detective. “I need your professional help to get into that room.”
“Do you want my professional opinion, Ms. McAlister?”
“Yes.”
“I think you’re a fucking nut.”
“Really?” Keep calm girl. Keep cool. “Do I really sound like a fucking nut to you, Detective Malmann?” Anna said slowly. Focus. Just stay focused.
Detective Malmann was surprised and impressed with her control. “No, I guess not. But . . .”
“Am I acting like fucking nut?”
“No, but what you’re saying is crazy, Ms. McAlister. I don’t believe in killer ghosts. I believe in what I can touch, hear, smell or see.”
“What did you see when you came into our room to arrest Tom last night? What was he holding in his hands, Detective Malmann? What did you see?”
Detective Malmann thought of that brief instant when he saw Tom holding the head of Ariel Lapautre.
“I know you saw it,” Anna said. “I could see it in your face. Inspector Cerone saw it too, didn’t he?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Detective Malmann couldn’t get the vision out of his mind.
“Yes you do,” Anna rose to her feet. “Take me to 531.”
Detective Malmann suddenly felt something he hadn’t experience in many years. In fact, at first he didn’t even recognize it. He felt fear.
“Take me there now.”
Detective Malmann buried the emotion and ignored the instinct. “What do you think you’ll find there that I couldn’t?’
“The truth,” Anna stated. “That is what you said you were looking for, isn’t it?”
* * *
Detective Malmann led the way off the elevator. Anna saw that the hallway had been sealed as a crime scene with police tape. She felt an odd combination of fear and excitement as they stepped under the tape and walked toward the door to room 531.
Detective Malmann didn’t hesitate at the door, opening it as if he were opening the door to his house. It swung wide, without even a hint of resistance.
“After you.” He pushed the door and stepped aside for Anna to enter first. As soon as he did, a wave of memories and pain struck Anna with such force that she fell back against the opposite wall. It washed through her and then was gone.
“Ms. Mc
Alister?”
“You didn’t feel it, did you?” Anna asked.
“Feel what?”
Anna just shook her head and walked into the room.
“Like I told you, nothing here.” Detective Malmann stood next to Anna just inside the door. They both looked around the room.
To her complete surprise, Anna had to agree with the detective. She felt nothing, and saw only the covered pieces of furniture and faded tapestries on the walls. The air was stale and smelled old. Detective Malmann noticed her sniffing.
“Yeah,” he sniffed along. “It’s like the inside of some Egyptian pyramid in here isn’t it?”
An old tomb, Anna thought. That sounds about right.
Detective Malmann sniffed the air as well. “It just smells lifeless in here, like a lot of places that have been closed up for a long time.”
No, Anna thought. Not lifeless. It smells dead.
Anna waited. She expected something to happen. She didn’t know what. She had thought it wanted her in that room, but now that she was here, whatever ‘it’ was, was silent.
For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime Anna allowed herself to relax, just a little. She walked around the room, at first carefully, then gradually more carefreely. The longer nothing happened, the more comfortable she became. “Okay,” Anna finally sighed. “Okay.”
“Just an old room,” Detective Malmann said. “Filled with just a bunch of old furniture.” He yanked off the cloth that had been covering the bed. Dust filled the air. “See?”
Anna watched the cover lift up from the bed. To her it moved in slow motion. She saw every ripple in the cloth as it was pulled away from the mattress. The dust appeared to remain stationary in the air for a moment, glittering like millions of tiny stars.
Anna heard the detective say “see,” but the voice sounded like it was on an audio tape being played at a very low speed. Then, in an instant, all time and speed returned to normal. The covering flew off of the bed, and Anna saw the tortured woman withering in pain, and bleeding badly.
The woman was young and beautiful. Her hair was black. She lay naked, face up on the bed. Her arms and legs were tied to the bed posts. Anna saw that her body was punctured with many shallow stab wounds, each deep enough to draw a flow of blood. Her body was crisscrossed with rivers of red that streaked from the wounds and found routes down her body, onto the bed.
The Haunting of Anna McAlister Page 20
