The Girl in the Glass

SHARDS OF EVIL

Upon arriving home, I went immediately to the couch in the living room and curled up in the corner, my head on a pillow and my knees pulled nearly to my chest. Only then did I realize I was trembling. I still felt faintly nauseated, and every time I'd focus on that indelible image of Charlotte Barnes in death, the sensation would intensify. Even though my eyes were closed, I could feel Schell's presence enter the room. Then I heard Antony address him.

"Boss, we found the Barnes kid," the big man said in a voice so weary it came out a whisper.

"Bad?" asked Schell, and I could hear him sitting down in the chair next to the couch.

"Real bad," said Antony. "She's dead."

Schell made no reply. I heard Antony slump into the chair directly across the coffee table from where I lay.

"Lydia Hush?" Schell finally asked.

"Sort of," said Antony.

"Tell me everything," said Schell, and Antony did, beginning with when we pulled over next to the woods late in the afternoon. I listened, reliving the entire scenario, and as I drew closer to the shack in the retelling, I began to sweat. When it was over, I breathed deeply and opened my eyes.

"She led you to the body," said Schell.

"Yeah, and then vanished," said Antony. "Once Diego found the girl, I thought it was best to run. I was afraid it might be a setup-the cops are tipped off and just happen to show when the two of us are standing over the body."

"It was good thinking," said Schell.

"One thing," I said. "Antony said the girl was naked. She was, mostly, but there was some kind of cloth draped over her lap."

"That's right," said Antony. "The kid's right."

"There was a design on it too."

"Of?" asked Schell.

"I didn't catch it," said Antony.

"A symbol," I said. "I've never seen it before and can't quite remember it. A circle was part of it and there were other things involved, but…"

"Well, not right now," said Schell. "But later on, try to remember the image."

I nodded.

"What kind of shape was the body in?" asked Schell.

"I don't know, Boss," said Antony. "The poor kid was dead. I didn't look that closely. All I can tell you is the place stunk of death, and my guess was that she'd been there for a couple of days."

"Any marks? Wounds? Bruises?" asked Schell.

"Nothing," I said. "Just white, and her eyes, flies and moths, maggots…" I gagged, unable to finish.

Schell reached across the arm of the couch and put his hand on the top of my head. "Okay," he said.

"I guess we just call the cops and let them take it from here, right?" said Antony.

Schell lifted his hand off me and leaned back. "Wrong," he said.

"Tommy, forget it. It was a mistake to get hooked up in this to start with," said Antony.

"There was a point at which I could have backed out but not now. That little girl's come to life in my mind. Something stinks about the entire mess."

"Yeah, something stinks," said Antony. "A kid's been murdered, probably by some lunatic. Let the cops find him."

"What about Lydia Hush?" said Schell.

"What about her?" asked Antony.

"She obviously knew where the body was. What else do you think she knows?" asked Schell.

"Maybe she's really got the gift," said Antony.

"Bullshit," said Schell. "If you feel that way, then why did you suspect a setup?"

"Kid?" said Antony.

"I don't know," I said. "Her method of finding the girl seemed pretty suspicious. But she did lead us to Charlotte. There was something about her…"

"You two are wifty. I'm going to find her, then I'm going to find out what happened."

"All right," said Antony, "Whatever you say, Boss."

Schell looked over at me. I nodded. "I have to know," I said.

"Our first order of business is for me to anonymously tip off the police to where the body is. Then I'll call Barnes and tell him we found her. I'm going to beg him not to tell the cops that we were involved. That way we can hopefully avoid trouble and stay in his confidence. We're going to need to talk to him again, I'm sure." Schell stood up and took a deep breath. "This'll be rough," he said.

"Don't forget, you've only got a couple minutes before they can trace the call," said Antony.

"Yeah, I know," said Schell. "Come with me. I need you to give me the directions to the body."

Antony stood and headed out of the room. He stopped midway to the hall entrance, turned, and said, "Sorry you had to find her, kid."

"I'm better," I said.

After they left, I didn't want to be alone and thought of following, but a great weariness came over me. I thought, I'll just rest my eyes for a second and then go listen in. I woke hours later, surprised in a dream by the appearance of Charlotte Barnes. The room was dark. I heard a voice.

"Are you okay?" asked Schell.

"Just had a dream," I said.

My eyes adjusted, and I saw him sitting by my feet at the end of the couch. I wondered how long he'd been there.

"Did you talk to Barnes?" I asked.

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"He wept," said Schell and patted my shin. "Go back to sleep. It's late. Everything's fine."

The next morning I woke to find the nausea gone, replaced by a subtle sense of dread. I took a bath and changed my clothes, and got ready to lie low. That was the directive from Schell. We had to wait a few days for the furor to die down before we could dive back into the investigation. Antony had gone out early and picked up the newspaper. Pictures of the shack and partial shots of the body were all over the front page. "Barnes Girl Found Dead" was the headline. I passed on reading it, wanting to keep my breakfast down. It wasn't that the newspaper photos were so explicit, but I was afraid they'd awaken the image of her that, for the time being, slept in my memory.

I returned to my studies. Mrs. Hendrickson would be arriving in two days to discuss Chaucer's Parliament of Fowls, and it would get pretty unpleasant if I didn't know what I was talking about. Since we'd begun looking for Charlotte Barnes, I'd done no book work. I went to my room to get my notes and the huge copy of Chaucer. In the bookcase I saw another book I hadn't opened in years. I took it, instead, off the shelf and opened it. Very old and somewhat tattered, it was one of the first books that Schell had read to me from-Fabulous Tales from Around the World. On the title page, a previous owner, one Luciere Londell, had inscribed her name. I paged through until I found the illustration for "The Snow Queen," a woman who, in her paleness, could have passed for Miss Hush.

I turned back to the beginning of the tale and read the first few paragraphs. It had been many years since I'd read about the demon who had created a mirror, the special nature of which reflected all of the true and good things in the world so that they seemed distorted, absurd, frightening. When the demon tried to take his mirror to heaven to show the angels their warped reflections, he dropped it and it fell back to earth, shattering into a million tiny particles. The wind blew these infinitesimal shards of evil into the eyes of two children who loved each other, and their views of the world and each other turned dark and disturbing. The image in my mind's eye of Charlotte's corpse was a shard from that demonic mirror.