Death Mask (3 page)

No sooner had she removed the glass than she heard the mask’s familiar voice speak a rhyming couplet in a soft poetic English cadence:

“
Dry, dry bones are mine,

Try my bones and make a find.
”

Her body quivered uncontrollably causing her hands to lose their grip on the glass dome. When it struck the floor, the dome exploded into thousands of tiny shards.

“What do you want?” she screamed, tears forming in her eyes.

The mask didn’t skip a beat. Instead, it opted to continue with its rhyme.

“
Follow my steps to find the clues,

Then put on your detective shoes.
”

Andria gawked down at the mask, a puzzled expression on her face. The mask grinned a wide “Joker” smile then uttered an awful, hysterical cackle. The creepy scene and laughter—the second for her in a week—was more than Andria’s nerves could handle. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was the room spinning and the mask mumbling something about the first death being a gift and being stolen from him by those not in the know.

The next moment she fainted and collapsed onto the floor.

Chapter 7

“Pull!” Finnegan yelled a split second before shouldering his Browning twelve-gauge shotgun.

With a smooth, steady swing he followed the bead sight at the end of the gun barrel. When it reached the correct lead distance in front of the first target he squeezed off a quick round. Undeterred by the recoil he continued his efficient swing and quickly overtook the second target then abruptly discharged the firearm again. Both clay pigeons were turned to powder sending their tiny orange fragments in all directions.

“That was a double,” he said, proudly surveying the scene while each of his envied skeet partners crowded the safety line behind him rolling their eyes.

When Finnegan had breached open his shotgun to eject the empty shells, he noticed the shooting range’s safety marshal rapidly approaching and waving him off.

What’s the problem? He thought.

“There’s an important call for you Mr. Winters,” the marshal shouted.

“Aw, nuts. I was just getting warmed up too,” Finnegan said, propping the shotgun on his shoulder. “Looks like you boys were just saved by the bell,” he said, tongue-in-cheek.

Finnegan strolled up the hill to the range’s front office and picked up the telephone.

“Hello?” he said.

“Yes, Detective Winters. This is Lieutenant Anderson. Sorry to interrupt while you’re shooting, but I’ve got a live one down here at the precinct. Never seen her in here before, but she’s desperate to talk. Says she’ll only speak with you.”

“Did she say what it’s about?”

“No. Only that she wants you.”

“Really? What’s her name?”

“Mum again.”

“Okay. Keep her occupied. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

***

When Finnegan reached the police station, he quickly located his mystery woman and went into the interrogation room where she waited.

“Hello Miss, I’m Detective Winters. I’m told you requested a meeting with me.”

The woman didn’t respond; only lifted her eyes and stared back in muted silence.

Finnegan waved a hand in front of her face to make sure she was mentally there. His actions garnered a blink spurring him to try his greeting again.

“Hello Miss, I’m Detective Finnegan Winters. You can call me “Finn” for short. How may I help you?”

“Sorry,” the woman finally said. “I must have been daydreaming. My name is Andria…Andria Walker. I have important information connected with the Death Mask incident from last week at the Museum of Curiosities.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “And what might that be?” he asked, skeptically.

“I have a riddle from the mask. I also think I’ve discovered why the mask is…alive.”

Finn was instantly perturbed but tried not to show it. He’d rushed all the way down here for this nonsense. Really? Thinking her to be an opportunistic prankster looking for entertainment, he was about to school her in the severity of consequences related to interfering with a police investigation when something clicked in his memory.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “I recognize you now. You’re the museum curator that discovered the talking mask, right?”

“Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, why are you talking to me instead of the Lieutenant?”

“Because I pay attention, Mr. Winters. After the first day of investigation, I started keeping tabs on the guys at the scene that night and asking questions to find out who I could trust.”

“And?”

“And, like it or not, you’re it,” she said, pointing her finger at him.

Finn was confused but shook it off. Andria was here with information and he needed to let her spill it. He nodded his head in acceptance of her flattery. “Fair enough. A riddle you say?”

“That’s right, a riddle and the reason why the mask is animated.”

Finn propped his chin on his fist. “Go on. I’m listening.”

“Last night I sneaked back inside the museum; partly to face my fear, but mostly to convince myself that I’m not crazy.”

“How did you gain access?” Finn probed.

“Don’t be a cop right now,” she scolded. “You can arrest me later, just listen.”

“Okay, okay” Finn said, holding up his free hand. “I’m listening.”

“I went into the museum with the intention of staying five minutes, tops. I had already convinced myself that I had imagined the whole thing anyway; a thought that seemed promising until I entered the exhibit room. No sooner had I locked eyes on the mask than it began making intense facial expressions, vibrating up and down and swaying side-to-side. The gyrations were so extreme it looked like it was strangling from a lack of oxygen.”

Finn’s eyes went wide.

“What did you do then?” he asked.

“I lunged toward the pedestal and plucked the glass cover off its base.”

“What happened then?”

“That’s when I heard the first stanza,” she said.

“Stanza? You mean like from a poem?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So, it spoke to you again?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did it say?”

Without delay Andria recited the stanza in cadenced lines:

“
Dry, dry bones are mine,

Try my bones and make a find.
”

Finn scrunched his brows together then said, “Try my bones and make a find. What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you might?”

“No. But what makes you think it’s a riddle?” Finn asked.

“Because he…it…
the mask
repeated the first stanza again then added another.”

“What did it say in the second stanza?”

“Again, in cadence, it said:

“
Dry, dry bones are mine,

Try my bones and make a find.
”

“
Follow my steps to find the clues,

Then put on your detective shoes.
”

“Hmm. Can’t help you with that one either,” Finn said. “So what, pray tell, is your perceived reason for the mask coming to life in the first place?”

“I don’t think it just came to life,” Andria said. “I think it’s always been alive.”

“What? Why would you think that?”

“Because the last thing the mask said to me before I blacked out was that the first death was a gift, but it had been stolen from him by those not in the know.”

“The first death?” Finn questioned.

“Yes,” Andria said. “It’s very weird, I know. I’ve been thinking about it all night. The only thing that makes sense is this. I believe the man whose facial imprint was captured in the mask wasn’t quite dead when the mask was made of his face.”

“I don’t follow.” Finn said.

“Apparently, the not yet dead man’s life force was somehow transmitted into the wet plaster just prior to his final breath and now resides, trapped within the mask.”

Finn stared at her debating what to say.

“And one more thing,” Andria said. “It spoke in a creepy English accent.”

English accent
?

“What happened after it spoke the last stanza?” Finn asked.

“I fainted.”

“Any idea how long you were out?”

“No, sir. The next thing I remember the night guard was leaning over me, fanning my face with his hat.”

Instead of speaking, Finn pulled out his notepad and tore off the top sheet. He wrote his cell phone number at the top then slid the paper across the desk to her.

“Here,” he said. “I’m gonna need some time for this to sink in. In the meantime, call me if you need anything. I’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Winters. “I knew I could count on you.”

Chapter 8

Finn’s cell phone rang four times before he picked it up.

“Hello,” he mumbled, squinting to make out the glowing numbers on the clock beside his bed. It was just before three o’clock in the morning.

“Hi, Mr. Winters, it’s me, Andria Walker.”

“Miss…Walker?”

“Yes, from earlier this afternoon. I hope I didn’t wake the entire house.”

“No, ma’am, I live alone.”

“Thank goodness,” Andria said. “Listen, I think I’ve figured what our next move should be.”

“Excuse me?” he said, still half asleep. “Miss Walker. Do you know what time it is?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been thinking about the riddle and our conversation all night. The mask said to follow his steps to find the clues then put on our detective shoes, right?”

“That’s what you said, yes, ma’am.”

“Well, in that case, I think we should go to Pennsylvania.”

“Pennsylvania? Why?” Finn asked, fully awake now. He flipped his bed covers to the side and sat up.

“Because that’s where the clues are,” Andria said.

“Wait a minute,” Finn said. “Just hold on. I know this may be hard for you to accept since you were so intimately involved with what happened, but you’re not affiliated with the police department. What makes you think you’re going anywhere?”

“Because you need me.”

“Need you? How do you figure that?”

“Being the head curator for the museum, I have the luxury of knowledge associated with all its contents. Hence, I know the last place the mask resided was in Pennsylvania. And by my calculations, if we follow the mask’s trail backwards we’re sure to find something that may explain what it is this crazy mask wants us to find.”

“Listen. No offense,” Finn said. “But while I do believe you’ve had quite a scare and I’m willing to help you get to the bottom of what happened, as much out of morbid curiosity as anything else, I’m also not completely convinced it was anything more than a hallucination. But I certainly don’t have confidence in pursuing a half-baked plan being devised at three o’clock in the morning by someone with zero investigative experience. Again, no offense, but I’m deferring to better judgment that surely awaits me in the morning.”

“It’s all right, detective. No offense taken. I understand how crazy my story sounds—it sounds crazy to me too—but don’t think I’m going to let it slide. This mask wants something and I aim to find out what it is.”

“No argument here,” Finn said. “I’ve only just met you, but I have no doubts about you not letting anything slide. Call me in the morning and I’ll hear you out, but I’m making no promises.”

“Fair enough, detective. You can count on hearing from me in the morning.”

Bully for me, Finn thought and hung up the phone.

Chapter 9

“Atlanta Police department, this is Detective Winters speaking.”

“Good morning, Finn,” returned an excited woman’s voice.

“Hi, Andria. You sound rather perky this morning.”

“That’s because I am. I went over to the museum early this morning before it opened and gathered the information we’ll need to begin our backtracking in Pennsylvania.”

Finn rolled his eyes then asked, “What kind of information?”

“The name and address of the farmhouse owner in Pennsylvania where the mask was found before it was put up for sale at auction.”

Finn’s eyebrows rose. “That would indeed be a great start,” he said. “I’ve got a pencil handy. Go ahead with that address and I’ll check it out.”

“Hey, wait just a minute there, bub. I’m going with you.”

Finn’s shoulders fell. Drat, he thought. Maybe I should just subpoena the records.

“Miss Walker, I know you’re passionate about this case, but I won’t need your help. In fact, it would be illegal.”

“Call me Andria,” she corrected. “And I beg to differ. As far as we know, I’m the only one the mask has spoken to. Correct?”

“Yes, ma’am. As far as we know.”

“Then I think you’ll agree that gives me more skin in the game than anyone else. And by odd coincidence, I’m also the best versed in its recent history. That unique perspective means that I may be able to recognize something that might otherwise go overlooked.”

Finn scrunched his face. Ugh. She’s right, he thought.

There was a long pause as Finn calculated how to respond.

“Detective? Are you still there?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Would doughnuts help?” Andria said, teasing.

“Excuse me?”

“Policemen love doughnuts, right? If I promise to bring doughnuts, would that persuade you?”

“Very funny,” Finn replied.

“Just playing the cards in my hand,” Andria said.

I like this woman, Finn thought. She’s got spunk.

“Okay Andria, tell you what. I could take you along as a “subject matter expert,” but that would really be skirting the edge of the rules. Not sure how the Lieutenant would feel about it since you’re also the victim in the case.”

“So…?”

“So, to avoid breaking any laws, we’ll have to make it a “date.”

“A date?” Andria said, her tone broadcasting amusement. “I like the sound of that!”

Finn did a face palm. He hated being caught between a rock and a hard place.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, reluctantly. “That keeps it unofficial. I have family members that work for Delta Airlines, so we can fly stand-by for $100 each without having to pass it through the department, and hopefully, the Lieutenant. I can clear my schedule to leave as early as lunchtime today. Shall I get us a couple of plane tickets and a rental car for this afternoon or had you rather wait for the red eye?”