The Girl in the Glass

TALK TO ME

Isabel and I had to help Antony along for a good part of the journey to the opposite side of the mansion. I got under one arm, she got under the other, and I know he must have been in pain and perhaps dizzy, because there were times when it felt like he was bearing down on us with his full weight. I wanted to know how he felt but didn't want to ask, as every time he tried to speak it came out as a rasping cough. Eventually, he let go of us, straightened up, and croaked, "Okay." Still he moved slowly, and we had to wait up for him.

We finally saw light ahead, emanating from the parlor where we'd had our initial meetings with Parks. I called out for Schell as we approached the room. He came to the door, holding the candle, and waved us on. As we entered, he said to me, "Parks is dead."

"How?" I asked, trying to see into the shadows beyond the bubble of the combined candlelight.

Morgan Shaw appeared behind Schell like a specter of some kind herself, her face and hair aglow. "Horrible," she said with an anguished expression.

"It looks like someone drove their thumbs into his eyes. His face is a bloody mess; empty eye sockets. There's nothing we can do here," said Schell.

Antony sidled past Isabel and me. "Boss," he said in a harsh whisper, "we've gotta scram."

"Yeah," said Schell, and then the sound of Antony's voice registered, and he looked up at the big man's face. "What the hell happened to you?"

"We ran into the killer," I said. "I'll tell you in the car. Let's go."

Schell's gaze remained locked on Antony for a moment as he addressed Isabel. "Listen, the butler and the guard are already dead, are there any others still in the house?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "The other maids live in town. They go home at night." For the first time since she'd rescued Antony and me, there were tears in her eyes. Her bottom lip trembled, and I put my arm around her.

"Go," said Schell. Finding our way by the light of the candles, we moved quickly toward the front of the mansion with Isabel leading the way and Antony bringing up the rear.

It was a great relief to finally stand outside in the cool night air where there were no dark corners to conceal murderous things. I took a few deep breaths while waiting for Antony to catch up. When we got to the car, the big man handed the keys to Schell and waited for Morgan, Isabel, and me to squeeze into the backseat. As soon as the Cord was running, Schell put it in gear and took off, driving as fast as he could bear, down the long driveway. We passed the dead guard, lying next to his booth, and two minutes later were out on the road, making for home.

Schell eased off the gas once we had escaped the grounds of the estate. "Talk to me," he said.

I filled him in on our meeting with the phantom, describing as best I could the look of it, the way it moved and its strength. When I was done, Antony, who'd been resting with his eyes closed, sat forward and said, still having trouble speaking in a normal tone, "Whatever he is, this guy's strong, like an animal. I hit him with shots that could crack stone, and he just kept coming. If it wasn't for Isabel here, me and junior would have been up shit creek."

"Can you tell us what happened?" Schell asked her.

"It had been dark outside for only a little while. Then, suddenly, all the lights went out. I left my room and went to find Mr. Parks to see if he needed my help. I found him in the parlor. He'd lit a candle and was sitting at his desk, looking at something. 'The phone line is dead too,' he said to me when I came into the room. I asked him if he wanted me to get Mr. Quigley, the butler, but he said not to worry about it, he'd find him in a few minutes.

"I was heading back to my room, when something passed me in the hallway-like a ghost. I ran back to warn Mr. Parks something was in the house. When I got to the parlor entrance, he was fighting the thing. It had his head in both its hands. Mr. Parks saw me at the doorway and yelled for me to run. As I ran, I heard him screaming for his mother, and I knew he was dying. I hid, and the fantasmo was trying to find me. Then I heard Diego's voice in the hall, came out, and saw them fighting with it. I went to help."

"The police are going to be looking for you," said Schell. "First they'll be looking for your body, and when they don't find it, they'll be looking for you. You and Morgan had both better stay at my place for the time being."

Schell's proposal was met with silence, and eventually he said, "Okay, that's settled."

"Did the killer leave anything behind in the parlor?" asked Antony.

"No," said Schell, "but I took a framed photo that was sitting in the middle of Parks's desk. His body was slumped on top of it. It may or may not be important."

"He was looking at that picture earlier," said Isabel. "I brought him tea in the late afternoon, y el sujataba esa foto, mientras charlaba por telйfono. Later, when I went to tell him dinner was ready, he was still on the phone, still looking at the picture."

"Here," said Morgan and held up the picture I hadn't been aware she'd been carrying. In the thick shadows of the backseat, I could barely make out the scene. It looked like a group of people standing in a black rain. Then a car passed us, and the fleeting illumination from its headlamps revealed the precipitation in the photo to actually be blood splattered on the glass of the frame.

"Who are they?" I asked Schell.

"Well," he said, "Parks is one of them. Who the rest are, I don't know. It could very well have nothing to do with the killing. What we can be relatively certain of is that the person who offed Parks is the same person responsible for the deaths of Charlotte Barnes and the other children."

"The same person who left me the notes," said Morgan.

"Yeah," said Schell. "There's something going on here, and it's got nothing to do with ghosts."

Schell's statement put a cap on the conversation, everyone no doubt mulling some piece of the puzzle or, as in my case, wondering what in God's name it was that Antony had done battle with. Ghosts may not have been a part of it, but this creature seemed far worse than any airy spirit. I was reminded of The Worm's definition of the dybbuk.

After a while, there came a sound from somewhere in the car. At first I thought it was Antony, moaning slightly from his wounds. Eventually, though, it became clear that someone was humming. The moment I realized it was Morgan Shaw, who was sitting to my right, she broke into song-a subdued, sleepy version of "Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams."

I noticed Schell turn his attention from the road and give a quick glance into the backseat. His face was lined with consternation and his brow was furrowed. Antony turned profile then too, and I saw Schell flash a quick glimpse at him and give a brief elevation of the eyebrows, as if to say, What the hell is this? Antony gave a slight shrug, and his face broke into a smile. I'm not sure whether Morgan saw their reactions, but either way she continued unfazed, carrying on to the end with genuine feeling.

Isabel, who had rested her head on my left shoulder, put her lips to my ear and whipered, "La seсora blanca estб loca." Her hand was in mine, and I gave it a squeeze to indicate my agreement. When the last line of the song had come and gone, there was an awkward silence, which was eventually broken by Schell.

"Nicely done, Miss Shaw," he said.

"Thank you, Mr. Schell," she said and then leaned back and closed her eyes.

When we got within a half mile of the house, Schell turned off the headlamps and slowed down to see if we were being followed. We hadn't seen another car for quite a while. He pulled into the drive and around the back, hiding the car from the road.