Twillyweed

by Mary Anne Kelly

  “All right,” the little boy answered, trying to buy Teddy’s goodwill with polite behavior.

  My heart beat loud enough to hear. I thought I heard Teddy going away in the other direction and I felt a moment’s relief, but just then he yanked a chain and light from a stark bulb blared, revealing me.

  We saw each other.

  “Claire!” Teddy exclaimed in utter surprise. The jig was up. The blacks of his eyes became tight pins and I sensed a wolflike fury. “You know,” he said smoothly, without missing a beat, “I had the chance to get rid of you the other night.”

  It struck me that he wore gloves.

  I answered. “No, you were put off by my dog.”

  We remained like that, in a face-off. Just then, a shrill sound pierced the murky corridor. It was Wendell, blowing like mad on a whistle, and it stunned Teddy for a moment. And at just that moment, out of nowhere, Morgan landed between us. He was wounded and blood trickled from his ear, but he grabbed Teddy. Wendell fell to the ground between them. Teddy, foiled, fought back. They struggled. I tried to get close enough to hit Teddy with the rock but they moved skittishly, twisting one way and then the other. I dragged Wendell out of the way by his paltry arm. To my horror, Teddy had Morgan in a headlock and was strangling him. Morgan couldn’t get loose of him.

  I left Wendell huddled against the wall and crept up behind them. With all my might I clomped Teddy on the head with my rock. He fell forward and slumped to the ground. “Oh, my God, I killed him!” I cried.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Morgan groaned. “Help Mr. Piet!”

  We three scrambled together up the stairs to Mr. Piet and lifted him. Part of the wall came down with him and my right hand holding his back came away warm and wet. “Blood!” I cried. Morgan tore off his sweatshirt, ripped it in half with his teeth, wincing with pain as he did. He propped Mr. Piet’s body against me so he could wrap a tight tourniquet around his torso. Mr. Piet wasn’t big, but he was dense and heavy.

  “Hold this here, Wendell,” Morgan instructed. Wendell, gritting his lips, pressed with all his might. Morgan brushed away as much dirt as he could and felt for a pulse. “He’s alive,” Morgan said and he fell back, hurt. It was his shoulder, dislocated. “We fell through the floor.” He groaned in pain. “The steps gave way.”

  From the corner of my eye I saw Teddy sit up. He struggled to his feet, swayed, and suddenly he darted past us up the stairs. It all happened so fast.

  Straining under Mr. Piet’s weight, I shrieked, “God help us, he’ll reach the top! He’ll lock us in, Morgan! We’ll never get out!”

  Morgan struggled to get up then faltered and seemed about to faint. I floundered with Mr. Piet’s slumped form, most of him on top of me.

  Teddy heaved open the cellar door and stood up at the top of the steps, menacing, the sun behind him, turning him into a hunched silhouette looking down at us.

  “You’ll never get away with this,” Morgan gasped, fighting to stay conscious. “I’ll get you.”

  “Not this time, Morgan,” Teddy sneered. He laughed. “You know they’ll never find you here.” He struggled to take hold of the storm cellar door and lower it over us. He hovered it there between open and shut, life and death, dangling it like a tease.

  Morgan lunged upward but fell short, the effort causing him to writhe with pain. He staggered backward as though he’d been punched and collapsed, unconscious, all the way down what was left of the staircase. I tried to get out from under Mr. Piet.

  Just then, from behind Teddy, a raised form—obliterated by the midday sun—silently came upon him, lifting him into the air and casting him down over the ledge and into the pond.

  All was still. I’d struggled out from under Mr. Piet’s dead weight and lay on the stairs, gasping for breath. I could hear Wendell’s little throat rasping. I got up on all fours and then stood and made my way across the landing to Morgan. I stopped when I saw an open door. It was an office, or what used to be an office. There was electricity—a terrible smell … there was—I’ll never forget it—a preacher’s lectern, and on the face of it, a pair of gloves.

  And then I saw it: the festering body of a half-naked girl in rubber snow boots on a futon. It was wrapped in a haggle of blankets on a plastic sheet. Her dead eyes were open as though she were watching us, her lifeless body chained by one foot to the wall. I tasted Mr. Piet’s blood on my hand as it met my shocked mouth. But no, oh, no. There on the welted mattress lay the body of Annabel Cupsand. The phosphorescent shimmer from the walls wobbled her greenish flesh. The protruding eyes blinked. Wait. Did they blink? I was sure they blinked. I moved closer. A scrawny hand reached out, stilted and grappling. Could it be she was alive?

  “Mama!” Wendell screeched from behind me. “Mama!”

  I couldn’t bear for him to see and I grabbed at him. But he broke free of me and ran and fell, tumbling, then got up and clung, weeping, to her.

  I never thought I’d see Annabel Cupsand alive. Never. And now here she was, bound in shock, her long, frizzy red hair in filthy tangles, her white skin mottled.

  “Go outside.” Morgan’s voice came from behind me. “Take the whistle. Flag someone down. Find a cell phone and call 911. Tell them we need three ambulances.”

  I got to my feet and, shivering with more than cold, followed the wall and climbed up the crumbling stairs, my shoeless, mucky feet stepping gingerly over Mr. Piet’s unconscious body. I went on my knees, crabbing like an animal as fast as I could, avoiding the treacherous holes, reaching for the daylight, grasping hold of the heavy door. I thrust it all the way back so it could never close us in; the sound of Wendell’s voice echoed up from the damp behind me. That was all I could hear, little Wendell’s wailing “Mama! Mama!” through the shattered chambers like hurry-up dice rolling a long shot, insistent with hope.

  Outside, I stood on the ledge and saw Teddy’s fallen cell phone at my feet. I stared at it. I picked it up. I punched in 911. The blinding sun was in my eyes. I looked down and squinted and saw a human shape there in the green muck of the pool. It was Teddy, sucked in and still, only half of his body sticking out. Speechless, I held the yammering voice of the operator in my hand.

  A marigold dinghy was rowing out past the willow and heading toward Sea Cliff. I saw a slim back and a length of long yellow hair.

  When they said the place was condemned, they weren’t kidding. There were so many police and firefighters at the scene within half an hour that it started to come down on itself and they had to pull half of them out. Then some avid news reporter made a jump from the loading dock to the factory grounds and missed and they had to waste time jimmying him out. It was a mess. You have to give it to those Coast Guard medics; they really know what they’re doing. Wendell stayed with me while the medical helicopter flew Annabel Cupsand and Mr. Piet off to the hospital, then a lady officer took Wendell with her in the police boat. They hoisted Teddy out. I was standing there waiting in an aluminum blanket. He was caked with mud, but as they brought him up, the green muck slipped away and one of his wide-open eyes looked directly into mine. Ice went through me, right through me. He would have let us stay down there in that dungeon. He would have left us there to die.

  They started to load him onto a stretcher but then they lowered him into a body bag instead. The police helicopter was coming for him. I was still soaked and went to be close to Morgan, who had turned his back on the pool and Teddy’s exhumation—he told me later he didn’t go over to look at him because of no other reason than that he was Daniel’s son. He felt like he owed Daniel that.

  I didn’t mention the dinghy. Let them all think the bastard had fallen. The sound of the chopper came close like a scene out of Afghanistan, curling and beating the wind.

  Chapter Ten

  Claire

  The human spirit. It’s amazing. That day they carted her out—I have to be honest—I never thought Annabel would make it.
I thought she’d had it, or at least that they’d amputate her foot. But at that rehabilitation center over at St. Francis, they got her through it.

  I was there when we told Oliver she was still alive and had been held captive by Teddy. It was Detective Harms and I at the dock. Oliver had pulled up in a frenzy of boaters, unaware of anything that had gone down. He’d only come in fourth in the race and he looked pretty sore. The detective went on board and I couldn’t hear what he said, but all of a sudden Oliver sank to his knees and started up a wail like a banshee and he threw his arms around the detective’s knees and held him and held him like he was afraid they’d all go overboard.

  Unbelievable.

  So Oliver has his heart’s desire back and he’ll never let her go again. To this day he says he wakes up and checks she’s there, so amazing it is to him. He won’t gamble anymore either, or so he says. We’ll see.

  One day I got to sit with Annabel at the hospital, and I had the chance to speak to her alone for the first time. “Annabel,” I asked her, looking over my shoulder and hoping nothing would interrupt us, “I know you’re not supposed to get upset, but I have to know. That day when you left Oliver, how did Teddy get to you? How did that happen? Do you mind talking about it?”

  “No, I don’t mind. I never left Oliver.” She touched her heart. “That night … oh, I was angry at him, all right. He’d gambled away the money we’d planned for refurbishing the bedrooms. I was furious.” She shook her head adamantly. “But I would never have left him. And I certainly wouldn’t have left Wendell! Teddy had played a dirty trick on Noola and I knew about it. He’d tried to get rid of her cat, and when Mrs. Dellaverna caught him, he tried to lay the blame on her! But I knew what he was up to because Wendell had seen the whole thing and he’d told me. At first I didn’t believe him, but he was too innocent to have made it up. I just knew he wasn’t lying. I told Wendell not to say a word. I made him promise. I was going to fix Teddy’s wagon.” She shook her head. “Oliver and Paige were always defending Teddy. You couldn’t blame them. They felt guilty. I know they did, because they were always pushing him off. They didn’t want him around. The truth is, they were afraid of him. He used to set fires under their cars when he was a kid … things like that. I should have known from that how dangerous he was. And he—their brother’s son! But that night I wasn’t speaking to Oliver or I would have told him I was going down to the marina. I was so angry I wasn’t even afraid of the water. I found Teddy on his boat. He pretended he was glad to see me. ‘Come aboard!’ he said. ‘Give me some decorating ideas.’ I went on board. I did give him some ideas. That boat is a classic. But then I told him I knew what he’d done and if he didn’t make it up with Mrs. Dellaverna and Noola, I’d tell Oliver. He laughed at me, said he was allergic to the cat and was just trying to drive it away, that the cat was making his life a misery. I didn’t know what to think. Everything I said he had an answer for. He complimented me. I was flattered.”

  Yes, I thought, he’d flattered me, too. He knew just how to do it.

  She swept a hand through her extraordinary red hair. “He started talking about the jewels, the Cupsand family jewels. He even said they belonged to him! I got angry. I threatened him. I told him he’d never get his hands on the jewels because they were safe in the sea captain’s trunk at Twillyweed and Oliver would never let him have them. If only I’d told someone where I’d gone. Anyone! But I made my great mistake. I started to leave. ‘Oh, don’t go,’ he said. I told him I had to get back because nobody knew where I’d gone. I had no idea he would become so cruel. But I thought I could handle everything on my own. And he seemed to change, to become reasonable. He asked me to help smooth things over with Oliver. And then I guess I started to feel sorry for him. Everyone was always so down on him. His life was so difficult. No one understood him. I let my guard down. We had a drink. I don’t know what was in that drink.” She looked away. “Since then I’ve tasted that drink many times,” she went on, intent, whispering, “You see, he saw his chance. After he knocked me out, he went back to Twillyweed, upstairs into Captain Cupsand’s room, and he stole the jewels. Then he went to my desk and took my letter paper. He made me write Oliver that I was leaving him. I was so drugged. I knew what I was doing, but I knew he was dangerous by then. He threatened Wendell if I didn’t do what I was told! The next thing I knew I was waking up in that strange, cold place. It was a nightmare. The walls were so damp. I never could get warm.” She gripped my arm. “Sometimes it was so cold! When I wouldn’t behave, as he called it, he would put on his gloves, those horrible, beautiful gloves. He never wanted to get his hands dirtied.”

  Shocked, I thought we’d better stop, but she went on, “The next day after Oliver found my letter and they all were in a frenzy, Teddy made sure they looked to see what I’d made off with.”

  “To think he had you write the letters! But why did you—”

  “He dictated them to me. Oh, it was so horrible. He told me if I didn’t write just what he said, he’d bring Wendell there as well. Little Wendell! And he meant it.” She dropped her face in her hands, recalling. She blew her nose into a tissue. “And of course he was the one who started the rumor I’d gone off with Doctor Varanasi. When he ran out of my letter paper, he just went back to the house. It just so happened Doctor Varanasi was leaving Long Island when Teddy ran into him on the train. Teddy was on his way into the city to mail another letter from me, and Varanasi, asking about me, fell right into his plans. He was heading down to Virginia to see what it would be like to open a practice there. Teddy told everyone who’d listen I’d told him I was falling in love with him. He’d already heard Morgan was sailing down to Virginia to bring back the chandelier Oliver had won in a card game—it was the perfect opportunity. He volunteered to go down and help him get it. That’s when he posted that terrible letter. Can you imagine? He told me all this. Oh, yes, he told me everything. He would go on and on. He would bring me food from the restaurants where he would work and he would rant and rave. He knew if he laid low for long enough, he’d be rich. He’d sell the jewels, but not yet. He had to wait and find an unscrupulous buyer. ‘One day,’ he would say, ‘somewhere overseas.’ But he had time—and he couldn’t have suspicion cast upon him. He couldn’t let me go. And he had to keep me well enough to write the letters.” She studied me with those watery blue eyes. “You’ll think he abused me all the time. I mean physically, sexually.”

  “No,” I lied.

  “Yes, they all think that. But he never did. I swear it. He was a voyeur. He only wanted to watch from his closet. He would …”—she closed her eyes—“abuse himself while he would watch me. And he would only find relief when he saw fear, real fear in my eyes.” She shuddered, remembering. “His perversion wasn’t only sex, Claire. It was avarice.” She said the word in three drawn-out syllables. “He wanted what he imagined everyone else had, everyone but him. He would rave about it. Avarice!” she whispered, her eyes popping, scaring me. “I was his listening stone. That’s what he called me.”

  Her voice grew hoarse. I had to move closer to hear her.

  “In the early days when Teddy had me captive, when I still believed he’d one day let me go once he had enough money, Daniel went to visit Noola, Morgan’s mother, and Teddy went along. It was an Easter visit. Daniel took her cake and tea and things from Paige. Teddy always went along to see what he could get out of it. Sometimes Noola would slip him money. Noola mentioned she’d read in the obituary that a Father von Ritasdorf had passed away and she must remember to tell Morgan about it. Father von Ritasdorf was a horologist—you know, a timepiece expert—and she had knowledge that the priest kept a fabulous volvelle, a moon dial from the 1600s, in the rectory in Broad Channel. It was worth a fortune, she told Daniel. And there it was just sitting there where any criminal could walk in and take it! The minute he heard that Catholic priest in Broad Channel had this moon dial, Teddy’s plan began to take shape. He’d always waited for an op
portunity to get the family jewels, but, it came to him, why stop at the family’s jewels when he could have Morgan’s heart’s desire, too? He saw his chance. He was aware of her weak heart. He and Daniel said good-bye. ‘Don’t forget to lock the door’ were her last words, but Teddy didn’t lock the door. He left it open and he came back alone, slipped in, and put six pills in Noola’s tea before she could inform Morgan. He killed her to keep her quiet. He didn’t even hesitate. He just did it. That’s why they couldn’t place the rest of her medication and thought she’d done it herself. And then he went down to steal the volvelle. He brought it here for a while. I saw it. After he told me he’d murdered Noola, I knew he would kill me, too, eventually, when he was through with me writing letters. He’d have to. I remember he dumped everything inside the volvelle onto the floor and held it up like he’d won a trophy. But he foolishly took the lot to Daniel’s house and hid it there. And then something he hadn’t counted on happened. Patsy Mooney discovered his treasure.”

  “That’s about when Jenny Rose and I came to Sea Cliff.”

  “Yes. Just before.”

  “But how did she get involved in the first place?”

  “One night Patsy was walking home from the rectory where she’d left Darlene Lassiter. They’d been to Atlantic City on the bus. It was late. She walked past Daniel Cupsand’s house along the beach. All the lights were off, but she happened to notice a light from the basement. She knew Daniel was an early riser and couldn’t imagine what he was doing up at that hour. She walked over and peered in the window. But as she drew closer she saw it wasn’t Daniel at all but his son, Teddy. He was sitting at the old model train table. And on the table lay an assortment of odd and compelling items, things that might certainly have been valuable. One of those things was a statue and Teddy was prying the jewels from its eyes. She wasn’t sure what she was seeing. She went home and must have thought it over.