Inanimate (39 page)

“
Alright thanks, me and
Matthew
will
go over there and see about bringing the family down the station
with us. Poor kid must have been through a lot these last few days,
I hate putting her through any more.”

“
It’s always a shame when
innocents get involved”
stated MacNamee coldly.

“
Anne?” Brian
yelled as he banged on the door
to her parents’ house where Anne was temporarily living. Usually
Brian would be more tactful, but given the circumstances he felt it
was necessary to get a hold of her right away. Anne’s mother came
round from the living room to find out what all the banging was
about; she was unimpressed to see Brian standing there. In their
late fifties, Anne’s parents were hardworking people. Polish
immigrants; they had been in America for 30 years despite their
accents remaining strong. Having taken early retirement, both
Anne’s mother and father were almost always at home, providing a
source of frustration for the perma-horny young Brian.

“
Brian, what are you doing
here?”

“
I need to speak to Anne”
he
said,
flustered.

“
She
is upstairs doing study, her College
tests are coming up you know.”

“
Yes Mrs. Sharpova I
know, I just need to
speak to her for a little bit”

The strong old
wom
an looked
at Brian with contempt, she had never thought him good enough for
her daughter, and now he was at her door making a nuisance of
himself, and she could smell the liquor on his breath. She would
permit him to speak with her, but only briefly and
only
under her
watch.

“
Ok…
I’ll fetch her.”

The old lady
started walking up the stairs.
At the speed she moved this whole situation could be over with by
the time she got to the top but Brian waited patiently. Once she
had turned at the top of the stairs, out of sight, Brian turned to
the detectives.

“
Do you think her parents
will be
alright?”

Graham
looked at the analytical Murdoch for
an answer.

“
I think so
…No-one else’s parents were
attacked; I don’t see why she would be any different. But just to
be sure, maybe you should tell your girlfriend to send them
somewhere out of the way for a while.”

“
Ok” Brian
said as Anne came down the
stairs, followed slowly by her mother.

“
Brian, what
are you doing here?”

“
I need to talk to you…”
he
noticed
her mother’s gaze “outside”.

Anne’s appearance
was classically
Polish, her fair skin and blonde hair gave her away. She stepped
outside and closed the door, which did nothing to dissuade her
mother who pulled back the lace curtain on the glass door to peer
scornfully at Brian. Feeling her gaze, Anne stepped in front of her
mother’s line of sight. It was clear Brian could not focus while
she was watching him.

“
What’s going on Brian? I thought
we agreed not to see each other anymore.”

“
Ok, first
of all, I didn’t agree to that.
But more importantly, I’m here to save you”

“
Have you been drinking
Brian?”

“
Just a little” he
said “But you have
to listen to me here, there are dolls, they are coming to life and
killing people.”

Anne
scoffed “Get real! I’ve heard the
rumors too, my parents have told me old stories about dolls coming
to life for years, but that’s all they are Brian, stories! And who
are
these
guys?”

The two detectives
d
idn’t say
anything. Brian introduced them.

“
They’re cops from the city;
they’re here to catch the dolls.”

Anne
rolled her eyes.

“
Seriously guys, who
are you?”

“
You said it yourself. It’s
not a coincidence that the people who died had something to do with
Andy Williams.”

“
Yeah I did say that, but I
didn’t say it was dolls what did it!”

Anne paused a moment. Her mood
softened.

“
I’m sorry about Earl. Why
didn’t you come talk to me about it.”

Brian looked awkward.

“
You said you didn’t want to
see me.”

“
But still Brian…this is
different…”

Graham glanced at Murdoch; this was no
time for romance. Murdoch stepped forward.

“
He’s telling the truth miss,
about everything, we
are from the city and we are here to stop these things. But
more importantly we need you to come with us for your own safety
and for the safety of those around you.”

“
You’re serious?”

Anne
looked directly at Murdoch who
responded somberly:

“
I’m afraid so
miss.”

“
Christ almighty! Hold on I’ll
get my jacket
.”

“
You might want to tell your
parents to go somewhere too?”

“
My parents?
What have they got to do with
this?”

“
It’s
just a precaution miss” Graham
interrupted “We think they would be safer somewhere else for a few
days. Does either one of them have a friend or a relative they
could stay with?”

“
Sure”

Anne
spoke slowly, clearly biting back her
frustration. Anne entered the house; the men could hear her
speaking to her parents in Polish. The conversation got heated and
yelling started. After a minute, Anne came out looking
annoyed.

“
They’re going to stay with my
aunt, she
lives in the city.”

“
How did you convince them so
fast?” Brian
asked.

“
They believe this stuff a lot
more than I do” Anne
retorted as she headed towards the car.

From the window in the living
room
, Mrs.
Sharpova watched her daughter leave. She knew she would have to go
up and pack a few things soon. A figure stepped out from the
kitchen behind her. She did not see Dummy, but Dummy saw
her.

Mayor Hugh Shannahan
sat in his office
looking over some forms. The sight of a day’s work had never
appealed to him and he would take any excuse not to do it, even if
that excuse was simple procrastination. Huffing and puffing his way
through signing forms and reading documents he decided he needed a
coffee to keep him alert. Leaning across the desk he buzzed the
intercom to his assistant.

“
Yes Sir?”

“
Margie, could you make me a
coffee sweetheart?”

“
Ok Hugh”

“
Black honey, I don’t want cream
today.”

Margie
was secretly convinced he changed the
way he took his coffee daily just to hassle her.

“
Ok Hugh.”

“
There’s a good
girl.”

His last comment reminded her how sexist
and patronizing he was, God how she hated him. She said and felt
everything about him in secret, gutless to stand up to the man who
had been nothing but a pig to her for years. On her way to the
break room she wondered why people couldn’t see through him, to his
core, made up of deceit and a love of cheap suits. Pouring the
coffee from the percolator she fantasized about telling him off,
telling him what a lowlife he was, but really she knew it would
only serve to get her fired from the only job she knew how to do.
Shannahan worked his letters, realizing he could triple his
productivity by using his “approved” stamp instead of signing
everything. Really, he should have known this wasn’t a good idea as
he would have to sign anything official, especially anything
related to the release of town funds, but for now logic didn’t get
a look in. He was just happy stamping. After a few minutes of
stamping action, Shannahan couldn’t help but notice he was
coffee-less. He buzzed the intercom again. After a few buzzes
someone picked up.

“
Hello?” a scratchy feminine
voice came down the line.

“
Margie?”

“…
Yes?” came the response through
muffled laughter.

“
Who
is this?”

“
It’s
Margie
silly!”

The voice
broke into laughter and started’
making kissing noises down the line until Shannahan hung up. The
mayor was scared; he didn’t know who was on the intercom but after
his conversation with Oates, he was not overly excited to find out.
Staring across the room in fear, he watched the door for any signs
of something coming in. He slowly picked up the phone and tried to
call the Sheriff.

“
Shit!” he
uttered quietly.

He couldn’t remember the number for an
outside line. A couple of days ago, in an effort to save a few
pennies, he got a guy from the phone company to put a block on all
outside lines. A block that could only be broken by a code that
only he knew. Stupidly, he decided not to make the code something
simple like his birthday or his wife’s birthday and he couldn’t
remember his anniversary off hand so he made up a number and wrote
it down. But now he couldn’t remember where he kept it. Even
emergency numbers had to be unlocked with this number.

“
Block ALL outgoing
numbers!”
he
specifically remembered telling the man from the phone company. The
phone guy didn’t think it was legal to block 911 but he was talking
to the mayor, surely the mayor must have known better than him.
Shannahan pulled out a drawer by his desk, removed a 9mm handgun
and kept it aimed at the door. When he chose the weapon for his
drawer, he decided a clip-loaded 9mm was a better idea than a
classic six-shooter (though the six-shooter would have added a
Clint Eastwood style touch to his office that he would had loved).
No, he had seen too many movies where the guy with the six-shooter
died first after dropping the bullets in a hasty attempt to reload.
He also remembered seeing movies where the shooter missed his
target six times and had to put himself in a dangerously
time-consuming situation while he reloaded. These were the kind of
scenarios Shannahan pondered in his days where his mind would
wander. If you asked Margie, those days were called weekdays. After
all, (he thought) what’s the point of keeping a gun in your desk if
you can’t actually picture it saving your life if you ever had to
use it? No, Shannahan had a 9mm berretta, fifteen round clip. No
silly single bullet loading for him. A drop of Dutch courage was
all he needed to step out of his office now. Getting up from his
desk he crab-walked over to the Scotch display, keeping both eyes
on the door as he did so. With his free hand he removed the top
from the crystal decanter and swigged the Scotch straight from it.
Now that he was alone, he turned his nose up at the product, the
taste being too strong for him. Oates was right about Shannahan’s
pretentious ways. He took a couple more swigs of the light brown
liquid, turned his nose up some more and headed towards the door.
As he grasped the handle with his fingers-the bulk of his hand
still on the neck of the decanter-he considered other escape
options. He could try and escape through the window, but the main
part didn’t open, he would have to smash it. Then he would have to
figure out a way to land safely from a four-story drop because,
despite his little alcohol buzz, he would never be brave enough to
attempt to climb down the face of a building. That was it. One
office, two exits; one exit being the window. So really his only
option was the door. With his sloppy posture, Shannahan would have
been a poor addition to Oates’ police squad. He proved this as he
opened the door, gun pointed from his hip. The attached office
where Margie normally sat was empty. There was no sign of an
intruder at all. But then, there was no sign of Margie either.
Shannahan moved over to Margie’s desk. He always forgot to bring
his cell phone to work but he knew Margie never did, he was always
catching her texting or calling friends. When he opened the desk
drawer he quickly found it, sitting on top of her files ready for
him to use.

“
Margie!”

H
e called out; bothered by the fact she was
wasting time at work. He lifted the phone up and skulked back into
his office with it, closing the door firmly behind him. No sooner
had the door closed when Basket whacked the decanter in his hand
with a full bottle of Scotch from the shelf in his office. The
decanter shattered, cutting Shannahan’s hand badly, causing him to
throw his arms up. As he reeled in pain he accidentally fired off a
round. Quickly, Basket jumped up onto his back, grabbed his gun arm
and pulled it down hard. Shannahan was slammed into the ground arm
first, causing him more pain than his tubby little body had ever
experienced. Giggling, Basket dusted shards of glass off his hands
as Shannahan lay on the floor, winded and bleeding. The gunshot
echoed throughout the building and even onto the street, people
outside wondered where it came from but no one could pinpoint a
location. The clown picked up the gun and tossed it from hand to
hand like a toy. Shannahan started to cry, pleading for his life as
he did so.