The Beast House

“The Beast House tour? No. When was this?”

“The very day Maggie Kutch opened it up for folks. I was just a lad. I shined shoes over at Hub’s barber shop for better than two weeks, saving every penny and just waiting for Maggie to start the tours. Nobody in town talked about anything else, once it got out what she was up to—with the dummies and all. My mother, she said it was an abomination against God.” He took another long drink. “I knew she’d throw a fit if she found out I aimed to visit the place, so I kept it to myself and went over to go in with the first bunch. You’ve never seen such a crowd. Half the folks in town was there, lined up to buy tickets. I knew right then word’d get back to her. I just about gave up on the idea, but I just had to go in. The thing of it was, you see, I half expected to find my father inside.”

“He was dead by this time?” Gorman asked.

“Aye. But I knew it was Bobo done him in, and I figured Maggie might have him in wax. I just had to see for myself, you know.” He swallowed a mouthful of martini. “Well, my father wasn’t there. I ‘spect I should’ve been glad, but I wasn’t. Damnation, he belonged in there! He deserved it. Bobo was his in the first place. He found it and brought it to town and it killed him. If anybody was gonna be on display like that, it should’ve been him. When the tour got done, I stepped myself right up to Maggie Kutch and said, ‘Where’s my father?’ She gave me a smile that made me want to smash her face, and said, ‘Why, son, I hear he run off with that tart from Wanda’s.’”

“Wanda’s?”

“That was a local house of ill repute. Well, everybody on the tour laughed fit to bust. I ran off. It was all I could do to keep from crying, having me and my father shamed that way in front of everyone.”

“That must have been awful for you.”

“Aye.” He drank all but a shallow puddle, stared into the glass, and finished it off. “If that weren’t bad enough, I got a whipping for my trouble. Reverend Thompson, he saw me go in with the others and wasn’t he quick to tell on me? Mother, she laid into me with a switch so I couldn’t sit down for a fortnight.”

Shaking his head as if in sympathy, Gorman stood up. “Let me freshen your drink for you, Captain.” He took the man’s glass to the pitcher and filled it. Sitting down again, he said, “Tell me about your seafaring days. You must have seen a lot of the watery part of the world.”

“Not all that much. I run a fishing boat off the dock in Brandner Bay. That’s just up the coast about ten miles.” He took a drink. “I always had a yearn to take a voyage. Fact is, I wanted to find me that island where my father come across Bobo. I figured I’d go in and see if there was more of them creatures. I had it in my head to wipe them out. But I never got around to it. Tell you the truth, I just couldn’t force myself to leave. It was like I had to stay in Malcasa and keep an eye on Beast House. It’s my destiny, you know, to stalk Bobo and lay it low.”

“Do you think there might be surviving…?” Gorman heard the sound of a car engine. “Excuse me for a moment,” he said. Getting up, he stepped to the window. He pushed aside the curtain and peered out, cupping his hands beside his eyes to close off the reflection.

Two cars, a Mustang and a white Omni, drove through the courtyard. They turned toward the duplex of Abe and Jack. They stopped.

“Don’t know whether there’d be survivors or not,” Captain Frank mumbled. “I ‘spect there might be.”

Gorman watched the car doors open. Tyler, Abe and Nora climbed out of the Omni.

“Curious thing,” Captain Frank went on, “there being no wildlife on the island but those creatures, and them carnivorous. I given it a lot of thought.”

Abe opened the Mustang’s passenger door. He and Jack helped someone out.

“I figure they polished off all the game, back somewhere along the line.”

In the light from Abe’s porch, he saw that the passenger was a girl. Her hair was mussed. Her back was toward Gorman as they led her to the door. She wore a blanket that draped her body from shoulders to feet.

“So I ‘spect, since they’re meat-eaters, they must’ve kept going by eating each other.”

Though Gorman couldn’t see the girl’s face, he knew she must be Janice Crogan. He felt sick.

“You get that kind of thing happening a lot in your primitive cultures. Humans. They need their protein, you know. So they have wars with themselves, eat the ones killed in battle. Used to happen all the time.”

Gorman turned away from the window. Stunned, he dropped onto the edge of his bed.

Janice Crogan.

He’d sent those two bastards out to take photos, and they’d come back with Janice Crogan.

He lifted his glass off the floor and drank.

“So I figure,” Captain Frank said, “that what my father and the crew of the Mary Jane ambushed was maybe just one tribe of the hellish beasts.”

Maybe it’s not Janice, Gorman thought.

Who else could it be?

It certainly looked like her, but he couldn’t be sure without seeing her face.

“If I’m not wrong, there’s gonna be another tribe out there. Maybe two or three. Aye, who knows, the island might be…”

“I have to leave,” Gorman said. He stood up. “I’d like to have you stay and talk, but some friends of mine just showed up.”

“Well, I want to thank you for…”

“Here.” Gorman capped the gin bottle. “Why don’t you take this along with you?”

“Oh, I couldn’t take your bottle.”

“Please.” He thrust it toward the old man. “Have yourself a nightcap when you get back to your bus. I’ll be along in the morning and we’ll have a copy made of your scrapbook.”

“A’right, matey. Thanks.”

Gorman picked up his room key and opened the door for Captain Frank. He stood beneath his porch light and stared across the courtyard at Abe’s bungalow. His heart pounded furiously. In spite of the night’s chill, sweat dripped down his face.

Captain Frank stowed the scrapbook and gin bottle in the saddlebags of his motorcycle. He mounted the bike. He stood on the starter, and the engine grumbled awake. With a wave he turned the bike, gunned it past the rear of Gorman’s Mercedes, and sped toward the road.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Someone knocked on the door as Abe held the phone to his ear and listened to the faint ringing.

“Who is it?” Jack called.

“Gorman Hardy,” came the voice from outside.

Abe nodded. Jack pulled the door open and Gorman entered. The man, looking flushed and nervous, scanned the room. “What happened?” he asked.

Jack put a finger to his lips.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“The john.”

Gorman started for the bathroom, but Jack grabbed his arm. “Just wait,” Jack told him.

“Malcasa Point Police Department,” said the voice on the phone. “Officer Matthews speaking. May I help you?”

“I spoke to one of your people this morning.”

“Did you get the pictures?” Gorman asked Jack.

“Sure.”

“An Officer Purcell,” Abe went on. “I realize he’s probably off duty, but I’d like to speak with him. It’s urgent.”

Gorman stared at Abe.

“I’ll try to reach the chief at his home,” Matthews said. “Give me your name and number, and I’ll have him call you back right away.”

“Fine.” Abe gave his name. He read the Welcome Inn’s number off the phone plate.

“Very good, Mr. Clanton.”

“Tell him it’s extremely important. If you can’t get through to him, get back to me yourself.”

“I’ll do that.”