The Amityville Horror by Jay Anson Read Free Book Online

felt an urge to call Father Mancuso, but couldn't decide just what he wanted to say.
    He was sorry to hear of Father Mancuso's flu and asked if there was anything he could do. Assured there was nothing any man could do to relieve the priest's discomfort, George began to speak of what was happening at the house. At first it was a light conversation; George told Father Mancuso about bringing down the ornaments to trim the Christmas tree that Jimmy, his brother-in-law, would be delivering at any moment.
    Father Mancuso interrupted George. "I have to talk to you about something that's been on my mind. Do you know the room on your second floor that faces the boathouse-the one where you had all those unopened boxes and cartons?"
    "Sure, Father. That's going to be Kathy's sewing and meditation room when I get a chance to fix it up. Hey, you know what we found in there the other day? Flies! Hundreds of houseflies! Can you imagine, in the middle of winter!"
    George waited for the priest's reaction. He got it.
    "George, I don't want you, or Kathy, or the children to go back into that room. You have to stay out of there!"
    "Why, Father? What's up there?"
    Before the priest could answer, there was a loud crackling sound on the telephone. Both men pulled back from their earpieces in surprise. George couldn't make out Father Mancuso's next words. All that remained was an irritating static noise. "Hello! Hello! Father? I can't hear you! There must be a bad connection!"
    From his end, Father Mancuso was also trying to hear George through the static and only faintly heard the "Hello's." Finally the priest hung up, then dialed the Lutzes' number again. He could hear the phone ringing, but no one picked it up. The priest waited for ten rings before finally giving up. He was very disturbed.
    When he could no longer hear Father Mancuso through the crackling, George had also hung up his receiver. He waited for the priest to call back. For several minutes he sat in the kitchen and stared at the silent telephone. Then he dialed Father Mancuso's private number at the Rectory. There was no answer.
    In the livingroom, Kathy began wrapping the few Christmas gifts she had accumulated before moving to Amityville. She had gone to sales at Sears and to the Green Acres Shopping Center in Valley Stream, picking up bargains in clothing for her children and other items for George and her family. Sadly, Kathy noted that the pile of boxes was rather small and silently berated herself for not leaving the house to go out shopping. There were few toys for Danny, Chris, and Missy, but it was too late to do anything about it.
    She had sent the children up to the playroom so she could work alone. She thought about Missy. She had not answered her daughter's question about talking angels. Kathy had put it off by telling Missy she'd ask Daddy about it. But it never came up when she and George went to bed. Why would Missy come up with such an idea? Did it have anything to do with the child's peculiar behavior yesterday in her bedroom? And what was she looking for in the sewing room?
    Kathy's concentration was broken when George returned from the phone in the kitchen. He had an odd expression on his face and was avoiding her gaze. Kathy waited for him to tell her about Father Mancuso when the front doorbell rang. She looked around, startled. "It must be my mother! George, they're here already and I haven't even started supper!" She hurried toward the kitchen. "You get the door!"
    Kathy's brother, Jimmy Conners, was a big, strapping youth who genuinely liked George. That evening, his face exuded a special warmth and charm. He was to be married on the day after Christmas and had asked George to be his best man. But when mother and son entered the house, Jimmy lugging a sizable Scotch pine, both their faces changed at the sight of George, who hadn't shaved or showered for almost a week. Kathy's mother, Joan, was alarmed. "Where are Kathy and the kids?" she asked George.
    "She's