The Hanging Hill

48

After summoning Murphy, Butler, and several other deceased criminal masterminds, Grimes and the Tunisians had taken a four-hour break from conjuring demons, vacating the stage just before the Sunday-afternoon performance of Bats in Her Belfry.

Immediately after the matinee, however, when the audience was gone, the lobby was empty, and the doors were once again barred, Reginald Grimes returned to center stage to form a necromancy circle with the three other men.

“Who’s next?” he asked Hakeem without much enthusiasm.

“Lilly Pruett.”

The name sounded familiar. A distant childhood memory. Something to do with girls skipping rope.

His mind was wandering. Grimes was exhausted. Dead tired. He couldn’t remember half of the names of the spirits he had summoned up from the underworld.

“She was originally summoned by the professor,” Hakeem explained. “Now she must answer to you!”

“How much more of this must I endure before you unlock the trunk’s final compartment?”

Hakeem unfurled a long scroll filled with names. “Fortunately, a few of the spirits your grandfather was familiar with still reside here in the theater. William Bampfield …”

“Bampfield? Who’s he?”

“An early settler. A Pilgrim, I believe you call them. He stole his neighbor’s cattle, killed his wife and two daughters. Claimed the devil told him to do it. Went to the gallows.”

“Wonderful,” Grimes said sarcastically. “And what, pray tell, do I want with him?”

“Mr. Bampfield should prove most eager to steal and kill again.”

“So?”

“He’d be delighted to do so for you. To kill, to rob, to pillage, plunder, pilfer, ransack, and loot. So would they all. These evil spirits will do anything you ask of them. They simply need a good director to tell them where to go and what to do.”

“Wait a minute,” said Grimes. “You’re telling me these ghosts can actually rob banks, steal diamonds, forge checks, embezzle funds, make me rich beyond my wildest dreams and kill anyone who tries to stop us?”

“Yes. Not now. But soon.”

“Bah! You keep saying that. ‘Soon! Soon!’ How soon?”

“Tomorrow. When the moon is full. When the sacred ceremony is complete.”

“What ceremony?”

“The one you will perform with the two children!”

“Really? And, tell me, Hakeem: What’s in all this for you?”

Hakeem smiled. “Enough gold and treasure to restore Carthage to its full and rightful glory! It is all we brothers of Hannibal have ever dreamed of for over two thousand years! You, oh high priest of Ba’al, you shall make our dreams at long last come true!”