Allhallow's Eve: (Richard Laymon Horror Classic)

  ‘Why would he burn the house?’

  ‘So we’ll assume he’s dead.’

  ‘We’re not going to assume he’s dead if we don’t find the body.’

  ‘Oh, you know people.’ She made a weary smile. ‘Horner probably didn’t know any better. He figured, if he burnt the house down, we’d think he and his family got turned to ashes.’

  ‘Not a very smart fellow.’

  ‘Murderers aren’t normally famous for their brains.’

  ‘Has Berney come up with a motive?’

  ‘Not yet. He’s going over to Horner’s office, this morning. You’re supposed to continue with the Thelma angle. Oh, a call came in for you, a few minutes ago.’ She glanced down at the log book. ‘A Miss Melodie Caine.’

  The name slammed into him. His heart raced and his mouth went dry.

  ‘You’re supposed to call her right away.’

  He swallowed. ‘Did she leave a number?’

  Betty read the number, and Sam copied it with a shaky hand.

  He dialed from the phone at his desk. As he listened to the ringing, he nearly hung up; he could drive out to the motel, and get her message in person. The idea excited him, but he’d promised himself to stay away. He would hold to that promise.

  I’m committed to Cynthia now, he thought.

  For better or worse.

  ‘Sleepy Hollow Inn,’ said the low, familiar voice.

  ‘Melodie, this is Sam Wyatt.’

  ‘Good. I’m glad you got back to me so fast. I’ve got something for you, Sam. You know those people in room Four? Well, one of them – the man – made a telephone call after you left. He called from his room, so I had to put it through for him. Would you like to know the number?’

  ‘I sure would.’

  ‘Thought you might.’

  Sam copied the number as she gave it to him. ‘That’s great, Melodie. Thanks a lot.’

  ‘Hey, let me know how it all turns out, okay?’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Take care, Sam.’

  ‘You too.’

  Her telephone clacked down. For a moment, Sam listened to the empty, desolate sound of the empty wires. Then he hung up.

  ‘Got something?’ Betty asked.

  ‘Could be.’ He flipped through the special directory listing its entries by telephone number.

  A woman in jeans and a sweatshirt opened the door. Sam gazed at her dishwater blond hair, her haggard, familiar face. ‘Thelma?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m Marjorie,’ she said.

  Sam glanced at his note pad. ‘Are you Mrs Doons?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘You look …’

  ‘Thelma’s my sister.’

  ‘Twins?’

  ‘We’re a couple of years apart. If you’re looking for Thelma, she’s not in.’

  ‘Is she staying with you?’

  The woman nodded.

  ‘Could I talk to you?’

  ‘Come in.’

  He followed her into the living room, and took a seat. ‘I’m Sam Wyatt,’ he said.

  ‘You’re here about Dexter.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘God, that was a terrible thing.’

  ‘Where is Thelma?’

  ‘She’s spending the day in Dendron with our mother.’

  Dendron again. As if fate were trying to drag Sam back there, back to the Sleepy Hollow Inn and Melodie. ‘Your mother lives in Dendron? Could I have her address?’

  ‘There’s really no point in that. Thelma’ll be home this evening. Why don’t I have her phone you when she arrives?’

  ‘I’d prefer to see her as soon as possible.’

  Marjorie sighed. ‘If you insist, then. It’s 354 Tenth Street.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, writing it down. ‘When did Thelma arrive in town?’

  ‘Tuesday morning.’

  ‘And she’s been staying here with you?’

  Marjorie nodded. ‘If you think she had anything to do with Dexter’s death, you’re wrong. It’s just an unfortunate coincidence that she happened to be in town, this week. She’s been back – oh, two or three times a year since she and Dexter split up. Nothing ever happened before. If she wanted to kill him, she had plenty of chances to do it before now. She was finished with Dexter the night she walked out on him.’

  ‘Why did she come to town this week?’

  ‘Tomorrow’s my birthday.’

  ‘She came in from Milwaukee to celebrate your birthday?’

  ‘Oh, she hasn’t lived in Milwaukee for years. She went there with Babe Rawls. They were only together for six months or so. He treated her shamefully – beat her up all the time and subjected her to … well, I needn’t dwell on all the sordid details. Suffice it to say that she had enough of it, and left him. She’s been living in Hayward for the better part of a year.’

  ‘Do you know where she was Wednesday night?’

  ‘She spent the night here.’

  ‘Did she go out?’

  ‘Why, yes. She went over to the Sunset Lounge.’

  The Sunset Lounge. Sam had been there himself that night, with Cynthia. Of course, he hadn’t been looking for Thelma then. At that point, he hadn’t even known what she looked like. She might have been sitting at the next table.

  ‘Did she go there alone?’

  Marjorie shook her head. ‘She went with Ticia Barnes.’

  Sam raised his eyebrows.

  ‘They’re old friends,’ Marjorie explained. ‘Ticia used to live next door to us, when we lived on Seventh Street.’

  ‘What time did Thelma leave for the lounge?’

  ‘Oh, nine-ish. You can check with Ticia, if you wish. She picked Thelma up.’

  ‘What time did Thelma get back?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘You said she spent the night here.’

  ‘And so she did. Phillip and I hardly felt it necessary to wait up for her. We went to bed at our usual time. Maybe Phillip heard her come in, but I’m afraid I was dead to the world. I haven’t the vaguest notion what time she came in. I know she was here, though. She joined us for breakfast in the morning.’

  ‘What time was that?’

  ‘Seven.’

  ‘And she didn’t tell you what time she got home?’

  ‘Not a word.’

  ‘Did she say anything about what she’d done?’

  ‘Oh, just that she and Ticia had a great time.’

  ‘Did she say she’d met anyone?’

  ‘No. But why don’t you have a word with Ticia? I’m sure she can fill you in.’

  21

  At the ten-thirty ‘nutrition break’, Eric headed for the school library. With all the kids running loose, it was the only place of safety. He’d discovered this sanctuary during the second week of school, after spending his nutrition and lunch periods in terror.

  Nate Houlder had chased him, that day, threatening to beat the shit out of him.

  Eric barely made it to the library door. He rushed inside, Nate hot on his tail.

  ‘Hold it!’ Mr Carlson had yelled, his voice booming through the quiet library.

  Eric stopped, but Nate kept coming and grabbed his arm.

  ‘Let go of him!’

  Nate dragged him toward the door.

  Mr Carlson’s face turned bright red and he suddenly ran from behind the circulation desk, his corduroy jacket fluttering behind him.

  Nate hesitated, then smirked as if he thought the librarian was a joke. He pulled Eric toward the door.

  ‘Damn it, you little …!’ Carlson’s hand chopped Nate’s forearm. Eric pulled away from the loose fingers.

  ‘You hit me,’ Nate snarled.

  ‘I told you to let go of him.’

  ‘Man, I’m gonna sue your ass.’

  ‘Be my guest. In the meantime, get out of here.’

  Nate glared at him.

  Carlson shoved him.

  ‘Hey, don’t push me!’

  ‘Get out of here.’

/>   Nate turned away. ‘I’m going, I’m going.’

  ‘Not fast enough.’ Following the boy, Carlson nudged his trailing foot sideways and tripped him. Nate caught himself on the bar of the door. As he left, he looked over his shoulder. ‘Goddamn fag. You two deserve each other.’

  Eric smiled, remembering the scene. By driving him into the library that day, Nate had done him a real favor. His life at Ashburg High had improved a lot since discovering the refuge: nutrition and lunch periods were no longer times of being chased, punched, and trash-canned. Instead, he could sit in the safety of the library, read, or join the others chatting with Mr Carlson.

  Of course, it was still a problem getting there unscathed. As he walked past the other students, today, he kept a sharp eye out for Nate and Bill and half a dozen other guys with nothing better to do than torment him.

  Glimpsing someone close to his side, he took a quick step away and looked around. Only Beth. She smiled slightly, her lips together in a way she’d started smiling since she got her braces.

  ‘What happened to your hand?’ she asked.

  ‘Ah, nothing. I cut it on a broken glass, last night.’

  ‘Where’re you going?’

  ‘The library.’

  ‘Me, too. No more snack bar for me.’

  ‘You’re not fat.’

  She laughed softly. For a moment, her bright clear eyes met Eric’s. Then she lowered them as if embarrassed. ‘I’m not skinny, either.’

  ‘Who says you have to be?’

  ‘Oh, nearly everyone.’

  ‘What do they know,’ he said.

  As they talked together, he sneaked glances at Beth. She was no taller than him, with light brown hair and a band of freckles across her nose and cheeks. He’d known her since she moved to Ashburg three years ago. She never made fun of his size or his mind, and she wasn’t pretty enough to frighten him so they got along just fine.

  ‘Are you going to the Halloween party?’ Eric asked.

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘Which one?’ He looked at her, frowning. ‘The one at the old Sherwood house.’

  ‘Do you think that’s for real?’

  ‘Sure. I got an invitation.’

  ‘So did I, but I can’t imagine the place will be opened for a party. It’s been boarded up for years.’

  ‘It’ll be open tonight.’

  ‘You sound awfully sure.’

  ‘It just doesn’t make sense for somebody to send out all those invitations and then not have a party.’

  ‘I think it’s just a gag,’ Beth said.

  Eric shook his head. ‘Gee, I was hoping …’

  ‘What?’ She looked at him, smiling.

  ‘I was kind of hoping you’d be there.’ He reached for the library door.

  ‘Wait. Let’s not go in yet.’

  Their eyes locked. He saw her blush, and felt heat rushing to his own face.

  ‘Aleshia’s having a party tonight.’

  ‘She is?’ Eric tried to keep his disappointment from showing. If Aleshia had a party, she wouldn’t be at the Sherwood house. Not Beth, not Aleshia. How many others wouldn’t show up? Maybe he’d be the only one…

  ‘Eric, would you like to go with me to Aleshia’s party?’

  ‘Me?’ He pictured Aleshia, lithe and smiling. At her party, he could look at her for hours, talk to her, maybe even somehow touch her, feel the warm smoothness of her skin. ‘I’d sure like to …’

  Beth shrugged. ‘I know it’s awfully late to be asking. You probably have other plans.’

  ‘Sort of.’

  ‘It’s all right. I can ask somebody else.’

  ‘No, don’t. I’ll go with you.’

  ‘Really, you don’t have to.’

  ‘I want to. It’s just that … I’ve got a problem about …’ He sighed. ‘I want to go to the Sherwood house.’

  ‘What on earth for?’

  ‘I guess because it’s been shut up, all these years. I’ve always wondered what it must be like inside. Haven’t you?’

  ‘A little, maybe.’

  ‘And it just seems like such a great place for a Halloween party.’

  ‘Great, like a boneyard.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s just the point. And another thing is, nobody knows who’s giving the party. Like it’s a big mystery. I’d like to go and find out.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Beth shook her head. ‘I promised Aleshia I’d go to her party. I guess, if you really have to go to the other one … Well, maybe I’d better find someone else for tonight.’

  ‘Oh, don’t do that.’

  ‘What about the Sherwood house?’

  ‘It won’t be much fun, anyway, if nobody else is there.’

  Beth smiled, this time not holding back to hide her braces, this time beaming.

  22

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you again, Mrs Barnes …’

  ‘Then don’t. I’m quite busy. My daughter is having a party tonight, and I’ve got a jillion things to do.’

  ‘I won’t take up much of your time.’

  She looked past him as if she half expected neighbors to be gathering in the street. ‘You’d better come in,’ she said.

  Sam followed her across the foyer. In the living room, Ticia stepped over a vacuum cleaner and sat on the couch. She folded her hands in the lap of her Sassoon jeans.

  ‘If it’s about last night,’ she said, ‘I frankly don’t see why my private life is any of your business.’

  ‘It’s not about that. Where were you Wednesday night?’

  Her pale skin turned red. ‘What are you implying?’

  ‘You weren’t home Wednesday night. I’d like to know where you were.’

  ‘I fail to see what this has to do with anything.’

  ‘It has to do with Chief Boyanski’s murder. Now, please answer the question.’

  She stared at her folded hands, her eyes blinking rapidly. ‘All right,’ she finally said. ‘I have nothing to be ashamed of. I went to the Sunset Lounge.’

  ‘Alone?’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘You already know, don’t you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be asking these questions.’

  ‘I don’t know as much as I’d like.’

  ‘I went with Thelma. I picked her up at her sister’s house.’

  ‘What time?’

  ‘Around nine.’

  ‘When did you leave the lounge?’

  ‘Midnight.’

  ‘Did Thelma leave with you?’

  She stared down at her hands. ‘I really fail to see…’

  ‘She didn’t leave with you?’

  ‘We met some friends. After a few drinks, we went our separate ways.’

  ‘When did Thelma and her friend leave?’

  ‘They left a little earlier. Eleven-thirty, maybe.’

  ‘Who did she go with?’

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘I’m asking you.’

  Ticia smiled. ‘I do hate to disappoint you, but I don’t know the man’s name.’

  ‘You and Thelma sat and had drinks with him for – what, two hours? – and you didn’t catch his name?’

  ‘He was at the bar. Thelma went to join him, while I stayed at the table with Elmer.’

  ‘You were with Elmer Cantwell?’

  ‘He doesn’t know the man, either. We both thought it a trifle foolhardy of Thelma to go off with a stranger. Elmer was somewhat disappointed, too. I’m sure he’d joined us with the expectation of swooping away with Thelma. He hardly knew me, at that point.’ Ticia smiled with satisfaction. ‘I must say, however, his disappointment was short-lived.’

  ‘You didn’t see Thelma, after she left with the stranger?’

  ‘Should we have?’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘No, we saw neither hide nor hair of them, after that.’

  ‘Have you seen Thelma, since then?’

  ‘She phoned the next morning to say she’d had a wonderful time.’
br />   ‘Did she mention what they did?’

  Ticia grinned. ‘Really, Mr Wyatt. I think we can make certain assumptions on that score – no pun intended.’

  Sam wasn’t amused. ‘Did she say where they went?’

  ‘Somewhere private, I should imagine.’

  ‘But she didn’t say?’

  ‘No, she didn’t say. I think you’ll have to ask Thelma about that.’

  23

  ‘Eric Prince?’ Aleshia, walking with Beth during lunch period, rolled her eyes. ‘He’s such a simp. You certainly could’ve done better than Eric Prince.’

  ‘I like him.’ Beth dodged to safety as a boy raced by on the asphalt.

  ‘I like Hostess Twinkies, for heaven’s sake. That doesn’t mean I have to date one.’

  Beth shrugged and took a bite of her turkey sandwich. Mom had made it for her and used such a tiny speck of mayonnaise that the sandwich was too dry to eat. She managed to swallow the lump already in her mouth. ‘There’s nothing wrong with Eric,’ she said.

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with Twinkies.’

  ‘The guys just pick on him because he’s smaller than they are.’

  ‘If you prefer to think that, be my guest.’

  ‘He’s not a fag.’

  Aleshia smiled. ‘Is that a fact?’

  ‘Everybody’s a “fag” around here if he gets good grades and doesn’t go out for football.’ She tossed her uneaten sandwich. It vanished into a trash can, and thunked. ‘Eric’s just more sensitive than most of the other guys.’

  ‘You must admit he’s a trifle effeminate.’

  ‘A little, maybe. Doesn’t bother me. I mean, the guy hasn’t got a father.’

  ‘I always knew he was hatched.’

  ‘I’m being serious. How can you expect a guy to act all tough and masculine when he’s never had a father around to learn from?’

  ‘Beats me. What’re you going as?’

  ‘We haven’t decided. We’re meeting after cheerleaders and going over some ideas. Do you know what you’ll be wearing?’

  Aleshia struck a pose, chin high, one eyebrow raised, fingers deep in her hair. ‘Perhaps I’ll come as myself, Aleshia, the divine one whose body lights men afire with pagan lust.’

  ‘Lots of luck,’ Beth said, and danced out of the way laughing as Aleshia kicked. Her shoulder struck someone. Her feet tangled. Hands flew and clutched her, pulling her down backwards. She landed on top of a sprawling boy.