1704 lines
77 KiB
Plaintext
1704 lines
77 KiB
Plaintext
From netnews.upenn.edu!news.cc.swarthmore.edu!psuvax1!news.pop.psu.edu!news.cac.psu.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!ix.netcom.com!netnews Mon Nov 7 15:47:11 1994
|
|
Path: netnews.upenn.edu!news.cc.swarthmore.edu!psuvax1!news.pop.psu.edu!news.cac.psu.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!ix.netcom.com!netnews
|
|
From: archer77@ix.netcom.com (Michael Francis)
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
|
|
Subject: Just Like Old Times PART I
|
|
Date: 5 Nov 1994 01:48:05 GMT
|
|
Organization: Netcom
|
|
Lines: 423
|
|
Distribution: world
|
|
Message-ID: <39eo8l$oj4@ixnews1.ix.netcom.com>
|
|
NNTP-Posting-Host: ix-aus1-07.ix.netcom.com
|
|
|
|
Any comment or sugestions on this story are welcome.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Just Like Old Times"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Agent Dana Scully couldn't seem to look away from the victim, as she
|
|
absently pulled off her
|
|
gory rubber gloves.
|
|
"Anything?" the police detective asked.
|
|
Anything? There was actually too much. A plethora of evidence lay
|
|
smeared across the
|
|
pavement. But all she said was "We'll know more after we get her to the
|
|
lab and do the
|
|
autopsy."
|
|
The detective grunted non-comittedly, and left her alone. She could
|
|
hear him a few yards
|
|
away, arranging the details.
|
|
"Snap out of it, Scully." she whispered to herself, disposed of the
|
|
gloves, and began to take
|
|
care of her own details. She made sure the police photographer knew
|
|
where to send her
|
|
copies, and arranged for the immediate area to be swept for evidence
|
|
not readily apparent.
|
|
Hairs, fibers, slips of paper; there was no telling what form a key clue
|
|
could come in. She
|
|
spoke softly but clearly into her mini tape recorder, giving her
|
|
impressions of the scene and
|
|
known data.
|
|
"This is the second victim in as many weeks. Both female, both
|
|
prostitutes, both strangled and
|
|
disemboweled with the entrails laid neatly beside the body in a display.
|
|
Evidence suggests a
|
|
methodical serial killer. The bodies were found only two blocks apart,
|
|
so the killer either lives
|
|
here or frequents the area. Someone local may know him, even suspect
|
|
him. Personal note,
|
|
interface with...extra data source for case comparisons." She clicked
|
|
off the device, thought it
|
|
over, rewound and erased the last sentence. It wasn't likely she'd
|
|
forget to contact Muldar,
|
|
and there was no sense leaving proof that she intended to.
|
|
She ducked under the police tape, and turned to have one last look at
|
|
the scene. They were
|
|
scooping what was left of the girl into a body bag. She always hated
|
|
that part. Now the crime
|
|
scene was destroyed, and she'd have to rely on photographs and memory.
|
|
"I wonder if your cop buddies know you used to cut gym class to sneak
|
|
smokes behind the
|
|
dumpster?"
|
|
Dana turned to find the source of the comment, and froze in
|
|
astonishment. "Oh, my God."
|
|
she breathed, a smile dawning on her face. "Lenore!"
|
|
A grubby but somehow charismatic woman smiled down on her. "Only the
|
|
enigmatic Dana
|
|
Scully calls me that and gets away with it. Don't mind my attire, it
|
|
was "Easy-Off" day at the
|
|
bakery."
|
|
"Bakery?"
|
|
"Where I work. You know work; as in fingers to the bone."
|
|
Dana shook her head. "I don't understand. What are you doing working
|
|
in a bakery?"
|
|
Lenore stiffened slightly, still smiling. "I have to eat, dear.
|
|
There aren't too many 50k jobs
|
|
available to unskilled laborers." She saw the wrinkle between Dana's
|
|
eyebrows. "Don't peruse
|
|
it, babe. Bit of a sore spot. But look at you! A cop!"
|
|
"No, FBI"
|
|
"Even better! I think it's perfect for you. You always had an
|
|
analytical bent. So? Is it
|
|
working out?"
|
|
Dana nodded, looking away. "It's...interesting."
|
|
"What. You don't sound thrilled. Second thoughts? I always thought
|
|
you'd be a great
|
|
Wagnerian soprano; there's still time."
|
|
Like always, Lenore was able to get her to laugh. It felt good to
|
|
shake off the grimness of the
|
|
day. "So, Lenore,"
|
|
"Humor me."
|
|
"O.K., Lenny. Where do you live? Can I give you a ride?"
|
|
"I'm just across the street. It's not much, but I think I can manage
|
|
a cup of coffee.
|
|
Interested?"
|
|
"You live here?" Dana looked in dismay at the half-torn down
|
|
tenement.
|
|
"I told you, don't pry."
|
|
"But do your parents know?"
|
|
"Dana,"
|
|
"I mean, you can't really want to live in that...that..."
|
|
Lenore stiffened again and took a step back. "I told you, I'm fine.
|
|
Can't a person be a little
|
|
down on their luck? Or is it that I had the bad manners to let you know
|
|
about it that bothers
|
|
you?"
|
|
She looked at her shoes. "I'm sure you know what you're doing. I
|
|
just wondered if you
|
|
weren't taking the starving artist bit a shade too far." She looked
|
|
back up at her friend. "Damn
|
|
it, Lenore,"
|
|
"The invitation for coffee still stands, but keep it up and I'll
|
|
withdraw it."
|
|
"It wasn't gym class. You were the one who skipped gym. I only cut
|
|
study hall."
|
|
Lenny smiled. "Oh, you're right, that's so much less sinful."
|
|
They smiled at eachother for a moment, then Dana glanced over at the
|
|
departing ambulance.
|
|
"I have to take a rain check on that coffee, O.K.? Hey, since you were
|
|
so close to the scene,
|
|
did you notice anything unusual last night?"
|
|
Lenny's face drained of expression. "Yeah. You could say that. But
|
|
I don't think it has
|
|
anything to do with that."
|
|
"Oh?"
|
|
"I really can't explain...Look, why don't you come by for that coffee
|
|
around one thirty."
|
|
"It's after three already."
|
|
"I mean in the morning. I want to show you something."
|
|
Dana studied her friend's face. "all right, I'm interested. What's
|
|
it about?"
|
|
"Like I said; I'd rather show you, than try to explain it."
|
|
She nodded, then got an idea. "You wouldn't mind if I had a friend
|
|
meet us there?"
|
|
"Well I don't know, it may not be that big a deal."
|
|
"He doesn't have to be in on this. It's just someone I'd like to talk
|
|
over a few things with, and
|
|
I wouldn't get to see him otherwise."
|
|
A wide smile spread across Lenny's face. "Good God, Dana Scully; are
|
|
you seeing a married
|
|
man?"
|
|
"No!" She looked away. "Actually, I wish it were that simple."
|
|
"Well, now you got me interested. Sure, bring your little friend.
|
|
Apartment 5c. Don't bother
|
|
buzzing, the lock is broken. And don't look at me that way. See you
|
|
tonight?"
|
|
"Definitely. Oh, can I bring something? Wine? cake?"
|
|
Lenny laughed. "Don't try to class the place up, it's hopeless.
|
|
Besides, I already have a case
|
|
of Mooshead in the fridge; what more could you want?"
|
|
They laughed and said their good-byes, each stealing a hidden glance
|
|
after they parted.
|
|
|
|
Much later, Scully stood beneath the broken security light over the
|
|
front entry way to
|
|
Lenny's building. When she saw Mular's car pull up, she stayed in the
|
|
shadows a few moments
|
|
to be sure he hadn't been followed, then went to meet him.
|
|
"Some interesting friends you must have." he said quietly, once in
|
|
ear shot.
|
|
Scully shook her head. "I have no idea what Lenny's doing here. I
|
|
mean, she always did
|
|
have to do things differently than anyone else, but this..." she took
|
|
one last look at the
|
|
crumbling facade before they entered. "...this is more different than
|
|
usual. Anyway, that's not
|
|
what's important right now. I really wanted to get your opinion of this
|
|
case I'm working on."
|
|
He nodded. "Well, why don't we go upstairs before we get mugged?"
|
|
They tried to take the stairs at a good clip, but somewhere between
|
|
the third and forth landing
|
|
the unspoken agreement was made to slow down.
|
|
"So let me get this strait." Muldar tried not to pant. "Your
|
|
friend's a girl, but her name is
|
|
Lenny."
|
|
"Really it's Lenore, but she always hated it. Said every time she
|
|
heard it, it made her want to
|
|
caw."
|
|
"To what?"
|
|
"Caw. You know; Poe? Lenore? Quothe the raven-"
|
|
"I get it, I get it." He paused a moment to catch his breath, then
|
|
went on. "How long have
|
|
you known her?"
|
|
"Since the eight grade. That's when she insisted she attend public
|
|
school."
|
|
"Ah. It's like that, is it?"
|
|
"I told you she's different. God, there's the fifth floor."
|
|
Once on the landing, they easily spotted Lenny's apartment; the door
|
|
stood open, with light
|
|
and music pouring into the hallway. Scully went first, poking her head
|
|
in the doorway.
|
|
"Don't your neighbors complain about the noise?" she asked Lenny, who
|
|
was seated on a
|
|
tattered sofa across the room.
|
|
"Don't have any." Lenny jumped up and crossed the floor. "C'mon in."
|
|
She wore
|
|
deceptively simple looking khaki slacks and a cream tee shirt. The
|
|
quality of the fabric hinted
|
|
at less than simple price tags. "Who's your friend?"
|
|
Scully smiled, noticing Lenny's bare and perfectly pedicured feet.
|
|
The grungy bag lady she'd
|
|
met in the street was gone, and the old Lenny was back. "This is my
|
|
former partner, Fox
|
|
Muldar. Muldar, Lenore Pape."
|
|
Lenny sized him up as she offered her hand. "Fox? As in what a?"
|
|
At loss for a response, Muldar simply nodded and shook her hand.
|
|
"God, you two must have been great partners;" Lenny said, "you're
|
|
just as stiff as she is.
|
|
Come have a seat and...try to relax."
|
|
After exchanging a glance, Scully and Muldar followed Lenny in, handed
|
|
over their coats, and
|
|
sat down. She put the coats on a wall rack, and gently closed the door.
|
|
"We have a little time.
|
|
Do either of you want some coffee or a beer? I don't have guests too
|
|
often, so my larder's not
|
|
very stocked."
|
|
Muldar looked over at Scully. "Time for what?"
|
|
Scully shrugged a little and looked at Lenny, who stood with her arms
|
|
folded.
|
|
"I'd rather not say." Lenny answered. "Let's just see what happens.
|
|
You guys like
|
|
experiments, right? Anyway, we have about twenty minutes. If you need
|
|
anything, I'll be in the
|
|
kitchen."
|
|
After Lenny left, Muldar gave Scully another questioning look; which
|
|
she waved off. Picking
|
|
up her briefcase, she pulled out a folder full of photos and spread them
|
|
across the coffee table
|
|
in front of them.
|
|
"Tell me what you think of these." She said. "Both were from this
|
|
area, both prostitutes, both
|
|
strangled and, well, you can see the rest."
|
|
Muldar carefully examined each picture, his head leaning to one side.
|
|
"Could it be a Jack the Ripper copy cat?"
|
|
"Not if he did his homework." Muldar murmured. "The placement of the
|
|
organs is all wrong.
|
|
Someone going through this much trouble would at least try to get his
|
|
facts straight.."
|
|
"Seen anything like this before?"
|
|
He paused a few moments, studying the pictures. "Sure; on a
|
|
dissecting board, with frogs."
|
|
"It is odd, how all the organs are so neatly and evenly spaced. Do
|
|
you think he could be a
|
|
doctor or a scientist?"
|
|
"Maybe. Hmmm. That's interesting."
|
|
"What?" Scully tilted her head to try and see what he saw.
|
|
"What's this?" He pointed to an organ in the picture.
|
|
"A Liver."
|
|
"And this?"
|
|
"Kidneys"
|
|
"Hmmm." He turned the photo upside down.
|
|
"What?" Scully repeated.
|
|
"Look at the order of the organs."
|
|
"Yes?"
|
|
"Maybe you should be looking for a deranged librarian. The organs are
|
|
laid out in
|
|
alphabetical order."
|
|
A muffled laugh was heard from the kitchen, which Scully ignored.
|
|
"Let me see that." She
|
|
took the picture and studied it. "You're right. I don't know why I
|
|
didn't notice..."
|
|
"I knew there had to be some reason he laid them out so carefully."
|
|
"The other one, too."
|
|
"Why do you assume it's a man?" Lenny asked, standing in the kitchen
|
|
doorway.
|
|
"There aren't many female serial killers." Muldar answered, still
|
|
studying the photos. "Even
|
|
fewer who can kill with their bare hands."
|
|
Lenny came closer, looking over their shoulders. "But they look like
|
|
they were cut open."
|
|
"After death." Scully answered, slowly looking up at her friend.
|
|
"They died by strangulation.
|
|
Maybe you should think about moving, or at least staying with your
|
|
parents for awhile."
|
|
"You said he only kills prostitutes."
|
|
"That may not be a hard and fast rule." Muldar interjected. "Maybe
|
|
he's only killed
|
|
prostitutes so far because they were readily available."
|
|
Lenny was quiet for a little while, thinking. "What time do you think
|
|
the last one happened?"
|
|
"Between two or three in the morning." Scully answered. She noticed
|
|
this startled her friend.
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
"I go to work at two thirty most mornings, except on oven cleaning
|
|
day; I get to go in at ten.
|
|
If yesterday hadn't been my day to scrub ovens..."
|
|
"Still think I worry too much?"
|
|
"I'll admit you have a point. Hold on," Lenny glanced at her watch.
|
|
"It's almost time."
|
|
"Time for wha-"
|
|
"Shhh!"
|
|
|
|
For nearly half a minute, they sat in silence listening to the vague
|
|
rumbling of bad plumbing.
|
|
Suddenly, the dinette table near the kitchen began to tremble as if one
|
|
leg were shorter than the
|
|
others. Then the three chairs around the table began to clatter and
|
|
jitter away from the table.
|
|
Everything else stood perfectly still, but the dinette set was boogying
|
|
to beat the band. After a
|
|
minute, they suddenly stopped. Somewhere downstairs a toilet flushed,
|
|
but everything else was
|
|
silent.
|
|
"Is that what you brought me here to see?" Scully asked, breaking the
|
|
silence. "So how'd
|
|
you do it; wires?"
|
|
Muldar got up without a word and examined the furniture.
|
|
"See for yourself, Dana." Lenny answered. "It isn't a trick."
|
|
"Then what is it?"
|
|
"You tell me."
|
|
Scully shook her head in mild exasperation. "If it isn't a trick,
|
|
then there's a logical
|
|
explanation. Vibrations from passing traffic, or a water pipe..."
|
|
"Every night?"
|
|
"This happens every night?" Muldar interrupted.
|
|
"Muldar," Scully shook her head again. "Lenny was always pulling
|
|
stuff like this. She's the
|
|
practical joke queen. I'm sure it's all a set up, right down to the
|
|
story about working in a
|
|
bakery. A bakery? God!"
|
|
Lenny smiled. "Not this time, Dana; but I'm just glad you saw it.
|
|
Proves I haven't been
|
|
imagining it. Your mind can play tricks on you, alone at two in the
|
|
morning."
|
|
"There's a white powdery substance on the shoes by the door." Muldar
|
|
said, squatting down
|
|
and looking at the floor under the table. "Could be flour or
|
|
confectioner's sugar. These darker
|
|
scrapes on the floor look like the lighter ones the table made tonight,
|
|
only older. Depending on
|
|
how often the floor is swept and mopped, could be several days."
|
|
Lenny cleared her throat.
|
|
"Or weeks." Muldar amended, smiling vaguely and examining the
|
|
underside of the table.
|
|
"You're buying into this?" Scully asked him.
|
|
"Why not?" He straightened up and turned to Lenny. "If you don't
|
|
mind, I'd like to let a
|
|
friend of mine see this. He has some equipment that may help us pin
|
|
down the source of the
|
|
vibration."
|
|
"Sure. I'm usually up anyway. I start walking at two thirty."
|
|
"You walk to work?" Scully gasped.
|
|
Lenny shrugged. "Buses don't run."
|
|
Muldar cut in. "If this is as interesting as I think it is, you'll
|
|
have a ride to work for a week or
|
|
so."
|
|
"Great." Lenny smiled.
|
|
Scully opened her mouth to say something, closed it, then changed the
|
|
subject. "Well, I've got
|
|
to get going. I have to work in a few hours. Do you need a ride
|
|
tonight?"
|
|
"No, thanks, it's my day off."
|
|
"Well..."
|
|
Lenny smiled again, reached over, and squeezed Scully's hand. "Thanks
|
|
again for coming by.
|
|
I wasn't kidding about wanting to make sure I wasn't going crazy. Until
|
|
I saw you outside,
|
|
though, I couldn't think of anyone I could trust. If old steadfast
|
|
Scully can see it, it must be for
|
|
real."
|
|
Scully smiled back. "If...you want to talk, I'm in the book. Call
|
|
any time."
|
|
"Geez, Dana!" Lenny laughed. "Cut the melodrama, all right?" She
|
|
stood and led them to the
|
|
door. Once they had their coats, they said their good-byes and left.
|
|
|
|
Dana descended the stairs slower than she had climbed them, lost in
|
|
thought. Lost in his own
|
|
thoughts, Muldar kept pace. About halfway down, he broke the silence.
|
|
"Well? What do you think?"
|
|
"I think I'm getting too grown up."
|
|
"I could have told you that." He smiled. "I meant the dancing
|
|
furniture. Do you really think
|
|
it's a trick?"
|
|
"I honestly don't know." She paused and glanced back up the stairs.
|
|
"I know something's not
|
|
right, but what else could it be?"
|
|
"Well, it could be natural causes; but I think the rest of the
|
|
apartment would have been
|
|
somewhat effected. Lenny set a cup of coffee on the table, and the
|
|
coffee didn't even show a
|
|
ripple."
|
|
Scully looked at her ex-partner in amazement. "You had time to look
|
|
at the coffee? How do
|
|
you think of these things?"
|
|
"Could it have been telekinesis?"
|
|
"Why? To get attention?"
|
|
"Maybe it's subconscious. You said something's not right. Could be
|
|
stress."
|
|
"I don't know. I know she doesn't belong here."
|
|
"Why not?"
|
|
She paused at the bottom of the stairs. "Lenore Pape is of the
|
|
Richmond Papes. Her mother
|
|
is Charlotte VanBuren, of the Washington VanBurens. At sixteen, she was
|
|
formally presented
|
|
at the Mayflower Society Annual Debutante Ball. Lenore Pape does not
|
|
belong in a soon to
|
|
be condemned tenement, and she certainly does not belong in a blue
|
|
collar job at a bakery."
|
|
"You said something about her insisting on attending public school."
|
|
"That was different. She always kept up her social image for her
|
|
parent's sake."
|
|
"A fight with her parents?"
|
|
"They dote on her. I guarantee, they'd be the ones to move out of the
|
|
family mansion, if she
|
|
wanted it that way."
|
|
"Maybe she's rebelling."
|
|
"It just doesn't fit."
|
|
All this was more information than Muldar wanted, but he realized she
|
|
just wanted to sort
|
|
things out aloud. "So you've never noticed something to support the
|
|
telekinesis theory?"
|
|
"Huh? No." She opened the door and headed to her car.
|
|
"So it's probably external."
|
|
"I guess."
|
|
He stopped by her car. "What's wrong?"
|
|
She looked up at the building. "I'm just worried about her. She's
|
|
her all alone, there's a
|
|
maniac on the loose,..."
|
|
"...Her furniture has no sense of rhythm..."
|
|
Scully laughed and looked away.
|
|
"Look, here's the deal: I'll see what I can do about the possessed
|
|
dinette and give her rides to
|
|
work, and you catch the maniac. O.K.?"
|
|
"Sure." she threw her hands up. "Simple. "I'll start by checking on
|
|
all the file clerks with
|
|
medical degrees."
|
|
"Or the ones who didn't pass."
|
|
They looked at eachother for a moment. "Embittered medical school
|
|
flunk-outs." Scully
|
|
murmured. "Not bad."
|
|
"I do what I can." he smiled.
|
|
|
|
From archer77@ix.netcom.com Tue Nov 8 11:27:05 MST 1994
|
|
Article: 885 of alt.tv.x-files.creative
|
|
Path: chaos.aoc.nrao.edu!lynx.unm.edu!nntp.sunbelt.net!udel!news.sprintlink.net!howland.reston.ans.net!ix.netcom.com!netnews
|
|
From: archer77@ix.netcom.com (Michael Francis)
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
|
|
Subject: Just Like Old Times, part 2.
|
|
Date: 8 Nov 1994 03:03:59 GMT
|
|
Organization: Netcom
|
|
Lines: 649
|
|
Distribution: world
|
|
Message-ID: <39mpqv$qs7@ixnews1.ix.netcom.com>
|
|
NNTP-Posting-Host: ix-aus1-15.ix.netcom.com
|
|
|
|
Just Like Old Times, part 2.
|
|
Synopsis of part 1: Agent Scully runs into an old school chum while
|
|
working on a baffling and
|
|
gruesome case. Her friend, Lenore Pape (nicknamed Lenny), has her own
|
|
problems; furniture
|
|
which is moved nightly by what could be paranormal phenomena. Scully
|
|
meets her ex-partner,
|
|
Agent Mulder, at Lenny's apartment to get his opinions on her case, and
|
|
on Lenny's problem.
|
|
Neither will be easy to solve.
|
|
|
|
Part two
|
|
|
|
The next night Lenny answered the door wearing an oversized Redskins
|
|
Jersey, insulated
|
|
leggings, and rag socks. "A little early, aren't you?" she asked. "I
|
|
haven't even dressed for
|
|
work yet."
|
|
"The equipment takes some time to set up." Mulder said, moving aside
|
|
to look at his
|
|
companion. "This is Bud Eams, a paranormal investigator. He writes for
|
|
several magazines,
|
|
and does the occasional research paper."
|
|
"Charmed." She backed away so they could enter, not offering her hand
|
|
since all of theirs
|
|
were full. "There's fresh coffee in the kitchen. Help yourself."
|
|
"No thank you." Bud said. ""I don't indulge in the casual ingestion
|
|
of drugs."
|
|
Mulder winced inwardly, but was surprised to see a broad, genuine
|
|
smile on Lenny's face.
|
|
"Well," she said, "feel free to rummage through my kitchen for
|
|
something to indulge in. I need
|
|
to shower and get dressed."
|
|
Finding a convenient wall socked, Bud set to work directing Mulder
|
|
where and how to set up
|
|
the equipment he was carrying. "Where'd you dig her up, Mulder?" He
|
|
asked. "She's a little
|
|
classier than your usual conquests."
|
|
"She's not a conquest. I don't have conquests. Where's the cable for
|
|
this one?"
|
|
"That box. Yeah, that's the one. So what is she?"
|
|
"A friend of a friend."
|
|
"Mind if I take a shot?"
|
|
Mulder laughed. "Don't embarrass yourself."
|
|
"Hey, classy chicks love me. I know what they like."
|
|
"Can we not have this discussion?"
|
|
Bud shrugged. "Whatever. There, that about does it. Lemme show you
|
|
how this stuff
|
|
works."
|
|
When Lenny came out wearing white chinos and a white tee shirt, they
|
|
were running test scans
|
|
to get the normal parameters. She pulled a clean apron from a laundry
|
|
basket and hung it on a
|
|
hook near the door. By the time she got herself a cup of coffee and
|
|
leaned against the wall
|
|
sipping it, the show began. Lights on unanimous boxes blinked, reams of
|
|
paper spewed forth,
|
|
and reels of tape spun, as the dinette set trembled and jittered across
|
|
the floor. When it was
|
|
over, Bud rushed in to read the print out and gave a low whistle.
|
|
"I may be premature, but I think we're talkin' the genuine article
|
|
here." Pulling off the paper
|
|
and folding it, he looked up at Lenny. "Mind if we keep this stuff here
|
|
and run tests for a few
|
|
more nights?"
|
|
"No problem." Lenny said over her coffee.
|
|
"Great." He pulled off a reel of tape and turned to Mulder. "I wanna
|
|
get this stuff home
|
|
where I can start processing it. You know how to run everything,
|
|
right?"
|
|
"Uh-"
|
|
"Good. Come back tomorrow and get me some mid-range reads. Put the
|
|
vid on ultra-vee,
|
|
and I want electrodes on the furniture itself this time. All the
|
|
stuff's in that box. Got it?"
|
|
"Uh-"
|
|
"Great." He gathered up his readouts and tapes and headed for the
|
|
door. "See ya later." He
|
|
looked over at Lenny. "Great." he repeated, and left.
|
|
Mulder stood looking more than a little confused.
|
|
"Well," Lenny said, moving away from the wall. "I guess that's
|
|
that."
|
|
"I guess it is." Mulder shook it off. "You'll have to excuse Bud,
|
|
he's a little..."
|
|
"Driven?"
|
|
"I was going to say eccentric, but we can go with driven. It's a
|
|
little more generous than I'd
|
|
be, but since I'm taking instructions from him, it makes me look
|
|
better."
|
|
"I dunno, G-man." She finished off her coffee. "You look pretty good
|
|
already."
|
|
Not knowing how to respond, he fussed around with the equipment while
|
|
she put away her
|
|
coffee mug.
|
|
"That offer still good?" she called from the kitchen.
|
|
For a moment, he couldn't think what she was talking about. "Uh...oh.
|
|
You mean the ride to
|
|
work. Sure."
|
|
He drove her the four blocks past boarded up row houses and abandoned
|
|
lots. He couldn't
|
|
imagine walking past those dark haunts every night. Scully was right:
|
|
this girl may have the
|
|
manners and refinement of the cultural elite, but she had a certain
|
|
amount of chutzpah, too.
|
|
"If you don't mind me asking,..." he began.
|
|
"Yes?"
|
|
"Why a bakery?"
|
|
"The work is consistent, I get paid on time, and I get tangible
|
|
results."
|
|
"But someone with your background,-"
|
|
"Dana shouldn't worry so much."
|
|
"She's your friend. She can't help it."
|
|
Lenny studied him for a moment. "Does she bug you like this, too?"
|
|
"no. Well...yeah. I guess so"
|
|
"Bless her 'lil heart." she smiled. "Here's my stop. Thanks for the
|
|
ride." The car had barely
|
|
stopped, when she hopped out. "See ya tomorrow."
|
|
He watched her go in, shook his head, and drove home.
|
|
|
|
Scully tapped her chin with her pen. She was trying to figure out
|
|
what it meant. It had to
|
|
mean something; the killer was very specific about that. But even the
|
|
most anal retentive doctor
|
|
around (and there were a few) wouldn't arrange the organs in
|
|
alphabetical order. How do you
|
|
even begin to profile someone like that? She wished even more that she
|
|
had Mulder on the
|
|
case with her; not so much for his abilities, but because sometimes you
|
|
just needed someone
|
|
whose thought patterns were familiar to you to bounce ideas off of. She
|
|
knew how to talk to
|
|
him, to get her ideas across and make him understand what was on her
|
|
mind. It was like being
|
|
one of those old couples who finish eachother's sentences, only without
|
|
the winter trips to
|
|
Florida.
|
|
She glanced over at the clock and decided it was time to quit and get
|
|
some sleep. She'd call
|
|
him later. Besides, she was curious about how his night of
|
|
ghost-busting with Lenny Pape had
|
|
gone.
|
|
|
|
Lenny Pape was on his mind. It was stupid, but there was something
|
|
about the way she'd
|
|
looked in that football jersey, with her hair in a pony tail and heavy
|
|
socks on her feet. It was
|
|
textbook girl net door stuff, and he was surprised he went for it; if
|
|
even just a little. His tastes
|
|
usually tended toward the more exotic. Shrugging it off, he checked his
|
|
E-mail and
|
|
downloaded some files Scully had sent him.
|
|
|
|
In a weed-choked lot a strangled scream sounded. It went unheard and
|
|
unheeded.
|
|
|
|
Scully was totally frustrated. The only hard clue she had, the weird
|
|
pattern, was sterile
|
|
ground. She gained no insight, and came to no conclusions. Forensics
|
|
found absolutely nothing
|
|
at the site, which was damned near impossible. No one saw or heard
|
|
anything, which was
|
|
typical.
|
|
Despite the fact that she was sure to be interrupting Lenny's sleep,
|
|
she decided to stop by and
|
|
give her an update.
|
|
"This better be good." Lenny mumbled as she opened the door. "Oh,
|
|
Dana. C'mon in."
|
|
"Did I wake you?"
|
|
Lenny gave her a withering glare, then plopped down on the sofa. "Oh
|
|
well, it's not like I was
|
|
sleeping soundly."
|
|
"Something on your mind?"
|
|
A dopey grin spread across her face. "You could say that. So what
|
|
brings you to the
|
|
neighborhood?"
|
|
"Another murder. Same as the others, but this ones a Jane Doe so
|
|
far."
|
|
"Geez. Where?"
|
|
"The empty lot next door. Look, Lenny,-"
|
|
Looking like she might be sick, Lenny held up one hand to cut Scully
|
|
off. "No."
|
|
"If it's a matter of finding a place to stay until you find another
|
|
apartment,-"
|
|
"No."
|
|
Scully looked away. "Well, I can't force you."
|
|
"Yer catchin' on."
|
|
Scully sighed and changed the subject. "So how's the ghost-busting
|
|
going? I see they've
|
|
taken over half your apartment." She nodded toward the equipment
|
|
cluttering the room.
|
|
"From what I hear, It's going great."
|
|
"How's work?"
|
|
"Fine."
|
|
"So what's giving you sleepless nights- or sleepless days?"
|
|
The dopey grin came back. "I don't know if I can help myself, Dana:
|
|
The stunted social
|
|
development, the implied emotional baggage, lean lines and sarcastic
|
|
smiles..."
|
|
Scully's mouth dropped open and she stared at her friend. "Mulder?"
|
|
"I think I wanna grab him up and make him wash that stuff outta his
|
|
hair. Maybe make him
|
|
dress in clothes that've never seen an iron."
|
|
Scully couldn't resist laughing at the mental image. "I don't think
|
|
you'd get very far."
|
|
"Well, we'll see."
|
|
"But you're not actually attracted to him, are you?"
|
|
Silence.
|
|
"Are you?"
|
|
Lenny leaned forward. "Dana, he gives me the
|
|
most...delicious...itch."
|
|
Again, Scully sat with her mouth open.
|
|
|
|
She met Mulder at the door in he cook whites. "Hey, G-man; C'mon in.
|
|
Lissen- I'm going to
|
|
the kitchen. You've turned down my hospitality twice so far. Turn me
|
|
down again, and I'm
|
|
gonna stop askin'."
|
|
"I'm fine. I need to check the settings on this equipment." He hung
|
|
his coat up by the door.
|
|
"You won't mind if I leave you alone, then."
|
|
"Not at all. Please, pretend I'm not here.'
|
|
Lenny flashed a smile. "I'll give it a try, but I dunno..."
|
|
Following Bud's instructions didn't take nearly as long as he thought
|
|
it would, so he began
|
|
rechecking the settings and connections.
|
|
"I hear you're a Poe fan." He called out toward the kitchen.
|
|
"What?" Lenny's bare feet padded across the kitchen tiles and she
|
|
peeked out the doorway.
|
|
"Scully said you liked Edgar Allen Poe."
|
|
"Is that what Scully said? I guess I must have, then; but no more
|
|
than any other angst-ridden
|
|
adolescent."
|
|
"You were angst-ridden?"
|
|
"Who wasn't?"
|
|
"You got me there." He straightened up and gave one more once over.
|
|
"It's always at two-
|
|
o'clock?"
|
|
"More or less."
|
|
"I guess I could stand a cup of coffee, if you have some made."
|
|
Lenny lifted her mug. "Always. Come help yourself."
|
|
He followed her into the kitchen and looked around. It was a typical
|
|
old-fashioned kitchen,
|
|
with glass paned cabinets and untold layers of off-white paint,
|
|
culminating in a breakfast nook
|
|
where the dinette should be. Instead, there was a battered roll-top
|
|
desk stuffed with papers,
|
|
books, pencils, and pens. Lying on top were a thesaurus and a
|
|
dictionary. "You write." He
|
|
said, getting himself a cup of coffee.
|
|
"I try."
|
|
"Published?"
|
|
"Some poetry."
|
|
"I'm not much into poetry."
|
|
"Me neither." She shrugged. "I just seem to have a knack for putting
|
|
together what people
|
|
want to see. I mean; there is good poetry, but mine is the literary
|
|
equivalent of the painting of
|
|
dogs playing poker."
|
|
"I happen to like the dogs playing poker."
|
|
Lenny stared at him for a moment, the laughed. "You do not!"
|
|
"O.k., o.k., I don't. But someone must; those things sell like hot
|
|
cakes."
|
|
"My point exactly."
|
|
"What?"
|
|
"Will you look at the time? You'd better get in there."
|
|
He took another swig of coffee, set down his mug, and went in just in
|
|
time. For the next
|
|
minute he was busy hopping from one piece of equipment to the next.
|
|
When it was over, he
|
|
looked up to see Lenny watching him.
|
|
"So do we have any idea what it is?" she asked.
|
|
"I haven't spoken to Bud since last time, but I doubt if he'll commit
|
|
to something this soon."
|
|
"What do you think?"
|
|
"I don't know." He pulled off a reel of tape and stood. "What do you
|
|
think?"
|
|
Lenny turned away. "I have no idea."
|
|
He was sure he wasn't telling the truth, but he dropped it. "Better
|
|
get your shoes on, I'll be
|
|
ready to go in a moment."
|
|
"Right." She took her mug into the kitchen, pausing to smile when she
|
|
remembered him saying
|
|
he liked the canine poker picture. Shaking it off, she got ready for
|
|
work.
|
|
|
|
The next night, Bud insisted on coming along. "So she's always in the
|
|
room when it happens?"
|
|
He asked.
|
|
"As far as I've seen. You think she's doing it?"
|
|
"Not directly. Like I said; I think it's the real thing. She may be
|
|
prompting it, though.
|
|
Tomorrow, see if you can keep her distracted. See if her concentration
|
|
is necessary.'
|
|
"I'll do what I can."
|
|
"I'll bet you will."
|
|
Mulder rolled his eyes with a labored sigh.
|
|
"I'll tell you what;" Bud went on. "She's a pretty cool customer."
|
|
"What do you mean?"
|
|
"You, me, we're used to this stuff. Well, about as much as anyone
|
|
could be used to it. but
|
|
most civilians would be going buggy by now. They' rather think it's all
|
|
in their heads."
|
|
Mulder absorbed this piece of information and finished climbing the
|
|
stairs. He was thinking
|
|
that perhaps the reason Lenny Pape wasn't alarmed by what was going on,
|
|
could be because
|
|
she knew more about it than she let on.
|
|
"Mr. Eams, Mr. Mulder." She greeted them. "Or should I call you
|
|
sergeant, or lieutenant, or
|
|
something?"
|
|
"Just Mulder's fine."
|
|
"Whatever you say, G-man."
|
|
Bud shot Mulder a meaningful glance behind Lenny's back as they
|
|
followed her in.
|
|
"Mr. Eams, I dug up some herbal tea if you're interested."
|
|
"Great."
|
|
"And, of course, there's coffee; for those who choose to indulge."
|
|
"Sounds good." Mulder said, following her into the kitchen. He
|
|
noticed the roll-top desk was
|
|
tightly closed. "Bud's going to put timers on the equipment so I don't
|
|
have to switch everything
|
|
on and off." He said, accepting a mug of coffee. "We don't even have
|
|
to be here. I'll still be
|
|
showing up, though, to make sure everything runs smooth and to change
|
|
the tapes."
|
|
Lenny put a kettle of water on to boil, and got down another mug.
|
|
"Did he mention anything
|
|
about what it could be?"
|
|
"He wants at least ten consistent days of data, before coming to any
|
|
conclusions." He noticed
|
|
she seemed preoccupied. "What's wrong?"
|
|
"Huh? Oh. Well, I've been thinking. Those murders: could they have
|
|
been part of some
|
|
kind of ritual?"
|
|
Mulder made a face and shook his head. "I don't think so. Usually
|
|
with ritualistic killings you
|
|
find some other evidence at the scene; wax from candles, ashes from a
|
|
fire, writing or drawing
|
|
in chalk or blood; that kind of thing." He watched to see her
|
|
reactions, but she simply nodded
|
|
and finished making Bud's tea. He remembered how un-squeemish she had
|
|
been about
|
|
Scully's crime scene photos. Bud was right. Lenny was pretty
|
|
unflappable, for a spoiled rich
|
|
girl.
|
|
He stood in the doorway and watched her banter with Bud for awhile,
|
|
striking the delicate
|
|
balance of dealing with him on his terms, while not compromising her own
|
|
and not talking down
|
|
to him. Before long, Bud seemed completely at ease with her. No mean
|
|
feat, considering Bud
|
|
Eams was the kind of guy who circled the block once before going home to
|
|
see if anyone was
|
|
following him. You don't meet too many people like that at the country
|
|
club.
|
|
|
|
Scully put the phone down, facts humming through her brain. They
|
|
finally identified the third
|
|
victim. She wasn't a prostitute, or even a transient. She was a
|
|
business woman whose car
|
|
broke down just north of BWI. Airline records showed she had landed on
|
|
a return flight at
|
|
eleven P.M., the night of the murder. If the killer was a local, he got
|
|
around some. He also
|
|
probably had his own car. Most likely he picked her up, offering help.
|
|
The fact that an
|
|
educated, monied woman went with him willingly showed that he was
|
|
probably good looking,
|
|
and so was that car. What someone like that was doing in Lenny's
|
|
neighborhood was certainly
|
|
something to chew on. It all went a long way toward forming that
|
|
profile, but Scully was too
|
|
worried about Lenny to enjoy the break. Everyone avoids the
|
|
scruffy-looking characters.
|
|
When the killer doesn't fit the stereotype, that makes him all the more
|
|
dangerous.
|
|
|
|
"Don't you need to get dressed for work?" Mulder asked as he walked
|
|
in. Lenny was
|
|
wearing jeans and a sweater.
|
|
"On weekends I don't have to be in till five. Don't worry, I wont ask
|
|
you to stay that long.
|
|
There's alot of people up and about at four thirty. I should be fine
|
|
walking."
|
|
"Really. Who's on the street at four thirty on a Saturday?"
|
|
"Newspaper delivery, dairy and bakery trucks going to supermarkets,
|
|
cabbies and bus drivers
|
|
on their way to work; you'd be surprised."
|
|
He didn't say anything, but he decided to stall until four thirty and
|
|
driver her in anyway. It was
|
|
his day off, and it would be easier than explaining to Scully why he let
|
|
her walk.
|
|
Lenny fiddled with her transistor radio, trying to find a good music
|
|
station, while Mulder
|
|
checked the equipment settings and the timer. Everything seemed ready
|
|
to go.
|
|
"There's coffee in the kitchen." she said.
|
|
After making another sweep to be sure, he followed her into the
|
|
kitchen and got down a mug.
|
|
"How can you stand that thing?" he meant the radio.
|
|
"It's not so bad. Besides, right now it's all I can afford."
|
|
"I guess you spend all your money on expensive sweaters."
|
|
She looked up from the radio. "A gift from my mom. She sends me
|
|
things. Afraid I'm
|
|
starving and freezing to death."
|
|
"Why don't you get her to send you a descent radio?"
|
|
"You can't ask for a specific gift."
|
|
"Why not?"
|
|
"Well, then it wouldn't be a gift."
|
|
"What would it be?"
|
|
"I don't know, but a gift is supposed to be spontaneous."
|
|
Mulder sipped his coffee. "Does she ever send you money?"
|
|
"I've told her not to. They manage to sneak some into my purse when I
|
|
visit, though. They
|
|
don't know it, but they get it right back at Christmas and on Birthdays.
|
|
Here we go." She
|
|
managed to find a satisfactory Blues/Jazz station, and set the radio on
|
|
the counter.
|
|
"So your parents don't mind letting you live out here?" he asked.
|
|
Lenny laughed. "I'm a grown woman, G-man. The days of sweating over
|
|
what my parents
|
|
will let me do are long over."
|
|
"It doesn't bother them?"
|
|
"Of course it bothers them, but they respect that I want to support
|
|
myself rather than live off
|
|
the family fortune."
|
|
"So that's what it's about?"
|
|
"About?" she smiled vaguely. "You mean me? I don't think you can
|
|
figure out what a
|
|
person's about in one evening. Not even a G-man is that good."
|
|
"I dunno," he smiled back. "I'm pretty good."
|
|
"I'll bet."
|
|
On the radio, Etta James began her rendition of "The Man I love".
|
|
Lenny set down her mug
|
|
and took Mulder's.
|
|
"Let's see how good a dancer you are."
|
|
"Nnnot very."
|
|
"Come on, this is a great song."
|
|
"I might step on your toes."
|
|
"They've been stepped on before. I'm not asking you to perform brain
|
|
surgery here, it's just a
|
|
little dance." She took his hands and pulled him away from the counter.
|
|
"Don't be such a
|
|
stereotype: the bookish little Fed, afraid to talk to girls."
|
|
"I'm not afraid to-"
|
|
"I know." She moved close and put one hand on his shoulder. "I just
|
|
wanted to get your
|
|
dander up. See? It's not so bad."
|
|
He rested his free hand against the small of her back and moved in
|
|
time to the music. "So you
|
|
know I'm not afraid of girls. What else do you think you know about
|
|
me?"
|
|
"I know you're not such a bad dancer."
|
|
"Thanks. Mom'll be glad Arthur Murry paid off."
|
|
"Other than that, I don't like to make assumptions."
|
|
"I noticed that about you." he said, giving her a half turn and
|
|
pulling her back. "You have
|
|
pretty good people skills."
|
|
"Well, I like them. People, that is. I don't mean that the way most
|
|
people do. When most
|
|
people say they like people, what they really mean is they like to be
|
|
liked by people."
|
|
"I don't like them very much."
|
|
"I thought I didn't either, but I'm kinda fascinated by them. The
|
|
idea that each person has their
|
|
own individual personality just amazes me. Once I stopped looking at
|
|
people from the
|
|
standpoint of how they effected me and my little world, and viewed them
|
|
as separate entities
|
|
with lives of their own, I really started to enjoy them. Like your
|
|
friend, Bud, for instance. I
|
|
could spend a week with him, and probably barely scratch the surface."
|
|
Mulder laughed quietly. "I think that's a surface better left
|
|
intact."
|
|
"Or you." she said, smiling up at him. "I'm starting to think you're
|
|
the kind of person who
|
|
says he doesn't like to play games, but you'd play guessing games all
|
|
night if I let you."
|
|
This irked him a little, because he did say he hated games, and he did
|
|
really like them. He
|
|
told himself it was part of his analytical nature to enjoy piecing
|
|
together puzzles, but that didn't
|
|
explain why he liked being a puzzle himself.
|
|
"So I suppose you're the kind of person who likes to say what's on her
|
|
mind?"
|
|
Lenny laughed, tipping her head back. "God forbid!"
|
|
"But you're the kind of person who likes to push people's buttons."
|
|
"True."
|
|
"And you're the kind of person who likes to say she says what's on her
|
|
mind."
|
|
She looked at him sideways. "True. If you're keeping score, you just
|
|
gained a point."
|
|
"I know."
|
|
The song ended, but they kept dancing.
|
|
"What game shall we play now?" she asked.
|
|
"How about Truth or Dare?"
|
|
"Not a chance. Besides, I don't think you really want to play that
|
|
one, either."
|
|
"I don't mind. Ask me anything you want."
|
|
"Anything? And you'll answer truthfully? No fudging?"
|
|
"Take your best shot."
|
|
"Do you like having me in your arms?"
|
|
Her boldness caught him off guard. "Yes." he said. "You don't play
|
|
fair, do you."
|
|
"You said I could ask anything."
|
|
"Well, to fair, I should get a question."
|
|
She thought about it. "all right, by all means let's be fair."
|
|
"Why did you estrange yourself from your family?"
|
|
"I didn't want to go into the family business."
|
|
"That's a cop out."
|
|
"It's the truth."
|
|
"Not the whole truth."
|
|
"I didn't hear you elaborating on your answer." she said. "Do we go
|
|
another round?"
|
|
"Are you up to it?"
|
|
"If you are."
|
|
"O.k., shoot."
|
|
"Why do you mistrust me so?"
|
|
"I don't trust anyone."
|
|
"Now that's a cop out."
|
|
"It's also the truth. My turn."
|
|
"After that last stinker, I don't know if we should play anymore."
|
|
"But to be fair,-"
|
|
"Being fair is a big thing with you, isn't it."
|
|
"I do work for the government."
|
|
"Please!" she laughed. "All right, but keep it simple. I hate
|
|
tedious answers."
|
|
"So I've noticed."
|
|
"So ask."
|
|
"What's on your mind right now?"
|
|
Lenny stopped dancing, lifted her chin, and gave him what Scully
|
|
always called her go-to-hell
|
|
look. "I was wondering if I was going to get the chance to kiss you
|
|
tonight."
|
|
Again, she caught him off guard. His mental autopilot went into the
|
|
defensive mode. "What's
|
|
stopping you?"
|
|
Her eyes widened briefly. "You do like to play rough."
|
|
"That's right. I only say I want to play fair."
|
|
"So you're callin' me out. I like that." She moved closer and gently
|
|
grabbed his lapels. Tilting
|
|
her face up, she kissed him lightly on the lips.
|
|
"Do you always have to have the upper hand?" he asked quietly.
|
|
"No." she said, her lips touching his. "Why don't you take it for
|
|
awhile?"
|
|
She kissed him again, and he kissed her back. She kissed him harder,
|
|
and he followed in
|
|
kind. She slipped her hands under his jacket and pulled him closer.
|
|
His hands were just about
|
|
to lose their politeness, when the equipment in the next room came on.
|
|
"I should go in there." he said, not yet pulling away.
|
|
"You're kidding."
|
|
"I promised Bud."
|
|
"I think Bud would understand."
|
|
"You're right, but..."
|
|
"Maybe tonight it wont-" She was cut off by the sound of clattering
|
|
furniture. Giving up, she
|
|
dropped her arms and let him go. "Are all ghosts this rude, or am I
|
|
especially lucky?"
|
|
"How long have you known it's a ghost?" he asked on his way to the
|
|
equipment.
|
|
"Well I have to call it something."
|
|
"But you do have an opinion."
|
|
"Based on what?"
|
|
The dinette stopped moving, and Mulder stood ready to remove the tape
|
|
once it stopped
|
|
rewinding.
|
|
"Besides," Lenny said. "Would a ghost do the same thing day after
|
|
day?"
|
|
As if in answer, one of the chairs scooted a few inches.
|
|
Mulder looked up sharply. "Has it ever done anything like that
|
|
before?"
|
|
"No." Lenny looked shaken.
|
|
"Ask it something else."
|
|
"What?"
|
|
"Ask another question." He hit the override on the timer and
|
|
restarted the equipment.
|
|
"All right." Lenny decided on a question. "Are you a ghost?"
|
|
Nothing.
|
|
"Ask another." he said. "Watch your wording."
|
|
"Are you...dead?"
|
|
The chair moved. Lenny paled, but kept control of herself.
|
|
"Another." Mulder said.
|
|
"What do you want?"
|
|
Nothing.
|
|
"Too broad." he said.
|
|
"Are you trying to tell us something?"
|
|
Nothing.
|
|
Lenny took a deep breath and let it out. "Are you trying to tell me
|
|
something?"
|
|
Scoot-scoot-scoot.
|
|
Lenny closed her eyes.
|
|
"Steady," Mulder said. "Keep going."
|
|
"Is there something you want me to do?"
|
|
The chair rattled like a palsied drunk.
|
|
"Touch it." he said.
|
|
"No way!"
|
|
"Come on, Lenny, it wont hurt you. It needs your help."
|
|
She faced it and asked. "Am I supposed to touch the chair?"
|
|
Nothing.
|
|
"Quit stalling, Lenny."
|
|
"You touch it."
|
|
"It wants you."
|
|
"That's what I'm afraid of." She looked back at the chair. "Are you
|
|
still here?"
|
|
Scoot.
|
|
"Did someone send you to me?"
|
|
Nothing.
|
|
Lenny let out a sigh. "All right." She cautiously approached the
|
|
chair and touched it. After
|
|
glancing at Mulder, she sat down on it. Suddenly, her head snapped back
|
|
and she fell out of
|
|
the chair.
|
|
Mulder lunged to catch her, but missed. "Lenny!" He reached out and
|
|
shook her.
|
|
She sat bolt upright, shouted "Don't let them find me!" and fell back
|
|
down.
|
|
When she woke up, Mulder asked what had happened, what it meant. She
|
|
claimed not to
|
|
know.
|
|
"Where's your phone?" He asked. "I need to call Bud."
|
|
"I don't have a phone."
|
|
"You-"
|
|
"There's a payphone, about a block down the street. Come on, I'll
|
|
show you."
|
|
"You sure you want to go out? It's pretty cold tonight."
|
|
"I'm sure as hell not staying here by myself!"
|
|
They grabbed their coats and left.
|
|
|
|
Mulder couldn't remember hearing Bud so excited. He had to repeat
|
|
details several times,
|
|
while Bud decided on their next course of action. Lenny got cold and
|
|
said she'd wait in the
|
|
doorway of the apartment building. She started walking back, while
|
|
Mulder repeated the
|
|
whole story for the third time.
|
|
She was almost at the tenement, passing a woodplank fence at the
|
|
abandoned lot, when she
|
|
was grabbed from behind.
|
|
In seconds, she was on the ground feeling strong hands crushing her
|
|
neck. She let go of the
|
|
steely arms and brought the heel of her hand up hard against what she
|
|
hoped was the assailant's
|
|
nose. Through the wool of a ski mask, she felt something give under her
|
|
hand, and the assailant
|
|
let go. She rolled toward the street, but he grabbed her again.
|
|
Suddenly, he let go and ran.
|
|
Lenny raised up to see what scared him off, and fell senseless to the
|
|
ground.
|
|
|
|
|
|
From archer77@ix.netcom.com Sun Nov 13 01:09:41 1994
|
|
Path: udel!news.sprintlink.net!howland.reston.ans.net!ix.netcom.com!netnews
|
|
From: archer77@ix.netcom.com (Michael Francis)
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
|
|
Subject: Just Like Old Times, part 3
|
|
Date: 13 Nov 1994 03:11:25 GMT
|
|
Organization: Netcom
|
|
Lines: 264
|
|
Distribution: world
|
|
Message-ID: <3a404t$kq9@ixnews1.ix.netcom.com>
|
|
NNTP-Posting-Host: ix-aus1-09.ix.netcom.com
|
|
|
|
Just Like Old Times, part 3
|
|
|
|
|
|
Synopsis of parts 1 and 2: While enlisting Agent Mulder's unofficial
|
|
help on a grisly serial murder case, Agent Scully introduces him to her
|
|
old school chum, Lenore (Lenny) Pape. Lenny has problems of her own; a
|
|
haunted dinette set that answers her questions. Mulder becomes
|
|
interested...in the dinette set, too. Things take a frightening turn
|
|
when the two cases combine, and Lenny is attacked by the killer known as
|
|
"The Washington Ripper."
|
|
|
|
*********Some sexual content, PG
|
|
Part 3
|
|
|
|
Mulder looked up from the phone booth when he heard running feet.
|
|
Suddenly, Bud was talking to empty air. In a ring of light shed by a
|
|
street lamp, Mulder found Lenny's shoe. He picked it up and started
|
|
toward the empty lot.
|
|
""Lenny?" he strained to see. A car went by, and something in the
|
|
grass reflected it's light. He crouched down, took out the ever-present
|
|
handkerchief, and picked it up. It was a scalpel. With a modicum of
|
|
relief, he noted there was no blood on the blade. "Lenny,-" he
|
|
repeated.
|
|
There was a raspy croaking noise, and a hand grabbed his leg, nearly
|
|
sending him out of his skin. He stood, pulling the hand with him, and
|
|
hoisted Lenny into his arms.
|
|
"Are you all right?" he asked, brushing her hair out of her face.
|
|
She nodded, croaked, and touched her throat.
|
|
"You can't talk?" Far off, there was the crack of gunshot. "Let's
|
|
get you upstairs." he said, and guided her home.
|
|
As Mulder hoped, Bud's suspicious nature got him out of bed and sent
|
|
him straight to Lenny's in fifteen minutes. By then, Lenny was
|
|
comfortably bedded down; a litter of written notes near her bed. She
|
|
was sure she wasn't badly hurt, but Mulder worried anyway.
|
|
"Do you have a mobile?" he asked Bud.
|
|
"Don't you know those things cause brain tumors?"
|
|
"Damn! Mine is being repaired; tonight, of all times. Look, Bud;
|
|
stay here with Lenny. I need to go down the block and make a few phone
|
|
calls."
|
|
"Sure, but what-"
|
|
"Just don't leave her here alone."
|
|
"Sure."
|
|
"And don't bug her, O.K.?"
|
|
"Waddaya think I am?"
|
|
Mulder glanced away and smiled a little. "Just a bit driven."
|
|
"Yeah, well, I'm not completely insensitive. Go make your phone
|
|
calls."
|
|
|
|
Forty five minutes after Mulder had found Lenny's shoe, he was still
|
|
holding it and nervously pacing the floor. Scully had come, bringing
|
|
with her an associate who was also an ear, nose, and throat man. When
|
|
they emerged from Lenny's room, Mulder froze and awaited the news.
|
|
"Thanks, Glenn." Scully spoke to her associate. "Again, sorry to get
|
|
you out of bed."
|
|
"No problem." He answered good naturedly. "Gotta hit the links
|
|
early, anyway."
|
|
She gave him his coat and walked him out. When she came back in,
|
|
Mulder looked like he was about to loose it.
|
|
"She'll be fine." Scully let him off the hook. "Some bruising and
|
|
soreness, but no permanent damage. What's he doing here?" she glanced
|
|
at Bud.
|
|
"Hi Dana." Bud said, with a particularly lavicious smile.
|
|
Mulder glared at him surreptitiously. "I was on the phone with him
|
|
when...- can I go in and see her?"
|
|
"Go ahead, but let her rest if she gets tired."
|
|
Mulder knocked briefly and went in. Lenny was sitting up in bed,
|
|
grinning at him sheepishly. "Lenny," he let his eyes slide away. "I'm
|
|
sorry; I should have been watching." He stopped when he heard her
|
|
scribbling away on a pad of paper. She ripped off the sheet and gave it
|
|
to him.
|
|
"It's not your fault." the note read. "I'm an adult. You're not my
|
|
baby-sitter."
|
|
"But still,-"
|
|
She smacked the bed covers and shook her finger at him, then wrote
|
|
something else.
|
|
"Drop it." she wrote. "You didn't tell Dana what I told you, did
|
|
you?"
|
|
"No reason to." he answered. "Even if she did believe it, it wont
|
|
help her with her case. Did you give her a description of the guy?"
|
|
She dug a note out of the crumpled bits of paper. It listed a limited
|
|
description.
|
|
"I didn't see much, either." he said. He took a slip of paper out of
|
|
his pocket. "Anything you want to add to this before I give it to Bud?"
|
|
She shook her head.
|
|
"He's going to be ecstatic. A spectral manifestation. Do you think
|
|
it was your chair jiggler?"
|
|
She nodded. After a moment, she wrote another note. It read "You're
|
|
missing a golden opportunity here. You can tell me anything you want,
|
|
and I can't talk back."
|
|
He looked at the note for a moment. "It's not as much fun that way."
|
|
She gave him a big smile, then sighed with frustration.
|
|
"Well," he said, putting down the notes and moving closer. "maybe we
|
|
can still play. Let's see if you can find a way to tell me what's on
|
|
your mind right now."
|
|
Her smile came back, and she leaned in to kiss him.
|
|
A moment later, Scully walked it. "I think- oh, I-"
|
|
"It's all right." Mulder said, and stood up. "Bud and I have some
|
|
work to do. Scully, how long can you stay? I'll be back to relieve you
|
|
when-" He had to stop, because Lenny jumped out of bed, pointed toward
|
|
her two perfectly good legs, and shooed him out the door. "O.k., o.k.,
|
|
I'll be back tonight."
|
|
Lenny gave him a thank-you-very-much smile, and shut the door.
|
|
Scully was still staring. "You have got to be kidding."
|
|
Lenny indicated she begged to differ.
|
|
"How? Good Lord, why?"
|
|
With a sigh and a shrug, Lenny hopped back onto the bed.
|
|
"This isn't fair; I can't get any details."
|
|
Lenny leaned against the wall, her hands behind her head and a
|
|
self-satisfied grin on her face.
|
|
"Well, sober up." Scully got back to business. "We've got about
|
|
eight hours before the evening edition hits the stands, and I'll bet
|
|
anything you're in it. You'd better come up with something good between
|
|
now and then, before your parents march right out here and put an end to
|
|
your little bohemian adventure. Oh, and I'd leave out any reference to
|
|
the dancing dinette, or you'll find yourself in a posh establishment
|
|
with lovely rolling hills, and bars on the windows." She paused,
|
|
mellowed, and smiled. "This is like back in school. I was always
|
|
fishing you out of trouble."
|
|
Lenny looked shocked and appalled. She scribbled out three words.
|
|
"Billy Harken's note."
|
|
Scully smiled and blushed a little. "O.k., so there was that one
|
|
time. Well, that time you helped me cram for the Lit. exam."
|
|
Lenny nodded, vindicated.
|
|
"So now will you tell me what scared away the attacker?"
|
|
Fortunately, there was readily available sign language for the phrase
|
|
Lenny chose to express.
|
|
|
|
When Mulder knocked on Lenny's door at around midnight, she answered
|
|
wearing a long sleeved, off the shoulder, black cocktail dress.
|
|
"About time you showed up." She said in a low gravelly voice.
|
|
"Did I miss something?" He asked.
|
|
"Not yet. I just got back from dinner at my parent's house. Had to
|
|
put in an appearance."
|
|
"Clever." he said, touching the pearl choker she wore to hide the
|
|
bruises.
|
|
"Come on in. Bud's already here."
|
|
"Too bad." he mumbled, and followed her in. "So, Bud; were you
|
|
camped out in the hallway?"
|
|
"I'd say it was worth the wait." Bud grinned with an only partly mock
|
|
leer. "Don'tcha love the voice? She's got a kinda Patricia Neal thing
|
|
going there."
|
|
"Yeah, right. What are you doing here?"
|
|
"He wanted to convince me to sit in the chair." Lenny answered.
|
|
"From the beginning."
|
|
"And?"
|
|
"I agreed."
|
|
"You sure you want to do that?"
|
|
"I want this over. Besides, I guess I owe it to her. She probably
|
|
saved my life. The least I can do is find out what it is she wants."
|
|
"I took the description home," Bud said, "and tried to pin down a
|
|
time period for the clothing. No luck."
|
|
"If you gentlemen will excuse me, I think I'll get changed."
|
|
"Not on my account, I hope." Bud grinned again.
|
|
Mulder shot him a disparaging look, and followed Lenny down the short
|
|
hallway. "I need to tell you something." he called after her. She
|
|
left the bedroom door open, letting him follow her in. He shut the door
|
|
behind him.
|
|
"Isn't this where you say something macho, like you think I clean up
|
|
pretty good?"
|
|
"No, this is where I show you this." He pulled a newspaper out of his
|
|
coat pocket and unfolded it. Across the top of the page read "Socialite
|
|
attacked by Ripper".
|
|
"Thank God I got to my parents before they saw that. Oh, that picture
|
|
must be five years old! Hey, should they be allowed to print that? I
|
|
mean, what if that guy decides he wants to get the one that got away?
|
|
Now he knows who I am."
|
|
"Exactly what I was thinking." He dropped the paper on the bed.
|
|
"You're going to have to be extra careful. The way I see it, you can
|
|
ask for police protection,..."
|
|
"Or?"
|
|
"Move out of here. Preferably in with someone else."
|
|
"I'm not going back to my parents. I've been all over this with
|
|
Dana."
|
|
"I wasn't thinking of your parents."
|
|
"Well-" Lenny's jaw dropped when she caught on. Closing her mouth,
|
|
she paced a little. "My job. I have to be able to get to and from
|
|
work."
|
|
"That's another thing. You need to take a vacation, or quit. If he
|
|
finds out that's part of your normal routine,-"
|
|
"I can't quit my job."
|
|
"Lenny, we're talking about your life here."
|
|
"Exactly. I need a job to live. I can't afford to be out of work."
|
|
"Lenny," he walked up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders.
|
|
"You can afford it. I accessed your bank balance,-"
|
|
"You WHAT?!" She spun around to face him.
|
|
"There's over two hundred thousand-"
|
|
"You had no right! Besides, that's my parents' money. I explained
|
|
that to you."
|
|
"It's a matured trust fund."
|
|
"It's-" She cut short, glaring at him. "It's only for emergencies."
|
|
"Well," he laughed bitterly, "I'd say this qualifies as an
|
|
emergency."
|
|
Her shoulders fell, and she looked away. "Why?" she asked quietly.
|
|
"Because I don't want to see you in the papers again."
|
|
"No," she shook her head. "That's not the whole truth."
|
|
"Maybe when I get the whole truth, I'll give the whole truth."
|
|
Her head snapped up, and she stared at him for awhile. "Isn't there
|
|
some kind of fire law or something that limits how many issues you can
|
|
cram into a room at one time?"
|
|
"Are you going to move out of here?"
|
|
"I need to think about it."
|
|
"I think it should be tonight."
|
|
"Don't push me." She picked up the newspaper and threw it onto the
|
|
floor. "Damn!" she said, looking up at him. "What you did was rotten,
|
|
and you know it. I shouldn't forgive you, and maybe I wont, but I
|
|
probably will; because...because...-I don't know why. Because by now
|
|
I'm so screwed up in the head I don't know what I'm doing."
|
|
"Really? You strike me as the type who always knows what she's
|
|
doing."
|
|
Lenny laughed silently. "No, I only say I always know what I'm
|
|
doing." She shook her head, smiling faintly. "You know, I think I
|
|
could hate you."
|
|
"That's not the truth."
|
|
"You're right. Now get out, so I can change. I don't fancy thrashing
|
|
around on the floor in my good dress."
|
|
He couldn't resist it. "Not even for me?"
|
|
"Out!"
|
|
|
|
Lenny sat, waiting for something to happen. Wires snaked from her
|
|
body, and the chair itself, to various pieces of equipment. There was
|
|
no sound, but the whir of machinery.
|
|
Suddenly, she cried out and stiffened. Without looking, Bud thrust
|
|
his arm out to restrain Mulder.
|
|
"Look at the readings." Bud said. "She's fine."
|
|
"Isn't her heart rate too high?"
|
|
"For what? A quick walk around the block could get it higher than
|
|
that. Relax."
|
|
Tears silently rolled down Lenny's cheeks.
|
|
"Bud,"
|
|
"She's fine. Look at her brain waves. All within normal
|
|
parameters."
|
|
"Since when are you a doctor? Aren't the people you examine usually
|
|
already dead?"
|
|
Bud craned his neck to look at his friend. "You know, you got a real
|
|
mean streak in you. You might wanna work on that."
|
|
"Just watch the monitors."
|
|
Lenny started to move. "O.k," she said. "O.k., I promise....No,
|
|
I'll make sure...Yes. You can." With a shuddering sigh, she woke up.
|
|
"Well?" Mulder and Bud said simultaneously.
|
|
Lenny leaned forward and wiped her face with her hands. She looked
|
|
>from one to the other, as she peeled electrodes off various parts of her
|
|
body. "Gimmie a minute." she said quietly.
|
|
Bud went around shutting off equipment, except for an audio cassette
|
|
recorder. Mulder stood up and paced a little.
|
|
"Do you want anything?" he asked. "Some coffee?"
|
|
"Oh, geez; that'd be great." she said, looking up. "Thanks."
|
|
"No problem."
|
|
By the time he got back and handed her the steaming cup, she was
|
|
ready.
|
|
"Her name is Naomi Cooper. She grew up in Groton Massachusetts. She
|
|
lost her father and two brothers to the war. That's the Civil War, by
|
|
the way. She and her mother went to live at her grandparent's house,
|
|
but it was hard. One day, she cut her hair and signed up."
|
|
Bud was about to speak, but Lenny cut him off.
|
|
"She went by the name of Nathan Cooper, her youngest brother who had
|
|
died in childbirth. That's how she got adequate documentation; though
|
|
by those days, they weren't really checking too hard. She saw some
|
|
action, got promoted to corporal, even made some friends. Once, in
|
|
Virginia, her unit came across a farm house. None of the men were home.
|
|
She was sick for a week over what the soldiers did there. She still
|
|
believed in the cause, though, so she kept on. After all, rumors of
|
|
what the Rebel men did were even worse.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
From archer77@ix.netcom.com Sun Nov 13 01:12:26 1994
|
|
Path: udel!news.sprintlink.net!howland.reston.ans.net!ix.netcom.com!netnews
|
|
From: archer77@ix.netcom.com (Michael Francis)
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
|
|
Subject: Just Like Old Times, PART 4 END
|
|
Date: 13 Nov 1994 03:04:02 GMT
|
|
Organization: Netcom
|
|
Lines: 313
|
|
Distribution: world
|
|
Message-ID: <3a3vn3$kiv@ixnews1.ix.netcom.com>
|
|
NNTP-Posting-Host: ix-aus1-09.ix.netcom.com
|
|
|
|
Just Like Old Times, Conclusion
|
|
|
|
"Her company was on it's way to resupply, when they got ambushed by a
|
|
rag-tag outnumbered group of escaped POWs. She was shot in the
|
|
shoulder. All she could think of, was what was going to happen when her
|
|
countrymen tried to put on a field dressing. She found a hole; probably
|
|
a mortar crater, crawled in, and waited to die. She just lay there,
|
|
hoping no one from either side found her. It took her two days to die.
|
|
She says-" Lenny stopped a moment, getting control of her voice.
|
|
"She's buried beside this building. I guess she picked me because I'm a
|
|
woman; because she thought it would be safe. She never showed herself
|
|
to anyone, until last night. She saw what that man did, last time. She
|
|
couldn't stand to see it again."
|
|
She stood up and paced. "We have to dig her up and move her."
|
|
"Lenny," Mulder began."
|
|
"No, I promised."
|
|
"I know. I was going to say, maybe we can ask Scully to supervise it.
|
|
We can't do it ourselves,- besides. She can do the autopsy and try to
|
|
find any records. We'll help her with that. If what you say is true,
|
|
you may be able to get her into Arlington."
|
|
"No!" Lenny shuddered. "No. Someplace nice. Away from- oh God."
|
|
She put her face in her hands. "I can't believe- "
|
|
"Did the Ripper trigger the accelerated activity?" Bud asked.
|
|
"I think so."
|
|
"Bud, give it a rest." Mulder said, putting an arm around Lenny and
|
|
guiding her to the sofa.
|
|
Bud looked from one to the other, shrugged, and turned off the
|
|
recorder. He started to gather up his data, but the look on Mulder's
|
|
face convinced him to put it off till tomorrow. He said a quick good
|
|
bye, and left.
|
|
"You know," Lenny said, still a little shell-shocked, "as far as men
|
|
go, you're not so bad."
|
|
He wisely said nothing.
|
|
"She didn't just tell me all that stuff. Some of it, she let me see
|
|
her memories. It was as if I was there." She carefully put down her
|
|
coffee cup. "I think I'm gonna go be sick now."
|
|
"Need some help?" He helped her stand.
|
|
"No, I think it's pretty much gonna come up on it's own." She headed
|
|
to the bathroom.
|
|
"I'll be here when you're done, then."
|
|
Understandably, she didn't answer.
|
|
|
|
Lenny's boss gave her an indefinite unpaid leave, but she was pretty
|
|
sure she wouldn't be going back there. She took a room at an upscale
|
|
hotel, and closely followed the grave site investigation. Two days went
|
|
by before the skeleton was located. At the official exhumation, she
|
|
stood beside Mulder, still amazed that it was true.
|
|
Buttons from a union soldier's uniform were found with the skeleton,
|
|
and the left shoulder blade was chipped. The skeleton was carefully
|
|
lifted out and put into the back of an ambulance.
|
|
"I'll let you know what I find." Scully said, peeling off her gloves.
|
|
"So far, though, it looks just like you said it would."
|
|
"Thanks for taking this on." Lenny said. "It's- it would have been
|
|
important to her to have a woman do it."
|
|
"No problem. It's not like I'm getting anywhere with my case. This
|
|
may have scared him off."
|
|
She said good bye, and went to her car.
|
|
"Well," Lenny said, heading toward the tenement. "It's over."
|
|
Mulder followed her inside. "Except it isn't, is it." He paused in
|
|
the stairwell. "You thought you knew what was causing all this. That's
|
|
why Bud's findings never bothered you. You knew it was a ghost, or some
|
|
entity."
|
|
Lenny stared at him. "What are you-"
|
|
"You asked it if someone had sent it. Who? Who would send something
|
|
supernatural to you? And why did you ask me if the Ripper killings
|
|
were ritualistic? You thought you knew what that was about, too. Until
|
|
you were attacked; then you weren't sure."
|
|
"What brought this on?"
|
|
"Naomi communicated fear to you that first time. You said "don't let
|
|
them find me". You didn't know her story, so when I asked you about it,
|
|
you thought it was something you let slip. Who are you hiding from,
|
|
Lenny?"
|
|
She shook her head. "You been out in the sun too long. I need to get
|
|
some things out of my apartment, excuse me." She headed up the stairs,
|
|
with Mulder on her heels.
|
|
"What's the family business?" he asked. "Why don't you want to touch
|
|
their money?"
|
|
"Look, you haven't exactly come clean, either." she stomped up the
|
|
stairs. "Why don't you and Dana want to be seen in public together?
|
|
What happened to you to make you so suspicious of everyone? And is it
|
|
just paranoia, or are they really out to get you?"
|
|
Reaching her floor in record time, she jammed the key in the door and
|
|
opened it. "I'll tell you what, G-man. Make you a deal. I'll tell you
|
|
mine, if you tell me yours."
|
|
He stood in the doorway glaring and tightlipped. Slamming the door
|
|
open, he pushed past her. Looking around, he grabbed her transistor
|
|
radio and headed to the door. "Come on."
|
|
"What's that for?" she pointed at the radio. When he didn't answer,
|
|
she figured it out. "Cover music?" she laughed, then laughed some
|
|
more. Taking the radio from him, she set it down and took his hand.
|
|
"There's more in heaven and earth to worry about than parabolic
|
|
antennas, Horatio."
|
|
Stunned, once again, he followed her in. "How do you know about
|
|
parabolic antennas?" he asked.
|
|
"You think you guys are the only ones who read Tom Clancy? Look;
|
|
lemme grab what I need, then I know a place where we can talk."
|
|
She stuffed some clothes in a duffel bag, then led the way out. At
|
|
her direction, they drove some way south, to a semi-suburban area. He
|
|
pulled up in front of an imitation Cape Cod salt box cottage.
|
|
"Just let me do the talking." she said as they walked up to the front
|
|
door. She rang the bell, and a young woman came to the door.
|
|
"We're closed." she said.
|
|
Lenny said a word Mulder had never heard before, and for some reason
|
|
could not remember afterward. The girl started to step back, then
|
|
peered more closely at Lenny. "Pape!" she spat.
|
|
"I'm not with them." Lenny explained.
|
|
"Still, a Pape. Take your business else-"
|
|
"Tina!" came a strident voice from inside the house.
|
|
The girl moved to one side, admitting an old woman with flaming red
|
|
hair, and redder lips.
|
|
"Nehna Liz." Lenny said, smiling.
|
|
"I knew it." The old woman nodded. "And not alone, I see. Didn't I
|
|
tell you that-"
|
|
"Yes." Lenny cut her off. "We just need a clean room for about an
|
|
hour."
|
|
Liz, the old woman, shooed Tina away to take care of some chore.
|
|
"Come in. I've just put fresh clove-balls in the parlor. It should do
|
|
nicely."
|
|
Lenny followed her in, motioning for Mulder to follow. They ended up
|
|
in a small sitting room, profusely decorated with country gitch. In
|
|
each corner, hung an apple covered with cloves.
|
|
"How lovely, Nehna Liz." Lenny said. "Thank you so much for your
|
|
hospitality."
|
|
"Private, too." Liz said, grabbing a broom from the corner. "One
|
|
moment." She swung the broom in low strokes, rather then sweeping with
|
|
it. At one point she waggled a finger at Lenny and said "Always mind
|
|
the corners!" Finally, she sighed "There, that's done. Come to the
|
|
kitchen when you're through."
|
|
Mulder waited until the door closed, then turned to Lenny. "What the
|
|
hell-"
|
|
"One of the less popular sects, but no less effective. Look:" she
|
|
moved aside a heavy drape. There was no window, just metal sheeting.
|
|
"Lead." she explained. "The whole room is lead lined. Just a nod
|
|
toward modern surveillance. Sit down."
|
|
He shook his head, but sat. "Now will you tell me what's going on?"
|
|
"Uh-uh. Since you like being fair, and since you were the one to
|
|
bring it up, you go first."
|
|
He was about to protest, but decided there was no use. So he told her
|
|
everything. Well, everything she would believe; which in view of recent
|
|
events was quite a bit. But, of course, not all. He couldn't quite
|
|
bring himself to that.
|
|
Lenny nodded, stood, and began to pace. "I'm glad you went first."
|
|
she said. "That makes things a little easier for me. I didn't lie when
|
|
I said I didn't want to go into the family business."
|
|
She turned to him. "Don't let what I'm going to tell you leave this
|
|
room. Don't even think about it too much. And God, don't tell Dana.
|
|
She has no idea."
|
|
He agreed, and she went on.
|
|
"First off, I'm a traitor. I am actively betraying my family. I
|
|
don't excuse it, but I can explain why. Dana probably told you Papes
|
|
came over on the Mayflower. Where they were before, I can only guess;
|
|
the records are unclear. What she didn't tell you, what she didn't
|
|
know, is that the seed money for the family fortune came from turning in
|
|
alleged witches and accepting their property as awards and compensation.
|
|
And that's the least dirty family secret. "
|
|
"Criminals and ruthless business man. You may as well be describing
|
|
half the wealthy families in America; or even the world."
|
|
"With one exception. Papes didn't turn in witches for fun and profit
|
|
alone. See, if you made accusations, no one looked at you. They did it
|
|
to turn suspicion away from themselves. They were the real witches."
|
|
She let that sink in, and went on. "When I was twelve, my grandmother
|
|
began to show an interest in me. First. she had me do seemingly
|
|
innocuous things: Look at pictures, perform pointless tasks, touch
|
|
animal carcasses. Sometimes she would lay pictures of people on the
|
|
floor, and have me step on them. There were hundreds of little things,
|
|
all meant to erode resistance, and inure me to what would come later.
|
|
By the time I was sneaking cigarettes and discussing prom possibilities
|
|
with Dana, I'd moved up to desecration of quasi-sacred objects, like
|
|
glow in the dark plastic crucifixes. I knew it wasn't normal; that most
|
|
peoples grandmothers baked cookies and played bingo. I was proud of
|
|
being different. Besides, I was having a great time in school.
|
|
Everything, I mean everything went my way."
|
|
"So what went wrong?" he asked.
|
|
"I dunno. Things started to bother me. I'd be in the middle of
|
|
something, and I'd have to stop. I couldn't go on. I knew, all of the
|
|
sudden, that it wasn't right. I've been told it was spiritual
|
|
intervention, but I think I just...woke up. Had a crisis in faith, so
|
|
to speak. My parents, they don't know about any of this. The sect is
|
|
matriarchal, so Dad was never in on it, and mom was an outsider."
|
|
"Your grandmother is the leader?"
|
|
"She's...up there."
|
|
Mulder rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "And you?"
|
|
"No." Lenny turned to face him. She looked pale and shaken. "I'm
|
|
small potatoes. They can replace me if they want, they just don't want.
|
|
In two hundred plus years, there has never been a Pape who just dropped
|
|
out. Right now, we're still at the firm but gentle wooing stage. They
|
|
don't want to upset my parents."
|
|
Mulder began to put things together. "You thought the dancing dinette
|
|
was something your grandmother...conjured up. That's why you asked if
|
|
somebody sent it."
|
|
"Something like that. Just a reminder, you know? And I still wasn't
|
|
sure it was real, until you and Dana saw it."
|
|
"And you thought the murders were done by them?"
|
|
"Warnings, or threats. Then he attacked me and Naomi appeared. Two
|
|
theories shot down at once."
|
|
He sat up. "You mentioned betrayal."
|
|
She nodded. "I knew I was going to run into trouble sooner or later,
|
|
so I started buying favors and protection with-" she began to pace
|
|
again. "As a Pape, my-" she paused to look at him. "You have to
|
|
understand,-"
|
|
"Go on."
|
|
"My hair and nails and blood are very valuable to opposing sects.
|
|
Initially, they approached me. Guess word of my fall from the nest got
|
|
around. Look; I know this all sounds crazy,-"
|
|
"I've heard crazier; some of which came true."
|
|
"Yeah, well; I wish this wasn't. What a mess." She shook her head.
|
|
"You have to admit, though, my guys are badder than your guys."
|
|
Lenny laughed bitterly. "Lemme hip ya, G-man: Some of your guys are
|
|
my guys."
|
|
Mulder took a moment to let that sink in. It would explain a few
|
|
things. "Do you have names?"
|
|
"Not on your life."
|
|
"I'm a big boy, I can handle it."
|
|
"I can't"
|
|
He let it drop. "I get the feeling there's more."
|
|
She steeled herself. "The New Mexican council brought to light a
|
|
prophecy. I've been in contact with several sects." She shook her head
|
|
again. "When I was seven, I wanted to be a fireman. Now I may end up
|
|
as Joan of frigging Arc. I either run, which isn't really an option; or
|
|
stand and fight."
|
|
"Why isn't running an option?"
|
|
"My grandmother's a fairly potent telepath. I just think the wrong
|
|
thing, and she's hot on my trail. So, I stay. except there's a scalpel
|
|
wielding maniac, who may be trying to track me down."
|
|
"My offer's still good."
|
|
"Tempting, but I don't want to get you involved in this."
|
|
"How noble." He said sarcastically.
|
|
"What?"
|
|
"No, really; you have my vote for sainthood."
|
|
"Screw you." she fumed.
|
|
"Now there's an idea."
|
|
"look, you could just tell me you don't believe me."
|
|
"I do believe you." He stood. "At least, I believe you believe.
|
|
What's more, if they believe it, that's enough to make them genuinely
|
|
dangerous: witches or not. So I guess belief is a moot point. The
|
|
real point is how they have you jumping through hoops for them. Scully
|
|
said you never let anyone tell you how to live. Why start now?"
|
|
She stood with her hands on her hips. "Now ain't you just the wisest
|
|
lil' G-man."
|
|
"Fine." he headed for the door. "I hope you and your martyr complex
|
|
will be happy together."
|
|
"Wait-" she called, then smiled a little. "God, you can be such a
|
|
son of a bitch."
|
|
"Lenny, whatever these people's trip is, they don't care about you.
|
|
They'll send you out as a sacrifice, then talk about you like a hero
|
|
when you're gone. But you'll still be gone. As for your grandmother:
|
|
she left you pretty much alone this long. Why should she pick now to go
|
|
after you? And if she's that bad, wont she just find you no matter
|
|
where you go?"
|
|
"And what if I am really crazy?"
|
|
"Knowing what you know about me now, do you really think I'm the one
|
|
to judge someone else's sanity? I'm not too sure I have such a firm
|
|
grip on my own."
|
|
She smiled a little. "So we just shove all our his and hers matching
|
|
delusions in a closet, and pretend everything's normal?"
|
|
"Except the "ripper". He's real."
|
|
"Great. Our anchor in reality is a maniac with a fetish for Dewy
|
|
Decimal."
|
|
He smiled back at her. "Can we get out of here now?"
|
|
"Will you dance with me in your kitchen?"
|
|
"All night, if you want."
|
|
"Well." she took his hands in hers. "How could I possibly resist an
|
|
offer like that?"
|
|
|
|
On the way home Lenny fell asleep, so Mulder had some time to sort
|
|
things out. She could be delusional, but that didn t fit with
|
|
everything else. After all, the old woman and Tina weren t delusions,
|
|
and things they said supported Lenny s claims. That left the
|
|
possibility that she was telling the truth, which meant he was going to
|
|
be sharing his house with an apostate witch. You don t run across those
|
|
every day. Either way, life was sure to be interesting for awhile.
|
|
He helped her carry in her things, which they d stopped by the hotel
|
|
to pick up. Digging up some clean linens, he made up the couch; a
|
|
superfluous gesture. Once all the busy work was done, he couldn t
|
|
resist showing off his stereo. She danced with him, barefoot, on his
|
|
livingroom rug.
|
|
The music seemed to last longer than it should have, or maybe they
|
|
just got impatient long before the music ended. Casually, they drifted
|
|
to the bedroom. There was a brief query and resolution to the condom
|
|
issue, and the usual awkward moments of too many clothes and confused
|
|
limbs.
|
|
He was fascinated by how she moved, how she looked, how she gently bit
|
|
the tender skin of his inner thigh.
|
|
She loved the way he watched her, the way he kissed her, the way he
|
|
never missed a beat when they fell off the bed.
|
|
Once, the phone rang. He reached up and yanked the cord out of the
|
|
wall, while never once taking his eyes off her. When they were
|
|
finished, he pulled a blanket off the bed and the fell asleep on the
|
|
floor.
|
|
He woke to the sound of someone pounding on the front door. Careful
|
|
not to wake her, he grabbed his pants and went to get rid of whoever it
|
|
was.
|
|
When he got back, she was gone.
|
|
|
|
He wasn t really surprised. It wasn t the first time someone he had
|
|
come to care about was gone from him. He did wonder how far she was
|
|
going to get without her clothes. Other than that, all he felt was
|
|
habitual resignation. That is, until Bud brought him a post card he d
|
|
received from New Mexico. It simply read Tell our friend the Raven
|
|
lied.
|
|
So much for nevermore.
|
|
|
|
Paul Kim sat stewing in Long Island Expressway traffic. He could sure
|
|
use a trip to Washington, but after the screw-up with that socialite
|
|
bitch, that was out. He was still torqued about losing a scalpel, but
|
|
he knew it was clean. A sloppy, sloppy mess, he thought. Well, time to
|
|
pick a new M.O. and a new town. Like the others, it had to be within a
|
|
single night s drive. Also, it had to be large enough to have creepy
|
|
little deserted hiding places where even the cops hated to go. He was
|
|
mentally reviewing the tri-state area, when The Boss came on the radio,
|
|
softly crooning about Philadelphia.
|
|
Paul Kim smiled.
|
|
|
|
|