The Black Door Read Free

state police and, later, the F.B.I. But by noon the following day, there still wasn’t a trace of the girl. Well, San Jose is a morning paper, so I had all of that day to get a story together. I had a good thing going with the chief of detectives, and he gave me a rundown on the progress of the investigation. Actually, it was pretty simple. They knew the route the little girl took on her way to the piano lesson, so they started a canvass, covering about seven city blocks. After a lot of leg work, they were able to account for her presence along all but three of those blocks, the last three preceding the house where her piano teacher lived. So, the afternoon following her disappearance, I decided to retrace the girl’s route on my own. I didn’t have any clear idea of what I was after; I was just fishing. Well—” I paused, getting my breath. “Well, when I got to the last block, the one immediately preceding the teacher’s house, I suddenly had an eerie feeling that someone, or something, was watching me. It was a—a strange sensation that I’ve never been able to really define, even to myself. It was a sense of oppression, as if some evil presence suddenly seemed to be suffocating me. I remember standing perfectly still on the sidewalk, as if I were numbed or suffering some sudden shock. I—”
    “You didn’t see anything?” Kanter interrupted, watching me closely. “It was just a feeling?”
    I nodded. “That’s right. Just a feeling. But I’d had it before, several times, so I had some experience with it, you might say. Anyhow, I remember turning around slowly, trying to locate the presence, whatever it was.”
    “Did you locate it?”
    I shook my head. “Not exactly. You have to understand the experience is something like being under the influence of a narcotic. The manifestations, as nearly as I can describe them, are a feeling of floating, a dissociation with everything around you. And yet there’s an accompanying feeling of heightened perception. It’s as if everything fades away but one specific presence—the evil presence that’s getting through to you. And that presence is sharp. Painfully, incredibly sharp.” I waved my hand in apology. “I know it all sounds hokey. But it’s the—”
    “What happened then?” Kanter interrupted briskly, glancing at his watch.
    “Well, I was able to localize the origin of this feeling, whatever it was. I decided, for no really rational reason, I suppose, that it was somewhere in the last block. There were two or three houses there, and one of them figured to be it. Whatever ‘it’ was.”
    “What’d you do then?”
    I shrugged. “Nothing. I was too shook. As I remember, I got in my car and drove to the nearest bar and had a drink. You see, a couple of times I’d experienced this sensation were in pretty dire circumstances, and there was a kind of hangover from that, I suppose. And, besides, the experience itself leaves you feeling drained.”
    “What happened next?”
    “Well, all that afternoon I thought about it. I couldn’t decide what to do.”
    “Did you tell the police?”
    Ruefully I smiled. “Tell them what? That I’d felt a little lightheaded walking down the street?”
    Kanter returned the smile. “I see what you mean. Well?”
    “Well, finally, I decided to go back that evening. As a reporter, investigating the disappearance. One way or the other, I had to know. It wasn’t that I had any overwhelming desire to find the girl. It was just that I had to know, one way or the other, whether there was anything to the experience, whether it had any validity. For my own peace of mind.”
    “Had the police got anything more in the meantime?”
    “No. Nothing.”
    Kanter nodded, waiting for me to continue.
    “Anyhow, that’s what I did. I went back about seven-thirty that night. I parked my car across from those three houses, and I started ringing doorbells. The first house was empty; no one was living there. In the second house, a