if a person was very angry, or agitated, they left a trembling in the air that could persist for hours.
But Red Mask had vanished without a trace, as if he had stepped out of the world altogether and closed the door behind him. No emotion, no afterimage, no distortion in the daylight. Not even the faintest of distant echoes.
CHAPTER 14 - The Voice of
Unreason
Sissy and Molly were about to push their way through the revolving door when three paramedics came bustling through, so they had to step back. As they did so, Detective Kunzel's cell phone played "Hang On Sloopy."
Detective Kunzel said "Kunzel." Then, "Who?" Then, "Who is this?" Then he lifted his hand and called out, "Molly! Mrs. Sawyer! Hold up a moment!"
Reluctantly, they returned. The paramedics were already kneeling by the bodies in the elevator, double-checking that none of the three victims showed any signs of life. Sissy looked away, but not before she noticed Mary's upswept eyeglasses, with congealing blood on the lenses, lying on the floor.
Detective Kunzel had switched his phone to speaker. A grating voice was saying, "-too late now for one and all-"
"It's him," mouthed Detective Kunzel.
Sissy said nothing, but stood closer so that she could hear the voice more clearly.
"What's done is done, and it can't be undone, no matter what. And it has to be done again, and again, until amends are made, and dues are paid, and justice is satisfied. No rest for the wicked, Detective. No rest for the guilty, neither."
"What do you want?" asked Detective Kunzel. "If we knew what you wanted, maybe we could come to some kind of compromise."
"You can't compromise when it comes to justice. You can only take what's due to you until justice has been satisfied."
"So what do you believe is due to you? I'm pretty sure that we could work something out, if only I knew what it was."
"Do you know what I lost, Detective? I lost my happiness. I lost everything that made me what I was. My self-confidence, my very identity. I lost me."
"So what are you trying to tell me? That you've taken the lives of five innocent people, just because your ego took a bruising? That doesn't sound like checks and balances to me."
"You don't think so? You wait. Tomorrow, even more innocents are going to meet their maker. And the day after that, even more again. It's going to be a massacre, Detective, and the people of this city should be warned about it. You need to tell them that Red Mask is hell-bent on justice, and that none of them is safe."
"Red Mask? That's the name that we thought up for you. How about telling me your real name?"
"Red Mask will do fine. Red Mask is what you decided to call me. Red Mask is what I am."
"How about a first name? I can't call you Red Mask all the time, can I?"
"You can call me anything you like. I'm not choosy. You can call me the Elevator Murderer or the Butcher-Knife Maniac or the Scarlet-Faced Slasher. You can call me Sudden Death on Legs, if you want to. All's I'm saying is, the people of Cincinnati should be warned what I intend to do to them."
"Listen to me-" Detective Kunzel began, but then they heard a sharp click, followed by a buzzing noise.
"Hey-are you still there?" Detective Kunzel demanded. "Red Mask? Are you still there?"
"I think he's said all he needs to say to us," Sissy put in. "For the time being, anyhow."
Detective Kunzel said, "You guessed that he was going to call me, didn't you?"
"I didn't guess, Mike. I knew. It was forecast by the cards, very specifically."
"I don't suppose the cards told you his home address? Hey-sorry. I didn't mean to be sarcastic."
"Actually, no, you don't have to apologize. The cards often give me a strong sense of where people live. Which neighborhood, anyhow-which general locality-even if they don't actually give me a street number. But for Red Mask they've given me nothing. Not even which side of the river he comes from. And they haven't explained his motive. They've told me what he's going to do,
But Red Mask had vanished without a trace, as if he had stepped out of the world altogether and closed the door behind him. No emotion, no afterimage, no distortion in the daylight. Not even the faintest of distant echoes.
CHAPTER 14 - The Voice of
Unreason
Sissy and Molly were about to push their way through the revolving door when three paramedics came bustling through, so they had to step back. As they did so, Detective Kunzel's cell phone played "Hang On Sloopy."
Detective Kunzel said "Kunzel." Then, "Who?" Then, "Who is this?" Then he lifted his hand and called out, "Molly! Mrs. Sawyer! Hold up a moment!"
Reluctantly, they returned. The paramedics were already kneeling by the bodies in the elevator, double-checking that none of the three victims showed any signs of life. Sissy looked away, but not before she noticed Mary's upswept eyeglasses, with congealing blood on the lenses, lying on the floor.
Detective Kunzel had switched his phone to speaker. A grating voice was saying, "-too late now for one and all-"
"It's him," mouthed Detective Kunzel.
Sissy said nothing, but stood closer so that she could hear the voice more clearly.
"What's done is done, and it can't be undone, no matter what. And it has to be done again, and again, until amends are made, and dues are paid, and justice is satisfied. No rest for the wicked, Detective. No rest for the guilty, neither."
"What do you want?" asked Detective Kunzel. "If we knew what you wanted, maybe we could come to some kind of compromise."
"You can't compromise when it comes to justice. You can only take what's due to you until justice has been satisfied."
"So what do you believe is due to you? I'm pretty sure that we could work something out, if only I knew what it was."
"Do you know what I lost, Detective? I lost my happiness. I lost everything that made me what I was. My self-confidence, my very identity. I lost me."
"So what are you trying to tell me? That you've taken the lives of five innocent people, just because your ego took a bruising? That doesn't sound like checks and balances to me."
"You don't think so? You wait. Tomorrow, even more innocents are going to meet their maker. And the day after that, even more again. It's going to be a massacre, Detective, and the people of this city should be warned about it. You need to tell them that Red Mask is hell-bent on justice, and that none of them is safe."
"Red Mask? That's the name that we thought up for you. How about telling me your real name?"
"Red Mask will do fine. Red Mask is what you decided to call me. Red Mask is what I am."
"How about a first name? I can't call you Red Mask all the time, can I?"
"You can call me anything you like. I'm not choosy. You can call me the Elevator Murderer or the Butcher-Knife Maniac or the Scarlet-Faced Slasher. You can call me Sudden Death on Legs, if you want to. All's I'm saying is, the people of Cincinnati should be warned what I intend to do to them."
"Listen to me-" Detective Kunzel began, but then they heard a sharp click, followed by a buzzing noise.
"Hey-are you still there?" Detective Kunzel demanded. "Red Mask? Are you still there?"
"I think he's said all he needs to say to us," Sissy put in. "For the time being, anyhow."
Detective Kunzel said, "You guessed that he was going to call me, didn't you?"
"I didn't guess, Mike. I knew. It was forecast by the cards, very specifically."
"I don't suppose the cards told you his home address? Hey-sorry. I didn't mean to be sarcastic."
"Actually, no, you don't have to apologize. The cards often give me a strong sense of where people live. Which neighborhood, anyhow-which general locality-even if they don't actually give me a street number. But for Red Mask they've given me nothing. Not even which side of the river he comes from. And they haven't explained his motive. They've told me what he's going to do,
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