The Labyrinth of Blue Towers:
The Disappearance of Jack Arneson
(A Sewing Box Mystery)
Chapter 1: Friday, June 10, 2011, 7:21 pm
Chapter 2: Saturday, June 11, 2011, 8:38 am
Chapter 3: Thursday, June 28, 1984, 10:10 am
Chapter 12: Saturday, June 18, 2011, 8:00 am
Chapter 28: Sunday, June 19, 2011, 4:04 am
Missy reasoned that if someone’s phone rings in the middle of the night they will answer it if they are there. An emergency could happen at any time and a call at such an unusual hour would certainly motivate someone out of bed. Kathleen proved to be no different. She answered on the second ring, even though it was past 4:00 am.
Peter’s voice was smooth and charming. Clearly he’d seen Silence of the Lambs a few times, for his Hannibal Lector purr was spot on. Reading from a prepared script, he was clearly nervous, but did a good job of covering it up. “Good morning, Kathleen. I think I’ve stumbled on a little something that may be of interest to you. Come to the Monastery. Meet me at the secret door off the garden. And be sure to bring your checkbook.”
With that, Peter hung up.
Now the waiting game began. Would she take the bait? Missy bet she would.
The three of them returned to the basement. Peter removed the broken bulb in A.V. room behind the furnace and found a replacement. Missy was astonished by the rather sophisticated set-up the pervs behind the kiddie porn operation had engineered. Equally amazing? The fact that ninety percent of it still worked. Most of the bulbs in the theatrical lighting instruments in the room with the cot were still operational; enough to accomplish what Missy hoped to, anyway. In the A.V. room there was a large grey microphone sitting on a shelf next to the camera. It was the kind of microphone Missy remembered seeing in the Principal’s office in grade school. It fed into the control room, no doubt, so that the camera operator could offer suggestions to the participants. A television monitor sat next to the microphone. The picture quality was minimal, but certainly did the trick. There was also a rather archaic, complicated-looking mixing board. The microphones it controlled hung from the ceiling in the room with the cot and fed into the video cam.
The only used VHS tape to be found in the room was the one Missy had removed from the machine and given to Jeanette for safekeeping. But, based on the labeled shelves, there at one time had been quite the film library stored there. These shelves now sat empty.
Most disturbing of all, Jeanette found a small rack of costumes, mostly cheap, plastic Halloween costumes from a by-gone era - the kind that came with a flat, flimsy mask of the most generic kind. These mask’s empty eye holes stared blankly at Missy and she shuddered to think of the tortured children who had been tricked into wearing them. A few of the costumes were quite ornate, among these, a beautiful, light blue princess gown that had definitely seen better days. The tulle that lined its skirt had been torn, no doubt by a misplaced step here and there. It’s satin was bit tarnished, but the brocade that adorned its breast plate was still in place, making it seem royal, nonetheless. A small, glittering tiara and a pair of patent leather Mary Janes in a plastic bag hung from its hanger. On a hunch. Missy arranged these items on the cot in the soundproof room. She wasn’t totally confident that any of her plan would actually work. However, she needed to know exactly what had happened to Jack, so they had to risk it.
There was also another matter which Missy wanted settled. It was eating at her. Exactly how had Peter been able to open the door so easily? “The key was still in the door” he said. “I think you were probably right. Missy. I think Kathleen was intending on coming back to kill you.” The thought sent a chill through Missy. Their bodies would never have been found. They would have simply vanished from the face of the earth. Rookie mistake. In the future she promised herself that she would always let someone know where she was going... especially when meeting a crazy person like Kathleen in the middle of the night.
Peter’s words fortified Missy. Now she really wanted to get the goods on that woman. Still, there was also a part of her that felt sorry for Kathleen. But pity would have to take a backseat tonight.
Once they had run through the entire plan in order, Peter went to stand by the rear door; the one off the garden which Kathleen had led Missy and Jeanette through earlier that evening.
Missy and Jeanette then took their assigned places and waited. And waited. Surely Kathleen would want to find out what Peter was up to. What was taking her so long?
After what felt like an eternity, Missy heard voices and the sound of people shuffling through the maze toward the room with the cot. She pressed her body into the corner as far as she could The walls were cold, and while not wet, they definitely felt damp. Oddly, it felt good against the back of her neck, even though the wall's surface was rather coarse. She held her breath. Peter was speaking “I couldn’t believe my eyes It’s not like just anybody could find this room. And don’t worry, they’re still sitting pretty, in the dark. You know, they were at The Sleep Inn earlier, causing all sorts of trouble. I have to say, I admire your courage, Kathleen Getting rid of those two busy bodies? You’d be doing the community a real service.”
They were so close. so near, Missy could feel their energy. They were now standing right outside the door.
“Well, thank you, Peter. And I must say, I have to admire... your stupidity.” Kathleen’s tone changed dramatically. “Now be a good boy. Unlock that door so you can go play with your friends.”
Peter protested. “Oh, come on, Kathleen. Really? A gun? That’s a bit much, don’t you think. I mean, even for you.”
“I don’t react well when people try to blackmail me. So, don’t take it personally. Just do as I say.”
Peter turned around and began to open the door.
A gun? Why hadn’t they planned on that? They should have seen it coming. This was going to get dicey.
“Okay, door’s open,” Peter said rakishly. “Ladies first.”
Kathleen snorted dismissively. “I think not. Move it.”
Missy’s heart raced. She took a deep breath and pushed against the stack of crates to the left of the door with all her might. Kathleen screamed as they began to topple on top of her. At that same moment, Peter made a move for the gun. He missed grabbing the gun, but hit Kathleen’s hand with such force that she lost control of the weapon and it fell to the floor. Missy, scrambling over and around the capsized crates, grabbed Kathleen’s left arm. Peter, regaining his balance, grabbed her right arm and the two of them literally hurled the woman into the room, before slamming the door closed as quickly as possible.
Missy and Peter both sank to the floor Their breath completely taxed by their recent excerption, the adrenaline still coursing through their bodies. For the briefest of moments their eyes met and they smiled at one another. Missy thought in that moment that perhaps they would make a good team. But the realization that there was still so much to be done quickly dawned and the two raced through the stacks of crates in order to reach the A.V. room. As they slipped behind the furnace, Missy gave Jeanette the go ahead.
Throwing the switches in the order that had been discussed, the equipment began to fire up. Once the camera powered up, the monitor flickered to life. The trio watched as the theatrical lights flew on, full force. One of the bulbs popped with a hiss and died. It sounded like a small explosion, causing Kathleen to recoil and cover her head. The sound on the monitor captured her first scream. For a moment. Missy felt bad. She wondered if she was further victimizing a victim, but then she reminded herself that this woman had returned with a gun and had planned on killing them all. Remembering that, her resolve was restored.
Kathleen was furious. She screamed at them. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Get me out of here. I can’t be in here. I can’t. You need to let me out.” She sprang at the door and began pounding on it, but if anyone knew how futile that was, it should have been Kathleen. She sunk against the door, resting her forehead against it for a moment. Looking over her shoulder moments later, her eyes were wide with fear, like those of a trapped animal.
It was then that she noticed the blue princess dress laid out on the cot. Moving along the wall, her eyes remained glued to the costume. Tentatively, and with a shaking hand, she reached out for it. The second she touched it, something in her seemed to melt. Falling to her knees, she began to caress the fabric of the skirt and its brocaded bodice. She then rose, and with her back to the camera, picked up the dress and held it to her body.
The trio in the booth exchanged looks. No one seemed to know what to do next. Their focus returned to the monitor
Kathleen was now sitting on the cot, facing the camera, the dress still resting against the front of her body. She reached over and picked up the tiara, holding it up to the lights. “I am a .princess” she said, placing the rhinestone encrusted piece on her head “I am a princess” she whispered again. All the anger they had witnessed early, all the tension, fear, and anxiety had melted away. She seemed to be in another world, lost to all but the camera’s unforgiving lens.
Lifting her chin with a regal air, Kathleen looked directly into the camera and asked, “Is this what you want? Does this make you... happy?” A single tear cascaded down her left cheek. Missy’s heart began to break. What were they doing to this woman? Exactly what were they messing with?
“Daddy? Daddy, will you love me now?”
Lying down on the cot, the dress covering her like an ill-suited blanket, Kathleen rested her head on the pillow. She began to sing, “Tell me, tell me what you want. Tell me that your love is true.” The melody was sweet and sing-song, like that of a children’s nursery rhyme. “I am a princess dressed in blue. Waiting for you... to.. tell me what to do.” Her hand moved up to adjust the tiara, accidently grazing the corner of the book sitting under the pillow. Kathleen sat up with a jerk. It was as if the book was scorching hot. In a series of quick grabs, as if retracting something from a fire, she removed the book from beneath the pillow. Once the book was in full view, her hands flew to her face in much the same manner as a child’s would when unwrapping a Christmas present and discovering it was the exact thing she’d always wanted. Picking up the book, she hugged it to her chest, her eyes closed in elation. When they reopened, they were no longer the eyes of a child and a strange smile spread across her face. Her voice was now deep, resonant, and very adult.
“Does Daddy want to see my cupcakes?”
She put the book down and began to remove her black sweater
Jeanette reached out quickly and grabbed the microphone
“Eh, no .. no. Daddy doesn’t need to see your cupcakes honey.”
“No?” Kathleen was already down to her bra, her hands poised to undo the clasp in the back.
“No!” Jeanette shot a look to Missy. Moistening her lips nervously, she then continued, “What Daddy wants to know is... what happened to the little prince?”
Confused, Kathleen’s head slowly scanned the room. Was she looking for him, or trying to remember something? Then, suddenly, her body drew in upon itself, slumping like a pouting child “I don’t remember.”
“Yes, you do,” Jeanette coaxed. “The little blonde prince. The one you shared your book with.”
This apparently was not the thing to mention. Kathleen rose like a snarling lioness.
Throwing the dress, which was still on her lap, aside, she rose to her full height and screamed at the camera, “That book is mine! He shouldn’t have had it! It was mine.” Her body convulsed and shrank. Hunched over like an old woman, Kathleen began moving swiftly around the cot, circling it, looking at the floor, muttering over and over again, “I don’t want to share. I don’t like to share. I don’t have to share. I don’t want to share. I don’t like to share...”
Bewildered, Jeanette looked to Missy and Peter for help. She had no idea what she’d unlocked or triggered. Missy thought hard. There must be something that would pull Kathleen out of this little tirade. The book! Missy grabbed the microphone from her aunt and pressed down on the rectangular button at its base and spoke.
Taffy!”
For a moment, time seemed to stop. No one, including Kathleen, took a breath. The word had definitely hit home. Frozen in place, Kathleen’s head drew upwards, her face, that of someone who had just seen a ghost.
Missy wasn’t sure what to do next, so she simply repeated the word, “Taffy.”
Transforming, Kathleen’s posture changed dramatically. She stood tall, crossing her arms over her chest. In her big girl voice she stated, “You don’t have to call me that anymore. I no longer have a lisp. I can say my t-h’s now. And my name is Kathy, not ’Taffy’ - Kathy. I’m not a baby anymore.”
Missy swallowed hard before speaking, “No, no you’re not, Kathy. And that’s why you have to tell us what happened to the little boy... the little blonde boy.”
“Why?”
Missy continued, her confidence growing. “Because grown-up girls tell the truth. Now, tell us what happened.”
Kathleen sprang at the camera in a rage. “Why should I? It’s your fault. You and your stupid, dirty little movies.” She then did a one-eighty. Sighing deeply, she composed herself once more and continued. She now began reasoning with the lens. “How was I supposed to feel? Hmm? How do you think it made me feel? I come home for Christmas and find out that you’re still at it... still making smutty films, with children, no less. I knew exactly who that little boy was. Everyone did. It had been all over the television for months. You idiot! You were going to ruin everything. Well, I couldn’t have that. I knew exactly where you were keeping him, so I came down here and. . I don’t know. I think I meant to let him go. Take him to the police? I don’t know... but then...” and with this, the enraged lioness gradually reemerged, “then, there he was, sitting on the cot with my book. My Easter book! The story of Christ Jesus! The story of our risen lord!”
Kathleen began walking around the cot, again. She became lost in her recitation, “And on the third day, Jesus rose from the dead. He cast aside the rock, he rolled away the stone and lived again. The sun came out, the birds returned, and all was well in the world. Jesus forgave those whom had hurt him. For He was the risen lord, our redeemer and our salvation. And on the third day, Jesus rose...”
Missy had had enough. With a firm voice, she spoke into the microphone, “Kathleen,” she demanded, “what happened to the little boy?”
“I killed him!” she screamed.
The words came, as if ripped from her throat. Her admission seemed to reverberate in time. A moment passed, and then she continued, “I hid the mallet behind my back. He had no idea, didn’t see it coming at all. Just one hit - right on top of his head - and he went down.
Then I took him by the neck and I squeezed. I just kept squeezing and squeezing... until he stopped fighting me. His little body went limp, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew he wasn’t really dead. So I took this pillow,” sitting on the cot, Kathleen picked up the pillow, and began reenacting the scene, “and held it over his face. I just kept pressing. And pressing. It’s what my brother did to me to get me to shut up, late at night, when good little girls should be sleeping. This would shut him up, too... for good.” And then, in the coldest, ugliest voice Missy had ever heard, Kathleen said, “This would teach him to not touch things that did not belong to him.”
Her words hung heavy in the air. Then, a single, anguished sob escaped from Kathleen’s chest. She buried her head in the small pillow and cried out. “I don’t know why, I don’t know why, I don’t, I don’t know why...”
Missy stepped back from the microphone. She felt drained, numb.
Well, now they knew.
With her face a mask of exhaustion, she turned to Peter and Jeanette and said, “I’ve seen enough. Let’s call the Sheriff.”
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Next Week: Chapter 29
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1 comment:
Kathleen, huh?
Damn twisted.
Also, the Sheriff? I'd call the fucking FBI.
XOXO
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