THE PSYCHS OF MANHATTAN Page 17

  ‘Sorry for the short notice James, but how do you feel about flying in the commissioner’s jet to visit Vegas?’

  ‘A trip to Vegas in a jet? I wouldn’t miss it for the world, especially if I’m going to witness the arrest of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.’

  FORTY

  The Poisoned Dwarf

  Magda Sleeman was travelling home after shopping for some light snacks for the Book Club Meetup that was going to be held at her place, when she suddenly realized she had forgotten to buy coffee. Rather than turn back, she decided to call her husband and ask him to buy a jar on his way home.

  ‘Hello, it’s Mrs Sleeman speaking, may I speak to my husband?’

  ‘I’m sorry Mrs Sleeman, he has already left.’

  ‘Oh ok. That’s odd. I thought he was going to be at the Church until 5.00 pm.’

  ‘He may be at The Lord’s House of Therapy.’

  Magda rang her husband and wasn’t surprised when it went to message bank.

  She knew where The Lord’s House of Therapy was located. No one was allowed there, as it was for parishioners who wished for privacy while receiving spiritual healing. She looked at Helga playing with her doll in the front seat of the vehicle and bit her lower lip, then turned the wheel in the direction of Krampus Street, the street that was out of bounds. Her heart began to race but she reassured herself there was no harm in having a look as she parked the car.

  ‘Why aren’t we going home? Why have we parked here, Mommy?’ Helga asked.

  ‘I’m just here to see Daddy.’

  ‘Oh goodie!’ Helga squealed.

  ‘Helga, you stay here. I won’t be long.’

  ‘That’s not fair, I want to come. Please, please! I want to see Daddy.’

  ‘Ok, but stay close behind me and don’t make a noise. Be as quiet as a mouse, like you are at church.’

  As Magda approached the property, a van was coming out through the security gates. She grabbed Helga’s hand and ducked for cover.

  ‘This is so exciting!’ Helga shouted.

  ‘Shoosh. You’ll go back to the vehicle if you’re not quiet.’

  Once the van disappeared, Magda walked towards the house. She could hear a young girl crying. She slipped inside the house gates. Why am I being so foolish? she wondered. It was unlike her to take risks. She wanted to leave but now, it was too late. The gates closed behind her.

  ‘Hello Magda, what brings you here?’ It was her husband’s voice.

  Magda jumped. After a moment’s pause, she caught her breath. ‘Hello Joseph, how did you know I was here?’

  Joseph smirked. ‘CCTV is useful. You don’t know who could be lurking around these corners.’

  ‘Hello Daddy, Mommy said we could see you.’

  ‘Did she now? Funny that.’ Sleeman gave his wife a piercing stare. ‘I thought you knew The Lord’s House of Therapy was off limits. My parishioners need their privacy.’

  Magda was good at massaging his ego. ‘I forgot to buy coffee for The Book Club Meetup tonight and I thought you might have a jar here. Besides, I couldn’t resist seeing the amazing work you do for those less fortunate. But of course, I wouldn’t want to intrude on personal therapy and the meetup group arrive at 6.00 pm so I better get going.’

  Joseph shook his head as he tsk-tsked. ‘I will have no such thing. Come on in and I will get you some coffee, and then you must be off.’

  ‘Ok darling, if you insist.’

  ‘Daddy, I heard a girl crying. Who is she?’

  ‘She is a girl who is crying for forgiveness. She has been a bad girl and needs to be punished. The Lord is helping her. She is asking for his help. It’s all part of God’s therapy.’

  ‘What is wrong with her, Daddy?’

  ‘She needs spiritual healing. You see darling, we must have parishioners cleansed of sin and impure thoughts if they want to enter the gates of heaven. They are lost souls and will be worthless to society if they are not healed.’

  Suddenly Magda felt queasy. She wasn’t sure whether it was her husband’s words or his demeanor that frightened her.

  Helga sensed her mom’s fear and her father’s different behavior. She stepped closer to her mom.

  * * *

  Little did the pastor know that the commissioner’s jet had landed at McCarran Airport and the police would be at his property within minutes.

  There was a Vegas cop waiting for them as soon as they disembarked from the plane. Sarah wondered how many cops were getting paid off by this pastor.

  ‘Hello. I’m Lieutenant Wilkins and this is Detective Christianson.’

  ‘Please to meet you. I’m Officer Eastwood. I’ve been told to take you to pastor Sleeman’s home.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. We need to go to The Lord’s House of Therapy.’

  The cop looked perplexed. ‘Ok…but why The Lord’s House of Therapy? He has a home address. I can take you there.’

  ‘Yes, we realize that, but it’s important we are taken to the Therapy House.’

  ‘The Therapy House it is.’

  As the cop drove them from the airport, Sarah noticed his dark beady eyes squinting at her in his rear-vision mirror.

  ‘What’s so important that you need to see the pastor?’

  ‘A diplomat from Manhattan will be visiting Vegas and we will be discussing security matters. Unfortunately, that’s all I can tell you. It’s highly classified.’

  ‘Yeah, I understand. I understand totally,’ the cop replied.

  James considered himself a good judge of character, but he wasn’t sure whether this cop was being genuine or sarcastic.

  After only a few minutes on the road, the cop veered into a gas station.

  ‘Why are we stopping here?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Sorry, Lieutenant. I need some gas. We don’t won’t to be stranded, do we?’ he replied.

  Sarah inconspicuously took a quick glance at the gas level. From what she could see, the tank was nowhere near empty. As he filled the tank, Sarah whispered to James without moving her lips, ‘James, can you see how much gas this guy is pumping?’

  ‘I can try.’ James moved slightly forward, careful not to move his head, and glanced sideways.

  ‘He’s filled up ten dollars. Why would he need to fill the tank when it’s almost full? The pastor’s Therapy House is only fifteen minutes away.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Sarah whispered.

  As the cop walked into the gas station, Sarah yelled, ‘Let’s move!’

  They charged in through the station doors, but it was too late, he was on his cell.

  ‘Freeze! Put your hands up!’ Sarah screamed.

  The cop dropped his cell.

  ‘Well, what have we here. Let me guess. You were having a nice chat with your friend pastor Sleeman. Would that be right, Officer?’ James asked.

  Sarah couldn’t believe it. Not five minutes on Vegas soil and she was handcuffing a cop. Now she understood the imam’s fear.

  Sarah shoved the cop towards his patrol car. ‘Now, Officer Eastwood. You’re going to be really smart and direct us to The Lord’s House of Therapy, unless you would rather spend the rest of your life in the pen for being an accessory to multiple murders.’

  FORTY-ONE

  Wolf’s Lair

  Pastor Sleeman ended his call, having received the tip-off. The police were on their way. He knew it was over. He knew it was pointless to run. To him the solution was death and that meant taking Magda and Helga with him. He believed his followers and Magda had reported him. He was seething, furious that they had lied and betrayed him. I will show the world. They will never forget me.

  ‘Who was that, darling?’ Magda asked.

  ‘It’s nothing. Just another follower looking for spiritual guidance. Come now and let’s get that coffee.’

  Once they were in the house, he led them down a staircase. ‘Come along, Helga. Come down the stairs.’

  The stairway led to a basement.

  His shorter leg and club foot was noticeabl
e as he side-stepped down.

  ‘Why are we going down here, Daddy? It looks creepy. Do you keep the coffee here?’

  Joseph didn’t answer.

  As they stepped inside the basement, they saw gold candles glowing from niches within reinforced concrete walls, and a bed positioned in the corner.

  ‘Why do you have candles, Joseph?’ Magda asked.

  ‘It removes evil toxins from the atmosphere and helps with spiritual healing.’

  As they entered the room, Helga pointed to the wall. ‘What’s that, Daddy? What’s that flag on the wall?’

  Magda followed the direction of her daughter’s finger. She froze with horror and disbelief. Draped across the wall was an equilateral cross with the emblem of an eagle.

  ‘Joseph, this is a Nazi emblem.’

  ‘Very clever, my darling Magda. You do know some history. Why do you think I changed your name to Magda? Joseph Goebbels and his wife Magda are my heroes of World War II.’

  ‘I don’t understand Joseph. What are you doing?’ Magda responded.

  ‘I am the Unit Leader for the National Socialist Party in Nevada. You see Magda, our destiny is a matter of choice and this is what I’ve chosen for us.’

  ‘But Joseph, you are not German, and you have a disability. Hitler would’ve gassed you in the war.’

  Joseph winced. ‘I am the chosen one and I don’t expect you to understand. We need to stay strong against the forces who go against our values and beliefs.’

  Helga looked at her mom for reassurance and squeezed her hand. ‘Mommy, I want to go home. Can we go now?’

  ‘Not yet, my precious one.’ Joseph stroked her plait.

  ‘Mommy, I want to go home. I’m scared.’

  ‘There, there. You stay here until I get you both a drink that tastes yummy and will help you to relax.’

  The pastor climbed back up the basement stairs, where he wasted no time in getting the drinks and concealing a gun in his jacket.

  Magda looked across the room. There was no escape.

  ‘Mommy, Daddy’s scaring me. I want to go. This place is creepy, even the candles are spooky.’

  Suddenly from the darkness, they heard a voice. ‘Please help me. Please, he is going to kill me.’

  Magda could see a section of the room concealed by a drape. She slowly edged forward until her fingers touched it and as she pulled it aside, she saw a sickening sight. A naked boy was suspended by his arms from the ceiling.

  ‘My name is Sean. I’m from Manhattan. Please help me.’

  Helga’s mouth opened with shock, her innocent eyes staring in disbelief.

  Magda looked at Sean and pressed her finger to her lips. ‘You must be quiet. I will help you.’

  Magda bent down and whispered to Helga, ‘Helga, you have to do the most important thing of your life. You have to be brave. We are going to play a pretend game. Remember that game we play and you’re the super hero?’

  ‘Yes, Mommy.’

  ‘You are going to be that super hero like the character in your book. Do you understand?’

  Helga knew exactly what her mom meant. ‘Yes. I understand.’

  Sean pointed to a hook on the wall where a key was suspended. In seconds, Magda grabbed the key and unlocked Sean from his chains, then she scanned the room. She could see there was no way out but back up the stairs.

  ‘Mommy, Daddy’s coming back.’

  Sean cowered behind Magda’s legs, his fear so overwhelming that he was shaking involuntarily. Malnourished and exhausted, he mumbled a prayer.

  Joseph quietly shut the basement door, slid the bolt into place, and descended the stairs. Once he entered the basement room, he noticed the open drape. His toy was no longer suspended but crouched behind Magda. His suspicions were confirmed. Magda was out to destroy him.

  He turned to his wife. ‘So, Magda, I see you have met my other guest. The more the merrier, that’s what I say.’ He placed the drinks on a side table and pulled out his pistol.

  Helga trembled by her mom’s side. She had to pretend to be brave.

  The pastor heard the voice of a young girl behind him. He swung around. ‘Who are you? How did you get in here?’ It wasn’t possible that someone else had entered the basement.

  Magda and Helga were bewildered. He was talking to someone who wasn’t there, like a madman.

  ‘Don’t you recognize me?’ Joseph heard the young girl say to him. ‘Come closer. Take a good look.’

  ‘Why would I recognize a scrawny, pale child?’ Joseph aimed his pistol at her and waved it back and forth. ‘Get over there with the others, now!’ he yelled.

  ‘Mommy, there’s no one there. Who is Daddy talking to?’

  Magda shook her head to silence Helga.

  ‘I can see you still don’t know who I am,’ she said.

  He thought her face was familiar. His demonic eyes fixed on the girl as he raised his gun and fired. The bullet passed right through her, ricocheted off the wall, and penetrated his leg.

  In his psychotic rage, he frothed at the mouth and desperately hurled the drink tray at her. It too passed through her, hitting several candles off a shelf. The candles landed on the bed and within seconds, the bedding was alight. Smoke began filling the room.

  Helga yelled. ‘Mommy, Mommy, everything is burning!’

  Magda grabbed Sean’s and her daughter’s hands and they scrambled up the stairs. Helga listened to her father’s ranting all the way until they reached the top of the stairway. Once at the top, Magda desperately pulled the bolt back and opened the door. They could hear a police siren.

  Joseph was on the ground aiming the gun up the stairway.

  ‘Joseph, you must remember me. I am Anne Frank. I’m surprised you don’t remember me, especially as you love to wallow in past atrocities.’

  His attention flicked back to the vision and his expression changed from arrogance to confusion.

  ‘You remember me now, don’t you? I’m sure of all people, you would recognize me. I was dead and now I am alive.’

  ‘You’re tricking me! You are not real!’ he screamed. ‘You cannot be Anne Frank; you are dead. You are all traitors.’

  Filled with rage, Joseph shrieked, ‘My people have betrayed me! They’re all liars! They are nothing but garbage.’

  The vision spoke to him calmly. ‘You blame others for your physical imperfections and childhood rejection. It is sad to think you did not find beauty in this world and became an evil monster who vomits hate speech. It is now up to you to find any goodness within you. How you end this lies in your own hands.’

  Dissociated from reality, Joseph stumbled towards Anne, shaking and with spittle forming on his lips, blinded by his lust for control. His hands reached out to grip her neck but there was no one there.

  Flames were now licking the Nazi flag.

  Joseph stood upright facing the black and white eagle. He raised his arm in a Nazi salute as he held the pistol in his left hand.

  ‘Heil, Mein Fuhrer!’ he yelled.

  He aimed the pistol to his left temple and pressed the trigger.

  In his haste, he had fired the bullet through his left eye socket and it had exited through the right side of his skull. Blood splatter decorated the eagle as he fell to the floor.

  FORTY-TWO

  A Means to an End

  Red dropped me off on Lewis. ‘Thanks, Red. I’ll let you know what happens. I owe you big time.’

  ‘Shoot that motherfucker in the balls. Animal would love that.’

  ‘With pleasure,’ I replied.

  Red took off with a wave.

  I looked and felt like shit. I needed a quick shower and then it was payback time. Once at my apartment door I wondered how I was going to get in without my keys. Then I thought of the external stairs but before I could turn around, I heard a familiar voice.

  ‘Hello, Curtis.’

  I froze. Shit! Now I’m truly fucked. I had no energy to run. I was sure I’d watched my back. Obviously a fuckin’ skilled pre
dator.

  ‘Don’t turn around or you’re a dead man. You really think you could outsmart a psychologist? You think you can come here and take everything away from me? Now put the gun and your cell on the ground!’

  I reluctantly squatted down and placed them by my feet.

  ‘The problem with you, Curtis, is you’re a small-time loser. Now, let me tell you what’s going to happen. We’re going to walk out of here and then go for a little walk up Lewis. Any sudden movement and you’re dead, hear me? I would just be the innocent victim defending myself. You don’t get it, Curtis. But don’t feel bad. Most people like you are just plain stupid. Because of that, I have a bank account with enough money to do anything I want. Now start walking!’

  Fuckin’ bastard, I thought. ‘You’re not a psychologist. You’re a thug. Your PhD gave you a license to kill. You hide behind your fancy words when you’re nothing but a depraved killer. A fuckin’ monster. The police are looking for me. You haven’t got a chance in getting away with this.’

  It couldn’t end here. I prayed I was being watched by hidden surveillance.

  ‘Move. Keep walking and don’t turn around.’

  Step by step I was being directed out of the apartment block and along Lewis.

  ‘Turn right, Curtis, we don’t want anyone seeing us now, do we.’

  Turning right meant being in a darkened alleyway hidden from the streets. I didn’t believe in God until I felt a gun on my neck. I prayed to Jesus and Allah, hoping two was better than one.

  ‘You’re a fuckin’ deviant, a murderer.’

  ‘Killing you will relieve my tension. That makes deviance socially functional don’t you think?’

  ‘Go to hell, you motherfucker!’

  ‘Shut up and keep moving.’

  I continued down the alleyway until I was facing a brick wall. I was desperate to keep him talking. ‘The police know everything. It won’t be long before they’re here.’