"I still can't believe it," Shinji mumbled. "She was there? How old must she be?"
"Probably ancient," Sabrina teased, "but don't say anything like that around her." She frowned slightly at him, critically appraising his outfit.
Completely shocked by the prospect of her knowing something, Sabrina and Shinji had agreed to meet Ms. Abigail Gregory (who insisted they call her by her first name) the next day for coffee, to discuss the case. Sabrina tugged faintly at the collar of Shinji's red button-down shirt, trying to straighten it.
"Don't worry, I know how to respect my elders," he sighed, batting her hands away. "And may I ask why you keep adjusting my shirt?"
The teenage witch flushed slightly. "It's all wrinkled. And I want to make a good impression on Ms. Greg—er, Abigail."
"Sabrina, we already made an impression."
"A better one!"
Shinji shrugged, and submitted to her tugging and straightening once more. It wasn't like it would kill him.
And after all, it is kind of cute.
Abigail was already waiting for them, a cup of coffee in her hand. She raised her free one in a beckoning gesture, then settled back down. The two detectives glanced at each other as if to say, "All right, now we're getting down to business," as they made their way to the small table in the corner.
Shinji caught a passing waitress and quickly gave her their orders, as Sabrina sat down. The Starring Rolls Café was moving at a crawl, its normal crowd being somewhat nocturnal. The afternoon sunlight, slanting down through the windows, cast the room into a study of light and shadow. The teenage girl blinked, being caught in a golden bar of light streaming out of the window.
The elderly woman across from her sat in the half-dark, perched genteelly on her chair as if in a Victorian tea-parlor. She looked as delicate and fragile as a bone china teacup.
Sabrina shook her thoughts off as Shinji came back, sitting down beside her. Enough. We've got to get whatever information we can from her.
Abigail had placed a manila folder stuffed with paper on the table. At the elderly woman's nod of encouragement, Sabrina picked it up and began to pull the contents out, spreading them across the table. In front of her was an assortment of papers, photographs, and newspaper clippings. Shinji picked up a handful and began going through them. Abigail placed her cup on the table and took a deep breath, as if preparing herself to relive something horrifying…
She reached out for a front-page clipping of one of the local papers, the Clarion. The headline read, "Mystery Befalls Hollywood Tower Hotel." A byline wondered in block print, "Where did they disappear to?" Abigail stroked the text as she began to talk.
"My family and I lived at the Hotel. My father, Sam Gregory, worked in the film industry; living there helped his work, you see. That is...we lived there until I was 11..." her voice hushed. "Halloween, 1939 was my 11th birthday. It was also the last night we spent there. And I...well, I never felt much for celebrating my birthday after that horrible night."
"So…what happened?" Shinji breathed eagerly, leaning forward. Sabrina gave him a swift kick to the shin.
Be careful! This is potentially dangerous, emotional territory we're treading on here. He shouldn't seem so eager.
Shinji scowled faintly at her as he rubbed his sore leg. Abigail, however, hadn't seemed to notice this little interlude as she fingered the front page. "The Hotel always threw wonderful parties. That Halloween, the owner set up a wonderful party. Like a masked ball, with live jazz; oh, and Anthony Fremont as the bandleader-goodness, I remember being quite infatuated with him as a young girl..." she chuckled softly as she reminisced. One of the front page photographs-of Sally Shine-caught her eye, and she blinked hard.
"Sally Shine also lived in the hotel," Abigail continued softly. "And the night of the party, she was coming home from a publicity trip. It…I…" she trailed off. She touched a wrinkled hand to her temple. "Please pardon me. It's hard to talk about this, and as the years go by, well…"
"It's all right, Abigail," Sabrina said encouragingly. "Just take your time and tell us whatever you can."
The older woman paused, composing herself. She picked up her cup and gently swirled around the contents, as if searching for some long-hidden truth in the dark liquid. "Sally," she said finally, her voice soft and far away, "was my sister, you see."
Both teenager sat, faintly stunned, in their chairs. An eyewitness…who's a relative of one of the victims? Finally a chance! A chance to get information, at last! Sabrina licked her suddenly dry lips. "Can you tell us more about Sally? About what happened to Sally that night?" she asked softly, cautiously. She reached below the table for Shinji's hand, giving it a giddy squeeze.
Abigail sipped her coffee. "The two of us were separated by three years; I was the elder. Sally was a gentle and loving girl. Everybody loved Sally," she smiled fondly. "And everyone was looking forward to her homecoming that night. But," she sighed, placing the cup down, "she never made it to the party."
"The Halloween party?" Shinji drawled out, hinting for more information.
"Yes, the Halloween party being held that night at the Tip Top Club—the nightclub at the hotel's top floor." Abigail looked up at them from the table, her soft brown eyes suddenly very bright. "My memories of that night are not very clear, but I remember one part clearly. I shall never forget it…never. Sally and her nanny walking into that elevator, and the doors shutting on them. And the elevator stopping…and the lightning…" she trailed off, lips quivering. "It was so horrible…she just walked into that elevator…and she never came out."
Shinji looked at Sabrina. She looked sympathetic, but also vaguely disturbed. The lady was getting very emotional, and hadn't given them any useful information. Perhaps it was best to cut the conversation off right now…
Rising from his seat, the Japanese warlock smiled warmly at the older woman. "I can see this is a very sensitive subject. Perhaps we should stop...?"
Sabrina glanced at him, startled. What is Shinji up to?
"No! Please!" Abigail cried sharply. The detectives turned their full attention towards her.
"I have lived my whole life not knowing what happened to her. In a way, I feel responsible to find out what happened—I'm the last living person present at that party. You could call it survivor's guilt, in a way, but I need to put this to rest. Every Halloween, the stories resurface, and I try to remember, but nothing comes."
"But if you can't remember anything…" Shinji started again.
"Well, when the hotel workers went into the shaft to look for the occupants of the elevator, they found nothing. The elevator had stopped between floors, and the only way out was to climb out of the elevator and use the service ladder to go either up or down to another floor. But no trace was found of any of the missing occupants on any of the floors…or at the bottom of the elevator shaft."
Shinji sucked in his breath, turning to face Sabrina, whose eyes had gone wide. Maybe Abigail could still help, if she could give them details of what happened after that night.
"Now, what I think is that maybe…maybe something happened that night. Something traumatic, like a…a kidnapping…I don't know. And whatever happened that night—I saw it. I know that I have missing gaps in my memories of that night. I've talked to doctors and psychologists, and they've told me that it's simply trauma from the accident. That what I saw was perhaps too much for my mind to deal with, so it locked the painful memories away. But," Abigail proclaimed, eyes bright, "I've also heard that sometimes coming in contact with an item connected to the incident can help unlock the memories."
"So the papers," Sabrina gestured to the manila folder, "didn't help?" Abigail shook her head. The teenager bit her lip. "Then what you're asking me is…"
Abigail sucked in a deep breath. "I would like," she said softly, "to accompany you onto the grounds of the Hotel."
The Spirit Detectives blinked, looked at each other, and then turned to face the elderly woman. "Are you…uh…sure that this is a good idea?" Shinji asked cautiously.
"I'm convinced," Abigail began, looking at both of them intently, "that going to the Hotel may help restore my memory. Now, if what I've heard is true, the Hotel was abandoned right after the accident, so it should look the same."
"And something you see there may jog your memory," Sabrina slowly mused. "That's a great idea, really."
The older woman smiled modestly. "Well, I have had sixty years to think about it, you know."
"So, why have you not visited the hotel after the accident?" Shinji asked curiously, raising one blue eyebrow.
Abigail froze a little. "Well, I…my parents forbade me to set foot on the grounds," she finished, a little lamely. "They were convinced that the painful memories it might set off would…well, scar me mentally. A-and the grounds have been closed off for decades," she murmured.
Shinji still looked unconvinced.
Abigail sighed. "Well, I am a little scared. It's just so much—and I keep questioning myself, wondering if I'm ready. But I'm not getting any younger, and…well…"
"I understand," Sabrina assured her. "And Shinji does, too, don't you, Shinji?" she shot him a sharp look. Shinji, for his part, was musing in the chair.
"If that is the case," he said slowly, "is there anything that happens to you? Anything strange?"
Abigail paused, frowning slightly as she thought. "We-ell…yes. Visions—of Sally, not always in the Hotel. Voices that don't make sense. I told my parents, of course, when it first happened, but…well, they didn't take me very seriously," she smiled grimly.
Shinji pursed his lips thoughtfully.
"For as long as I can remember," Abigail continued, "I've had this need—this obsession, I suppose—to go to the Hotel. I was consumed by the thought of returning, but whether it was out of desire to find Sally or my need to fill in that missing gap in my memory—I can't say."
Sabrina turned to her partner. "Do you have any ideas, Shinji?" she asked in a low voice.
"Possibly. I will need some time to think about it more, though."
"If it helps at all," Abigail said suddenly, "I could give you this."
The two teens leaned forward. Abigail reached into her purse and removed a small object, which she held out to them. Cautiously, Sabrina retrieved it from the older woman's outstretched hand, holding it in the palm of her own. Curious, she and Shinji stared at it.
In the palm of Sabrina's hand was a small, rather rusted, metal key.
"I don't know what it opens," Abigail offered, "but I've had it for as long as I can remember. I think it could possibly open something in the Hotel."
Sabrina lifted an eyebrow as she looked at Shinji out of the corner of her eye. "Now do you think she's useful?" she asked archly under her breath.
"Possibly."
"So, we're letting her in on the investigation," Shinji mumbled as the two left the restaurant.
"Not exactly," Sabrina sighed. "We're going in and investigating. As soon as we determine that the area is stable, we'll bring her in to look around. An hour or two, no harm done. And besides," she continued, folding her arms, "I like Abigail. She's a very kind, thoughtful old woman, and I want to help her out. Imagine—living all those years, not knowing what happened to someone you knew."
Shinji was silent for a moment. "I know," he said softly. "I just have this…this feeling."
"Like what?"
Shinji's brow was furrowed as he stared intently at the sidewalk. "I don't know. But I have this strange feeling about the Hotel…something…evil."
"Evil?" Sabrina's eyes widened. "Tell me you're joking."
Shinji tilted his head skyward, focusing on something in the distance. "I don't know. I wish I was."
Turning her head to see what he was looking at, Sabrina caught sight of it. Looming above the skyline in a stark black line, rose the Hollywood Tower Hotel.
Turning the doorknob, Sabrina stepped wearily into her hotel room. She was tired, hungry, and a little frustrated at that afternoon's failed information-gathering session. So we're back where we started, knowing nothing more than before. The small item in her pocket rubbed against her leg. Sabrina drew the key out of her pocket and looked at it. "Okay, not necessarily back at the beginning," she corrected herself out loud.
"At the beginning of what?"
Sabrina looked over at Salem, who was curled up next to her laptop. The cat's tail undulated slowly as he watched her with narrowed amber eyes.
"We made a bit of progress today," Sabrina began. "Just a little bit, mind you."
"Hrmph," Salem snorted. "Well, we made a lot more than that, actually—or should I say, I."
"What?" Sabrina blinked, confused.
"Tell me how good I am," Salem puffed himself up.
"Salem, tell me what's going on," Sabrina demanded. "You're not making any sense."
A slow grin lazily stretched over the Burmese cat's face. "I found that guy you were looking for—the bellhop's grandson."
The Starring Rolls Cafe is another MGM Studios eatery. Again, it's counter service, not full-service.
A note or two about Abigail, because this might confuse people who have seen the movie... Yes, the movie chooses to reveal that Abigail and Sally are sisters much later in the plot, almost near the end. There will be twists and turns, so don't worry! Also, the movie never really talks about Abigail and Sally's parents. I took a few liberties with those, so any characterizations can be strictly tossed in the "non-canon" category.
Next chapter: Thanks to Salem, the Spirit Detectives have a new lead, and a chance to finally tour the Hollywood Tower Hotel. What secrets will they uncover as they explore the old building?