Tess Gerritsen - The Mephisto Club

“Okay, Lily,” said Jane. “Now you’re going to tell me the truth.”

“You won’t believe the truth.”

“Try me.”

Lily sat motionless, tangled hair spilling across her face. It didn’t matter anymore. She was so tired of running. I give up.

“Where is Dominic?” asked Jane.

“He’s dead,” said Lily.

A moment passed as the detective processed that information, as she reached her own conclusions. Through the closed window came the wail of a passing fire truck, but inside this car, there was only the hiss of the heater.

Jane said, “You killed him?”

Lily swallowed. “Yes.”

“So his mother never came for him, did she? She never took him abroad. That’s why you wrote that letter to the school.”

Lily’s head drooped lower. There was no point in denying anything. This woman had already put it all together. “The school called. They kept calling, wanting to know if he was coming back. I had to write the letter so they’d stop asking me where he was.”

“How did you kill him?”

Lily took in a shuddering breath. “It was the week after my father’s funeral. Dominic was in our garage looking at my mother’s car. He said she wouldn’t need it anymore, so maybe he could have it.” Lily’s voice dropped to a tight whisper. “That’s when I told him I knew. I knew he killed them.”

“How did you know?”

“Because I found his notebook. He kept it under his mattress.”

“What was in the notebook?”

“It was all about us. Pages and pages about the boring Saul family. What we did every day, the things we said to each other. He had notes about which path Teddy always took to the lake. About which pills we kept in the bathroom cabinet. What we ate for breakfast, how we said good night.” She paused. Swallowed. “And he knew where my father kept the key to his gun cabinet.” She looked at Jane. “He was like a scientist, studying us. And we were nothing but lab rats.”

“Did he actually write in his notebook that he’d killed your family?”

She hesitated. “No. His last entry was August eighth, the day that Teddy…” She stopped. “He knew better than to actually write about it.”

“Where is that notebook now? Do you still have it?”

“I burned it. Along with all his other books. I couldn’t stand the sight of them.”

Lily could read the look in Jane’s eyes. You destroyed the evidence. Why should I believe you?

“Okay,” said Jane. “You said you found Dominic in the garage, that you confronted him there.”

“I was so upset, I didn’t think about what would happen next.”

“What did happen?”

“When I told him I knew what he’d done, he just stared right back at me. No fear, no guilt. ‘You can’t prove it,’” he said. She took a breath and slowly released it. “Even if I could have proved it, he was only fifteen. He wouldn’t have gone to jail. In a few years, he would have been free. But my family would still be dead.”

“Then what happened?”

“I asked him why. Why he’d do something so terrible. And you know what he said?”

“What?”

“‘You should have been nicer to me.’ That was his answer. That’s all he said. Then he smiled and walked out of the barn, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.” She paused. “That’s when I did it.”

“How?”

“I picked up a shovel. It was leaning up against the wall. I don’t even remember reaching for it. I didn’t even feel the weight of it. It was like-like my arms were someone else’s. He fell, but he was still conscious, and he started to crawl away.” She released a deep sigh and said softly, “So I hit him again.”

Outside the night had fallen quiet. The bitter weather had driven pedestrians off the street, and only an occasional car glided past.

“And then?” asked Jane.

“All I could think of was how to get rid of the body. I got him into my mother’s car. I thought, maybe I could make it look like an accident. It was nighttime, so no one would see anything. I drove the car over to this quarry a few miles out of town. I rolled it over the edge, into the water. I assumed that someone would eventually spot it. Someone would report that a car was down there.” Lily gave a disbelieving laugh. “But nobody did. Can you imagine that?” She looked at Jane. “Nobody ever found it.”

“So then you went on with your life.”

“I graduated from high school. And I left town, for good. I didn’t want to be there if they ever found his body.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Jane said, “You realize you’ve just confessed to murdering Dominic Saul. I’ll have to place you under arrest.”

Lily didn’t flinch. “I’d do it again. He deserved it.”

“Who knew about this? Who knew you killed him?”

Lily paused. Outside, a couple walked past, heads bent against the wind, shoulders hunched inside winter coats.

“Did Sarah and Lori-Ann know?”

“They were my best friends. I had to tell them. They understood why I did it. They swore to keep it secret.”

“And now your friends are dead.”

“Yes.” Lily shuddered and hugged herself. “It’s my fault.”

“Who else knows?”

“I never told anyone else. I thought it was over with.” She took a breath. “Then Sarah received that postcard.”

“With the reference to Revelation?”

“Yes.”

“Someone else must know what you did. Someone who saw you that night, or heard about it. Someone who’s now having fun tormenting you.”

Lily shook her head. “Only Dominic would have sent that postcard.”

“But he’s dead. How could he?”

Lily fell silent for a moment, knowing that what she was about to say would surely sound absurd to this coldly logical woman. “Do you believe in an afterlife, Detective?” she asked.

As Lily could have predicted, Jane gave a snort. “I believe we get one shot at life. So you can’t afford to screw it up.”

“The ancient Egyptians believed in an afterlife. They believed that everyone has a Ba, which they depicted as a bird with a human face. The Ba is your soul. After you die, it’s released, and can fly back to the world of the living.”

“What’s this Egyptian stuff have to do with your cousin?”

“Egypt is where he was born. He had books and books from his mother, some of them quite old, with incantations from Egyptian coffin texts, magical spells to shepherd the Ba back to life. I think he found a way.”

“Are you talking about resurrection?”

“No. Possession.”

The silence lasted for what seemed like forever.

“You mean demonic possession?” Jane finally asked.

“Yes,” said Lily softly. “The Ba finds another home.”

“It takes over some other guy’s body? Makes him do the killing?”

“The soul has no physical form. It needs to command real flesh and blood. The concept of demonic possession isn’t new. The Catholic Church has always known about it, and they have documented cases. They have rites of exorcism.”

“You’re saying that your cousin’s Ba has hijacked a body, and that’s how he’s managed to come after you, how he’s managed to kill your two friends?”

Lily heard the skepticism in Jane’s voice, and she sighed. “There’s no point in talking about this. You don’t believe any of it.”

“Do you? I mean, really?”

“Twelve years ago, I didn’t,” said Lily softly. She looked at Jane. “But I do now.”

Twelve years underwater, thought Jane. She stood shivering at the edge of the quarry as engines rumbled and the cable groaned taut, tugging against the weight of the long-submerged car. What happens to flesh that’s been steeped in water through the algal blooms of twelve summers, through the freeze and thaw of twelve winters? The other people standing beside her were grimly silent, no doubt dreading, as she did, their first glimpse of Dominic Saul’s body. The county medical examiner, Dr. Kibbie, lifted his collar and pulled his scarf over his face, as though he wanted to disappear into his coat, wanted to be anywhere else but here. In the trees above, a trio of crows cawed, as though eager for a glimpse, a taste, of carrion. Let there not be any flesh left, thought Jane. Clean bones she could deal with. Skeletons were merely Halloween decorations, like clattering plastic. Not human at all.