by Bill Brewer
“Christoph is a creative genius whose work is in demand all over the world. As his muse, it’s my responsibility to preserve his inspiration. We’ll get married as soon as his work is installed in the Louvre.”
“And when’s that?”
“Next year.”
“Sheila, I’ve got a few things to tell you about Christoph.”
Hands on her hips, Sheila grew impatient.
“Christoph’s real name is Gerald Hempstead, and he’s a serial murderer.”
“You’re crazy, that’s impossible. I don’t even know you, and now you tell me this crazy thing about a man I have known for six months. Get Out,” shouted Sheila as she pointed to the door. “Get Out right now.”
The young woman softened her features as she asked, “Would it help if you knew my name?”
Sheila did not relax, but shouted, “Yeah, who the hell are you?”
“I’m Beth Melbrook,” lied Fiera Getzler instinctively offering her hand.
As a Crepusculous operator, under the direction of Avery Forsythe, the young woman knew better than to give an unwitting accomplice her real name. Fiera had been tasked with confronting this man, interrogating him and dispatching him as she saw fit. Getting help from Sheila Lamb would just make things easier and hopefully keep the body count to one.
Sheila ignored the outstretched hand as she stepped back toward the counter. The big woman kept her eyes on Fiera. “I don’t really care who you are, and I don’t believe that’s your real name. I just want you to get the hell out of here, Beth.” From the angled wooden scabbard on the countertop, Sheila withdrew a long sharp kitchen knife. She pointed it at Fiera shouting, “Get Out, Get Out right now.”
Calmly, Fiera turned her body at an angle and, stepping around the island, she placed a barrier between her and Sheila. Fiera lifted her phone, showing Sheila it was not a weapon. She manipulated the screen, bringing up pictures. “Have you ever heard of Feather Fowler or Bovina Cattell?” Fiera spun her phone around showing Sheila the grisly pictures of two brutally murdered women.
Sheila, with her knife firm in hand, said, “Everyone’s heard of those girls. Their strange names were clues to the crime.”
“A crime that officially remains unsolved.”
“So what about them?”
“They were murdered, dismembered and consumed by Gerald Hempstead, the man you call Christoph.”
Although her grip on the knife relaxed ever so slightly, Sheila held her doubts, “How do you know this, but the cops don’t?”
“I’m much better than the cops. My employer has a lot more money and is not constrained by acts of legislation.”
Sheila did not release the knife, but she lowered her hand to the countertop.
“You could see in the pictures that the women were mutilated. Forensic evidence indicates certain body parts were never found. Hempstead pulled the same ruse with them as he is with you, but it seems to me with these two, he took the eating part just a little further.”
The etched lines in Sheila’s forehead, along with her deep frown, told Fiera she had started to turn.
“Has he ever said he’d like to eat you up?”
“Well yeah, but I didn’t think that’s what he meant.”
“The other girls ended up as courses in a Hungry Man’s meal plan. He’s a cannibal. You’re better off helping me than becoming a helping for him.”
Sheila sighed. “What are you going to do?”
“Mr. Hempstead stole money from my employer. He’s embezzled hundreds of thousands in Digival and spent them on you and the other girls. I’m putting a stop to that. I want you to go about your whole routine as if nothing was different, except ask him to go upstairs and change into a robe before the meal starts. Will he do that?”
Sheila nodded.
Shooting her a glance Fiera confirmed, “Are you sure you can do that?”
Sheila nodded again. “I can’t believe he’s been lying to me. All the weird food sex was just leading up to him getting ready to kill and eat me.”
“It’s going to be OK. We’re going to stop him.”
Fiera saw a faraway look on Sheila. It seemed as though the realization of her situation was weighing heavily upon her.
“He’s going to be here soon isn’t he?” asked Fiera.
Pulling Sheila over to the sink Fiera said, “You clean the salad, I’ll start cooking the chicken.”
A short time later with the chicken in the oven and the salad in a big wooden bowl, Fiera went upstairs to the bedroom to hang a black silk robe on a dressing hook. Returning downstairs, she laid out the plan to Sheila.
“I will be out of sight when he arrives. You greet him as always, except you ask him to go upstairs and change into the robe. Play it up like you’re really excited about him in a robe. Men will believe anything.”
Sheila smiled wanly at that line.
“When he comes back downstairs, I’ll be ready for him.”
Fiera extracted from her bag a long leather tube the end of which was securely sewn. She held it by the open end, reached back into her bag to get two golf balls. She dropped the golf balls into the length of the leather tube clutching it closed with her fist. Sheila looked quizzically at the device.
“I call it the scrotum. It’s a very effective tool of persuasion. I’m going to step out of sight for now.”
Fiera went to the library beyond the kitchen. She perused the titles on the shelves seeing The Freedom Broker she opened up K.J. Howe’s novel and was immediately pulled in by the first paragraph. Before she could finish the first chapter, she heard Hempstead arrive.
“Hello Lamb Chop,” said the unsuspecting liar and thief.
Fiera listened to hear Sheila tell him to go upstairs. She waited, but then she heard Sheila screaming, “LIAR, you’re a Fucking LIAR.”
Fiera rounded the corner of the kitchen just as Sheila slashed downward with the kitchen knife, gashing Hempstead’s forearm. Shocked by Sheila’s attack, the perverted accountant was doubly surprised to see Fiera, who stood still for a moment comprehending the scene. Hempstead bolted for the door, Fiera gave chase, swinging the scrotum. With practiced skill, she timed her strike to hit his right knee with both golf balls. Hempstead’s joint crumpled, sending him face first to the floor of the foyer.
Sheila followed the chase, flinging herself at the howling man ready to stab him with the knife. Fiera caught her, and with surprising strength, stopped her from impaling Hempstead with the eight-inch blade.
“I have to interrogate him, then you can finish him off.”
“He’s a liar. You can’t believe what he says,” screamed Sheila.
“She’s right you know,” said Hempstead through short gasps, as he strained to look behind him while lying on his belly. “I’m not going to tell you anything if you’re going to kill me.” Turning to Sheila, he pleaded, “Lambsy chop, is this some kind of weird role play?”
Fiera whacked him with the scrotum on the middle of his back.
“You’re a liar, and a thief and my employer wants to know if there are other accounts,” demanded Fiera as she dangled the leather sack with its two heavy bulges in a pendular fashion.
“Like bloody hell, I’m going to tell you.”
Fiera bashed him in the side of the face, cracking a tooth out of his lower jaw.
With blood oozing from his mouth, he spat out a chunk of the tooth. Looking up he saw the leather-bound bludgeon descend upon his forehead. The blow created an immediate goose egg and a bleed from the ridge of his brow.
Fiera addressed him matter-of-factly, “If you’ve got nothing more to say, guess there’s no need for delay.”
She swung the scrotum several times, building speed. Sheila shouted, “Wait, he’s mine.”
With a swiftness Fiera did not expect of the bigger woman, Sheila pushed past, straddled the fallen man and dropped onto his chest.
“Get off me you skanky cunt,” shouted Hempstead. “I’m going to barbeque your ass and yo
ur fat tits.”
Raising the knife over her head, Sheila angrily plunged the blade into Gerald Hempstead’s throat. She did not repeat the strike, but instead leaned forward on the knife’s hilt, rotating the blade as she listened to the gurgling last breaths of the man who would never lie to her again.
As the female member of Avery Forsythe’s Cerebrus Corp, Fiera Getzler’s missions often had a more cerebral, seductive and relational nature to them than her male counterparts. She was an operator, fully capable as a unit member for a military-style mission, but Avery relied on her ability to develop relationships that could be exploited. She embraced the role and appreciated how Avery recognized her capacity as entirely different than the men while treating her with the utmost respect.
Returning to LPU, she went immediately to Avery’s office.
“I’m glad to see you’re back from the mission,” said Avery.
“Thank you, sir,” replied Fiera from the seat in front of his desk.
“What did you learn from Mr. Hempstead?”
“I believe there was only one account, and a deceived lover can very quickly become a killer.”
Avery tilted his head as he asked, “How so?”
“The fatal blow that ended the life of Gerald Hempstead was not delivered by me,” said Fiera. “Sheila Lamb, the woman we tracked down and who was having an affair with Hempstead, was so enraged at being lied to that she attacked Hempstead killing him with a kitchen knife.”
“Is she a problem for us?” asked Avery with an elevated eyebrow.
“No. When I explained how she would have been killed and her flesh eaten by her perverted lover, she agreed that he was better off dead. Subsequently killing him, even though he deserved it, without due process was undeniably murder. As a murderer, I convinced her it was best that she does not report it and she should go off to live a quiet life as a model citizen. I further emphasized that if she did not do that, I would find her and kill her myself.”
With a beaming smile of pride, Avery proclaimed, “Excellent work Fiera, very well done. Your additional compensation is in your account. Go enjoy yourself, there are no current mission assignments for you. I’ll be in touch as necessary.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Fiera as she rose, extending her hand over the desk to receive an enthusiastic shake from her pleased employer. When their hands released, Fiera asked, “Sir, permission to voice a question?”
“Go right ahead,” said Avery.
“With Jarod no longer serving Cerberus, will there be a replacement?”
“I too am sorry that Jarod no longer works with us, but let me reassure you I am working to make the Cerberus team stronger than ever.”
Fiera gave her boss a quick smile as she turned to leave saying, “Thank you, sir.”
CHAPTER 16
The flight back to London was swift but anxiety producing for Diegert. He didn’t know what to do about his failure to acquire Masoni. He was glad he hadn’t done anything more against the man and his girlfriend, but he knew mission failure would not be well received.
Back in his quarters in LPU, Diegert felt stuck. He knew he wasn’t free to leave and the sense of freedom he had in Rome made his living situation back here frustratingly oppressive. The knock on his door was a welcome relief from his boredom although he knew exactly who it would be.
Through the open door walked Avery Forsythe. His dark pants and light blue long sleeve shirt were not at all unusual, however, the black trim around the neck of the shirt gave way into a dark black cape with a gold interior draped over his shoulders. The garment extended to the knees and the gold lining shimmered with each movement. Diegert felt like Lando Calrissian had just walked in. He wondered if Avery was only stopping by on his way to a cosplay convention.
“All roads lead to Rome, don’t they, David?”
“I guess so, but Jarod Masoni didn’t follow them. He wasn’t in Rome,” said Diegert
“That must have been disappointing.”
“I was in the park well before sunrise, and he never showed.”
Avery extracted his phone from his pocket, tapped the screen, pointed the device at an area of the blank wall and projected upon it an image of Diegert with his foot on the park bench stretching his leg.
“Well, hopefully, you were able to get a good stretch and go for a nice run since you were already there.”
Diegert said nothing but turned to look directly into Avery’s eyes, which were intently staring him down. Avery clicked through the series of photos revealing the meeting, the fight, the arrival of Masoni’s girlfriend and the eventual departure of the couple in their car.
“Why did you let him go and more importantly, why are you lying to me?”
“Why do you deny a man the opportunity to love a woman?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Masoni said he left because you wouldn’t allow him to have a girlfriend.”
Avery snorted and shook his head. “Now that was clever of him.”
Diegert was confused by this flip of perspective. Had Masoni duped him or was Avery playing him now?
“What is your policy about operators of Cerberus having personal relationships?”
“They are free to do so. I have no control over that.”
Diegert struggled. Who’s telling the truth, who’s lying.
“Do you even know his girlfriend’s name?”
“Joanne?! Sure I met her several times. She’s a lovely girl.”
Diegert couldn’t hide his confusion.
“Why, what did he say?” pressed Avery.
“He said you threatened her. He was afraid you would have her killed.”
“Well now that’s ridiculous, how could a young woman like that ever be a threat to us? Why would I ever want to harm her?”
“Then why did Masoni leave?”
“I believe it was greed that took him away. Greed can twist the minds of men and make them believe things they shouldn’t. Greed blinds you to what you have and shows you only what you don’t.”
“Well, what are you afraid he’s gonna do?”
“Sell information. His position within Cerberus will attract those with whom we compete. They will pay him for what he knows.”
“Like what?”
“He really knows nothing, but you now see what an effective liar he is. He got you to believe something about me that is preposterous.”
Diegert looked at Avery, whose cape covered one shoulder while draping behind the other revealing a bright shiny section of the lining.
“He will sell lies to people that could still harm us. It’s up to each of us to recognize the truth and know when we’re being lied to.”
Diegert’s gaze fell to the floor, his head bowed in contemplation.
Avery admonished, “David I now know that you will lie to me. I now see that trusting you is not something I can do implicitly. You will have to earn your way back into my trust.”
Diegert lifted his head, said nothing, looked at Avery and thought, So fuck’n what.
“What are you going to do now?” Diegert asked Avery.
“This test was your evaluation for inclusion in Cerberus. You have failed. For all other recruits, this would be your point of exit. You, however, as the son of Klaus Panzer, will be given dispensation to remain within the pool of candidates.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Avery cast a quizzical look at Diegert.
“I meant what are you going to do about Masoni?”
“Oh… given your position, as I pointed out a moment ago, I’m throwing that back at you. Now that you realize Masoni represents a threat to Crepusculous, what are you going to do? This is a strategic issue.”
“So now the next steps are my decision?”
“Yes.”
Diegert allowed a smile to lift his lips. He felt a bit of triumph, realizing that Avery was giving him power simply because of his birth. It was an unusual feeling, but one he quite enjoyed.
“You feel the threat is to be ignored.”
“I think the threat needs to be real. You obviously have observers in Rome. Have them track him, and if there is evidence of an inappropriate act, then we will take action. Continue monitoring his electronic communication and act on any significant intercepts. I require evidence for our actions, not just supposition.”
“You sounded like your father there. Expressing an opinion and delivering it as an order.”
“You gave me the opportunity.”
“So I did, and like him, you seized it.”
“Do you like working for my father?” asked Diegert who realized this was the first time he had spoken to anyone referring to Panzer as his father.
“Your father is an exceptional man for whom I have great respect and admiration. His decisiveness and determination have created a business empire, unlike anything the world has ever known. Neither Julius Caesar nor Genghis Khan can match what your father has done to amass wealth and power. I am continually impressed.”
“You have not answered my question.”
“There are great benefits to working for your father. I’ll say it is much better to be aligned with him than to oppose him. In fact, opposing him is foolish, futile and often fatal. I like being on the winning side. He has my loyalty.”
Diegert recognized the practical nature of Avery’s answer. He had to admit that he and Avery shared the trait of making pragmatic decisions.
“So trust me or not,” said Diegert “you and I are going to be working together.”
“In spite of your privileged position, you’re still my student. As is true of your father, being aligned with me is much better than being in opposition. Good day, David.”
Avery spun on his heels. The movement swirled the cape, fanning it out behind him as he opened the door and flowed out of the room.
CHAPTER 17
Diegert was now part of the LPU community, albeit he was limited to remaining in the underground labyrinth. He exercised in the fitness center, practiced shooting on the range, trained in the combative tactics room and ate in the cafeteria.
