The Mephisto Club

first floor.
    O’Donnell’s eyes were still awake, staring. Her lips moved faster now, and her fingers tightened to a claw. Outside, the siren’s wail drew closer, but in this room, the only sounds were the gurgling breaths of the dying woman.
    “Stay with me, Joyce!” urged Maura. “I know you can hold on!”
    O’Donnell tugged at Maura’s wrist, panicked jerks that threatened to wrench Maura’s hand from the wound. With each gasp, bright droplets sprayed from her throat in explosive bursts. Her eyes widened, as though glimpsing the darkness yawning before her.
No,
she mouthed.
No.
    At that instant, Maura realized the woman was no longer looking at her, but at something
behind
her. Only then did she hear the creak of the floorboard.
    Her attacker never left the house. He’s still here. In this room.
    She turned just as the blow rushed toward her. She saw darkness swoop at her like bat’s wings, and then she went sprawling. Her face slammed to the floor and she lay stunned, her vision black. But she could feel, transmitted through the boards, the thud of escaping footsteps, like the heartbeat of the house itself, pulsing against her cheek. Pain throbbed its way into her head and grew to a steady hammering that seemed to pound nails into her skull.
    She did not hear Joyce O’Donnell take her last breath.
    A hand grasped her shoulder. In sudden panic she flailed, fighting for her life, swinging blindly at her attacker.
    “Maura, stop. Maura!”
    Her hands now trapped in his, she managed only a few weak struggles. Then her vision cleared and she saw Sansone staring at her. She heard other voices and glimpsed the metallic sheen of a stretcher. Turning, she focused on two paramedics who were crouched over Joyce O’Donnell’s body.
    “I’m not getting a pulse. No respirations.”
    “This IV’s wide open.”
    “Jesus, look at all the blood.”
    “How’s the other lady doing?” The paramedic looked at Maura.
    Sansone said, “She seems okay. I think she just fainted.”
    “No,” whispered Maura. She grabbed his arm. “He was here.”
    “What?”
    “He was still
here.
In the room!”
    Suddenly he realized what she was saying, and he reared back with a look of shock and scrambled to his feet.
    “No—wait for the police!”
    But Sansone was already out the door.
    She struggled to sit up and swayed, her vision watery and threatening to go gray. When at last the room brightened, she saw two paramedics kneeling in Joyce O’Donnell’s blood, their equipment and discarded packaging splayed out around them. An EKG traced across the oscilloscope.
    It was a flat line.
             
    Jane slid into the backseat of the cruiser beside Maura and pulled the door shut. That one brief
whoosh
of cold air swept all the heat from the vehicle and Maura began to shake again.
    “You sure you’re feeling okay?” said Jane. “Maybe we should take you to the ER.”
    “I want to go home,” said Maura. “Can’t I go home now?”
    “Is there anything else you remember? Any other details that are coming back to you?”
    “I told you, I didn’t see a face.”
    “Just his black clothes.”
    “Black
something.
”
    “Something? Are we talking man or beast here?”
    “It all happened so fast.”
    “Anthony Sansone’s wearing black.”
    “It wasn’t him. He left the room. He went down to meet the ambulance.”
    “Yeah, that’s what he says, too.”
    Jane’s face was silhouetted against the lights of the cruisers parked across the street. The usual convoy of official vehicles had arrived, and crime-scene tape now fluttered between stakes planted in the front yard. Maura had sat in this vehicle for so long, the blood on her coat had dried, turning the fabric stiff as parchment. She would have to throw out this coat; she never wanted to wear it again.
    She looked at the house, where all the lights were now blazing. “The doors were locked when we got here. How did he get in?”
    “There’s no sign of forced entry. Just that broken kitchen window.”
    “We had to break it. We saw blood in the sink.”
    “And Sansone was with you the whole time?”
    “We were together all evening, Jane.”
    “Except when he gave chase. He claims he didn’t see anyone outside. And he churned up the snow pretty good when he went searching around outside the house. Screwed up any shoe prints we might have been able to use.”
    “He’s not a suspect in this.”
    “I’m not saying he is.”
    Maura paused, suddenly