Mystery of the Marsh Diamonds ( 1 )

The Adventures of
Toby Robin O'Keefe

- THE FEAST OF ALL SAINTS -

Prologue

The old farmhouse had stood, abandoned and ignored, on the outskirts of Greendale for many years. Once it had been the center of a thriving horse breeding operation which collapsed after a devastating fire destroyed most of the stables. Unable to either rebuild his business or find a buyer for his property, the owner simply walked away, leaving the house to fall into disrepair.

If anyone had taken the time to drive up the old, overgrown dirt road off Highway 149, they would have noticed something unusual about the old house: a light shining in an upstairs window.

Inside the house, a sharp-faced man in a dark suit showed a succession of photographs to an old woman sitting bundled up in an easy chair. The term “old” may not be sufficient to do the woman justice; “ancient” may well be a more suitable term. Her hair had gone through gray and silver to pure white; even her wrinkles had wrinkles.

Lars Beckert held the next photograph in the stack before the old woman, silently counted to five, then switched to the next. She gave no sign that she took any notice of the pictures. Lars began to wonder if she’d fallen asleep, and if he’d wasted the afternoon he’d spent outside the school, snapping roll after roll of film, and then developing the pictures himself in the dark lab he’d set up downstairs.

“Wait.” Just that one word, spoken in an indeterminate eastern European accent. So she was awake after all.

A bony forefinger lifted from the blanket covering the woman’s lap, pointing at the photograph in Lars’ hand. “There. In the middle. She is the one.”

“Are you sure, Madame?” Lars asked.

“Yes. I am certain. She is the one. I can feel it.”

“Very well, Madame.”

The old woman’s eyes closed, and her hand sank back to the blanket. “Soon,” she said softly. “It must be done soon.”

“As soon as possible, Madame,” Lars reassured her. “As soon as possible.” He inspected the picture, committing the girl’s features to memory. He needed to memorize her face, because she was dressed the same as the other girls in the picture, the same as every girl he watched that afternoon – a white blouse with a Peter Pan collar, a red pullover sweater, a red-and-gray plaid jumper, white knee socks, and black shoes.

Chapter 1

It was a cold and wet afternoon in late October. A light rain fell as Toby Robin O’Keefe and Terry Blair hurried across the Sacred Heart Elementary schoolyard towards their bicycles. Without warning, Toby stopped short. “Look,” she said, pointing at the parking area. “Isn’t that Denny’s car?”

“Yep, it sure is,” Terry confirmed. Sometimes, not very often, but sometimes, Terry’s brother gave the girls a ride home from school. “Very nice of him. Let’s go!”

The two sped toward the waiting vehicle. As they got closer, though, Terry slowed her pace. “He’s got Alexandria with him,” she said, a hint of contempt creeping into her voice.

Toby looked closer. There, indeed, in the front passenger seat, sat Dennis’ girlfriend, Alexandria Hannover. He’d been dating her for the past couple of weeks. The nicest thing Terry had said about Alexandria during that time was “stuck up.” From what Toby had seen and heard, that was at least partly true, although she suspected Terry was more than a little jealous.

Terry shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, well, it’s better than getting wet, I guess. Barely.” She strode to the car and opened the rear door on the driver’s side. “Hi, Dennis!” she said brightly, obviously determined to put the best face on the situation, but equally obviously making no attempt to greet Alexandria.

Dennis turned around in his seat. “Terry, Toby, hi!” he said. “Um ... I’m sorry, but I’m really not here to pick you two up.”

“You’re not?” Terry sounded incredulous. “Then why are you here?”

“We’re here to pick up my sister,” Alexandria explained, “Then we’re going shopping at Bainbury’s. We need to get some stuff for Halloween.” She spoke as one would to a small child. Like Toby had surmised, she was wearing the Sacred Heart High School girl’s uniform – a gray long-sleeved sweater over a white blouse, a short, pleated maroon skirt, gray knee socks, and black shoes.

“Your sister?” This was the first Toby or Terry had heard of Alexandria having a sister.

“There she is!” Alexandria said, hastily rolling down her window. “Vicky! Over here!”

A young girl in the Sacred Heart Elementary uniform hurried over. Toby remembered seeing her in the eighth grade classes. There was a definite family resemblance between her and Alexandria, although Vicky’s features looked softer, more pleasant, than her older sisters’.

Vicky approached the car, then hesitated, eyeing Toby and Terry uncertainly. “Vicky, get in the car. Now.” Alexandria commanded.

Her tone brooked no disobedience or delay. “Excuse me, please,” Vicky murmured, brushing past Terry and sliding into the car’s back seat. Meanwhile, Terry kept staring at her brother, who looked increasingly uncomfortable under her gaze.

“Er ... would you like to go shopping with us?” Dennis offered weakly. Terry looked as enthusiastic as if she’d just been served a heaping plate of lima beans.

“In or out, but shut the door! It’s getting cold in here!” Alexandria snarled.

That decided things. Terry slammed the car door. “I hope your stupid car breaks down – again!” she flung over her shoulder as she stomped off. Toby, hurrying to catch up, didn’t see Dennis start the car and drive away. Nor did she notice a black sedan pull out of a side street and follow.

Chapter 2

Despite Terry’s ill wishes, Dennis made it to Bainbury’s Department Store without suffering any mechanical misadventures. Inside the store, Dennis and Alexandria waited more or less patiently (Dennis more, Alexandria less) outside the costume department until Vicky emerged with a full shopping bag. “It’s about time!” Alexandria grumped.

“What costume did you decide on?” Dennis asked.

“Mary Marvel,” replied Vicky, naming the famed superheroine.

“Really? Great! You’ll look really cute in that outfit,” Dennis said.

“Thanks!” Vicky, unaccustomed to the compliment, visibly brightened. “Um ... aren’t you two going to get any costumes?”

“We already have ours,” Alexandria responded. “I’m going to be Cleopatra!”

“What a surprise,” Vicky muttered, just loud enough for Dennis to hear. He turned to stare at her, and she started to blush. Then he winked, and got a grin in return.

“Well,” Dennis announced, “I’m going to be an invader from the planet Zagon,” referring to the latest science fiction movie in which bug-eyed aliens landed on Earth to abduct human damsels. Slipping into his character, he grabbed Alexandria by the arm and tossed her over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry (just as a Zagonian had done to the hero’s girlfriend in the film).

“Dennis! Put me down! Put me down this instant!” Alexandria demanded, kicking frantically and flailing around with her free arm. Despite her protests, Dennis kept the helpless girl in position a few seconds longer before reluctantly returning her to her feet.
“Ooo!” she sputtered, hastily smoothing her skirt back down into place. “Dennis Blair, you … you … you … JERK! We’re leaving, now!” And, without another word, she stormed off.

Dennis turned to Vicky and raised his hands, palms upward, in the classic “I give up” gesture. Vicky, meanwhile, had her hand over her mouth, poorly concealing her delight at seeing her regal sister treated in such an undignified manner. Between Alexandria’s indignation, and Dennis’ and Vicky’s amusement, no one noticed the sharp-faced man in the dark suit who’d been standing nearby, ostensibly windowshopping, make his way into the costume department.

Chapter 3

The bad weather cleared off, and Halloween turned out unseasonably warm. As dusk fell, Toby donned her modified Sherlock Holmes costume (consisting of deerstalker cap, magnifying glass, short cape, brown blazer over a white blouse, brown-and-gold plaid kilt, brown knee socks, and black MaryJanes) and headed over to Terry’s house.

Mrs. Blair answered the door. “Oh, Toby, you’re just in time. Terry’s just about ready.” She turned and shouted down the hall. “Terry? Toby’s here!”

“I’m not going!” Terry answered from somewhere within the house.

“Oh, come on, dear, you look adorable!” Mrs. Blair called back. “Tell her she looks adorable,” she asided to Toby. “Honey? Come on out.”

There was an audible sigh, then a steady click, click, click, click, gradually getting louder, before Terry came into view. Toby just barely kept from doubling over with laughter.

Her hair done up in curls and ringlets, Terry wore a very short pink dress with lots of lace and ruffles, frilly white ankle socks, and white tap shoes (which accounted for the clicking). “Jeeps ... Terry ... you ... look ... adorable,” Toby managed to gasp out between chuckles.

“Mom, do I have to wear this?” Terry asked plaintively, looking up at her mother.

“Oh, sweetie, you look fine! Go on, have a good time.” And Mrs. Blair shut the door, leaving both girls outside.

Terry gave another heartfelt sigh. “Go ahead and laugh, Toby.”

“I’m sorry, Terry,” Toby replied, trying very hard to keep her amusement under control.

“No, go ahead. I know I look ridiculous.”

“No, no, you don’t! You look really ... really ... cute.”

Terry mustered up a half-hearted grin. “Thanks, Toby. It was my mom’s idea. I wanted to be Isadora Duncan, but she insisted on Shirley Temple.”

“Well, I bet you get lots of candy. C’mon, let’s go.”

As the girls headed towards the sidewalk, a car pulled up to the curb. Alexandria and Vicky Hannover, both wearing their Halloween outfits, climbed out. “Oh, jeeps,” Terry said. “She’s the last person I want to see now.”

“Nice, um, costumes,” Alexandria said with a smirk. “Is Denny around? After we drop Vicky here off at her little party, he’s taking me to the Sacred Heart High dance.” This was the first time Toby had heard Alexandria refer to Dennis as “Denny”, and she wasn’t at all sure she liked it.

“I, uh, haven’t seen him lately,” Terry said, uncomfortably avoiding meeting Alexandria’s gaze.

“Oh, here he is now,” Vicky said.

Around the corner of the garage came Dennis, in his full Zagonian regalia. “It’s about time you showed up –“ Alexandria started, but he brushed by her, scooped up Vicky in a fireman’s carry, and headed back the way he’d come. Vicky apparently thought Dennis was pulling one of his pranks, and other than a brief “Ooo!” when he picked her up, showed no other reaction. The last anyone saw of her was her bare legs and knee-high boots, dangling down as Dennis carried her away.

“Very funny, Dennis, now bring her back!” Alexandria called after them. “Dennis? Come on, we’re going to be late! Dennis!”

Just then, the Blair’s front door opened and Dennis stepped out. He’d removed his alien mask and tucked it under one arm. “I’m right here, what’s all the fuss about?” he asked.

“Dennis ...” Alexandria sounded extremely exasperated. “We don’t have time for this. Where is she?”

“Where’s who?”

“You know very well who. Vicky!”

Dennis got a confused look on his face. “I haven’t seen her. Didn’t she come with you?”

“Dennis, stop kidding around! We’re going to miss the costume contest!”

“Alexandria, please! I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Yes, you do! You came around that corner a couple of minutes ago, grabbed Vicky, and carried her away! Now, where’d you take her?”

“What?”

“You heard me!” Behind them, a black sedan drove slowly down the street.

“Alexandria, I didn’t do it! I’ve been inside all this time ...”

Something had been bothering Toby throughout the whole exchange. She closed her eyes and tried to picture Dennis as he’d been carrying Vicky away. Something had changed ... his mask? No, that was identical. His suit? No, nothing different there. His hands?

Bingo ringo! “Dennis,” she asked, “what happened to your gloves?”

“What? What gloves?” he replied, startled by the interruption.

“When you picked up Vicky, you were wearing black leather gloves,” Toby stated.

Dennis, completely bewildered by now, threw up his hands in despair. “Toby, I don’t even own a pair of black leather gloves!”

“I’ve never seen him wear any,” Terry chipped in.

“Then Dennis wasn’t the one who took Vicky,” Toby concluded. “But ... who did?”

“Are ... are you sure about the gloves?” Alexandria asked, her voice quavering.

Toby nodded. “If she says she saw it, she saw it,” Dennis confirmed.

“Oh, my God! Vicky! Where are you? Vicky? Vicky!” Alexandria was rapidly becoming hysterical.

“Calm down, calm down, we’ll find her,” Dennis soothed. He turned to the two younger girls. “Which way did they go?”

But, although the police were called and the neighborhood thoroughly canvassed, no sign of Mary Marvel or the imposter alien could be found.

Meanwhile, on the edge of town, the black sedan pulled up outside the old farmhouse. Lars Beckert, still in his Zagonian costume, climbed out. He opened the trunk and lifted out a limp figure clad in scarlet, white, and gold. Tossing her lightly over his shoulder, he carried the unconscious girl into the house.

Chapter 4

The next day, All Saints Day, dawned crisp, clear, and cold. Definitely a sweater day, Toby thought as she dressed for school.

Sacred Heart Elementary was abuzz with the news of last night’s kidnapping. Toby spent most of her day, it seemed, fending off inquiries from Margaret Wade, her chief rival in the junior detective field, about what she’d seen, what the kidnapper looked like, what clues she’d been able to uncover, and so on …

“Jeeps, I’m glad today’s over,” Toby remarked to Terry as they headed for their bicycles after the final bell.

“Me, too,” Terry agreed. “Do you mind if we stop at the market on the way home? Mom asked me to get some bread ‘n’ milk ‘n’ stuff.”

“Sure, let’s go!”

Terry’s purchases didn’t take long. A row of pay phones stood along the exterior wall of the market. As the girls left the store, Lars Beckert finished his call, hung up the phone, and made his way towards his black sedan.

“So what do you think we should do for our history project … what?” Terry asked, noticing Toby’s intent stare.

“That man,” Toby replied, indicating Lars with a nod of her head. “He’s wearing gloves just like the man who kidnapped Vicky wore.”

“Are you sure?”

Toby glared at Terry.

“Yeah, okay, dumb question. So should we call the police or something?”

“And do what, tell them we saw a man wearing gloves? We’ll have to do better than that. C’mon, let’s follow him.”

“Toby …” Terry was understandably reluctant. Following a suspected bad guy had gotten them in deep more than once.

“Look, it’ll be okay,” Toby persuaded. “We’ll stay way back so he doesn’t see us, and as soon as we get any hard evidence, we’ll call the police. I promise.”

“Okay,” Terry sighed. The pair hopped on their bicycles and set off in pursuit of the black sedan.

Lars, glancing in his rear-view mirror, noted the two girls emerge from the parking lot. Those kids are from the same school as the brat I snatched yesterday, he thought. I wonder if that’s just a coincidence.

Several blocks later, when they were still behind him and obviously maintaining the same distance, he began to suspect that they were up to something. By the time he got to where he usually pulled onto Highway 149, and they were still following, he was sure of it.

The girls wouldn’t be able to follow him on the highway, so he took back roads to his destination. Lars was able to keep his speed down and his pursuers in sight. As he drove up the narrow, tree-lined lane to the old farmhouse, he kept a close eye on the rear-view mirror. He saw the two reach the exit off the road, hesitate ever so slightly, then continue on past.

Toby rode a short distance past the dirt road that the black sedan had taken before guiding her bicycle to the shoulder of the main road and climbing off. “C’mon, we can stash our bikes here,” she said to Terry, indicating some scrub brush. Keeping to the trees, the two girls made their way to the old house.

“There’s his car,” Toby said, seeing the black sedan parked outside the building.

“Toby ... can we go now?” Terry asked nervously.

“No, not yet. We still don’t have any real evidence. I wish there was some way to get a look inside that house.”

“I think that can be arranged,” said a voice from behind them.

Both girls whirled around. There stood the man in the dark suit. In one of his black-leather-gloved hands was a small, yet deadly-looking pistol ... pointed directly at them.

Chapter 5

“No funny moves,” Lars instructed, “and keep your hands up where I can see them.”

Terry’s hands shot up immediately. Toby raised hers slowly, reluctantly.

“Okay, turn around and march!” Lars went on, gesturing with the pistol.

“Wh-where are you taking us?” Terry asked.

“You wanted to see inside the house, didn’t you? We’re going inside the house,” Lars replied. Where did she think he was taking them? Silly little girl ...

Lars herded the two inside the house and into a darkened room. As Toby’s eyes adjusted to the dim light seeping in through the drawn curtains, she made out a bunch of rags piled on an overstuffed chair.

“Madame?” Lars cleared his throat. “Madame? Madame!”

The pile of rags stirred. Toby realized it was actually an old woman – although “old” wasn’t really an apt description. This woman would have made Miss Twilly look like a teenager. <see "The Menace of the Minotaur">

“What do you want?” the old woman asked. Toby couldn’t identify her accent.

“I found these two snooping around outside, Madame,” Lars explained. “What would you like me to do with them?”

“Bring them closer,” the old woman demanded. Lars dutifully ushered the two girls closer to the chair. “That one is suitable. You may use her,” the old woman said of Terry before focusing her attention on Toby. “Bah, peasant stock. Dispose of her as you will.”

“Very good, Madame,” Lars replied. “This way, you two,” he said, escorting his captives out of the room.

“Tonight. It must be tonight,” the old woman called after them.

“It shall be, Madame,” Lars shouted over his shoulder.

Toby and Terry preceded Lars down a flight of stairs to the basement of the old farmhouse. He stopped outside a bolted door with a six-inch-square spyhole centered in the upper half. “Stand against the wall, there, and don’t move – don’t even think about it,” he cautioned as he noticed Toby eyeing the distance to the staircase. “You heard what the old lady said. You’re disposable. Behave yourself, or I’ll dispose of you right now.”

Both girls obediently stood still, their hands in the air. Lars kept a watchful eye on them as he opened the spyhole. “I’m coming in. You know the drill.”

“Just a minute,” came faintly from behind the door. Toby strained to identify the speaker. Was it Vicky? She couldn’t be sure. She heard a loud click, then the sound of something hitting the door, then the voice said, “Okay, I’m ready.”

“That’s much better,” Lars replied, throwing the bolt and opening the door. He reached down and scooped up a key ring with a single key attached off the floor before motioning with the pistol. “Inside.”

Toby led Terry through the doorway. She found herself in a small room, lit by a naked bulb hanging down from a wire overhead, with another door in the opposite wall. In the center of the room was a bed with a metal bedstead. Seated on the bed, one wrist handcuffed to the bedstead, still wearing her Mary Marvel costume, was Vicky Hannover. Her eyes widened as she saw the two Sacred Heart girls.

“I brought you some company,” Lars smirked. He tossed the key ring onto the bed. “I’ll let you get acquainted. Don’t go anywhere, okay?” With that, he left the room. All three girls flinched at the sounds of the door slamming shut and the bolt sliding home.

Chapter 6

Vicky used the key on the key ring to unlock her handcuffs. “So, did you two get kidnapped, too?” she asked while massaging her wrist.

“Well, not exactly,” Toby explained. “I thought I recognized, er ...” (she realized she didn’t know his name) “that man from yesterday, so we followed him to see if he’d lead us to you. But he got behind us somehow and surprised us with the gun, and, well, here we are.”

“Wow,” Vicky said. She looked closer at Terry. “You’re Dennis’ sister, aren’t you? I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“I’m Terry, and this is Toby.”

“It’s short for Tobia,” Toby clarified, seeing Vicky’s confused expression.

“Oh. Did he take you to meet the old woman?”

“Yes.” Terry shuddered at the memory. “I don’t know who’s creepier, him or her. She ... she said I was ‘suitable’.”

“Really?” Vicky asked. “That’s the same thing she said about me.” She cast an inquiring look over at Toby.

“I, uh, ... wasn’t ‘suitable’, I guess,” Toby said, not willing to repeat the “peasant stock” label.

“Yes, but ... what are we ‘suitable’ for?” Vicky pondered.

“I don’t know. Neither one of them said,” Terry replied. “Whatever it is, though, it’s supposed to happen tonight.”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Vicky concluded. She patted the bed next to her. “Might as well make yourselves comfortable. There’s a bathroom through there, in case you need it.” She indicated the inner doorway.

Terry took the invited seat. Toby decided to check out the room a bit more first. She inspected the door. It opened outward, and there was no knob or anything on the inside. She peered in between the door and the frame; a flange on the outside covered the crack, effectively defeating any attempt to poke something through from inside and raise the bolt. She then probed the spyhole, but that too was securely latched shut.

After a few moments of watching Toby’s fruitless attempts, Vicky asked, “Is ... is Dennis always like that?”

“Like what?” Terry asked in reply.

“Teasing, pulling pranks, stuff like that.”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, he pretty much is.”

Vicky shook her head. “It just doesn’t make any sense, him getting together with my sister. They’re so ... different.”

“They sure are!” Terry agreed.

“Well, they probably won’t last too much longer. Alexandria goes through boyfriends pretty quickly. She’s determined to find someone who will worship her the way she feels she ought to be worshipped.”

“Well, she is sort of ... sort of ...” Terry searched for a diplomatic term.

“Stuck up?” Vicky finished for her.

“Er ... yeah.” Terry tried not to blush.

“It’s okay,” Vicky reassured the younger girl. “I know how she is. I’ve been living with her for thirteen years. She’s probably home celebrating right now.”

“No, Vicky, she’s not,” Terry responded. “She got really upset when we figured out you’d been kidnapped. She didn’t want to stop looking for you. Your mom and dad had to force her to go home with them.”

“Really? She did? Wow. I mean ... wow.” Vicky fell silent, obviously re-evaluating her relationship with her sister.

Toby, meanwhile, had given up on the door. She scanned the rest of the room; no windows or vents. She headed into the bathroom; seconds later, she shouted, “Terry! Vicky! Come here, quick!”

The other two captives leapt off the bed and raced into the bathroom. “What is it?” Terry asked.

Toby pointed at some boards nailed to the wall above the sink. “There may be a window behind those boards. If we can pry them loose, maybe we can get out that way. Here, give me a hand up.”

Vicky and Terry helped Toby clamber atop the sink. Balanced precariously, Toby reached up and grasped the lowest board. “It’s nailed in pretty tight,” she said. “Is there anything we can use as a lever?”

“Nothing in here,” Vicky said after a quick look around. “Let me go check the other room.” While she did, Toby pulled and strained at the board. Terry looked on, anxious for her friend’s safety.

In about a minute, Vicky returned, shaking her head. “I looked all over, even under the bed. There’s nothing we can use.”

“Well,” Toby replied, “I think I loosened it a little.” She yanked with all her strength, only to have her hand slip off and nearly fall off her perch, regaining her balance at the last second.

“Let me try it,” Vicky said. She and Terry assisted Toby down off the sink, then the older girl climbed up. “You did loosen it, all right. I might be able to pull it loose.”

Toby and Terry watched Vicky’s efforts closely. The gap between the board and the wall steadily widened until the nails on one edge pulled loose entirely. “I got it!” Vicky yelled triumphantly, leaning around to peer behind the board ... then she sagged in disappointment, resting her head against the wall.

“What is it?” Terry asked. “Is there a window?”

“Yeah, there is,” Vicky replied dejectedly. “And it’s – it’s been bricked up. We can’t get out that way.”

Chapter 7

Vicky crawled down off the sink and led the younger two girls into the main room. “Well, at least we tried,” Terry said, trying to put the best face on things.

“That’s right,” Toby concurred.

“So what do we do now?” Vicky asked, still disconsolate.

“I ... I guess we wait,” Toby said after a minute’s thought. “Try to rest, and look for another chance to escape.”

They all took seats on the bed. No one felt much like talking. Time dragged by until they heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs and approaching the door. The spyhole opened, and Lars peered through.

“Good, you’re all still here,” he said sarcastically. He tossed two sets of handcuffs through the spyhole. “I need to come inside. You know what to do with these.”

Vicky very quickly went to the set of cuffs that was attached to the bed and snapped the free end around one wrist. She picked up the key ring and tossed it over to the door. “You ... you need to handcuff yourselves to the bed too,” she informed Toby and Terry.

Terry looked uncertainly at Toby, who stood still, her arms crossed.

“I’d hurry up if I were you,” Lars said, an undertone of anger creeping into his voice.

“Please, do what he says,” Vicky begged. “If you don’t, he ... well, he’s not very nice.”

Slowly, begrudgingly, Toby picked up one of the sets of handcuffs, fastened one end to the bedstead, and locked the other around a wrist. Terry followed her example.

“Good choice,” Lars said, throwing the bolt and opening the door. As he entered the room, Terry threw a worried glance at the bathroom. Lars noted the direction of her gaze, and went to see what she was looking at. He carefully inspected the loose board before going back into the main room.

“One of you,” he said sternly, “has been a very naughty little girl. If it weren’t that I have other things to do right now, I’d teach you a good lesson.” He noted their expressions; the costumed girl and the blonde looked suitably distressed, while the four-eyed one stared back at him defiantly. If I was a betting man, he thought, I’d bet that the escape attempt was her idea. But I only gamble on sure things – like what’s about to happen.

“Fortunately for you,” he continued, “I do have other things to do right now.” He surveyed the three; better take the oldest one first. Staying as far as he could from the other two, he used the key ring to unlock Vicky’s handcuffs. Quickly stepping behind the unsuspecting girl, he whipped the pre-treated cloth out of his coat pocket and crammed it over her mouth and nose, wrapping his other arm around her waist. He bodily lifted her and dragged her as far away from the bed as he could.

“MMMPH! MMMPH!” she squealed through the cloth, thrashing around and violently shaking her head from side to side. She probably remembers the smell from last night, Lars thought, tightening his grip. The other girls were straining at their handcuffs, trying to reach him, and shouting silly things like “Stop it!” and “Leave her alone!” Like he’d listen to them ... and two little girls weren’t going to be able to move that heavy bed (one reason he’d chosen it).

In a matter of seconds, Vicky’s struggles weakened; a few seconds more, and they ceased altogether. Lars kept the cloth in place for a while longer, just to make sure she wasn’t playing possum, before lowering her to the ground. He checked her pulse and pupils; she’d be unconscious for a while ... long enough for his purposes, anyway.

He turned his attention to the other two. “Well,” he remarked casually, “I seem to have lost the element of surprise ... but then, I don’t really need it, do I?” Four-Eyes was trying to keep a stiff upper lip, but he could see some cracks in her façade. Blondie, on the other hand, looked like she was about to pass out anyway. So much the better; he’d take care of her next.

Keeping his eyes fixed on hers, he advanced slowly. Terry backed away as far as her handcuffs would allow, whimpering, “No ... no, please ... please, don’t ...”

With a last rush, he grabbed her around the waist and scooped her up, pressing the cloth against her face. Toby launched herself at him, trying to pull her friend free, but he stepped as far away from her as he could, turning to use Terry as a shield. Already her feeble struggles were weakening; he could tell this wasn’t going to take long.

Toby landed a solid kick to his shin. As the pain shot up his leg, he stumbled momentarily and almost dropped the girl before recovering. He watched Toby more carefully and managed to avoid further damage, meanwhile keeping up the pressure with the cloth. After a few more seconds, Terry hung limp in his arms. To get her out of the way, he lifted her over the bedstead and placed her on the bed.

Now it was just him and Toby. The pain in his leg fed his anger, and just for a moment he strongly considered teaching her that lesson after all. Then his reason reasserted itself, and he calmed down. He was on a pretty tight time schedule and couldn’t afford any delay right now.

“Your turn,” he said curtly, advancing again. He almost laughed when she put up her fists and assumed some sort of boxing stance. He watched her hands and feet carefully. When, as he anticipated, she kicked out at him, he sidestepped deftly, got behind her, and applied the cloth.

She shut her mouth tight and held her breath, doing her best to keep the noxious fumes out of her lungs. “Nice deep breath,” Lars urged. Toby shook her head wildly, both to tell him no and to try to dislodge the cloth. “Be a good little girl, and take a breath,” he went on, keeping up the pressure as she kicked and wriggled in his arms.

Again she shook her head. Her resistance was really starting to annoy him. “I said, breathe!” he commanded, clamping down hard with the arm around her waist. The air whooshed out of her. He kept her in the bear hug for a few more seconds, ignoring her frantic struggles, before loosening his grip. Instinctively, she inhaled deeply, getting a lungful of sleep-inducing chemicals as well as life-giving air.

“That’s it,” Lars encouraged as he felt her weakening. “It’s almost over now. Just relax and go to sleep.” Then he started crooning, softly, in her ear: “Rock-a-bye, baby, on the tree top, when the wind blows, the cradle will rock ... “ The lullaby brought a last desperate outburst of resistance from Toby, but even that was doomed; slowly, inexorably, she slipped into unconsciousness.

Lars lowered his last victim into a sitting position on the floor; she slumped over, held upright by her handcuffed wrist. He surveyed his handiwork with pride. “They’re so much easier to handle when they’re like this,” he commented to nobody in particular. Fetching the items he’d stashed outside the room, he set to work.

***

A short time later, Lars stuck his head into the darkened room where the old woman sat. “Madame?”

For once, she was awake. “What is it?”

“Everything’s ready, Madame.”

“Very good. You may bring me there.”

He pushed a wheelchair into the room, gently lifted the frail, withered form into it, and rolled her down the hallway into a bathroom. He parked her next to a tub filled with a steaming red liquid. She looked almost hungrily at the fluid. “Excellent. And the girls?”

“Disposed of as per your instructions, Madame.”

She continued staring at the tub. Lars discreetly cleared his throat.

“Ah, yes.” The old woman removed a key on a slender chain from around her neck and handed it to Lars. “This will unlock the strongbox in my room. Your payment is inside. This concludes your employment with me. Please leave immediately.”

“With pleasure, Madame. With pleasure,” he replied, withdrawing from the room.

As she lowered herself into the tub, the old woman seethed inside. That she, Elizabet Bathory, Countess of Cachtice, should be reduced to using a brute such as this fellow to do her bidding – and having to pay him, to boot!

The plain fact, though, was that she’d had a very difficult time finding anyone willing to assist her – and she certainly wasn’t capable of such actions on her own! Indeed, just climbing out of her wheelchair and into the tub had exhausted her.

That would all change, though, when the blood of those two young girls worked its healing magic on her. Restored to her rightful beauty, she’d have no difficulty in attracting men – and the right class of men, too – men who would cheerfully do whatever she wished. And, next time, she wouldn’t wait so long between treatments.

She relaxed in the tub, waiting for the rejuvenation to begin.

Chapter 8

Toby lolled about, just on the verge of consciousness. Try as she might, she just couldn’t get comfortable tonight. But then, she didn’t usually sleep on her stomach – and since when did she sleep with her glasses on? And why couldn’t she move her arms and legs? And what was that in her mouth?

Her eyes snapped open. Now fully awake, she verged on panic for a few seconds before calming down and assessing her situation. She’d been gagged with a long strip of cloth which she could feel securely knotted behind her head. Her wrists were tied behind her back with what felt like rope; her ankles were also securely bound. Moreover, she’d been hogtied – her legs bent back and her ankles tied to her wrists, effectively immobilizing her.

She looked around, finding herself in what appeared to be a stall of a horse barn. By the dim light creeping through the cracks in the boards, she guessed it was nighttime. She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, or what happened to –

Terry and Vicky! They were “suitable”, and she was “disposable”. Apparently this was how she’d been disposed of. But what had become of her fellow captives? She was alone in the stall.

Toby strained against her bonds, but a momentary effort convinced her she’d exhaust herself long before she made any headway. Her fingers quested, searching for the knots, but there were none within range. She began trying to squirm over to the side of the stall, hoping for a loose nail, something she could use to free herself.

Suddenly she froze. She heard footsteps – someone else was in the barn! A light – a flashlight beam? – flickered past the stall door. Had the villain come back?

“He said they’d be in the barn,” a male voice – not the kidnapper – said.

“All right. Search the place. Let’s find them,” another male (again, not the kidnapper) replied. The second voice sounded familiar to Toby. Where had she heard it before?

Toby decided to take her chances and called for help as best she could through her gag. “Did you hear that? It sounded like it came from over here!” the first voice said. Seconds later, a light shone in the stall, illuminating her. “Here’s one!” The stall door slid open, and a uniformed Greendale policeman rushed in. He ungagged her and started working on her other bonds. “Terry – Vicky –“ she croaked.

“Shh, don’t try to talk just yet,” the policeman soothed. “Somebody get her some water!” He finished untying the girl, rolled her on to her back, and helped her into a sitting position. Someone held a cup to her lips; she drank greedily, washing away the taste of the gag.

“Are you all right?” It was the second voice.

“I ... I think so,” she managed to reply.

“I’m Detective Morgan, and this is Officer Baker,” the man replied. “When you feel up to it, we’ll need to ask you about what went on here.”

Detective Morgan ... the pieces fell into place. He was the same detective who’d been on the scene in the case of Miss Twilly and the minotaur man. Then Toby remembered her friends, and blurted out, “What about Terry and Vicky?”

“We’re still looking for them,” the detective replied.

“Here they are!” another voice shouted.

Toby tried to scramble to her feet, but her legs, severely cramped after the long hogtie, betrayed her. Officer Baker obligingly scooped her up in his arms and followed the detective out of the stall.

In the stall next to hers lay Terry and Vicky, their mouths gagged and their hands and ankles securely bound, but not hogtied. Another Greendale policeman and a gray-haired man in a suit and trench coat were untying them. Toby’s heart froze until she noticed that both girls were breathing.

“That’s all three of them,” Detective Morgan commented. He turned to look at Toby. “I wonder why you were hogtied and these two weren’t?”

Toby thought back to the solid kick she’d given the man in the dark suit, and how he’d looked at her afterwards, and had a pretty good idea why. Her legs felt full of pins and needles as circulation returned.

“They’re starting to come around,” the police officer reported.

Toby turned her attention back to Terry and Vicky. Both girls’ bindings and gags had been removed. Vicky moaned and raised a hand to her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open. She looked around wildly before noticing the gray-haired man hovering over her.
“Grandpa!” she cried. “Oh, Grandpa!”

“It’s okay, darling,” he reassured her, gathering her into his arms and hugging her tight. “You’re safe now. Nothing’s going to happen to you. It’s okay.”

“Toby!” Terry cried. She was sitting upright, the police officer supporting her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Toby replied. She looked up at Officer Baker. “Can you put me down, please?” He did, and she wobbled unsteadily to Terry’s side. “How are you feeling?”

“A little woozy still,” Terry confessed. “What happened to us?”

“That’s what I’m waiting to hear,” said Detective Morgan.

Vicky and Terry both instinctively turned to Toby, silently appointing her the group spokesman. She took a deep breath and related everything that had befallen them since they first encountered the kidnapper at the store. While she did, the detective looked more closely at her.

“I thought I recognized you,” he said when she’d finished. “You’re the girl who was mixed up in that mess with the old lady and the phony minotaur, weren’t you?”

Toby nodded.

“Well,” he continued, “maybe after this experience, you’ll leave the detective work to the police, eh?”

Terry shot back, “And just what would you have done if we’d called you and told you we saw a man wearing black leather gloves?”

Detective Morgan mulled that one over. “Good point,” he finally conceded. Toby grinned her thanks to Terry.

“How did you know we were here?” Vicky asked.

“Somebody – we presume the kidnapper – contacted your family and arranged a ransom for you,” the detective explained. “Your grandfather here paid it, and in exchange, we received directions to this place.”

Another Greendale police officer stuck his head into the barn. “Sir, we couldn’t locate any people in the house, but there’s something you should definitely see,” he reported.

The group made their way into the house and up to the bathroom. They stared in astonishment at the crimson-filled tub. “Is that ... is that ... blood?” Toby finally asked.

“Not exactly,” the officer replied. “It’s artificial blood. We found some empty containers in the basement. It’s used in stage productions and stuff like that. It’s supposed to be virtually indistinguishable from the real stuff.”

“I wonder what it was for,” Terry mused.

“Any ideas?” Detective Morgan asked.

The girls shook their heads. Vicky crinkled her nose. “Phew. Smells like something died in here.”

“Well,” the detective concluded, “it’s late, and there’s no need to keep you here. We’ll need to get a more detailed statement from you, but that can wait until tomorrow. Officer Baker, will you see these two get home?” He indicated Toby and Terry.

“Certainly,” the officer replied. “This way, ladies.”

Toby didn’t relish the idea of the scene at home, when her parents found out what she’d been up to this time. She did take satisfaction, though, in knowing she’d given the police complete descriptions of both the old woman and the kidnapper, including the make, model, and license number of the black sedan he’d been driving.

Many miles from Greendale (and getting further by the moment), Lars Beckert, now driving a blue station wagon, chuckled again as he glanced at the two bags in the back seat – the ransom he’d extracted from the girl’s family laying side-by-side with the payoff from “Madame Bathory”. All in a day’s work, he told himself.

Besides, he hadn’t really reneged on his deal with the loony old bat anyway. She’d paid him for a bathtub full of blood, and that’s what he’d given her. So what if it was phony blood? A mere technicality ...

He started plotting his next caper. It hadn’t been that hard to snatch the kid. Maybe he could wait a while, say six months of so, until they relaxed and grew careless, and then grab her again. Yeah, and maybe get her sister, too. Their family’d probably pay plenty to get both their little princesses back. And, this time, if Four-Eyes, Blondie, or any other silly little girl “detectives” stuck their noses in his business, he’d teach them a lesson they wouldn’t soon forget.

No, Lars decided, Greendale hadn’t seen the last of him ...

______________________________
Usikujumba, Lord of the Night