Dana E Donovan The Witch's Ladder (pdf)

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Yes! That s good, Michael, Valerie answered. I can believe that. It makes sense. What do you think,
Detective? Is someone killing these people just to read their entrails? Or do you still think it s a case of ritual
sacrifice?
I pulled on the brim of my hat without answering. I then turned and started walking over to Leona Diaz, still
the quietest one in the room. She sat alone at the far end of the big oak table, closest to the corner by the door.
Until now, few had noticed the look of fright etched so profoundly upon her face. As I approached, Leona
stiffened her back and shoulders and tugged on her coat lapels as though snuggling up to a security blanket. She
glanced several times toward Doctor Lieberman, looking for reassurance, but his smile offered no immediate
comfort. I reached the other end of the table and knelt beside her.
Hola, Leona. Buenos nochas, I said, my voice trained softly. Por favor, escusa mi Espa�ol. Para me, su
sido un largo tiempo.
Leona s mouth pinched up at the corners, but stopped just shy of a smile. Please, Detective, she answered,
practically in a whisper. Mi Ingles, es not so bad.
Gracias. Porque no es preciso mi Espa�ol.
De nada.
Leona. Doctor Lieberman tells me that you can sometimes be in two places simultaneously, that you
bilocate. Is that true?
Si, Detective, it is true, but I do not have power over such things. It happens mostly when I sleep, or if I am
hypnotized.
I see. Then tell me, while experiencing this bilocation, have you ever gone to Suffolk s Walk?
Leona pulled back sharply, gasping as though the wind had been sucked from her lungs in a single instant.
Her complexion grew flush, as it seemed she could no longer breathe at all. I reached for her hands, which
clung like vice grips to the arms of her chair. Terror blazed in her eyes and I thought for a moment that I had
seen the devil behind them. Valerie Spencer let out a shriek, perhaps evoking the vision that so horrified Leona.
What is it, Leona? I asked. What do you see? Tell me what you see.
Her stare grew more distant. Her hands trembled. She began reciting the Lord s Prayer repeatedly, first in
English, then in Spanish, until eventually the words became undecipherable, neither English nor Spanish, but
rather an utterance of nonsensical gibberish.
Glossolalia! Shekina cried. Glossolalia! She is speaking in tongues. She is possessed with the Holy
Spirit.
Possessed? I turned to her. Why is she possessed?
She is communicating with the Holy Spirit. Glossolalia will prevent Satan from interfering. She most
certainly cannot hear you now, Detective.
Astonished beyond words, I watched as Leona fell deeper into a spontaneous trance. I imagined the struggle
going on in her mind, and wondered if she had transported herself back to the scene of the crime at Suffolk s
Walk.
What do you see, Leona? Tell me! But she would not, or could not acknowledge my words. She continued
speaking in tongues, clutching her rosary and repeating the chants like a mantra, drawing strength from its
words or protection from its source.
I panned the room, hoping for some indication as to where Leona s episode of glossolalia might take her
next. I studied the faces to those looking back, and saw the look of concern on everyone present; everyone that
is, but for Lilith Adams. Strangely, Lilith seemed not only unconcerned, but also amused. Her hands twiddled in
mechanical sequence as she tightened another knot in the piece of rope she had been working on earlier. I stood
up and started across the room. She hastened her efforts, tying another and yet another knot in the line as
quickly as she could before I approached. As I reached her, she had pulled taut the last of forty knots, looked up
and tossed the line directly at me. I snatched the rope in mid-air as it sailed toward my face.
So what is this? I asked, holding the rope up by the first knot like a string of minnows on a fishing line.
What does it look like?
It looks like a rope with a bunch of knots tied in it.
Bravo. You see? I guess that s why you are the detective.
Yeah, but something tells me it s more than just a bunch of knots, isn t it? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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