House of Skin (24 page)

Lisa went pale. “Yes, our paths have crossed. She was a patient at Coalinga and later an inmate at Chowchilla. Not my patient, but I remember her very well. A psychosexual killer. Very dangerous.”

“A strangler.”

“Yes, she liked to use a wire. Though she killed her family—her mother and brother—she was also suspected of murdering at least five other people. It was believed that her psychopathy was a result of a combination of biological and psychological factors. She was horribly abused as a child, both sexually and physically. She was typical of primary psychopaths in that she was egocentric, of high intelligence, anti-social, disenfranchised, and a pathological liar that would twist reality in order to substantiate her delusions. She was completely lacking in remorse for her crimes and had nothing that we might call a conscience. Essentially, an inhuman monster wearing the skin of an attractive young woman.”

“I did some checking,” Fenn said. “She escaped from the prison a year or so ago. Never figured out how. Never was seen again. Shortly afterwards, there was a string of unsolved homicides across San Francisco and Marin Counties. Some figured it was her. But, as I said, she was never caught.”

“And what does this have to do with anything?”

Cherry. Oh good God.

“Maybe nothing. Soames mentioned her name.”

“He’s probably not even aware of what he’s saying.”

“You’re probably right. But why would he mention that particular name?”

“Who can say? It really depends on the level of his psychosis. Maybe he was looking for her as part of his job before his collapse … .though, the fact that he’s still alive means he probably didn’t find her.”

Fenn shook his head. “I don’t think I’d want to meet our Cherry Hill in a dark alley.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Lisa said, a darkness passing over her eyes. “Cherry, as I said, was a very pretty girl and she knew how to use her looks. She easily manipulated men. She could be very sultry and flirtatious when it suited her needs or shy and innocent. The problem is that we tend to trust attractive people, thinking that because they are perfect on the outside they must be perfect on the inside. Cherry was good at role-playing and she could almost instinctively sense what was expected of her by others and act the part to perfection. If you did come across her, you would never suspect the monster that hides inside her. She had a need to possess her lovers one-hundred percent: she mated and then killed. A black widow.”

“There’s something else, though. What is it? I can hear it under your words.”

Lisa swallowed. “Yes, there’s something else. At Coalinga she developed a fixation for Eddy Zero. She believed she was in love with him.”

“Was she?”

“No, it’s impossible for her to love as such. Inside, she’s very cold. She was infatuated, yes, but in the end it was only about possessing him.”

“Quite a lady.”

“You have no idea.”

* * *

Later, when Lisa was alone, the whole idea of going into the House of Mirrors wearing a transmitter seemed wild and dangerous.

If not bloody stupid.

She couldn’t believe that she’d volunteered for such a thing. Bravery had never been one of her strong suits. And this little adventure would take more than merely that, it would take nerves drop-forged from iron.

Did I really suggest this whole thing? she asked herself.

Yes, I believe you did.

But it was far too late to back out now. Oh, Fenn would’ve been very happy to call the whole thing off. He couldn’t bear the idea and had argued through the night against it. In his eyes, she was a fragile doll of porcelain and lace. In the end, though, the policeman in him had succumbed to the logic of it. If Eddy was in the house or hiding nearby and he saw Lisa in the vicinity, his ego would necessitate that he pay her a visit.

And what kind of visit would that be?

One with gleaming knives and glaring hatred? One in which the patient got the chance to settle the score with some pretentious headshrinker who’d declared him unbalanced? Would it work out that way? It was hard to say and the criminally insane mind was a dark and bottomless pool to fathom. It was terribly difficult to second guess someone like Eddy. Expect only the unexpected, Lisa’s abnormal psychology professor had once said. Never a truer statement had been made. But she didn’t think Eddy would kill her. Even if his mind and its demented workings were an alien quarter to her, which they surely were not, she could still draw certain conclusions based upon the pattern of his crimes. All of his victims, save the woman in the house who was as yet unidentified, had been prostitutes. It was logical to assume he wouldn’t change his MO this late in the game.

But that doesn’t mean hookers are his prey of choice, a secret dread voice reminded her. He may have found them convenient as Jack the Ripper did once upon a time and countless other killers have since. Prostitutes are easy victims. They’ll gladly follow a strange man into a dark and lonely place for the right price.

Fenn had already worked out the details with his superiors. They liked the idea. It was a terrible gamble and chances were nothing would come of it, but it was better than waiting for Eddy to strike. Anything was. There would be no cops in the house, just herself. But she would be wired and Fenn and his boys would be in their van a short distance away listening to everything. Other cops would be watching from across the street and still others would be at the corner, disguised as street people. It was an awful lot of manpower to sink on such a thin hope, but Eddy had to be stopped.

All Lisa had to do was engage him in a conversation and the moment he spoke, the house would be flooded with cops. And she would be carrying a small, snub-nosed .38 in case anything went wrong. She’d carry it in her coat pocket with her finger on the trigger and if anything went wrong, a simple tug would right things again.

It all seemed quite flawless in every respect. The only thing she worried about was Eddy springing at her out of the darkness. If that was the case, she’d be dead before the police even arrived. But they’d have their man. She didn’t think that would happen, though. Eddy would want her to know who was going to take her life, he’d want to tease her with it. His inflated ego would accept nothing less.

It was all set to go down tomorrow night. In the meantime, as the police organized themselves, Lisa would start visiting the house. If Eddy was nearby, hopefully he’d see her and come calling. If not right away, then tomorrow night when she would be trapped in the house for the duration.

For these first visits, Fenn would be in the back seat of her car, communicating with the officers who were monitoring her. Gaines had suggested that she might want to take a piece of chalk along and leave a little message for Eddy. Scrawl something on a wall so he’d know it was her without leaving her name. Maybe drop the idea that she’d be waiting for him the next evening. It was worth a shot.

All the bases were covered now and with any luck she’d soon be meeting the man she’d come to meet. And the idea of that filled her with a black and nameless horror like nothing she’d ever before known.

Lisa stood silently at the precinct as two technicians—one male and one female—wired her. Her shirt was off and Fenn looked uneasy as they taped the transmitter to her belly and breasts, then she dressed and went out to her car. She drove about in traffic while the police van with the listening equipment trailed a block or two behind and made adjustments at their end. They told her to speak off and on in a normal tone of voice. It was strange talking to no one, so she recited a thesis she’d presented years ago on Erhard and the notion of Self. It was terribly boring and tedious and she never realized to what extent until she had to read it aloud from memory.

Afterwards, they returned to the precinct and the games ended.

It was time to do it for real.

The police van disguised with a Pacific Bell logo on its side parked well up the street and Lisa stopped at the house itself. Fenn was lying in the backseat with a walkie-talkie. He winked at her as she got out and went up the steps cut into the hill. The House of Mirrors brooded above her and for reasons unknown, the sight of it made her heart race and her palms sweat.

She was dressed in a London Fog knee-length raincoat. It was a big, roomy thing that hung on her and disguised the bulge of the gun in her pocket. The door was open and she went into the secret world of gloom. Despite the coolness of a November afternoon, the air was hot and pungent inside. It had an unpleasant, damp smell like the inside of a reptile house. Bits of peeling paint dropped from the walls. There were curled Autumn leaves scattered over the floor. They hadn’t been here on her last visit, which led her to believe that the front door had been left open recently.

She waited and listened for footsteps that would give away Eddy’s approach and heard nothing. The house was quiet and tomblike. Fenn had told her to stay on the ground floor and let Eddy come to her if he was there. It would be safer that way.

She swallowed and drew a deep breath. “Eddy?” she called out. “Are you here? It’s Dr. Lochmere.”

Her voice echoed up the stairwell and died like a memory.

She waited and there was no response. She hadn’t expected one.

“I’m going up,” she whispered.

Fenn was probably writhing, but no matter. She was on her own and she would follow her own instincts. She went up the stairs and moved slowly up the dusty, dank corridor. It was cooler up here for some crazy reason and a sort of frigid clamminess rained in the air. She didn’t bother checking the rooms, instead she went directly to the attic door and started up.

The house was a study in contradictions. The bottom floor was hot and wet, the upstairs cool, and the attic like a freezer. It made no sense. In this damnable place, heat seemed to fall rather than rise. Everything here raged against physical laws. She zipped up her raincoat and hugged herself for warmth. Her breath frosted as it left her lips. A slight, frozen breeze skirted the floors. She tried to empty her mind of imagination, yet the place still seemed to swim with a glaring aura of hate.

The skeletal remains of the animal still rested on the floor. The dust was beginning to insinuate itself once again where it had been stripped clean by that unknown sucking wind.

She stared at the grime-covered mirror. Why had Zero been so obsessed with mirrors? There had to have been some psychological modus operandi to it, but no one had ever discovered what it was.

Her breath was coming quick and she felt an uncanny sense of impending disaster. But it was just her mind playing tricks and she had to keep it in check. But it wasn’t easy; the attic was an envelope of suffering. Negativity and inhumanity oozed from every board and crevice.

She turned to leave and a cold, arctic wind enveloped her. She turned and there seemed to be no cause for it. Her nerves danced on edge, her hands trembled, and it felt like something thick and greasy was lodged in her throat. The building anxiety in the air made her want to collapse in a ball and cry.

“Just a room,” she said aloud as if to verify the fact.

She took a stick of yellow chalk from her pocket and wrote the following on the wall:

Tomorrow midnight
Wait for me, Eddy
Dr. L.

She turned and left, moving quickly down the stairs into the corridor and not stopping until the front door was in sight. Only then did she feel somewhat at ease.

“Nobody home,” she whispered to relieve Fenn and the others and herself, she supposed.

She grasped the doorknob and was struck by a sudden claustrophobic sensation that it wouldn’t open at all, but it did. She felt almost as if she were being watched. The air smelled different, just a suggestion of an odor that hadn’t been there before. She left the front door open and followed the scent. Tobacco smoke. In what had once been a sitting room, a cigarette smoldered on the floor.

Fenn?

“Is someone here?” she said in a dead, dry tone.

The wind rattled the eaves outside and the house seemed to shudder. She was rooted to the spot, paranoia raging in her brain. She wanted to put her hand in her pocket and touch the gun, but her fingers were unwilling to move.

A board creaked overhead.

The front door swung shut with a deafening slam.

She ran down the hall and threw it open, her heart slamming in her chest, her breath locked in her lungs.

“Just the wind,” she said and looked down at the floor. The warped frame of the door had scraped a trail there. It was unlikely the wind could have sucked it close.

She shut it and left.

* * *

“It’s crazy the way an empty house can prey on your imagination,” she told Fenn later. She didn’t mention the cigarette for fear he wouldn’t let her come back and she knew she had to now.

“Don’t I know it.”

“I almost felt like I was being watched.”

He looked concerned. “Maybe you were.”

“No, I don’t think so. It was just nervous tension, that’s all. I heard a board creak and then the door slammed and I ran. I hadn’t been so scared since I was a kid.”

“Fear’s okay,” he told her. “It’s a good thing. It can save your ass in some situations.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Trust me, I am.”

She winked at him and wondered who’d left the cigarette. It could’ve been Eddy, but something told her it was someone else entirely.

And that’s what really scared her.

Dear Eddy,

Once we were back on the road, I felt a lot safer. Remember how it started to rain when we hit the highway again? Practically a downpour.

I love storms.

I love driving in them, sleeping in them, fucking in them.

We figured it would be awhile before anyone looked in the trunk of my car and found that guy. Not that it mattered. That car wasn’t registered in my name, anyway. It was just a rental. Too bad about that guy. He was so happy to help a woman in distress. Oh, well. Things happen, I guess.

The idea of the two of us cruising around together was like a dream come true for me. You have no idea how often I thought about that. The destination was never set in my mind. In my dreams, I only saw us driving away together, towards the future. Our future. As long as were together, it never mattered to me where we ended up.