Inanimate (24 page)

“
Alright, let’s give it a rest
for now”
sighed officer Barlow, called in on his day off to help
with the investigation.

He
leaned down towards Jessica.

“
Let’s get you some ice
cream, would you like that?”

Looking up at him doe eyed
Jessica
held
up Betsy to which Barlow chuckled.

“
Ok, we’ll get your dolly
some as well.”

Oates
was still chatting to MacNamee in his
office.

“
One of the victims”
continued Oates “His
name was Jimmy Collins, he was present on the day Andy Williams
died, I’m already sure the deaths are related now, I’m also
convinced you were right about the revenge killings. Or at least,
revenge killings in
someone’s
mind.”

“
What about the
girlfriend?”

“
Collate
ral damage we think. She had never
met Andy Williams before as far as we know. I’d like to come up to
Hallcombes to speak with Connor, Doc. I’d like to find out who this
Betsy is before more bodies pile up.”

“
You’re more than welcome to come
up
Sheriff
but I can’t guarantee you a chat with the boy. He’s not quite ready
to talk to outsiders. One of our doctors normally talks to him, he
has a...” MacNamee hesitated “...fairly good rapport with Connor,
he could certainly ask your questions for you.”

“
All the sam
e I’d like to be
there.”

Outside, Officer Barlow ushered Jessica
out of the interview room and Stephen noticed. As if pricked by a
large needle he sat up, rigid. His brain flashed through the
terrifying images of the corpses he saw, Lucy Ellis’ mashed up
face, Jimmy Collins’ contorted body, and Betsy’s mocking smile
after it all. An uncontrollable impulse took over him, he reacted
without hesitating. Screaming out loud he jumped to his feet then
pushed over the cop at the desk beside him, tearing the gun from
his holster.

“
That’s her! She did
it!”

Benchley
screamed pointing the gun at Jessica
and Betsy. Acting quickly, a nearby young cop drew his gun and took
aim. The two men fire rounds off at almost exactly the same time.
The young cop’s bullet hit Benchley square in the throat, whereas
Stephen’s missed its intended target, sinking deep into the chest
of Barlow. Startled by the noise outside Oates dropped the phone to
his side and ran to the door.

“
Sheriff what was that noise?
Sheriff?”

“
I’ll be up tomorrow
morning.”

Eager to get to his colleagues
aide, Oates yelled his response while running, throwing the phone
as he did in no general direction.
Others had already intervened, there was
nothing more Oates could do right now. He simply stared at the
chaos in front of him. He could not move. He was completely
dumbfounded by the happenings in his station. Four bodies already,
now two more shot, he simply could not believe his own eyes. His
thoughts went back to Andy Williams and the way he handled the
murder, if these killings were motivated by revenge then perhaps he
could had avoided all of this by simply holding his nephew
accountable for his actions. Now however, as the world (as Staunton
knew it) was quickly being turned on its head, he would never know
for sure. While some of the cops in the room tended to Officer
Barlow’s wounds, others tended to Stephen’s, little Jessica moved
unnoticed to the mortally wounded Benchley. She stood over him,
making sure the last sight he would ever see on this earth was the
face of a smiling Betsy looming over him.

CHAPTER 24

Whiskey poured from a crystal decanter.
Mayor Shannahan poured two, one for himself and one for Oates.
Placing a large measure beside the staring Sheriff he put the
decanter back on its shelf then sat down at his desk. Shannahan
stared at the Sheriff who was looking down at the table. After a
long moment the mayor spoke.

“
So, how many whiskies
is it going to take
for you to bring me up to speed?”

Oates
said nothing; he took his glass and
downed the entire drink. Placing the glass back down on the table
he wiped his mouth.

“
You
know…” said Shannahan, standing up
and walking back to the decanter. “I didn’t find it the least bit
unusual you didn’t come to me after the first murders, I know your
ways Stacey. I know how you think.”

Mayor Shannahan was one of only two people
who called Sheriff Oates by his first name. The other was his wife
and if his anger at being named Stacey was to be compounded by
anything, it would be the fact that he had nothing but contempt for
the only two people who called him it. Shannahan knew Oates did not
like his first name but he called him it anyways, he liked to
remind the Sheriff who was in charge.

“
Is that right?” asked Oates
dryly as Shannahan poured another for him.

“
I knew you would come to
me, when you were ready.”

“
Barlow didn’t make it;
neither did our
suspect, that’s six bodies in less than twenty four
hours.”

Oates looked square at the pot-bellied
figure of greed before him.

“
Six!” he
emphasized. “That’s
six times
more than our entire
murder count last year!”

Mayor
Shannahan didn’t seem troubled. In
charge of a small town he had swept his fair share of secrets under
the colloquial rug and as such he felt untouchable by anyone. Oates
cradled his second large whiskey while looking into Shannahan’s
beady eyes.

“
Have you heard the
rumors?”

“
This is a small town Stacey. I
hear a lot of gossip, a lot of hearsay and a lot of rumors but I
don’t pay any attention to them.”

“
Well you
should
.”

Shannahan
smiled back at him.

“
Killer dolls? I should pay
attention to killer dolls?”

Oates just
stared back at him, unflinching.
Chuckling, Shannahan said:

“
On second thought, maybe
you should give me back that whiskey.”

Oates
smiled through his anger.

“
I’ve been speaking with
the
Doctor in
charge of Connor Williams”

“
The ‘Baby
Killer?’”

Oates
nodded softly.

“
He
told me Connor told them of someone who
was taking revenge for his father’s death, and all of Connor’s toys
had vanished from his locked room. What do you make of
this…”

Oates slid
across the still picture of
Dummy from the motel.

“
It kind of
looks like a kid” Shannahan said
hesitantly.

“
That’s what I thought, but do
you
know any
kids that would do…this…”

One by one Oates slid
pictures of the
victims across the desk. Amanda’s chewed face, Kyle’s headless
body, Jimmy’s contortion in the box and Lucy’s gruesome face. As
Shannahan recoiled, feeling sick, Oates calmly asked him
again.

“
Now, what else could that
picture
look
like?”

Having had a fresh dose of
reality Shann
ahan suddenly became more open.

“
I suppose it kind of
looks like a
doll.”

“
There we go!”
exclaimed Oates
sarcastically. “Perhaps just like the one that vanished from Connor
Williams room. In fact, I already spoke to Doctor MacNamee about
it. He gave me a description of the one that vanished from Connor’s
room, and yes, it’s the same one, or else it’s one hell of a
coincidence.”

Shannahan recoiled a second time after
stealing a quick glance at the photographs grotesquely plastered
over his desk. Standing up, he turned and walked to the large arch
window in his office. Leaning on the frame he peered down to the
street below, his voice steamed up the window slightly as he
talked.

“
So
, let’s say you’re right, what do we
do?”

Oates
sipped his whiskey. The taste was
strong. Shannahan always drank good Scotch but not because of his
own connoisseurial tastes, but because he would scour the Internet
looking for bottles that were highly ranked by those in the know.
Shannahan was always pretentious; he could never tell the
difference between a good whiskey and a bad one, he just liked the
image of buying the expensive ones. Oates, on the other hand,
thought a $20 bottle of whiskey from the liquor store did the same
job as the expensive stuff, and so, he never believed in shelling
out big bucks for it.

“
Right now I’m doing everything
in my power. I’ve got every officer I have on duty patrolling the
streets but I’m afraid that won’t be enough.”

“
Why not?”

“
Because we don’t exactly know
what we’re looking for. I mean, short of seeing Barbie and Ken
walking down the street with a god damned axe in their hands I
don’t know how to stop…whatever they are.”

Despite the fact that both these men were
starting to accept that there may be dolls on the loose which were
capable of murder, they were not as worried as one may think. But
by talking about the creatures in real terms it somehow made it
easier to comprehend their existence. To Shannahan, the fact that
the Sheriff came to him with basic measures to try and catch them
meant they were fallible and therefore less frightening. Like
watching a commercial appeal for cancer or famine, Shannahan was
mostly apathetic to the threat until he came across it himself; it
was only then he would see the true horror of what was hunting
them. Oates-on the other hand- understood all too well now. With a
half dozen bodies in the morgue in a very short space of time Oates
knew he was facing a crisis. The only reason he had not admitted as
much was because he had no countermeasure. He had no definitive
plan at the moment, only more investigation.

“
Well I’m sure it can’t be hard
to figure out what dolls were in the boy’s room before they
vanished?”

“
I don’t
know. I haven’t had a chance to ask
those questions.”

Shannahan
turned around to face the
Sheriff.

“
Well” he
continued “How did they find their
way down to Staunton? I mean, who brought them here?”

“
I don’t
know. The doctor had no real lead on
how the toys left the boys room.”

“
Well, how did they figure
out Andy Williams death wasn’t an accident?”

“
I don’t
know!” Oates replied
forcefully.

Shannahan lost his temper, fizzing like a
shaken soda can.

“
Well what the hell do you know?
You’re supposed to be the Sheriff! Do your damn job and give me
some damn answers!”

Oates s
tood up forcefully, sending his chair
crashing to the ground.

“
I’m doing
my
damn job
Shannahan! Oh and in case you’ve
forgotten, none of this would be happening if you hadn’t interfered
with
my
damn job
.”

“
Then Tony would be heading
to the chair!”

Shannahan was right and Oates knew it. He
would have given anything to go back and change his decision. Never
in a million lifetimes would he have thought that honoring his
promise to his brother would have created a pile of bodies on his
home soil. Shannahan noticed Oates’ thoughtful expression and moved
in to close the case.

“
At the end of the day Stacey,
you’re the Sheriff. You contr
ol the law here not me, this is ultimately your
decision. I’m afraid my hands are clean on this one.”

Shannahan stood smug, proud that he felt
he had been able to deflect responsibility from himself. Oates
pursed his lips and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened
them he took two fast steps towards the mayor and punched him hard
in the face. The impact forced the doughy Shannahan straight the
ground. As he fell he hit his head on the lower window pane causing
a slight crack in the glass and splitting the skin on his forehead.
Standing over him, having vented years of frustration into one
solid punch, Oates proceeded to give him an awful dose of the
reality he faced.

“
You ignorant bastard! See, with
you I never know what to think. You sit here in your little office
with your big window feeling all powerful. You either think I don’t
know or I’m too stupid to know about all the little pies you have
your greasy little fingers in. Let me tell you something Mayor.
Your hands are not clean of anything. They’re dirty. Your hands are
dirty! So don’t stand there and tell me they aren’t! You were right
about one thing though, it was my decision but I can’t change
what’s been done. But I sure as hell can stop it.”

Oates
turned to walk away, leaving
Shannahan with a bleeding forehead and bloody nose. Once Oates’
back was turned the mayor found new confidence.