"Did you hurt her?" Ben was still staring at Charlie.
"I've been looking for you, Benji. Ever since I first discovered the chamber. I thought I was clever. Working with the homeless so no one would question how I happened to be on such-and-such street corner at such-and-such night. Why I happened to know so many whores who disappeared. But then… I couldn't believe the ingeniousness of the chamber, the scope of your achievement. If only I'd thought of it first. Oh, the things I could've done."
"She's bleeding."
"How long did you keep them alive? Days, weeks, months? Again, the possibilities. My cover afforded me the perfect opportunity to relish the hunt. But after that… It's the lack of time, the need to rush, rush, rush that's always troubled me. You spend so much energy luring them in, binding them up, and then, just when you're starting to enjoy things, you have to be practical. Someone might hear a noise, someone might get curious. You have to end the romance and get the job done. Doesn't do any good to call attention to yourself, even for the special ones.
"Tell me the truth," Charlie wanted to know "Weren't you the least bit inspired by my work? The nurse in '75. Totally an impulse job. I was out on the grounds. She was out on the grounds. One thing led to another. It was the biggest thing that ever happened to Boston State Mental, well, until your chamber was discovered. Benji? Benji, are you listening to me?"
Ben leaned over Charlie. The look on his face raised the fine hairs on the back of my neck. I dug my fingers into Bella's fur. I willed her not to make a sound.
I placed one hand on the floor and started silently easing myself and Bella toward the door.
"You hurt my Amy," Ben said. "Now I must hurt you."
At the last minute, Charlie seemed to realize he didn't have an ally. At the last minute, he raised the switchblade, realizing the danger he was in.
Ben caught Charlie's wrist in a single muscled hand. I heard the crunch of bones.
I hit the door, reaching up frantically, scrambling with the locks. Why, oh why did I have so many locks?
I couldn't look, but I also couldn't do a thing to block out the sound.
As my uncle tore the switchblade from Charlie Marvin's crushed hand. Then, very neatly, jammed the entire blade in Charlie
Marvin's eye. A scream. A wet popping sound. A long, low wheezing groan, like air being let out of tires.
Then silence.
"Oh, Amy" Ben said.
I couldn't help myself. Huddled with Bella against the locked door, I started to cry.
Chapter 37
YOU'RE ALL I ever wanted, Amy," Ben was saying. "The other girls—they meant nothing to me. Mistakes. I saw the error of my ways years ago. And I waited for you. Until one day my patience was rewarded." He reached out with a bloody hand and stroked my cheek. I tried to shrink back; there was no place to go.
"Please unlock the door, Ben." I wanted to sound firm, but my voice came out shaky. "Bella, she's hurt. She needs immediate medical attention. Please, Ben."
He looked at me, sighed heavily. "You know I can't do that, Amy."
"I won't tell anyone about you. I'll say Charlie attacked me. Was crazy. I stabbed him myself. Look at the cuts all over my body. They'll believe me."
"It's not the same anymore. In the beginning, when I found you again, it was okay. I realized immediately that no one else knew who you were. You were special, untouched. You belonged to me."
"I won't move. I'll stay right here. Everything can be just the way it was before. I'll order fabric, you can deliver it every day."
"But it's not. You know now. The police know. It's not the same."
I closed my eyes, fighting for control. Bella whimpered again. The sound gave me strength. "I don't understand. You made it twenty-five years without me. You took those other girls. Obviously I mean nothing to you."
"Oh no," he said immediately, earnestly. "I didn't stop because I wanted to. That's not how it was at all." Ben removed his brown cap. And for the first time I saw the furrow running along the top of his head, a twisted scar that bore no hair. "This is what stopped me. If it hadn't been for this, I would've pursued you forever. Twenty-five years ago, Amy, you would've been mine."
"Oh God," I moaned, because in that moment I finally heard it. Ben may not have looked like my father, but if I listened to his voice, his intense, earnest voice as he sought to make his very important point… He sounded exactly like my father. Same tone, same rhythm, same voice.
Had I realized it before, made the connection on some subconscious level? Then let him in, made him my sole connection to the outside world because blood was thicker than water and part of me had rejoiced in finding family again?