"Jesus, is that really true?" asked Jessalee.
"You haven't heard anything yet. Charles Mondurge had used the fortune his mother gained from the studio and by the late '90s he had multiplied the amount ten times what it was in the '20s. He was easily one of the most powerful of people in the world of show business. You knew he had a hand in everything, but never saw him. Someone who always seemed to be working in the shadows yet never fails."
"Yeah, I remember this guy now, he had a real thing for 'bad girls' anytime you ever did see him, it was with women like Evelyn Nesbit, Louise Brooks, Nita Naldi. In fact, he used to be host to some of Jack Nicholson's famous parties. Nicholson once said of Mondurge, 'He's the only guy I know who has a better deal with the devil than I do,' " said James.
"Like Hugh Hefner, he has an army of young girls willing to give into any of his wildest desires. He lives the typical Hollywood life that consists of a never-ending supply of money, sex and power. In late 2000, he gets involved with two mysterious girls and he tells the world he's going to make them more famous than Jesus. Thirty-one days later on Halloween night he's found hanging naked in his shower. A hangman's noose, knotted 13 times around his neck, he's blindfolded and his hands are handcuffed behind his back. He has the words Babylon's Whore written on his ass in red lipstick. The police rule it a suicide," she said.
"Suicide? You've got to be kidding? If that's a suicide then I'm Mother-Fucking-Theresa," joked Jessalee.
"Exactly, although you gotta admit that is similar to Kritzler's death. I mean with the exception of barbed wire for handcuffs" Shelton joined in.
"And the lipstick covered asshole," smirked Jessalee. Everyone but Paige laughed. It was the first time there had been any levity in the room all day.
Sorry director, I didn't mean to interrupt, please continue," said Jessalee.
"The Hollywood police closed the file, but the LA bureau weren't satisfied especially since there wasn't any note and the only other people in the house with him at the time of the event were still living there. So I was ordered by my director to do a follow-up interview.
I drove alone up into the oldest part of the Hollywood Hills to where this massive stone manor sits looming over the city. I was met at the gate by this stunningly beautiful girl who, as, it turned out I later learned was Tarista. She led me up a marble staircase outside the mansion to a veranda. That's where I met Devonia. She spoke with voice of an angel and invited me inside. She escorted me through a series of oaken hallways that were covered in frescos and paintings from another time.
I followed her into a large hall where a massive fireplace lay against the wall in the center of the room. Above the fireplace was the painting of the Vatican, in flames. I couldn't stop staring at it. Devonia asked me, 'You like what you see?' but I couldn't answer. She walked up behind me and put one hand on my shoulder and took my other hand in hers as she pointed to the center of the painting. 'There, do you see it?' I didn't know what she was talking about and said 'no' as if I were lost in a trance. She interlaced her fingers with mine and pointed them together. 'Right there, do you see it now?' To my horror I saw what she was pointing at."
The group sat breathless listening to Paige tell the story.
"What was it?" asked Stasya.
Paige remained silent a moment. She looked up at everyone and remembered the moment as if it were yesterday. "I felt her velvet cheek pressing next to mine as she spoke softly. 'It's your baby. The one you killed, don't you see it there in the fire burning along with you?' she said as she kissed my cheek and backed away from me with her arms outstretched. I walked to the hearth of the fireplace and there she had laid out for me five branding irons."
Stasya felt the tears stinging her face as she listened. "I couldn't stop myself. I reached without hesitation and took each one and burned it into my skin until I had atoned for my sin of abortion."
No one spoke. No words seemed to be right in view of what everyone had just learned.
"The next time anyone saw me, I was found half naked walking along the shore of the Santa Monica beach. It took me a year to recover. The bureau charged them with attempted murder of a federal officer, but by then the Baranova Sisters were long gone. Charles Mondurge had left them his entire fortune. They were rich beyond measure. The only way we were ever going to capture them was if they let us and that is why they are in a Faraday Cage," she said somberly.
Chapter Thirty-One
The Faraday Cage
The six of them all stared at different parts of the room. No one seemed to be able to look the others in the eyes, but the feeling in the room had changed from one of anxiety and mistrust to understanding and mutual dedication. They were all here for a common purpose the only way they were going to accomplish it was to trust each other and work together.
"Let's go to work," said James. The request seemed to be exactly the words everyone needed to hear. Taking the initiative, Jessalee, opened a file and pulled several photocopied reports and passed them around the table.
"What you're looking at everyone is the blood analysis taken from Tarista and Devonia while they were unconscious. Judging from their appearance when we booked them, we weren't taking any chances. Point one. There are four different blood specimens on them and none of it belongs to them."
"You said earlier you knew one of the specimens belonged to your sister," stated James.
"That's right," replied Jessalee.
"How did you know that? All the evidence from her crime scene was destroyed in the fire."
"I understand, but she is my sister. I swabbed myself and ran a DNA test. It matches me. It's Valerie. The other three belong to, Amanda Carlyle, Hermann Kritzler, and Julie Jackson."
Hearing Julie's name suddenly made all of it real for James. She really was dead. Now he would never have a last chance to tell her that he never stopped loving her. James swallowed and tried to put thoughts of Julie out of his mind for the moment. "But no evidence of Kirkland's blood?"
"None," said Jessalee as Shelton and Summers breathed a sigh of relief.
"Since we are laying all of our cards here on the table. I have to tell you guys, I don't know what's true and what I might have imagined for the last two days. But when Agent Summers and I went to Kirkland's house, we found someone had ransacked it, obviously looking for something. We found writing on the wall in blood in one room and an occult painting in his living room. It also had writing on it."
Stasya looked up from her report. "What was the painting Inspector?"
"The Witches Sabbath by Goya," said Summers. "On the back of it there was writing in Russian, that read, 'The place where Angels will not tread' and the writing in the bedroom was also in Russian it said 'Julie Jackson burns in hell,' so I think we can safely assume that it was Tarista and Devonia who trashed Kirkland's house and murdered Julie," said Summers.
"Any idea what they could have been looking for Stasya?" asked Paige.
Stasya considered all that she had heard and shook her head. None of it seemed to make any sense.
"Anything else, Tom?" asked Shelton.
"Yes, I got a missed call on my cell phone. It came from Kirkland's house phone. It was a girl who left a message."
"What did she say?"
"She said, 'Kirkland isn't dead' and then hung up."