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Conspiracy of Ravens

Page 7

by Chrystal Vaughan


  “You...you left him there, tied up? And watched him die?” I felt as though I might throw up.

  She seemed genuinely puzzled by my distress. “Yeah, sure. I mean, that was his fate. He had to die as he’d lived, that was the meaning of the Hermit card.” I was stunned. I’d heard her spout descriptions of brutal murders for several days now but somehow this was worse. It was more real. I needed to be sick.

  “Would you excuse me for a moment?”

  “Sure. Go have a quickie with our Officer Shaw,” she said with disinterest. She laid her head on the wooden table as I left.

  I ran out of her cell and down the hallway to the bathroom near the officer’s hub. I went into a stall and threw up my omelet and coffee from the morning. I rinsed my mouth and splashed some water on my face. Brad was waiting for me outside the bathroom. He gave me a brief hug and then said, “Can you keep going?”

  I sensed some excitement. “Why? What happened?”

  “One of my officers took my place for a few minutes. You didn’t notice and I don’t blame you. Yoakum called to say they have a missing person’s case out of Luzerne County for a young man matching Catherine’s description of the boy she ran over with his car. Name of Jason White, age twenty-two, missing since August 2011. His car was a 2000 Honda Accord, dark maroon, never recovered.”

  “Oh, my God. Brad, she just told me his name was Jason. She said the girl’s name was Melissa, and she didn’t know the names of the two lovers in the woods or the old man she tied to the bed but that there were more she did know.”

  “Luzerne County Sherriff’s office is out combing the woods to find White’s body. And get this, Melissa Anselme, age nineteen, went missing from the halfway house she was staying at in November 2011, two months after Catherine claims she killed White. She was reported missing in Lycoming County fairly quickly since she was mildly mentally retarded. The halfway house freaked out when she didn’t come home from her part time job that day. She fits Catherine’s physical description as well. I came back in time to hear her confirm the second victim’s name to you.”

  I forced my revulsion aside. “I can stay as long as necessary. If she will only talk to me, we’ll stay here all night if we have to. I’ll try to get more names and locations from her.”

  “You’re doing great. Meantime, I’ll get back with Yoakum, see if any old guys living in the woods have come up on his radar. I doubt it. There are places in the Appalachians where you can just disappear and no one would ever know. I’m also going to call her weasel lawyer and see when he can get that psychiatrist in here. I’d like to have this bitch transferred out of my prison as soon as possible.”

  I nodded. I wanted nothing more than to leave with him and let us lose ourselves in one another but we both had jobs to do. These feelings for Brad were all new, and I was unsure what they meant, exactly. Focusing on the job at hand helped push the doubts and fears away. Pulling information from her was no longer exciting but the idea of a Pulitzer started circling around my subconscious. Brad left, ensuring another officer was to stand guard at the door.

  I went back to where she sat with her head on the table, chained like a beast. I hoped they’d burn her at the stake like a real witch. I quickly put aside the thought the same fate could be had for me, too.

  Catherine raised her head and smiled, another facet of her ever-changing personality coming to the forefront. No doubt she’s gleaned what I was thinking. I forged on, wary of who and what I was dealing with.

  “Sorry about that. You were saying?” “Did they find the bodies yet, Sophia?”

  “No, nothing to corroborate your stories so far, Catherine. Will there be?”

  “You sound so disappointed. I would think a fainting flower, bleeding heart type such as yourself would be glad the corpses weren’t piling up. Then you could tell yourself the wicked witch isn’t real. Then again, neither would you be.”

  “I hope this is an elaborate hoax, Catherine. That’s still a hell of a story for me, either way.”

  “Nice try. Really, bravo. Sounding all cold-blooded and shit. Good for you.” Sarcasm dripped from her words like poison.

  “Let’s stop the bullshit now and focus on why we’re here, once again.”

  “You have no idea why you’re here, Sophia, so shut the fuck up and let me say whatever I want.”

  “Fine, that’s fine. Go right ahead.”

  She leaned forward, chains rattling like a ghost. “You will be tested at the end, bitch. Remember that.”

  I just stared at her, waiting. Finally, she started speaking again.

  10-Wheel of Fortune

  “I dumped the old guy’s truck in Renovo, like I said,” Catherine’s musical voice echoed around the cell’s concrete walls.

  “They have slot machines at the Green Lantern in Renovo, did you know that?”

  “I didn’t but it fits the Wheel of Fortune card nicely,” I replied, striving for a matter-of-fact tone.

  Anticipating her next card didn’t endear me to her. “Clever. Yes it does have that synchronicity that I find comforting. I worked there, at the Green Lantern, where I met the next raven. He was a regular, feeding coin after coin into the machines. A weird older guy, wore thick glasses and wouldn’t talk to anyone. Except me, of course,” she smirked.

  “Of course.”

  Her mood was suddenly buoyant, somewhat nostalgic. “His name was Finneaus Parsons. I remember it because he went by Finn, which is a strange name but kind of cool. He told me the whole thing like he was proud of it. Always ordered a glass of milk and a turkey sandwich. He was extremely particular too, drove the other waitresses and the cook nuts but it didn’t bother me. He would only drink two percent milk in a frost chilled mug and he had to have his sandwich delivered all deconstructed, the pieces put on a plate so he could sniff them before he put the sandwich together himself.”

  “Sounds like he had some control issues. Odd for a gambler.”

  “I thought so too. Great minds think alike, eh Sophia?” She winked at me. “Anyway, Finn was nice to me, always tipped exactly fifteen percent. I was a little sad when the dark lord said he was the sacrifice but honestly it sort of seemed like a mercy, like I was doing him a favor.

  “I told him I was taking classes online so I could get out of waitressing. He was impressed by that, always offering his help. Finn was super smart, like one of those geniuses you hear about on TV. One day, I took him up on his offer and asked if I could stop by after my shift. He did me one better and offered to drive me to his house where we could use his computer, rather than me having to type it up at the library. Then he said he’d drive me home afterward. ‘Home’ was a shabby motel in a bad part of town but he didn’t need to know that. I agreed but only after he agreed it was nothing sexual. It was like he got off on the idea of helping me better myself; that was his high. I’m not even sure he liked women.”

  “So you killed this man, this Finn Parsons, because you thought he was gay?” I fished for details.

  “Don’t be stupid Sophia. I don’t give a shit where men stick it as long as it’s not in me. The dark lord commanded and I obeyed.”

  “Okay, so you killed him because your imaginary husband told you to…” I goaded.

  Her eyes flashed with anger but she smiled. “However you want to say it, the man is still dead by my hand as tribute to my one true god. His death served not only its intended purpose but was also a lot of fun for me.”

  “Fun? How so?”

  “Well I told you he was real smart right? He thought I needed help with a history class and was pretty chatty about it. He told me about this thing that Mongol executioners used to do to their victims. They’d take each body part and write it down on three pieces of paper and put it in a basket. The executioner--who was called the Tickler, isn’t that awesome?--would pull a piece of paper out of the basket. Then he would ‘tickle’ the body part listed on the paper. So a foot, for example, would get the attention. But he couldn’t just cut it off, see? Beca
use what if he drew that part again? So he might break it the first time, burn it the second time, and then cut it off if he got it the third time.”

  “Dear god...” I choked. “Did you…do this…to him?”

  “Of course! After he told me about it, I had to try it. He practically fed me his own death. After we got to his place, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. When I came out, I hit him over the head with the toilet back while he was typing at his computer. His back was turned to the hallway where I came from and he never saw it coming.

  “He was pretty tall and heavy, so I rummaged in his kitchen until I found some duct tape. I taped him to the computer chair so I wouldn’t have to move him, since he was just slumped forward onto the desk anyway when I smacked him with the heavy toilet lid. I grabbed some plain white paper from his printer and tore it into little strips so I could make the papers with the body parts while I waited for him to wake up. I found some yellow sticky notes and colored pencils so I made use of those while I was at it. It took him a long time to wake up. I started to worry I’d killed him until I realized I could see his chest move up and down while he breathed. So I used my time wisely and gathered some tools from his garage. He didn’t have much. He was mostly into computers I guessed but I found a few things. I also found a safe under the bed with a wad of cash in it, about twenty thousand dollars. I figured I’d make it look like arson with robbery when I was done. I had to remind myself not to cut off any parts. A charred body wouldn’t be hacked up if it was simple robbery as the motive.

  When he woke up we had some fun. There was an electric drill, some sandpaper, a small torch--no idea why he had that but it was really useful…”

  “No more,” I whispered. “I get the idea.”

  “You didn’t even ask about the four parts that are instantly fatal,” Catherine replied. She sounded like a disappointed child, petulant and whiny.

  I don’t need to know.”

  “You were the one who knew what card it was, you know everything, right Sophia?" "Besides, you need to know how he died silly. See, those Mongols were hard asses but fair. Each of the four fatal parts of the body--the heart, lungs, stomach and brain--were put in the basket four times too. If one of those got pulled, then it was game over for the poor bastard who was the Tickler’s meat of the moment.”

  I hoped I wouldn’t puke again in so many minutes. My mouth still tasted sour from the last time. “You drew one of these papers, then?” I guessed.

  “Oh yeah, but not for hours and hours!” she said, gleeful. “I wrote those on the yellow sticky notes.”

  “Christ.”

  She winked conspiratorially at me, like we two girls shared a secret. “Nope, not him.”

  I cleared my throat. It took a couple of tries. “What did you do…after?”

  “After,” she mimicked, “I peeled off the duct tape and laid him out on the floor before his blood cooled and settled. Then I trashed the place and stole all his money, took anything of value I could find. Damn, that was fun too. All the smashing and breaking.

  “Then I wiped off all the things I’d touched. I knew that my hair and skin were there, all over, but I figured the fire would take care of that. I used a couple bottles of starter fluid he had stored next to the barbeque as an accelerant and I torched his house. I took his car before it started really well, unfortunately, but I had to go before anyone saw smoke. I finally ditched that piece of shit car in a swamp near Sugarcreek.”

  “What kind of car was it?”

  “One of those little mini car things, looks like a go cart. I don’t know what they’re called. Damn thing rattled the whole way from his place.”

  “So you didn’t do the circle, the raven’s blood offering, or any of your rituals for this victim?”

  “Of course I did. I figured you were getting tired of hearing about all that since you stubbornly cling to your ‘God’ and ‘Christ’,” she mocked.

  “I was just curious if you were having a crisis of faith.”

  “A crisis of faith? These are words for the weak-minded, Sophia, for losers like that fallen Catholic Irish cop you are now so in love with.”

  I blushed. I was recording this for Brad to listen to, and because I always recorded these conversations. He will hear that, I thought, but what will he make of it? Merely Catherine’s taunting or the truth as it was beginning to dawn on me?

  “Ooh that’s a nice shade of red, Sophia,” she taunted, overly loud, like a mean kid in a schoolyard. As usual with Catherine, the unexpected was the norm.

  “So what happened when you got to Sugarcreek?” I was proud of my steady voice.

  “The same thing that always happens. I killed someone.”

  11-Justice

  She sat still with her hands clasped in front of her like an obedient child, yet another of her many facets swimming to the surface of her strange eyes like sharks to a pool of blood.

  “The next two ravens fell together though I hadn’t yet drawn a card since I killed the history guy. It was just a lucky day I guess. I was in the act of ditching history guy’s car in a woodsy area outside Sugarcreek when I heard gunshots. It freaked me out for a minute because I thought it was directed at me. I ran from the car quick and hid in a clump of bushes, but after a few minutes I figured out the shots were coming from farther away than I thought, echoing through the trees.

  “I was curious, and heard the welcome sound of the dark lord’s urging in the wind, so I crept through the trees until I found this huge black truck, you know the kind, with huge tires?”

  I nodded.

  “So, anyway,” she continued, “the passenger door was wide open so I peeked inside. There were all kinds of shit in there but the best thing was the crossbow on the passenger’s seat and the pistol in the center console.

  “I stole them both, tucking the gun in the waistband of my jeans so I didn’t drop it. I’ve never handled a crossbow before but it felt right, somehow, in my hands. Honestly, Sophia, I felt like a badass with all those weapons hanging off me. I took the keys out of the ignition and stuck them in my pocket. I decided to hide close by the truck so that when whoever owned it came back, I could sacrifice them to the dark lord as like a bonus, then steal their truck and their gear. Though I hadn’t drawn a card yet, I felt confident I was doing His bidding. I snuck away from the giant truck, but right away I knew I had to change course because as soon as I stepped into the cover of the trees, I saw the bodies.”

  “Bodies? There were other killers in the woods besides you?” I interjected.

  “Depends on your point of view, I guess. Depends on your ‘religion’,” she replied, giving me a sly look from the bottoms of her eyes. “There were animals strewn all over the forest floor. Every few hundred yards, the body of a dead animal lay empty in the gloomy mist. It was January, and the bodies were stiff so it was hard to tell how long they’d lain there. Most of them were varmints, possums and raccoons. One big lump turned out to be a deer but there were numerous birds lying in feathery heaps. It was a massacre. The hunters must have lured the animals there to slaughter them. I didn’t know what their reason was, meat or furs or sport, but I didn’t want them to come back and find me so I decided to hide in the bed of the truck until whoever was killing all the animals came back.”

  “You hid in the truck? Weren’t you afraid they’d see you and kill you?”

  “No. They were stupid. Once I got into the truck bed, I could hear them calling to each other. They were so loud it was a wonder any animals within a hundred miles came near them. I never found out how they’d managed to kill all those creatures but the dark lord was livid and I waited eagerly to make it right.”

  “You knew there was more than one because you heard them talking?”

  “Once the shooting stopped, I could hear them shouting to each other. Two men, by the sound and number of their voices. I lay in the bed of the truck on my stomach with the gun in my left hand, safety off and rounds checked. I didn’t know much about guns, but h
ey, I watch television. I knew to make sure the damned thing would work when I needed it to. I loved that crossbow but knew it would be a detriment when facing armed hunters. I had the element of surprise but if they were both carrying shotguns and rifles, the crossbow would be too slow. So I waited, listening to them kill everything they could find besides each other before they got tired and headed back to the truck.

  “They were so loud! Laughing and high-fiving each other, bragging about their kills. They didn’t scare me. I leapt up from the bed of the truck before they could notice the missing weapons from inside the truck. Two men, an old guy with white hair and a younger guy with a baseball hat on were less than three feet from the truck. Both carrying a gun in one hand and the dead body of a pheasant in the other. I shot the young guy in the chest, the recoil from the pistol nearly spinning me around. I saw the young guy go down in a splash of neon orange and crimson blood. The old guy stood there in shock with his mouth gaping open. He looked like a fish gasping for air. I crouched down quickly in case he came to his senses, making a smaller target of myself, and fired a round into his face. The bullet went wide and a little too low. I got him in the throat and he died on his feet in a spray of blood, gore cascading down the front of him in a sheet. He fell over at the end, face first in the frozen ground.

  “The second recoil knocked me on my ass so I just sat there for a minute and thanked the Horned God for beginner’s luck. After a few moments, the birds started singing again and the forest came back to life. I took it as a sign of approval. I pulled my cards out of my back pocket and found the Justice Card face up instead of face down like the rest of the cards in the deck. I guess I’d drawn the next card, after all.” Catherine gave me that sly look again, as though she’d fooled me somehow.

  “Those two dudes were really heavy, but I dragged them to a spot in the middle of the dirt track they’d parked their truck on and cast the circle. The ravens watched me open their shirts and draw their symbol on the dead flesh with my living blood. I swear, they looked proud of my prowess. I had some fun for a while after the ritual was complete, shooting the crossbow bolts into their bodies until they looked like porcupines. I left the crossbow, sadly, and all their other things with them. I kept the pistol and took the truck. I figured they didn’t need it anymore,” she laughed.

 

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