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Chapter 18

Pendergast opened the door of Glinn’s van and stepped out, the valise in one hand and the briefcase tucked under one arm. He placed the bags on the front seat of the truck and then returned to the van. As he was stowing the camping gear in the back of the van, Glinn spoke to him without turning around.

“There has been another small bit of information returned by the program.”

“Yes?”

“The killer is intent on keeping focus off the case. The program suggested he may try other diversionary tactics.”

“I see. I take it these tactics will be directed at the police.”

“It is highly likely.”

“Then I shall anticipate maintaining an investigation which is completely separate from local law enforcement.”

Glinn smiled thinly. “From you, Dr. Pendergast, I would have expected no less. I shall also expect a report from you as soon as you have met with Mathies and ‘settled in’.”

Pendergast nodded, slammed the door, and stepped away from the van. He watched as Glinn steered the van out of the lot and down the road back towards town. Pendergast climbed into the truck and removed the case file from the briefcase. He studied the file in silence. After almost an hour, he placed the file back in the case, started the truck, and drove off.

Thirty minutes later, Pendergast pulled into the lot in front of the Black Hollow General store. He stepped out of the truck and strode to the front door. The proprietor looked up as he entered, and Pendergast saw a look of relief cross the man’s face. The other occupant of the store was the same man that had been there on the previous visit. He appeared to be asleep in his chair by the stove.

“Ah, Mr...Pendergast. How was your stay?”

“Enlightening.”

“Oh. Did you see anything...interesting?”

“Yes. I believe I spied Glaucomys sabrinus fuscus. A rare occurrence, so I have been led to believe.”

Gus looked rather bewildered.

“I see. Uh, anything else?”

“I also encountered Falco peregrinus and Haliaeetus leucocephalus. Each a truly magnificent sight. ”

“Um, OK, whatever you say. You didn’t have any problems, did you?”

“No, the accommodations were more than adequate.”

“He wants to know if you met that nut Ravenwood,” called a gruff voice from the corner of the store.

Pendergast turned towards the man by stove.

“No, I did not. However, I did come to appreciate the solitude of the mountains, and I can completely understand his desire to live there, outside the hectic nature of the modern world.”

Hank raised an eyebrow and stared at Pendergast for a few moments. His expression seemed to say Yeah, that’s because you’re both nuts. Pendergast gazed back impassively. Finally, Hank dropped his eyes, shrugged, and went back to his nap. Pendergast turned back towards the counter.

“Speaking of Mr. Ravenwood, I would like to purchase one of his carvings if you still have some left.”

“Uh, sure, they’re down there. Plenty to choose from.” Gus pointed to the display shelf. Pendergast walked over to it and bent to examine the carvings. After a few minutes of deliberation, he selected one which depicted an eagle with wings spread in flight.

“Good choice. I always liked those eagle ones myself,” said Gus.

“Indeed.”

“Will there be anything else?”

Pendergast glanced at a stack of newspapers on the corner of the counter. As he read the headline, a thoughtful expression crossed his face. He picked up a paper from the top of the stack and laid it on the counter next to the carving. Gus glanced at the headline.

“Oh, that. Isn’t that terrible? I can’t believe how people so corrupt could keep getting elected. I’m glad we don’t have people like that running this place.”

“I’m quite sure the officials of Black Hollow are pinnacles of integrity, as well as the citizens at large. Thank you for your hospitality. I’ll be sure to recommend your establishment to any friends who may be passing through.” Pendergast paid the bill, gathered up the paper and the carving, and walked out of the store. Gus was quite relieved to see him go.

Pendergast sat in his truck for a few minutes, reading the paper he had just bought. The front page article detailed all of the less-than-legal workings of the local government of Pine Mountain, West Virginia. The story claimed that the source of the information had been an “anonymous package of documents” which contained proof of the nefarious dealings. The list of infractions was impressive: racketeering, drug dealing, real estate fraud, even murder was attributed to Darrow and his associates. Statements of denial from several co-conspirators were included in the article, as well as indignant attacks by other local officials. After reading the whole piece, Pendergast was sure of one thing: the emergence of this information was definitely a diversionary tactic. He also suspected that this would not be the only one. After re-reading the article, Pendergast folded the paper, started the truck and headed for Winstead.

After almost an hour of driving, Pendergast turned the truck down a rather rough country road. The road was dotted with potholes, and he was able to avoid most of them, but he managed to hit one particularly nasty spot and the truck was badly jolted. He heard a loud thump from the bed of the truck and immediately pulled to the side of the road. He cut the engine and listened. Finally, he exited the truck, walked around to the back, and opened the door of the cap. He stared at the contents for a few moments and then smiled thinly at the strange sight that met his eyes.



Bonnie Mathies slowly opened her eyes and peered into the semi-darkness. The pain at the back of her head was excruciating, and she closed her eyes again while taking slow, deep breaths to stem her nausea. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes again and as they adjusted to the low light, she was able to take stock of her surroundings. The cold, slightly damp floor where she lay was hard packed earth, and the closest visible wall appeared to be made from rough cut stones. She tried to rise to a sitting position and was alarmed to discover that her wrists had been shackled behind her. She tried to roll forward but was brought up short by a sharp tug at her wrists and ankles. After some maneuvering, she was able to rise a little, resting on one hip and elbow with her arms and legs folded uncomfortably behind. She looked across the small room and spotted a set of stairs. Seated on the steps was a figure holding a lantern. The lantern was mostly hooded, and the figure’s face was cloaked in shadows. Suddenly the memory of the morning’s events came flooding back, and Bonnie choked back a sob. Why is this happening to me? she thought, panic rising.

“Hello, my dear Bonnie. Did you enjoy your nap?”

Bonnie gasped. The voice was not the one she expected to hear.

“Who are you?”

“You don’t remember me? I’m hurt, Bonnie, truly I am.”

“You’re not—”

“Oh, but I am. Things are not always as they seem.” The figure rose from the steps, walked over to Bonnie and knelt down in front of her, just out of reach. Bonnie stared at her captor and then gasped when she finally recognized the face staring complacently back at her from the darkness.

“You! What in the hell are you doing here? Is this some sort of sick joke?”

“It’s no joke, dear Bonnie.”

Bonnie fought to keep the fear out of her voice.

“Why are you doing this to me? I’ve never done anything to you! I haven’t even seen you in...Christ, almost 12 years. Why, after all this time?”

“Well, you know what they say about revenge. But it’s not revenge I want, Bonnie, and it’s not anything you have done. Nothing specific, at least. It is what you represent.”

“What I represent?”

“A distraction.”

“A distraction?!? What the hell are you talking about?”

“A distraction for your dear father. I suspect he might be getting too close to cracking a very important case. He needs something to keep him occupied so I can finish what I started.”

“What you started...?” With growing horror, Bonnie realized to what her captor was referring.

“The Zoller murders? You killed them?” Dear God, thought Bonnie, this is insane.

“Yes.”

“But why?”

“That, my dear Bonnie, was revenge.”

“I...I don’t understand—”

“No, you wouldn’t. But no matter, I know why I did it, and why I must finish what I started. However, you father and his deputy sheriff are endangering my plan, making connections I don’t want them to make. I need to draw their focus away from the case so I have given them something else to worry about: your mysterious disappearance, to be precise.”

“Your plan? You’re going to kill more people? The Zollers were just the beginning?” Bonnie couldn’t control her voice any longer. She had never been so frightened in her life.

“Yes and no. I’m going to kill more people, but the Zollers were not ‘just the beginning’. I started this a long time ago.”

Bonnie drew a long shuddering breath. The matter-of-fact one of her captor’s voice was chilling. She asked the question she had been dreading to ask since she had awoken.

“You’re going to kill me too, aren’t you?”

Her captor gave a short harsh laugh. “My dear Bonnie, don’t you remember some of our old conversations? There are things worse than death. We used to speculate on them at length. The story of this place gives a prime example of such a fate.”

“What do you mean?” Suddenly, Bonnie could no longer support herself. She collapsed back to the floor and lay there gazing up at the smiling face of her captor.

“You’re a teacher, so I’m sure you’ll appreciate a history lesson. This property was once a stop on the Underground Railroad. The original owner was a staunch abolitionist, and he was glad to help those who wanted to escape to the north. This place was perfect for that purpose: isolated, off the beaten track, yet close to a major crossing point. He hid them in this root cellar, provided them with food, clothing, and shelter from the authorities. He helped perhaps 100 of them across the Ohio River and gave them help finding the next stop. His eldest son, however, did not have such an altruistic nature. He was less interested in helping the slaves to freedom and much more interested in the rewards for their capture. As long as his father was alive, however, he had to go along with the practice of helping those in need. Finally, 5 years after he had helped the first slave to safety, the father passed away. The son pretended to continue to offer the place as a safe haven, but instead when he brought the slaves down here, he had them chained to the wall, just as you are now. Because his mother and wife were still supporters of the Railroad, he hid his activities from them. He would bring the slave hunters here in the dead of night to collect the slaves and to receive his rewards. This went on for several years, but one night, as he was coming down to check on his prisoners, one of the stairs near the top gave way and he fell to his death. His wife and mother had just left to visit a relative for two weeks, and when they returned, they found his body, as well as the bodies of three slaves he had chained to the walls. The family was horrified, and in order to cover their shame, they buried the bodies of the slaves in the floor of this cellar and had it sealed over. Afterwards, people reported strange noises and lights around the place at night. The family couldn’t keep hired help, and friends and relatives stopped coming to visit. Eventually they could no longer stand it and moved to a new home some distance away. Eventually the place was forgotten by everyone except the wife, who recorded the events in her journal. I uncovered that manuscript during a search of the historical society’s archives, and I removed it. After reading the journal, I was able to find this place fairly easily. No other living person knows of its’ existence.” Her captor rose, walked to the staircase, and turned back towards Bonnie.

“So you see, my dear Bonnie, I won’t really have to kill you, will I? No one will ever find you here. You’ll be just another mystery, and you father will never know what really happened to you. That, as you once said, really would be a fate worse than death.” Her captor turned and started up the steps, carrying the lantern. As the light started to fade, Bonnie cried out in a quavering voice.

“Please...don’t leave me here alone.”

“Oh, don’t worry Bonnie, I’m sure you won’t really be alone.” Bonnie heard the door at the top of the steps open and then slam shut. The darkness in the cellar was absolute, and with the darkness came a mindless blinding panic.

The killer stood outside of the door listening to Bonnie’s anguished screams. Ah, dear Bonnie. You always were a sucker for a good ghost story. Such an educated mind, and yet so gullible. The killer gave a low dry chuckle. Once again, you gave me something to use against you. What fun...

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