Beastly House

Chapter 12

 "What the devil!" Phalen exclaimed.

"This is much worse than anticipated," said Flix.

"I'll say. A double homicide!"

"How far along do you think she is, Doc?" Flix asked.

"I'd say about 16 weeks."

"So, now we have an added motive," Flix mused on the ride home.

"Poor girl. No family, and when she finds herself in a family way, who could she turn to?"

"Our own Dr. Quintland, perhaps," Flix answered.

"Perhaps, but I don't think so. More likely, she'd turn to a friend she works with every day. Someone she saw as a mother figure, perhaps."

"Or another girl her own age."

"Yes. Blast it, Cupid. I surely did not see this coming."

"Nor I. When we saw the body on the table, exposed and naked, I did not dream she was with child."

"No," Phalen said. "But it would be hard to tell, I mean with a big-boned girl like that. And if she'd been as sick as they say, she would have been underweight."

"Yes," Flix said. "She could hide her pregnancy for awhile, yet. But, inevitably?"

"I know. And the evidence we've collected so far points to poison. But to kill an unborn child."

"Men have killed for less," Flix said.

"So, they have."

"But why strangle her?" Flix said. "That's what I don't get. The evidence points to arsenic poisoning – horizontal lines on her fingernails, puffiness of the eyes, dusky patterns of discoloration on her skin. This whole case just doesn't make any sense."

They were silent for a few moments.

"You and I are both veterans," Flix said.

"Yes. The memories are atrocious. I rarely talk of my time in service."

"I know what you mean," Flix said, "I feel exactly the same way. But here's a thought, Phalen. As military men, we were trained to kill, were we not? What if, and please bear with me, I am only speculating, what if appetites were aroused during those unbearable days that must be fed during peace time?"

"I don't follow, Cupid."

"I am simply saying, what if an appetite for killing was turned on during the war, and now, during peace time, it has never been turned off?"

"An appetite turned on like a light switch? A hunger for murder?" Phalen mused. "Hell! I suppose it's quite possible and horrifying to contemplate, but, if that's the case, then why isn't the world littered with corpses during these few short years since the signing of the armistice?"

"I don't know," Flix said. "I may be totally wrong. I sincerely hope I am. But what if a monster is roaming about who likes to destroy human life because something inside him is broken? What if he can't help himself?"

"If you're right," Phalen said, "then monster is the right description for such an evil devil. But nobody in this high-priced hotel appears to be a raving, frothing-at-the-mouth lunatic."

"I know," said Flix. "The mansion houses hypochondriacs who wish to escape from the real world, from the reality of the chaotic storm called Life, over which there is very little control. Here, with the aid of beautiful surroundings, one can forget the dirt, the grime, and the unpleasantness that is on every hand."

Flix laughed softly.

"The estate is an escape," Flix said. "A place to hide. And I am as guilty as all the rest of the 'guests' here. My uncle's money has afforded me the opportunity to retire in style and to concentrate and focus my energies on finishing my book on the White-lined Sphinx. But, I find I cannot escape my memories. Not even in these most beautiful surroundings."