The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 11 Page 8

  “Follow me. I want to avoid as many people as possible on the way to the cells. We’ll put her in an interview room for you.”

  Mrs Wright was serene, a slight smile playing across her face. Locan thought the forty-something minister’s wife was attractive enough to draw a man’s attention without the help of her husband and a fistful of twenties, but teenagers? Her attire was sensible, even demure, but her figure indicated she took care of herself. Locan put himself in a teenager’s mind. Mrs Wright looked like the average high-school teacher. Then maybe, if a guy was paying you and your hormones were raging, why not screw your teacher?

  Locan sat directly across the table from the woman; as Rachel sat off to the left, so Mrs Wright would have to turn her head to talk to each of them.

  “Hello, Adeline, do you think we could have a little chat?”

  Mrs Wright’s smile widened and her eyes slid to her left.

  “She’s pretty,” the woman said. “I could lick her pussy for you. Make her scream when she came. Want to hold her down?”

  “Um, no thanks, dear, we just . . .”

  “I’ll suck your cock; get you all hard. Fuck her in the ass; I’ll hold her head between my thighs while you rape her asshole.” Mrs Wright licked her lip and grinned.

  Locan reached over the table and took hold of Mrs Wright’s hands. “Look at me, Adeline, right here.”

  He briefly let go of one hand and with two fingers indicated she look straight into his eyes.

  The woman’s lasciviously childish demeanour faded as quickly as a shadow crossed her face.

  “What’s going on in there, Adeline? Who’s telling you to say such things? Look at me; it’s OK, it’s not your fault, dear. Someone put some nasty ideas in your brain. What happened?”

  The woman’s chin trembled; her eyes filled and spilled over in an instant. He could see the wail building from a deep dark place in the back of her mind; he braced for it.

  The woman’s sob when it surfaced made Rachel flinch. She wanted to talk, wanted to tell him, but the spasms of remorse were just too much to control at that moment.

  “Tov-tove-tove . . . mum-ma-made me . . .”

  Locan glanced at Rachel who hurried to hold the woman as her sobs broke upon each other like waves crashing on a rock. He stood and left the interview room. Lt DiLeo and Mullens had been watching through a one-way window.

  “That woman is in a state of deep hypnosis. She’s coming out of it now, but we’re going to need a shrink to stand by.”

  “Hypnosis?” DiLeo said. “I didn’t think anyone could hypnotize you to do anything against your will.”

  “That’s not quite true. Everyone has dark little what-ifs floating around in their heads. A skilled hypnotist can zero in on them and pretty much suggest a ‘for instance’. Like, ‘Mrs Wright, say for instance you thought once or twice what it would be like to be an insatiable nymphomaniac slut with a liking for young men?’ ”

  Locan looked towards the room holding Revd Wright. “Or maybe he said to the reverend, ‘How can a man have sex with another man, have you ever tried to imagine what it’s like to suck another man’s cock?’ The truth is, of course he can imagine, everyone makes themself imagine such things, even fleetingly. Is there a guy alive who hasn’t wondered what it’s like to be a girl?”

  Locan stepped past them into the other interview room.

  Wright stood and looked at him up and down. “Wow, you’re a big one. Bet you have a big dick too. I’ll let you fuck my wife’s big ass if you let me suck it first.”

  Locan said nothing, but slammed his open hand into the side of the reverend’s face. Before he could fall, Locan took him by his lapels and lifted him up level with his eyes.

  “Wright! Snap out of it. Look at me. Come out of there!”

  Locan watched the panic build behind Wright’s eyes.

  “Oh, dear lord Jesus! My wife . . . Adeline! No-no-no! I’m sorry . . . I’m so sorry!”

  “Hang in there, Wright. You didn’t do anything.”

  “I . . . I sold my wife like . . . like she was . . .”

  “Tell me about Tovan.”

  “Tovan? Tovan! That . . . that . . . that . . .”

  “Fucking?”

  “Fucking bastard!”

  Locan chuckled. “Now you’re talking, Rev.”

  “That poor woman cried for a straight hour. I thought she was going to have a heart attack, she cried so hard.”

  Locan, DiLeo and Mullens nodded with no comment as Rachel recounted her efforts to interview Mrs Wright before she and her husband were transported to a psychiatric hospital in Boston.

  “I couldn’t get a lot out of her in the state she was in,” Rachel continued. “I got that Tovan has a gang of lackeys, young guys, and that they think he’s some kind of magic man, a regular rock star.”

  “Why not?” Locan said. “The guy can literally charm women out of their clothes. It’s every adolescent’s fantasy: hypnotize girls into having sex with you. No fear of rejection.”

  “I never heard of a hypnotist who could do that,” Rachel said.

  “Neither did I,” DiLeo said, “but I caught a show at one of the Route One comedy clubs with an ‘R-rated hypnotist’. I saw one show where they had a group of people thinking they were having sex; I figured they were just faking or maybe they were weak-minded. Then one girl – she looked like the shyest of the lot – got on the floor on her knees, lifted her behind up, and you’d swear she was taking it up the . . . um.”

  “I get the idea,” Rachel nodded, suppressing a grin.

  “I saw a show in Vegas once,” Mullens added. “This guy really did get people to take off their clothes and think it was the most normal thing in the world. I think he could have gotten them to have sex on stage, but that would have been pushing the legal limits even for Vegas.”

  DiLeo’s phone rang. “Yeah. Aw, shit. Stall him . . . Shit!”

  “Problem, Lieutenant?” Locan inquired.

  “We have an assistant DA on his way up here. Talbot. Very ambitious, he’s looking to make his bones prosecuting the rev. and his wife. Hell, those people didn’t know what they were doing, did they?”

  “Yes, they did, but they couldn’t do anything about it. Not to worry, I’ll handle this . . . Talbot?”

  Before DiLeo could answer, ADA Talbot barged into the office without knocking.

  “All right, Lieutenant, just tell me you Mirandized those perverts so there’s no surprises when I prosecute their twisted asses.”

  “Mr Talbot.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Sumner Osgood.”

  “Are you friends of these . . . people?”

  “Just an interested party.”

  “Suppose you take your party the hell out of here.”

  “You’re very rude, Mr Talbot.”

  The ADA hooked his thumbs into his waistband and puffed out his chest.

  “Your boss, the district attorney, he’s very involved in the Catholic League, Knights of Columbus. He’s about to receive a very prestigious decoration from the Holy See, means a lot to him. I understand he’s going to Rome to receive it from His Holiness himself.”

  “What’s that go to do with . . . ?”

  “No grand jury, no indictment, no charges against the Wrights.”

  “What? Are you kidding . . . ?”

  “Try it and your boss will be left standing in St Peter’s Square in his silly knight’s get-up with both his hands up his ass, because no one at the Holy See will even know who he is. And he will be told who is responsible.”

  “But . . . who . . . ?”

  “Dominus vobiscum, Talbot. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

  After the door closed, Locan lowered his voice. “Wright told me Tovan had put the whammy on some young kids, teenagers. I’m not sure what his fixation on young teens is other than rewarding his toadies with underage quail. I’d like to find out what went on between him and that girl at the theological school.”<
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  “She’s being interviewed right now by our guys in the Minneapolis field office.”

  “Let me know what you find out. In the meantime – Don – your guys will have to keep their eyes out for any lascivious behaviour out of the norm.”

  “Out of the norm? Locan, this is Salem; we’re right at the windup to Haunted Happenings. We see all kinds of crazy shit out there. Every year, I swear, the city pays to put up billboards all over the country advertising ‘Free Proctology’, because every crazy asshole in America shows up here, including plenty from overseas.”

  “Nonetheless, Don, you’re likely to come across folks who’ve been hypnotized like the Wrights, but especially keep an eye out for younger kids acting like sex-crazed demons.”

  “Let’s just nail this guy Tovan,” DiLeo insisted.

  “Listen guys, we’ve got nothing on Tovan.”

  “What do you mean?” DiLeo said, shaking his head.

  “What are you going to charge him with: felony hypnosis? There’s no such thing. Maybe, just maybe facilitating the endangerment of minors, but it’d be damned hard to prove, even for Talbot. I can tell you this: this guy’s got it into his head that he can summon Lovecraft’s übermonsters.”

  “That’s fiction,” DiLeo insisted.

  “No shit. You wouldn’t believe how many fools on this planet believe it’s all real, the granddaddy of all urban legends. Anyway, I think this guy is going to try to bring them to earth with some ritual, probably on Halloween. Most likely in one of the city’s graveyards.”

  “Which one?” DiLeo asked. “I’ll have them staked out.”

  “No, Don, we can’t have anyone near them except whoever Tovan expects to be there, like his toadies and maybe a bunch of mesmerized teenagers for whatever reason. Besides, your guys’ll have their hands full that night. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Mullens, you need to contact Professor Helen Girolf; she’s at Harvard Medical. Mention the Palatinae; she’ll be more than glad to help. Have her set up at the local medical centre. Don, have your guys pick up any kids, or anyone, who acts like they’re in heat. Bring them straight to Girolf.”

  “Maybe we should alert the public that someone’s been hypnotizing tourists,” DiLeo suggested.

  “Who the fuck is going to believe that, Don? It sounds like a Halloween joke. No, you’re going to put out an alert that someone’s been dropping acid on unsuspecting people. In fact, that’ll be our story for the Wrights. Anyone can believe someone was slipped a drug.”

  “The mayor and the Chamber of Commerce are gonna be pissed,” DiLeo sighed. “Shit, one more night to Halloween.”

  “God, it’s like Mardi Gras, only chillier,” Rachel said as she and Locan weaved through the throngs of people, most of them costumed or sporting face and body paint.

  “Look at the cleavage on that witch,” Locan said, pointing.

  “Padding,” Rachel insisted.

  “What a mob. Everything is happening on a weekend too. It’ll be nuts. Trying to find that freak in this sea of souls would be tough anyway. We’ll nail him tomorrow night. Want a drink?”

  “No, but speaking of nailing someone, how about we go home and you nail me.”

  “Have I ever mentioned to you how much I admire small breasts?”

  “Shut up.”

  He lifted her off her feet and kissed her amidst the swirl of humanity. Blue lightning crackled around her head. They heard someone say, “Cool, did you see that?”

  “Ooops!” they said.

  Locan put her down and they made their way as best they could through the crowd.

  A man greeted them at the door of the B&B.

  “Hello, Jake Sprague, Jeanie’s father.”

  They shook his hand.

  “Sorry I’ve been so scarce.”

  “That’s OK,” Locan assured him. “Jeanie told us about your wife.”

  “She’ll be home Monday. Poor Jeanie, she’s been terrific helping out. I gave her a break, let her go out with her friends tonight, but I’m getting kind of worried. I asked her to get home by ten and it’s nearly eleven.”

  “She’s probably having too much fun,” Rachel said. “I can remember being her age. She’s a sweet girl.”

  “I know; she’s never given me any grief. But I still worry; hell, some nut’s been dropping LSD in people’s drinks downtown. They think that’s what happened to that poor couple, the minister and his wife.”

  “You don’t say,” Locan said, shaking his head.

  “Yeah, cops just put it out over the radio, and they dropped off a bunch of leaflets. I’ll give you one.”

  “We can grab it on the way in,” Rachel said. “We’re really tired, been doing the tourist thing all day, you know.”

  “Sure, well, have a good night. Glad I finally met you folks. Jeanie is quite taken with you.”

  “She’s a terrific kid,” Locan nodded.

  Once inside, Rachel snagged a bright orange leaflet from the desk. “Wow, it didn’t take long for DiLeo to get the word out.”

  “Good, people might be a bit more circumspect about who they chat with.”

  “You know,” Rachel whispered. “I’m naked under all these clothes.”

  She grabbed his hand and towed him up the stairs. They tumbled through the door and Locan hooked his thumbs into her jeans and began to tug them off her hips.

  “Whoa, you’re gonna rip them. Hey . . . what’s wrong?”

  Locan’s hands had frozen. He turned Rachel around to face the bed. Jeanie sat right on the pillows, her back against the wall.

  “Jeanie,” Rachel said. “What are you doing here? Your father—”

  “I listened to you last night, I heard you . . . fucking.” The girl licked her upper lip and giggled.

  “Jeanie?” Locan inched closer to the girl.

  “Let me come to bed with you . . . puhleeeeze. I’ll be good. I can suck pussy and cock. Make me your dirty little whore, oh, pretty-pretty-please?”

  “That fuck!” Locan spat.

  “Please, Mr Osgood, be my first. I got a juicy cherry just for you. You can fuck me while I suck out her cunt.”

  “That wouldn’t be a good idea, hon.”

  She pouted, “Then I guess it’ll have to be my dad. The dark one wants me soiled.”

  “Who, Jeanie?”

  “Cthulhu of course, when he brings him to earth. We’ll be his first meal. Can you imagine what a come that is, to be devoured by Shub-Niggurath?”

  “Oh, sure, old Shub, used to have him over for dinner all the time. And when is this supposed to happen, honey?”

  “I’ll tell you if you let me lick your dick.”

  “No . . . tell first.”

  “Okay . . . promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “Well, of course on the feast day, silly. We’ll be the feast, me and all the dirty little sluts, and the little cocksuckers, and the vile priests. Yum-yum, eat us up.” She stepped off the bed.

  Locan stood between her and the door.

  “Aw, sweetie, I’m really sorry for this, but . . .”

  He slammed his open hand hard across the girl’s face, grabbed her and shook her.

  “Come out of there, Jeanie. Look at me, look into my eyes.”

  The girl’s eyes refocused. “Oh, God, Mr Osgood . . . Mrs Osgood . . . I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean . . .”

  Rachel took the teenager in her arms. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

  “Someone’s been screwing with your head, Jeanie. Do you remember?”

  “He said . . . he said . . . I thought he was nice. My friends, Sally and Toni. Oh God!”

  “It’s OK. We’ll take care of them. Now, you need to see a doctor.”

  They summoned Mr Sprague and explained that Jeanie had fallen victim to the serial acid-dropper. Locan called DiLeo directly who had an ambulance sent to pick up Jeanie and her father, and a cruiser to the homes of her friends.

  Later, Locan called Mullens.

 
“It isn’t going to happen on Halloween,” Locan told him. “I should have figured, Halloween night, too many people floating around, goofing in the bone yards. He’s going to do it on All Saints’ Day, the night after Halloween. The town will be dead then, crowds gone, tumbleweeds blowing down the streets.”

  “OK, if you say so. I got the Minneapolis field report on that girl’s interview. Her name is Mercy Tramwell, comes from a very wealthy, very conservative family.”

  “Don’t they all? Fax it to me, OK?”

  “Done.”

  Locan and Rachel lay naked together in bed as Locan thumbed through the FBI report. She nibbled his shoulder, reading each page in turn as he turned it over.

  “That’s all?” she asked. “He slapped her around because he found her in bed with another guy?”

  “I think I’m beginning to understand this guy. Those agents in Minneapolis were good getting her to admit to this stuff. Ah, the lead agent’s first name is Denise. OK, use a woman to coax stuff out of a woman.”

  “Whaddya mean?”

  “You know that shit you girls pull with each other, ‘You can tell me, it’s just between us’ type of baloney.”

  “Oh, guys don’t do that,” she said, a sarcastic inflexion in her voice.

  He laid the report on the bed table and pushed his head back into the pillow. “Shit,” he sighed and closed his eyes.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Jeanie.”

  “She’ll be fine. Didn’t Mullens say Girolf pulled her out of it? She doesn’t even remember—”

  “She will remember. It’ll pop into her head when she least expects it. Lousy thing to do to a kid. I’m glad she came right home before she offered herself to some freak on the street.”

  “Well, sure, she has a crush on you.”

  “You too.”

  “Maybe. You really smacked her. You scared the shit out of me when you did that.”

  “Had to snap her out of it fast. Goddamn it, kids today are so casual about sex, they’re getting and giving their first blow jobs while they’re barely into their teens. If you’re that casual about a BJ, where the hell’s the magic in your first kiss?”

  “You remember your first kiss?”