William Bernhardt - Dark Eye

She shuddered, trembled, but did not attempt to answer.

“I know you’re probably not able to speak, so I won’t expect you to hold up your end of the conversation. I’ll do it for you. Look what I brought.”

He loosened the straps just enough that she could peer up and see what he had brought with him.

Two bizarre hairy orange costumes. Orangutans.

“I knew you were anxious to see your two friends, so I brought them with me. They’re quite agreeable these days. They put on their costumes without any hesitation. I hope you will, too.” He leaned closer. “I’m afraid I exaggerated a bit beforehand, my sweet. The leeches drugged you, but they didn’t poison you. This time.”

She stared at him, shivering, her eyes wide and lost, like a broken doll.

“No need to feel left out, my dear. I’ve got a costume for you, too.”

It was like the others, except that a huge section was cut out at the bosom, with a similar cutaway at the groin.

She trembled as she spoke. “If-if-if-if if if if if I put it on, will you get this… slime off of me?”

“My dear, you’ll be able to do it yourself. I’ll provide the soap and water. You can pass the day away in indulgent lavation.”

He unstrapped her. She took the suit like an automaton, barely thinking. He handed her a towel and she wiped herself off, wiped and wiped and wiped, leaving red abrasions and in some places bleeding. She picked the leeches away, crying as she did it, from her waist, her breasts, her pubis. Some left round sucking circles, others left blood oozing from her skin. But she did not scream or misbehave. She just sobbed quietly, desperately.

Then she took the suit. “Seems… wet.”

“Coated with paraffin wax. I’ll tell you why in a moment. Go on now. You must be anxious to get dressed.”

She pulled the suit over herself. Her breasts hung out through the opening at the upper torso, while the midriff cutaway exposed her genitalia.

She put it on without complaining.

“What you have to understand,” he said gently, almost paternally, “what it took me so long to grasp, is that it isn’t enough to simply make an offering. The offerings must be true participants. Willing.”

He took a book of matches from his pocket, struck one, then lit a small torch-a club with oily rags wrapped and secured at the top.

“Hard to imagine, isn’t it? That all this might have some wondrous purpose? But I can assure you that it does. One day, all humanity will give you its thanks. Your suffering will lead this troubled world to eternal bliss.”

He smiled genially, then passed her the torch. “Set your friends on fire, Tiffany.”

She looked at him, peering through the eye holes in the orangutan mask.

“Don’t worry. They won’t resist. They only exist to please me. Set them on fire.”

Her arm twitched.

“If you refuse, of course, I’ll have no choice but to put you back on the table. Perhaps it will be time to restart the pendulum. Instead of putting it across your chest, we’ll let it take off an arm. Or a leg.” His eyes narrowed. “Or perhaps I should bring out more leeches. Would you like that, Tiffany? Shall we bring them back?” He paused. “Or perhaps I should give one of your friends the opportunity I now offer you. Remember-you’re wearing a suit, too, highly flammable. Perhaps I should ask JJ if she will light your fire.”

Tiffany hesitated. Her arm moved indecisively.

“What shall it be, Tiffany? Them, or you?”

She took the torch.

“That’s a dear. Finish it up now.”

She did not cry or wail. It was almost as if sensation had fled from her, as if the idea of resistance was beyond imagining.

“Do it, Tiffany. Do it now.”

The wax caught fire immediately. She stepped back from the flame, dropping the torch. One suit caught the other and in only a few seconds both were consumed in a blistering inferno.

“They won’t suffer long. The suits will fuse to their skin and the smoke will choke them and they’ll die before they experience… too much of the burning.”

Tiffany crumpled to the floor, the orangutan suit bunched around her, her head buried beneath her hands. Her limbs were limp, as if all strength, indeed the bones themselves, had disappeared. He sensed that she wanted to cry, but no tears would come. There was almost no feeling at all, just a deadness, and a felt horror, not at him, but at herself.

Blessed be the prophet. The time was at hand.

The phone rang. Lisa.

“Calling to brighten my day with a report on last night’s lip-lock?”

“No. You wanna shack up together?”

I drew in my breath. “But Lisa-this is so sudden. We haven’t even kissed. And I know how important that is to you.”

“I’m serious, Suze. I’ve found a place. Fabulous. Big. Guy needs a housesitter. He’s going to be gone for years. We could have it for next to nothing.”

I sat up. Living in hotel rooms and barren apartments was getting way stale. “Sounds too good to be true.”

“I haven’t even told you the best part yet. It’s in L.A.”

Everything seemed to go into slow motion. I drew the receiver from my face and stared at it. I noticed I was breathing deeply.

“You mean… leave Vegas?”

“Well, it would be a hell of a long commute.”

“But-I’d lose my job.”

“Technically, you already did that, sweetie. And this consulting thing can’t last forever.”

“What would I do?”

“I don’t know. But you are a trained psychologist, remember? There are a lot of things you could do that don’t involve poking around corpses or getting nabbed by serial killers. Personally, I think it would do you good. To get away from all the… reminders.”

My eyes went into deep focus. There was a certain truth to what she said, of course. She wasn’t the first to suggest that I should leave. And if I won the custody hearing, I could take Rachel anywhere I wanted. Maybe I could go back into clinical work. Maybe get a cushy job as a corporate trainer.

I wondered if this house in L.A. had palm trees. I always wanted a house with palm trees.

“I don’t know, Lisa. I’ll have to think about it.”

“Okay. There’s no rush. Let’s talk tonight, okay, girlfriend?”

After she hung up, I had a hard time getting my head back where it belonged. Police work had been a part of my life for so long. It was the one thing my father and I’d had in common, and then after he was gone, something David and I had always shared. To some extent it had been my life, especially after David was gone. But what had it ever done for me? Made my life a misery. Gotten me kidnapped, abused. Reviled by my colleagues. Driven me to drink.

And there would always be room for another shrink in La-La Land, right?

I might still be thinking about it if Granger hadn’t burst into what I laughingly called my office. “Are you as sick and tired of these goddamn Feebs as I am?”

“Probably not,” I said honestly. “Why?”

“They’ve taken over the whole damn investigation!”

“And this surprises you? Granger-it’s what they do. ”

“Hey, wouldn’t it be great if you or I could crack this case? Show up those Junior J. Edgars?”

“Yeah. Especially if it were me.”

Darcy shuffled in behind him. He’d been acting like the department errand boy all day, couriering things from one department to the other, delivering messages, even going for coffee. Anyone else his age might’ve found it demeaning, but Darcy wanted to be on the premises, even when he and I weren’t doing anything. And not an hour passed that he didn’t find some reason to come by my desk.

“Have you been thinking about that cheerleader one, Tiffany? ’Cause I’ve been thinking about that one.”