The Lurker at the Threshold : A Horror Mystery Page 2

  “Perhaps you would like it gift-wrapped?”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Macky said. He was smiling and looking around, the candles, sigils, and books. “Yes. Definitely a gag shop. Halloween being right around the corner and all.”

  “You’re too wise for me, my friend.”

  “Yeah. That’s the catch.”

  “No catch. Just baptism.”

  “One of the anointed, is that it?”

  This warranted a huge grin from the man behind the counter. “You are too quick for me, sir. Yog-Sothoth greets you.”

  “Yog . . . what?”

  Macky didn’t get the chance to hear a reply. He was out on the street with the book in his hands. He didn’t remember walking outside, but when he turned to the store, it was dark. The candles had been snuffed out, and the sign had been turned to, Closed.

  He was back on Lincoln Avenue.

  —

  After Millie had left, he didn’t think much about it. He had gotten the gift the day before after she’d gone home, and he’d brought it to the office the next day. Halloween gag gifts. It was the only thing that made sense. Pretty clever, even carnival-like. He was disappointed Millie had taken it so seriously.

  He’d make a night of it, though. It would be fun. He got some bourbon, lit a few candles, a cigarette, and put his feet up on the desk, and set the book on his lap.

  He opened the tome and started turning the pages. They were old and delicate. He scanned the introduction, which made him smile—a bunch of nonsense and poppycock. He laughed at the mention of “forbidden knowledge—studying the arcane truths of cosmic evils in light of humanity’s insignificance.” Macky didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. Instead of sounding intelligent, it sounded verbose and pretentious. Silly, even.

  The room darkened, or was that the flame dwindling on one of the candles? A cold breath caressed his ear. Macky shivered but continued to read. It didn’t take long before his eyes grew tired. The book’s point was unclear. He was trying to recite a foreign language in a tongue he didn’t have. The words were gobble-de-gook. He’d wanted to immerse himself in dark tales, forbidden knowledge, even a touch of madness.

  But it didn’t happen.

  He grabbed the bourbon, took a sip, and set it on the blotter. He leaned back in his chair.

  Far across the city, the hound bayed.

  And someone screamed.

  Chapter 2

  “Dev, I brewed some coffee. I must say, it is dee-licious. I thought we—”

  Millie trailed off and looked at Macky, who was sprawled out in his chair, feet up on the desk, The Necronomicon on his lap. It was open. A bottle of bourbon, a short glass (empty), and an ashtray were on the blotter. Macky had his hat down over his eyes.

  “Dev?”

  He stirred, dark stubble on his pale face. “Is that you, Mill? Coffee? You’re a plum.”

  “Dev, have you been here all night?” Millie said. “You didn’t go home?”

  “I guess not.” He rubbed his face, put his feet on the floor, and put the book on his desk. He took his hat off and set it beside it. The ashtray was filled with cigarette butts.

  “Oh, man!” he said, rubbing his head. “Did I have some crazy dreams! First, I was in the desert riding a camel. Then I was on some farm with some crazy farmer chasing me with a pitchfork. Some doozy-maroonies, if ever doozy-maroonies showed themselves in the construct of dreamland and made themselves presentable to the other dreamscapes. You gotta shake it before you bake it, Mill, you know what I mean?”

  She cocked her eyebrow. She was dressed in a green sweater with white stripes across the chest and arms. She wore pants again today, a thicker fabric for the cooler weather. Her hair was in a pin-up style with a green bow in the back. “Don’t tell me you were here reading that vile thing all night?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess I did.” He yawned, stretched, putting his hands over his head. He looked over, poured some bourbon into the glass, and downed it in one gulp. “Breakfast has been served.”

  “Dev, it’s eight o’clock in the morning!”

  “I know. I’m past due, right? But you’ll be glad to know I’m already feeling better.”

  “You’re spooking me.” She handed him a cup of coffee.

  “Thanks, Mill. Your plum-ness isn’t going unnoticed. I’ve put in a good word for you about a raise to the boss of this fine edifice. It’s in the process of evaluation.”

  “Did you say plumpness?”

  “Plum. Plumness. Goodness. Peachiness. Oh, man, my head hurts. I guess I slept here all night, huh?”

  “I can’t believe you’ve been here all night with that vile thing?”

  “You said that already. I can’t give you a different answer, but yes. And it wasn’t so vile. Kinda disappointing.”

  She tapped her feet. Her arms were crossed. She narrowed her eyes.

  “Mill, you look genuinely scared. It’s just a silly book. Supposed to summon demons or something. All it did was summon my exhaustion. Never been so bored in my life. I don’t understand how people like to read. Puts me to sleep. Sigils everywhere.”

  “Sigils?”

  “Yeah. Kinda like in the book. I recognize a few of them from the shop.”

  “The man had sigils in his shop?”

  “Sigils in the Shop. That would make a good song title, Mill. “I-got-sigils-in-the-shop. I-got-sigils-in-the-shop. I-got-sigils-in-the-shop-that-go . . . bop-bop-bop! Oh, man, that hurts my noggin.”

  “Stop doing that!”

  “Try not to shout, Mill. It must’ve been the full moon and all that fog. I had a few drinks before seeing the bookshop. Maybe that had something to do with it.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “I just said I did. Why do you have to contradict me all the time?”

  “You walked right into it. I mean, right into it.”

  “Right into what? Mill, you’re overreacting. Like always.”

  “I want you to take me to that bookstore, so we can get rid of that thing. I want you to give it back to the guy before anything weird happens.”

  “Nothing’s changed. I’m just sitting here having an early snort, and you’re making it out like World War Three.”

  “So help me, Dev, if you’ve opened some evil gateway . . . I want you to take that thing back right now!”

  Macky yawned. “Mill, it’s eight o’clock in the morning. I haven’t even showered, had any coffee, and you’re hounding me. Speaking of hounds, did you hear anything last night?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like the baying of a hound? Didn’t I just say that?”

  She frowned. “No. What are you talking about? A hound?”

  “Nothing. Maybe I imagined it.”

  “You’re driving me crazy!”

  “I’m not having any fun, either. This conversation is driving me crazy. I need a drink.” He poured another drink in the short glass and downed it. He winced. “Okay, that’s a little better. I can see more clearly. My brain is functioning.”

  Millie sighed. It was a long, exasperated sigh. “I want to kill you right now.”

  “I could do with a hammer blow myself. Put me out of my misery.”

  “How much of that book did you read?” she asked.

  “I read a few incantations out loud, but I couldn’t understand the words, let alone how to pronounce them.”

  “You read the incantations out loud?”

  “Should I not have done that?”

  Millie balled her hands into fists and all but screamed at the ceiling. She looked at him with a mixture of anger and horror. “It’s my fault,” she said. “I shouldn’t have left you alone with it.”

  “You’re making too much of it. What could possibly happen?”

  Millie looked at him for a long time. “Come on, we’re taking that thing back.”

  “Let me have a cup of coffee first. I think I’ve earned that.”

  “Earned what?”

  “I’m tryi
ng to get the glue out of my eyes. Let me brush my teeth, too.”

  “I’ll allow that.”

  “I got that book for you because I thought you would like it,” Macky said in his defense. “It was a gift. Get it? Like I was thinking about you. And how much you liked books.”

  She folded her arms. “I don’t like that thing. It’s vile. It’s monstrous. It’s evil.”

  “That’s the last time I try and surprise you with anything. Pitched my soul just to make you happy. You know, I can’t always afford to pay you, but you’re such a loyal trooper, I try to do what I can.”

  “I’m flattered. Can we go now?”

  “Let me have a drink first.”

  “You’ve had two already!”

  “It was a bad nightmare. I got the chills. This will help me warm up. That guy that was chasing me with the pitchfork was really scary. Besides, you’ll like me better.”

  “I don’t even like you a little.”

  “Yeah, but the drink will change all that.”

  —

  “Let’s see,” Macky said, putting a finger to his chin. “I know that place was around here somewhere.”

  It was a cloudy, breezy, October morning. The day was underway with traffic and passersby. Autumn leaves tumbled down the streets from nearby maple and elm trees. Macky and Millie were standing on Lincoln Avenue where a row of businesses lined the block.

  “I know Lincoln Avenue pretty well, Dev, and I can’t remember a bookstore being here. Are you sure we’re on the right street?”

  “Positive. I think. Yeah, I’m pretty sure we’re on the right street. I wasn’t in my soberest mindset?”

  “It’s an ongoing theme, even if I am getting bored with it.”

  “If I resurrected some cosmic horror from the depths of the ancient tome, I’m sure I’ll be forgiven. I mean, it was an accident.”

  “I think you’re taking this too lightly.”

  Macky shrugged. “I don’t get emotionally involved in my work. That’s why I’m good at what I do. I have to see things from a more objective point of view. That’s why our side always wins.”

  “What’s your point of view telling you about the bookstore?”

  He looked up and down the block again and frowned. “Maybe I’m on the wrong street.”

  Millie sighed.

  “Just let me state, for the record,” Macky said, “that this doesn’t necessarily mean anything. There might not be any validity to it. Which makes me think you’re making more out of this than I am.”

  “Dev?”

  “You want to gouge out my eyes with your fingernails?”

  “You’re finally getting to know me,” Millie said.

  “You play hardball. I should’ve seen that coming.”

  They looked up and down the street. There was no bookstore.

  “Huh,” he said, rubbing his chin.

  “There’s no bookshop on this block, Dev.”

  “Maybe the lease was up. That happens occasionally, doesn’t it?”

  “The lease was up when you visited last night and they moved by morning? Is that what you’re saying.”

  “That happens, doesn’t it?”

  “Dev, Dev, Dev.”

  “There’s the hat store, Top of My Pate,” Macky said, pointing. “I remember that. So, this is definitely the block.”

  The coupe was parked down the street. The wind started to blow. October was getting colder. The sky was a solid, overcast gray, making everything gloomy, moody, and somber.

  Macky had the book under his arm. “What else do you know about this thing, Mill?” he asked.

  “Middle Eastern Occultism,” she said. “The myths and legends of H.P. Lovecraft, most of which have proven to be true.”

  “An unfortunate thing, to be precise.”

  “It all goes back several centuries,” Millie said. “A Latin version of the text exists somewhere, first mentioned in Spain, about fourteen hundred, I think. I could be wrong. I know the thing is evil and has lots of bad history attached to it. And here you are with your very own copy. Lucky dog.”

  “I do get lucky on occasion,” Macky said.

  “I think there are forces at work in Innsport, Dev.”

  “Again?”

  “This poor city. It’s a pitstop for cosmic, ancient evil. And slow-witted private eyes.”

  “You’re hitting me in tender spots, Mill. Let me remind you for the umpteenth time, I was just trying to do something nice.”

  “You can just take me out for a hamburger next time,” she said.

  “That sounds good. I haven’t eaten anything but bourbon.”

  “You don’t eat anything but bourbon.”

  “Tender again, Mill.”

  They walked a ways, and Macky looked up and down the block as if the store were going to materialize out of nowhere.

  “I think we’ve come out all right so far,” he said.

  “Where is this place?”

  “If my calculations are correct, and they usually are, the little bookshop from Rhode Island should be right about—here!”

  Macky stopped and turned to the line of businesses along the street, the shops, and awnings. The lampposts were at their back. Some of the shops were open, being nine in the morning.

  Rhode Island Books was gone.

  “Great,” Millie said. “Just great, Dev. The best P.I. work I’ve ever seen.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve done a great job at deducing as well.”

  “I was being sarcastic.”

  “Regardless.” Macky paused. He looked around. “It was here, Mill. Honest.”

  Whatever it was, was no longer there. Eerily, where the store should’ve been was a small empty space with a For Lease sign in the window. Macky went up to the glass and peered inside.

  “Looks like he moved,” he said. “See, it does happen.”

  “Overnight?”

  “Maybe his lease was up, like I said.”

  “Maybe there was no lease. Maybe the whole thing was your blasted imagination, or whatever spooks the city—or this Abdul character used to dupe you into taking that wretched thing. Might I say, ‘Mission accomplished.’”

  “There is that, too,” Macky agreed.

  “Do you realize what this means?”

  “I’m a tad short of clarity this morning, Mill. Enlighten me.”

  “It means you were tricked, duped, and bamboozled.”

  “You’re trying to make me feel stupid with big words again, aren’t you?”

  “Because you read from that vile thing, you probably opened a doorway, releasing some cosmic, ancient horror upon our poor, defenseless city.”

  “But we don’t have any proof. Not yet. Maybe Amelia will give me a good trade for it.”

  “No! She’s innocent enough without adding a bunch of unnecessary horror to her life.”

  Macky had met Amelia when trying to track down several missing people thanks to some business a couple of years ago. She was a stutterer who was married to Newt Bardhoff, a lieutenant of the Innsport Police Department.

  “Here we go again!” Millie said.

  “You’re repeating yourself, Mill.” He was still staring through the window.

  “It’s only a matter of time,” he said. “I can feel the dark forces at work.”

  “Sure. With an attitude like that, I’d want to open a dark portal, too.”

  —

  “I think this might be a good time to sit down, have some coffee, and think about things. Just because Rhode Island Books is no longer where it used to be, doesn’t mean anything. We can agree on that, right?”

  Millie had her hands in the pockets of her coat. The wrinkle above her nose stood out.

  “Your look tells me I might be underestimating the gravity of the situation. Which is funny if you think about it because I don’t think that has anything to do with it. Not really. Don’t you think that’s funny, Mill?”

  She’d turned into a robot. She didn’t say
anything. She didn’t blink.

  “Millie?”

  Millie just stared.

  “Mill, can you at least say something? Anything. Blink. Yes or no. Two for no. Five for yes. That’ll get the point across.”

  She shook her head. A tiny sigh escaped her throat. He’d never seen her at a loss for words before. It worried him.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” she finally said.

  “But nothing’s really happening, Mill. It’s possible the bookshop is on another street, and I am not thinking clearly. That Abdul guy is probably a few blocks over. I don’t always remember things correctly, you know?”

  “The guy’s name was, Abdul Alhazred,” Millie said. “Rhode Island Books only makes sense if it were in Rhode Island, Dev. And we’re not in Rhode Island. We’re in Innsport. Rhode Island is where H.P. Lovecraft was born and buried. This whole thing has mess written all over it. And now you’re creepy store is gone.”

  “I was searching for a simpler explanation.”

  “That man tricked you, Dev. He’s the author of that vile thing, and to make matters worse, he’s a complete lunatic. Mad, Dev. Crazy. As in, belongs in an insane asylum.”

  “So, he’s nutty?”

  “Yes. And he probably wants to let loose a horde of demons on the city. His search for black knowledge had to do with the Outer Gods, Outer Darkness. Cosmic horrors.”

  “Why would anyone want to do that?”

  “Because he’s a nut.”

  “Crazy people have odd motivations.”

  “You’re exhausting.”

  “I think this would be better discussed in a quaint coffee shop over a danish. Maybe some pumpkin bread for the season.”

  “You’re buying,” Millie said.

  —

  The place they went was on the corner of 182nd Street and Madison called, Dreams in the Coffee House, which Macky thought was finally a unique name for something. He was drinking black coffee with sugar and cream. Millie was having an English Breakfast tea. They were sitting at a small table in the corner with dark wood walls and plenty of windows. A light jazz piano was on a Vectra radio. Millie was picking demurely at a piece of pumpkin bread with chocolate chips. The Necronomicon was on Macky’s lap. Millie didn’t want to look at the thing while she was drinking tea and eating. The wind was blowing harder outside. Leaves tumbled and blew down the street.