Tyler Marinson made a significant fortune even before he turned 30. When he got tired of the bustle of the stock exchange, he bought in Barstead - a small town in Connecticut - a wonderful house with a plot of fifty acres, closed his office in New York and began to live the life of a country gentleman.
However, he continued to remain on the board of a number of large firms in order, as he himself put it, "to be aware of all the matters."
Mariah, his wife, was enjoying her new life to the fullest. She hated New York and loved the countryside. The Marinsons spent almost a year as recluses. They rarely received guests and in 10 months only visited New York twice.
But after a while, Mariah felt that her husband Tyler was bored. Then she started throwing parties, inviting guests for the weekend.
In their early thirties, the Marinsons were a beautiful couple and, although they did not have children, they did not suffer from it. Tyler is tall, dark-haired, with handsome, somewhat harsh features; Mariah is a short blonde with a captivating appearance and so blue eyes that they seemed fake.
The Marinsons met Kemli through the Polmenov. Kemli got rich on oil. He spent a lot of time in the Caribbean in search of oil reserves. Kemli became the favorite of the Marinsons. Because he was single, Mariah constantly tried to attach some of her girlfriends, mostly widows, to him. Her persistence amused him, Kemli adored Mariah and respected Tyler. From each trip, he invariably brought both Marinsons some extraordinary souvenir.
It was not an easy task for the Marinsons to find a gift: they had everything. And because Kemli tried to bring a rare, not necessarily expensive, although unique in its kind thing. Tyler knew how to appreciate such a gift, and Mariah was delighted with the little thing.
And now one of Kemli's gifts brought trouble, although it may have been a coincidence. Let the reader draw his own conclusions.
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Once, after a trip to Haiti, Kemli brought the Marinsons a "voodoo" doll of local work. The voodoo cult, which originated in Africa, is most widespread in the West Indies. It is based on belief in witchcraft, shamanism and witchcraft. The 4-inch (approximately 10 cm) high voodoo doll was carved from a hardwood native to Haiti. Decorated with brightly colored feathers, it was set on a massive wooden pedestal, from which two metal rods protruded on either side of the pupa with wooden heads that resembled drums. If someone pressed one of the drums, the doll spun, bounced and swayed in a grotesque dance, as if someone had revived it.
At the same time, Kemli gave an explanation: if someone wants to bring misfortune to the hated enemy, they must start the chrysalis in a dance, call her by name - Zombik - and make a request.
Tyler was delighted with the gift, but this time Mariah squeezed out words of gratitude. After Kemli left, she confessed to her husband that she did not like the doll and that her appearance inspired fear.
Tyler laughed good-naturedly at her fears, let the voodoo doll dance, called her name, and asked his friend Harrington's steel stocks to drop 20 points.
The next day, contrary to expectations, Harrington's shares rose 2 points. Tyler brought this to Mariah's attention to comfort her. Frowning, she said:
- You did not fulfill the conditions set. Harrington was never your enemy, you were only rivals. In addition, you never hated him and in your heart you did not want the shares of his enterprises to fall 20 points.
Tyler laughed cheerfully in response, remarking:
“You’re probably right. However, all this is sheer nonsense.
The Haitian freak continued to show off on the shelf above the fireplace, and Maraya gradually forgot about her.
After some time, Tyler had a violent explanation with Jake Seff, the owner of the local service station and Atlas garage. The fact is that the company "Atlas" unscrupulously performed work on the repair of Tyler's favorite sports car and, moreover, demanded an exorbitant payment for this. When Tyler pointed out the shortcomings in the work to Jake Seff, he flatly refused to fix them and just as stubbornly insisted on paying the amount assigned to him.
Tyler returned home frantic, swearing like a platoon of soldiers. Mariah tried to calm him down somehow, but he was in a bad mood throughout the evening.
Before going to bed she said:
- Is it worth so upset about a few hundred dollars. Calm down, my dear.
But Tyler continued to frown and be angry.
- It's not about the money. I don't want to be deceived just because I am a wealthy person. In order to get rich, I had to work hard on my mental faculties, and it was not easy. I constantly had to take risks, and Seff thinks that I can be sheared with impunity like a lamb. He believes that I will humbly come to terms with this. Will not work!
The next morning, Tyler called somewhere on business, and after lunch he left for the city. He managed to return in time for supper. He was still angry, but he was already in control of himself.
Sipping a cocktail, he told Maraya that he had inquired about the financial situation of Atlas.
“Jake Seff is on the verge of bankruptcy,” Tyler explained. “He has absolutely no cash, things are going so badly that he hasn’t even renewed his garage and workshop insurance.
Pouring a cocktail into his glass, he added:
“Jake is not only acting shamelessly, but simply stupid. He should have renewed his insurance despite the financial difficulties. He won't get a cent if his garage burns down. He will be completely ruined.
Mariah tried to turn the conversation to another topic, but Tyler didn't want to talk about anything else. He paced up and down the room and suddenly stopped by the fireplace a few feet from the voodoo doll.
As if thinking, he put the glass on the shelf above the fireplace and said:
- By God, we need to test her strength.
Approaching him, Mariah tried to dissuade him from this.
- This is childishness, you act like a capricious child.
Ignoring her remark, he flicked one of the drums with a swift flick of his finger. A voodoo doll, adorned with tufts of feathers, spun and jumped in a frantic dance.
“Zombie,” he commanded, “Jackie Seff’s Atlas garage was sleeping!
Mariah sat down with a sigh.
- Tyler, I don't like this. You shouldn't be burning with such hatred for anyone. Let's get rid of this nasty doll.
Raising his glass, Tyler replied:
- Get rid of her? Old Kemli will never forgive us for this. Every time he visits us, he casts a glance at her.
When Mariah came downstairs for breakfast the next morning, Tyler was already reading the local newspaper while drinking his orange juice.
Without a word, he handed her the newspaper and pointed to a short message. The headline caught her eye: "Seff's garage burned down: owner completely ruined." Marya turned deathly pale.
"Tyler, did you accidentally set Seff's garage on fire?"
- What are you talking about? Setting fire to the garage - car graveyard? That would be unforgivable stupidity. Besides, the Haitian doll has nothing to do with it. This is a coincidence.
Pushing aside her orange juice glass, Mariah poured herself a cup of black coffee.
“Tyler,” she pleaded, “please, take this voodoo monster out of your house and burn it or, if you like, throw it out in the woods.
Looking up at his wife, Tyler said:
- You think like a 10-year-old girl. Such troubles happen at times. What a pity that you cannot appreciate the funny side of such a phenomenon, otherwise we could both laugh at it.
Mariah objected sharply:
- Bankruptcy is not a laughing matter, even if bankrupt is a dishonest person. This disgusting doll inspires me with fear! I'm afraid of her.
After drinking coffee, Tyler got up from the table.
- I have to go to town. I want to buy something at Carson's store.
As he put on his coat, Mariah remarked:
“You want to drive past Seff's garage and glimpse the smoking ruins.
The fervor in her remark startled him. With a shrug, he left the house.
The voodoo doll continued to stand on the shelf above the fireplace. Mariah, however, only a few weeks later got rid of the vague anxiety that tormented her heart.
Several times Tyler tried to destroy the doll, but something interfered with his implacable nature. Thus, the Haitian doll remained in place.
One day, returning from a trip to New York, where he now rarely visited, Tyler was detained on the highway by Skepley Highway Police Sergeant. After a long meeting of the company's board, he hurried home, because he was worried about Maraya, who had contracted the flu the day before. By the time he reached the freeway, it was already dusk.
As far as Hartford, he drove at high speed. As he approached the motorway exit, he slowed down, but when he reached the outskirts of Barstead, he sharply increased it again.
Tyler's excitement about Mariah turned into alarm. He cursed another Templeton board member whose long and tedious speech had dragged out the meeting. And at this time in the rear-view mirror flashed a red flashing light of a car of the traffic police. He instinctively pressed the accelerator pedal, but, on reflection, slowed down and slowed down to the curb.
A police car, with its red flashing lights on, stopped behind him. When Sergeant Skepley approached the lowered window of his car, Tyler gave the cop his license and registration card for the car.
While the sergeant checked his papers, he studied the sergeant carefully. Although the latter was young, he had already reached the rank of sergeant. He was strictly formal. Tyler realized that talking to him about his sick wife waiting for him at home all alone was completely meaningless.
Pulling the form out of his pocket, the sergeant said:
- Mr. Marinson, you will be summoned to the court of violations of traffic rules for recklessness and an attempt to avoid arrest.
Blood rushed into Marinson's face with rage.
“Let me tell you,” he said, “I may be guilty of speeding, but why do you want to accuse me of all mortal sins? What other attempt to avoid detention are you talking about?
The sergeant looked dispassionately into Marinson's face.
“When you saw my flashers, Mr. Marinson, you first pressed hard on the accelerator pedal. This was the “attempt to avoid detention”. It will take me 10 minutes to fill out the form, Mr. Marinson,”said the sergeant and headed for his car.
Sitting in his car, Marinson was seething with rage. It took 20 long minutes before the sergeant returned with a completed form. He began to explain to Marinson that he would need to appear before the district court for traffic violations in the town of Meriden, but Marinson snatched the form from the sergeant, casually threw it on the seat and, turning on the ignition, asked angrily:
- It's written there, isn't it? And I can read.
When he disappeared around the next turn, he wanted to press the accelerator pedal to the point of failure, but refrained, as in the rearview mirror he saw the sergeant's car following him.
When he got home, he was literally shaking with anger. Having entered the garage, he did not get out of the car for several minutes to calm down.
Mariah said she was feeling better, although she hadn't eaten all day.
- Tyler stayed with her for an hour before going downstairs to finally grab a bite. He told his wife about the details of the company's board meeting, but kept silent about the detention on the road.
The kitchen seemed uncomfortable to him, and he went into the living room. Deciding that he did not feel like eating alone, he poured a rather large portion of Scotch whiskey into a glass and, diluting the drink with soda water, unfolded a form with a detention report.
The minutes stated that he was to appear before the district court in Meriden on such and such a date, if he did not deny his guilt. If he does not consider himself guilty, he will have to notify about it, and the court will appoint him another time to appear.
The form bore the signature of Traffic Police Sergeant Skepley who had detained him.
Swearing to himself, he threw the form on the floor. He was well known in the town, and any other policeman would have limited himself to a warning, and in the worst case, a subpoena, which could be sent with the amount of the fine written out. He recalled that Sergeant Skepley had earned a reputation as a strict guardian of the law. An image of the sergeant appeared in his mind's eye, staring at him with bulging, unblinking eyes. The sergeant's lips were tightly compressed, and Marinson decided that he was not just strict, but sadistically cruel.
After drinking another shot of whiskey, he decided that he would not plead guilty and would defend his position in court. In the morning, he will call Bowtner's law firm, which has a branch in Hartford. He knew the young lawyer Millward, who headed the Hartford branch. Millward will be able to settle the matter in his favor.
The third shot of good Scotch whiskey cheered him up. Having poured himself a fourth, he sat down in a chair with a feeling of relative contentment. And then a Haitian doll, standing there on the shelf above the fireplace, came into his field of vision. Approaching her, he set the doll in motion with a light blow of his index finger on one of the drums articulated with the figure. Bouncing, nodding, and swaying, she performed the grim dance of death.
"Zombie," Tyler commanded, "let Sergeant Skepley fall dead!" Dead, dead, dead! - he repeated, as the dancing doll slowed down and finally froze.
Sitting back in his chair, he decided to finish the rest of the Scotch, and the next morning he woke up with a aching headache from a hangover.
Before 10:00 a.m., he phoned the Hartford branch of Boutner's law firm. Millward was not yet in the office. He told the secretary that he would call back.
Marinson again tried to contact Millward at about 11:00. Although Millward had already arrived at the office, he was busy in a meeting and could not be called on the phone. The secretary asked if Mr. Marinson would like to tell him something. After muttering something unintelligible, he hung up.
After walking around the room, he went up to the second floor to the bedroom of Marya. She read the book and felt somewhat better than the day before. He complained that he could not reach Millward on the phone, and he needed to talk to him.
Mariah put down the book.
- Nervous, you plunge me into a state of anxiety. Why don't you go to Hartford and see Millward?
He noticed that he didn't want to leave her alone, but she mockingly asked him not to worry about her:
“The phone is here beside me, and besides, I’m already on the mend. After the board meeting, you accepted too much. Don't worry about me. Go to Millward's and meet him. You're annoyed with something.
Taking the book, she jokingly waved her pen to him goodbye.
Smiling, he kissed her:
- If I were a doctor, you would be my favorite patient. You're right. Goodbye.
He drove to Hartford slowly. When he arrived at the Bowtner office, Millward had gone to lunch. In the meantime, Marinson decided to have a cocktail and a sandwich to eat.
Returning an hour later, he found Millward in his study. As Tyler told him about the event that worried him, he became more and more infuriated.
Millward leaned back in his chair and adjusted his slipped glasses with the tips of his fingers. Marinson noticed that Millward had grown fat and had a belly. There was disapproval in his smile, but he said:
“Times have changed, Tyler, at least a lot has changed in Connecticut. Providing the solution you want is nearly impossible. We can get the case to be postponed to a benevolent judge. If you're lucky, your driver's license will not be revoked. This Sergeant Skepley seems to have a good reputation. Besides, you were really in a hurry to see your seriously ill wife. In any case, we will do everything in our power.
Marinson thanked Millward and stood up. He was disappointed. A few years ago, in New York, Millward would have taken the completed form from him and ripped it to pieces in the presence of Marinson. After that, Millward would have slapped him on the shoulder and treated him to the path from his personal flask.
He was driving home, lost in thought, feeling vaguely uneasy, with a feeling of some kind of trouble. He realized that his money and status no longer had the same weight.
As he drove through the cramped center of Barstead, he noticed that the town seemed to have died out. When he turned into the street leading to his house, he saw an ambulance. She was driving towards him at low speed, without turning on the sirens. The car riveted his attention for some reason. He noticed in her a figure lying on a stretcher, covered with a blanket.
He stopped at the edge of the road and barely resisted the urge to turn around to follow this car. However, he changed his mind and drove on in the direction of his house. There were only three houses in the entire street, including his own.
And soon Marinson had already driven to the top of the hill where his house was located, and suddenly felt like he was falling into the underworld.
There was no home, only smoking ruins, charred rafters, blackened brick chimneys, and twisted water pipes. He had the strength to stop the car.
He was sitting in the car in a state of shock when a man in a velvet suit approached him. Although Marinson recognized the man, he could not remember his name or surname.
“Try to calm down, Mr. Marinson. We did our best. I am very sorry for what happened and sympathize with you with all my heart.
Looking around him, Marinson saw the Barstead Volunteer Fire Department fire trucks and a dozen other private vehicles. His lawn has become a plowed field.
He suddenly turned on the ignition.
“I'm going to see my wife, she’s in that ambulance,” he said.
He saw how people surrounded his car, and someone's hand gripped his wrist. Someone with a sad expression on his face shook his head and said:
“Mr. Marinson, the ambulance didn't take your wife away.
He got out of the car, still not realizing what had happened.
- Why not my wife? Of course, my wife! What are you talking about?
Seeing the smoking ruins of the house again, he suddenly fell silent.
He tried to look into someone's eyes, but all the people around him avoided his gaze.
Bursting into tears, he rushed to the pile of blackened ruins and shouted:
- Mariah!
Someone put a hand on his shoulder. In complete daze, he stared at the person standing in front of him with unseeing eyes.
- The body of my wife … You said … And who was taken away by the ambulance?
A familiar voice answered:
- Sergeant Skepley. He died. He drove around your area and, as far as we could determine, saw that your house began to burn. He rushed to him to see if there was anyone inside, but did not run. He dropped dead halfway from his car to your house. He probably died of an acute heart attack. And soon your neighbors Conford noticed the pillars of fire and called the Volunteer Fire Brigade. Although the firefighters made it to your home in record time, they were late. Your wife appears to have suffocated. She never got out of the house.
With uncertain steps, Marinson walked towards the ruins and, stopping, looked at them with an absent gaze.
The living room's brick chimney did not collapse, and a Haitian doll with burnt feathers sat on a marble shelf above the fireplace. The solid wood from which it was carved somehow did not burn in the fire.
The oncoming gust of wind hit the drums and the figurine, jumping, swaying and bowing, once again performed the eerie dance of death.
Joseph Brennan