Bare Girl Page 9

  Erin was struck with the casual manner with which he said this. It was as if he was talking about some character in a movie.

  “He certainly didn’t talk about her much. I’ll wager that he was more interested in having a child than having a wife. It was children he was interested in. He called them his little ushabti. That’s certainly how he saw them.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Eddie gave a hurt little shrug. “He raised me to be his slave—intellectually, emotionally, and physically. He never sexually abused me either, that’s not what he was after. He wanted to create children who would be loyal to him, even if they hated him.”

  “How?”

  “Drugs, psychology, harsh and manipulative upbringing. He kidnapped the first child when I was eight and the little boy was only five. I had been Father’s whipping boy for as long as I could remember, and he made me deal out punishment on our new acquisition.”

  Eddie’s hands were trembling now, his eyes filling as he looked out across the park without seeing it.

  “I can’t tell you the boy’s name, or the names of any of the others. I’m not allowed. In any case, that one is dead now, although not by our hands. We never purposely killed anyone I know of. The problem with the first one was that Father and I didn’t know how to manipulate them properly yet. The first boy was our test case. We kept him locked in a room, drugged up while Father played hypnotic tapes with messages on them instructing the child to become a firefighter when he grew up. Not much of a stretch for a young boy. He decided on something simple for the first try.”

  “Wait. What?” Erin was thoroughly confused now.

  Eddie leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands outstretched, brow furrowed as he explained. Erin was reminded of her own father and other professors at Brown University when they tried to explain a complicated subject to an undergraduate.

  “The purpose was to extend Father’s will beyond his own reach and beyond his own life. He wanted to instill his will in children and have them do his bidding ten, twenty, even fifty years later.”

  “But why?”

  Eddie shrugged. “Power. He was such a little man in his own way. Most of these psychos are.” Briefly Eddie flushed and looked around nervously as if his dead father might hear him. With a visible summoning of courage he went on. “On the rare occasions when we did something normal like go to a restaurant or pub or out to a movie, he was an awkward fool. People laughed at him. He hated me seeing that so I was kept at home most of the time. It was at home where he felt the most comfortable, where he really ruled over his own world. I suppose he hated the real world and wanted to create his own, like a shy child playing with toy soldiers.

  “And I’m afraid he broke his first toy soldier. Looking back, I can see how ham-handed our treatment of the first boy was. We got much better with the later test cases,” he said with obvious pride, giving Erin a significant look. She was about to ask a question when he went on.

  “So he decided to tell this boy that thirteen years on, when he turned eighteen, that he would become a firefighter. Before he was old enough he would join the local branch of the Junior Firefighters League. Not sure you remember it. It’s an organization for kids to learn fire safety and help out at the station and even ride in the fire truck on occasion. It sounded like great fun and I must admit I was jealous of the boy. So we kept him drugged, with hypnotism tapes repeating to him how much he wanted to be a firefighter and how no other life would be interesting. We also got him movies and children’s books about the subject. He got candy when he watched or read them, and got beaten if he resisted in any way, or if he got any questions incorrect when we tested him about the subject. The silly boy had some notion of being a physician like his father and proved intransigent. We also instructed him to remember nothing about his time with us.

  “After six months we released him. Judging from the newspaper reports he remembered more than we would have liked, but not enough to identify us. We followed his progress for a couple of years, checking out his school, the press, and monitoring the Junior Firefighters League. He never joined, and it wasn’t long before he got in trouble with the juvenile courts.”

  Eddie let out a deep sigh. “Father decided he needed to refine his methods. We kept the children for longer, reduced the punishments and the rewards in order to create a more normalizing routine. We really tried to make them feel at home.”

  Eddie glanced at Erin and winced when he saw her expression. He shivered and continued.

  “Father studied constantly, and improved the drugs he used, finding those that didn’t leave a trace, or left a misleading trace. The doctors who analyzed the children after they reappeared had no real idea what Father used. Of course it took years to see any successes, although the first failure came all too soon. That boy who was supposed to become a firefighter got into fights, shoplifted, used drugs, destroyed property, and spent quite a bit of time in various institutions. He killed himself at fourteen.”

  “You’re a monster,” Erin said. “I should turn you into the police.”

  Eddie gave her a wicked grin. “And lose your only source of information, your only connection to your past? Hardly. And I am not a monster. Father was the monster. I’m only his unwilling servant. I have no more control over my own actions than a puppet on strings.”

  “What a load of crap!” Erin rounded on him. “You’re an adult and he’s dead. You can do what you like. Why don’t we go to the police together and tell them everything? You were a minor and you wouldn’t face prosecution. You could give a lot of families peace.”

  Even as the words came out of her mouth Erin could hear how weak they sounded, how pleading. Here she was faced with someone admitting to knowledge of multiple felonies, including against her, and yet she did nothing.

  Eddie was right, they were being manipulated by a dead puppet master.

  He shook his head sadly and said, “We have things to do, Erin. Together. I haven’t gotten to your purpose yet, or why I am here at this time. You are our masterwork, and it is all coming to fruition. You see, Father decided to make his ushabti interact, form a community. Simply sending them off every which way would be too simple. He wanted to create a narrative that would outlive him.”

  Erin tensed. A question came unbidden out of her mouth, one for which she dreaded the answer. “So that first test, with the firefighter boy, was that repeated?”

  Eddie nodded. “Now you’re beginning to catch on. It was repeated with all the children in various ways. He saw your promise, saw that you were more intelligent and assertive than the other children, so you became the star in his little movie. He instructed you to go into law enforcement. He kept the instructions a bit vague, because he found that giving the subject leeway helped make them think they were following their own will. You could have chosen to become a public prosecutor or a police officer, or even a judge. That was irrelevant. It’s interesting you chose to become a private investigator. You are your own boss, or at least you think so.”

  Erin stared at him, utterly disgusted.

  “Are you trying to tell me that when I was five he put the idea in my head to fight crime? You’re off your rocker. I became a private investigator because I was kidnapped, not because of anything my kidnapper said!”

  Eddie shook his head and smiled. “No, Erin. Think what you like, but you have followed the path he chose for you, as has the person who took Isabel.”

  “What?” Erin gasped.

  Eddie raised a hand. “Now before you ask, no, I don’t know who it is. All I know is that it’s one of the children, who’s operating under a different name now. That was part of the instructions. They don’t know that the idea to kidnap Isabel came from Father’s orders.”

  Erin stared at him in disbelief. She didn’t want to believe a word he said, but something deep inside her told her it could be the truth.

  Could be. Eddie had always been a deceiver. She sensed that although she could summon up
no concrete memories to prove that to herself. Besides, it was all too outlandish.

  Another possibility arose. Could Eddie himself be the kidnapper? She had trouble believing this maladjusted person could pull it off, but it was a possibility.

  “Eddie, if you’re being straight with me, please help out. Tell me everything you know.”

  Eddie shook his head, smiling sadly. Or was it smugly? Erin couldn’t be sure. He seemed between his two extremes, almost a normal person as he described the horrible upbringing his father had inflicted on him and so many others.

  “That’s not my role. I’m here to help you, and I will. But I can’t give you all the answers. I don’t even know them all myself.”

  “What else can you tell me?” Erin pleaded, feeling helpless.

  “Today, just that you should look at those close to Isabel. And don’t go looking for names of children lost and found in England a couple of decades ago. The person who did this was instructed to change their name. That’s all I can tell you for now. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

  Erin felt a twist in her gut when he said that. That meant the interview would come to a close with so much unanswered. Doubt rose in her mind again. Was this all just a made up story?

  Eddie raised a forefinger. “I have one more thing to tell you. I am sure you have your doubts. The entire story seems incredible, so I have a tidbit of proof for you.”

  Erin leaned forward.

  “He contacted your parents.”

  Erin’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

  This was something new. Her parents had never mentioned that.

  “Your father, actually. Your mother was a nonstarter, if you don’t mind my saying.”

  No, I don’t mind you saying that. It’s accurate enough, Erin thought bitterly.

  “Father locked you and the rest of the kids up one day and took me on a drive to a nearby market town. He said he wanted me to see how to plant a seed. His very words. Then he used a phone box to call your father. Your parents had changed numbers by then because of all the batty calls and now they had an unlisted number, but my father got it somehow. I don’t know how. You have to understand that there’s much I don’t know. He didn’t tell me everything. Anyway, he called your father and told him that he could see into the future, and that his daughter would be found unsullied and would become a champion for justice one day.”

  Erin cocked her head. “They got a lot of crank calls when I was gone, and more after I’d been found. They would have dismissed that as just another one.”

  Eddie nodded. “That was Father’s intention. Your parents would slam the receiver down and think it was just another nutter. The seed would be planted when you did, indeed, come home safe and unharmed. Your father wouldn’t actually believe that he had been speaking with a psychic on the phone, but with that wonderful wish fulfillment coming true, that his little princess got returned to him intact, it would fix in his mind. An educated academic like him wouldn’t consciously think the stranger on the phone could see the future, but being right about such a vital thing would make him unconsciously push to make the rest of the prediction true. A bit like Pavlov’s dog. Ring a bell, give a treat. Ring a bell and it salivates. But give the dog a bell, and the possibility of another treat, and it will ring it all by itself. That’s what Father wanted to do.”

  Erin blinked. She cast her mind back, trying to remember anything her father had said to her growing up about the career path she should take.

  As far as she could remember there had been nothing direct, never any talk that started with “you should”, and yet there had been a lot of casual comments about righting the world’s wrongs, about how a young person would be best off looking for a career that would improve things. And there had been a lot of bitterness about the kidnapping and crime in general. Any time her father watched the news while some horrible crime was being reported, his face would cloud over and he’d grumble about how the world needed more people on the side of right than on the side of wrong.

  It didn’t take much for her younger self to put two and two together. That and her own anxiety over her experience had made her choice of careers all but inevitable.

  Erin could remember how delighted her father had been when she’d declared her major in college. He had given her a big hug and had smiled all day.

  Then another memory came up, one that hadn’t seemed significant until this moment.

  After she had told him what she would study and he had given her the hug, he had said something.

  “I knew you would do the right thing.”

  Erin went cold. Her father really had wanted her to fight crime, just like Eddie had said.

  Her kidnapper really had planted a seed.

  Erin trembled all over. No, it couldn’t be true. Her life couldn’t have been preordained by the monster who had stolen her childhood.

  Eddie stood up. “Well, I’m sure you want to be alone for a while—”

  “Wait!”

  Eddie gave her a reassuring smile. It was almost kind. “You’ll see me tomorrow, I promise. As long as you don’t do something silly like call the police, that is. I have given you quite enough to digest for one day. Think on it and we’ll chat tomorrow. Do not call me. I’ll call you when it’s time.”

  Erin looked on helplessly as he gave her a wave and strolled off. It never even occurred to her to run after him or call the cops. Even now she could see two police officers on horseback in the distance. She did not shout out for them.

  Once again she was a little girl under the thumb of Prince Eddie.

  Chapter 11

  Erin got back to her hotel room exhausted and emotionally drained, and she still had a few hours of background checks to run on various Isabel Enterprises employees. She doubted that she’d find something the police wouldn’t see, but part of her job description was to be an extra pair of eyes, and she’d made it her specialty to think outside the box, especially considering that most police thought within the confines of a very small box.

  But first she brewed a cup of coffee from the hotel’s kitchenette and dialed her father’s number. She was late checking up on him.

  Jennifer, the night nurse, answered the phone.

  “Hello, Ms. Bond, he’s doing all right today. A bit confused as always but nothing worse than usual,” Jennifer told her, anticipating Erin’s nightly question.

  “Thanks, Jennifer, could you put him on?”

  Erin waited for a moment before she heard the familiar, aging voice over the phone.

  “Hello, Erin my darling, how are you? Did you hear the news? Isabel Morales was kidnapped. Such a nice girl, although I must say I never liked pop music. What’s the world coming to, I wonder.”

  Erin took a deep breath and replied. “Yes, Dad. I know Isabel was kidnapped. I was hired to find her, remember? I’m calling from New York.”

  “Oh, you’re searching for her, are you? Well, that’s fine. So why are you in New York?”

  Erin rubbed her eyes. “How are things in Providence, Dad?”

  “Oh, fine, just fine. I talked to the university this morning.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yes, I’m applying to get my lectureship back. I’m going to waste away sitting here all day. Did you know they replaced old Sanders as department head?”

  “Is that so?” Erin said, a lump coming to her throat. Sanders had stepped down as department head a year ago. It had been news to her father every week since then.

  “Oh, yes, they have a new fellow now. Nice chap. Very nice.” Her father’s voice trailed off.

  Erin sighed. As torturous as this was, Jennifer had been correct. He wasn’t any worse than usual. She had heard Alzheimer’s described as the gradual theft of a loved one. She could think of no better definition.

  Bracing herself, she started what was sure to be a frustrating and fruitless line of questioning.

  “Dad, remember when I was five and went missing—”

  “Oh, Erin darling,
don’t bring that up. It’s all in the past. You really should just leave it there and find someone nice. I would so like to be a grandfather.”

  Erin tensed. That was not the conversation she wanted to have. She’d had that one far too often.

  “No, Dad, please listen. I’ve come across some clues about that time. There was a man who called you and said that I would come home safe and unhurt, and that I would become a champion for justice someday. Do you remember that?”

  “Oh, Erin, I don’t like to remember those things, and it was so long ago.”

  “Dad, this is important, could you think about it? Try to remember. Did someone like that call while I was missing?”

  “So many people called,” he said, his voice sounding vague. “I remember there was this one nice police inspector who called—”

  Erin cut him off before he could go off on one of his random stories. Speaking with someone afflicted with Alzheimer’s was a bit like playing an iPod on shuffle. Anecdotes, memories, and ideas all came at random with no real order.

  “No, Dad, I’m not talking about the police. It was one of those strangers who called you. There were a lot of them, as you said, so many that you changed your number. This one called after you changed your number. That must have been unusual. You would have remembered it. Can you remember now?”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. It was so long ago and I don’t like to think about it.”

  Erin slumped. “So you don’t remember anyone saying I would grow up to fight crime?”

  Her father laughed. “Erin, my darling, of course no one ever said that. I’m glad you took up my idea, though.”

  Erin’s spine prickled. “Your idea?”

  “Why, yes. You were such a bright and happy child, and having you returned to us was like a miracle. When the doctor told us you hadn’t been abused, at least in the worst way you could have been, I decided then and there that you should be a force for good in the world. Fighting for justice, as you say. So I encouraged you. I’m so glad you became a private investigator. Oh, did you hear that singer Isabel has been kidnapped? Such a horrible world we live in. Perhaps you could get involved in that case.”