“Maggie put up one other sign before she opened Beast House to the public. My favorite. It was painted in red letters on an old wooden door. Unfortunately, it disappeared years and years ago. But you can see photos of it in Janice Crogan’s Beast House Museum on Front Street. It goes like this. BEAST HOUSE! THE LEGENDARY, HISTORICAL SITE OF GHASTLY, MONSTROUS MURDERS! NOT ONE, BUT MANY! SEE WITH YOUR OWN EYES THE ACTUAL SCENES OF BRUTAL, BLOODY BUTCHERIES WHERE THEY HAPPENED! FEAST YOUR EYES ON AUTHENTIC REPRODUCTIONS OF THE BEAST’S RAVAGED VICTIMS—AS THEY WERE FOUND, IN THEIR ACTUAL DEATH GARMENTS. HEAR THE TRUE TALES OF THE BEAST AS TOLD BY ITS ONLY KNOWN SURVIVOR, MAGGIE KUTCH, PROPRIETOR OF BEAST HOUSE AND YOUR PERSONAL GUIDE.’
Patty grinned and said, “Love it. Plenty of the townfolks didn’t, though. They tried to stop Maggie from opening the house, but she wasn’t someone easily stopped and the first tour of Beast House took place, as scheduled, on July 1, 1932.
“Only a few people showed up for it. They were mostly locals. Some were the very people who’d protested against the place. Apparently, they were eager to see just how bad it really was. According to newspaper accounts, what they found was worse than they’d expected. The good folks were shocked and outraged. Several fainted. Others ran from the house, shrieking.
“Now that they’d seen the tour, they considered it an offense against human decency, God, motherhood, and good taste. One published report called it ‘An obscene display of vulgar savagery unfit for the eyes of civilized human beings.’ An editorial went this way: ”Has our community now sunk into such a mire of depravity as to find entertainment in the lewd and gory depiction of scantily clad murder victims such as can be found in every corner of the blasphemy known as Beast House? For shame!’” Grinning and shaking her head, Patty said, ”I like that, ’For shame!’”
“Those people hated Beast House. They kept trying to shut it down. They couldn’t manage that, but the town did pass an ordinance prohibiting children under the age of sixteen from going in.
“As the weeks went by, though, a funny thing happened. Local merchants began to notice they had more money in their cash registers at the end of the day. Pretty soon, it dawned on them that the extra cash had come from the pockets of strartgers. There seemed to be a regular flow of visitors coming into town. They spent money at the gas station, the cafe, the ice cream parlor, the pharmacy, the grocery store. You name the business, and out-of-towners were spending money there. And what was behind this influx of visitors?”
“BEAST HOUSE!” a girl shouted, beating Derek to the punch.
Derek frowned over his shoulder at her.
“That’s right!” Patty said. “Beast House! People were coming to Malcasa Point from nearby towns and farms, even all the way from Marin County, San Francisco and the East Bay, just to take the Beast House tour. But they didn’t only take the tour; they were spending their money all over town. Suddenly, nobody had a bad word to say about Beast House and nobody wanted to shut it down anymore. Also, the restriction against kids was removed. Everyone was allowed to take the tour, regardless of age.
“Ever since then, Beast House has been drawing visitors to Malcasa Point. Not always in great numbers, though. For the first couple of decades, the numbers were pretty low, especially by today’s standards. Some old records show that somewhere between thirty and fifty people per week were taking the tours.
“But Beast House’s popularity grew during the 1950’s, probably because a couple of kids broke in one night and ran into trouble. According to the survivor, the trouble was a beast. He escaped, but his friend wasn’t so lucky. You’ll hear all about it during your audio tour of the house, so I won’t go into the details. Because of the attack, however, interest in Beast House really surged in the fifties. Then it tapered off a little, but not very much. The House continued to pull in a steady stream of visitors until 1979.
“Everyone knows what happened in ‘79. If you didn’t know about it, most of you wouldn’t be riding on this bus today.”
“And wouldn’t that be a shame,” Monica whispered.
“To make a long story short, in 1979 a lot of very nasty business hit the fan. And the fan was Beast House.”
Several passengers chuckled.
“It’s all on the tour and in the books and movies, so I won’t pile the details on. Suffice it to say that the summer of 1979 was a festival of disappearances, abductions, rapes, rescues, and brutal murders.
“To top it all off, the actual corpses of three beasts were discovered after the smoke cleared in ‘79. Two of them quickly disappeared under mysterious circumstances. The third body, though, was preserved by a taxidermist. It was displayed at Janice Crogan’s Beast House Museum for several years until it was stolen in 1984. The museum still has photographs of it, and they can also be found in both of Janice’s books.”
Someone near the back of the bus must’ve raised a hand, because Patty nodded and asked, “Question?”
A man said, “Is it true that the stolen beast turned up in some sort of a freak show?”
Patty grinned. “And your name is?”
“Marv.”
“Well, Marv, you’re probably speaking of the Hairless Orang-utan of Borneo. It wasn’t exactly in a freak show, but in an exhibit called Jasper’s Oddities at the Funland amusement park.”
“Where’s Funland?”Derek asked.
“It’s in Boleta Bay,” Patty explained. “On the coast just south of San Francisco.”
“And it’s got the beast?”
“Well, it bad a creature on exhibit that might’ve been a beast. I saw it a long time ago, myself.”
“So did I,” said a man sitting a few rows ahead of Owen. “Name’s Wayne. Do you think it was the actual beast, or some kind of fake? I heard it was a fake.”
“I can’t say for sure. Nobody can. Like so many other things that have to do with Beast House, it’s a mystery. And it’ll have to stay a mystery, because a positive i.d. was never made and the so-called, Hairless Orang-utan of Borneo disappeared in about 1988. All the Jasper’s Oddities exhibits vanished one night, and the building was demolished shortly after that.”
“Did Janice Crogan ever get a look at the Hairless Orang-utan?” Wayne asked.
“No, she never did.”
“She should’ve taken it back,” Derek said. “If it was her monster and somebody stole it...”
“I talked to Janice about it, and she told me that she was glad to be rid of the thing. She didn’t want it back. When she was keeping it in her museum, she had to face it every single day. It was an awfully vivid reminder of those terrible experiences she’d had in 1979. Also, she told me that it didn’t smell terribly fresh.”
“Oh, yuck,” said the same girl who had cried out “BEAST HOUSE!” a few minutes earlier.
“And what’s your name, young lady?” Patty asked.
“None of your beeswax.”
“And what an unusual name that is,” Patty said. “Do you have a nickname? Wax?”
“Try Bitch,” Owen whispered.
Monica rolled her eyeballs upward.
“Her name’s Shareel,” said the man sitting beside her.
Probably her father.
“Thank you,” Patty told him. “And thank you for your comment about the odor, shareel. According to Janice, the odor was faint but very yucky. She said it smelled like a dead rat.”
Shareel went, “Ooooooo.”
“Apparently, that’s what happens if taxidermy isn’t done just right.”