'She was murdered.'
'Maybe you should talk to the manager.'
'He might be in on it.'
'Oh for…' He shook his head. 'Is everyone in on it?'
'No, but the manager-'
'I've been coming here since it opened. The man may look awful in that get-up, but he seems to be a perfectly nice guy. Come on.' He crossed the lobby toward the entrance, where Bruno was taking tickets.
Connie hurried after him.
'Could we speak to you in private for a moment?'
Bruno nodded. He called to one of the vampire girls at the refreshment counter, then led the way to an office on the far side.
Connie followed both men inside. She stood near the open door.
Bruno pulled the stocking off his head. Without it, he had a pleasant, chubby face. 'Now,' he said. 'What seems to be the problem?'
Both men looked at Connie.
'The girl in that Schreck film wasn't an actress. Her name is Brit Anderson and she was murdered on camera. Actually murdered.'
Bruno shook his head, 'I'm afraid I don't understand. What leads you to think such a thing?'
'She said so. Her real words were dubbed over, but I read her lips.'
'Are you certain of this?'
'I know what she said, and I believe her.'
Bruno nodded. He picked up the telephone, and dialed O. 'Operator, put me in touch with the police. Yes, this is an emergency.' He covered the mouthpiece and said, 'They'll get to the bottom of this.' Then he took his hand away. 'Yes. I'm calling from the Haunted Palace movie theater at 8424 Pico. Would you send a car over here right away? We have an urgent situation… Apparently, murder has been committed… Yes. Thank you.' He hung up. 'That should get them here in short order.'
He stood up. 'Shall we go upstairs and seize the evidence?'
They followed him through the lobby. The carpeted stairway was roped off. A sign hung from the plush cordon: BALCONY CLOSED. Bruno unhooked one end of the cordon, and let them through.
At the top of the stairs, he stepped over to a door. He pushed a key into its lock, and opened it. 'Right through here,' he said.
The man and Connie entered.
She saw a pair of movie projectors near the side wall. One was running, its reels turning slowly, flashing pictures through the tiny window in front of it. A miniature image reflected on the pane.
Someone between the projectors.
Bruno talked to him, then picked up a film can and checked the label. 'It has to be rewound. Only take a minute. I should go down and see if the police are here yet.'
He stepped past the man.
'Excuse me,' he said, and moved past Connie. He shot an elbow into her side, knocking her off balance, and threw the door shut. Connie fell against the wall.
She saw the projectionist leap from between the two big machines. No warpaint, but she knew his face, his mad eyes.
Bruno swept her feet from under her. As her back hit the floor, she saw Schreck punch a screwdriver into the belly of the man who'd come up with her.
She flung up her crossed arms and blocked a kick Bruno aimed at her face.
Someone clutched her ankles.
'No!'
Schreck lifted her feet. He raised her off the floor until she was hanging upside down. In that position, with no leverage and her vision distorted, she was nearly defenseless. Still, she blocked Bruno's first punch to her belly. The second punch got through, knocking her wind out. She clutched her belly, and he kicked her in the head, and when she opened her eyes she was facedown on the backseat floor of a car speeding through the night.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The car drove for a long time. Connie's head throbbed with pain. Her arms, tied behind her back, were tingly and almost numb. Somebody's feet were on her back and rump. When she tried to lift her head, once, they stomped hard. After that, she didn't move.
She had a good idea of what they planned to do with her. She was frightened, but angry too.
Angry at herself. For letting Bruno sucker her that way. Obviously, he hadn't phoned the cops. Was his phone unplugged? She should've been more careful, damn it. And she got that poor man killed: she didn't even know his name.
Now, everything she'd learned about Dal and Elizabeth was useless. She should've gone to the cops with her information. But no, she'd been too damned set on getting her own revenge. Stupid! Now they might just get away with running Pete down.
Should've.
So damned many should'ves.
She should've gone to the hospital, tonight. Now she'd never see Pete again.
It's not over yet, kiddo.
Not over yet. Keep telling yourself that.
The car stopped. Doors opened. She was dragged out by her feet. Schreck lifted her and slung her over his shoulder. He carried her through the darkness. She felt a cool breeze on her back where the jacket of her warm-up suit had pulled up. The air smelled like the ocean.
We're near shore, she thought, and wondered what good that knowledge would do. What good would any of it do? Her martial arts training sure hadn't helped. Maybe the reverse. If she hadn't been so damned confident, she never would've waltzed into the projection room like an idiot.
Schreck carried her up a few wooden stairs. He waited a moment, then took her through a doorway. They were in darkness. He started up more stairs, his shoulder shoving into her belly with each step he climbed. The stairs seemed to go up forever. Finally, they stopped and he carried her through a long straight way. He turned. Her head brushed a wall or a door-frame. He carried her forward several steps, and bent over.
Connie fell backwards through the darkness. She landed on something soft-a bed?-with her legs hanging over the end.
An overhead light came on. Squinting in its brightness, she saw Schreck above her. He took a screwdriver from a deep pocket of his coveralls. She sucked in her belly. The blade pushed against her navel.
Bruno, behind him, said something.
'Sure, I can wait,' Schreck answered. He took the screwdriver away. He flipped it end over end, caught it by the handle, and slipped it into his pocket.
The two men sat down in chairs across the room.
'Can I sit up?' Connie asked, raising her head to see the response.
Bruno nodded.
She sat up. taking the pressure off her shoulders and numb arms. The men stared at her.
'What are you waiting for?' she asked.
'Todd,' said Bruno. 'The producer. He'll be along soon.'
'The producer?'
'Producer, writer, director.'
'The brains,' Schreck said, and smiled in a way that sent a chill up Connie's back.
'I'm going to star in one of your little productions?'
'I'm the star,' Schreck said.
'But we'd be nowhere,' added Bruno, 'without the little people.'
'I'll be recognized,' Connie said.
Bruno shrugged. 'Maybe. That'll be Filmworld's problem.'
'It'll get back to you.'
'Oh, I doubt that. Todd's the only connection, and he'll be in South America living like a king.'
'Where'll you be?'
'I'll still have the theater-a fairly profitable enterprise. I'm completely ignorant, naturally, of anything unusual about the Schreck films. I'm only an innocent exhibitor. And Otto, here, will undergo cosmetic surgery-he can use it, don't you think? With his new face, he'll continue as projectionist and my partner in the theater.'
'I have a lot of money.'
'Do you?'
'How much would it take to get you guys to let me go?'
'More than you have, I assure you.'
'Half a million dollars?'
'Come now.'
'I have that much in my savings account. Just untie me, and-'
Another man entered the room. Connie recognized him from tonight's film: he'd played the cowboy. 'Oh, she's a beauty!' he said.
'Look, let me go. I'll keep my mouth shut. You can split up my money among the th
ree of you.'
'Oh, we can't do that,' he told her. 'We have a film to make! The thirteenth and final Schreck.' Stepping close to Connie, he brushed a curtain of hair away from the side of her face. 'It's a pity they had to bang you up, but we'll make do.' He patted her bruised cheek. 'You've come as something of a surprise, unfortunately, so we'll have to work out a story-line before we commence shooting. I like to begin with the rode of death, and work backwards from there.'
'Don't strain your brain.'
He slapped her. Then he stepped right away and sat on a dresser. 'Can you see me all right? I don't want you to miss any of this.'
'I can see you.'
'Good. Now, we must find a way of dispatching you that hasn't been done to death-if you'll pardon the pun. We've already used knives, a fork, a scalpel, an axe, arrows, a chain saw. We hanged one. One unfortunate lady choked on human flesh. Schreck bit out the throat of another. Guns are out, naturally. Too mundane.'
'Let me skin her alive,' Schreck suggested.
'We don't want excessive nudity. We're doing horror, after all, not porn.'
'Film it from behind,' Bruno said.
Schreck scowled. 'All the good stuff's in front.'
'Well, we'll keep it in mind. Let's brainstorm for a bit, though.'
'Drown her in the bathtub?' Bruno asked.
'We already drowned one in the stream.'
'I'll pound nails in her.'
'Schreck the Carpenter,' Bruno said, and laughed.
'Bury her alive?'
'How would we film it?'
'How about I eat her?'
'Schreck the Snatch…'
'Too close to Gourmet Schreck.'
'Shit,' said Bruno. 'What's left?'
'We'll think of something. Genius, after all, is ninety percent perspiration.' He grinned at Connie. 'Do you have any preferences?'
'Yeah! Suppose I kill Schreck and escape? It'd give your film a nice upbeat finish. Audiences go for that.'
'Good thought, but I don't think we'll run with it.'
'We bury her alive,' Schreck said. 'But shallow. I bash her on the head, and throw the dirt on her. Only she's not dead. She digs her way out and tries to run away. I chase her down. I can take her head right off with the shovel.'
'I like it.'
Connie felt dizzy and faint. She took deep breaths.
'What do you think, Bruno?'
'Who digs the hole?'
'We'll let her do it. Good drama there, digging her own grave.'
'Just so I don't have to do it.'
'I'll take her head off last,' Schreck said. 'Chop her up some, before that.' His hands, gripping an imaginary shovel, jab the air. 'Ram her in the back. Get her down. Take off one of her hands, maybe. Or both of them. Maybe take off her feet. Then take that shovel and-'
Connie threw herself sideways and vomited on the mattress.
Schreck untied her feet. He made a loop at one end of the rope, and dropped it around her neck.
'Struggle a bit,' Todd said. 'You're on Candid Camera.' He pointed to a mirror above the dresser. 'Bruno's in the control room getting this down, so make it look good.'
She turned to the mirror. 'My name is Con-'
Schreck jerked the rope, yanking her off the end of the bed. She fell to her knees.
'Lovely,' Todd said.
Schreck dragged her by the rope. She kicked and choked. Then he grabbed her hair and pulled her to her feet. 'Walk, bitch,' he said.
Todd left the room first. He pranced ahead of them down the lighted hallway.
Schreck walked behind Connie, keeping the rope taut.
'Pull,' Todd said. 'Try to get free. You're fighting for your life.'
'Fuck you,' Connie said.
The rope jerked her backwards off her feet. She cried out as she landed on her tied arms. Schreck stepped past her. He grabbed her left foot, and dragged her to the end of the hall.
He'll break my arms, she thought. If he takes me down the stairs like this, they'll both…
But he stopped at the head of the stairway. He leaned over her, gripped her crotch and the front of her jacket, and hoisted her overhead. He carried her down the stairs that way, holding her high, one fist like a post pounding her chest, the other clutching as if to split the fabric of her warm-up pants and claw into her.
The door at the bottom of the stairs was open. He carried her outside, and stopped.
She expected to be hurled into the night, but he simply swung her down and shoved her against the wall. Todd was standing on the lawn, smiling and nodding.
Then Bruno came out the front door with a video camera on his shoulder as if he were here to capture the event for Eyewitness News. He stepped down the porch stairs, turned on a powerful light, and aimed the camera at her.
Schreck punched her in the belly. As she doubled over, choking, he flung her from the porch. She twisted in midair, and landed on her side.
Schreck cut her hands free. He grabbed the back of her jacket and carried her like a piece of luggage. Her feet dragged the grass, her arms hung numb and useless. Near the back of the house, her zipper popped apart at the bottom. It skidded open, dropping her. Schreck let her fall to the ground.
She didn't try to get up. She lay there on the cool wet grass. Her arms were no longer numb. They hurt and tingled.
She tried to think, but she couldn't concentrate. Her mind seemed blurry.
Schreck jerked her to her feet. She turned her face away from the brightness of Bruno's camera light.
Bruno pushed a shovel at her.
She took it.
He pointed to the ground at her feet.
She could barely grip the shovel. She punched it at the ground. It hardly went in an inch. She jumped on the top edges of its head. Her weight forced it deeper. She pried out a wedge of dirt, and dumped it on the grass. Then she repeated the process. This time, her arms were stronger. She jumped on the shovel with more force. It plunged in deeper. She took out a larger load.
Todd, she saw, was standing close to Bruno. Schreck remained beside her.
She stabbed in the shovel, jumped on it, and removed the dirt. She dumped it onto the growing pile. Then she lunged forward.
Schreck grabbed her. He caught the hanging hood of her warm-up jacket.
Todd's mouth moved. 'Let her go! Run her down!'
Schreck let go.
Connie ran. Glancing back, she saw Schreck close behind her. The others followed. She ran harder, but the shovel weighed her down. If she tossed it, she might outrun Schreck.
Ahead, she saw the tree where they'd burned the girl. Beyond it would be a steep slope, the brook, and a thickly wooded area. If she could make it to the woods…
She glanced back.
Saw Schreck's wild face, his reaching hands.
Shovel clutched to her chest, she threw herself head over heels, hit the grass, twisted around and jammed the handle to the ground. Schreck, unable to stop, ran against the shovel blade. The shaft jerked in Connie's hands. She yanked it, throwing Schreck overhead. He hit the ground and rolled. She rushed him. She raised the shovel high and crashed it down on the back of his head.
Looking around, she saw Todd and Bruno racing to catch up.
Schreck rolled onto his back.
Connie punched the shovel blade into his belly. It hardly went in an inch. She jumped on it with both feet, and it plunged in deep.
She jerked it out and whirled around. Shielding her eyes from the camera light, she saw Todd and Bruno a dozen feet away.
'Okay bastards, who's next?'
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
A nurse pushed the wheelchair out the automatic doors of the hospital. 'We're going to miss you, Pete.'
'Well, we'll be back one of these days. Give us about nine months.'
'Rascal.'
Connie handed him the crutches, and he used them to push himself out of the chair.
'Now watch yourself crossing streets,' the nurse said.
'I'll be careful.'
Connie smiled. 'I don't think he has to worry about any more accidents.'
EPILOGUE
SCREAM GEMS PRESENTS VENGEANCE!
In the shadows at the head of the cellar stairs, the door opens. A woman in a white nightgown lunges through it. Stumbling off the top stair, she throws herself against the railing. It wobbles, but stops her fall.
The door above her swings shut.
Pushing herself off the railing, she steps up to the door and tries it. Locked.
Slowly, she descends the stairs, moving out of shadows and into light. Her nightgown is grimy and torn, exposing her right breast. Her neck and face and legs are bandaged, her face dark with bruises.
Halfway down the stairs, she stops. She gazes at something below, then hurries to the bottom.
A man lies on the bone-littered floor near a coffin - tied and gagged.
Kneeling beside him, she peels the wide strip of tape off his mouth. His mouth is stuffed with a handkerchief. She pulls it out.
'Untie me,' the man says.
'Not just yet.'
'Please.'
'Tell me what's going on.'
'How do I know?'
'How'd you get here?'
'Some guy rang my doorbell. A fat guy. I opened up, and he stuck a gun in my face.'
'Who was he?'
'Untie me, huh?'
'Who was he?'
'Never seen him before. I figured he was a cop, you know? In fact, I asked him. He grinned and said, "You're under arrest for attempted murder. For hit-and-run." He didn't read me my rights, though. Then, down at the street, he opened the trunk of his car and bashed me on the head.'
'Roll over.'
He rolls onto his side, and the woman picks at the knotted rope behind his wrists.
'That's about what happened to me, too,' she says. 'Mine was a red-headed guy. I knew for sure he wasn't a cop. I saw plenty last night, and they didn't behave like this guy.'
'Did he hurt you?'
'Yeah. The bastard knocked me around, tore my nightgown. He didn't bash my head, though.'
'Did he put you in a car trunk?'
'Fuckin' right he did.' She finishes untying his hands. He rolls over, sits up, and starts to work on the knot at his feet.
'Who do you think they are?' he asks.