Chapter 3
The moment Melanie reached her room in the dormitory-the room she shared with Kate Cartwright-she threw herself on her bed completely exhausted. It had been a strange and trying day, a day that wasn't over yet. There was more to come. Ursula had said that she would telephone about eight that evening which gave Melanie several hours to relax, to turn herself off and store up all the energy she could for the third and final stage of her initiation. She recalled Sheila's words-"a test in courage and loyalty." Whatever they had cooked up, Melanie told herself, it was going to be a whopper.
Following the first two stages of her initiation, Melanie had enjoyed herself enormously. She had accepted two cocktails and had dipped into the delicious Swiss Fondu along with the others and had almost forgotten about her humiliating ordeal. None of the girls stared at her, except Ursula, who was the most cordial. No one smirked or giggled in her direction. It was as if she had been one of them for years instead of being a new recruit they had just put through the wringer.
The girls who were members of the Witchwags were all so poised, so attractive, so very sure of themselves. Melanie wanted so much to be considered one of them, wanted to like them in every respect. All at once she was very glad, very glad indeed, that she had not weakened during the interrogation. She was determined to pass whatever silly test they put her to.
Being a Witchwagger, Melanie concluded, made all the difference in the world, if you went to Turbenthal.
Some of the girls were naturally more attractive than the others. Some were more out going and friendly, while others appeared to be cool and aloof and sophisticated ... yet there was a sameness to the group, a subtle uniformity, a stamp of breeding that set them apart from any group of girls Melanie had ever known. She wanted to be like them more than anything else in the world.
For some unfathomable reason, Melanie could not forget the girl with the heavy perfume and the syrupy, sweet voice that had sought to reassure her and had ventured to whisper the startling bit of flattery when she stood naked and blindfolded. Melanie had expected the girl to come up and identify herself the moment she had reentered the room, but for some reason the girl apparently preferred to remain anonymous.
She had not found Sheila Winslow any easier to like than before. There was something about the slender and aristocratically lovely English girl that annoyed her and yet she could not find a basis for her feelings. Cold almost to the point of being insufferable, the President of the Witchwags certainly seemed to command a lot of respect and admiration from the other members. Next to Sheila, Ursula seemed to be the second in command and in popularity. Melanie wondered if it was due to her father's wealth and the fact that she used her father's ski lodge for the clubs meeting and parties.
Melanie's thoughts came to an abrupt end when she heard the doorknob turning. She glanced up as Kate waltzed into the room. Her cutely curved roommate was humming softly and it was obvious that she had enjoyed one too many cocktails.
"Melanie, you were marvelous. All the girls have been talking about you. I'm so proud that you're my roommate."
"Thanks, Kate. I'm really indebted to you for sponsoring me."
"Forget it. I'm sure you're going to make it. I just hope you aren't angry at me for not having warned you about what was going to happen. I had to keep it a secret."
"I understand. It would have been unbearable if I had known."
"You're the first girl I've sponsored-and everyone says you're a marvelous candidate-even Sheila."
Melanie tried to keep her voice casual as she voiced the question that kept nagging at her mind. "Kate, who was the girl who helped me undress-the one on my right. The one with the soft sweet voice?"
Kate's face grew visibly sullen. "Oh, her! That's Olivia Lucas. Do you like her?"
"I don't even know her. I haven't the faintest idea who she is. I was blindfolded, remember."
"That's right. You don't know Olivia, do you? She was here last year and had to drop out in the middle of the semester. Her mother died. She just returned to Turbenthal this week."
"What's she look like?"
Kate softened somewhat. "Well, Olivia's sort of pretty, if you like that type. Long hair, angelic, frail. I've never cared much for her myself. She's too vain and too much of a will-o-the-wisp type."
Melanie let the remark pass unchallenged but she repeated the girl's name over and over again to herself. Olivia Lucas. Olivia. It fit the syrupy voice and the tiny fingers.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Kate remembered. "Ursula is picking you up at eight-out in front of our dorm."
"I don't suppose you can give me a hint as to what I'm in for?"
"I wouldn't think of it," Kate stressed. "You might not go through with it. Anyway it won't be long. Ursula will explain everything to you when you meet at eight o'clock. Good luck."
Melanie nodded and settled back on her bed.
"We're having a get together tonight at the club house," Kate informed Melanie. "We'll all be there waiting for the results."
Melanie sighed. "Heaven help me."
Ursula was waiting in front of the dormitory at eight o'clock when Melanie came out. She was seated behind the wheel of a sleek looking white Ferrari, gunning the motor. She wore a stunning leopard skin jacket with a wide spread collar that was pulled up to frame her glossy black hair and her olive complexion.
"I congratulate you," Ursula said as a greeting.
"Why?"
"Some of the girls-Olivia Lucas for one-thought you might chicken out."
"Not me, Ursula. Once I start something I go all the way."
"Good!" Ursula possessed a mature sophistication that made her appear to be older than she was. She could have easily passed for 24 or 25.
Melanie climbed into the front seat beside Ursula and closed the car door. The Ferrari made a U-turn and a moment later was roaring down the school driveway to the outer road. Melanie gazed at Ursula and marveled at how easily and casually she handled the powerful car. She sighed enviously as she thought about girls like Ursula, who could afford all of life's luxuries and yet seemed to accept them in such a matter-of-fact fashion.
Melanie drew a breath, enjoying the flow of cool evening air against her face. She felt refreshed and experienced a new tingle of anticipation as they sped toward her unknown assignment.
Ursula turned to smile at her, the close cropped black hair fluttering attractively in the wind. "Before I break the bad news to you, may I ask you a personal question?"
Melanie laughed wryly. "Are there any questions left to ask?" Ursula chuckled appreciatively. "Fire away. Ask whatever you like."
"You room with Kate Cartwright?"
"Yes, why?"
"Do you like her? I mean are you two very close?"
"Of course I like her," Melanie answered slightly bewildered. "I don't know what you mean exactly by 'very close,' but we are good friends. We met at the beginning of the term when I came to Turbenthal and was assigned to room with her. When I found out Kate was a member of the Witchwags, I asked her to sponsor me. That's about it."
The brunette gave Melanie a searching look as she took her eyes momentarily off the road. "You haven't the slightest idea what I am trying to find out, do you?"
Melanie shook her head honestly. "No, I don't."
Ursula laughed huskily. "Oh, baby, are you in for a shock."
"About Kate?"
"About everything," Ursula replied. "When you said this afternoon you were innocent, you were not joking, were you?"
Melanie watched Ursula manage to light a cigarette while steering the Ferrari with one hand. She pondered over Ursula's remarks and tried to make some sense out of them. The only thing she could be certain about was that she was rooming with the rather frivolous and scatterbrained Kate Cartwright.
"We're almost there so perhaps I had better start to brief you," Ursula announced flatly, without looking in Melanie's direction. "Don't bother to ask any questions when I am finished. I will tell you all I am supposed to, and that is as far as I can go. I am a very loyal Witch-wagger."
Melanie suddenly felt tense again. "I understand."
The glowing cigarette bobbed in the darkness as Ursula spoke without removing it from her lips. "About three weeks ago we had a little party. Unfortunately, it got a little out of control. A member of our esteemed faculty, Mrs. Briar, happened to be in the immediate area and ... well, most of us got away in time, but one of our members was caught in the act ... and I do mean, caught in the act without being fully dressed."
Melanie could not restrain the giggle that came from her throat. "Who were you initiating then?"
"Never mind. That's not the point. Mrs. Briar reported the matter to the Dean of Discipline who telephoned the girl's father and gave him a vivid account of the incident. Fortunately, the father of this particular girl happens to be a substantial contributor to Turbenthal Hall, so the matter was dropped. Money always talks, even in academic circles."
"I'm beginning to believe it," Melanie said appreciatively.
"The point of all this is that the Witchwags have decided to even the score with that bitch Mrs. Briar, who informed on one of our members. And that is where you come in, my dear Miss Stevens."
"Oh." Melanie's mind was beginning to conjure all sorts of terrible prospects and it took all her determination to sit quietly without asking questions, waiting for Ursula to go on.
The Ferrari made a sharp turn, throwing Melanie over against Ursula. As Melanie straightened up in her seat, she noticed that they were driving through Faculty Circle, a group of small but attractive houses lining both sides of the curved road that were occupied almost without exception by members of the faculty at Turbenthal.
Ursula slowed down the Ferrari and pulled off to the side of the road. She switched off the headlights and the motor and leaned back in her seat to light another cigarette. "Do you know who lives in the end house?"
"I can guess. Mrs. Briar?"
"Very good. As a matter-of-fact, that is why you were picked for this mission. We knew you weren't in any of her classes." Ursula glanced at her diamond wrist watch and leaned forward to open the glove compartment, taking out a metallic flask. "Would you care for a little blast before going into battle?"
"No, thank you," Melanie trembled, gazing at the house on the corner.
Ursula tilted the flask and then licked her lips before screwing the top back into place. "We've waited for just the right moment to get even with the bitch. The faculty is having a progressive dinner tonight."
"A progressive dinner?"
"That's when a group of people get together and plan a seven course dinner, going from house to house for a different course." Ursula nodded her head, indicating the house across the street that was all lighted up.
"They're all over at Miss Krauss' house right now for the meat course. The little dears are probably stuffing themselves. They're all due at Mrs. Briar's house for coffee and cake in about another hour, so there's plenty of time."
"Time for what?" Melanie gulped, almost afraid to ask.
Ursula slumped back in her seat and gazed at Melanie. "All right, here's your instructions."
Melanie turned stiffly in her seat, her stomach fluttering, her palms perspiring. All at once, the night air was cold and it made her shiver. From what Ursula had told her, it was obvious that she was merely a pawn in a game of revenge, but she knew that if she refused to carry out her mission, she'd be ostracized by the Witchwags.
"You're to go around to the back of the house and enter through the kitchen door," Ursula resumed, her voice soft and yet crisp. "It will be unlocked. It has all been arranged. Once you are inside the house, go into the study-it's to the right of the hall in the front-and leave these." Ursula reached under the seat and produced two books and a dozen or more postcard size pictures neatly tied together.
Ursula paused long enough for Melanie to accept the packet and inspect it. The pictures were all lurid Parisian postcards of nude models, both men and women, posed in obscene positions. By the titles on the side of the books, Melanie surmised they were just as shocking. One was a book on sadism; the other was a novel titled "Love is a Four Letter Word."
"They're all vividly illustrated," Ursula informed her. "Leave the books on the coffee table and place the pictures all around the frame of the mirror over the mantle. Are you still with me?"
Melanie stared at the beautiful Italian girl in disbelief. "Yes," she sighed nervously. "I think so."
"Next you go up the stairs to the second floor. There are two bedrooms. Mrs. Briar's bedroom is to the left. Once inside the bedroom, muss up the bed-climb into it and roll around a lot. Oh, and this is important. Be sure and get lipstick smears on the pillow." Ursula reached into her purse at this point and produced a small bottle of perfume. "Here, take this; and sprinkle a little bit around."
Melanie looked at the small bottle of perfume. It was called "Passionata."
"Now once you have mussed up the bed and left it looking as though an orgy has taken place, you are to slip out of your panties and leave them behind on the floor near the bed."
"Ursula, I don't think. I mean, I never expected anything like this."
"Please, let me finish." Ursula reached into the back seat of the car and produced a small cosmetic size kit. "Here, take this also, and leave what's inside it on the night table."
"May I ask what's in it?"
"A few priceless little props. The things men and women use to protect themselves when they do things they should not be doing together."
Melanie took a deep breath, trying to calm her fears, trying to draw confidence from Ursula's lack of concern. "What do I do then?"
"That's all. Then you just sneak out of the house the way you went in."
"Will you be here waiting for me?"
"I'll be here waiting, with the motor running." Ursula smiled and gave Melanie a reassuring pat of confidence on the knee. "Don't worry baby. There's nothing to worry about. If anybody approaches the house, I'll honk the horn and give you a warning to get out fast. Now, have you got it all straight?"
"There's only one thing. I mean I just don't see the point with the bedroom. What if some of the members of the faculty don't go into Mrs. Briar's bedroom?"
"It doesn't matter. Mrs. Briar will be going into the bedroom to take off her coat and hat. And Mrs. Briar has a husband who is quite a chaser. He's tried to get friendly with several of the girls."
"Oh, I'm beginning to see. You want Mrs. Briar to think that her husband has been cheating on her."
"That's the idea. And if some of the faculty members should venture up to Mrs. Briar's bedroom, all the better."
"Are you sure nobody's in the house now."
"Positive. You can see for yourself. All the lights are out." Ursula glanced down at her wrist watch. "It's getting late. You better go right now."
Melanie knew if she stopped to analyze all the ramifications, she would never be able to go through with such a daring mission. She checked to make sure she had everything-the books, the small kit and the bottle of perfume-and then started to hop out of the car, looking about cautiously.
Ursula's voice halted her movements. "One thing more, Melanie. If anything goes wrong, well, that is where the test of loyalty comes in. You're on your own, understand? You're not to say anything to involve the Witchwags. Make up whatever story or excuse you like, but leave the club out of it."
Melanie nodded determinedly. "I understand."
"Good luck."
Melanie moistened her lips as she stepped out onto the quiet road and gave Ursula one final look before starting toward the house on the corner. The only sound of life came from the house across the road, where the faculty was enjoying the main course of their progressive dinner.
While the greatest part of Melanie's mind suffered with thoughts of what could go wrong, and what could happen to her as a result of her actions, a small part was amused by the ingenious plot devised by The Witchwags for harassing Mrs. Briar for being an informer.
She crossed the yard and circled the quiet house toward the rear, straining her eyes against the darkness in search of the back door. She found it without any difficulty and slowly, ever so cautiously, turned the knob. She prayed with all her heart that the door was locked, that something had gone wrong with the arrangements, but unfortunately, the door swung inward under her touch.
Hesitating, her heart pounding wildly, Melanie took a deep breath and stepped inside, slowly closing the door behind her.