The Medusa Ritual
A Pierce Mostyn Paranormal Investigation
by
CW Hawes
While clues are being gathered to find the both the mysterious book and Dr Dotty Kemper, we discover that Dotty is being held prisoner and experiencing luxury reserved for kings and queens. Which, Dotty admits, is very nice. But she wants to go home and initiates her own plan to escape.
Read on! The adventure continues!
Chapter 13
While Jones and Hammerschmidt were at the Chinese Catholic Church. NicAskill and Dr Petrie were talking to shop owners on the south end of Chinatown.
“These people seem awfully tight-lipped, don’t you think?” Petrie said.
“They do at that,” NicAskill agreed. “I think they’re scared, and scared people aren’t going to talk unless they know there won’t be any repercussions from talking.”
“We’re telling them we’re the IRS. Can’t get much bigger or more powerful than that.”
“Perhaps, Dr Petrie, but we don’t live here. Once we’re gone, we’re gone. The people they’re afraid of will still be here.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Let’s change tactics.” NicAskill opened the shop door. “Just follow my lead.” And she walked in, Petrie behind her.
NicAskill walked up to the counter. The only other people in the shop looked to be tourists. Behind the counter was an old woman. NicAskill said, “Hi! Are you the owner?”
The old woman looked at NicAskill, her face blank, then turned and yelled a stream of words in a language that wasn’t English. In a moment, a young attractive woman pushed aside a bead curtain and stepped behind the counter.
“Hi! How may I help you?”
“We’re with Around the World Realty and we’re looking for the owner.”
“The owner?”
NicAskill smiled and nodded.
The young woman turned to the older woman and started speaking in whatever language it was they spoke. The old woman answered, and the young woman turned back to NicAskill.
“I’m sorry, but my grandmother doesn’t know who owns the building. All of the shop keepers have a lease with Golden Dragon Management Company. They handle everything.”
“Thank you,” NicAskill said. “Do you happen to have an address or phone number?”
The young woman turned to the old woman and said something. The old woman replied. The young woman turned back to NicAskill. “Excuse me. My grandmother thinks there’s a business card in the office. One moment, please.”
“Sure. Thank you,” NicAskill said.
The young woman disappeared behind the beaded curtain. NicAskill turned away and began looking at a tea set. Petrie picked up a vase and looked at the price tag on the bottom.
“What? They want two hundred and fifty for this? Outrageous.”
NicAskill cast a glance Petrie’s way. “It’s pretty.”
“Not for two-fifty it isn’t.”
The young woman returned, and NicAskill stepped back up to the counter. The young woman slid a sheet of paper over to NicAskill. “I made a copy of the card for you.”
NicAskill picked up the paper, thanked her, and headed for the door. Petrie was already out on the sidewalk.
When NicAskill was standing next to the doctor, Petrie asked, “Does it look legit?”
I don’t know,” NicAskill replied. “There’s one way to find out.” She took out her phone and dialed the number. After a moment, she put the phone away.
“Went straight to voicemail. We can set up a dummy return number and try again.”
“What about email?”
NicAskill looked at the copy of the card. “They have an email address. We’ll have to set up a dummy email account.”
“Now what?” Petrie asked.
“We keep doing what we’ve been doing. Let’s try the real estate ploy at that restaurant over there.”
NicAskill and Petrie crossed the street and entered the restaurant. A young woman smiled at them and asked if there were just the two of them.
“We’d like to speak to the owner, if possible,” NicAskill said.
The smile disappeared and a look of concern took over her face. “I hope there is no problem. The owner is not here. I am his daughter. Perhaps I can help?”
NicAskill said, “We’re with Around the World Real Estate and we’re prepared to make a good offer to buy the building.”
Relief replace concern and her smile returned.
“The building? My father does not own the building. We lease this space.”
“I see,” NicAskill said. “Do you know who does own the building?”
“No, I’m afraid not. We pay the Golden Dragon Management Company. That’s who our lease is with.”
NicAskill took out the photocopy and showed it to the woman. “Is this the company?”
“I think so. My dad is the one who mainly does the books and pays the bills. I help him sometimes. The address looks familiar.”
“Thank you. You’ve been most helpful.” NicAskill turned and left. Petrie followed.
Out on the sidewalk, Petrie said, “I bet Golden Dragon manages everything here.”
“Maybe not the banks, or the hospital,” NicAskill replied. “But for these small shops?” She shook her head. “I won’t wager against you.”
“Let’s try a few more,” Petrie said, “might as well see if there’s any competition.”
The two walked to a small store selling traditional Chinese medicine. The owner leased the space from Golden Dragon. The smoke shop next door leased their space from Golden Dragon as well. The next block, Golden Dragon was replaced by Black Lotus Management Company.
“Both companies have headquarters here in Los Angeles,” NicAskill observed. She took out her phone and did a search. “Rather odd, Winifred, there’s no website for either company. No reviews either.”
“That is odd. Especially in this day and age.”
“They’re not on social media, either. At least not the main platforms.”
“Very odd.”
“It’s as if they don’t want to advertise their presence.”
“Maybe they don’t need to. If they only do business in Chinatown.”
NicAskill looked skeptical. “Maybe. Still doesn’t seem normal.” She looked around. “Why don’t we…”
“What?”
NicAskill pointed, and Petrie followed her finger. Roiling and churning gray and black clouds were rolling in from the east, blotting out the blue sky.
“What is going on?” Petrie said. “I didn’t think we were supposed to get a storm.”
“We aren’t. Sunny and no rain.”
“Doesn’t look like it now.”
“Sure doesn’t.”
They watched the clouds cover the sky and then begin to rotate.
“Oh, my God,” Petrie said. “A tornado. I was in one once. It was the most terrifying thing in my life.”
And then out of the swirling vortex a funnel of cloud dropped down. A moment later, the rotating cone withdrew, and the roiling clouds cleared leaving blue sky and filmy white clouds in their wake.
“What was that?” Petrie asked.
“I don’t know. But Jones and Hammerschmidt are up there.” NicAskill took out her phone and called Jones. “Jonesy, are you alright?”
Jones told her about his conversation with the priest and the destruction of the offices after they left the church.
“Something weird is going on here,” NicAskill said. “Maybe we need to meet with the boss.”
Jones concurred and said he’d call Mostyn.
NicAskill pocketed her phone. To Petrie, she said, “Some weird shit is going on. We’re going back to the hotel and confer with the boss.”
“What kind of weird shit?”
“That tornado?”
Petrie nodded.
“It punched a hole in the roof of the Chinese Catholic Church and destroyed two offices. No sign of the priest or the secretary. And the priest had just told Jones and Hammerschmidt a very interesting story about the guy who might be our masked man.”
Chapter 14
Dr Dotty Kemper’s temper was on a very short fuse. She had no complaints about the suite her captor had put her in. It was luxurious beyond anything she could dream of. The food they’d given her was exquisite. The bed was beyond comfortable and the silk sheets were decadence itself. There was a bookcase filled with books. The towels in the bathroom were the plushest and softest she’d ever felt. There were chairs and couches that were just like how she dreamed it would feel to sit on a cloud. Nor did she have a complaint about the beautiful silk cheongsam dresses hanging in the closet.
She looked around the spacious suite. It was magnificent, but she was a prisoner and that pissed her off.
She grabbed the breakfast tray and hurled it at the enormous window overlooking the city. Tray, plate, bowls, and leftover food hit the window and fell to the floor.
“Not even a goddamn scratch. Must be that transparent aluminum shit.”
She picked up one of the dining table chairs and hurled it at the locked door. Yesterday, she’d destroyed three pillows, four vases, kicked one guard in the crotch, and decked a second one before she found herself staring at two pistols pointed towards her head. That calmed her for awhile.
“I should’ve had Helene teach me how to dematerialize. Then I would’ve been out of here faster than they could say chop suey.”
She threw herself on a chaise longue, and after a moment found herself rubbing her hand across the luxurious fabric.
“I’ve seen these in movies,” she said out loud. “Never knew people actually used them. Might have to get myself one. That is, if I ever get out of here.”
After a moment, she said, “And that’s beginning to look like a no go.”
She lay on her back, her knees up. “Houston, we have a problem. One lying sack of shit, who hides behind a mask.”
There was a knock on the door and it opened. Two men stepped in. Young Chinese men in black suits, white shirts, and black ties. A third man came in behind them, older, but also wearing a black suit, white shirt, and black tie.
Dotty stood and moved behind the chaise longue.
Following the three men, in walked the masked man. He was wearing the traditional men’s long gown in solid gold. The mask was also gold with a black beard and mustache painted on it. He walked with slow and deliberate steps. Behind him two young women carried a chair, which they set on the floor and in which the masked man sat. Dotty looked daggers at him.
The masked man spoke. His softly sibilant voice sounded ancient and ethereal. “I hear, Dr Kemper, that your accommodations do not please you.”
“They’re not mine.”
“That is true. The accommodations are not yours.” He paused, before continuing. “They could be yours, however.”
“They’re nice, but I prefer my own place. Thank you very much.”
A chuckle came from the mask. “Unfortunately for you, Dr Kemper, you will not be seeing your home again. However, I have a proposition for you. It is like those TV game shows. There are three doors. You pick a door and you get what is behind it. Unlike those shows, I will tell you what is behind each door.”
“Very generous of you.” Sarcasm dripped from Kemper’s words.
Once again a chuckle came from the mask. “Actually it is. Your first option is to marry my grandson. You will produce children. Lots of children.”
“I thought I was just supposed to be his plaything.”
“Nothing is static, Dr Kemper. I have a different plan now. So option number one for you is to marry my grandson.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You haven’t heard the other options.”
Dotty indicated with her hand he should continue.
“Option number two is that you will be the sacrifice which will enable me to open the gate allowing the Nameless One access to this dimension.”
Dotty shook her head. “Definitely not.”
“Very well. Behind our door number three is what I call the zuvembie option.”
“Which is?”
“Unlike the classic zuvembie, you won’t be a mindless creature that only lives to kill. However, you will definitely no longer be in control of your mind. I will control your mind. You will be my slave.”
“I don’t like that option either.”
The mask ignored her comment and continued. “You see, Dr Kemper, it has come to my attention people are looking for me. I do not fully understand who they are, or what resources they have available to them. What I do know is that they, and you, Dr Kemper, for I know you are one of them, pose a threat to me. To the hegemony of my empire.”
The masked man lifted his hands and shrugged. “Therefore, whoever you are, you all must be eliminated.”
“Why don’t you just pick my brain and then kill me?”
“I could. But then I would simply have information. I’d rather get full value from an asset such as yourself. So what is your decision, Dr Kemper? Door number one? Door number two? Or door number three?”
“I have to decide right now? Don’t I get some time to think this over?”
“Come now, Dr Kemper. From your perspective there really is only one choice. It is the first option. You keep your mind and you get to live in luxury for the rest of your life. However, if you want some time to think things over, so be it. You have five minutes. Start thinking.”
Dotty’s eyes went from the masked man to the the two women standing behind him, to the older man standing to one side, to the two men standing in front of where the masked man was sitting.
Five against one. Not very good odds. And then there was the Mask himself. He probably had a trick or two up his sleeves. She was not going to get out of this predicament alive. But she might die trying, and at this point that seemed to be her best option.
Door number four, she thought. And may the Force be with me.
Dotty walked around the chaise longue, placed the palms of her hands together, and bowed before the Mask. “I have made my decision.”
“Good. Let’s hear it.”
Dotty stood up and launched herself at the young man on her right. She gave him a round house kick to the head that sent him sprawling. She pivoted just in time to deliver a kick to the solar plexus of the other young man that saw him drop to the floor like a rock.
The young women charged. Dotty’s powerhouse punch sent the one woman flying.
Then there was a sharp pain and Dr Dotty Kemper’s world went black.
To Be Continued!
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