scare me.”
“They’re supposed to,” Chips replied, resuming his
place on the sofa. “It’s more thrill than scare when the
picture’s directed properly.”
Judith nudged Renie. “Chips directed this one,” she
whispered to her cousin.
“Jeez,” Renie sighed. “I guess I’ll shut up now.”
Joe edged past Renie to collect Judith’s tray.
“There’s a preseason NBA game on,” he said quietly.
“Care to join me upstairs?”
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277
“If this thing gets too gruesome, I might do that,”
Renie responded.
The movie’s opening shot followed a young woman
in late-nineteenth-century dress down a dark, winding
London street. She was obviously nervous, and
stopped periodically to look over her shoulder. As she
turned a corner, a light glowed from a narrow timberfronted building. Expressing relief, she pulled the iron
knocker on the door. To the accompaniment of creaking hinges and ominous music, the heavy door opened
slowly. The young woman rushed inside. The door
slammed shut behind her. Strong, hairy hands swung a
big ax. She screamed in terror. The hands and the ax
came down again and again as blood spurted, presumably from her unseen body.
“That’s it,” Renie said, getting up. “I’m going to
check out the basketball game. If I wanted brutality, I’d
watch hockey.”
Judith didn’t much blame her cousin but felt obligated to watch at least the first fifteen minutes of the
movie. The scene changed to what appeared to be an
interior of Scotland Yard. The policemen were discussing the crime spree that had been taking place in
London’s East End. They shook their heads a great
deal and muttered “Baffling” several times.
“Wow!” Ellie enthused. “This is sooo good. Watch,
Mrs. Flynn, Ben’s coming up in the next scene.”
Sure enough, Ben Carmody, dressed in the garb of a
nineteenth-century gentleman, sauntered up the same
street where the young woman had presumably been
murdered. It was daylight, and Ben carried a cane. He
stopped in front of the building where the ax-wielding
maniac had done his dirty deed. Ben looked up to the
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second story. Then, as a stout woman carrying a wicker
basket entered the street, he turned and disappeared
around a corner. Judith suddenly realized she’d seen
this before.
“Excuse me,” she said, getting up. “It’s after nine,
and I’m going to take our jack-o’-lanterns in. The
trick-or-treaters should all be home by now.”
As far as Judith could determine, the fog-filled culde-sac was empty. Taking the trio of pumpkins inside,
she found Renie in the kitchen.
“I thought you were going to watch the game with
Joe,” she said, placing the pumpkins on the counter.
“I’m stealing a Pepsi first,” Renie said, opening the
refrigerator. “Did you get scared, too?”
“Sort of,” Judith admitted. “But I think I’ve seen
that movie before, though I can’t imagine why. Joe and
I don’t like horror films, either.”
“Maybe you saw a preview,” Renie suggested, opening a can of Pepsi.
“Maybe.” Judith paced a bit. “That must be it. I certainly can’t remember anything else about The Virgin
Vessel. But the scene with Ben Carmody looked very
familiar.” She went to the sink and stared out the
kitchen window. Suddenly something clicked in her
brain. “Coz!” she cried, whirling around to face Renie.
“Do you remember that man I saw a couple of months
ago between our house and the Rankerses’ hedge?”
“What man?” Renie looked blank. “I don’t think
you mentioned it to me.”
“Maybe I didn’t,” Judith allowed. “It was after
Labor Day, when Skjoval Tolvang was working on the
house and the toolshed. Mr. Tolvang saw him first. He
thought the man was a city inspector.”
SILVER SCREAM
279
“Did you see this guy up close?” Renie asked.
“Fairly close,” Judith replied, pacing a little faster.
“He had a beard and glasses. He said he was looking
for a Mr. . . . I forget, it was an odd name. Anyway, he
hurried off after that.”
“Okay,” Renie said. “And your point is . . . ?”
“My point,” Judith said slowly, “is that the man I
saw outside the house may have been Ben Carmody.”
Renie thought Judith was imagining things, and said
so. “Why on earth would you think that?”
“Because of his height and build,” Judith said. “At
the time he reminded me of someone. I’ve seen Ben in
a couple of movies, and one of them was a costume
picture from the same era as The Virgin Vessel.”
“It’s a stretch.” Renie yawned. “Why would Ben
Carmody be hanging around outside Hillside Manor in
September?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Judith said, reverting
to her old habit of chewing on a fingernail.
“Why indeed?” Renie said as they heard the front
door open. “I doubt that Ben did any such thing.”
Judith didn’t respond, but went into the dining room
to see who had arrived. It was Vito and Winifred. He
seemed fresh and vigorous; she appeared weary and
anxious. Judith informed Vito that he’d be staying in
Room Three.
“Bruno’s room,” Vito said solemnly. “It’s an honor.”
“You may find Morris Mayne already there,” Judith
said. “Would you mind asking him to move to Room
Five with Chips?”
The attorney informed Judith that he’d gladly pass
on the request. “I appreciate getting the larger room,”
he said. “I have some work to do.”
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Winifred, however, wasn’t pleased to hear that she
would have to share her room with Ellie. “Why
couldn’t Ellie and Eugenia share Room Six?”
“Because,” Judith said, clearing her throat, “you and
Ellie are quite slim. Eugenia is not. Both your room
and Room Six, where Ellie’s been staying, have double beds.”
Flattery didn’t have any effect on Winifred, who remained glum but didn’t argue further. Maybe, Judith
thought, that was because Eugenia had admitted that
she and Winifred weren’t on good terms. Whatever the
reason, Winifred immediately went upstairs while Vito
peered into the darkened living room.
“What’s going on?” Seeing the movie on TV, he
didn’t wait for an answer. “Ah— The Virgin Vessel. The
role that made Ben famous. It was Chips’s first attempt
at directing. He was superb.” Without waiting for a response from Judith, Vito slipped gracefully into the living room just as a willowy blonde met her fate at the
hands of Mr. Ax.
Judith was still shuddering when she returned to the
kitchen. “Let’s go upstairs so we can talk privately,”
she said to Renie, who had fixed herself some cheese
and crackers. “I can still hear the screams from the
TV.”
“You want to watch the NBA’s preseason?” Renie
inquired, getting up from the table with her snacks.
“Not really,” Judith said. “We can go in Joe’s office.”