Veritas

by Anne Laughlin

  “Yes, planned it all from the start, and I have to say, it worked beautifully. The conclusion is inescapable that Landscome killed Barrow and then himself. Case closed. I don’t think that cop of yours will ever figure it out.”

  Beth knew she was going to be killed. Delilah had just confessed to two cases of first-degree murder. It would not be part of Delilah’s plan to let Beth tell anyone about that.

  *

  Sally raced toward Mount Avery, lights and siren on, talking on her cell phone to Bob Geddings. “Bob, I need you and all hands. I’m on my way back from Center City, where I learned that the Walther we picked up at Landscome’s is connected to Delilah Humphries.”

  “She’s at the college?”

  “Yeah, and I’m pretty sure she must be the one that killed Landscome and Barrow. I need to figure out where she is right now, but I don’t want to spook her.”

  “Okay. I’ll track her down and get back to you.”

  “And, Bob? I need you to assemble as many officers as you can. Call people in. Distribute rifles from the armory, or have someone else handle that. We don’t know what we’ll need to do to bring her in. But keep everyone there at the station until you hear further from me.”

  Sally then called Beth. After no answer at the office or cell, she called the home number and talked to Mae.

  “I don’t know where she is, Chief. We were supposed to be making dinner and she’s disappeared.”

  “What do you mean, disappeared?”

  “She went over to Delilah Humphries’s to pick up her casserole dish, and that was over an hour ago. I called there, but no one answered. She probably got involved with some college thing and forgot all about me.”

  God damn it, thought Sally. She has Beth. She started to panic, for just a moment, until the professional side of her took over. “Mae, I’d like to try to get hold of Beth myself. Would you do me a favor and text me all of the numbers you can find for Delilah Humphries? I’m driving and can’t write them down.”

  “No problem. I’ve seen her number on a list by the kitchen phone. Is there something wrong? Should I be worried about Beth?”

  “No, no. I just want to track her down to see if we can see each other tonight.”

  “I’ll let her know if I see her. I think the two of you are cute together.”

  Sally was now five minutes away from campus. There was sweat forming on her brow and her breathing was rapid. What if Delilah really has Beth? She’d already killed at least two men, apparently with ease, so it didn’t seem unlikely that she’d kill Beth. Sally got back on the phone with Bob and arranged to meet at Delilah’s house. Bob reported that so far he’d not located Delilah. She was not answering her home or office number. He had not approached the house, but it looked like all the shades were drawn.

  When Sally pulled up there were four other squad cars on the scene. Her officers wore their Kevlar vests and held their rifles at the ready, waiting for Sally to give them an order. They’d only done something like this in their training academies. She prayed that none would die from friendly fire, that none would die at all.

  Time to act. “Bob, we’re going in the house. There’s no time for a warrant and all of that shit. This is a probable cause and I can give all the particulars later. She’s got Beth. Where they are in there I have no idea. I want you and four others at the back entrance. We’ll take front and on my mark we enter. Your team goes up, we go down. Just rely on your training and we’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

  *

  Delilah dragged Mel across the room, picked her up, and placed her face up on the autopsy table. The jostling around woke Mel. She tried to struggle as Delilah was lifting her, but she seemed so weak. Beth didn’t think she was going to live long.

  “Please, Delilah. We have to get help for Mel. You don’t want her to die, I know you don’t.”

  “Actually, I do. Ever since Mona at the diner told me about Mel and Katie, I’ve wanted to kill her. Someone needs to. I’ve never seen anyone so greedy in my entire life. She beds any woman she sees if the fancy strikes her, regardless of what it does to the woman or her loved ones. Do you know what that did to me to find out that Katie was sleeping with her? I’d just killed a man for Katie!”

  “I don’t understand any of this,” Beth said. “When did you become the kind of person who murders people? That’s not the person I know.”

  Delilah poured the glop from the blender into a bowl and put it in the microwave.

  “I remember when we got together, Beth, that the most disappointing discovery I made about you was that you were unbelievably patronizing. You would tell me what I really wanted or didn’t want to do as if I didn’t know myself. You’d say things like ‘You don’t really mean that,’ as if I didn’t know what I really meant. It was a complete turn-off, believe me. But you were amusing in bed, so I let it go on longer than I should have.”

  The microwave dinged and Delilah took the bowl out, adding a few cups of a dusty powder to the hot mixture and stirring it with the spoon she’d used to hit Beth. Beth searched the room for any means of signaling where they were, anything she could use as a weapon, anything at all. She knew that if she made a break for the door it would be a matter of a second before Delilah had her back, and in restraints. Her wounded hands made any heroic move at all seem unlikely to succeed. There was a heavy feeling descending on her, made more so by the low ceiling in the room, the red walls, the awful, fluorescent lights.

  “Where are we? We can’t be far from your house. I know I wasn’t passed out that long.”

  “You weren’t, that’s true. And we are in my house. This is a sub-basement, a fallout shelter that was built by some paranoid prior owner of the house, probably in the sixties. And in case you’re wondering, no one is going to find us here. Theoretically, in order to keep nuclear fallout from getting in here, the room is surrounded by thick concrete. No one will hear you if you scream bloody murder. Even the ceiling above the drywall is concrete. Your girlfriend the cop is not going to find you.”

  Using a trowel, Delilah spread the mixture onto some linen towels she’d heated in the microwave and wrapped them into a tight package, securing it with fabric tape. “Okay, stand there next to Mel. You’re going to help me nurse her back to health. This is my famous poultice, based on an ancient recipe that kept hunter/gatherers from dying every time they hacked themselves with an ax or got gored by a wild pig.”

  Mel had passed out again. Delilah stood over her and raised her T-shirt up, past her sports bra, so that it bunched around her neck. Beth gasped to see the knife wound in Mel’s belly, a wide gash at least two inches long, about mid-abdomen and a little off center. How deep the wound was she didn’t know, though it was still oozing blood. Mel’s skin color made her think she didn’t have any blood left in her, but she opened one eye and stared right at Delilah, as if daring her to do her worst. Delilah placed the hot poultice right on the wound and held it there. For the first time Beth heard Mel scream.

  *

  Upon her signal, officers smashed open the front and rear doors with battering rams. The teams moved quickly to clear the first floor, but as soon as they got beyond the first-floor rooms their progress was slowed by the mounds of junk. Bob Geddings led a team upstairs, while Sally went down to the basement. Bob’s voice came over the radio.

  “Chief, it’s unbelievable up here. You’ve never seen so much crap. She could hide twelve bodies and we’d never find them.”

  “Just clear the rooms, Bob and report back.”

  Sally was first down the stairs to the basement, holding her gun in front of her, the team behind her pointing at different angles as the room came into view. It looked impenetrable at first glance, other than a small area to the left of the stairs that was relatively clutter free and held the furnace, sump pump, and laundry. The rest of the large basement was nearly solidly filled with boxes, primarily, and an assortment of things that defied easy description. It was as if every category of goods for sale on e
Bay, with the possible exception of transplant organs and Ferris wheels, were represented in one room, a room entirely too small for the task.

  A narrow path allowed travel to the end of the basement at the rear of the house, as well as side to side in the middle of the room. At the rear was a door leading to a few cement stairs that went up into the backyard. At the end of the midway path at the east wall were the gas meter and the electrical panel. The west wall had a clearing at the end of the path that seemed to be a staging area of some sort. There was a scattering of items that appeared ready to be boxed up—a collection of vintage advertising thermometers, a stack of magazines and books, piles of notebooks of all conceivable style. Sally opened the top few and saw that they were all blank. A card table held packing material. Stacked against the wall were flat bankers boxes. On the floor by the card table was an assembled bankers box, empty, its flaps open, ready to be filled with more stuff.

  Bob’s voice came through the radio. “We’re all clear up here, Chief. I think. It’s hard to swear to it. What’s it like where you are?”

  “I see what you’re talking about. It’s nearly wall to wall boxes down here. I think we’re clear, though. We’ll meet you on the main floor.”

  Sally sent her team back upstairs, her heart sinking. Where was Beth?

  *

  Delilah secured the poultice to Mel by duct taping it to her skin. With almost no ability to use either hand, Beth moved to the other side of the table and tried to bump Delilah away from Mel. Delilah laughed and caught Beth around the middle with both arms, holding her close to her front and whispering, loudly, into her ear. “Your spunk is adorable, as always. But I don’t have much time for it now. If you prefer I tie you up to the cot, I will do so.”

  “No. I just beg you to take that off her. It’s burning her.”

  In fact, there was some faint smell that might have been the poultice itself or might have been Mel’s skin burning. From the look on Mel’s face it was the skin. Her face contorted and the sweat on her brow fell freely down her face. Beth felt desperate to help her.

  “Is there some kind of deal I can strike with you, Delilah? Something you want that I can exchange for Mel’s freedom?”

  “Nothing at all. And I’d get the idea of freedom out of your head. Now get back over by my patient and hold that poultice down on her belly. It will help your hand.”

  “No,” Beth said. If they were going to die, she sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy for her.

  Delilah sighed. “Then I’m going to tape your hands to the poultice. Your choice.” Delilah reached out and grabbed Beth’s left hand, squeezing the bloody, pulverized fingers, bringing Beth to her knees with the pain. And while Delilah was turned toward Beth, Mel curled up and brought her right knee to her chin at the same time, grabbing something from her ankle. As Delilah let go of Beth and turned back toward the table, Mel lunged at her and drove a knife into Delilah’s throat.

  “Run, Beth. Get the hell out and get help!” Mel shouted. She struggled to a sitting position as Beth stood, transfixed as Delilah gurgled and slumped back against the counter, a dazed look on her face. “Run!”

  Beth ran to the door of the room and tugged it open with her right hand, the pain searing through her. On the other side of the door was a narrow entryway and then some steep wooden stairs that seemed to lead to nowhere. It was nearly pitch black. Beth began climbing the stairs, unable now to hear anything behind her in the sub-basement, but aware of some sound above her. She yelled for help. She ran up the stairs. She prayed.

  *

  Sally was turning to join the rest of her team when she heard something. It seemed to be coming from below and she looked around desperately trying to find the source. Another sound, closer now, a voice. The noise seemed to be coming from right below her, yet there was nothing that looked like a trap door to below. She kicked at the empty box sitting on the floor. It didn’t move. She kicked again and then leaned over and tugged on it. The box had been glued and bolted to a door in the floor and when Sally pulled on the box the door opened. Beth’s bloody face was moving toward her.

  “Oh, my God, help. Mel’s down there.”

  “And Delilah?”

  “Mel just stabbed her in the throat. I don’t…”

  Sally pulled Beth up the rest of the way and told her to stay put. She radioed her team and went down the stairs, kicked the door open, and entered with her gun pointed at the center of the glaring red room. Mel was face first on the ground, not moving, with Delilah kneeling above her, blood pouring from her throat, a bloody knife poised to plunge into Mel’s back. Sally shot her in the chest and she went down.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Okay. We have the go-ahead on the pain meds.”

  “Oh, thank Christ.”

  Beth was not clear on everything going on around her, but the word that relief was on the way came through clearly. Her left hand felt like it was on fire, and the slightest movement of the mushy fingers brought on a wave of nausea. Her right hand had a sharp stinging pain that made her think of the chef’s knife quivering as it pinned her hand to Delilah’s table. More nausea. Her face was bandaged where Delilah had clobbered her. She knew that Mel was much worse off, but this was bad enough. Oblivion would be welcome for a while.

  She could hear the sirens as the ambulances sped through the cornfields lining Route 20, heading toward the hospital in Center City. Mel’s ambulance was in the lead, her own right behind it. Delilah remained behind in Mount Avery, her body lying where Sally shot her, the scene being processed by Bob and the medical examiner.

  Next to her was Sally, just putting her phone back on her belt. She put her hand back on Beth’s thigh, since holding either hand was impossible. “Are you feeling more comfortable now?” she asked.

  “It’s taking the edge off. I couldn’t even think straight for a while. Was that my mother on the phone?”

  “Yes, she’ll meet us at the hospital.”

  “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’m glad she’s here.” Beth lay quiet for a moment. “How about Mel? Anything new?”

  Sally looked at the paramedic riding in the back with them. “Say, Tonya. Any news on Mel?”

  “She’s stable, so that’s good. I’m sure they’ll take her right up to surgery.” Tonya fiddled around with the IV line running into Beth’s arm. “Is it true she stabbed that professor?”

  “It’s true. She told me that she always carries a knife strapped to her ankle, ever since she got jumped during a tow-truck call. Thank God she wasn’t afraid to use it.”

  “Mel’s handy, I’ll give her that,” Tonya said, as if Mel had just fixed a dishwasher. “How are you feeling now?” she asked Beth.

  “Better. A little better. Groggy, though.” Beth closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and turned to Sally. The pain flared up.

  “We’ll be there in ten minutes,” Sally said. “You should just rest.”

  “No, I have to tell you something. It’s important.”

  Sally smiled and squeezed Beth’s thigh. “You’re not going to die. We have all the time in the world to tell each other everything.”

  “We do?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Let me tell you this while I’m high on morphine. You’ll be doing me a favor.”

  “Okay.” Sally looked at Tonya, who tried to take herself out of Beth’s line of sight.

  “It’s all right,” Beth said. “I don’t care if Tonya hears this and tells the whole town.”

  Tonya started to protest, but Sally held up a hand to silence her.

  “What is it, Beth?”

  “My mother runs a legal house of prostitution in Nevada.”

  Sally’s face looked crestfallen, the exact reaction that Beth expected. “I wanted to tell you so you could leave me now instead of later. Later is harder.”

  Sally frowned. “You think I’ll leave you? Hell, we haven’t even really gotten together yet.”

  “Well,
you looked pretty disappointed.”

  “That’s because I thought you were going to tell me that you love me. That’s what I was hoping you were going to say.”

  “My mom worked at one of those places,” Tonya said, pressing buttons on the monitor by Beth’s head. “She said it wasn’t too bad.”

  “I’ve heard the same thing,” said Sally. “I always thought it would be much better if prostitution was legal. I worked vice for a few years in Chicago and I know what life is like for most of the women. It doesn’t have to be that hard.”

  Beth didn’t dare try to look closely at their faces. She suspected they were teasing her, humoring her because of her injuries. They acted as if Beth had just told them there was a great sale coming up at Macy’s. It was of mild interest, something to talk about as you were passing the time together. As her eyes focused on the ceiling of the ambulance, her peripheral vision cloudy, she thought of how narrow her life had been, how devoid of those experiences that helped put things in perspective. She was like a child. That was going to have to change.

  “Mae loves talking about the business,” Beth said. “You can ask her all about it at the hospital.”

  “I think we’ll have something else on our minds. The only important thing for me right now is for you to get taken care and feel better,” Sally said. “Rest now. You’re talking too much.”

  “I just have one more thing to say,” Beth said. “And then I’ll shut up.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I love you.”

  The monitor beeped in the silence and Tonya hit a button to quiet it. “Now that’s something I’ll spread around town.”

  About the Author

  Anne Laughlin’s short stories have appeared in a number of anthologies. In 2008 Anne was named a Lambda Literary Foundation Emerging Writer, and in 2009 she was awarded a residency at the Ragdale Foundation, where she will work on her next novel.