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THE WITCH'S LADDER (Detective Marcella Witch's Series) Page 13
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“Really? Do those things work?”
“That’s not the point, Gordon. The point is that Akasha and Shekina not only believe they work, but also that Lilith would make one and hide it on them. You got it?”
“Yes.”
“All right then, stop interrupting. So Jean arranged to have the twins come out here tonight to meet her.
“They’re coming here?”
“They think they’re going to learn where Lilith hid the witch’s ladder.”
Michael’s pacing intensified as he spoke. His strolling took him back and forth over the nylon line a dozen times without looking, yet he never tripped over it.
“When the twins get here, you and I will be hiding in the bushes. Jean will be here in the gazebo. She’ll give the signal and we’ll jump out and ambush them just as they had us ambush Doctor Lieberman. They’re small. We can each take one. Only this time we’ll be ready with all the tools we need to finish the job right.”
He pointed to Lilith, who wheeled her hands out from behind her back and produced a roll of duct tape. For dramatics, she yanked on the roll, pulled a three-foot section of tape free and mocked an assault on Gordon, demonstrating how quickly they would have the twins completely bound and gagged.
“That’s where Valerie and Lilith come in,” said Michael. “They’ll tape the girls up tight and have them ready for the final solution.”
“The final solution?” Gordon held up the hangman’s noose. “This?”
“Yes.”
“We’re going to hang them?”
“That’s right.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what you do to evil souls. That’s how you send them back to the Eighth Sphere.”
“But I thought we had to drain all their blood.”
“That’s bullshit. That’s what the twins told us. They said that to get me to cut Doctor Lieberman’s throat. I did some checking. It’s commonplace in South African voodoo to use the livers of goats, sheep, dogs and even people for everything from divination to medication. And in some extreme cases, they use the livers to exercise the law of contagion. Isn’t that right, Lilith?”
“It’s true, Gordon. The concept originated in South Africa. Since the earliest known tribes of humankind, the law of contagion had been put to the test. Often a stronger, younger tribal warrior would take on an elder tribal leader in a battle for leadership. When the younger warrior won, which was often the case, the first thing he’d do is cut out the elder’s heart.”
“And he’d eat it?”
“Yes, and the rest of the tribe would celebrate because they believed that their new leader would not only be stronger than the last, but also wiser.”
“Wiser?”
“Because after eating the heart, he would possess the additional wisdom of the elder. It’s really not much different from what they saw going on in the animal world all around them every day. The younger, stronger lions challenged the older dominant ones for control over the pride. Same thing with monkeys, jackals, hyenas and so on.”
“And so this law of contagion, or attraction of blood, you’re sure it’s what the twins practice in order to enhance their powers of the supernatural?”
“Apparently.” Michael strolled up to Gordon and patted him on gut. “And you better watch it, Pal. I bet your liver would feed them both for a week.”
Twenty minutes later, Valerie showed up carrying a flashlight and a can of gasoline. “Sorry, I’m late, everyone. Detective Marcella called unexpectedly to ask me questions about last night.”
“Damn it,” said Michael. “He suspects us, doesn’t he?”
“Not at all. He’s worried about us. He wants to provide round-the-clock protection. Can you believe it?”
Gordon said, “What if the twins show up tonight with a police escort?”
“Let’s hope they don’t,” said Michael.
“This is a mistake,” said Lilith. “It doesn’t feel right.”
She motioned towards the steps. Michael moved to the edge of the gazebo’s opening, blocking the exit for anyone thinking of leaving. A silver beam of moonlight caught the side of his face, and for just a moment made him look almost skeletal.
“Listen, Lilith,” he said. “Listen everyone. This is serious business. You know what the twins are capable of. If we don’t put an end to this tonight, others will die because of our failure. The girls will either kill us or turn us in for killing Doctor Lieberman, and then they’ll be free to continue killing as they please. Am I wrong?”
His comment solicited no rebuttals.
“Look,” said Valerie, pointing at a set of approaching headlights. “That’s them!”
Michael, Gordon, Valerie and Lilith scurried behind the gazebo and into the brush surrounding the structure. Jean took up position in the center of the floor. A twig snapped behind her, and then another as the others settled into the thicket.
“Quiet back there,” she said in a muted shout. “They’re almost here.”
She turned to face the headlights. More rustling stirred the branches, another snap and then silence.
“Hello, ladies,” she said, smiling as Akasha and Shekina exited the car and neared the gazebo. “I’m glad you came. I was so afraid for you when I heard Lilith talking about that witch’s ladder, I just had to call.”
“We’re glad you did,” Shekina replied, climbing the three wooden steps into the gazebo. Her sister followed. “I knew Lilith was making one of those dreadful things for us. I honestly don’t know why she despises us so.”
“Me neither, Shekina. I like you girls. You’re strong-willed, smart and independent. I suppose that’s why Lilith doesn’t like you. She’s jealous and intimidated by you.”
“Jealous, I’m sure,” Akasha replied. “But I hardly think she’s intimidated, the way she flaunts her witchcraft at us all the time.”
Jean forced a smile. “I bet your witchcraft is every bit as good as hers.”
“What makes you think we practice witchcraft?”
“Well, don’t you...I mean, I assumed, considering your background. Don’t you come from Messina?”
“You know Messina?”
“I know of it. It’s a virtual hotbed of voodoo and witchcraft culture in South Africa. Isn’t it?”
“Hmm…yes, well there are some in Messina who dabble in those kinds of things, but we certainly don’t. It’s more the ways of the elders and not of our generation.”
“I see.”
“Jean, you called us here to tell us about the witch’s ladder. Do you know where Lilith hid it?”
“Yes, of course.”
In the shrubs behind the gazebo, another twig snapped. Akasha turned quickly to look.
“Yes, the witch’s ladder,” said Jean, coerced by the sound of the twig. “I do know where you’ll find it.” She led the twins to the far end of the gazebo away from the exit, against the railing overlooking the lake. “There,” she said, pointing across the water, evoking the coded phrase signaling the boys to spring into action. “What you seek is out there. You have to look closely. It is there, and the time is now.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I said the time is now!”
A flutter of snapping twigs and cracking branches spilled from the shadows behind the gazebo. The twins turned around in time to see Michael and Gordon storming the structure like charging bulls. They struck with such shocking speed and surprise that even Jean shrieked with terror. They rounded the corner and pounced unmercifully on the girls, taking them down easily with no regard for the broken bones or lacerations that each undoubtedly suffered. Valerie and Lilith quickly emerged with duct tape and nylon rope in hand.
“Hold her steady,” Valerie ordered, referring to Akasha who struggled considerably harder than her twin. “Don’t let the little bitch get away.”
“Ouch,” Gordon cried. “She bit me!”
“Hold her!” Michael yelled.
“Damn it. She bit me again
.”
“Ok, I got her, I got her.”
“Watch her feet Michael,” Jean said.
“I got ‘em. Hurry up with the tape already.”
Bodies rolled back and forth, thumping and slapping painfully along the floorboards. Somewhere in the mayhem, Akasha managed to slip out from under Gordon’s weight and began scurrying for the exit.
“Stop her!” Valerie hollered. “Don’t let her get away!”
Michael reached out from the midst of twisted limbs and snatched Akasha by the ankle. Valerie tore a foot-long strip of tape off the roll and slapped it across Akasha’s mouth. The next piece found Shekina’s lips.
“That should shut them up,” she said, and she commenced hog-tying Shekina’s ankles and wrists with all the finesse of a rodeo cowgirl. The kicking and squirming continued among muffled moans, but their struggle to escape meant only more pain.
Gordon and Michael pulled the girls to their feet. Valerie slipped a hangman’s noose around each of their delicate necks. With the ropes cinched tight, the boys pulled on the lines and hoisted the two into the air. Their wire-frame bodies wrenched violently, but their bound hands and ankles, wrapped tighter than a witch’s knot, afforded them no room for escape.
Thus was the last memory of life on Earth for Shekina and Akasha Kayo.
“It’s a bit unsettling to watch, isn’t it?” Valerie remarked, noting Jean’s difficulty in coming to terms with the affair.
“It is,” she said, turning her eyes away. “I’m sorry. I thought I could do this.”
“Don’t go off on us now, Jeanie,” Michael warned. “It’s too late to turn back. Just remind yourself that these two are vicious, evil, sadistic agents of Satan.”
“I know, Michael. In my heart I know you’re right. I just…I hate to see the suffering.”
“They’re not suffering. They can’t feel a thing.”
Jean looked back at the girls, their bodies hanging limp. Only the occasional twitch gave indications that life still lingered within their tiny bones. “No?”
“That’s right. Trust me. The twitching is involuntary muscle spasms. They blacked out as soon as we hoisted them into the air.”
She may have wanted to believe him, but the opposite was probably true. In all likelihood, the twins forgot about their broken bones and lacerations the moment the noose tightened around their necks and jerked them skyward. There they would have learned that the frailty of their build provided no comfort once the noose and gravity began a tug-of-war on their bodies––their pain increasing exponentially until the last spasm subsided. Until that moment came, Jean closed her eyes and turned away.
“What do we do now?” Gordon asked.
Michael answered, “We finish the job.”
He cleared the gazebo’s three wooden steps in a broad jump and sprinted around to the backside. Returning with the gasoline he ordered, “Everyone out,” and began spilling fuel over the floor and on the girls as they swung silently in the temperate breeze. With the structure thoroughly soaked, he calmly, coldly, pitched a match into the gazebo. The flames burst to life with a whoosh, igniting the night as though the sun had come out to bear witness to the eradication of evil.
“We don’t have much time,” he said. “We need to go before someone sees the flames and investigates.”
“Wait,” said Gordon, yielding to the urge compelling him to watch the flames consume the twins.
Lilith came up behind him and set her hand on his shoulder. “Tell me we did the right thing,” she said. The reflection of firelight danced wildly in her eyes.
“We did, Lilith. We did the right thing.”
“It doesn’t feel right. I usually trust my instincts, and this isn’t sitting well with me at all.”
“Lilith, you do believe the twins were responsible for all the murders, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“And that they tricked us into killing Doc Lieberman?”
“Yes, but––”
“Then trust me. We did the right thing. They were evil little bitches that had to die.”
She shook her head doubtfully. “I sure hope you’re right.”
“I’m right,” he said, and he raised his hand to his forehead and saluted the fire. “This is for you, Travis, wherever you are.”
“And you, Barbara,” said Valerie.
Michael added, “And for you too, Chris. We’ll never forget you guys.”
A hallowed silence followed for the memory of Doctor Lieberman and those who had suffered needlessly. For that moment, time stood still. They might have watched the flames for hours if not for Jean, who gave warning of an approaching fire truck, its distant scream creeping closer.
“We better go now.”
Valerie added, “Remember to look around. Don’t leave anything behind, and for God’s sake work on an alibi. I’m sure Detective Marcella will try to reach us all tomorrow. Be ready for him.”
“Look!” Gordon pointed, and as the others looked closer, they saw that he was not pointing at the fire, but through it, to the other side of the gazebo. “Over there. You see? There’s someone on the other side.”
It was Leona, watching in silence as the rope melted tighter around the twins’ necks, the intense heat morphing the nylon into a molten glob of synthetic lava, bubbling and blistering against their skin. The line ultimately burned through and broke, allowing their bodies to plummet to the floor, surrendering to the flames in a sizzle of meat, bone and marrow.
“Leona!” cried Valerie. “She’s come back.”
Leona moved in closer, the brilliant glow of firelight illuminating her face. Tears tracked steadily down her cheeks. Just as she had the night before, Leona’s body seemed only semi-solid, not see-through, but translucent. This time there seemed no doubt, she had come in a state of bilocation. The flames continued to dance wildly, at times obstructing their view, but in the flickering glimpses they observed her once again holding a string of beads.
“I don’t understand,” Valerie complained. “It’s the beads again. I can’t imagine what she’s trying to tell us. Whatever it is, it must be terribly important.”
“I’m sure it is, Val,” said Lilith. “But we really have to go. The fire trucks are almost here.”
“I can’t leave her. I have to know why she wants us to have those beads. They must mean something.”
“Maybe they do. Maybe they don’t. But one thing’s for sure.” Lilith grabbed Valerie by the arm and began leading her from the gazebo. “We’ve got to get out of here now. We’ll see her again, I promise, but we must leave this minute.”
Valerie resisted, but not greatly, and when Lilith tugged harder, she yielded. The group fell back, vanishing into the night, leaving only the charred and blackened remains of the once beautiful Akasha and Shekina Kayo burning in the fiery hells of vengeance; and Leona, once again, a silent witness to it all.
Eleven
Aside from attending psychic workshops in the evening, Michael, like most in the group, held down a full-time job during the day. He worked at a local hardware store, and it was there that I came to see him on the morning after the gazebo fire. He was in the paint aisle stocking shelves when I approached him from behind.
“What’s the best thing for cover-ups?” I asked.
He answered without turning around. “Indoor paint or outdoor?”
“No paint, just cover-ups.”
“You’re talking about the Surgeon Stalker. Aren’t you, Detective?” He turned to me slowly.
“That’s all I can talk about these days. It’s getting out of hand and it seems there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m sure you know about Lieberman?”
“I heard. I suppose now you believe the killer has singled out our workshop for some reason.”
“Oh, I’ve imagined that much already, ever since Chris Walker and my deputy were murdered. But you know what I don’t understand?”
“No, sir?”
“Doctor Lieberman. I don’t unde
rstand why the killer beat and tortured him before taking his liver. The other victims showed no signs of torture. Did you know the killer cut his head off?”
“They did?”
“You didn’t know?”
“Should I have?”
“You said you heard about it.”
“I don’t know then. Maybe I did.”
I nodded. “Actually, it wasn’t completely severed. The killer left it hanging like a Pez dispenser.” I smiled thinly and paused to take note of Michael’s body language. My comment was crude; I knew that, but I meant it to measure his sensitivity to the subject. I also knew that although it was important to listen to what Michael said, I would likely gain more information from the way he said it. I listened and watched, but his response yielded neither amusement nor contempt: only a blank stare. In my book, even a lack of response can sometimes tell volumes.
“You know, Michael, I’m surprised you’re here. Did you know Leona and the twins have gone into hiding?”
“Oh?”
“So we think. That is to say we found the twins’ car last night, abandoned out by the lake. You don’t know anything about that, do you?”
“No, sir. Maybe some kids stole it and drove it out there.”
“No, I don’t so. We found the keys in the ignition. I’m pretty sure the girls drove it there. The car seat was pulled up as far as it could go and the steering wheel was telescoped out, you know, like someone small had been driving: someone like Shekina or Akasha.”
“That is strange, Detective, but like I said, I don’t know.”
“How `bout Leona? Can you think of where she might be hiding out? Something tells me she’s the key to this whole thing.”
“Why’s that?”
“The other night, before she ran out of the room, she said something in Spanish. Do you know what it was?”
“My Spanish isn’t that great. Why don’t you enlighten me?”
“She said she knew who the killer was. Do you think that’s possible?”