The Haunting of Anna McAlister (24 page)

Anna sat down on the bed next to Phillipe. She took his hand in her own.

“The worst part of all,” Phillipe continued. “Was that the report on the radio said that she was de . . . how do you say it?” Phillipe tried to find the right word in English.
 

“Deccap . . . you know with the head.”

“Decapitated?”
 

“
Oui
, decapitated.”

Phillipe stopped talking but Anna knew he still had more to say. “Go on.”

“They also said that her head and fingers are still missing.”

Anna felt her stomach turn.

“There is one more thing,” Phillipe said. “A reporter at the apartment said that the name Ariene had been written on a wall in blood.”

As cold hearted as it made Anna feel, part of her had hoped that somehow Madame Lapautre had fallen victim to some random act of violence. Obviously that was not the case.

“It’s my fault,” Anna s started to cry. “It’s all my fault.”

“No, you must not say such a thing.” Phillipe put his arm around her shoulder. “It is not your fault. It simply is what happened.”

“Yeah, and if I had stayed home where I belong she would still be alive. If I hadn’t bought those damn boxes Duncan would be alive, and Jeffrey and I would be at work bitching about Tony’s back scratching or lunch orders.”

Anna broke down and started to sob. She put her head on Phillipe’s shoulder. He held her with both arms.

“Well isn’t this a pretty little picture,” Tom stood in the still open doorway. “I hope you two slept well.”

“Oh Tom,” Anna broke away from Phillipe who tried for a moment to hold her in place. She ran to Tom and pulled him close. “Where were you? Where did you go?”

She was crying uncontrollably.
 

“Phillipe just got here. He says Madam Lapautre was murdered last night. Hold me, Tom. Please, hold me.”

Tom’s arms had stayed at his side. Now he lifted them up and held Anna tightly to his body.
 

After several minutes Anna stopped trembling. “Where have you been, Tom? Why did you go?”

Anna pulled away and looked at him. His clothes were disheveled and wrinkled. He had dark circles under his eyes, his hair was uncombed and he looked exhausted. She saw that his clothing was stained with blood.
 

“What happened to your clothes?”

“That was from when I cut my hand on the mirror, remember?”

Anna looked at Tom’s knuckles. The cuts were deep, but still it was a lot of blood.
 

“I’m sorry to have been gone all night,” Tom said. He quickly glanced at Phillipe and then looked back at Anna. “I just got scared when I got so angry. I could feel it happening again, Anna. You know, like earlier.”

“What happened earlier?” Phillipe asked.

Tom kept his eyes on Anna and continued as if the question had not been asked and the person asking it did not exist. “I was so worried about you,” he said.

“You were so worried that you just left? Left me alone?”

“Anna, I felt I had too. I didn’t know what would have happened if I had stayed.”

“Where did you go?”

Tom shrugged his shoulders. “I just sort of walked around for a long time. I was by the river. Then I walked to that big white church way up on a hill.”

“
Sacre-Coeur.
” Phillipe said.

“Then I just ended up back here at the hotel somewhere around five. No one was around downstairs so I dozed off on a couch in the lobby. Then a few minutes ago the concierge woke me up and suggested that I find my room. I saw it was getting light out so I figured it was safe to come back up.”

“Did anything happen to you while you were walking?” Anna asked.

“No, not really.” Tom said. “I must have walked through half of Paris. It’s different in the night. I liked it.”

“Did you happen to walk by Madam Lapautre’s?” Phillipe asked.

“No. Why?”

“And you’re okay?” Anna was still worried.

“I have a couple of very sore feet, but that’s about it. Why all the questions, Anna? And, why is he here.” Tom gestured toward Phillipe without looking at him.

“As I said, Phillipe just got here with the news about Madam Lapautre.” Anna felt tears welling up. She wasn’t sure exactly why she was crying. It seemed like more than a simple outpouring of emotion. Anna realized that along with feeling guilty and afraid, she was also deeply saddened by the death, as if she had lost a member of her own family.

“Tell me what happened?” Tom asked

“Phillipe, please tell him the rest,” Anna ran to the bathroom and turned on the sink to avoid again hearing the details. She washed her hands several times and brushed her teeth twice. When she finally left the bathroom she found both men sitting in absolute silence. Phillipe was still on the bed while Tom had taken the chair by the desk. Both were staring off in opposite directions until they both looked at her.
 

“I can’t believe it,” Tom said, the shock clearly evident in his voice. “I can’t believe someone could do that to that nice old woman. It’s such a coincidence that it happened last night, right after we were just there.”

“Tom,” Anna said sharply. “You can’t really believe that it was just some weird coincidence.
 

Tom thought about it for a moment before saying, “I’d like to. But, you’re right, I guess I can’t.”

“We have to go back to that apartment. . I have to see . . . I have to feel what happened.”

Phillipe rose to his feet. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

“I think it’s a very bad idea,” Tom also stood up. “There are going to be police all over the place and . . .”

“I’m going,” Anna ended the discussion.
 

“I’ll go with you,” Phillipe moved toward the door.

Anna looked at Tom.
 

“What choice do I have?” he asked

“You have a choice, but I really need you to come with us. ” Anna said.

“Okay,” Tom said. “Then give me a couple of minutes to change and then let’s do it.”

Phillipe didn’t move.
 

“Ah, excuse me,” Tom stood up and walked toward the bed. He gestured toward the door. “Would you mind?”

Phillipe quickly got up, “Sorry, I was just lost in thought. I’ll wait in the hallway.”

“Thank you.” Tom’s words were more filled with venom than gratitude.

* * *

Ten minutes later, when Anna led the way off of the elevator, she saw a commotion in the lobby. There were at least a dozen people watching as paramedics carried a stretcher out the door. The body on it was covered completely by a sheet.

Phillipe walked over and spoke to one of the hotel workers. When he returned he put his hand on the small of Anna’s back and directed her gently forward toward a side exit. He motioned with his hand for Tom to follow.
 

When they got to the street, Anna turned and asked, “What happened?”

“The bellhop told me that there had been an accident. He said a woman had fallen down a back stairway and broken her neck.”

“Who was it?”
 

“All he said was that it was the crazy lady from the fifth floor. He

said he was new to the hotel, but had heard rumors that she was insane. He said she must have stumbled.”

“Yeah right,” Anna whispered. “Stumbled.”

Phillipe didn’t hear Anna’s words, he was too busy hailing a cab. Anna looked at Tom, who looked away.

* * *

The cab pulled up as close to 15 Rue Desera as it could. Still, Anna Tom and Phillipe had to walk over half a block just to get near the apartment building. The street was jammed with police cars, television vans and gawkers from around the globe.

Anna pushed through the crowd, with Tom and Phillipe following in the path she cleared. Finally they made it close to the building entrance where they were stopped by two very large police officers carrying what looked like small machine guns.
 

“
Halte
!” The officer held up his hand.
 

“Please let us through,” Anna said.
 

“This is a crime scene. No one is permitted,” the other officer said in English.

“You don’t understand,” Anna said. “We visited Madam Lapautre yesterday. We might be able to help.”

“How could you help?”

Phillipe moved up next to Anna and said something in French to the officers. They both looked at Tom and then back at Anna.
 

“Fine,” one said as they stepped aside. “Report directly to Inspector Cerone. He is in charge of the investigation.”

“
Merci
,” Anna said.
 

The officers watched closely as the three walked quickly into the building. Once inside, they were stopped again.
 

“We were told to see Inspector Cerone,” Anna said.
 

“Very well,” the officer said. “He is in the apartment. However, you might not want to see what is inside.”

Anna didn’t hear the end of the officer’s warning. She walked quickly toward the open apartment door. As she approached, Anna could see police officers, some in uniform, some not, moving around inside. Most wore plastic gloves and surgical masks. They were all extremely busy and at first no one noticed when Anna and the men stepped inside.
 

The horror before them was so great that they couldn’t even scream. They saw the name Ariene smeared in two foot red letters across the wall they were facing. A large deep pool of blood was slowly drying on the fine Persian rug that Anna had admired and touched the day before. Where her hand had been she could see small islands of bone. Blood was splattered everywhere, as if it had been intentionally flung around the room. The droplets covered the couch, lamps, paintings and even the ceiling.

Tom touched Anna’s shoulder, “Look over there.” He pointed toward a small table across the room. It was the table that yesterday held the small silver box containing the photographs. Today, it held a single blood stained music box. A black music box with a red rose.
 

The box was open, but silent, as if its song had been allowed to play out. Anna could hear the melody in her mind. She knew it was the last thing Madam Lapautre had heard before she died.

Chapter 23

“What are you doing here?” The police inspector had to ask the question three times before Anna responded.

“I’m sorry,” Anna finally said, looking away from the blood. “We were told to see Inspector Cerone.”

“
Tres bien
,” the man said. “So now that you have seen him, what of it?”

Inspector Cerone held his arms out like a school crossing guard and moved the three back into the hallway. “Didn’t anyone stop you from coming in here?”

“Yes,” Anna said. “But you see, we were just here, yesterday. We met with Madam Lapautre in that very room.” Anna pointed back toward the apartment.
 

“Do you have information that might help?”

“Yes, I mean no, I mean I don’t know. Maybe.”

“If that is as definitive as you can get, I don’t think it will help very much.”

“Perhaps I could be of assistance,” Phillipe stepped forward. “If I could have a word with you in private, Inspector. I think I can explain.”

The inspector nodded. He and Phillipe started walking down the hall. Phillipe spoke in French as they walked.

“Now what’s he up to?” Tom whispered.

“Shh,” Anna said. “He’s only trying to help.”

“Help who?”
 

Phillipe and Inspector Cerone suddenly stopped and turned around. They quickly walked back to Anna and Tom.

“I believe we should talk, after all,” Inspector Cerone looked at the Americans and smiled. “You first, please.” He pointed at Tom.
 

“Me?”

“But I’m the one you should be talking to,” Anna said.
 

“In due course, Mademoiselle. In due course. Please Monsieur, this way. Follow me, and do not touch anything.”

The inspector led Tom into the apartment. They walked carefully along the edges of the room until they reached a doorway to an adjacent room.

“In here, please,” Inspector Cerone said.

Before following, the inspector snapped his fingers in the direction of two uniformed officers, who instantly jumped to attention. He pointed toward Anna and Phillipe. The officers nodded and walked immediately to the front entrance. Inspector Cerone followed Tom into the room.
 

A half hour later, Inspector Cerone walked back out and closed the door behind him.
 

“Where’s Tom,” Anna asked as he approached.

“He’s being detained.”

“On what charge?” Anna demanded.

“Stop acting so . . . American,” Inspector Cerone said. “We simply have additional questions that need to be asked. Now, I need to ask some of them to you.”