Chapter 7
Patty Pen waited no longer than it took Wayne Glenn to depart the upstairs room to decide that she was leaving the party. Her body still stammered in sexual frustration, her mind still seethed with anger for Roger Harper, and her motivation was one meant for hurt and revenge when Patty redressed, slowly moved down the stairs, and left the Glenn residence through a back door.
When she had circled the house, Patty saw the black car Mona Fiken had driven to the party. Patty moved to it, opened the door, and climbed inside. The keys were in the ignition. Patty felt exhilarated. She boosted herself behind the wheel. Then she merely sat there, her destination uncertain. Then she thought about driving immediately to her father with an expose on the hospital. This would be fine revenge against Roger, she decided, against him and all the others. But she delayed moving along the path of that decision. Then she decided to return to the hospital where she might gain something more to give her father, something more incriminating than rumors and her own tall tales. Patty-zoomed the car into action and bolted it away from the driveway.
Patty parked the car in the visitors' parking lot. It was very early in the morning and the cars that were present were parked at distorted angles to the yellow lines as if they had stopped hurriedly as the occupants answered the sad call of the hospital that told them of a loved one's worsening.
Patty entered the hospital at a back entrance. She paused in the hall and looked around. It was quiet. She climbed the stairs to the first floor and moved close to the double swinging door. An intern and two nurses talked at a desk. An orderly pushed an empty stretcher past them. There was no break in the conversation between the intern and the nurses. Patty pushed away from the door and breathed deeply, still undecided as to her purpose or her destination. Then she thought of the basement, that a basement was always a good place to discover evil and that this one perhaps contained some tangible evidence that she could give to her father. She turned and descended the stairs that she had just climbed. She did not stop until she faced the gray doors that led to the basement.
A slight tremble of fear coursed up Patty's spine. She shivered. Her nipples grew taut against her party dress. But she did not hesitate to push open the doors and step into the basement.
Everything' was gray and cement, even the floor. The quiet was as sure as death. Patty looked down the corridor. A red exit light burned at the door at the end. And between it and her there were white signs protruding at various doors indicating the laundry room, the stock room, medical supplies, kitchen supplies, and several other purposes of the rooms that Patty could not make out.
Slowly, she walked down the cement floored hallway. At each door Patty paused and tried it. They were all locked. And then she tried another door and it opened. She stepped back and looked up at this sign that she had not read. It was labeled the morgue. Patty jumped away from the partially opened door.
Now, her step was quicker and she longed to reach the end of the hallway and depart the eerie feeling that prevailed all through the basement. New chills ran up her back; new tautness came to her nipples and at her thighs there was a cramp.
Patty stopped in front of the door. She put her hand on the knob. It was cold. She waited, then she turned it. It creaked a bit. She turned it fully and put her right shoulder against its heaviness, preparatory to pushing her way out of the basement. And then she halted again. She was sure she heard a noise. She loosened her grip on the door knob and looked back down the length of hallway she had traveled. There was nothing, yet she was swamped with the feeling of the presence of another. She gasped a short cry, then turned the door knob and had opened it fully and taken a quick step forward when she bumped head long into the form of Amos Fiken.
"Well, my dear, this is a strange place to find one of our patients," he said slowly, smiling a bit, looking very evil.
"Oh, I-well, I was--. "
"Creeping around," he said, offering it to her as the end of her sentence.
"No. I was just coming back to the hospital from that stupid party your sister invited me to-I was just coming back and decided to-to--. "
"To look around and see what you might find, perhaps ? "
"Umh, no-I was just curious about what a hospital basement looked like."
"Did you like what you saw?" he asked.
"No. I didn't look at anything. I just walked from that door to this one and I was just leaving when you stopped me."
"What a shame. You really do need a guide in this part of Riverdale. And, Patty, allow me to be your guide."
"Oh, no, that's all right. I'll just go along to my room now," she said, backing away from him a bit.
Amos Fiken shook his head and took a step closer to her, allowing the heavy door to snap shut behind him. "No, indeed, it's no trouble for me at all, Patty. I want to show you everything that's down here."
Patty did not retreat another step. She held her ground. She breathed deeply, suddenly feeling defiant and strong, feeling the confidence of her father's authority with hospitals and with Amos Fiken especially.
"Come, I'll just show you one little room," Fiken said.
"No, goddamn it," Patty blurted. "I don't want to see it. I don't want to and if you keep coming closer to me like this I'm going to-to tell my father everything that's going on around this place."
Fiken's face paled. "Everything that's going on? What do you know about what's going on?"
"Enough," she said, sensing that she had struck upon more than she had anticipated, knowing that her vagueness had been taken as something definite by Fiken.
Fiken leaped forward and with a speed that gave credit to a much younger man, he lashed his hand out and caught Patty by the front of her dress.
"What do you know, you little bitch?" he hissed, knotting the material tightly at her breasts.
"Enough," she repeated.
"What?" he shouted. His voice was choked with near-hysterics.
"Enough-enough to get you kicked out-tosend you to jail."
Fiken breathed a harsh breath, tightened his hold upon her, loosened it as he flung her away from him. Patty stumbled backward several steps until she sprawled upon the cold cement floor.
Fiken was above her in an instant. He gripped her hair and yanked her to her feet. Then he turned her and forced her ahead of him as he moved her toward one of the doors.
Patty glanced up and read the sign when he stopped, in front of the door. When she saw it was the morgue, she cried out, "Oh, no. God no, don't take me in there. Please-no!"
Fiken did not answer her. He just maintained his grip upon her hair and pushed her ahead of him. He opened the door and shoved her inside.
Patty skidded across the cement floor. And then she struck against something hard and there was a rattle. When she righted herself she screamed for she had bumped against one of the iron drawers of the morgue. It was open. It held the white shrouded form of a body.
The door clicked behind Fiken. Patty looked into his eyes. They were filled with as much fear as was contained in her own. But his fear looked different, she decided. His fear looked like one that had increased its burden upon him daily until at last he had reached a breaking point. Patty didn't doubt that she was to be the subject of this cumulative fear that seemed now to shake Amos Fiken to near-insanity.
Smiling sickly, Amos Fiken approached her. Patty took another step backwards, but turned to make sure that she would not again bump into the cadaver upon the tray. It was when her head turned that Fiken leaped upon her again. He grabbed her by the shoulders and jolted her close to him.
"You're such a goddamn smart little bitch," he panted. "So smart-so pretty-so goddamn intent about everything that goes on. Well, we'll see if I can change all that for you."
"Leave me alone," she said. She did not look at him as she spoke.
"Oh, I'll leave you alone all right," !he said. "Soon. Very soon, I'll leave you all alone. More alone than you've ever been-alone for the rest of your--. " He stopped and started to laugh.
It became nearly a womanly giggle of hysteria. When it subsided, he said, "I was about to say 'alone for the rest of your life,' then I realized how silly that description was."
Patty strained against his hold upon her shoulders. Then she relaxed for a moment and tried to bring her foot against his shin, but he sidestepped and jammed her body close to his, inhibiting any further adventure for freedom. Then, with one hand, again holding her by the hair, he moved toward the cadaver on the tray. He gripped the end of the tray with one hand and gave it a hard push. The tray glided into the ice-box vault. Fiken slammed the door shut behind it.
Patty felt relief sweep over her. But it was only momentary and entirely unjustified. Amos Fiken gripped the handle of another tray that was resting within the vault. He jerked it, and all seven feet of it came out with a tinny clang. It was empty.
The smell of formaldehyde stung at her nostrils. Her eyes stung too. She felt sick at the pit of her stomach and she had the feeling of being trapped with a madman from whom she could not escape. Then Fiken forced her onto the tray, holding her flat with one strong hand against her chest as he jammed her right wrist into a strap at the side of the tray. Then he did the same to her left hand, and finally, after defeating her vicious kick, at both her feet.
Patty stared up at Fiken. His face was now lined and he looked suddenly decades older. Patty had the feeling of watching a horror movie, one in which she had been cast as the murdered heroine.
"Ah, very nice, very nice, indeed," Fiken said, rubbing his hands together above her body. "Such an absolutely delectable body-such a delightful specimen for science."
"For science?" she exclaimed. "Yes. For my particular science," he said. "I've been working on a gynecological procedure for years."
Patty turned away. She did not speak.
"Yes, indeed," he continued. "For many years now I've been sure that we could remove the fallopian tubes of a woman without major surgery." He paused and giggled madly, then added, "And without anesthetic either."
Patty's throat crammed as a bile taste of fear rose and clogged there. Finally, she swallowed. The bile taste remained.
"Well, we might as well proceed immediately," Fiken said, still rubbing his hands together and looking around.
Patty strained against the leather straps that held her. She could arch, but could not cause the slightest hint of freedom.
"Ah, yes," Fiken said, looking at her. "That's a good beginning. I can see that you feel cramped with clothing and want to be free of them."
"Just free, you bastard," she could not help yelling even as it frightened her and hurt her throat.
"Someday we'll all be free, my dear," he answered seriously. "And you'll be freer sooner than the rest of us." '
With that he unbuttoned the top button of her dress. But by the time it was loose from its fastenings, he had become impatient with buttons and zippers and clutched her dress and tore it from her body, ripping it down the front and making it fall apart from its middle as if it were a body that had been sliced open. Fiken made short work of Patty's shoes and stockings and skimpy bikini panties.
When she was naked, he stepped back a half-pace and looked at her.
"Delightful," he mumbled. "Completely delightful tissue turgor."
"What?" Patty said, suddenly thinking that her only hope for freedom rested in her ability to delay him.
"Tissue turgor, my dear," Fiken explained. "That's the texture and substance of your skin. Your's is divine."
"Thank you," she said, realizing how silly the words were but recognizing that these, too, helped delay the madman from his mission. Then she was struck with new inspiration and said, "Tell me something, Dr. Fiken, how did you know I was down in the basement?"
"Fate gave me that opportunity, my dear."
"Fate?"
"Yes, indeed. Fate. I believe in it, you know."
"Fate?" she questioned again, racing her mind to find words to add to it in order to cause further delay.
"Yes, you see I was standing by the medical library window when you drove into the parking lot. I recognized my sister's car, then saw you. And when you didn't appear at either of the two corridors above where you entered, well, it had to mean that you had come to the basement."
Her throat clogged tighter and she could not think of anything else to say that would further delay the intentions of Amos Fiken.
And, Fiken was beyond further delay, for he dropped his hands to the side and said, "And now we must proceed-proceed at once."
He turned from Patty and walked across the room. Then, from a space beneath a cupboard, he pulled out a small table on wheels. It had a white cloth on top. And on top of the cloth were the various surgical instruments that were used in this room by the pathologists who sought the cause of those who had died. Fiken rolled the table before him and adjusted it before Patty and to his side, a place that placed the instruments in close proximity to his reach.
Patty glanced at the table. Her eyes bugged when she saw the gleaming scalpels and forceps, the balls of cotton, the bottles of alcohol and other bottles of other tinctures. Then she looked directly at Fiken and screamed.
He only smiled at her. Patty, looking at him, saw the heavy door and knew that no sound could pierce it. Then she glanced to the ceiling and saw the perforations that marked the room as soundproof. Then she strained against the leather straps, shaking her head from side to side as if this alone might free her. But it did not. She relaxed her back to the table and began to sob.
"There, there, my dear," Fiken said as if he were calming an excited patient. "This won't take long, but we'll be very careful to go slowly." At this, he giggled again.
His giggled stopped abruptly. He turned from Patty to the surgical table from which he picked up a scalpel. He held it delicately in his right hand. Then he leaned over her body.
Patty looked at the scalpel that quivered slightly above her thighs. Then she remembered delay and said, "I thought you said you developed this procedure without surgery."
"That's true, my dear," he said. "The scalpel isn't for the operation-it's for a little etching work first."
"Etching?"
"Yes, my dear. Upon your body."
He moved his left hand forward and between the thumb and forefinger of it, lifted the nipple of her left breast high, stretching it away from its base of flesh. He lowered the surgical knife and brought its cutting edge close to the nipple. Then he paused.
"This will hardly be felt," he said, breathing excitedly again.
"Nor Patty cried.
"Oh, but yes," Fiken said. "You see, I'm so tired-I've had so many, many things upon my mind. I've been so tired-tired, tired, all the time. And my burdens are so heavy, so very heavy. And I must relieve them-and I can-by keeping you from telling your father about the hospital-about me-me and Mona-well, I'll be able to prevent the tiredness and burdens that I carry."
He said the words in a vague, sing-song manner that made Patty aware again of his madness. And she felt her helplessness even more intently.
The scalpel quivered in Fiken's hand. He brought it forward and touched its cold steel against the nipple. Then he paused. Then he lowered the scalpel to the table next to Patty.
"Oh, my, this can wait a moment-for just a moment--. "
He moved his hands over Patty's body. He touched lovingly at her breasts and she wondered how they could feel so filled with love when they were already committed to her disfigurement. Then she knew that it was only possible because of the twisted ambivalence of the insane. But she took hope from his caresses upon her body, realizing that they offered the delay she sought.
Fiken trailed all ten of his fingers over her body. He touched her from her breasts to her stomach and back again. Then he touched at her thighs. For a moment, he grew very excited, but then, as if thinking better of the impulse, he brought his hands away from her body. "You're very beautiful," he said. She looked straight ahead and did not answer.
Then, as if he were bidding her farewell, he bent over her and kissed her on the lips.
Patty sparked with hope-perhaps sex alone could delay her mutilation. She opened her mouth and waited for Fiken to plunge his tongue within it. When he did, she drew upon it wildly, moving her head from side to side and faking little animal sounds of pleasure. Then, she heard sounds coming from Fiken's throat, too. And very quickly she felt his hands upon her body again; one at her breasts, the other at her thighs. And then she felt the hand leave her breasts as hi; mouth pulled away from her lips and descended to her breasts, touching with his tongue the very same places where his hands had played.
Patty wished that she could grasp Fiken's head and force his face closer to her body, conveying by this means her excitement and yearning, faked, of course, but vital to her life, to the delay she hoped to impose. But she could not grasp his head: She could not entice him by any extra means. Only her naked body was available to tempt him.
For awhile, Fiken was very excited and it seemed to Patty that he might be persuaded to give up his plan to mutilate her. When he bent lower and kissed at her thighs, burrowing deeply, she arched as high as she could. But her motion had an opposite effect. It did not make him captive of her sexuality. Instead, it returned the madman to those thoughts with which he was first possessed.
Fiken raised and looked into her face. Then he said, "And now, back to business."
Patty's eyes pleaded, but she did not speak.
Fiken picked up the scalpel again. He raised the full meat of her left breast, then, beneath it, began a gentle sawing as Patty screamed.