Spookshow 4: Bringing up the bodies

by Tim McGregor

  Kaitlin seemed bemused by it all. “So everyone keeps telling me.”

  “How do you feel?” Billie turned to the nurse who was adjusting the drip feed in the patient’s arm. “Is she going to be okay?”

  “I think so,” said the nurse. “If she survived being mobbed like this. Can we clear the room, please. It’s far too crowded in here.”

  Billie leaned back, not wanting to leave just yet. Kaitlin gripped her hand. “You stay.”

  Kyle hesitated, shooting a dirty look at Billie before turning to Kaitlin. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Let me talk to Billie for a minute.”

  Kyle nodded his head and reluctantly followed the others from the room.

  “Just a short visit,” the nurse said to both patient and visitor as she left. “I don’t want Kaitlin to overdo it so soon after recovering.”

  Grateful to have a moment alone, Billie took Kaitlin’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you smile, Kaitlin. We were all so worried.”

  “I can see that,” Kaitlin said. “I’m still not sure what all the fuss is about but it’s nice to see.”

  “Are you in pain?”

  “A little,” Kaitlin said, her free hand wrapping over her stomach. “The doctor said I was stabbed.”

  Billie chewed her lip, not wanting to upset her friend. “You were. Back at that house. Don’t you remember?”

  “I don’t. The last thing I remember was being questioned by the police after you found that skeleton in the floor.”

  “You don’t remember anything after that?”

  Kaitlin shrugged. “It’s all a blank. What happened to me?”

  Mockler waited in the hallway outside of the patient’s room, wondering where the hell Gantry had disappeared to. A momentary truce had been called after Billie received the good news about Kaitlin. He said his car was parked just outside, he could get her to the hospital in two minutes. By the time they hit the street, the Englishman had vanished.

  Mockler looked up as everyone shuffled out of the room. He said hello to Billie’s friends. “How is she doing?”

  “She’s great,” Jen beamed. “The doctor said she’s out of danger now.”

  “That’s good news,” Mockler said. “You must be relieved.”

  “We are,” Tammy spoke. “It was just weird the way she woke up like that.”

  “Did she say what happened to her?” he asked. Back on the job, with a million questions that needed answers. “Or where she had gone when she disappeared?”

  “No. Nothing about that,” Jen said.

  Another voice sounded behind them. “Did she say who she was with?”

  As grating as fingernails on a chalkboard. Mockler turned to see Gantry coming up the corridor.

  “Hi John,” Tammy said, giving the man a warm smile. “How have you been?”

  Mockler hid the surprise from his face. Tammy knows Gantry too?

  “Happy your friend is recovering,” Gantry said approaching them, nodding to Mockler. “Hullo detective.”

  Mockler did his best to ignore the smug bastard but his hand balled into hard fist all the same. He looked at the two women. “Does Kaitlin remember anything about what happened to her?”

  “Nothing,” Tammy answered. “Not since the night we saw you at that house.”

  Gantry broke in. “The night Billie found the body?”

  “Yes. Are you a detective too, John?”

  Mockler answered for him. “No. He isn’t.”

  Billie came out of the room and stood before them. “I can’t believe how well she’s doing.”

  Mockler touched her arm. “Is she resting?”

  “No, but I didn’t want her to overdo it. She seems confused about everything.”

  “Excuse me,” Gantry said as he marched to the room.

  Mockler barked at him. “Where are you going?”

  “I just need a minute with her,” Gantry said, closing the door behind him.

  Kaitlin lifted her head when she heard the door click shut. She couldn’t make out who it was. “Kyle?”

  “He’s just outside the door, luv.” Gantry stepped into the light of the bedside lamp. “You gave everyone a good scare.”

  “I didn’t mean to.” Kaitlin squinted at him. “You’re Billie’s friend, aren’t you?”

  “That’s right. It’s good to see you again, Kaitlin.” He stood before the bed. “Do you mind if I have a look at you?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “You’re a doctor?”

  “No. Just nosey.” He placed his hands on the side of her head. “Turn to the light for me and open your eyes.”

  “I must look awful.”

  “Pretty girl like you? It’ll take more than a hospital stay to change that.” Gantry scrutinized her eyes for something. He placed the back of his fingers against her brow to test her temperature. Then he took her hands and studied the palms. “So you don’t remember what happened to you?”

  “No. And no one will tell me.”

  “That’s because they don’t know either. You were missing for a few days.” He rubbed his thumb over her palm as if to clean it.

  Kaitlin furrowed her brow at him. “What are you looking for?”

  “Your future.” He traced a finger down one of the creases in her palm. “Says here you’ve got a long life ahead of you. Lie back and look at the wall.”

  Kaitlin looked up at him. “You’re like Billie, aren’t you?”

  “Not exactly,” he said. “But I work in the same field, so to speak. Kaitlin, will you trust me on something? Even if it seems barkers.”

  “I guess.”

  “I’m going to draw something on your skin. Very small, no one will notice. Will you promise not to wash it off until I tell you to?”

  “Okay,” Kaitlin said without hesitation, as if she heard this request all the time.

  Gantry produced a pen. “Good girl.”

  Billie cooled her heels in the corridor with the others, wondering what Gantry was up to. Keeping one eye on the detective as he paced the floor, she watched Kyle break down again, burying his face in his hands. Tammy went to comfort him, leaving Billie alone with Jen.

  “Where’s Adam?”

  “He’s busy,” Jen said.

  Jen remained rigid and Billie felt the cold front coming off of her oldest friend like a Nordic gale. She still couldn’t account for the cooling of affections between them. In an odd way, Kaitlin and Jen had almost changed places, her oldest friend pulling away while the newer friend drew close. Billie didn’t understand it and she was too tired to hash it out on her own. She tried for small talk. “How’s the shop?”

  “It’s attracting weirdos,” Jen said.

  “What do you mean?”

  Jen folded her arms. “People who saw you on the news. They keep coming into the shop looking for the ‘psychic woman’.”

  “Oh,” Billie said. “I didn’t realize.”

  “As usual.”

  If there had been a soundtrack, it would have screeched to a halt like a needle scratched across vinyl. “What is that supposed to be mean?”

  “Don’t think you’re off the hook just because Kaitlin woke up,” Jen said.

  “Jen, what did I do that pissed you off so bad?”

  Jen turned stony for a moment. Then she looked at Billie. “Which one of us is next, Billie? Tammy? Me?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Which one of us is going to get hurt next because of you?” Jen pivoted on her heel and walked away. “Have you thought about that?”

  Billie was left gaping, unable to respond. Gantry emerged from Kaitlin’s room. “We need to talk.” He glanced at the other people in the hallway. “But not here.”

  Gantry banged open the stairwell door and went down. Mockler went after him, dialling his phone.

  “Who are you calling?” Billie asked.

  “Back-up.”

  “Don’t,” she said. “We need to hear
him out.”

  The detective’s jaw clenched. “You listen to him. I need him locked up.”

  “Ray, do you trust me?”

  He stopped halfway down the stairs. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “It’s a simple question,” she said. “Do you trust me?”

  The heat in his eyes blew off. “Of course.”

  “Then trust me now. Okay?”

  He didn’t like any of it but he relented at her urgency and followed Billie down the stairs.

  “This is bad,” Gantry said when they stepped outside. “Worse than bad.”

  They stood in the courtyard off Copeland Street. The trees were bare, the flowerbeds tilled and covered in burlap. A cold wind riffled their clothes.

  Billie zipped her jacket up. “Is Kaitlin still in danger?”

  “I replaced the marks to protect her.” Gantry cupped his hands around his lighter but the wind kept blowing out the flame. “But she’s not out of the woods. That thing still wants her.”

  “Evelyn Bourdain? What does she want with Kaitlin?”

  “I think she wants your friend’s soul,” Gantry said.

  Mockler exhaled in disgust. “Here we go…”

  Gantry finally got the smoke lit. “That’s it, chum. Keep sneering. That’s gonna help a boatload now.” He dug into a pocket and produced a folded sheet of paper. “There was a bloke who bought that house back in the forties. A pulp writer by the name of Albee. You know the one?”

  “He disappeared,” Mockler answered.

  “That’s the one. He was into all sorts of occult stuff. I think Evelyn was using him. He was working on this when he vanished.”

  Billie took the paper from him and unfolded it. Mockler looked over her shoulder at the strange markings and foreign words. “It’s gibberish,” he said.

  “It’s dead lethal is what it is.”

  “I recognize some of these symbols,” she said. “From the cellar in the Bourdain house. What is this?”

  “It’s a ritual,” Gantry spat. “A fucking deadly one too. Albee cobbled it together from a number of different sources. It’s meant to rip the soul out of someone.”

  The severity of Mockler’s sneer hardened. “Soul?”

  “Like scraping an oyster from its shell.”

  Billie swallowed. “What does Bourdain want with Kaitlin’s soul?”

  “I haven’t the foggiest. Is she psychic, your friend?”

  “I don’t know,” Billie answered. “She might be. Is that why Bourdain went after her?”

  “It’s a blind guess.” Gantry dragged on the cigarette. “What really slays me is the connection to you. How the hell did your old man end up in that house?”

  “He knew her,” Mockler said.

  That raised Gantry’s brow in surprise. “How the hell did he know her?”

  “I don’t know,” Billie said. “He must have come under her influence. He wanted to take my mother to her.”

  “Christ, this just gets weirder and weirder.” Gantry ran a hand through his hair. “Is that when he kidnapped her?”

  Billie nodded her head. “We found his car hidden in a ravine. I thought I finally found her.”

  Gantry looked to the detective. “She wasn’t there?”

  “No. The car was empty.” Mockler twisted up his mouth like he’d tasted something sour. “Supposing you’re right, as ridiculous as it sounds, why would the Bourdain woman want Billie’s mother?”

  “Beats me.”

  “I need to find out what happened to my mom,” Billie said slowly. “She’s been lost for so long. I need to bring her home.”

  Neither man knew what to say. Words, being clumsy things, often fall short of what’s required or intended. Mockler put his hand on the small of her back and she leaned into him.

  Gantry let the moment run out before speaking. “There might be a way to find out. If you’re serious about finding out what happened to her.”

  “How?” she asked, her eyes perking up.

  “It’s a bit gruesome. And it might hurt, Billie. But we could try.”

  Mockler felt his patience running thin again. “What are you suggesting, Gantry?”

  “Where’s her old man’s bones?”

  “At the morgue.”

  “And you can get us in there, yeah?”

  “And do what?” Billie asked.

  “We ask Dad what he did with her.”

  Chapter 18

  THE MORGUE ATTENDANT GLANCED warily at the three individuals before the desk. As a matter of routine, he didn’t get any visitors at his station. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You want to see what?”

  Mockler slid his ident card back into his pocket. “Remains brought in two weeks ago. My name’s on the report as investigating officer.”

  The attendant scrolled down the computer screen. “I see it here,” he said. “And you want to see the remains?”

  “It’s important.”

  The attendant regarded the two people with the homicide detective. “And they are?”

  Nodding to Billie, Mockler said, “Family of the deceased.” He tried not to sneer when indicating Gantry. “Friend of the family.”

  “Bit late for a viewing, detective,” the attendant grumbled as he gathered up some papers.

  “Unusual circumstances. So, can we get this moving?”

  “Give me a minute to pull the remains.” The attendant slid a clipboard across the counter. “Fill this out first. I’ll be a minute.”

  Mockler grimaced as he looked over the form. More goddamn paperwork.

  The attendant escorted them to a brightly lit examination room that smelled cloyingly of disinfectant. Billie looked over the white-tiled walls and the drain in the floor. A stainless steel gurney was positioned in the centre of the room, draped with a plastic sheet. There didn’t appear to be anything underneath it. A few lumps in the fabric, nothing more.

  The morgue attendant stood near the door. Mockler turned to him and said, “Thanks. We’ll take it from here.”

  “I have to be in the room. Procedure.”

  “Not today it isn’t.” Mockler opened the door for the man. “The woman would like a moment in private.”

  The attendant glanced at Billie and Gantry before shrugging and exiting the examination room.

  “Quite a stickler for the rules, he is.” Gantry crossed to the autopsy table and lifted a corner of the sheet. “Not much left of him, is there?”

  Billie was reluctant to venture any closer. She didn’t like this room or the way it smelled or the thing on the gurney. “What exactly are you going to do?”

  “First we’re going to kill these lights. Too bloody bright in here.” Gantry crossed to the workbench and turned on the desktop lamp. He looked at Billie. “Turn off those overheads, yeah?”

  She hit the wall switch and the room plunged into darkness. The single lamp gave a sombre glow to the austere surroundings.

  “That’s better,” Gantry said. Reaching into his jacket, he produced a handful of short candles and returned to the gurney. He looked over the room, as if deciding where to place them. “Which way is north?”

  “There.” Mockler pointed to the wall behind him. “Make this quick, Gantry. My patience is running out.”

  “Keep your knickers on, mate. This is tricky business.” Gantry placed the candles on the floor around the gurney, one each to the four points of the compass. Lighting them all, he returned to the gurney and folded back part of the sheet. “Now the tricky part.”

  Billie tried to see what he was doing but Gantry kept his back to her. His hands worked at something under the crinkly sheet and she could hear him muttering something under his breath but she couldn’t make out what it was. It didn’t sound like English. After a moment, he covered the remains again and stepped back from the table.

  “Billie, come over here,” he said.

  She didn’t move. Up until now she didn’t think Gantry was serious. Or that he would pull some stunt. “Were you
serious about what you said?”

  “Dead serious. But all I can do is set the stage. You need to do the rest. Come on.”

  “Is it dangerous?” Mockler took Billie’s arm. “This parlour trick you’re about to pull?”

  “It can be,” Gantry said. “You need to stay back. Billie, I need you here.”

  Her gut was telling her to turn around and leave but she quashed the panic and approached the table. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Gantry.”

  “It’s daft as hell but if it works, you’ll have some answers.” Gantry touched her arm. “Do you want to know what happened to your mother? Yes or no?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then all you have to do,” he said, “is put your hands on the table.”

  “That’s it?”

  “You’re the conduit, Billie. Seeing the dead is just one small part of what you can do. They channel something through you. Energy, power, whatever it is. You make them solid.” He drew up the sheet to reveal the end of the gurney. “Put your hands on the table. And don’t let go until I say so.”

  He took a step back. She glanced over her shoulder to Mockler and then took a breath and placed her palms flat on the gurney.

  Nothing happened. The metal was cool against her hands and the smell of disinfectant was noxious but that was all.

  The seconds ticked on. Mockler clicked his teeth. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this bullshit.”

  The anticipation dropped from Gantry’s face. He scratched his head. “Shite. Maybe I got the order wrong.”

  The plastic crinkled.

  Everyone shut their mouths and held their breath. Billie startled, instinct telling her to back away.

  “Keep your hands there, Billie,” Gantry hissed.

  Something moved under the sheet, the plastic rising and falling as if something slithered underneath it. Then came the clicking sound. A snap and tick, the sound of dry sticks rattling together. Billie felt her stomach turn, realizing that the bones were clicking back together. The sheet rose from the table, tenting upward until it fell away and Sybil Margaret Culpepper came face-to-face with her father.