An Apple for Zoë ~ The Forsaken (10 page)

"Mike you there!"

"Yeah I'm downstairs with Jessalee, did Grantham get your power back on up there?"
 

"I think so, Mike I need you up here fast. I found a little girl."

"We found some kids down here too. It's devastating."

"No Mike, she's not dead. She's alive! Get someone up here with some oxygen immediately," commanded James.

"It's okay sweetheart, help is on the way," he said, only to feel her grip her arms around his neck even tighter.

"So what's your name sweetie? It's okay, you can tell me I'm a police officer. I promise you won't have to go back in there again. Hey I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours, mine's Tom."

"Jordan."

"Jordan? That's a pretty name. So Jordan were you staying in the room I found you in?" She quickly nodded and sniffed, rubbing her nose.
 

"Are you staying here with your mommy and daddy?

"Uh-huh,"
she sniffed.

"Jordan do you remember what happened before everyone fell asleep?"
 

"They aren't asleep, they're dead!"
she shouted as she sobbed again.
 

"Oh honey, it's okay, I'm sorry."

"I want to go before he comes back!" she cried as gripped her arms tightly around James' neck. Her desperation caused him to wonder what had her so frightened.

"Before who comes back Jordan?"

"The Pig Man!"

CHAPTER TEN

 
The Pig Man

James handed Jordan to Jessalee as the CSI placed the oxygen mask on the little girl's face.

"Oh my god Tom, where did you find her?" Jessalee asked as she placed Jordan on her lap.

"She was in room 1223 under a pile of bodies, if you can believe that."

"That's probably what saved her life. She was close to the floor protected by everyone else that was on top of her," Jessalee said as she watched the girl gulp in the fresh pure air. "Not too fast honey."
 

Kirkland entered the room and saw Jessalee and James tending to the little girl. "Jessa, sorry to interrupt, but we're ready for you in 1219."

"I'll take her, Jessa," said James as he reached for Jordan. The little girl eagerly responded to James and curled up into his arms. "Jessa is going to be right back okay darling?" asked James as he kept the oxygen mask to her face. Jordan nodded her approval as Jessalee stood and winked at her.
 

Kirkland and Jessalee crossed the hallway and into room 1219. "I'm sorry to have to ask this of you Jessa, but we need to be sure it's Valerie."

"It's okay, Mike, I want to know as much as you do."

A cold chill ran across Jessalee's forearms as she stepped into the bedroom. She exhaled a sigh of relief as she saw that Kirkland had been kind enough to place a sheet over her sister's body.

"Can I pull it back?" she asked softly.

Kirkland nodded and gently caressed her shoulder to let her know he would be standing only inches away. Jessalee slowly reached down and curled her fingers around the edge of the sheet and then pulled it back in a fashion that was almost dreamlike. As the sheet came away from Valerie's face, Jessalee saw her sister dead before her. Kirkland watched intently from behind her.

"You okay Jessa?"

Jessalee nodded silently as she let the cold hard truth of her sister's death sink in. "Where's the tattoo, Mike?" she asked as she ignored the freshly carved swastika.

"Further down."

Jessalee pulled the sheet down her sister's body, slowly exposing her breasts and finally stopping at her genitalia. "Never Fink Mia?"

"We were hoping it meant something to you. Does it?"

Jessalee shook her head no. "For all I know, Mike it could be the name of another girlfriend."

"Was your sister exclusively a lesbian?"

Jessalee shot a long cold stare at Kirkland.
 

"I'm sorry, I know it's a rude question to ask but I had to ask."

Jessalee pulled the sheet back to its original position. As she covered her sister's face a single tear fell from her cheek and landed on the sheet quickly being absorbed away by the fabric. "Truth is, Mike, I really don't have a clue. Isn't that sad to not even know your own sister?"

"At the moment we're thinking it has something to do with Kritzler, since this was his room and he's a former Nazi. Hence the artwork on her forehead."

Jessalee turned away from her sister's body and walked directly up to Kirkland and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Take me out of here, Mike."

Kirkland held her close once again. She gently kissed his cheek, pulled away and made her way back to where James and the little girl were.

As Kirkland followed her, he could tell by the look on James' face, there was new information. "What's going on?"
 

"Jordan has been telling me of the monster she sees here every night," he said in a matter of fact tone.

 
"The pig man," Jordan announced to Kirkland and Jessalee.
 

James knelt down next to Jordan. He brushed her dark brown bangs from her eyes. "Honey, tell Jessa and Mike about the pig man?"

"He comes out at night."

"You've seen him more than once?" asked Kirkland.

"Uh-huh."

"Where do you see him?"

Jordan pointed a small finger straight into the air. Everyone looked at the ceiling. "You see him up there?" asked Jessalee.

"There!"
said Jordan pointing directly to air vent.
"He comes at night and watches me in my bed from up there."

A cold shiver came over the three of them as they listened to the girl tell them about the pig man. James continued, "Jordan why do you call him the pig man?"

"He has a pig head and a mans body. His eyes are big and his snout is bigger and black. He breathes hard and crawls real slow.
 

"Can you remember anything else about him?"

"He wears a cross."

"A cross?" asked James with a confused tone.

"Not a Jesus cross, but a funny looking cross."

The three of them looked at one another for any idea that might help the situation. Kirkland reached into his pocket and removed his note pad. "Can you draw it for us, Jordan?" he asked holding the pad. Jordan nodded, and took the pen and pad from him and began to draw what she had seen.

James swallowed hard as it was apparent Jordan was drawing a German Iron Cross. "Jordan, did the cross have something in the center of it?" She quickly nodded. "Was it something like this?" asked James as he took the pad and pen from her.

Jordan looked directly into James eyes
.
"Yes."

"We've got to get her out of here. Jessa can you take her?"

"Sure. You want to come with me darling. I know where they have the best ice cream," she said as she took Jordan up into her arms.

"Are Tom and Mike coming, too?" she asked innocently.

"Sure we are honey, we just want to make sure the pig man is gone, is that okay?" asked James. Once again she nodded her approval and placed her head on Jessalee's shoulder.

"You want to radio down to Bobby and send him up here to meet me? I don't really want to walk down all these stairs and let her see ... Just tell him I will meet him at the top of the stairs," she said as she walked away. She then stopped for a moment and turned to Kirkland. "Mike?"

"Yes?"

"Take care of my sister please."

"I promise Jessa. Are you coming back?" he inquired.

"No, I've seen enough death today."
 

James instantly got Bobby on the radio and told him Jessalee needed an escort down to the lobby. Mike forced a smile and waved to Jessalee and Jordan as he watched them walk to the landing of the stairs.

Once Jordan and Jessalee were out of earshot, James put his hand on Kirkland's shoulder. "Son of bitch Mike, that old Nazi has been crawling around inside the air ducts, and wearing his uniform no less."
 
Kirkland shivered from the image in his mind of 90-year-old Hermann Kritzler crawling into the airshafts wearing his black leather riding boots, SS uniform and moving around the hotel, what was he doing?
 

"Let's find out what Hermann was up to."
 

*

The two detectives turned around and faced the entrance to room 1219. As they started to go inside, James hesitated.
 

"Something wrong, Tom?"

Flashes of Fatty raping Julie while being watched by a host of celebrity ghosts crossed his mind's eye. "No I'm okay," assured James as he and Kirkland stepped inside 1219. Their attention was turned to the low muffled sounds of cheering and chanting.
 

"Do you hear that?"

"Yeah. Maybe someone left a television on," said Kirkland. Standing in the center of the living room James looked across into the bedroom where Valerie's dead body seemed to be looking back at him. Calling to him as he stepped into the room, James said, "At this point, Mike nothing is going to surprise me. Looking down at Valerie's dead, naked body, he tried to imagine what the killer was trying to tell him. Something instantly came to his mind. "Mike, you think Kritzler did this to her before he was killed?" Joining James in the bedroom, Kirkland looked down at her.
 

"It is certainly possible, which of course if he's our man, then that means his death is a suicide."

"You cut off your own dick, get your electrical cord tied around your neck and your hands behind your back bound with barbwire?"

"I've seen crazier shit, Tom."

"Something's missing."

"That noise, it's louder in here," said Kirkland as he listened for the clattering and chanting. "If I didn't know better I'd say it was coming from the closet," he said removing his gun and crossing to the door. Slowly pulling it open the two men could hear the clattering and chanting much more clearly now. Confused they stared at each other.

"Seig heil! Seig heil! SEIG HEIL!"
 

The sounds of the crowd chanting their loyalty to Hitler filled the room. The voices of what was clearly a group of men were firm, steady and filled with purpose. A mighty cheer that rivaled the sound of a sporting event resonated through the crowd. These were men who had loyally confirmed their vow to serve the most evil man in the twentieth century.
 

James looked at Kirkland to be certain he wasn't the only one who was hearing the voices. Kirkland nodded that he too was hearing the Nazi propaganda. Stepping closer to the closet they could hear the voice of Adolph Hitler speaking with great authority as he took the stage. A hollow clattering sounds accompanied his voice.
 

"What was that noise?"

The closet smelled of old clothes. Dust and the faint scent of almonds filled their nostrils. Looking up James saw a small chain attached to a light bulb dangling in front of him. He pulled it and closet came to life. Pushing the clothes to the right side, revealed a second coupler that held the hanger pole in place. "What have we here?" said James as he pointed the strange find to Kirkland. James lifted the pole and placed it into the coupler that was higher, causing the pole to be lop-sided.
 

Looking back to the left wall James saw the reflection of hinges. It was a false wall. James pressed his ear to the wall in the tiny cramped closet. The sounds of Hitler and the clattering were coming from the other side. Pushing the wall, it easily creaked open.

"Oh man Mike, it's a fucking crawlspace," he said, reaching toward his hip and getting a grip on his pistol, it gave him a small amount of relief and restored his confidence to continue on. Squeezing through the small opening followed by Kirkland, they both found themselves in the place where Hermann Kritzler truly lived. The room was long and narrow, only about three and half feet wide, but easily 12 to 15 feet deep. At the very end facing James was a banner of a swastika, which stretched the full length of the wall. At the bottom of the swastika banner was an old gray military trunk. Each sidewall sported framed photos of Hitler and other high-ranking Nazi officials. James saw that behind himself, the room went the nearly the same distance, however that wall was obscured by the flickering image of Hitler. The clattering noise now made sense—It was a film projector. The light from the projector lamp gave that side of the room a strobe effect.
But who the hell turned it on,
wondered James as he switched it off.

A folding chair sat in front of the projector with a makeshift sheet serving as a movie screen.
You couldn't let it go, could you Hermann? You had to have a place where you could still be Hermann Kritzler the Nazi. So you built yourself a little shrine where you could keep worshipping Hitler. You sat right there in that chair watching your films, remembering the good old days.
James thought.

Kirkland shook his head in disgust as he looked around the crawlspace and took in the propaganda— the swastika banner, photos and Nazi treasures hidden away by Kritzler
 
"How does this happen, Tom? How does a guy like this manage to avoid justice, live right under our noses, collect social security?" questioned Kirkland.