[Lady Justice 39] - Lady Justice and the Raven

by Robert Thornhill

  From the look on her face, Marie must have felt it too. She actually seemed to be startled.

  She turned my hand over and began to trace the lines with her fingers.

  “You have recently stared death in the face.”

  I remembered seeing Galen’s twelve gauge pointed at Kevin and me.

  “You were spared, but others were not.”

  Then I remembered seeing the charred bodies of Galen and Bertha Unger.

  Marie released my hand, reached for her handbag, and pulled out a deck of Tarot cards. She closed her eyes, shuffled the cards, and laid them out on the table.

  She spread her hands and moved them slowly over the cards. She suddenly stopped, opened her eyes, and turned over the card where her hands had stopped.

  The card she turned over was The Tower.

  I saw her shudder.

  I grimaced. “From your reaction, I’m guessing that was not a good thing.”

  When she looked at me, I could see the dread in her eyes.

  “The Tower is the most feared card in the deck. It foretells unexpected catastrophe, turmoil, upheaval, ruin, cataclysm, punishment.”

  She quickly picked up her cards and put them in her handbag. “I must go.” Then she turned to me. “Take care, for the coming days will be fraught with peril.” She turned and walked away.

  We all just sat there with our mouths open. Jerry was the first to speak.

  “Walt, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know ---.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” I replied. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Maggie grabbed my arm. “I think we should go.”

  Everyone nodded.

  The ride home was eerily silent.

  I knew what everyone was thinking, because I was thinking the same thing --- was Marie Toussaint just putting on a good act, or was an unexpected catastrophe waiting for me in the days ahead?

  CHAPTER 7

  The next morning, I was still pondering Marie Toussaint’s dire prediction when the phone rang. The voice of the caller made my blood run cold.

  “Mr. Williams, this is Roderick Unger.”

  His voice was so low and raspy I could barely understand him.

  “Roderick,” I replied. “Is everything okay?”

  I heard a deep sigh. “Just before you left, you handed me your card and said if there’s anything you could do for me, just call.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “I’m making that call. I hope you can help me.”

  “Of course. What’s going on?”

  “It’s Madeline. She has passed from this life. She is no longer with us.”

  “Roderick, I’m so sorry.”

  “My call is not to elicit sympathy. For many months we knew this day would come. What I need is your assistance.”

  “To do what?”

  “To move Madeline’s body to the vault we’ve prepared for her. I alone am too weak to accomplish the task.”

  “A vault? Have you called the authorities?”

  “That was not her wishes. Due to the unusual nature of her illness, undoubtedly the doctors would want to probe and defile her body in search of answers. Unfortunately, we both know that the answer lies with our incestuous grandfather. We have prepared a vault beneath our home where my sister can rest in peace. Will you help me?”

  “I --- I suppose so, but are you sure this is legal?”

  “Of course. I would not ask you to participate in an illegal activity. Years ago, knowing this day would come, we filed the necessary papers with the county commission.”

  “If that’s the case, of course I’ll help. I’m on my way.”

  On the way to the house of Unger, I couldn’t help but compare what was happening now to Poe’s story, The Fall of the House of Usher.

  Twins, Roderick and Madeline, were both suffering from a rare affliction. Madeline dies and is placed in a vault, but days later Roderick discovers that Madeline was still alive when interred in the vault. I shuddered just thinking about it.

  I decided that before helping Roderick move his sister, I would be certain she was truly deceased.

  Unfortunately, that decision brought to mind one of Jerry’s corny jokes.

  Two hunters are in the woods when one of them collapses. His hunting buddy immediately calls 911. “My friend isn’t breathing,” he shouts into the phone. “What should I do?” “Relax,” the operator tells him. “I can help. First, let’s make sure he’s dead.” There’s silence, and then a gunshot. The guy gets back on the phone and says, “OK, now what?”

  “Thanks, Jerry!”

  As I pulled up the gravel driveway and the house came into view, the same foreboding feeling that I experienced on my first visit returned. It was almost as if I had just left a world of light and life, and entered a world of darkness and decay.

  I parked, walked to the door, and knocked.

  The first time I saw Roderick, I was struck by his gaunt countenance and the pallor of his flesh. The specter that greeted me when the door opened was even more grotesque. The wrinkled skin clinging to the cheekbones on his face had the appearance of an apple that had gone bad.

  His gnarled fingers pulled the door open just enough for me to enter.

  “Mr. Williams. Thank goodness you’re here. Come. Madeline awaits.”

  I followed him into what must have been Madeline’s bedroom. From all appearances, the poor woman died in her sleep. She was lying on her bed, arms crossed, and dressed in a flowing white gown.

  The moment I saw her, the old Jonah Jones ballad, St. James Infirmary, popped into my head.

  I went down --- down to St. James Infirmary.

  Saw my baby, laying there.

  She was stretched out on a long white table.

  So sweet, so cool, so fair.

  Roderick looked at her and smiled. “At last, my Madeline is at peace, free from the torments of this God forsaken place. She shall suffer nevermore.”

  I noticed that the huge black cat was perched on the top of the dresser keeping watch over his mistress.

  Remembering Poe’s Madeline, I stepped forward. “Do you mind if I examine her?”

  “Not at all,” he replied, stepping aside.

  The moment I pressed my fingers against her neck, I was absolutely certain our Madeline was no longer of this world. Her skin was cool to the touch and there was no pulse. Rigor mortis had rendered her limbs unmovable.

  Roderick touched my arm. “If you’re satisfied, can we get on with it?”

  “Certainly,” I replied. “But before we move her, I’d like to see where we’re taking her.”

  “Of course. Follow me.”

  Roderick led me through the kitchen to a door which opened into the basement. As I followed him down the steps, a musty smell assaulted my senses.

  On the far wall was another door. When he opened it and turned on a light, I found myself staring at the underground vault that would soon be the final resting place of Madeline Unger.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Beautiful was not the word that popped into my head as I gazed into the vault, but I didn’t want to disappoint Roderick. “Yes, absolutely!”

  “Very well then. My sister awaits.”

  As we headed back up the stairs, I asked. “Have you thought about how to transport Madeline to the vault?”

  “We’ll simply wrap her in the sheet on which she’s laying. Then we’ll move her with me at her head and you at her feet.”

  It sounded simple enough.

  I took one last look at Madeline before we wrapped the sheet around her frail body. Thankfully, in her emaciated state, she couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds. I wondered even then, if Roderick, frail himself, could hold up his end.

  As we picked up the sheet, I soon discovered that a body in rigor does not bend. It suddenly made sense why a dead body is called a stiff. It was with some difficulty that we navigated the path through the door, across the kitchen, and down the steps with our rigid pack
age.

  When Madeline was finally in her vault, Roderick turned to me. “Thank you so much. As you can see, that would have been impossible without your assistance.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  “Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to be alone with my sister before I seal her tomb. I hope you understand.”

  “Of course. I can find my way out.”

  As I drove away from the house, I couldn’t help but wonder what macabre ritual was taking place in that cold, dark basement.

  As Henry Baskerville watched the old man drive away, he sensed that the end had finally come for Madeline Unger, and that Roderick’s demise would be coming soon. He would bide his time and watch.

  CHAPTER 8

  Two days later, Maggie and I had just finished cleaning up the supper dishes and had retired to our reclining loveseat. I clicked on the TV looking forward to a relaxing evening with my wife.

  Across the screen in bold red letters were the words WEATHER ALERT.

  The weatherman, standing beside a radar screen, was pointing to a huge red blob heading toward Kansas City.

  “Accuweather radar shows a strong cell approaching the greater Kansas City area. In the next hour, we can expect strong thunderstorms and damaging winds as high as fifty to sixty miles per hour. Lightening and nickel-sized hail are also a possibility.”

  Maggie grabbed my hand. “I’m so glad we don’t have to be out in that. This is a good evening to curl up by the fire.”

  We actually don’t have a fireplace, but I knew what she meant.

  At that moment, the phone rang.

  “Get it or ignore it?” I asked.

  Maggie, the practical one, said to get it. Since most everyone we knew was in their dotage, someone might need our help.

  “Hello.”

  “Mr. Williams! This is Roderick Unger. Something dreadful has happened!”

  I could tell from the tone of his voice that he was terrified.

  “What is it Roderick? What’s happened?”

  “It’s Madeline. We’ve buried her alive!”

  I couldn’t believe what I had just heard.

  “Roderick! I assure you that’s not possible. I examined Madeline myself.”

  “It was the nature of her affliction,” he replied. “She was not dead, but in catatonic slumber. Then, when she awoke --- ohhh, it’s just too horrible to comprehend.”

  I seriously doubted that catatonic slumber would account for the rigor mortis.

  “What makes you think she’s alive?”

  “I heard her mournful cries and the scraping of her nails as she tried in vain to escape the darkness of the vault.”

  The image of Poe’s Madeline came to mind, and I shuddered.

  “Roderick, have you not opened the vault to see for yourself?”

  “I have not --- and I will not --- at least not alone. If she indeed lives, I will need help to return her to her bed. Will you come? I’m begging you.”

  I didn’t know what to say. The last thing I wanted to do was get out in the impending storm, and I knew for a fact that Maggie would think I was stark raving mad.

  “Please!” Roderick begged. “Please! I have no where else to turn.”

  Reluctantly, I agreed. “I’ll be right over.”

  “Oh, thank you!”

  I hung up and turned to Maggie. “I have to go out for a while.”

  As I was telling her the gist of my conversation with Roderick, she gave me the ‘I can’t believe you’re so stupid!’ look.

  “You’re going out in this weather to prove to some nut-job that the two of you didn’t bury his sister alive?”

  “Something like that. I won’t be gone long. Just long enough to open the vault with Roderick to assure him that everything is all right.”

  “Unbelievable! I don’t suppose there’s any way to talk you out of this?”

  “Maggie, the man is frantic. He needs me.”

  She nodded. “All right! Go! But call me when you get there and call when you’re coming home. I’ll be worried sick all the time you’re gone.”

  “I promise.”

  The storm hit just as I was pulling away from our apartment. Huge drops of rain pelted the windshield and lightning pierced the dark sky. I felt the gusts of wind blow against the car making steering treacherous.

  In spite of it all, I had to smile when I thought of the old cliché, it was a dark and stormy night.

  I reached the Unger house without incident, but when I pulled up in front of it, I knew I would be soaked to the skin by the time I reached the front door. I had brought an umbrella, but the wind was so intense I knew it would be turned inside out the minute I stepped out of the car.

  As promised, I gave Maggie a call to tell her I had arrived in one piece.

  As I prepared to make a mad dash to the door, a bolt of lightning illuminated the sky and struck nearby.

  Taking a deep breath, I headed for the front alcove. I grabbed the huge claw and knocked hard. A moment later, Roderick threw open the door.

  “Come inside! Quickly!”

  I thought Roderick was in bad shape the last time I saw him, but in two days, his condition had deteriorated even more. His face was gaunt and his eyes seemed to have sunk deep into his skull.

  I followed him into the parlor. “Please, sit. I know you must think me mad, so before we go to the vault, I want you to hear what I’ve heard --- my poor sister wailing as she tries to free herself from her tomb.”

  I sat and listened, but all I could hear was the wind whistling outside. It blew with such force that the heavy drapes covering the windows swayed rhythmically. I sat, mesmerized, and a passage from The Raven, by Poe popped into my mind.

  And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain thrilled me --- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before.

  “There!” Roderick exclaimed, jolting me from my reverie, “did you hear it?”

  “The only thing I’ve heard is the wind,” I replied.

  “But it was there!” he protested, “as plain as can be.”

  Then I remembered that a manifestation of Roderick’s affliction was a heightening of all his senses, including hearing.

  “Roderick, your hearing may be much more acute than mine. I may never be able to hear what you hear. Let’s just go to the vault and see what’s there.”

  He took a deep breath. “Very well, but you’ll see that I’m not mad. My sister is alive!”

  I followed him to the vault, and as we stood before the huge door, I heard what Roderick had heard from upstairs. It was an unmistakable wail, and the sound of nails scratching on the other side.

  My blood ran cold as I imagined the terror of the poor soul who awakened to find herself entombed in the dark, dank vault. How could I have been so wrong? I examined her myself. Madeline Unger was surely dead!

  Together, we removed the heavy bar that held the door in place. I dreaded what we were about to see when the door was finally open.

  Resolutely, we tugged on the door --- it opened wide --- and out stepped the huge black cat. Undoubtedly, it had hidden itself near the body of its mistress, unknown to Roderick who sealed the door.

  Madeline, still dead, lay just as we left her.

  I was about to speak, when there was a clap of thunder that shook the very foundation of the old house. The lights flickered, and then went out. I was certain that the house had been struck by lightning.

  I fumbled for my cell phone and found the button for the light. My heart caught in my throat when the faint rays from the phone revealed bits of cement falling from the roof of the vault. The lightning strike had done more than just put out the lights. It had weakened the old structure which now seemed to be crumbling down around us.

  I grabbed Roderick. “We’ve got to get out of here! Fast!”

  He pulled away. “No! I’m not leaving my sister here alone.”

  There was another strike and I felt the building shudder.

  “Roderick
! Please! Let’s go!”

  “No, you go. Save yourself. My place is with my sister. It is meant to be.”

  I could see there was no use arguing with him. “Last chance. I’m leaving.”

  “Yes, go, but would you promise me one thing?”

  “Of course.”

  “Find Jacob, and tell him that we love him.”

  “Jacob? Who’s Jacob?”

  “Our son.”

  “Whose son?”

  “Madeline and me. He is our son. The moment he was old enough to understand his lineage, he left and we’ve never heard from him again. Will you do that last thing for me?”

  I was dumbfounded. “Uhhh, sure.”

  He pulled an envelope from his pocket. “When you find Jacob, please give him this.”

  “You just happened to have that with you?”

  “Of course not. For days now, I’ve seen my imminent demise. Regardless of how this evening’s events unfolded, knowing you are a private investigator, I planned to make this request. Will you promise to find him and deliver this epistle?”

  “I --- I’ll do my best.”

  “Thank you. Now go!”

  I had just made it to my car when another blinding flash illuminated the sky and the bolt struck the chimney. Bricks flew, one striking my car. The old building shuddered again, and moments later, it seemed to implode, much like an old building brought down by a destruction crew.

  In a matter of minutes, it was over. Nothing was left but a pile of rubble.

  I had just witnessed the Fall of the House of Unger.

  Henry Baskerville watched in awe as lightning struck the old house a second time. Moments later, after the house collapsed, he knew that both Roderick and Madeline had perished.

  This time, after the same old man who had been there twice before drove away, Henry followed. He knew that if what he was seeking actually existed, the old man would have it in his possession.

  CHAPTER 9

  The next day, first responders found the crushed bodies of Roderick and Madeline Unger under the debris of the fallen house.