He turned off the water, slid back the curtain, and stepped onto the bath-mat. He pulled the clean white towel off the wire rack. He dried himself. When he was done, he held the towel open in front of him and checked both sides. It was still white.
His clothes were in the other room. He wrapped the towel around his waist. It was just large enough to meet at the hip. When he tucked the corners together, the side of his leg was left bare.
When I run this place, he thought, the guests will get bigger towels. No wonder we get rated so low.
He stepped out of the bathroom.
The bundle on the bed looked like a cocoon. Amy had been rolled up in the sheets, which were tied around her with ropes. The white sheets were soaked through with blood.
Dad, standing at the foot of the bed, was shaking open a plastic garbage bag.
'What should I do?' Kyle asked.
'Just watch. I'll show you everything. Next time, you'll do it all and I'll supervise. You'll be doing it by yourself one of these days.'
Kyle stepped over to his pile of clothes. The towel came loose as he walked, and he held it up, wondering why he bothered; he'd been naked in front of his father only a little while ago. It seemed different, now. He tucked the towel together and it stayed in place until he had his briefs on. Then he let it fall. He watched his father and continued to get dressed.
With the plastic bag open, Dad crawled onto the bed. He started to slip it around Amy's wrapped feet. 'All you missed,' he said, 'was tying the sheets around her. I already checked the bedspread and blanket. They're all right. They were off the bed before you started working on her.' He lifted the bundle, pulled the bag up to Amy's waist, then went for another bag. He put that one over Amy's head, drew it down so it overlapped the top of the other bag, then started binding them together with duct tape. Before climbing off the bed, he slapped the plastic mattress cover. 'This saves our mattress. We'll come back afterwards, mop it off, do a final cleanup.'
He went into the bathroom. Kyle watched him wash his hands, then gather up everything Amy had left behind, including the small bottle of shampoo on the edge of the tub. He brought her belongings out, and put them into her suitcase. 'One rule,' he said. 'We don't keep anything except cash. Nothing that can connect us to her.'
He wandered the room, collecting all of Amy's possessions and adding them to the suitcase. When he found her handbag, he took out the wallet and removed a handful of bills. He stuffed them into his pocket. Then he took out a key case.
'She drove in, so we've got a car to deal with. First thing in the morning, Ralph Dexter'll take it off our hands. He's been taking care of the cars for years, never asks any questions. He's got a garage, paints 'em, changes license plates, does the whole nine yards, has some kind of connections so they end up being sold out of state. We've never had any trouble with the things getting traced back to us.'
Kyle shook his head, amazed. 'You've really got it… set up.'
'Had a lot of practice,' Dad said. He shut the suitcase and snapped its latches. 'It started with Ely, and we've been doing it ever since.'
'And getting away with it,' Kyle said.
'We've had a few close calls. Your grandfather got busted once, but they dropped the charges. No evidence. That's part of the trick, don't leave any evidence. But the main trick is this: don't arouse suspicion.'
Dad wandered the room, making a final inspection, then picked up an ashtray, sat on a corner of the bed and lit a cigarette. 'I've been averaging about one a month for almost twenty years, now. I did it sometimes before then, but when your grandfather had his stroke, I took over the whole thing from him. Do you know how many women that makes?'
Kyle shook his head. He felt tired, excited, too dazed by it all to fool with maths.
'It makes about two hundred forty. That's give or take maybe a dozen. And I've never been busted. It's because I'm careful, and you've got to be careful too. You'll be doing all this by yourself, some day. For the time being. I'll show you the ropes, we'll share, take turns, that kind of thing.'
Kyle nodded.
Dad blew twin streams of pale smoke out his nose. 'It all comes down,' he said, 'to who you put in this room. You want them to be young and good looking, right? Where's the thrill of doing a gal looks like she's been whapped with an ugly stick? But there's a lot more to it than that.
'You're working the registration desk, a gal comes in. If she's not alone, obviously you forget it. The nice thing is, the cavern's an attraction that pulls in all kinds, and we get some women who are travelling alone. Not a whole lot of them, but enough so you can pick and choose.
'Okay, she's someone you wouldn't mind putting it to and she's alone. Is she married? Check her rings. If she's married, forget it. She fills out the registration card. Does she live nearby? Normally, they don't, or they wouldn't be checking into the hotel. But pay attention to where they live. Go for the ones who live out of state.'
Dad crushed out his cigarette. 'Take Amy. She comes in alone, she's a little hefty but cute. No wedding or engagement ring, and she's from Ohio. I talk to her a little bit, just acting friendly. Find out she's had a falling-out with her fiancee, a guy who's a little nuts and likes to knock her around. She's on her way to Manhattan, planning to start a new life without him. Saw the hotel sign as she was driving by, decided to spend the night and see the cavern tomorrow. Probably hoping to run into a nice young man in the process.' Dad grinned. 'And she did, huh? Two nice young men.'
Kyle chuckled.
'The point is, I got to know her some. Enough to find out nobody has an idea she's stopping here for the night. That means, when she turns up missing, nobody is going to come around here asking questions. She's perfect. So I check her into 115. See this?' He took a folded card out of his shirt pocket. 'It's her registration card. I burn it, no record she was ever here.'
Dad stood up. He set the ashtray on the bureau, and turned to Kyle. 'That's how it's done. You want to find a gal who can't be traced to the hotel. That's ninety-nine per cent of the trick. The other one per cent is making sure you don't get caught in the act. No big problem with that. Grab her suitcase.'
Kyle picked up the suitcase. His father lifted Amy's wrapped body off the bed and slung it over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. 'Another rule to remember,' Dad said as he started to walk under the burden. 'Don't bite off more than you can chew. Don't kill more than you can carry. It's not easy, lugging these bitches around.' He stepped through the opening left by the mirror.
Kyle followed him.
'Normally,' Dad said, 'I'd put her down on the chair here while I make sure the coast is clear. You go ahead and check, though.' He nodded towards the storeroom's door. 'Take a peek in the corridor and stairwell. Nobody's going to be wandering around this time of night, but it pays to be careful.'
Kyle set down the suitcase and opened the door. The long, dimly lighted hallway looked deserted. He stepped out and rushed the few feet to the firedoor. He pushed it open, glanced up and down the stairs, listened for a moment, then hurried back to the storeroom. 'It's okay,' he said, picking up the suitcase again.
He held the door open and was surprised by the speed with which his father crossed the open area to the fire-door. Kyle shut the storeroom door, made sure it was locked, then hurried to the stairwell.
Dad was already at the bottom, pushing the exit door. He's taking the body outside?
He knows what he's doing, Kyle told himself. Must. Kyle trotted down the four stairs to the bottom, and followed his father through the door.
The Cadillac was there, its trunk already open.
Dad bent over. The body flopped off his shoulder and dropped into the trunk. The car rocked slightly under the impact. He took the suitcase from Kyle and swung it in beside the body. Then, he lowered the trunk lid and pressed it down firmly so it latched with barely a sound.
Leaning back against the trunk, he folded his arms across his chest. 'That wasn't so hard, was it?'
'We're right out
in the open,' Kyle whispered.
'Are we? Take a look around.'
Kyle didn't need to take a look around; he'd been here countless times. They'd carried the body out the fire exit at the end of the hotel's east wing. Their car was backed up very close to the door, but…
Dad pointed at the hotel. 'No windows on this end,' he said. 'It was planned that way. Hedges over there,' he added, pointing to the other side of the driveway. Then he pointed out the rows of thick, tall bushes on either side of the exit door. 'And these,' he said, 'are in the way of anyone who might happen to wander onto the driveway from either the front or the back. So we may seem to be out in the open, but this particular spot is pretty well sheltered. If you're going to be seen by anyone, he has to be right on top of you.'
'What if that happens?'
'It never has, so far.'
'But…'
'I've always figured, if someone saw me, I'd kill him.' Dad reached behind his back, under his hanging shirt-tail, and pulled out a revolver. 'Insurance.' He slipped the gun back into place. 'Come on, let's get going.'
They climbed into the car. Dad started the engine, and drove with the headlights off until they rounded the first bend. There, trees along the roadside stood between them and the hotel. The headlights came on, pushing bright tunnels into the night.
'Where are we going?'
'Not far.'
'Have you got a special place where…?'
'Very special.' Dad pulled onto the dirt road at the cattle crossing. He climbed out, removed the padlock and chain from the gate, swung the gate open, and came back. He drove slowly forward. 'You know the story of Ely's Wall,' he said.
'Sure.'
'Well, it's a pile of horseshit. Elizabeth didn't fall down any chasm. Ely found out she'd been screwing around with their handyman, a guy by the name of Arnold Winston. So after the elevators were installed, he blocked off the natural opening and took her into the cavern. He tied her up down there. Then, he built Ely's Wall. Sealed her right up in that section of the cave, alive and well.'
'Holy shit,' Kyle muttered.
'Ever read The Cask of Amontillado?'
'Sure,' Kyle said.
'Well, Ely was a big fan of Mr Poe. It just tickled the hell out of him, walling up that hot-pants bitch of his.'
The car stopped in the middle of a stand of trees. Dad killed the headlights, then pressed the button on the dashboard that released the trunk latch. 'Come on,' he said.
They went to the trunk. Dad handed the suitcase to Kyle. He lifted the body out, swinging it over his shoulder.
Side by side, they walked through the trees. Kyle heard the far-off hoot of an owl. The only other sounds were their footsteps crunching over the forest floor, their breathing. The trees blocked out most of the moonlight. Except for a few speckles and patches of brightness, they walked in darkness.
Finally, Dad stopped near a cluster of rocks. He leaned forward. Amy's body dropped to the ground. Dad leaned back against a boulder, and sighed. 'Put down the suitcase and come here,' he said.
Kyle set it down. As he approached the vague shape of his father, he saw the man swing an arm out, thumb pointing behind him as if he were hitching a ride. 'Take a look back there, but watch your step.'
Kyle moved carefully around the side of the boulder. He saw a narrow patch of black on the dark ground. 'I don't… what's there?'
'The chute, son, the chute.'
Kyle shook his head.
'What it is, it's a sinkhole. It's like a natural chimney, drops right down into the closed part of the cave. What Ely did, once he had Elizabeth sealed up down there, he tricked Arnold into coming out here, banged him one on the head, and dropped him down the chute. Ely's idea of justice. His wife wanted Arnold, now she could have him. Forever.'
'Wow,' Kyle said. 'Fixed them, didn't he.'
'Maybe a little better than he ever expected.'
'What do you mean?'
Quiet laughter came from Kyle's father. Strange laughter. It made a chill crawl up Kyle's back.
'They didn't die. Neither one of them. That chute, it goes all the way down, but not straight down or the fall would've killed him. It's like a slide - part of the way, at least. Ely, he comes back a few days after he dropped Arnold down, and he yells into the hole just on the chance Elizabeth's close enough to hear. And she answers. They both do. They shout up to him, begging for him to let them out. So what does Ely do? He starts bringing them food and throwing it down the chute. Not much. Just enough so they don't starve. He wants them to stay alive, you see. Alive, but trapped forever down there. In the darkness. In the cold. Together.' Again, Dad let out that weird, crazy laugh.
'He brought them real delicacies. Table scraps, at first. Bones. Raw meat, sometimes. Whenever he showed up, they'd be waiting at the bottom of the chute. He'd tease them. He'd call, "Hungry down there?" And they'd beg him for food, and he'd make them say, "Pretty-please." He really put them through a routine. I'll show you his diary. It's pretty amusing stuff.
'Anyway, he was out driving one day and found a cat that'd been hit by a car. So he scooped it off the road and took that to them. He knew they'd eat it. They'd have to eat it, or starve. When they found out what he'd tossed down for them, they shrieked and yelled curses. Well, that really tickled Ely. So he started to bring them every kind of disgusting thing. He got hold of snakes and lizards and tossed them down the hole. He trapped rats for their supper. Sometimes, he'd throw them a loaf of bread, but he'd piss on it first. He even shot dogs and waited for them to get ripe before throwing them in.'
'He really did all that?' Kyle asked. He felt a little sick, but at the same time he admired the lengths that Ely had gone to for his revenge.
'Sure did,' Dad said. 'And enjoyed every minute of it. After a while, though, Elizabeth and Arnold changed their tune. They stopped saying "pretty-please." ' Dad started laughing. Kyle, unable to stop himself, joined in.
Finally, Dad wiped his eyes and sighed. 'Anyway, it started getting a little spooky. He'd hear them laughing down there. And they'd call up, asking him to come a little closer. They'd say they had something for him.'
'Wanted him to fall in the hole?' Kyle asked.
'Sure.'
'Sounds like they went nuts.'
'Totally bonkers. But Ely kept coming around and bringing them stuff. Then one day, a pretty young gal showed up at the hotel. She'd been on the road, didn't have any money, asked for a place to stay the night. Ely'd been without his wife for a couple of months, by then, and he was feeling pretty horny. So he used his pass key on the gal's room that night, let himself in, and had at her. She tried to fight him off. He ended up strangling her. When he was done, he brought her out here and gave her a ride on the chute.'
'And they ate her?' Kyle asked. 'That's how it started?'
'Yep. Ely got into the habit. And when his son, your grandfather, got old enough to appreciate the situation, he got initiated and kept the practice up, and passed it onto me.'
Kyle shook his head. 'But they must've died. Elizabeth and Arnold. I mean, that was like sixty years ago, or…'
'I imagine they did,' Dad said. He stood up and stepped around the rock. He got on his hands and knees at the edge of the hole. 'Soup's on!' he called. 'Hello! Room service!'
Quiet sounds floated up. Moans, giggles, voices.
Kyle cringed. He felt as if he had spiders in his hair. The voices, barely audible, made no sense. But they sounded gleeful.
Kyle looked at his father and shook his head.
'I come out here a couple times a week,' Dad said. 'Bring them a little something. And I listen. I figure there's six or eight of them down there. Sometimes, I've heard babies crying.'
Kyle crawled backwards away from the hole and couldn't hear the sounds anymore.
Dad stood up. He brushed off his knees. 'Come on, let's give Amy a ride.'
He picked her up, carried her to the black opening, and dropped her in. The garbage bags hissed and crackled. There were qu
iet bumps and thuds. Then silence. 'Suitcase, too,' Dad said. 'Keep the folk well-dressed.' Kyle dropped the suitcase into the hole and listened as it skidded down.
Crouching, Dad cupped his hands to his mouth and called into the blackness, 'Dig in, folks! Get it while it's hot!'
***
Jim's torch died. When Darcy's dwindled to glowing embers, she dropped the smoking remains of the board to the walkway. The middle of Greg's plank still burned. He held it low in front of him so the fire could climb the wood towards his hands.
The flames wobbled and flapped like a bright flag.
'They should give torchlight tours,' said Carol, who was walking just behind her. 'It's a lot more… interesting this way.'
' "May you live in interesting times," ' Helen said. 'An old Chinese curse.'
'I think it's nice.'
'You won't think it's so nice,' Helen told her, 'when that one goes out.'
'Greg's won't go out,' Darcy said. 'He's bearing the magic torch.'
'Right,' Greg said.
She put an arm across his back. His sweatshirt was cool and damp under her hand, but she felt his warmth beneath it. She moved closer to him, walking with her hip against his hip, the side of her breast pressing his upper arm.
She knew the others were looking at her. But she didn't care.
It's just Carol and Helen and Jim and Beth, she thought. Though Helen seemed a bit stiff, possibly even prudish, Darcy didn't mind showing some affection for Greg in front of these people. They were little more than strangers, but they were special. They were her team.
She had felt good, almost buoyant, ever since leaving the main group at the elevators. It was as if she had been set free. Kyle had been left behind. So had the man in the Peterbilt hat. And more than two dozen strangers who'd been depending on her to keep order and calm their fears and save them. The relief at being away from them all was huge.
It was like starting home after a bad party.
Or, she thought, more to the point, the senior dance. Very much like that. Her final year in high school, she had been class president and in charge of organizing the entire function - decorations, refreshments, entertainment. And when Mike Wakefield spiked the punch, she got plenty of heat from the adults. They'd blamed her, even though she'd had nothing to do with it. The other kids thought the dance was a great success, but Darcy hadn't been able to relax and enjoy a single moment of it, and the evening became a real ordeal after the liquor was discovered in the punch. Then she left with her date and two other couples and the pressure was gone. She went wild. She shouted and twirled around the parking lot like a mad woman. She talked her friends into driving out to the river and they all went skinny-dipping. She'd never felt so carefree, so daring. She swam under a bridge, leaving everyone behind except Steve, her date. They embraced in the warm water. Then she led him ashore and found a moonlit clearing. Though she'd gone steady with Steve for months, though she knew that she loved him, she had never allowed him to go all the way. That night, dripping from the river, she lay down on the cool grass and raised her arms towards him.