Lynda Plante - Entwined

The fury rose up within her, the fury which had kept her alive in the early years, a fury which now gave her the inner strength to survive. With a forced calmness, she began to erase all trace of her presence in the room.

Ruda packed all of Kellerman's belongings in his case; she emptied every drawer, checked the bathroom and collected his shaving equipment. They would find out who he was soon enough, but they would also find out something else. Ruda took Kellerman's toilet bag in her hand and rifled through it, and found the razor. She hurried to his side, rolled up his left sleeve until she found what she was looking for.

The razor slit deep into his arm... She cut a square, and began to slice deep, cutting away the tattoo, but then fell back. As she sliced the artery his blood spurted over her face, her chest. Kellerman was not dead. Her rage went out of control.

She wanted to be sick, could feel the bile rising from her stomach. But she had to stay calm. She picked up the ashtray and hit him again, and again, her teeth clenched as she used all her strength. Then she waited, knew this time he had to be dead, and she carried the heavy marble ashtray into the bathroom, washed it, dried it, left it wrapped in the stained bloody towel, sure it was clean of prints. Then she washed around the sink, the taps. Suddenly she caught sight of her reflection again. Her eyes were crazy, her face white, blood rivulets now running like tears down her face. She backed out of the bathroom, rubbing frantically at her skin.

She had to face Kellerman again. The force of the last blow had made his head jerk sideways. His top set of dentures had fallen out.

As she tried to drag and push his body under the bed, the heel of her boot ground the dentures into the carpet. She was panting now, but she kept on working. She cleaned the room, the door handles, anything she might have touched. Then she found Kellerman's hat, was about to tuck it into his case, but changed her mind. She turned over the blood-soaked rug he had been lying on, tucking the stained area beneath the bed. She then fetched the do not disturb sign and hung it on the door. Carrying Kellerman's belongings in his case, wearing his hat, she slipped down the stairs. There was still no one in reception; she grabbed the book, and tore out the pages with Kellerman's name.

Ruda was back at her trailer by midnight. She could hear Luis snoring loudly, his door ajar. She slipped out as silently as she had crept in and went over to the freezer trailer. Knowing she wouldn't sleep, Ruda needed to keep herself busy, and she began to prepare the morning's feed for the cats. She was so intent on her work that she didn't hear the door open. When Luis spoke she sprang back in shocked surprise.

"Jesus Christ, what are you doing? Do you know what time it is?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"I saw the lights on, I thought someone was breaking in. What are you doing, it's after midnight..."

Ruda continued cutting the meat. "I couldn't sleep because of your snoring! You left your door open, I've told you to keep it shut!"

Luis grinned sheepishly, and offered to give her a hand. She refused, and he came to her side, "I'm sorry, I know what I did this afternoon was unforgivable..."

He backed away from her then, a look of horror on his face. Her blouse was covered with blood.

"Why haven't you got one of the rubber aprons on? Have you seen your shirt?"

Ruda looked at her shirt covered with Kellerman's blood.

"It doesn't matter, it was falling apart. I'll chuck it out in the morning. You go back to bed, I'll be a while yet."

Again Luis offered to help her, but she ignored him, and after a moment he left. Ruda washed down the tables and cleaned the knives, hammer, and hatchets before she scrubbed her own arms with a wooden brush, paying particular attention to her nails.

She stared at her left wrist, and once more the full impact of what she had done that night dawned on her. But she would not give in to it, she pressed it down further and further inside her, locking it out of sight of her mind.

She took off her blouse and stuffed it into Kellerman's case. When she saw that the inside of her raincoat was stained, she knew she would have to destroy it along with the rest of his belongings.

Ruda returned to her trailer and changed into an old sweater, and an old pair of Luis's trousers. She then carried Kellerman's suitcase, her raincoat, shirt, and trousers to the big garbage barrels. She tossed his case into the huge bins which were waiting for the morning collection. She then carried Kellerman's papers and her marriage license to the main incinerators and eased back the burning-hot lid. She stuffed the papers inside, one by one, making sure each caught fire. She watched the flames slowly lick and eat his treasured green passport, watched the black letters disintegrate. The charred black smoke made her so desperate to replace the lid that she forgot to use the holder, but picked up the red-hot lid of the incinerator in her bare hand. Her burning skin hissed, but she didn't even feel the pain.

There was a low rumble of thunder and the rain became heavier. The ground was still muddy underfoot, and she stumbled over the gangplanks in her haste to get inside. In the vast arena, all the animals were sleeping. The heaters were on full blast, and three night lights gave off a soft pink light. Ruda headed toward her cages as there was a second rumble of thunder. The animals loathed thunder, and lightning made it even worse.

Ruda passed the tigers, who were huddled together; a few raised their heads as they recognized her smell, then returned to sleeping. Only Mamon was awake, his amber eyes bright. Ruda pressed close to the cage and called to him; he crawled on his belly toward the bars and rubbed them with his head. She stayed with Mamon for a while, comforted by him.

By the time she got into bed she was exhausted. She drew the sheet to her naked body, tired but relieved it was over. Kellerman's passport, their marriage license, the hotel guest register sheet, all were charred to a cinder, gone. It was over at last, and there was no witness, no one to threaten her newfound security.

Ruda concentrated hard, just as she had done as a child, waited until she felt the leaden weight creep upward from her toes, to her knees, to her arms, to her heart. She breathed deeply, willing her mind to lose consciousness. Gradually she allowed the weight to cover and spread, from her lungs to her mouth. She slept in a deep, dreamless whiteness, protected, peaceful; no one could break through that whiteness.

The night that Tommy Kellerman died was the night Baroness Maréchal tried to kill herself, it was the night she experienced the horror of a living death, the terrible white weight she was powerless to control or stop. The attack had left her so exhausted she remained sedated the next day.

Vebekka had no memory of Dr. Franks's visit, or of how many people monitored her slow recovery to consciousness.

Dr. Franks asked that Anne Marie be allowed to visit him at his office. He also wanted another interview with the baron and Helen Masters, to find more clues to Vebekka's mental disorder.

It was agreed that Hilda be brought in to sit with the baroness during Anne Marie's absence.

When Hilda reached the suite, the baroness was in a deep sleep. Hilda sat down in a chair by the bed. Soon, all that could be heard in the vast silent bedroom was the clicking of her knitting needles.

Vebekka slept peacefully, her hands folded on the starched white linen sheet. She was wearing a white frilly negligee that couldn't disguise the sharp bones of her neck and shoulders, the thinness of her arms. Her face was drawn. There were deep dark circles beneath her closed eyes.