Hideaway Hospital Murders

by Robert Burton Robinson

  “Hello?” said Carnie.

  “I’ve got plan.”

  “Good. What is it?”

  “I’m coming over there.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes, right now. And don’t do anything until I get there. You’ve already made a mess of things.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. I’m sorry.” She wanted to stab Sylvia right through the heart with a dull knife.

  “Yes, you aresorry. You always have been. You never do anything right.”

  Sylvia hung up.

  Carnie thought for a few minutes, and then called her grandmother again.

  “Carnie, why are you calling me back? I’m on my way.”

  “I forgot to tell you about the secret entrance in the barn.”

  “I know all about it, My Dear,” said Sylvia, hanging up before her words had completely registered in Carnie’s brain.

  **********

  Greg and Cynthia walked into the barn and began to look around. The interior was faintly illuminated by a single light bulb hanging from the rafters. They saw the dark blue van and knew it must be the abduction vehicle.

  They knew there was an underground corridor from the barn to the house, but they had not thought to ask Nurse Magdely for the exact location of the door to that secret passageway. But the only interior door in sight was the tool shed door.

  Greg used his shoulder to force the stubborn door open. Their flashlights found the other door inside almost immediately.

  “This is creepy,” whispered Cynthia.

  Greg opened the door and they went through, and down the stairs as quietly as they could. There was just enough light in the corridor to see where they were stepping. Greg figured the light bulbs along the way to be no more than 25-watters.

  Cynthia worried about spiders and snakes. She took shallow breaths, wondering what kind of damage the musty air might be inflicting on their lungs.

  Cynthia tripped on the edge of a board and fell forward into Greg’s back.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  He gave her a quick hug and then turned around and they began walking again. They could now see the light at the end of the corridor. Greg was expecting to hear people talking, but heard nothing.

  Before they reached the opening, they could see Jake lying on a couch against the far wall. He appeared to be sleeping. But there was a pistol near his hand. They crept into the room and were surprised to see four women, handcuffed to their hospital beds.

  Cynthia hoped they were only sleeping. She saw her mother and rushed to her side. She felt for a pulse. Yes—she was alive. She whispered into Beverly’s ear, but got no response. These women are drugged, she thought.

  Greg tiptoed toward Jake. If he could grab the gun without waking him up, he thought, then he could make him release the women and they could get away in the van. He was two feet from the couch when he heard something. It must be somebody coming down from inside the house, he thought.

  Greg turned and looked at Cynthia. She had heard something too. He figured they would be seen if they tried to escape the way they came in, so he motioned for Cynthia to go off to the right, down the hallway. He had no idea what was down there, but it was the quickest hiding spot.

  They ran fast, but softly, into the hallway just as Carnie opened the secret mirror door and walked in and started talking to Jake.

  Greg and Cynthia had not been seen, but now they were worried the woman would walk to the other end of the room, where Beverly’s bed was located. If she did, and then looked down their hallway, she would see them. And probably shoot them. Or stab them to death, like the poor woman in the parking lot.

  Greg decided to take a big chance. They could hide in one of the two rooms off the hallway. But what if the door hinges were squeaky? He went for it anyway. It opened silently and they rushed in and closed the door.

  The room was dark, so Greg turned on his flashlight. He planned to turn it off as soon as they—.

  He stepped into a hole and fell down. Cynthia shined the flashlight across the floor and saw the big opening. A section of flooring had been pulled up and leaned against the wall, exposing the dirt underneath, and a long wooden box, mostly buried in the ground. They both prayed the noise had not been loud enough to alert the man with the gun and woman who had just joined him.

  **********

  Carnie couldn’t believe Jake had already fallen asleep. She picked up the gun. “Wake up!” She shook his shoulder violently.

  “What?” He sat so quickly it made him dizzy.

  “We’ve got a change in plans,” said Carnie. “We don’t need these women after all.”

  She walked over to Betsy and held the pistol to her sleeping head.

  Jake jumped up. “What are you doing?”

  “These women have seen our faces, Jake. What do you thinkI’m doing?”

  “But you can’t just murderthem.”

  “Why not?” she said in a flippant tone, as though she was about to squash a cockroach under her shoe.

  He hurried to where she was standing. “Don’t be crazy, Carnie.”

  “Are you saying I’m crazy?” She swung around and pointed the gun at Jake’s face.

  “No, no. Of course not.” He stepped back a little.

  Carnie stepped toward him. “Then what areyou saying, Jake? That Carnie Slitherstone is a cold-blooded killer? Is that what you’re saying, Jake?”

  He was afraid to speak or to move.

  “Well, you know what, Jake. I ama cold-blooded killer.”

  And Jake was now a cold-blooded believer.

  She cocked the pistol.

  He cringed. He wasn’t ready to die. Sure, he had killed a man—he was guilty of a hit and run. And he should have gone to the police and let them throw him in jail where he belonged, he thought. At least then he would have still been alive tomorrow.

  She squeezed the trigger, and the gun clicked.

  Jake opened his eyes in disbelief.

  Carnie began to laugh at him. “You idiot. You really think I’d trust you with a loaded weapon?”

  His testosterone suddenly revved up a rage in his belly and he lunged at her and her impotent gun.

  But she took a quick step back whipped out a big knife.

  Where did she get that? he wondered. She had seemingly pulled it out of thin air.

  He struggled to catch himself and avoid the outstretched knife, and barely succeeded.

  “Don’t you evertry anything like thatagain,” she hissed.

  He raised his hands in humble surrender. “I’m sorry.”

  **********

  Greg and Cynthia were sitting on the floor, against the wall. They had turned off their flashlights to conserve the batteries.

  “We should call the police,” whispered Cynthia.

  “But if they come knocking on the front door, these people might kill the women and make a run for it.”

  “Not if we warn them about it and have them sneak in through the back way, like we did.”

  “Yeah, I guess that might work.”

  Cynthia flipped opened her cell phone. “Never mind—I’ve got no signal.”

  Greg checked his phone. “Me either. We’ll just have to wait until they go back to sleep. Then one of us can slip out and call the police.”

  “Well, I’m not stayingwithout you,” she said. “And I’m sure not goingwithout you.”

  “But you’d only have to get to the barn. You’d have a signal out there.”

  Cynthia glared at him.

  “Okay. We’ll both go,” he said.

  Chapter32

  Greg checked his watch. It was 11:55 PM. He and Cynthia had been sitting in silence, waiting for the man and woman out in the hospital ward to leave or fall asleep. They had heard them yelling earlier, when the woman first came in. After that, there had been only occasional mumbling.

  If the man or woman walked in on Greg and Cynthia, they would be caught. Th
ere was no place for them to hide in their empty room. And the only weapons they had were plastic flashlights.

  “How long have we been sitting here?” said Cynthia.

  “About 45 minutes.”

  “What do you think is in that box?”

  “I don’t know.” Greg turned on his flashlight and walked to the front of the box.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Now I haveto know what’s in here.”

  “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have brought it up. Maybe we’d better just leave it alone.”

  Cynthia moved over to where Greg was kneeling in front of the box. It was six or seven feet long and about three feet wide. Except for the top, it was mostly buried in the dirt, so there was no way to determine the depth.

  Greg handed Cynthia his flashlight and pulled up on the board. It was heavy. He had opened it just a few inches when Cynthia directed the flashlight beam down into the box.

  She jumped back, hitting her head on the wall.

  Greg quickly lowered the lid and went to her side. “Baby, are you okay?”

  She was shaking—as though she’d seen the Angel of Death. “Did you see inside?”

  “What?”

  She gulped. “Skeletons.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She grabbed his wrist and shook it hard. “Yes, I’m sure. Get me out of here, Greg.”

  “Okay, but hang on a second. Will you hold the flashlight for me?”

  “Do you really have to look? Can’t you just take my word for it?”

  “Just stay back here and hold the flashlight. Please?”

  “Hurry.”

  Cynthia stood up and leaned against the wall and turned the flashlight toward the box.

  Greg lifted the lid a couple of feet and studied the contents. There were several skeletons in the box. He counted four skulls and lowered the lid. His skin began to crawl, and he knew it wouldn’t stop until he was back above ground. “Let’s go.”

  **********

  It was only a little after midnight and Horatio was already making his first trip to the bathroom. He couldn’t even remember what it was like to sleep through the night. His enlarged prostate was a pain in the butt.

  When he got back to the bed, Alma said, “Ben’s talking in his sleep. Maybe you’d better go check on him.”

  “Nah. He’ll settle down in a minute.”

  But his brother didn’tsettle down. He got louder.

  “Horry?”

  “Alright. I’m going.”

  Horatio walked to the guest bedroom and stood in the doorway. He could see his brother clearly, thanks to the moonlight coming in through the windows.

  “Ben?”

  Hadley continued to mumble.

  “Ben, you’re talking in your sleep.”

  But he talked even louder. He seemed to be angry with someone.

  Horatio walked to the side of the bed. “Ben?” He put his hand on Hadley’s arm.

  Hadley jerked upright while grabbing something at his right side.

  Horatio flipped on the light.

  Hadley woke up, still clutching an imaginary object with both hands.

  “Are you okay, Ben?”

  “Uh…yeah.”

  “What’s that you’re holding?”

  He looked down at his hands. “My M1 rifle.”

  “From the Korean War? So, you were about to shoot me?”

  “Not you. I thought you were somebody else,” he said sheepishly, as he lowered his arms.

  “I didn’t know you were still having those nightmares.”

  “I’m not. Hardly ever. I just get them when I’m worried about something.”

  “Well, what are you worried about? You came out here to take it easy. And we had a great time fishing today. You didn’t seem worried then.”

  “I know.”

  “Just try to relax. And if you feel the need to shoot something, just wait until morning and take it out on the doves, okay?”

  “Look, I don’t know what’s bothering me. It’s as though there’s a problem brewing at home.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling.”

  “A feeling. You sound like a girl. Just be a manand shut up and go to sleep.”

  “Fine. Turn the light off and get out of my room and just maybe I will.”

  **********

  What kind of people had skeletons in their basement? Who had killed the four people, and when? Greg and Cynthia wanted to leave those questions for the police.

  Greg eased the door open just a crack and listened.

  Silence.

  He opened the door enough to slip out and tiptoed down the short hallway. He saw the four women, still out cold. He couldn’t tell for sure whether they were breathing, but they still had color in their faces—except the skinny one. But then he remembered she had been that color when they first came into the room.

  Greg peeked around the corner, hoping the woman was gone and the man had fallen back to sleep. But they were both gone.

  He motioned for Cynthia to come out and make a run for it. She took a glance at her mother, and then they bolted down the long corridor. He knew he couldn’t keep up with her, but he would try.

  Then Greg heard voices behind him. And he knew he could still be seen from the hospital ward.

  “I don’t care if you dohave to pee. You should have waited until I got back. My grandmother’s coming and—“

  Carnie saw someone racing down the corridor. All four women were still in their beds. But whoever it was, she couldn’t let them get away.

  “Give me that.” She snatched the pistol from Jake’s hand and ran. And she was a fast runner—maybe even faster than Cynthia. Definitelyfaster than Greg.

  Cynthia made it to the stairs and took them two at a time. When she reached the top, she opened the door and turned around to wait for Greg.

  Greg was running as hard as he could—or least he thoughthe was, until he heard somebody chasing him. Then he got a second wind. But his pursuer continued to gain on him. And when he reached the stairs, he heard a voice from behind.

  “Stop or I’ll shoot.”

  He didn’t need to be told a second time.

  “And you, up there—come back down here or I’ll shoot him right now.”

  When that didn’t get a quick reaction, Carnie said, “Or maybe you’d likeme to blow his brains out.”

  “No, stop,” said Cynthia. She came down the stairs slowly.

  “Let me guess. One of those women in there is your mother,” she said to Greg. “Or yours.” She nodded to Cynthia. “Right?”

  “Yes,” said Cynthia.

  “Well, you two have just gotten yourselves into a heap of trouble. “She followed them back to the Hideaway Hospital. She had done it again—made somebody do what she wanted by threatening them with an empty gun. The secret, she thought, is attitude. That’s what fools them every time.

  “Looks like we snagged a couple of fish without even trying, Jake,” said Carnie as she threw him the pistol. “One of our volunteers was the bait.”

  Jake studied Greg and Cynthia and wondered whether they would live through the night.

  “So, this lovely couple was willing to give their lives for one of these women,” said Carnie. “Wonder which one?”

  She reached behind her back to the scabbard and pulled out her knife—the one she had nearly stabbed Jake with earlier. She had strapped it on when she went up to her bedroom.

  She went to Betsy Holsom and held the knife at her throat.

  “Please don’t,” said Cynthia.

  Then she tried Ellen Pinkly.

  Greg said, “Why are you doing this?”

  Next was Marcia Cleggmore. “Is it this one? If so, you must be rich.”

  No reaction.

  Then Carnie went to Beverly’s bed.

  Cynthia gasped.

  “Bingo,” said Carnie. She clasped the knife in both hands and raised it above her head and said, �
��Say goodbye to Mommy.”

  Greg ran at Carnie with surprising speed, catching her off guard.

  Carnie took the knife in her right hand and tried to stab him.

  But he managed to grab both of her wrists.

  She couldn’t break free from Greg’s grip, so she pushed and pulled and spun him around the room. They looked like a dance couple at an amateur competition—except for the big, sharp knife in her hand.

  Jake just stood there watching, gun in hand.

  Cynthia didn’t think she could help Greg without getting shot.

  Finally, Greg lost his balance and tripped backward, cracking his head on the edge of the table as he went down. He still had a grip on her arms. But he was feeling weaker and dizzier by the second.

  Carnie used her body weight to push the knife down closer and closer to Greg’s chest.

  “No! Don’t hurt him!” said Cynthia. She looked at Jake. “Do something!”

  But Carnie was determined. The knife was only two inches from his chest. Now she knew she would win. She pushed down even harder. The tip of the blade was touching his shirt. Just one more good push, she thought, and he’s a goner.

  “Carnie! Stop!” The voice of authority echoed from the corridor.

  Carnie pulled the knife away and stood up. “Hi, Grandma.”

  Chapter33

  “Let’s get one thing straight, Carnie,” said Sylvia. “I’min charge now. And you don’t kill anybody unless I tell you to.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Jake and Cynthia were amazed at Carnie’s metamorphosis. She had gone from monster to mouse right before their eyes. Greg was still too dazed to notice.

  “Take these two and put them over there and handcuff them to beds.”

  “We don’t have any more handcuffs,” said Carnie.

  “Borrow a couple from those women.”

  Cynthia didn’t want Carnie to grab her, so she walked to the right side of her mother’s bed and stood.

  “No, not there,” said Carnie. “Not by your mother.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Carnie. Just cuff her,” said Sylvia.

  Jake helped Greg stand up and walked him to the left side of Betsy’s bed—the farthest distance from Cynthia. Greg leaned against the wall and slid to a sitting position on the floor. Jake handcuffed him.