Chapter Eighty-Eight
Eighty-Eight
Mary’s voice was still unsteady when she left Denise a new message.
‘Denise,’ she said, after using the correct opening code word. ‘ZigDust, ZigDust, ZigDust.’
‘ZigDust’ was their abort code word. It was the name of the traveling funfair where they had met Dylan, all those years ago, back in Liverpool. Only Mary and Denise would know what it meant.
‘Abort, Denise. Please abort. Just pack your bags and get the fuck out of LA. Do it now. Do not… I repeat – do not get in touch with Quaddra again. I’ll explain later, but he is not who you think he is.
He’s not who I thought he was. Your life could be in serious danger.
Please just get out of there, OK? Abort.
ZigDust. Please call me when you’re safe.
Get out of LA first then call me. OK? I love you. ’
Mary finished the call by giving Denise her new burner number before finalizing it with the closing code word.
The next call that Mary placed wasn’t to the police. She called her therapist, Dr. Lillian Fox, asking for an emergency appointment. And that was why that morning, at exactly 11:00 a.m., Mary was being ushered into Dr. Fox’s office.
Mary took a seat at the usual couch, but she didn’t sit back, like she usually did. This time, she sat right at the edge of the seat… only the tips of her shoes touching the floor… her hands clasped together and stuck between her thighs – textbook defensive posture.
In over two years of therapy, Dr. Fox had never seen that look on Mary’s face – an unsettling mixture of doubt and pure fear that was truly worrying.
‘Would you like a glass of water?’ Dr. Fox asked, already pouring Mary a glass from the jug on her desk.
Mary’s jittery eyes met the doctor’s. ‘Thank you,’ she took the glass, but didn’t sip the water. She simply held it with both hands, resting it on her lap.
‘Mary, what’s going on?’ Dr. Fox asked, taking a seat in her usual wingback Chesterfield armchair, but this time she did not have her notepad with her, and she did not activate the recording device either, which indicated that she wasn’t treating this as a regular session.
‘Does this have anything to do with the bruises?’ Her tone was concerned, but not rushed.
‘You mean the ones on me?’ Mary asked.
‘Yes,’ Dr. Fox replied. ‘The ones on your body, Mary. The ones that have nothing to do with you being clumsy.’
Mary used her thumb and forefinger to rub her eyes, as if she was fighting back tears.
‘No,’ Mary finally replied, with a nervous shake of the head.
‘This has got nothing to do with that, but I’d like to give you this.
’ She reached for the package that she had brought with her and handed it to Dr. Fox. ‘If you could please keep it for me.’
‘What is this?’ Dr. Fox asked, accepting the package.
Under normal circumstances… if everything had gone to plan, the ‘evidence package’ was only posted to the therapist during the opening week of the trial, but these were far from normal circumstances, and Mary had learned a long time ago that it truly was much better to be safe than sorry.
‘Just… photographs and tapes documenting everything.’
Dr. Fox tried to read Mary’s eyes. ‘Everything as in… what?’
Mary didn’t reply.
‘Mary, if you’re in danger, you have to let me know. I promise I’ll do everything I can to help.’
‘I don’t know if I am yet,’ Mary finally replied. ‘But let’s call that insurance.’ She nodded at the package. ‘You can look at the photos and listen to the tapes later, but I didn’t ask for an emergency appointment to discuss what’s in there.’
‘OK.’ The doctor’s analyzing gaze stayed on Mary. ‘So please tell me the reason for the emergency appointment.’ She sat back down on her chair. ‘Because from where I’m sitting, Mary, you look like you’re one step away from a meltdown.’
Mary finally had a sip of her water.
‘OK,’ she began, with a deep breath. ‘I’m not even going to waste your time or insult your intelligence by trying to convince you of a hypothetical situation, with “let’s suppose”, or defer the scenario to someone else with “asking for a friend” – kind of bullshit.
If I did that, you’d know that I was talking about myself, anyway, and that the situation wasn’t hypothetical at all, wouldn’t you? ’
Dr. Fox nodded. ‘By creating a hypothetical situation, or deferring the scenario to someone else, the person believes that—’
‘I really don’t need an explanation, Doc,’ Mary cut her short. ‘What I need is some advice. And you’re the best person for that right now.’
‘OK.’ Dr. Fox didn’t seem offended by the interruption. ‘So how can I help?’
‘I need advice about… going to the police,’ Mary said, her gaze moving down to the glass of water on her lap.
‘And what do you think that you should contact the police about?’
‘I, by chance, discovered something about a friend,’ Mary lied. ‘Something criminal.’
Mary knew that if she tried to hit Dr. Fox with ‘my friend found out that her husband has a secret room in their house’, the doctor would immediately know that she was talking about her own husband, not a friend’s.
But she didn’t want Dr. Fox to know that the person at the center of what she was just about to reveal was Quaddra. At least not yet.
‘OK. How criminal are we talking about here?’
‘The worst kind. The kind that can land the person on death row.’
‘Murder.’ Dr. Fox didn’t phrase it as a question.
‘That’s the one,’ Mary confirmed.
Dr. Fox took a moment. ‘Was it self-defense?’
‘No. Not even close. We’re talking a heinous case of violence here.’
Dr. Fox’s eyes widened at Mary. ‘Well, in that case, then you should absolutely go to the police. Is there proof?’
‘There is,’ Mary replied. ‘But I can’t get to it at the moment.’
Dr. Fox lifted a hand to Mary. ‘Mary, if you really want my advice, then please stop tiptoeing around the subject. You asked for this meeting, so tell me what happened… what did you discover… and what were the circumstances in which you discovered it. Any advice is only as good as the information that the person giving the advice has received. I can’t form an opinion, or offer you any useful advice if I don’t know all the facts. ’
Mary had another sip of her water. She had already thought of a whole new story to feed Dr. Fox. It was simple, believable and to the point.
‘While at a friend’s house,’ she began again. ‘I, by chance, stumbled upon a secret door. I should’ve left it alone. It wasn’t my house, but curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to snoop around.’
‘Alright.’ The expression on Dr. Fox’s face was curious. ‘And what did you find?’
‘A chamber of horrors,’ Mary replied, looking away from the doctor.
‘Could you maybe be a little more specific?’
Mary drew in another deep breath. ‘I walked into a room where the walls were plastered with photographs… Polaroid photographs.’ From there, Mary went on to explain what she had actually found in the basement under Quaddra’s office, including the video footage.
Dr. Fox listened to Mary’s accounts in complete silence, until she was done.
‘Are you sure about that?’ Dr. Fox asked, her mouth semi-opened, her gaze distraught. ‘Because if you are, Mary, then we’re possibly talking about a serial killer here.’
‘I am sure. Yes.’
Dr. Fox finally understood why Mary was so unraveled. ‘Did you manage to snap a photo of those walls, or of the video you saw?’
‘No.’ Mary shook her head. ‘I didn’t have my phone with me at the time.
But you can check it for yourself. Kelly Holder and Aileen Thompson.
Those are the only two names I remember from that wall.
Kelly Holder was from LA and Aileen Thompson from Chicago.
I’ve already checked the Internet for information.
They both went missing – Kelly Holder last year and Aileen Thompson in 2022.
And I know for a fact that this friend of mine was traveling to those exact cities when both of those women went missing. ’
Dr. Fox reached for the notepad on her desk and wrote both names down. ‘Did you tell your husband about this? What did he say you should do?’
Mary did her best to control her facial expression. She didn’t want to give anything away. ‘No, not yet. He’s away on business. But he’s the type who will totally freak out and go straight to the cops. He’s an “act first, think later” – kind of person. Not exactly helpful in these situations.’
Dr. Fox took a moment, tapping her pen against her notepad, trying to organize her thoughts.
‘I’m not a lawyer, or a police officer, Mary, but as far as I’m aware, if you don’t have a photo of the walls in this secret room you’ve found…
a photo of these Polaroid pictures, or of the video images you saw on that computer, then you’ll have a problem if you go to the police. ’
Mary nodded. ‘I’ve got no proof.’
‘Exactly,’ Dr. Fox agreed. ‘Since this secret room is located inside a private property, the police would need a warrant to be able to enter the premises and check the room for themselves, and they won’t be able to get one without evidence. In their view, all you have at the moment is hearsay.’
‘I know.’ Mary had spent the whole morning, from the time that she’d disconnected from her call to Dr. Fox, until her emergency appointment, surfing the Internet with those exact same questions.
‘Do you think you can get back into your friend’s house and obtain proof?’ the doctor asked. ‘Use your phone and snap a few pictures of these walls?’
Mary looked back at her as if Dr. Fox had gone mad. ‘Are you kidding? I’ve seen this film before, Doc. The stupid woman who goes snooping around when she knows she shouldn’t dies next. No thank you.’
Dr. Fox could easily understand Mary’s concern. ‘OK, let me ask you this – how close would you say you are to this friend of yours?’
‘Pretty close – best friend kind of deal.’
‘And does your friend have any indication that you’ve discovered this secret room?’
‘No. None.’
‘And you said that from what you’ve gathered, your friend has been doing this for quite some time.’