Sheila sucked in a great rush of breath making a sound almost like a hiccup.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me Mommy.”
“Oh Karen, come in.”
The door opened and there was little Karen. She had on her pajamas, the tiny pair of boxer shorts and the light blue T-shirt.
“What’s wrong honey?”
“Why are you cryin’ Mommy? Is it because Daddy’s watching us from heaven now?”
Sheila’s lips cracked in a half smile. “Come here.”
Karen trotted across the floor and into her mother’s arms. They clung to each other like two people trying to keep warm in the bitter cold.
“I love you Mommy.”
“I love you too honey.”
Sheila leaned down and kissed Karen on the cheek.
“What are you looking at?”
Sheila released her grip and let Karen drop to the bed. “These are pictures of me and your Daddy before you or Katie were born.”
“Really?” There was awe in Karen’s voice that tickled Sheila. It was as if she were in wonder that a time really existed before she was born.
“Would you like to look at them with me?”
“Uh huh.”
Sheila tapped a picture of George standing in front of a blue Ford Escort. “I took that one of your Dad on the day he came home with his new car.”
“It looks small.”
“It was, but you see your Daddy had never bought a brand new car before. We had that car for a long time. It’s the one that we brought Katie home in from the hospital after she was born.”
“What car did I come home in?”
“The one we have now honey, my Saturn.”
“Oh,” Karen sound disappointed. “What happened to that car?” She fingered the picture.
“We sold it after a while, when we could afford another new car.”
“Do you have a picture of that one?”
Sheila laughed. “No, we don’t.” As she flipped the page in the album, Sheila thought about the question. It seemed like getting older had made her lose something. She could still remember the day that George had come home with the Escort. It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t fast, it wasn’t showy. It didn’t have any characteristics that made a car worthy of taking a photo, but it had been theirs. It was something that they bought together, a symbol of their joining. When they bought another car, years later, it just seemed like another bill, something to add to their ledger of expenses that would have to be covered with the money from their ledger of earnings.
Sheila thought about it and it brought the loss of her husband home to her in a way that nothing else could have. The magic was gone, she had lost it somewhere along the way, and now with George gone, she wasn’t sure that she could get it back.
“Mommy, you’re crying again.”
“I know honey. I’m just thinking about your Daddy. He loved us all so much.”
“I know Mommy. I miss him too.”
Sheila kissed Karen again and then they hugged. It would be a long time before either of them got sleep that night.
20.
Bentley was back. Back in Hell again. That big fuck, Ogre, had made a fool out of Bentley. He had made him look like a little pussy. At first, Bentley was content to let him think that it was over, that he had won.
So he bided his time, he let things go on the way they normally did, until he found an opportunity to make things right.
Each boy that was of age had to go to school, when it was summer they had one lesson a week to keep their minds fresh. At least, that’s what all the grownups at the home said.
Mrs. Tanney taught the class. It was a mish match of whatever she felt like talking about that day. The kids came in groups arranged by age. Ogre was in the highest group, though Bentley thought that he probably would have trouble keeping up with the little ones when they did their finger paintings.
Each session lasted one hour and afterwards you were released to go to the dining hall for lunch. Bentley had watched Ogre for three weeks. He had stayed in the background and observed his ritual after class.
First, he would always go to the boy’s room. He normally stayed there for ten minutes or so, Bentley assumed that he was taking his afternoon dump. After that, he walked to the common room to watch cartoons. Then, usually with only a few minutes left to spare, he would head to the dining hall and load up his plate.
Bentley had known exactly how it would work on the second day, when he saw the pattern repeated, but he had waited. This had to be planned out precisely and he didn’t want some two day anomaly messing up his revenge. So, he had watched and waited and finally he had been satisfied that he knew Ogre’s routine.
Bentley stood down the hall from Mrs. Tanney’s room, his usual spot. He tried to tell himself that everything about this was just the same as it had been for the last three weeks but his mind wouldn’t accept it. It knew this was different and it caused all his muscles to bunch up and his stomach to feel like a kid on a tilt-o-whirl.
Finally the door opened and Ogre stepped out. The other big kids sped their way down the far hall, trying to get to the dinning hall first. Ogre watched them go and walked straight, heading for the boy’s room. Bentley waited only a second before following.
Ogre pushed the green door opened and walked in. Bentley waited outside as was his normal routine. Then, instead of pacing until he knew Ogre was about due to come out, he walked forward and pushed the door open.
The boy’s room was dark and smelled of old shit and piss. Only, there was something else in the air that Bentley couldn’t place. Something that actually smelled kind of good.
He walked over to the sink, bending down a little to look under the stalls. When he reached the last one, he saw the shoes, Ogre’s shoes. Bentley paused in front of the stall for a second. The moment stretched out. Then, he lifted his left foot and shot it forward as hard as he could.
The door broke in with a metal snap.
“Fuck!” Ogre yelled. He sat there on the toilet seat, only his pants were up and his hands were behind his back. A little whiff of smoke circled around his head.
His eyes were wide and frightened at first, Bentley smiled, the fear was already there. Then, Ogre’s eyes cleared as he saw who it was.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, fag?”
“What are you doing?” Bentley asked. This part hadn’t been in his plan, but he really wanted to know.
Ogre pulled his hands out from behind his back. He had a self rolled cigarette in one hand. It was still burning.
“You smoke cigarettes.”
“No,” Ogre said. He took a long drag and then removed the cigarette from his mouth. Bentley expected him to speak again, but instead he seemed to be holding his breath. Then, in a large green rush he blew the smoke in Bentley’s face.
“It’s a joint,” Ogre said. “Do you want a…”
But he never got the rest out. Bentley pulled the knife out from behind his back and thrust it forward. It buried in Ogre’s neck and blood began to seep out from the sides. Ogre wretched and struggled forward…
Bentley sat up on the floor. Something had made some sort of noise. There was a puddle of piss in front of him. He was still naked and thus didn’t mess up any of his new clothes.
He stood up and walked over to the leaning piece of wood that was supposed to be a door. Bentley looked out into the night. He saw nothing but a vast space of wilderness. The trees swayed a bit in the wind, but that was all.
Bentley turned back inside and looked at the dog, he would have thought it would be dead by now, but its side was still rising up and down. Only now the motion was quick and shallow, it didn’t have much longer.
“Fuck you,” Bentley said in a low voice. He picked up his pipe and smashed it down on the dog’s head. Its legs kicked out for a second and then the breathing stopped.
Bentley lay back down and closed his eyes. He was asleep within a few minutes, there were n
o dreams.
21.
Frank had read about the funeral in the paper. It was a small little blip in the obits. Normally he didn’t get that far into the newspaper, but he had sought it out. The thought of going terrified him. He hadn’t seen Sheila since the promise and he wasn’t sure that he could face her.
So, in the end, he had decided not to go. Instead, he worked on the case, as he was now, with the file opened in front of him.
A knock on the door caused him to stop reading and look up. “Come in.”
“Hey Frank.”
“Hello sir.”
Chief Dunham closed the door behind him. Frank didn’t like the look on his face.
“Frank I was wondering if we could have a little talk.”
“Sure.”
The chief sat down on the blue chair in front of Frank’s desk. He drummed his fingers on the desk for nearly thirty seconds without saying a word before Frank broke the ice.
“What’s up?”
“Well, you’ve been working pretty hard on the Braddock case.”
“Yes.”
“It’s been nearly a month now. You know there are other cases that could use a little more of your time.”
Frank closed his eyes for a moment, when he opened them Chief Dunham’s face hadn’t changed. It was still and expectant, trying not to convey any pleasure or displeasure.
“I know,” Frank said. “But this murder, it’s staying with me.”
”Look Frank, you’re one of the best that I have. I need you. You’ve closed more cases than anyone else here. Sometimes you just have to know when to let things go.”
“What are you saying?”
“I want to move you off the Braddock case. That way you’ll be able to take on a little bit more.”
“Who would go on the case?”
“Detective Pappas.”
“Rick?”
“Yes.” Dunham shifted in the chair a little. His face remained calm, but Frank felt the emotions baking off of him.
“Wouldn’t this be Rick’s first solo assignment as a detective?”
“That’s correct.”
“So, you’re going to give him an unsolved murder for his first case.”
“He’s got to get his feet wet somewhere. Plus, he’s familiar with the case from working under you for so long. It’ll be like you never left the case, he knows your style and I’m sure that’s the tact he’ll take with the case.”
“Chief I made a promise.”
“We don’t make promises in this business Frank. Now Rick is going to be on the case and you’re off.” Dunham stood up. “You just focus on the other cases you’re working and get me some results.”
Dunham walked out the door. Frank watched as he left. A second later the door opened again and Rick walked in.
“I’m gonna need the Braddock case file when you get a second.”
Frank stared at the man for a long time. “You think you can solve it?”
“Frank, this is nothing personal, I didn’t have anything to do with this. You really think that I wanted this dog of a case to start off?”
Frank shoved the papers back into the manila folder and threw it across the room. Papers flew in all directions spilling on the floor.
“You fuckin’ take it. I’ve had it.”
Frank brushed past Rick and walked out of his office, through the bullpen and out the door.
22.
Things were going along nicely. Bentley sat near the back of the classroom. The lessons poured over him. It was actually fun going back to high school. Not the school work, but the people. All the bitches and rich bastards around him were amusing. They loved to talk. It was all they seemed to do. At their lockers, at lunch, in the halls between classes. Even in the classroom when they knew they were supposed to be quiet.
When talking wasn’t possible, they were looking at their cell phones. Messages scrolled across the little displays, and it was really just more talking. The hell of it was it wasn’t ever anything important. Who was dating whom, where the party was that weekend, what a bastard the history teacher was. It all amounted to a waste of words. It seemed like they were only talking to talk.
The cunt was two seats in front of him one seat to his left. Bentley watched her day after day. They had three classes together, but History was the class that they sat closest together in.
During the lulls in the lectures, Bentley could hear her talking to her friends. The blonde one next to her seemed to be the one that she favored. They also sat next to each other in Algebra and did little else but talk.
“So I’m going to hand your tests back now,” Mrs. Franklin said at the front of the room. “Most of you did very well. There were a few of you that could have used more studying time. If you didn’t get a good grade on this test, I suggest that you see me after class. If anyone needs more help with the material I’ll be happy to give it. Also, there is going to be three extra credit assignments to sign up for if anyone needs it. When I call your name, please come up to collect your test.”
Mrs. Franklin started reading off names. Katie leaned to her right and smiled at her friend. “So Jimmy Sparks’s parents are out of town this week?”
“Yeah, totally. Jimmy’s throwing this huge party and he asked me to make sure that you came.”
“Really?”
“Yeah he told me that…”
Bentley’s concentration was broken by a hand pushing into his back. He turned around and gazed at burned-out looking bastard behind him.
“What?”
“She called your name Howie.”
“It’s Brandon, asshole.”
Bentley stood up and walked to the front of the room. When he reached his hand out for his paper, Mrs. Franklin hesitated.
“You must have been covering the same things in your last school,” she said as she handed him his test back.
Bentley looked and saw a large letter, A, in red pen on the top.
“You did much better than I could have hoped, being that you started the class in the middle.”
“Sorta review for me,” Bentley replied and turned away with this test. He slowed, but only a little, as he passed Katie’s desk. The two girls stopped their conversation momentarily until he got back to his seat.
“So what are you gonna wear?” The blonde one asked.
“I don’t know,” Katie said. “Maybe I’ll see if my mom can drive me to the mall today.”
“You know she will, you’ve got her wrapped around your finger ever since your dad…” Blondie stopped. She looked at Katie with a mix of shock and fear. Bentley saw the fear in all their eyes. A lot of the time it was hidden under the surface, but it was constantly there. When people got older they let it fall away most of the time. It seemed the closer they got to death the less afraid they became. What replaced it was a kind of weariness, a boredom that killed the soul. Yet, here in a high school, the fear was ever present.
“Katie I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s fine,” Katie replied.
“I mean, I know that things have been…”
“Brenda. It’s fine, really.”
Brenda sighed and nodded. The eyes had calmed again, but the fear was still there. Bentley drank it in.
23.
Frank walked down the block. The day was hot for November and sweat started forming in his armpits. Yet, his only focus was the Braddock case. Sheila had called him three times since that day at the morgue and each time he hadn’t been able to tell her anything new.
“This fucking case,” he hissed. It was clear what would happen, the kid would take it on for a little while, then he would get assigned another case, and then another. After a while it would languish, unsolved but still open, with no one paying attention to it. The perp would continue to walk the streets until he was arrested for something else, probably some kind of robbery and no one would ever have any answers.
Frank was in the job of providing answers. That’s how he saw it. It
wasn’t like being a regular cop. Once the crimes came to him they had already been committed, there was no way to stop them. People had been killed, and there was nothing he could do to change that or make it un-happen. The only thing he could do was provide answers. Everyone wanted them, the Chief, the community, and the families. Sometimes answering those questions meant the difference between a life of torment and pain and one where they could at least deal with their loss and move on.
Frank stopped at the crosswalk and looked both ways. A few cars drifted by in each direction. He stepped off of the curb and turned around.
There’s always questions that need answering, he said to himself. I can’t forsake other families for one. Maybe the Chief is right.
The walk back to the station was short, and his own thoughts hadn’t had time to change, but he still felt hollow when he walked through the door and back to his office.
24.
Jimmy Sparks stood at his locker. He had blonde hair that hung long and went down to the middle of his neck. It was wavy and flowed like a woman’s.
Three girls stood around him, along with another boy, this one shorter and much uglier. A hanger-on. Some pariah that wanted to suck off of the good looks and easy smile of the other boy.
Both boys wore blue football jerseys over their T-shirts, one of the girls had on a blue and gold cheerleader outfit, the other two were dressed like prostitutes, which seemed to be the only official uniform at the school.
Bentley walked towards the gang of them. Jimmy’s smiling countenance faltered when he turned and saw who was coming over.
“Hey Howie Mandell,” he said and the smile returned. His blue eyes flashed with mischief. “The banker’s offering two-hundred thousand you say? No deal.”
“I need to talk to you,” Bentley said and walked away from the locker and towards the restrooms.
Jimmy looked at the people around him and shrugged his shoulders. He was still smiling, but the fear was coming closer to the surface. They were all afraid of him, deep down they knew what he was.
Beneath the Mask of Sanity Page 6
