Episode 2 | The Ritual of Thoth - scene 4

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The LAPD has an unusual guest

It is just before noon when Ronnie arrives back at the station from Helen Morcombe's autopsy. There is some sort of commotion going on. The phones are ringing, everyone is shouting, and she sees Mona Reynolds, that reporter from the Los Angeles Times getting ushered out by a frazzled looking station Chief.

"So- what the fuck has been going on here?"

"They found one of the missing girls," says a desk cop, his hand covering the mouthpiece of the phone he is talking on.

"Yeah, Bradford found her. Where the fuck have you been Dupree?" The Chief barges past her on the way back to his office.

"I was just following up on something I-" she tries to explain before he cuts her off.

"Never mind, just interview the girl would you,"

Ronnie looks around at the room full of station cops and detectives, who are all eyeing her with nervous anticipation. She turns back to the Chief. "So, let me get this straight. You want me to interview the missing girl, by myself?"

"Yes! Do you need a written instruction?" The Chief slams his office door shut.

"What? Wait-" begins Ronnie confused. "Where's the girl now?"

"In one of the holding cells," confirms Bradford.

"Why the fuck would you put her in there?"

"You'll see," Rod, the Mustang driver. He strokes his moustache, a tease in his smile.

Ronnie shakes her head resolutely and makes her way to the holding cells, a portable tape recorder in her hand. Her boots click on the polished linoleum of the hall and she can feel the eyes of the rest of the station boring into the back of her neck. Two uniformed cops are on guard and both nod to her, stone-faced. In the cell, in the middle of the floor sits the girl.

"Hello, Miss-" Ronnie glances at the file, "-Jaxon. Can I call you Lorraine?" The girl doesn't respond. Her straggly brown hair hangs down concealing her face, her arms and legs are smeared with dirt and she reeks to high heaven. "Listen honey, I'm here to help. My name is detective Dupree, but you can call me Ronnie." The girl suddenly lunges toward Ronnie, snapping and snarling like a rabid animal through the bars.

"Jesus!" Ronnie jumps back.

"Yeah, I know right?" sympathises one of the guards, "She bit Frank Katz' finger to the bone this morning- that's why she's in there. I'd stay well back Detective."

"Okay." She takes a few deep breaths "Okay then." It's not often Ronnie is shaken, but she felt well out of her depth here. "I'm, just gonna make a call."

Ronnie goes back to her cubicle, picks up the phone and dials a number from her notebook.

"Dr Grey? It's Detective Dupree. I'm going to have to ask you to come down to the station again - no, this isn't about Helen Morcombe - there is someone here, a young woman exhibiting strange behaviour and I could do with your expertise. I really can't explain it, but you need to see for yourself - you will? I'd appreciate that." Ronnie smiles grimly as she puts down the receiver. She knew Celia Grey would not be able to resist, she recognized the same hunger in the woman for seeking answers as herself.

In less than half an hour, Celia Grey is at the station. Her grey hair is piled in a messy bun and she wears a black turtleneck with a heavy jade pendant. She feigns annoyance at being called up, but the outwardly frosty manner does a poor job of disguising her shiny-eyed enthusiasm.

"Detective Dupree, I didn't expect to be seeing you so soon."

"The feeling is mutual," Ronnie is all business. "Look, I need you to assess a girl we picked up this morning who has been missing for the last two months. She's obviously suffered some sort of mental trauma, but there's something else wrong with her behaviour."

"What exactly do you mean?"

"I'm not sure that I know. I was hoping you could look at her and tell us what you think."

"Well then, you'd better lead the way." Celia follows Ronnie down the hallway to the holding cells. Lorraine Jaxon is more or less in the same position that Ronnie encountered earlier. The smell is putrid, and the girl has wet herself. Dark urine is pooled around her shoes.

"Johnson, couldn't someone clean her up for Christ's sake?" Ronnie addresses the cop on guard to the left.

"We're just waiting for a female officer to become available, ma'am," Johnson says officiously.

"Oh yeah, I forgot what a dick-fest it is around here!"

Celia gives her a sympathetic look, before remarking, "I hear you, sister."

"I'm not your sister," Ronnie says darkly. Celia's eyes narrow at the rebuff, and then she turns her attention to the girl, observing her in silence.

"Have you ever seen anything like it before," asks Ronnie.

"Unfortunately, I have seen this before."

"You mean Joanie Morcombe?" Ronnie doesn't miss a beat.

Celia flinches, but then recovers quickly. "You know very well detective, that I am bound by confidentiality."

"Well, what if you were subpoenaed?"

"On a closed case, I don't think so."

The two women stare each other down for a moment and then Ronnie continues, "Well, do you think you can you shed any light on what's wrong with her."

Celia sighs, "I'm afraid it's as I feared, she is suffering from a type of hysteria and possibly a personality disassociation disorder. I seem to have come across this a lot lately. All young women, all with similar symptoms. Some of them even babbling about the devil."

"So – this girl and Joanie Morcombe are connected."

"No, I didn't say they were connected, they are most certainly not. I merely said that there has been a lot of this type of phenomenon lately, but each case has its own unique origins."

"Dr Grey, I would really appreciate it if you could give me some more information."

"Well, I really don't know what more I can tell you."

"Well, something - or someone must have triggered this."

"I'd like you to bring her to my office when you've finished your paperwork. I will try putting her under hypnosis, see if I can reach her."

"Can't you do something now?"

"I really don't think this type of environment is conducive for conducting a hypnosis session."

"Well couldn't you at least try?"

Celia bows her head and relents. "Alright then. I'll do my best." She takes the pendant from around her neck and holds it up like a pendulum as she speaks to the girl in calming tones. "Honey, I want you to relax and just watch the pendant, feel yourself getting sleepier." The girl's eyes dart back and forth with the motion of the swinging pendant. "Good girl, that's it - just relax. I want you to focus only on my voice and keep watching the pendant as you drift away."

"Is it working?"

Celia holds up a finger to silence Ronnie, not breaking her concentration on the girl. "Now I want to talk to the person inside this body. The real Lorraine, can you hear me?"

The girl starts to hyperventilate alarmingly, the vertebrae in her neck crack loudly as her head twists, and she speaks in a voice which is the perfect mimic of Beth Epstein. "You've forgotten all about the cause haven't you Celia, now that you've gone Hollywood." Celia Grey jumps back in shock and the pendant falls from her fingers. The girl cackles at the effect her words have, then she focuses her attention on Ronnie. In a deep otherworldly voice, she says "Why do you always have to go poking around in places you shouldn't Detective, isn't that what got your partner killed?"

Ronnie is frozen on the spot, and not taking her eyes away from the girl she asks quietly "What sort of bull-shit have you been feeding her Johnson?"

"Nothing Detective, I swear! We had strict instructions not to converse with her!"

"I-I don't think this is something we should tackle here," Celia pulls on Ronnie's arm gently to coax her away from the bars and the sneering face of the girl. "I think she is better off in an infirmary where she can be properly monitored. Would you allow me make the arrangements?"

Ronnie stares at the girl, she searches the eyes for a hint of humanity but sees only madness and something else perhaps, something more sinister.

"Detective?" Ronnie is still locked in the girl's gaze, so Celia shouts, "Detective Dupree!"

"Yeah, make the arrangements. Put the bitch away!"

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