The Dark Stairs R/I (3 page)

She went out the front door quickly and then sank down on the top step.

Meat stuck his head around the corner of the house. “Herculeah!”

She turned in his direction.

“What did you find out?”

“Nothing.”

“You had to have found out something. You were in there forever.”

“All I know is what you told me. He does look creepy, and he does have burning eyes and his breath smells like”—she gave a shudder—“like million-year-old air. But you didn't tell me he was a giant!”

“I thought I did. Anyway, come over here.” Meat beckoned.

“What for?”

“I can hear some of what they're saying. I think I actually heard the word ...” He trailed off as if reluctant to say the word.

“Meat, I don't have to eavesdrop on my mom. My mom will tell me what they said. My mom is very open about things. She's actually taken me with her on stakeouts.”

She brushed off her jeans. “Anyway, Meat, I saw your face in the window and so did he.”

“I saw him see me.”

“Yeah, but you didn't see him reach under his coat like this”—she slid her hand across her stomach—“as if he were reaching for a gun.”

Meat gasped.

“Plus he said, ‘Your friend shouldn't be looking in other people's windows. He could get, let us say, arrested for things like that.'”

Meat drew in his breath.

“Plus he said, ‘While you're at it, tell him not to spy out his window.'”

Meat drew in another ragged breath. He did not want to hear any more pluses, but he had to ask, “He saw me then, too? I wasn't sure. I didn't want him to see me.”

“Yes, and you didn't let me finish. It gets worse. He said, ‘Some people take offense at being spied on. They don't like to be offended. It makes them, let us say—'”

“Let us say what?”

“I don't know. My mom interrupted him. But the Moloch is—”

Meat said quickly, “What is his name?”

“Moloch. It's not his name. It's what he is.”

“What is a Moloch? I've never heard of such a thing.”

“I don't know exactly. I tried to find the word once in the dictionary, but it wasn't there. I think it's a creature, some sort of unspeakable monstroid, maybe from olden times. It was in a Hercules movie.”

“Unspeakable monstroid describes him all right.” Meat nodded his head at Herculeah's house. “I wish he hadn't seen me.”

“I do too, Meat.”

“He's the kind of person that you don't even want to know you exist.”

“I agree,” said Herculeah.

“If you want to keep on existing.”

“I didn't want to tell you this,” Meat said as he sat down beside Herculeah on the steps.

“What?”

“Remember I said that I could hear some of what they were saying?”

“Yes. What did you hear?”

“I think I heard ‘murder.'”

“Murder! My mother does not investigate murder! The police do that. Be real.”

“Maybe this wasn't a modern murder—maybe it was something that happened in the past. All I know is the word 'murder' was mentioned.”

Meat paused. In the silence that followed, he said, “What if we went in the back door very quietly and stood by the kitchen door—”

“Forget it.”

“In my house, you can hear things through the heat vents. That's how I found out my mom was not taking me to see
Terminator
2, but to the dentist. If we could find the right heat duct ...”

“No.” Herculeah sighed. “This should have been a really happy day for me. I was getting the binocs and the eyeglasses that really make me think better, but for some reason I can't enjoy it. I have an uneasy feeling.”

“Me too. The Moloch knows me.”

“It's not just because of the Moloch. While I was standing in front of Dead Oaks, my hair began to frizzle, and that always means I'm in danger. Only I don't know why. And when I don't know the reason for something, I'm drawn to it. I have to know.” She leaned forward. “I wish I could get inside that gate.”

“I know how to get in,” Meat said.

Herculeah turned to him. “How?”

“Well, one time—this was HaIIoween—some of us wanted to toilet paper those dead trees, and I said, ‘There's no way to get in,' and Howie said, ‘Follow me,' and we went around back—I didn't want to go because even in the daytime that house gives me the creeps, and here it was night. But I followed along with the rest of them. There were four of us, me and—” Meat broke off. “I hear him. He's coming! He's coming!” he said. “Let's hide.”

“Don't be silly. I'm not hiding. This is my house.”

“Well, I don't want him to see me.”

Meat got up quickly and ran to the side of the house. He paused to say, “If he asks, say you haven't seen me.” And he disappeared from sight.

Herculeah heard the door open behind her. She took a deep breath and got to her feet.

The Moloch came out the door, pulling his hat lower on his forehead. Herculeah stepped back against the railing to make room for him to pass. She deliberately kept her eyes on him.

She waited, expecting him to say something, dreading the smell of his two-million-year-old breath, but he went by as if she didn't exist.

At the bottom of the steps, he glanced both ways and then started toward Antique Row. Meat's face appeared around the corner of the house. The Moloch paused and looked directly at Meat.

Meat gasped. Then he said quickly, “I'm looking for my dog. You haven't seen a dog, have you?”

The Moloch didn't answer.

“It's brown with a little white spot right there.” Meat touched his forehead with fingers that trembled.

“Well, thanks for your time,” Meat said. “Sorry to have bothered you.” He disappeared back behind the house.

Herculeah hesitated a moment and then she ran up the steps and into the house.

Her mother was still sitting at her desk. The letter opener was clenched in her hand.

The cat, Bosco, came into the living room and jumped up on the sofa. The cat was usually curious about clients, but apparently Bosco had not liked the Moloch any more than Herculeah and Meat did.

“I can still smell him,” Herculeah said, drawing in a breath. “Ugh! What a gross man.”

“He's not that terrible.”

“Huh! You know who I thought about when I saw him?”

“Who?”

“The Moloch!”

“Who?” Her mother looked blank, as if she had been expecting another answer.

“The Moloch. The Moloch! Don't tell me you've forgotten. You know that awful creature that Hercules had to fight?”

Her mother's shoulders seemed to relax. She smiled. “Oh, that Moloch.”

“Yes.
Hercules vs the Moloch.
It was because of that movie that I got my name. How could you forget?”

“I have a lot on my mind right now, Herculeah.”

“Well, so do I.”

Herculeah sat down on the sofa and took Bosco on her lap. “Mom, as soon as that man turned around and looked at me, I thought, He's the Moloch, because he had this unspeakable monstroid look—well, you saw it. I don't have to describe it to you.” She leaned forward eagerly. “So?”

“So what?” her mother asked.

“So what did he want?”

“It doesn't concern you, Herculeah.”

Herculeah couldn't believe her ears. “What?”

“It doesn't concern you.”

“Of course it concerns me. The man was in my house. He made threats against my friend—”

“The less you know about this, the better.”

“Mom! Meat wanted to come in and listen through the heat vents. I said, ‘No.' I said that you were very open with me. I said that was one of the best things about you. I said I didn't have to eavesdrop like other kids because you would tell me anything I wanted to know.”

Her mother smiled a tired smile. “Well,” she said with a shrug, “this time you were wrong.”

“You're not going to tell me?”

“That's right.”

“But, Mom, maybe I could help you.”

“That's exactly what I'm afraid of.”

“Mom, I really helped on your last case. I was the stakeout at the mall. If I had not been at the mall, you would never have located the Ryans' daughter. And—”

“This is a different kind of thing. I don't want you involved.”

“I do not believe this. You know what you're teaching me to do, don't you? Eavesdrop.”

Mrs. Jones braced herself on the desk and stood. She glanced down and brushed some lint from her black pantsuit.

“You and Dad are teaching me to be a sneak. First he won't tell me what's going on at Dead Oaks and now you—”

“What about Dead Oaks?”

“Dad was there this afternoon.”

“What was he doing?”

“How would I know? Nobody tells me anything.”

Herculeah's mother started into the hall. The cat, alerted by the activity, jumped down from Herculeah's lap. Herculeah got up and followed her mother. She changed her tactics. “Well, can I ask you one question?”

“You can ask.”

“When you file this case in your filing cabinet, will you file it under M—for murder?”

Herculeah watched in silence as her mother shrugged into her coat and picked up her briefcase. Her mother didn't answer.

“And is it also a big secret where you're going?”

“I'm going to the police station. I need to check on something.”

“What?”

“Oh, here. Here's some money, Herculeah. What were you going to get? Oh, binoculars. And didn't you say something about eyeglasses?”

She reached into her purse and brought out her wallet. She handed Herculeah a ten-dollar bill. Then, after a moment's thought, she added another ten.

“This is bribery,” Herculeah said, eyeing the money. “You're just doing this to get rid of me.”

“I'm doing this because I want you to have the binoculars and whatever else you mentioned.”

Herculeah didn't take the money, and her mother, smiling a little, reached out and tucked the bills into the pocket of Herculeah's jeans.

Her mother went out the door, and Herculeah followed her onto the sidewalk. Meat came around the side of the house with his hand over his heart.

“He saw me,” he told Herculeah. Then to her mother, “Mrs. Jones, that guy saw me.”

“I wouldn't worry about him,” Herculeah's mom said as she unlocked the car. “He's got more important things on his mind.”

“I said that I was looking for my dog, but I don't think he believed me.”

Her mother turned. “Get your own supper, Herculeah. I might be late.”

She drove off, and Herculeah and Meat stood watching the car until it disappeared.

“Who is he? Did you find out?”

“She wouldn't tell me. She gave me this.” Herculeah pulled out the twenty dollars. “It was like hush money—money to shut me up.”

Meat regarded the money. “So, what are you going to do?”

“I guess I'll go get the stupid binoculars and glasses,” she said.

“I thought you wanted them?”

“I did. Oh, I guess I do. But it bugs me when my mom won't tell me things, because if she won't tell me, then it's something I really want to know.”

“I'll walk to the store with you if that's all right,” Meat said. “I don't want to be alone just now.”

“Come on.”

“If we see the Moloch, though, I'm splitting.”

Herculeah and Meat walked side by side toward Antique Row. Herculeah was silent, bent forward, her hands stuffed in her pockets. Meat was the one to speak first.

“I get the feeling I've seen that man before.”

“The Moloch?”

“Yes.”

“You would have remembered.”

“If I'd seen him in person, yes. But maybe I saw him on a television show.”

“Animal Kingdom?”
Herculeah asked.

Meat smiled. “Actually I was thinking of
Most Wanted
—you know, where they show pictures of criminals. If all I saw was his face, I might not have been so—well, horrified.”

“Here. This is the shop.” She turned in and Meat followed.

“I'm back,” she said to the clerk.

“Well, that was quick. I haven't even had time to put your glasses and binoculars away. They're right here.”

“Can I borrow the binoculars?” Meat asked Herculeah.

“Sure.”

As Herculeah paid the clerk, Meat moved to the front of the store. He lifted the binoculars to his face. He adjusted the lenses until Dead Oaks came into focus. He felt a shiver of dread.

“See anything?”

“I don't know.” Meat refocused the binoculars. “There was something in the upstairs window, but it's gone now.”

“What? A face? A ...” She couldn't think of anything else. “A what?”

“I don't know. More like a shadow. Maybe I imagined it. Anyway, it's gone now.”

Herculeah and Meat went outside the store and stood for a moment under the awning.

“I think it's time for me to try my glasses. I don't know whether I told you or not, but these glasses help me think.”

“Think?”