Haunted Read online

  "Thanks for telling me, Georgie."

  "You're welcome, David. Goodbye."

  He set the receiver back in the cradle, pleased and confused about Melanie's behavior, wanting to believe it was because of him, but wondering if she had an ulterior motive. She usually did. And the thought of Meat Blaisdell--the nickname said it all--absolutely infuriated him.

  He had no right to worry about whom she slept with--after all, they'd broken up more than six months ago. But Meat Blaisdell... "God damn it, Melanie. You have better taste than that."

  You crawled right into bed with Theo Pelinore, Masters, it goes both ways. And you don't have time to waste worrying about it. You have work to do. With that, he glanced at the two dolls in their plastic bags on the other side of the desk, and his worries about Melanie retreated to the back of his mind.

  The headless one--the one that had "bled"--lay in a powdery rust-colored dust. The red fluid had dried and powdered within one hour of the incident. He should, he reminded himself, take a sample of the powder to a lab for testing: he thought that the doll had been filled with something that resembled blood and be was very curious to know the chemical content of the stuff. If the voodoo-versed Christabel bad used some sort of alleged "magic," he might discover a chemical compound as amazing as the one that true voodoo practitioners used to create the zombie effect.

  Another thing that intrigued him was the fact that the doll was the effigy of the decapitated Captain Wilder, right down to the lack of a head. Before giving the real naval officer's uniform to Amber to take for cleaning, he had examined it again, but found no sign of blood, so either the captain hadn't been murdered in this particular clothing or it belonged to someone else.

  Then there was the mysterious evil-faced doll in black seafarer's clothing. David assumed it represented one of the customers, one who owned a razor-tipped cat-o'-nine-tails. Any woman willing to bed down with this guy for any price must have had a death wish. It was endowed with an obscenely huge erection that sprouted from a crotch coated with bushy hair that extended in a thin line to the navel where it blossomed across the thing's torso. Its back, shoulders, and buttocks were nearly as hairy as its chest.

  He turned his attention back to the open crate, thinking that perhaps he would find an answer within.

  Thus far, he had only discovered impersonal, though fascinating items, which would serve as useful color in Mephisto Palace. On top, he'd found items from 1912, including a copy of Colliers Weekly, piano sheet music for the brand new hit, "Alexander's Ragtime Band," and, best of all, a copy of the Red Cay Guardian, dated April 17, detailing the sinking of the Titanic two days previously.

  The next layer contained items dating back to 1913 and 1914. There was a copy of the Guardian containing the debut of the new comic, "Bringing Up Father." David read it, remembering the same comic from his childhood, but by then it was known as "Maggie and Jiggs." Next came a small pouch of Indian-head nickels, and another copy of the Guardian, this one reporting the opening of the brand new Ford Motors plant. There were advertisements, carefully cut from the paper, for The Perils of Pauline, starring Pearl White, and Cecil B. DeMille's epic western (or so said the ad), The Squaw Man.

  Now he gently lifted out the next clipping, a story about the movie, Birth of a Nation. The article bore the title, "Movie Causes Race Riots in Atlanta: Is D.W Griffith Member of KKK?" Lizzie, he decided, must have been fascinated by politics and music. These things, sterile as they were, helped the woman come alive in his mind. She had been a feminist of sorts.

  He smiled, as he found a carefully folded poster for The Tramp, Charlie Chaplin's first major film. Beneath that, lay a copy of the Guardian dated May 8, 1915, its headlines detailing the sinking of the Lusitania the previous day. It was an extra edition.

  If the items were roughly in chronological order, there would be little left, he realized, at least if Lizzie had stored these trunks away herself. Curious as to what he'd find next, he set the May 8 newspaper aside for later perusal and lifted out a handful of paperbacks, including a 1912 edition of Zane Grey's Riders of the Purple Sage and a 1914 Tarzan of the Apes by the relatively unknown Edgar Rice Burroughs. There were many more pulp books and magazines, several inches' worth, and David began to think they filled the rest of the crate, when he came to another newspaper, dated September 2, 1915.

  I've struck gold! A little thrill ran through him as he stared at the date. Lizzie hadn't packed the trunk--she couldn't have. The massacre had occurred on the night of August 31, 1915. He wondered who had packed them and if the same person bad constructed the crates to fit so invisibly among the wall studs?

  The words "EXTRA EDITION," were emblazoned across the top of the sheet. The headline, in huge type, took up nearly all the rest of the front page: "Bawdy House Becomes Body House In Bizarre Midnight Massacre." Below that, in slightly smaller typeface, were the words, "25 Bodies Found, Many Missing, Including The Notorious Madam And Her Daughter."

  "Oh, boy!" David settled back in his chair and put his feet up, then began to read:

  Sometime during the night of Friday, August 31, a terrible massacre took place in the quiet seacoast village of Red Cay, on the central coast of California.

  At 11:00 A.M. on September 1, Miss Charlotte Manderley of Red Cay entered Baudey House, the residence of Misses Elizabeth and Christabel Baudey, where she was horrified to find the gruesomely murdered bodies of twelve women and fifteen men.

  Miss Manderley, a resident of the house, had gone to visit her sister in San Luis Obispo on Friday night. "If I hadn't spent the night with Rebecca, I would have died too," Miss Manderley told this reporter.

  Upon entering the mansion, which has long been known as a house of ill repute, Miss Manderley saw a sight that will visit her nightmares for the rest of her life. A red velvet meridienne lounge held the body of Miss Lucy Latour, a resident of the house and Miss Manderley's close friend. The body had been eviscerated, and the gut had been draped around the lounge and body in a garland-like manner reminiscent of the murders committed by Jack the Ripper of Whitechapel, England, two decades ago.

  Upon seeing this dreadful sight, as well as dimly noticing other bodies and huge splashes of blood, Miss Manderley fought her desire to faint and ran outside, where she soon recovered herself enough to drive into town, and notify Police Chief Robert Lee of the murders.

  Chief Lee promptly summoned all five of his officers as well as Doctor Louis Shayrock, and they set off for Baudey House. Officer Thomas Lockhart was stationed outdoors to keep curious parties, as well as the press, away from the murder scene. He was instructed by Chief Lee to answer no questions.

  Another officer, Mr. Jonah Willard, who has only been on the Red Cay force for six months, was seen to exit the house and subsequently became violently ill. "Horrible, beyond belief," said the officer, who exchanged posts with Officer Cox. "It's the devil's work, no mistake." The officer refused to elaborate further.

  After two hours, Chief Lee appeared and made the following statement: "A mass murder, taking twenty-seven lives, possibly more, occurred sometime last night. At this point we have no suspects in custody. The Red Cay Police Department will conduct a thorough investigation which will not end until the perpetrator of these heinous crimes is captured and justice is done."

  When asked if Elizabeth Baudey and her daughter were among the victims, Chief Lee replied that they did not appear to be on the premises. He answered no further questions, but announced that a list of victims would soon be released.

  Baudey House has been officially known as The Baudey Home for Young Women since Miss Elizabeth Baudey inherited the property, though local residents have always continued to call it Baudey House. Due to gossip about the alleged "home," some locals in Barnacle Bob's Tavern, as well as many transient salesmen and sailors, have taken to referring to the morally questionable establishment as "Bawdy House."

  Now, the house has acquired a new and yet more terrible epithet: Body House.

  David perus
ed the article again, then glanced through the paper for any other pertinent information, but found only a brief article detailing Byron Baudey's building of the lighthouse and mansion, and several editorials blasting the town government for looking the other way in the face of prostitution.

  The next paper, a regular edition, was dated September 5, 1915, and contained several articles and editorials. David read through them quickly, then slowed, when he came across new information:

  Red Cay Chief of Police Robert Lee has issued an official list of murder victims found September 1 in Baudey House. Details of the murders were withheld, although locations of the bodies were revealed.

  All the female victims listed were residents of Baudey House. Found on the first floor were the bodies of the following persons:

  Parlor: Harrison Cox, 48, Mayor of Red Cay; Chelsea Latour, 23

  Bathroom: Roberto Misella, 40, locksmith; Laurel Drake, 22.

  Drawing Room: Unknown Male Transient, 30-35; Kitty Clausen, 31.

  Billiards Room: Douglas Cleghorne, 45, Merchant Marine; Genieve Wooten, 24; Ginger Buckminister, 19.

  Kitchen: Max Nicolatti, 35, Grocer, Red Cay; Jane Vander Putten, 29.

  Dining Room: Thayer Cox, 26, Officer, Red Cay Police;Tucker Cox, 26, Lawyer, Red Cay; Daisy Johnson, 19.

  Found on the second floor:

  Front Bedroom, East Wing: Jared Anderson, 33, Fisherman, Pismo Beach; Heather Berlin, 21.

  Third Bedroom, East Wing: Samuel Willard, 54, Selectman, Red Cay; Claudia O'Toole, 26.

  Fourth Bedroom, East Wing: Reverend James Worthy, 41, of Red Cay; Timothy Waters, 19, Merchant Marine; Sarah Seville, 18.

  Ballroom: Aaron Swenson, 17, of Red Cay; Lawson Cox, 67, State Senator, Red Cay; Unknown Male Transient, 40-45; Emily Pelinski, 31.

  Terrace: Noah Fester, 47, Captain, Sailing Queen, out of Portland, Oregon.

  Found on the third floor in the front dormer bedroom was Mariette Cantori, 17.

  No suspects are yet in custody, but Chief Lee expects developments soon. The chief again refused to comment on the method or methods used by the murderer.

  Three drawings accompanied the article, depicting the layout of each floor and the locations of the bodies. David studied them, not surprised to see that the body of the young woman murdered on the third floor had been found in the room overlooking the terrace. David made a note to try to find out more about Mariette Cantori who, at seventeen, had been the youngest victim.

  The second floor schematic showed that no bodies were found in the west wing, where he and Amber slept, and that pleased him and further convinced him that these larger rooms had been the private quarters of Lizzie and Christabel. He was surprised to see, however, that the diagram of the first floor revealed that the drawing room, in which two bodies had been found, was the office in which he now sat. At least it doesn't feel haunted, he thought, glancing around According to the drawing, the man and the woman would have been lying right about where he was sitting now.

  He perused the names, amused at the number of highly placed citizens, Coxes in particular, that had met their fate in the bawdy house. The town fathers must have worked very hard to bury the well-connected names.

  A third paper, dated September 9, 1915, contained an interesting article concerning people who had been missing since the night of the massacre. The article first stated that the police chief considered the disappearances of Elizabeth and Christabel Baudey highly significant, but offered no explanation--undoubtedly the tight-lipped Lee hadn't given one. It then listed the other missing persons: Flossie Sullivan, Colette Seville, and Lucy McGuire, all residents of the house, were unaccounted for, as well as Thomas Wright and Adam Fletcher, both of the Sailing Queen, Peter Castle, a Morro Bay fisherman, Luke Peters, a local carpenter, and Luis Sandoval, who owned the Double Bar Ranch near Red Cay.

  Near the end of the piece, David saw the first mention of the cellar:

  ...One avenue Chief Lee is investigating is the possibility that a secret chamber exists below the house, one that is accessible only by an unknown passage. An anonymous source told Chief Lee that it was Miss Baudey's practice to blindfold any men who wished the services available in the chamber before she escorted them to this nefarious den.

  Chief Lee is attempting to locate the chamber as the uncharacteristically warm weather has produced unmistakable odors associated with unburied corpses. Word has been sent to the great escape artist, Harry Houdini, who is currently touring Europe, that the Red Cay Police Department would appreciate any advice he can dispense.

  David had known that Houdini had been contacted, but nothing ever came of it. Chief Lee never found his murderer or murderers, either.

  Following that article was a colorful feature playing up the lurid aspects of the history of Byron's Finger, and David lingered over a section of it:

  Baudey House is located a mile from town on a small peninsula known as Byron's Finger. Except for the Widow's Peak Lighthouse, it is the sole structure upon this land, which the Chumash Indians have always considered cursed.

  ...Perhaps the Chumash were correct... Many sailors have lost their lives on the treacherous rocks of the headland, even after Byron Baudey built the lighthouse.

  ...The tip of the peninsula acquired the name "Widow's Peak" in the eighteenth century. Widows of seamen gathered on the anniversaries of their husbands' deaths to throw flowers into the unforgiving waters below in memoriam. More than one heartbroken woman threw herself onto the sharp rocks below.

  Even in modern times, the land seems cursed, just as the Chumash have said. The mansion and the lighthouse have continually been plagued by unexplained deaths and tragedies. Byron Baudey, his wife, daughter, and grandchild, all died in dire ways, as have those who came after them.

  In the last two years there have been several unsolved murders and disappearances. All involved unidentified transient merchant marines and sailors, with the sole exception of Captain Ezra Wilder, whose hideously decapitated body was found within the lighthouse early in 1914.

  Wilder, whose spice trade is now operated by his son Ajax was coincidentally the man who rescued Elizabeth Baudey and her daughter from her imprisonment on a Caribbean Island by a voodoo priest. It is believed that Wilder and the elder Miss Baudey were intending to marry at the time of his death.

  Now, that’s something new. Eagerly, David read on:

  Some of our citizens suspect that the beautiful young Christabel, who was only sixteen at the time of her disappearance, is responsible for the captain's death, as well as the deaths of the others. It is said that her voodoo priest father taught her everything he knew and that she was an extremely powerful priestess.

  A local citizen who wishes to retain anonymity told this reporter that Christabel Baudey used magic to obtain any man she desired and that she used other perverse magic upon them once she had them in her thrall. He also said that after Elizabeth Baudey's unfortunate accident in November of 1914, in which she broke both her legs, Christabel altered the secret chamber from merely a "fanciful den of pleasure" into a "torture chamber where no man was safe."

  Laying the paper aside, David put his hands behind his head and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. It was definitely time to contact Craig Swenson, the current chief of police, and see if he could learn anything more about the murders. He hoped that Swenson could be talked into letting him take a look at any photographs that might be on file, as well as Chief Lee's original reports.

  His thoughts drifted back to Melanie and, for a long time, he stared at the phone. Twice, he nearly picked it up. Nearly.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Body House: 3:31 P.M.

  "See you later!" Amber called as Kelly Cox waved from her yellow VW Bug and pulled away. It had been a great afternoon, with the two of them trying on every dress that remotely fit before they were through. Amber was pleased that her friend had taken the hint about not showing off their costumes for her dad, mostly because she didn't really want him to know which one s
he had chosen. She wasn't sure he'd let her wear the black dress to the dance: it was rather revealing and very sexy, and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

  She walked down the steps and took a deep breath of ocean air. The weather was perfect; the sky was blue with a sprinkling of puffy clouds, and the lawn Eric Swenson had planted a few weeks ago had come up greener than green amid the flower beds full of pink and white impatiens and yellow marigolds.

  Deciding to stroll out to the lighthouse and back, she began walking toward Widow's Peak. She had plenty of time: her father would probably stay holed up in his office for a couple more hours, then after that they were going out to eat Minnie had left some kind of god-awful casserole in the refrigerator yesterday, to "tide them over" while she took the day off. Amber had taken one look at it, decided something with sliced cocktail weenies, bell peppers, and macaroni swimming in pink-colored sauce wasn't something she'd be eating any time soon, and scraped it into the trash, with her father's crinkle-nosed blessing.

  She sighed. Minnie would be back tomorrow and that made her wish she could bring herself to call Melanie, but she just couldn't: the more she thought about it, the more she felt that telling Mel about the underwear rumor would be a whiny, babyish thing to do. She had to get rid of the old busybody herself. But how? Maybe Kelly could help her cook up a plan.

  As she neared the lighthouse, she saw that its old wooden door was ajar. Shaking her head, she approached the tower, intending to close the entry again. She wondered how it came to be open because her dad had asked Eric to put a new hasp and padlock on the door to make sure no one entered the dangerous structure.