The Hunter in the Shadows

by Joab Stieglitz

  “Thank you, folks,” Rosemary said. ‘Take them home now. What has to be said probably won’t ease her troubles.” She turned to the man who had been speaking. “Go on, Ed. You got any more?”

  “Just that them bite marks was on his head and chest. The arms and legs was scratched up, but that was probably from fighting back.”

  “Do you have any idea what might have attacked him?” Anna asked.

  “It were a bear,” another man shouted with certainty. “I seen bear attacks before an’ that were one fer sure!”

  “There ain’t no bears in Boston,” a woman said scornfully. “Unless maybe it got away from the zoo.”

  “It was a monster,” an old woman said. “A fell beast sent from Hell to torment us for abandoning the word —”

  “Will you be quiet, Maggie!” another man said. “Your bible-thumping isn’t gonna get us any closer to the bottom a this.” He shook his head at the woman and then turned to Anna. “All the attacks was the same. Heads and guts torn up. Innards missing.”

  “Were there any tracks or footprints in the snow?” Ogden asked. “Any trails to follow?”

  “The snow was packed down, and there were what looked like big bird tracks once,” another man said. “Three claws forward and one back like this,” he approximated the appendage with his hands, “and about that big. We followed ‘em, but they disappeared once on the street.”

  “So the creature did not fly away,” Anna conjectured. This impressed the crowed, who made sounds of surprise and agreement. “And a creature with feet that size would be… You said the prints looked like those of a bird… Then it must have been perhaps five feet tall. Are you certain that you are not exaggerating?”

  “No, ma’am,” another man said, and some others near him grunted in agreement. “We seen ‘em too. They were about that big and in pairs about two feet apart.” A thought bloomed in his head. “At one point it must have started running, because the steps grew farther apart.” He gestured to his colleagues, who glanced at each other and then spread out down the alley perhaps ten feet from each other. The onlookers gasped.

  Anna considered this information for a moment. The onlookers muttered quietly to each other.

  “The attacks were always at night?” Anna asked. A murmur of agreement was the reply. “And you said that the snow around all of the victims had been packed down so as to clearly reveal these bird-like prints?” Again agreement. “Were the attacks in high-traffic areas?”

  “No, ma’am,” one of the men who had pursued the tracks said. “They was off the beaten path. Most of ‘em in the trees or behind drifts. But they was clear enough.” More murmurs of agreement from the crowd.

  “Then I suspect that the ground was compressed by a tail,” Anna said confidently. “A reptilian tale, like that that of a crocodile.”

  “There ain’t no croc-diles in Boston, ma’am,” the woman who had previously admonished the bear advocate said politely. “And don’t reptiles need heat to even move around? I’ve seen snakes in the summer, and they’re a might sluggish when it’s cool.”

  “Where you seen a snake?” someone asked with disbelief.

  “That ain’t important!” the woman snapped. ‘What matters is that it’s too cold here for a giant crocodile to attack folks at night.” Heated conversation rose from the group. Joseph and Rosemary tried to regain control, but it was a loud, anguished female voice that cowed them.

  “What about the missing?!” she cried.

  Chapter 12

  March 11, 1930

  “You’ve gone on at length about the dead,” the older woman said with a raised fist, “but what about the missing?” The crowd split before her as she approached Anna and stopped directly in front of her. “You’re looking for the thing that did the killing, but no one cares about all those folks who just disappeared.”

  “We can see the dead, Helen,” Joseph said in a sympathetic tone, “but there’s no way to know if other just ran off—”

  “My Angela didn’t run off!” Helen shouted. “She was taken for some evil purpose. I can feel it in my bones.”

  “When did this happen?” Anna asked. “Tell me all about it.”

  Helen’s anger melted into worry as she absorbed the sincerity in Anna’s voice. She lowered her fist and started ringing her hands. Anna put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

  “Angela wasn’t the first girl to be taken,” Helen started quietly. “She’s quiet and shy, not like them other girls.”

  Anna nodded encouragingly.

  “She’s been gone almost three months.”

  “What does she look like?” Ogden said. Helen jumped at the soldier’s voice. “Excuse me,” he said “What does Angela look like? What was she wearing?”

  “My Angela is just eighteen years. She’s small. She’s has black hair and brown eyes, and was wearing a long-sleeved white dress.”

  “When was the last time anyone saw Angela?” Joseph asked the assembly. A din of voices rose. Joseph cleared his throat and looked at one man. “Efrem, you first.”

  “I remember seeing Angela over by the fountain one night,” the young man said. “She looked like she was talking to someone out of view. She had a shawl on over the dress. She was worried about whoever she was talking to.”

  “When was that?” Helen asked.

  “It was on the night of that last full moon,” Efrem replied. “I remember because whoever she was talking to was in one of the only dark places that night.”

  “Did anyone else see Angela that night?”

  “I remember her asking about a lost child,” a woman said. “Yes. She was looking for Frances McCree. The girl turned up a little later, but I don’t remember seeing Angela again.”

  “Did the killings start before or after the disappearances?’ Anna asked. Again, there was a murmur among the small gathering.

  “The first body was found about a month ago,” a man said. “That was Leroy Rainey.” Sounds of agreement rose.

  “Then there was Gilbert Meldrum,” another voice said from among the crowd.

  “That was about a week later,” Joseph added.

  “When did the people start going missing?”

  “As I said,” Joseph replied, “people come and go from Hooverville all the time. But the first person to leave family behind was Jessica Hilliard. That was just after the snows first fell in November.”

  “Tell me about her,” Anna said.

  “Jessica was a forward gal,” Rosemary said disapprovingly. “She was a wild one. Pretty and outgoing. She was the one the boys chased. Though they didn’t have to chase very hard —” Rosemary cut herself off abruptly.

  “So she was friendly and outgoing,” Anna said, “and probably likely to approach someone new or who she found interesting.”

  “You could say that,” Rosemary said evenly. “More likely the strangers came to her. Always dolled up and trying to dress trendy.”

  “I am getting a picture of Jessica,” Anna said. “What does she look like?”

  “She’s about your size,” a young man said to Anna, “with dark hair cut short like yours.” He glanced to another man near him. “And she has a nice figure.”

  “Come to think of it,” another woman in the crowd said, “Marie Roush looks a bit like you too.”

  “How so?” Ogden asked.

  “She was also small with short black hair,” the woman said.

  “What of the missing men?” Anna asked.

  “All of the missing ones are young women,” Helen said flatly. “That’s why the coppers don’t care. They think they took up as whores.”

  “And all the dead are men?” Ogden conjectured.

  “Most of them,” Joseph said. “Four of the five attacked were men. Ella Hughes escaped before her attacker could do her in.”

  “May I speak with Miss Hughes?” Anna asked with urgency.

  “She hasn’t spoken to anyone since that night,” Rosemary said. “She’s been in the hospital ever since.�
��

  “What can you tell us about Ella?” Anna asked the gathering.

  “Well,” Joseph said, “she matched the description of the other two. Small, dark hair cut short, young, pretty.”

  “Ella’s da tough one,” an older woman with a thick accent said. “She were fendin’ off dem young bucks b’fore she were twelve year. A beauty she were.” The woman wiped away a tear. “Not no more. That beast done tore away half of her face.”

  “So Ella could defend herself,” Anna said in a supportive tone.

  “Yea,” the weeping woman said. “My Ella were good at fisticuffs, and not afraid to kick or butt with her head.”

  “So,” Anna said, looking at the notes she had been making, “we have three men, Emil, Leroy, and Gilbert, who were all found dead in the vicinity of Hooverville, and Ella, who got away. And all appeared to have been attacked by a giant, clawed, bird-like beast.” She flipped some pages. “Then we have Angela, Jessica, and Marie. They are all small women with short dark hair.”

  “Don’t forget Katie Haskins,” a voice said.

  “Who is Katie Haskins?” Anna asked.

  “Katie was another free-spirit,” Joseph said before Rosemary could reply. “She went missing after Marie and before Angela.”

  “So we have four missing women, and one wounded woman,” Ogden said, “who all seem to resemble Anna, and three dead men.”

  The alley erupted in unintelligible chatter. Anna gave Ogden a covert glare with her eyes, and then raised her hands to calm them.

  “We have identified eight people whose fates may be related,” Anna said in a commanding tone. “What else can you tell us? Have there been any other strange or unusual events in Hooverville? Or people lurking about who do not live here? Any wild or feral animals seen in the area?”

  “Cain Dickson’s been seen around,” a voice said.

  “Who is Cain Dickson?” Anna asked.

  “Cain Dickson was asked to leave Hooverville,” Joseph said.

  “A sick pup that one!”

  “Good fer nothin’!”

  “Satan were too good for him!”

  “Cain Dickson was asked to leave Hooverville,” Joseph repeated, “because he was disruptive, rude, and ill-mannered.”

  “How so?” Ogden asked.

  “He leered at the women and behaved inappropriately with the children. He was caught tempting some little ones into seclusion. The police took him away, but he’s been seen around now and again.”

  “How does Dickson’s story coincide with the attacks and disappearances?” Anna asked. A muttering from the crowd was silenced by Joseph with a gesture.

  “Cain was arrested after Emil and Leroy were found, but before Gilbert.” Joseph sought and received agreement from his neighbors. “The police said that Cain was the murderer, but Gilbert was killed after he was taken away, and his remains were mauled just like the others.”

  “And this fellow has been observed lurking around Hooverville recently?” The assembly made affirming noises. “Then I would like to meet him. Let us know the next time he is seen.”

  Chapter 13

  March 12, 1930

  Anna waited in the lobby of the First Precinct. She had been sitting patiently for over an hour after requesting to speak with Detective John Halley, who the residents of Hooverville identified as the investigating officer for the deaths and disappearances there. Anna watched as the desk sergeant glanced her way periodically after answering the telephone.

  While she waited, she reread the response to her telegram from Dr. Feldman. It confirmed that Ogden Shroud had served in the American Expeditionary Force in France, and later in Koblenz, Germany. Shroud had been given a medical discharge, but there were no additional details. Feldman indicated that his various sources had been unusually uninformative when he had pressed for additional information.

  So what Shroud had told Anna was partially true, but Feldman’s sources did not confirm the more fantastic aspects of his tale. Something about the soldier inclined Anna to trust him. He had been truthful and helpful so far, and showed no signs of ulterior motives. But he could be adept at concealing his true self, either through training or as a consequence of whatever he experienced.

  “Dr. Rykov?” a squat, muscular man in a neat, pinstriped suit said with an Irish accent. “John Halley,” he added, holding out his hand. Sergeant Flynn said that you had asked to speak with me.”

  “That is correct, detective,” Anna said, rising to her feet and grasping his hand so tightly that he winced. “I have been waiting for some time while your sergeant confirmed each time you called him that I was still waiting. I do not appreciate such treatment.” She released his hand, and the detective unconsciously shook it to ease the pain. “Where can we speak in private?”

  “We can go to the Chief of Detectives’ Office,” Halley replied, following Anna as she walked purposefully toward the stairs behind the sergeant’s desk. “He’s out today,” he said as he caught up to her. “Right this way.”

  A few minutes later, Anna sat in a comfortable chair at a coffee table while the detective fetched her some tea. She had worn a conservative, skirted suit for the meeting so that the detective would not discount her on account of her femininity. She had noted the coffeepot in the kitchen, but asked for tea to keep the detective off guard. Her initial assessment of the man had been correct. He was a weak man hiding behind the authority of a badge. He had probably done as little as possible with respect to the Hooverville incidents, possibly under direction from his superiors. She needed to keep the upper hand if she was to learn anything from him.

  “There you are, miss —” Halley said, offering Anna a cup and saucer.

  “Doctor Anna Rykov,” Anna said as she glanced at the coffee table. The detective set it down before seating himself on the chair across from Anna.

  “Yes, of course.” He was clearly nervous. “Um, what can I do for you, Dr. Rykov?”

  “I want to you to tell me all that you know about the gruesome murders of three men and the disappearances of four women in Hooverville. You were assigned to investigate all of these crimes. I want to know everything about them.”

  “Well, um, I’ll have to check the files and —”

  “Do so!” Anna commanded, “Or take me to them and I will review them myself.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t give you the files —”

  “Then tell me what I want to know! Now!” Anna produced a notebook from her purse. “Start with a man named Emil Wilson.”

  “Oh, um, well, yes. Emil Wilson was an out-of-work carpenter. He and his family were living in Hooverville after the Hughes furniture factory closed.”

  “This I know,” Anna spat. “Tell me of his murder. What evidence was collected? Who did you speak to? What were your conclusions? Get on with it!”

  “Um, er, as I recall, he was the victim of an animal attack.”

  “An animal attack? In the center of Boston? Among a crowd of people! Poppycock!” Anna scribbled rapidly in her notebook. “How did you validate this conclusion?”

  “The evidence was plain. He’d been slashed and bitten, and, um, partially eaten.”

  “By that, you mean that his internal organs were missing. And yet his arms and legs, the usual targets for predators in the wild, were unharmed, save for defensive wounds.”

  “Well, yes, the attack was suspicious for those reasons, but there was no cause to suspect otherwise.”

  “Tell me about Leroy Rainey.”

  “The Rainey case was similar. He was slashed and bitten, and his innards were missing.”

  “His internal organs,” Anna interjected. “Specifically, his brain, liver, heart, and kidneys. Did you know that these very organs have been the ultimate goal for tribal warriors around the world for centuries? They are believed to bestow the one who eats them with the spirit, vitality, conviction, and health of the victim.”

  “Really?”

  “And I understand that you arrested Cain Dickson for
both of these crimes.”

  “Yes,” the detective said with renewed energy, “that’s right. Dickson was picked up based on the testimony of character witnesses in Hooverville.”

  “But he was not convicted?!”

  “There wasn’t any evidence to support charges of murder,” the detective said, deflated, “but he was charged with lewd behavior.”

  “And then Gilbert Meldrum was killed in the same manner, with Cain Dickson again seen loitering around Hooverville at night.” Anna give the detective a disdainful look. “And what of the missing women?”

  “People have to fend for themselves —”

  “Do not tell me that these three women, four if you include Ella Hughes, entered into a life of prostitution or just wandered off. Two of them,” Anna consulted her notes, “Jessica Hillard and Marie Roush, were known to be gregarious and possibly lascivious, but Angela Connor was shy and quiet, while Ella Hughes is said to be private and quite an assertive woman.”

  “It’s not uncommon for downtrod —”

  “No woman will voluntarily enter such a life! Even under the most dire circumstances. Most of the time, the women are forced into sexual servitude by domineering men who coerce them into it.” Anna scowled. “All of these women disappeared after Cain Dickson was released. Do you not think the man has changed his methods after being caught? I find the lack of proper investigations most distressing,” Anna said as she rose, “and I will make my thoughts known to people who will see that things change!”

  Without another word, and before the detective could react, Anna walked briskly out of the office and down the stairs.

  ◆

  When Anna emerged from the stairwell into the lobby of the precinct she was immediately grabbed by the arm, hustled into a nearby interrogation room, sat in a chair before a table, and and cuffed by her right arm to a table. The man who had brought her into the room stood behind her, but she could hear as he went through her purse.

  Before her was another man. This one was in his early thirties, with short, black hair, carefully groomed. He had sensitive eyes, which were contradicted by a serious demeanor. He wore an expensive gray suit, and his blue-and-red-striped tie was crisp with an expertly tied knot. He was reading from a file when Anna entered, and he glanced at it and then at Anna several times before he spoke.