The Haunting of Anna McAlister (28 page)

Anna looked around the room. “It was here.” She looked under the bed and behind the furniture. “It was.”

“Then where is it?” Tom said. “You know a head just doesn’t get up and walk away,” he tried to joke.

Tom put the blanket back on the bed and lay down. “Just a dream,
mon cherie
. Forget about it.”

“Would you stop speaking French.”

“I didn’t speak French.” Tom rolled over. “I don’t speak French.”
 

Tom turned off the light. Anna turned it back on.
 

Tom groaned, covered his eyes with the blanket and quickly fell back asleep.
 

Anna searched every corner and cranny of the room. Then, she searched them again. Finally, she sat down on the floor against the bed.
It could have been a dream, couldn’t it have
? she asked herself. It had to be a dream. Just like seeing Jeffrey was only a dream.”

Anna smiled at the absurdity of her situation. “I’m looking for a head,” she said out loud. “Me, little Anna McAlister, girl scout, soccer team, honor roll . . . looking for a head.”
 

Anna rose to her feet and walked to the bathroom She stared into the mirror. “Hall monitor, safety patrol girl and head hunter.”
 

Without looking down, Anna turned on the faucet. She cupped her hands beneath it and filled them with cold water. Anna splashed the water onto her face. “Ouch,” she felt something cut her right cheek. Opening her eyes, Anna looked at the fingers on her right hand, “No!” she whispered. “Please no.”
 

Anna tried to back away from her own hands, letting whatever remaining water drip to the floor. She hadn’t noticed it before, but she certainly saw it now. The nails on her right index and middle fingers were broken and they had snagged strands of long gray hair.
 

Anna grabbed a towel and wildly wiped the hairs from her nails before looking up at the mirror and screaming for Tom. Next to her reflection she saw that of Madam Lapautre’s head. It’s bloody mouth was smiling, moving as if it were trying talk. But, without breath, or vocal courts, all it could do was mouth the words, grin and bleed.
 

“Tom!” Anna’s eyes didn’t leave the mirror until Tom threw open the door and came running in.
 

“What’s wrong?”

Anna turned to Tom. She pointed to the mirror. “Look.”

Tom joined Anna in front of the mirror. When they both looked, only their own reflections looked back.
 

“What am I suppose to be looking at?”

Anna touched the mirror, and whispered; “Again, nothing. But look at these.”
 

Anna showed Tom her broken nails and the strands of hair. “Explain these.”

“I can’t explain any of this, Anna.” Tom’s voice was weak and shaken. “Let’s just go back to bed, okay?”

“Yeah,” Anna nodded. “Yeah.”

Anna and Tom turned to walk back into the bedroom. When they did, they both saw the head floating in the doorway, blocking their path.
 

Anna backed away, she stumbled and fell. Tom stood perfectly still for a moment, before stepping forward.
 

“No, Tom,” Anna called out. “Get away from it!” She screamed and scrambled back against the wall.
 

While Tom’s back was to Anna, she could see his profile reflected in the mirror. He looked as though he was in some kind of a trance, and that he was the one now smiling. Tom walked toward the doorway.
 

“No!”

Tom reached up and took the head into his hands. Anna could see Madam Lapautre’s face contort as if in pain. She saw its mouth issue its silent scream.
 

“Tom, no!”

There was a cracking sound and a crash from the room beyond Tom. Anna could see the door to the hallway splinter and fly back off its hinges. Police Inspector Cerone and Detective Malmann led the way into the room. They both wore flack jackets and had their guns drawn.
 

For just a second, they stopped and stared at Tom. Both thought they saw him holding a head, but then his arms were simply in the air and his hands held nothing. A team of fully armed officers flooded into the room. All of their weapons were pointed at Tom.
 

Inspector Cerone and Detective Malmann looked at each other for a moment before charging. They threw Tom to the floor and pulled his arms behind his back. It took them very little time to cuff his hands together and yank him up to his feet.
 

Inspector Cerone stood directly in front of him, inches from his face. “You are under arrest for the murder of Madam Isabelle Lapautre.”
 

Tom didn’t say a word as the officers half led and half dragged him from the room. Inspector Cerone followed them out.
 

“Are you alright?” Detective Malmann approached Anna, who was still on the bathroom floor. She had watched Tom being arrested, but she couldn’t stop seeing him holding, almost caressing Madam Lapautre’s head in his hands.
 

“Ms. McAlister, I said are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

Detective Malmann extended his hand. Anna took it and he helped her to her feet.
 

“What are you doing?” Anna finally was able to ask. “Where did they take Tom?”

“I’m afraid your friend is in a lot of trouble, Ms. McAlister. They’re charging him with murder.”

“Tom? He didn’t kill anyone,” Anna thought about what to say next. “He was with me when Madam Lapautre was killed.”

“Was he?”

Anna remembered Tom running from the room and disappearing for the night. “Yes,” she lied.

“Then that’ll have to be your testimony, I guess,” Detective Malmann shrugged. “But I sure as hell wouldn’t go out of my way to protect him if I were you.”

“You’re not me.”

“That’s for sure. If I were, I’d get about as far away from that guy as I could . . . as fast as I could get there.”

“Why?” Anna asked. “Why did they arrest him now, and why the guns?”

Detective Malmann looked back into the room to make sure they were alone. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, First of all they picked up Mr. Howard’s finger prints all over that woman’s apartment.”

“Of course they did. Like we both told you, we were there yesterday and met with her. I’m sure you found my finger prints too.”

“No, just his.”

“That can’t be.”

“It is. Look, we’re cops. We deal in facts, clues, bad guys. You can talk all you want about ghosts and goblins, but all I know is that we got a victim and now we got a suspect.”

“Okay,” Anna said. “Then why didn’t you just arrest him when we were at the police station?”

“Because we didn’t have enough to hold him.”

“And now you do? The fact that you found his fingerprints in a place where we told you we were? That gives you enough?”

“There is one more thing.”

“What?”

“We got a call from the hotel a little while ago.” Detective Malmann paused.
 

“And . . .”

“They found the victim’s head in a hallway.”

“Where?”
 

Detective Malmann crooked his head. “You don’t seem at all surprised.”

“I’m not. Where did they find it?”

“Outside of that room you and Mr. Howard kept talking about.”

“531.”

“Yeah.”

Anna remained unfazed. “That still doesn’t prove Tom did anything.”

“Look at this way, okay?” Inspector Malmann said. “Mr. Howard’s prints were at the crime scene, the head at the hotel where he’s staying and he’s got some connection with the murders back home. Put it all together, Ms. McAlister, and you got yourself a suspect worth arresting.”

“He didn’t kill them. Look, we were in Paris when Jeffrey was . . . when Jeffrey died.”

“Nice alibi, huh?” Detective Malmann smirked.
 

“Oh, please,” Anna snapped.
 

“Sorry,” Detective Malmann held up his hands. “If he didn’t do it, then that’ll come out. If he did do it, then at least he’s somewhere where he can’t do it to someone else.”

“But you’re already convinced that he did it. You’re not going to change your mind.”

“Clues, Ms. McAlister. Facts and clues . . . victims and suspects. That’s how it works. If the clues point to someone else, then we’ll say sorry and Mr. Howard will be a free man.”

“But you don’t think that will happen.”

“Honestly? No I do not.”

Anna took a deep breath. “So what now?”

“First off, I’m going to have to escort you to another room. The crime lab people should be here any minute to go over this place. Unless of course that’s a problem?”

“Can I say no?”

“No.”

“No problem.”

“I’m sure we’ll want to talk to you again in the morning, Ms McAlister. Why don’t you come to the station at around 10? For now, you have to vacate this room before the crime lab crew gets here. They shouldn’t take more than a couple hours, then you can come back.”

“Fine,” Anna stared directly into his eyes. “Can I at least change and get some clothes for tomorrow before we go?”
 

Anna was still wearing the old football jersey she had claimed as a nightgown so many years ago.
 

“I’d really rather you didn’t.”

“My jeans and a pair of panties?” Anna’s eyes and nostrils flared.

“Okay, just those,” Detective Malmann watched as she collected the two items.
 

“The room’s all yours,” Anna said sweetly. She twirled her panties from her fingers as she pushed quickly past the detective and out the door.
 

Detective Malmann took one last look around before following her. In the hallway they walked side by side. “One more thing, Ms. McAlister. When we came into the room and Mr. Howard was standing in the bathroom door?”

“Yes?”

Detective Malmann stopped walking. He took Anna by the elbow to make sure she did the same. “When he was holding his arms up, did you see . . .”

“See what?”

Detective Malmann thought for a moment before he smiled. “Ah, never mind.” The detective and Anna again started walking. “I think this case is driving us all a little nuts.

Chapter 27

When Anna walked into the lobby the next morning, Phillipe and Stacy were waiting. Anna had arranged for her and Tom to have breakfast with Stacy. She was surprised to see Phillipe.
 

“Where’s Tom?” Stacy asked. “Did he oversleep as usual?”

Anna always felt that if something was hard to say, the best thing to do was to say it as quickly as possible. “They arrested him last night.”

“What?” Stacey’s mouth dropped. Anna noticed that Phillipe didn’t seem to react at all.

“What happened?” Stacy asked.

“They came in with a God damn swat team.”

“To arrest Tom?” Stacy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had always considered Tom to be a bit of a wuss. “Your Tom?”

“Sometimes things aren’t what they seem to be,” Phillipe said.

Anna looked at him. She was very surprised by his choice of words. “That’s exactly what Jeffrey told me last night.”

“Jeffrey?” Stacy asked.

“Never mind,” Anna said. She kept looking at Phillipe who looked away.

“The French police think Tom killed Madam Lapautre. The cop from home thinks he also killed Duncan and had something to do with Jeffrey.”

“Again,
your
Tom?” Stacy said. “That’s crazy, I mean he wasn’t even there when Jeffrey died.”

“That doesn’t seem to matter to them. They really didn’t even have any evidence to arrest him.” Anna decided to edit the story. “Just some fingerprints from that woman’s apartment where we were yesterday.”

“We have some more than that now,” the voice of Detective Malmann interrupted the conversation. Anna turned to face him. “A lot more.” He moved up next to Anna. “Can I talk to you alone, please?”

Anna looked at Stacy who touched her arm. “Go on. We’ll wait for you here.”

“Sure.” Anna walked with the detective to the far end of the lobby and sat down on one of the red overstuffed couches. Detective Malmann sat in a chair next to it.

“A little later this morning Mr. Howard will be officially charged with murder.”

Anna closed her eyes and sighed, hoping that when she opened them all of this, everything that had happened, would simply have gone away. She knew that was not going to happen. “I thought we were going to meet at the police station,” Anna said. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to talk to you alone to tell you that it doesn’t look good for your friend.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said last night. What’s changed? What happened?”