Chapter 4
Partners in Deceit
Leonard Shelvin was working late. He sat alone in his office in the Chase Museum building, tapping away at his computer. He was the museum’s executive financial officer, a lofty title that conjured up the image of a huge corporate staff.
The reality was, that including him; there were only two other “executive managers” that ran the small operation. They included a curator (who performed at least three other functions.) and Richard Chase, the museum’s owner.
This evening, he was supposedly looking over the financial reports to see what expenses could be moved around to keep everything afloat. He had told Richard Chase he would see what he could do to minimize the financial hemorrhaging that was now taking place. After all, that was another of his jobs: pulling a rabbit out his hat whenever there were money problems. Richard trusted him in that capacity.
In a perverse way, this trust was not misplaced. After all, Shelvin was good at his job. In fact, he was a near genius at managing budgets sheets and expense reports, a wizard at finding tax shelters.
But above all, he was brilliant at embezzling. He had stashed away a tidy sum over the years, enough to enjoy a high standard of living when the day came. Every penny had come from the Chase Museum. His bleeding of the business had gone unnoticed over the years. As the bottom line dipped and rose, Richard had logically attributed the seesawing profits to other factors, such as competition, inflation, the ‘89 quake, you name it. And it had all been plausible, because within each of Shelvin’s manufactured excuses was a kernel of truth.
The money he had squeezed out had been nothing impressive in the beginning. But after Shelvin had washed and dried it, the funds went into other investments that had produced a high rate of return. Within ten years, he had quadrupled his “starting capital”, most of which was now taking up residence in one or two offshore accounts.
His intention had been to cover his tracks completely, what with all the people looking closely at the balance sheets these days.
But all that had been before the new business arrangement he had brokered. Now, as a major storm erupted outside his office window, he realized that this new deal was about to close, and it would render all of his previous affairs obsolete.
Yet, he went through the motions anyway. Number crunching was in his blood, after all.
By the time he finished, there was a knock at his office door.
“Come in,” he said excitedly.
A tall, angular woman appeared in the entrance.
“What’s a nice vixen like you doing out on a night like this?”
Rachel smiled, although it did nothing to brighten her expression. “I’m glad I’m not marrying you for your wit.”
He stood from his desk and kissed her. For this maneuver to succeed, his fiancé had to bend low.
“Did you-----finish the business we discussed?”
He pushed his glasses up with a forefinger. “Done.” He caressed her buttocks with a sweaty hand. “Just like you wanted. How about you?”
She stepped away. “I am now officially divorced.” She tried to prop up a faltering smirk. “Michael can kiss his family business goodbye. The museum’s finished.” She patted the computer screen as though it were a pet. “And thanks to you, we have a cushion to land on, once we leave.”
“I have to admit, replacing the Bastet artifact with a forgery was a stroke of genius.” He told her, admiringly.
“Well, they asked for it. I mean, using in house people to authenticate something like that? Easy enough to discredit with a little creativity.”
It had been a match made in heaven. Or so she had led Leonard Shelvin to believe. Rachel was a business consultant, a successful one until the economy had tanked. During the divorce, she had gained access, through her own means, to the museum’s financial records. It had taken less than a New York minute to see that Shelvin was cooking the books. Instead of exposing him, her anger and hatred had led her to cut a bargain with the little worm, in exchange for his help in discrediting the museum. She had even gone as far as making him think she would marry him afterward. Shelvin was left with visions of a Bonnie and Clyde team, living out their days in Switzerland or someplace as they spent their misbegotten bounty.
She allowed him this fantasy. For the time being, it suited her purposes. He would soon enjoy a rude awakening, but she would deal with that when the time came.
Her pain over the abortion had threatened to destroy her. So she gave into a part of herself that was dark and cruel, in a desperate bid to find strength. In doing so, she had opened the cage and given her Hyde personality carte blanche to get the job done by any means necessary.
Up until today, that had worked just fine. She had filled up her time with schemes of retribution and the goal of crushing out Michael’s future. All of it had helped to keep her sorrow at bay. There was comfort in knowing that someone else was to blame for her misery. Punishing that person had given her purpose again.
But some of that had unraveled when she saw him today.
There he was again, in her mind’s eye, alone in the therapy ward. After stomping away, she had stood out of sight, fighting back the desire to return. She watched him, sitting there, clearly restraining the urge to weep. He had looked so lost in that moment, so hurt…
She ground her teeth against the memory. Dammit, why the hell had she given in to the impulse to see him in person? She had been doing so well until then.
“And once I get rid of the real Bastet artifact, we can-----“
Rachel’s face turned into a scowl. Her ears had just caught up with Shelvin’s last remark. She was almost grateful to be jolted out of her conflicting thoughts. “What are you talking about? You mean you still have the Bastet artifact?”
“Look,” He began nervously.
“Where IS it?” both of her large hands were now upon her hips.
“Just hold on.” He replied defensively. “I had to hide it here until it was safe to be moved.” He tapped the top of his desk. “It’s right here, in a false compartment.”
She stumbled away from his desk as though it were on fire. “You had that piece of incriminating evidence here in your office the whole time? God, how STUPID are you?”
Something happened to Shelvin’s eyes. He looked at her with a glassy, dead stare. “Don’t call me names.” He said shakily. “I’ve never liked it when people call me names. Say other stuff, just don’t call me things.”
She wanted very badly to laugh at him. He sounded like a small boy and not at all like the decisive crook who had coldly helped her ruin the Chase Museum.
But this new side to Leonard wasn’t funny. He had almost become someone else just now. Not just a child-----a disturbed child.
Her instincts for self-preservation quickly informed her to ease off, then re-evaluate later.
“Okay,” She said in a softer tone. “Just get rid of it, alright? It’s dangerous.” Her own choice of words struck her as funny. She hadn’t said
It’s dangerous to have it here. She had said,
IT’S dangerous. Even funnier, this idea resonated with truth. She just couldn’t explain why.
Shelvin continued to stare at nothing with that same glassy look, as if he were a mannequin. “I don’t like how you talk to me sometimes.” He protested quietly. “You act like you’re the…well…you know?”
She took his hand and led him to his feet. “Like I’m the man? Is that what you mean?”
He removed his glasses and began cleaning them on a handkerchief. “You know, we’re doing this together. You and me. We’re partners. We’re gonna be husband and wife pretty soon.”
She restrained a shudder. “Leonard, please don’t tell me that you’re like all the rest of those adolescent boys out there-----the ones who wet themselves every time a strong woman begins making a mark.”
Shelvin returned the glasses to his nose. He looked at her with restored confidence. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know I’m not a chauvinist, or whatever.”
Rachel smiled for the sole purpose of testing his mood. When he smiled back, she knew he was himself again. She didn’t relish his normal personality, but at least she knew how to deal with it. “Come on, what do you say we get rid of that cat artifact and get out of Dodge?”
Lightning went off like a flash bulb, nearly blinding them. The stark illumination stretched out their shadows to the far wall. Thunder came a second later, a long rumbling noise, as if a ghostly freight train were racing over the roof.
Someone outside screamed. The noise came from very far away. It was the long wail of someone in the throes of either great terror or unbearable agony.
Or both.
They listened to the shriek rise and fall over the pounding rain, until finally it died away.
Rachel moved hesitantly towards the window. “Leonard, what do you think is going on out there?”
“What do you mean?”
She hugged herself, something she hadn’t done since she was a child. “This weird storm. The way things have started looking different…”
Leonard seemed oddly impassive. “It’s just a storm, Rachel.”
And that was the short answer, of course. But it wasn’t just the storm. The storm seemed a symptom of something bigger-----some kind of change that nature found objectionable.
“Tell you what,” She said, “let’s get out of this place. I’m not ga-ga about black, empty buildings.”
Shelvin compressed his lips into a razor-thin smile. “Sure, sure. But do you mind if I show you something first?”
She sighed, weighing the pros and cons of disappointing him-----particularly since he had on his puppy dog face. They needed to get rid of the Bastet artifact soon, before more people arrived to set up for tomorrow’s reopening. She wasn’t keen on the idea of lingering for show and tell. She decided to acquiesce, but with a condition.
“Whatever it is, you’ve got five minutes. We really need to get going.”
“You’ve got it.” He said quickly. “Follow me.” Shelvin walked out of his office door.
But Rachel didn’t move. “We’re not going into the museum are we?”
He reappeared in the doorway. “Of course. The guards know I’m here working late. The alarms are disabled-----at least the interior ones. We won’t get arrested if that’s what you think.”
But that wasn’t what she thought. She was thinking about wandering around in a dark, vacant museum in the middle of the night with a volatile thunderstorm for company. The prospect was hardly a charming one.
She glanced at her watch, wavering on a decision. She supposed there would still be time. Besides, she had already more or less committed.
“At least turn on some damn lights.” She ordered, following him out of the office.
It wasn’t long after that they both found themselves in the Egyptian Wing of the building. Before them stood a six-foot high representation of what Rachel assumed was an Egyptian god from long ago. The plaque below said it was “Seth” or “Set” or something. The figure had the standard headpiece and staff.
“So what do you think?” Shelvin inquired with a melodramatic waive of his hand.
She looked between him and the display. “Am I missing something?” The “statue” wasn’t even an authentic artifact. It was a plaster replica that was nothing more than Egyptian window dressing.
He glared at her with bare contempt. “You’ve missed a lot. But I, on the other hand, don’t miss a thing.” He looked back at the display, his mood shifting to that of a lovesick teenager. “You might say that I’ve been working on a side deal.” He winked at her the way a sociopath might wink at someone he was about to kill. “You’re going to be included, just not the way you might expect.”
Rachel let out a suffering exhale. “C’mon Leonard, I don’t have time for this crap. Neither do you. We have to-----“
“Did you really think I wouldn’t know, you disloyal whore?”
Her jaw dropped open.
Shelvin was now projecting an aura of viciousness that made her heart falter. It was then and there, that an epiphany came to her. She knew, somehow, that what she was standing before was a darkness many degrees beyond anything she harbored in her soul. This man, this creepy little man, was a conduit for a hatred that made Rachel’s look like a dim echo.
He continued to leer at her, his jaw muscles bouncing in fury. “What? You didn’t think I would find out? You’re using me, I know that. Even after everything I’ve done for you.” He held up an index finger. “But now we’re going to see who uses whom.”
Thunder split open the sky. She flinched. To her, it had seemed more like an explosion than a thunderclap. The entire building rattled with its intensity.
“Leonard, I don’t know what idiot idea you’re fixated on, but I’ve had enough. As far as who is using who here, we’re both getting something out of this.” She ignored the true meaning behind his accusation-----the idea that their engagement was a sham. “I’m leaving.” She put as much authority as she could muster into this indignant statement.
That was when it began.
At the foot of the display a large snake was suddenly writhing at her feet.
Startled, she jumped back. She wasn’t afraid of snakes per say, but it was certainly prudent to keep out of its reach. It might be poisonous, after all.
“Leonard, watch out!” She exclaimed, for he hadn’t moved. He only slid his lovesick expression from the statue to the creature below him.
Rachel’s eyes jumped between Leonard and the snake. The reptile was now coiling around his shoes, almost as if it were caressing him with affection.
She was evaluating how to safely yank him away, when the second snake appeared. It had come from nowhere. She looked around, franticly trying to see if there was a hole in the ceiling or the floor. But she saw no discernable point of entry.
Then a third snake materialized.
And a fourth.
And a fifth.
Each time her eyes darted in one direction, a new snake appeared within her peripheral vision.
There was now a small mountain of snakes piled around Shelvin and the statue. He was knee deep in them. And the squirming pile of serpents was growing before her astonished eyes.
Rachel lurched forward, willing her long legs into action. But the pile of reptiles had now grown so large; she was cut off from the exit. She was trapped. Her only way out was through a literal snake’s nest.
The nest now filled the entire hallway and was spreading towards her as the creatures multiplied. It was at least six feet high and still expanding. Shelvin was already buried within its midst.
“Help!!” She screamed. She clawed for her purse and the cell phone within it. But there was nothing there. Her eyes bulged upon remembering she had left her purse in Shelvin’s office.
“HELLPP!!” She screamed again, this time thinking of the museum’s elusive security guards.
And now the avalanche of creatures was rolling towards her as if a single organism. There was a blur. Two cylindrical objects leaped out of the mound and ensnared her arms. She gasped in shock. The things that had wrapped around her were massive reptilian bodies. They were so thick and muscularly, her outraged mind at first mistook them for elephant trunks.
She got the chance to jerk her body just once, trying desperately to free herself.
It was impossible. Her arms were being held with such force they might have been cemented to a concrete wall.
Rachel cried out as she was yanked off her feet.
She disappeared within the depths of the tangle, yelling and kicking. She couldn’t see or breathe for long moments. Twitching, shuddering reptiles pressed against her face, hissed in her ears. She felt them tangle in her hair. They wormed through her clothing. The smell of snakeskin was smothering, overpowering. She gagged violently.
Utter panic and helplessness consumed her, reducing her to a small girl. “Michael,” She whimpered. “Help me---!”
But it wasn’t her ex-husband’s face that appeared before her. It was Leonard Shelvin’s.
Her mind teetered as a new and horrific understanding dawned; the things that held her tightly, that had pulled her into this den of monsters, was non other than Leonard Shelvin’s arms-----arms that were now serpentine bodies, squeezing her with terrible pressure.
He was no longer human. At least, not entirely.
His half-human head gibbered at her. He opened his mouth and a forked tongue wiggled out to explore her face, even as she howled with revulsion.
“Rachel…” He gurgled through scaly lips, “You will complete me, my darling.”
Only then did she surrender to madness.
