An Apple for Zoë ~ The Forsaken Page 7

  Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle books rooms 1219, 1220 and 1221 for a weekend celebration of his new multimillion-dollar contract with Producer Adolph Zukor. It's going to be a weekend of good old-fashioned Hollywood style debauchery. A weekend, filled with bootleg booze, broads and wild sex. The September weather is gorgeous. The warm, slight breeze caresses the curtains on the open windows. Voices call to one another between the rooms. The haunting voice of Al Bowlly, singing Midnight, the stars and you, was playing on the Victrola.

  James began to realize he wasn't daydreaming, his attention was turned to the scratchy sounds of an old record playing. He turned and looked down the hallway to room 1219, where the music was coming from. Slowly the door opened. The sound of the music grew louder. A man dressed in a black tuxedo stepped from the doorway of room 1220. His face covered in black make-up with a white mouth, eyes and white gloves. The man looked at James and said nothing as he stepped into room 1219.

  Startled, James looked around. He wondered if someone was trying to play a joke on him. If he hadn't known better, he would have sworn he just saw Al Jolson leave room 1220 and go into room 1219. Standing alone at the end of the hall James called out. "Hello? Mr. Grantham?" Feeling a bit spooked, James turned on his radio and unsnapped his gun. "Hello?" Feeling uncomfortable, he began to walk down the hallway towards the open door of room 1219. As he passed each room, he, could hear hushed laughter, the clinking of champagne glasses, heavy breathing, the sounds of sex. Whispers called to James to join them. Walking closer to room 1219, the whispers became louder. The sound of the music increased, as did the heavy breathing.

  Standing outside the door of room 1219, James tried to collect his thoughts as he listened intently.

  "Midnight, with the stars and you."

  The lights in the hallway began to dim, as the music in the room swelled.

  "Midnight, and a rendezvous"

  No longer able to resist the temptation to look inside room 1219, James pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  "Your eyes held a message tender"

  James strained to adjust his eyes as quickly as he could to the low light. The room was filled with cases of champagne stacked on top of one another, buckets of ice with chilled bottles of Coca-Cola, tables full of food, balloons, and streamers. A banner was pinned over the entrance of the bedroom door, it read,

  "Fuck Her Fatty!"

  The soft glow of chandelier light filled the bedroom entrance, while the music was coming from inside the room. Making his way into the bedroom, James could see the room was filled with people. Standing on a platform table in front of the windows leading to the balcony was Al Bowlly in white tuxedo. His jet-black hair was combed straight back and his eyes sparkled as he sang into the old world microphone.

  "I surrender, all my love to you"

  James moved closer to the center of the room where Jolson was standing at the foot of the bed looking down. The breathing became louder.

  "Midnight, brought us sweet romance"

  Standing next to Jolson was a young Herman Kritzler in his Nazi uniform.

  "I know all my whole life through"

  Working his way closer to the bedside, James saw Amanda Carlyle seated in a chair next to Kritzler. She was holding a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other, her attention on the bed. Standing against the wall was a tall man in pinstriped suit. A diamond lapel pin with initials, W.D.T sparkled in the smoke filled room. He watched emotionlessly with his hands in his pockets. Two women stood flanking him, their arms each hooked through his respectively. One woman was blonde, the other brunette. The blonde was holding a handkerchief to her eyes, dabbing tears. Embroidered on her hankie were the initials, M.M.M. The brunette slowly licked her blood red lips and gasped with pleasure as she listened and watched.

  "I'll be remembering you"

  The sounds of bedsprings strained to the rhythmic thrusts, creating a voice of an invisible chorus that chanted, "Fuck her Fatty!" The breathing and whispers mixed with the velvet tones of Al Bowlly.

  "Whatever else I do"

  James looked to the opposite side of the bed, where another well-dressed handsome man in an all white suit sat in a chair. His elbows rested on the arms of the chair. His long fingers laced together. His olive toned skin glistened from the heat of the bedside passion. Crossing his legs, he remained emotionless as he watched the event on the bed. The man's attention was not like the others. While they were completely focused on the bed, his focus seemed to be on everyone else. He stopped watching everyone long enough to remove a book from his inside pocket. He looked over at James. Acknowledging his presence with a nod, he scribbled a note and suavely returned the book to his pocket. He then resumed his focus back to the others in the room. James pushed his way to the edge of the bed and looked down to see the obese figure grunting and ramming his hips into what James could only imagine would be the petite body of Virginia Rappe.

  "Fuck her Fatty!" bellowed the crowd of voyeurs. "How am I doin Mabel?" grunted Fatty as he continued his relentless sexual assault. The brunette unhooked her arm from the tall gentleman and knelt down next to Fatty and smiled, as she pulled a Coke from the bucket of ice. "You're doing fine Fatty, just fine," replied Mabel in a soft, yet, encouraging tone.

  Standing in the corner alone was the one and only little tramp. His worn bowler hat held up to his mouth. Face, bleached white in stage make-up causing his features to glow in the dim light of the room. His greasepaint Hitler moustache was wet and glistened from perspiration. His teeth chewed and chattered on the rim of his hat as he watched with anticipated ecstasy. "Give him the Coke Mabel, give it to him," he said giggling.

  Screaming in orgasmic grunts the woman began to shout and cry out, "He- he- he's kill-kill-killing me! Plu-pluh- please- muh-muh-make heh-heh- him stuh -stuh stop!"

  James reached out to stop the violation. Kritzler blocked James with his riding crop.

  "Nein! Das Frauline likes it."

  James shoved the riding crop aside and grabbed the meaty shoulder of the man on top of the girl. Pulling him away long enough to see the girl wasn't Virginia Rappe at all, but the sweet love of his youth, Julie Jackson.

  James stood frozen in disbelief and shock. It couldn't be Julie, but in his heart he knew it was her. Those brown eyes staring up at him as they had many times before. Only this time they were pleading and yet ashamed. He looked down at her naked body and could see that like the other victims, Julie also had a tattoo directly over her genitalia. He tried to read it. His eyes widened as he took in the tattooed script. Julie turned her face away and attempted to hide her sex with a bruised forearm. The words read, "The Desolate One"

  CHAPTER NINE

  The Desolate One

  "Help me," whimpered the tiny voice.

  "Help me please," it cried again.

  Lying on the floor James opened his eyes with a sudden start. The dimly lit chandelier glowed above him as he looked up and focused. He now remembered he was in the Arbuckle suite. I must have passed out, James thought to himself, rolling over and grabbing the edge of the bed to help himself stand up. As he pulled himself up his heart leapt—he was face to face with the dead body of Jessalee's sister, Valerie. Her blank eyes stared at James as he stood up. Watching him, her swastika carved forehead glistened from the wet blood, which had slowly dripped down her face, giving the appearance of tears.

  "Puhleese help me," sobbed the tiny voice once again catching James's attention. His head was still in a fog as he tried to gain his wits and find his radio. Reaching down to his hip, it was nowhere to be found. The crying voice called out to him again from what sounded like the next room. Slowly making his way toward the living room, he found he needed to brace himself against the wall. His legs were still not quite ready to cooperate with him. As James looked into the living room he could feel Valerie's dead eyes watching him leave. He half expected it to be her calling out to him. Staggering into the living room James expected to see where the noise was coming from. But the ro
om was empty and still.

  "Hello?" he called.

  "Please help me, please," the tiny voice cried in an innocent tone.

  "Where are you?" called James back.

  "Here!" pleaded the voice, redirecting James' attention to outside the room.

  Moving to the door, he stepped into the hallway. Looking across the hall he noticed the door to room 1223 slightly ajar. Reaching down he found the grip of his gun, which allowed him to regain his confidence. Slowly James stepped across the hall and pushed open the door of room 1223. The room was piled with dead bodies on top of dead bodies. There were easily 12 or 13 people inside the room. Some were on the floor, others were slumped in chairs, more were on the bed. James looked down and saw tiny fingers wiggling underneath the pile of bodies on the floor. His eyes widened as he quickly knelt down to the floor.

  "Oh my god, it's a child," he said as he began to shove the corpses aside to get to the child. Finally he was able to pull to his surprise was a little girl. She sobbed as she threw her arms around his neck.

  "It's okay honey, I got you. It's okay now," he whispered as he held her. Picking her up, she couldn't have been any older than eight years old. James stepped back into the hallway, where he saw his radio on the floor near the door of room 1219. Bending over he quickly snatched it up and radioed for help.

  "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.
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br />   "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.