he looked back to Marie. 'I cleaned it and oiled it today. Okay?'
Marie felt her cheeks burn again. 'Okay.'
'I know hippie-dippies like myself aren't supposed to believe in such things, but I don't want you to take any chances, all right?'
'All right.'
Brewster cuffed Richie on the shoulder and said, 'Nice to meet you, Richie.'
'Nice to meet you.'
'Talk to you tomorrow, Marie.'
Then Brewster went out the back way to his car.
'You were put into Hastings House as a patient and one night while you were half asleep you felt this compulsion to go to the tower that was a part of the hospital's first building. You had to go through the air conditioning ductwork but you made it. And then upstairs in the tower-'
Emily Lindstrom then described to Richard Dobyns how he stood in the centre of the dusty tower room and watched the snake come out of the crack in the wall and how the snake then entered his body.
She then described the peculiar amber light of the snake's eyes.
He just sat across from her in the small, shadowy apartment, staring.
And then she told him about the killings.
'My brother didn't understand why he killed those women,' she said gently. 'And it wasn't his fault. But he didn't believe that. He just thought that the snake and the way it controlled him was illusory.'
They sat for a time in silence.
She said, 'Are you thirsty?'
'No.'
'Hungry?'
'No.'
'Is there somebody you'd like me to call for you?'
'How did you know about this apartment?'
'I've spent every day since my brother's death-as you may remember, he was shot and killed by a policeman-trying to find out what happened. This apartment is part of it.'
He fell into silence once more.
Traffic noise. Children being called in for dinner. A subtle drop in the temperature; the dusk chill now despite the blooming day.
She said, 'I want to help you.'
'You're going to the police, I suppose.'
'The police won't help us. They won't believe us.'
He shook his head again.
And now he did start sobbing.
He put his hand to his stomach. 'I want to cut this goddamn thing out of me.'
And then he just cried.
She lit a cigarette. She was down to six a day now but she couldn't quit completely. Times like these drove her to light up.
'I'm going to see a TV reporter in a little while,' she said.
Slowly, he quit crying and looked up at her. 'A TV reporter?'
'A woman named Chris Holland.'
'How can she help?'
'I don't know if she can, but I at least want to try. She's covered a lot of murders in this city, including the ones my brother supposedly committed. She'll at least listen, I think.'
'I'm afraid of tonight.'
'Afraid?'
'There was a girl's name in the manila envelope.'
'I saw it. Marie Fane.'
He touched his stomach.
She was slowly becoming aware of the odour; the uncleanness.
'I want you to help me.'
'How?' she said.
He reached in the pocket of his sport coat. 'I stopped by a hock shop this afternoon. I got these.'
In the shadows, he held up a pair of handcuffs.
'While you're gone visiting the reporter, I want you to handcuff me to the bedpost. And you take the key.' He looked at her through his teary eyes. 'I don't want to hurt this Fane girl. I don't want to hurt anybody at all.'
She sighed. She couldn't go to the police but maybe Chris Holland could. She might at least listen to her.
'I'll be glad to help you,' she said. Then, 'Do you know there's some bourbon in the kitchen? Would you like a shot?'
'Yes. Please.'
'I'll be right back'
While she was pouring them two drinks, he said, 'You know there's an old man at Hastings House who knows all about the tower.'
'There is?'
'His name's Gus.'
She brought the drinks in. 'Really?'
'Yes, but whenever he tells people about the tower and the snake, people just smile at him. Think he's crazy.'
'I wonder how long he's known.'
'Years probably. He's been there since the fifties.'
'My God.'
Richard Dobyns sipped his whiskey. 'That's why I'm afraid to tell anybody about what's happened to me. They'll start looking at me the way they look at Gus.'
'There's also a janitor named Telfair who knows about the tower.' She sighed. 'My brother tried to get back to Hastings House. After he killed those women, I mean. So did the other men.'
'Other men?'
She nodded, sipped at her own whiskey. 'Since 1891 there've been six escapees who committed murder and were then killed- either by police or by suicide. Every one of them tried to get back to the tower. One of the men committed suicide by climbing up on the turret next to the tower and jumping.'
He stared at her, miserable again. 'I know why those men committed suicide, believe me.'
'The thing inside you,' she said.
He smiled bitterly. 'The devil made me do it?'
'Something like that, yes.'
He bowed his head and ran a shaky hand through his hair. He looked up at Emily again. 'I called my wife today. I couldn't explain to her, either.'
'I know.'
'I just wanted to see her one more time before-' He paused. 'You'll help me with the handcuffs?'
'Of course.' She glanced at her wristwatch. She had to turn it so she could get the light of the dying day through the edges of the curtain. Nearly 5:45. She had to get going if she was going to be on time meeting Chris Holland.
She stood up and walked over to the chair.
This close, the odour was stomach turning.
She recalled the same smell on her brother.
His eyes had looked like Dobyns's, too. So sad; so sad.
'Come on,' she said softly, taking the handcuffs from him.
She led him into the bedroom.
