House of Skin (23 page)

He held her. “None of us did.”

“Who do you think robbed his flat?” she asked.

“I know what I think. But what do you?”

“Eddy.” The word fell from her lips heavily.

“Yeah. Who else would?”

Lisa looked into his eyes, her face lacking expression. “He took the body, too. I’m sure of it. No one else would have a reason.”

“And our Jane Doe?”

“Probably that one, too”

Fenn lit a cigarette. “I agree. But why? Why would he risk his own freedom by waltzing into a morgue and snatching a body?”

“He has his reasons.” She looked scared suddenly. “I don’t know what they are and in a way, I don’t want to. But it’s all tied up with this business of the Territories and the Sisters. It has to be.”

“If that’s the case, then he’s crazier than anyone thought.”

There seemed to be nothing further to say. They fell into their own respective silences and thought.

Fenn saw Eddy Zero as being more dangerous than ever. He didn’t put too much stock in any of this business about the Territories. It was a delusion shared by a couple of psychopaths and as such, it wasn’t something he planned to lose much sleep over. He didn’t really care why Eddy was doing what he was doing; that was the provenance of head doctors like Lisa. He saw only the basic, immutable facts of the situation: Eddy Zero was a pathological murderer and the sooner they got him behind bars, the better.

And once that happened, Eddy could dream of his never-never lands until his dying day. And that’s all that really mattered to Fenn and as a cop, he could let nothing else cloud his judgment. He didn’t give a good goddamn what Eddy was doing with Spider’s things or with the cadavers. It had little bearing in his mind. The only thing that threw a very large, untidy wrench into his thinking was Gulliver and his insistence that he’d seen these Sisters. That would work out in time, he decided.

Lisa, however, was very much concerned with the peculiarities of this case. Given what Gulliver had said and Spider’s firm belief in the Sisters, she was slowly being pushed towards acceptance. She couldn’t pretend to understand much more than the basics of it, but she had a nasty, undeniable feeling that there was a very real dark truth behind it all. And the fact that Eddy had chanced taking those things from Spider’s flat and stealing his body only made her that much more certain that there was a bit more to Heaven and Earth than she’d ever dared guess. It all decayed her belief in reality and she didn’t like it one bit. William Zero had known and now his son did, as Spider had. Not that any of this really changed anything. Even if the three of them thought in their own delusive ways that murder was only the means to an end, it was still murder. And the three of them were still quite insane, in her opinion, regardless of their motives.

And what about Cherry?

She refused to consider that just yet. She only knew without reservation now that she was not interested in Eddy in anything but a professional manner, that he was no better than his father. Just another deranged monster. If Eddy had set out to become William Zero, apparently he had finally succeeded. Like father, like son. Another butcher with a sense of self-importance bearing the family name. Zero. That pretty much said it all.

And what of Fenn?

Did she love him? She wasn’t entirely sure one way or another. She only knew that for the time being he made her feel good, safe. And what else really mattered?

“Where do we go from here?” Lisa said. “As far as Eddy Zero goes.”

“Good question.”

“He has to be seen eventually.”

“Yeah, but we can’t wait that long. We have to bring him in. I don’t know how, but we have to.” He took even, slow drags from his smoke. “Out there, somewhere, he’s probably at it again and we can’t do a fucking thing to stop him.”

“Have you given any thought to stationing a man in the old house?”

Fenn nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t like the idea. I have uniforms patrolling by every few hours, but putting a man in there … I don’t know. Too many risks.” He sighed and butted his smoke. “Eventually, I might not have a choice, though. It might be our best bet but I hate to have to order anyone to do it.”

“What if you had a volunteer, Mr. Fenn?”

“Who? Who would …”

But then he knew. He saw it in her eyes and he wished the subject had never come up. Because it was a good idea and he hated it.

And he felt frightened way down deep.

Early the next morning, Fenn was over at San Francisco General in the psychiatric wing. Dr. Luce told him that Soames was no better or worse than on his last visit. Again, after some finagling, Fenn was allowed to see him.

“I want to know about Eddy Zero,” Fenn said.

“Then you want to know an awful lot, my friend.”

“Tell me.”

Soames’ eyes pinched closed. The lids were red and swollen as if he’d done a lot of crying. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“You don’t understand. The Doctor—”

“Zero is long gone, Soames,” Fenn said. “He can’t harm you now.”

“Maybe not. But there are others.”

“Who?”

Soames said nothing. A tear was rolling down his cheek.

Fenn had to proceed cautiously. If he upset the man too much, Luce would send him away and never let him back in. And Soames was a wealth of information. Fenn didn’t know this to be fact, it was just a feeling that Soames was somehow important in all this. The only man who held the key to the mystery of Eddy Zero and Lisa Lochmere and the rest of this God-awful mess. But how to get said key. That was the question.

“I need answers, Soames. I need to know what you know. You found out things during your investigation, didn’t you? I need to know what.”

“I lost my mind during that investigation. I don’t know what held it together before, but that was the final straw.”

“Tell me about Eddy Zero. What did you learn?”

“Nothing.”

“Did you tell Dr. Lochmere everything you found out?”

Soames was silent for some time. Then: “I won’t tell you. I can’t tell you. I’m a coward. Can’t you see that? You’ll have to find out on your own.”

Fenn sighed. “All right. Where do I start?”

Soames grinned madly, his eyes wide and shining. “You start with Cherry Hill,” he said and began to laugh.

He never stopped.

After Fenn left the hospital, he had a terrible headache. He went straight back to his apartment and collapsed on the bed. He had more questions now than before. It seemed that happened every time he spoke with Soames. Questions and more questions.

Cherry Hill?

Now who the fuck was she and how was she mixed up in this?

Fenn closed his eyes and sleep came fairly quickly. As always when his headaches struck, sleep was the only true cure.

Moments later, he began to dream.

Help me,
a voice was saying in the dream.

He didn’t know whose voice it was. It could’ve been his own. Everything was alien in this dark little place.

Another voice was talking.

Constant, endless.

Eyes were watching.

Who are you? Who are you? Who are you? Do you know who you are or where you are going? Answer me.

Fenn wanted to scream … but no, his mouth was open and he wasn’t screaming. He was crying. He was curled up in the fetal position, sucking his thumb and not knowing why.

Mommy, that voice
…

He heard a terrible wailing, a rushing sound. Was it the blood surging through his veins? It was so warm here now. Warm and wet and dark. He had everything he needed here. He was happy, content.

Sounds, voices.

Not the bad voice … or was it?

He felt himself being pushed down, down, being squeezed, manipulated by hot warmth.

Light, blinding light and fierce cold.

Metal instruments.

A cry of pain.

His own?

Drawn into the light, into the light …

So cold
…
mommy
…

He woke up screaming.

While Fenn was waking from his dream, Lisa was in the hotel lounge picking at a plate of pancakes. It was dim in there, not brightly washed by sunlight like the adjoining cafe. This was a place for drinking and brooding, but she was in no mood for bright lights.

There was only one other person in the lounge. A young, dark-complexioned woman dressed in a black business suit with matching skirt. Their eyes kept meeting from time to time and Lisa wondered if they’d known each other somewhere before. Finally, the woman came over.

“Would you mind if I sat down?” she asked. She had donned dark Wayfarer sunglasses now.

“Not at all. I could use the company.”

She sat. She was a tall woman, svelte, long-legged, very attractive.

“I’m not bothering you, am I?” she asked.

“Of course not.”

“This may sound terribly strange, but I have a feeling I know you from somewhere.”

Lisa looked startled. “I was just thinking that very thing. My name’s Lisa. Lisa Lochmere.”

“Cassandra.” She offered no more.

Lisa studied her. Did she know her from another place, another time? From school maybe? No, this Cassandra couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, which gave Lisa a good twelve years on her.

“I’m a psychiatrist,” Lisa said. “Maybe we’ve met in that function.”

“Christ, no,” Cassandra laughed.

“I didn’t mean to imply—”

“No apology necessary.”

“We were both probably mistaken.”

“Of course.” Something about her tone indicated she didn’t believe that for a moment. “Anyway, since we’re both in need of company, we’ll keep each other entertained. Shall we?”

“Why not?”

Cassandra cleared her throat. “So what brings the eminent psychiatrist Dr. Lochmere to the city by the bay?”

“Business, I’m afraid. Nothing but business.”

“That’s a shame. What sort of business? Or am I being too nosy?”

“No, not at all. I’m seeking out a patient of mine. A former patient. I’m afraid he might do something … unpleasant.”

“That’s fascinating. Does he have a name?”

Lisa thought about it. What was the point of bothering with patient confidentiality? Maybe she would know something. “Eddy Zero. He was under my care some years ago and then released before I thought he was sufficiently rehabilitated.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Wow. What an interesting job it must be being a psychiatrist. Always something new, I’d bet. You must’ve had to study a long time, I imagine.”

Lisa nodded. “Pre-med, med school, internship … it takes years.”

“It wouldn’t be interesting for me, though. Spending all those years in institutions. It would drive me crazy. If you’ll excuse that word.”

Lisa smiled.
You have no idea, my dear.
“And what about you?”

Cassandra laughed again at her own expense, as if her life was a great comedy she was playing out. Maybe it was. But there was tragedy here, too, a dark and glaring hurt just beneath the words. Lisa liked her immediately. It took a great person to laugh at their misfortune. So many live lives of pain and so few have the ability to laugh rather than cry.

It was an endearing quality.

“My life is beyond words,” Cassandra said. “I wouldn’t even know where to start. Let’s just say I’ve had my share of hurts and heartbreaks. But I’ve never let it keep me down. I always get back up and start again. It’s my philosophy, you might say: Never give in, never give up. I’ve risen up against odds that would’ve buried others.”

“I don’t doubt it a bit,” Lisa said.

“And that’s what it’s about, right? Never give up the ghost until you’ve done all that has to be done.”

Lisa smiled. She was so easy to like. So terribly easy, almost like they had been friends before. “What about now?” she asked. “Do you live here or are you visiting?”

“Visiting. I’m at a stage in my life where I don’t have to work for a living any longer.”

“I envy you.”

“I envy myself.”

They both started laughing. Cassandra excused herself and went to the ladies room. Someone walked up behind Lisa and she knew it was Fenn before she turned.

“I’d really like to talk you out of this,” he said, sitting down. “It’s too dangerous.”

She just looked at him. Even though she knew what he was talking about, his habit of resuming conversations hours or even days old was somewhat irritating.

She sighed. “It has to be done and you know it.”

“Sure I know it. I just don’t want it to be you alone in that fucking house.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, you’re pretty tough, I guess.”

“Somebody has to do it, Mr. Fenn. And who better?”

There was no one better suited and he knew it. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. Who was that you were talking with?”

Lisa grinned. “I honestly have no idea.”

“I want to ask you about something,” Fenn said. “I’ve been keeping something from you, I guess. I’m not sure why.”

“Tell me.”

“That P.I. you hired a few years ago to track Eddy—”

“Soames.”

“I did some checking on him. He’s in the psychiatric wing of San Fran General. Did you know that?”

Lisa shook her head. “No. I’m sorry to hear that. He was good at his job. He found Eddy, gave me addresses he was staying at. Very thorough. Then, one day, he called me, said he was onto something big.”

“And?”

“And zilch. He never called again. I hounded him for months. He never would tell me what he found. He even returned the retainer. Go figure.”

Fenn looked suspicious. “I’ve been to see him a few times. He’s in a bad way.”

“Is he?”

Fenn told her everything Dr. Luce had told him.

“He’s a mystery, all right,” Lisa said. “What do you make of it?”

Fenn shrugged. “Did you know he helped stop William Zero in the first place?”

“Yes. That’s why he was my first choice. He’s the source of most of our information concerning Zero and the others. Without him, most of it would be guesswork.”

“He’s delirious, paranoid as hell. Talks in riddles. I couldn’t get much out of him.” Fenn was drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “Have you ever heard of someone called Cherry Hill?”