Hell House
Chapter 6
The man withdrew a ring of keys from his overcoat pocket and disconnected one of them, handing it to Barrett. "Anything else?"
"We'll phone if there is."
The man smiled briefly. "Good-bye, then," he said. He turned away.
"I trust he meant au revoir," said Edith.
Barrett smiled as he raised the window.
"I'll drive," Fischer said. He clambered over the seat and got in front. Starting the motor, he turned left onto the rutted blacktop road.
Edith drew in sudden breath. "I wish I knew what to expect."
Fischer answered without looking back. "Expect anything," he said.
11:47 A.M.
For the past five minutes Fischer had been inching the Cadillac along the narrow, fog-bound road. Now he braked and stopped the engine. "We're here." he said. He wrenched up the door handle and ducked outside, buttoning his Navy pea coat.
Edith turned as Lionel opened the door beside him. She waited as he struggled out, then edged across the seat after him. She shivered as she got out. "Cold," she said, "and that smell."
"Probably a swamp around here somewhere."
Florence joined them, and the four stood silent for a few moments, looking around.
"That way," Fischer said then. He was gazing across the hood of the car.
"Let's take a look," said Barrett. "We can get our luggage afterward." He turned to Fischer. "Would you lead?"
Fischer moved off.
They had gone only a few yards when they reached a narrow concrete bridge. As they walked across it, Edith looked over the edge. If there was water below, the mist obscured it from sight. She glanced back. Already the limousine was swallowed by fog.
"Don't fall in the tarn." Fischer's voice drifted back. Edith turned and saw a body of water ahead, a gravel path curving to its left. The surface of the water looked like clouded gelatin sprinkled with a thin debris of leaves and grass. A miasma of decay hovered above it, and the stones which lined its shore were green with slime.
"Now we know where the odor comes from," Barrett said. He shook his head. "Belasco would have a tarn."
"Bastard Bog," said Fischer.
"Why do you call it that?"
Fischer didn't answer. Finally he said, "I'll tell you later."
They walked in silence now, the only sound the crunching of gravel underneath their shoes. The cold was numbing, a clammy chill that seemed to dew itself around their bones. Edith drew up the collar of her coat and stayed close to Lionel, holding on to his arm and looking at the ground. Just behind them walked Florence Tanner.
When Lionel stopped at last, Edith looked up quickly.
It stood before them in the fog, a massive, looming specter of a house.
" Hideous," said Florence, sounding almost angry. Edith looked at her. "We haven't even gone inside, Miss Tanner," Barrett said.
"I don't have to go inside." Florence turned to Fischer, who was staring at the house. As she looked at him, he shuddered.
Reaching out, she put her hand in his. He gripped it so hard it made her wince.
Barrett and Edith gazed up at the shrouded edifice. In the mist, it resembled some ghostly escarpment blocking their path.
Edith leaned forward suddenly. " It has no windows," she said.
"He had them bricked up," Barrett said.
"Why?"
"I don't know. Perhaps - "
"We're wasting time," Fischer cut him off. He let go of Florence's hand and lurched forward.
They walked the final yards along the gravel path, then started up the wide porch steps. Edith saw that all the steps were cracked, fungus and frosted yellow grass sprouting from the fissures.
They stopped before the massive double doors.
"If they open by themselves, I'm going home," Edith said, trying to sound amused. Barrett gripped the handle on the door and depressed its thumb plate. The door held fast. He glanced at Fischer. "This happen to you?"
"More than once."
"Good we have the key, then." Barrett removed it from his overcoat pocket and slid it into the lock. It wouldn't turn. He wiggled the key back and forth, attempting to loosen the bolt.
Abruptly the key turned over, and the heavy door began to swing in. Edith twitched as Florence caught her breath. "What is it?" she asked. Florence shook her head. "No cause for alarm," Barrett said. Edith glanced at him in surprise.
"It's just reaction, Mrs. Barrett," Florence explained. "Your husband is quite right. It's nothing to be alarmed about."
Fischer had been reaching in to locate the light switch. Now he found it, and they heard him flick it up and down without result. "So much for restored electrical service," he said.
"Obviously the generator is too old," Barrett said.
"Generator?" Edith looked surprised again. "There's no electrical service here?"
"There aren't enough houses in the valley to make it worth the effort," Barrett answered.
"How could they put in a telephone, then?"
"It's a field telephone," Barrett said. He looked into the house. "Well, Mr. Deutsch will have to provide us with a new 6 generator, that's all."
"We'll phone if there is."
The man smiled briefly. "Good-bye, then," he said. He turned away.
"I trust he meant au revoir," said Edith.
Barrett smiled as he raised the window.
"I'll drive," Fischer said. He clambered over the seat and got in front. Starting the motor, he turned left onto the rutted blacktop road.
Edith drew in sudden breath. "I wish I knew what to expect."
Fischer answered without looking back. "Expect anything," he said.
11:47 A.M.
For the past five minutes Fischer had been inching the Cadillac along the narrow, fog-bound road. Now he braked and stopped the engine. "We're here." he said. He wrenched up the door handle and ducked outside, buttoning his Navy pea coat.
Edith turned as Lionel opened the door beside him. She waited as he struggled out, then edged across the seat after him. She shivered as she got out. "Cold," she said, "and that smell."
"Probably a swamp around here somewhere."
Florence joined them, and the four stood silent for a few moments, looking around.
"That way," Fischer said then. He was gazing across the hood of the car.
"Let's take a look," said Barrett. "We can get our luggage afterward." He turned to Fischer. "Would you lead?"
Fischer moved off.
They had gone only a few yards when they reached a narrow concrete bridge. As they walked across it, Edith looked over the edge. If there was water below, the mist obscured it from sight. She glanced back. Already the limousine was swallowed by fog.
"Don't fall in the tarn." Fischer's voice drifted back. Edith turned and saw a body of water ahead, a gravel path curving to its left. The surface of the water looked like clouded gelatin sprinkled with a thin debris of leaves and grass. A miasma of decay hovered above it, and the stones which lined its shore were green with slime.
"Now we know where the odor comes from," Barrett said. He shook his head. "Belasco would have a tarn."
"Bastard Bog," said Fischer.
"Why do you call it that?"
Fischer didn't answer. Finally he said, "I'll tell you later."
They walked in silence now, the only sound the crunching of gravel underneath their shoes. The cold was numbing, a clammy chill that seemed to dew itself around their bones. Edith drew up the collar of her coat and stayed close to Lionel, holding on to his arm and looking at the ground. Just behind them walked Florence Tanner.
When Lionel stopped at last, Edith looked up quickly.
It stood before them in the fog, a massive, looming specter of a house.
" Hideous," said Florence, sounding almost angry. Edith looked at her. "We haven't even gone inside, Miss Tanner," Barrett said.
"I don't have to go inside." Florence turned to Fischer, who was staring at the house. As she looked at him, he shuddered.
Reaching out, she put her hand in his. He gripped it so hard it made her wince.
Barrett and Edith gazed up at the shrouded edifice. In the mist, it resembled some ghostly escarpment blocking their path.
Edith leaned forward suddenly. " It has no windows," she said.
"He had them bricked up," Barrett said.
"Why?"
"I don't know. Perhaps - "
"We're wasting time," Fischer cut him off. He let go of Florence's hand and lurched forward.
They walked the final yards along the gravel path, then started up the wide porch steps. Edith saw that all the steps were cracked, fungus and frosted yellow grass sprouting from the fissures.
They stopped before the massive double doors.
"If they open by themselves, I'm going home," Edith said, trying to sound amused. Barrett gripped the handle on the door and depressed its thumb plate. The door held fast. He glanced at Fischer. "This happen to you?"
"More than once."
"Good we have the key, then." Barrett removed it from his overcoat pocket and slid it into the lock. It wouldn't turn. He wiggled the key back and forth, attempting to loosen the bolt.
Abruptly the key turned over, and the heavy door began to swing in. Edith twitched as Florence caught her breath. "What is it?" she asked. Florence shook her head. "No cause for alarm," Barrett said. Edith glanced at him in surprise.
"It's just reaction, Mrs. Barrett," Florence explained. "Your husband is quite right. It's nothing to be alarmed about."
Fischer had been reaching in to locate the light switch. Now he found it, and they heard him flick it up and down without result. "So much for restored electrical service," he said.
"Obviously the generator is too old," Barrett said.
"Generator?" Edith looked surprised again. "There's no electrical service here?"
"There aren't enough houses in the valley to make it worth the effort," Barrett answered.
"How could they put in a telephone, then?"
"It's a field telephone," Barrett said. He looked into the house. "Well, Mr. Deutsch will have to provide us with a new 6 generator, that's all."
