by J L Aarne
Mary looked past Rainer’s shoulder as someone stepped out of the elevator. “You came!” she said happily and hurried to greet the newcomer. “I didn’t think you would. Sol said you said you had to work and I thought that was weird because Christmas, come on. Who works on Christmas?”
Rainer turned to see who she was talking to and locked eyes with Ezekiel. He experienced a moment of enlightenment as it fell into place and thought, Now, that is interesting. He was dressed as he usually was, in a nice suit, not an ugly sweater anywhere in sight. There was a familiar anticipatory clench of desire in the pit of Rainer’s stomach as Ezekiel held his gaze and neither of them looked away. He said something in greeting to Mary and smiled, but his dark eyes remained on Rainer’s and he moved away from her toward him.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Rainer said.
“You were supposed to be out of town until after Christmas,” Ezekiel said.
“Well, Agent, you are still trying to make a case against me for serial murder, aren’t you?” Rainer asked. “In which case, you shouldn’t be surprised if I lie to get away from you.”
Ezekiel frowned and stared at him quietly. Rainer let him look and shifted his attention away from him across the room. Mary was standing and talking with Mala, both of them with beers in their hands, watching him and Ezekiel with open curiosity while they talked. He wondered about that; if perhaps this had been behind Mary’s determination to get him to one of her parties. To put him together with Ezekiel. To what end though? Unless she knew that Ezekiel was investigating him. Then it would be merely a matter of interest and he couldn’t even fault her for it. As an outside observer, he would find it interesting too; pour gasoline on the fire and wait for it to flare up.
“You’re right. I don’t have any reason to expect you to tell me the truth,” Ezekiel said.
Rainer glanced at him. “I do believe we’ve been set up, Ezekiel.”
Ezekiel continued to scowl at him for a moment. Then he turned his head and followed where he was looking to Mary. “Sol invited me,” he said. “I wasn’t even going to come.”
“Well, Mary invited me. Neither was I,” Rainer said. “Yet here we are. I’m going to get a drink, care to join me?”
He walked away and after a conflicted second, Ezekiel followed him into the kitchen. Rainer opened the fridge and selected two bottled Bud Lights. He passed one to Ezekiel and twisted the top off his own to drink. There was a bar set up in the kitchen and an impossibly pretty man in eyeliner was serving drinks and pouring shots. Rainer watched him do it and felt Ezekiel watching him and smiled to himself. He reached over and picked up Ezekiel’s tie, let the silk run through his fingers. It was black and dark blue with small white snowflakes on it. Pretty and understated. A tie that acknowledged the holiday without celebrating it.
“So, you’re overdressed,” Rainer said.
He titled his head to look up at Ezekiel and watched his attention focus on his face. He thought about stepping into him and kissing him again, but decided against it. He wanted to, but he was having more fun playing with him and stringing him along, so he didn’t. Ezekiel leaned a little toward him like he expected it, but Rainer let go of his tie and stepped back, leaned back against the counter and drank his beer instead.
Ezekiel let out a breath and remembered his own beer. He opened it and drank. “I’m not overdressed,” he said. “I came here from work.”
“Late night,” Rainer observed.
“You’re so fucking sure I’m not going to get you,” Ezekiel said. “You’re arrogant. You know that’s going to be your downfall.”
Rainer raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Do you actually have any evidence that I’m guilty of anything?” he asked. “Fingerprints? DNA? Witness? Anything? Because I’m starting to think you just like spending your evenings with me watching TV. Not that I mind. I don’t. But what’s the matter, Agent Herod? The Mrs. nagging you at home? The kids driving you crazy?”
“I’m not married and I don’t have kids,” Ezekiel said.
“You’ve got nothing but a gut feeling,” Rainer said dismissively.
“I had the videos analyzed from all the places where the victims of The Lamplighter were last seen alive,” Ezekiel said. “We took still images of everyone who interacted with them in the hours before their death and ran extensive background checks on all of them.”
“So? Tell me, was I there?” Rainer asked. “Did I pick up Sally Bernstein at the Red Door and dance with her all night before I took her to some house across town where no one was living, cut her open and burned her body? Did I sit for hours beside cute, young Andy Drazen and commiserate with him about his woes while he got drunk before I took him somewhere and tortured him for hours before finally allowing him to die? Do you have my picture on a big white evidence wall somewhere from a security camera proving I was there, Ezekiel? Because I don’t think you do.”
Ezekiel stared at him, cocked his head and considered. “No,” he said eventually. “You weren’t among them.”
“Because I wasn’t there,” Rainer said.
“Maybe,” Ezekiel said. “Or maybe you were, but you knew enough to avoid the cameras.”
“I really do not frequent bars and nightclubs enough to memorize where their cameras are located,” Rainer said.
“How do you know any of the places where they were last seen were bars?” Ezekiel asked.
“Were they?”
“Some. Of the places we have footage from there was also a coffee shop, a hardware store and a gas station.”
Rainer finished his beer and dropped the bottle in the trash by the sink. “So, you have nothing,” he said.
Ezekiel stepped in close to him, ducked his head and said softly beside his ear, “I have Robert Weaver.”
“Do you?” he asked. He smiled, but there was a flutter of alarm down low in his belly.
They had walked this ground before and for Ezekiel, Robert Weaver was his connection between Rainer and The Lamplighter. The difference between Ezekiel asking his questions at Rainer’s kitchen table all those months ago and him whispering it into his ear now was that now Ezekiel knew. Ezekiel could tell the police about Robert Weaver’s connection to The Lamplighter and it would give detectives on the case more evidence to look at that might lead to Rainer. He hadn’t and the only reason not to was because he was just as fascinated with Rainer as Rainer was with him. It was the nature of the game and that would have been cheating.
Still, the little touch of fear that awoke inside him at Ezekiel’s implied threat was thrilling. You never could be certain and Rainer had chose himself an unpredictable adversary.
“Well, I wouldn’t keep him too long or he’ll start stinking up the place,” Rainer said.
Ezekiel laughed softly. “When I get you—and you know I will—you think you’re still going to be laughing? Won’t that just chap your ass, being caught after all this time and locked up all because you couldn’t leave it alone? You just had to poke at me and that’s what’s going to nail you.”
Rainer put his hand up and lightly tapped Ezekiel’s chest for him to step back and give him some breathing room. “Let’s assume for the sake of argument that I am this killer you’re after,” he said. “What right would I have to be mad about it? I know the rules, so why the sour grapes? When you walk down my streets, you know the risk you’re taking. You could die. If I walk down yours and you catch me? It’s the risk I take. That’s the game.”
“Murder in the Dark,” Ezekiel said.
Rainer nodded. “Catch me if you can,” he said, light and taunting.
“Hypothetically, of course.”
“Yes, hypothetically.”
“Why don’t you just admit it?”
Rainer laughed. “And forfeit? No. But I’m starting to think it might all end in a draw anyway, so don’t lose heart.”
They were interrupted when Sol appeared beside Ezekiel and threw an arm around his shoulders. “Hey, man, so why don’t you loosen that tie of yo
urs and come on into the other room so I can blow you?” he said.
He caught Rainer’s eye and dropped him a wink. Rainer’s eyes narrowed on him.
Ezekiel saw his reaction and smirked. He stepped away from him and put his own arm around Sol’s waist. “Sure, Sol,” he said. “Lead the way.”
Rainer watched them leave and walked over to the bar along the wall where the man in eyeliner was making a screwdriver for a tall woman with auburn hair. When he paused beside her, she looked him over, checking him out, then smiled and thanked the bartender as she took her drink and strode away. The bartender looked at him expectantly.
“’Lo. Getcha something?” he asked.
“Whiskey and soda would be fine,” Rainer decided. He didn’t much like mixed drinks. “What’s your name?” he asked as the man made his drink.
“Svarog,” he said.
“That’s different,” Rainer said. “I’m Rainer.”
“Yep,” Svarog said. He pushed a tall red plastic cup with Rainer’s drink in it across the bar to him. “S’what Mary said. ‘Lo.”
Rainer picked up the drink and sipped it. It was heavy on the whiskey. “Thank you.”
Svarog smiled at him. He had big blue eyes, straight black hair with streaks of purple in it and his smile was real and honest. There was no flirtation or coyness in his expression. “Welcome.”
A brunette woman walked over to them and leaned on the bar toward Svarog. “You wanna help me set up the drums?” she asked. “Everyone’s got drinks and shit, if they can’t figure out how to pour booze in a plastic cup on their own, they can go thirsty.”
“Sure, Dee,” Svarog said. He walked around the bar and they went into the big living room where the band was setting up.
Rainer drank his drink and watched the people. Mary had an interesting and diverse group of friends. Men and women, mostly young, mostly attractive and they seemed to all know each other. They all fit his preferred victim type as well, which was a shame. Now that he had met them and there was a link between them and him in Mary Caspian, his student, he couldn’t kill them even if he wanted to.
Watching them in their silly sweaters, Christmas lights glinting off their lovely faces, smiling and laughing, swaying to the music, he felt a little like a cat trapped on the other side of a glass door from an aviary.
He didn’t see Ezekiel or Sol anywhere.
He reached over the bar and poured more whiskey into his cup as Trichto made his way through the kitchen door and walked over to him. “He means cocaine, you know,” he said.
Rainer lifted his brows in question and drank his whiskey. Trichto didn’t bother with a cup. He picked up a bottle that was half full, pulled the pouring spout out of it and took a drink.
“Sol. He’s not really going to blow him,” Trichto explained. “Officer Happy there likes coke and Sol gets it for him. You know, blow? Yeah, took me a while to figure out what that was about, too, which is sad because I’m supposed to be smart, but then Sol’s supposed to be straight and there’s Mala, so I think it’s understandable that it took me a minute. Anyway, you looked pretty upset about it, so I thought someone should tell you.”
“I’m fine,” Rainer said.
Trichto nodded. “Me, too, but no one ever believes me when I say so. I’m not supposed to have any coke. Stimulants. I guess I react badly according to some people. But I’m fine.”
“Oh, yeah?” Rainer said. “Where did they go?”
“Just down the hall to Sol and Mary’s room,” Trichto said. He raised his bottle to drink and Rainer took his other hand. “Hey, what are—”
Rainer tugged his hand and walked out of the kitchen, pulling him along and Trichto hurrying after him. He hummed “Winter Wonderland” to himself as they went down the hallway. Sol’s room was on the left at the end and the door was cracked open. He could hear Ezekiel laughing as they reached it. Without knocking, he pushed the door open and walked inside with Trichto looking over his shoulder.
Sol and Mala were sharing a big overstuffed chair against the wall, Ezekiel was sitting in a desk chair with wheels and Mary was laying crossways at the foot of the bed with her head hanging off the side. She saw Rainer and Trichto first and sat up. There was a cedar chest at the foot of the bed with a couple of mirrors on it streaked with lines of coke, a couple of single-edged razorblades and a sandwich bag containing more of the white powder.
Mary looked from Rainer to Trichto and back. “Oh, shit,” she said. “Mr. Bryssengur, this isn’t… okay, it’s exactly what it looks like, but please don’t say anything or call the cops or get me expelled or anything. It’s um… It’s a party, right?”
“I’m not going to say anything,” he said.
Ezekiel had a rolled up dollar bill held between his fingers like a cigarette and Rainer held his hand out for it. He gave it to him and Rainer walked over to the cedar chest, crouched on his heels and snorted a line. The rush made him blink. He pinched his nose and sniffed then passed the straw back to Trichto.
“Oh, no, don’t give him that,” Mary said.
Ignoring her, Trichto took it and knelt with Rainer to do a line. Rainer got the impression he did it mostly out of spite.
“Merry Christmas,” Rainer said, clapping Trichto on the shoulder.
“Well, okay, but when he starts yammering at you about the Indigenous Peoples of Wherever at a million miles an hour for like, ever, don’t come crying to me,” Mary said. “Or when he gets super paranoid like he does about the sand. That shit is crazy. Thank God we’re not at the beach.”
“Yeah, thank God,” Trichto said, with feeling. “Mary, I’m fine.”
“Whatever you say, Tri-Daddy,” Mary said.
Trichto nodded, sniffed, sniffed again and wiped at his nose and he was keeping it together. He was fine, thank you very much. “Oh, damn it, I shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that. This is bad. This is so bad.”
Mary, Mala and Sol all laughed and Mala got up and went to Sol’s desk and picked up a glass pipe that was next to the computer. He took a baggy from his pocket and began packing the bowl of the pipe with marijuana.
“You’ll be okay,” Mala told Trichto. “Smoke a bowl with me, you’ll mellow out and it’s coke; it won’t last that long.”
Trichto took the pipe when Mala passed it to him and smoked. Gradually, as the smoke lingered in his lungs and the drug got into his blood to do its magic, he began to relax. He let the smoke out and offered the pipe back to Mala. Mala lit it again and smoked, passed it back and they did that until the weed was gone.
Out in the apartment, someone started playing a guitar. “We should go back to the party,” Mary said. She didn’t move.
Rainer used the dollar bill straw again, did another line, then passed it back to Ezekiel and stood up. A voice joined the guitar and the drum music and it wasn’t bad. It was actually really good. He left the room and went toward the sound, followed the drum beats and the wailing, oddly sexual sound of that voice down the hallway, back toward the living room. Someone followed him, but he didn’t care who. He was high and drawn to the music and it was wonderful and someone following him didn’t matter.
“I think you left your date back there,” Ezekiel said as he came up behind him.
Rainer turned to him and grinned as he took Ezekiel’s hand. He never considered for a moment that he would object. Rainer pulled him into the room toward the people who were moving in time to the music and clapping.
“Dance with me,” he said.
Ezekiel blinked at him in surprise and looked around. “Here?”
“Right here,” Rainer agreed. He took Ezekiel’s other hand and knitted their fingers together. “Right now. I’ll even let you lead.”
“You want to ballroom dance?” Ezekiel asked, incredulous.
Rainer laughed. “Sure. Do you know how to waltz?”
“What? No.” Ezekiel tried to take his hands back, but Rainer tightened his grip and stepped in close to him and he sto
pped. “What are you doing, Rainer?”
“I’m high, we’re at a party—granted, it’s a party with a ridiculous theme, but it’s a party. I want to move and my beloved brother made me promise not to fuck any strangers here tonight, and there’s good music, so dancing it is. And I want to dance with you. It’s like fucking without the penetration. No, actually that’s a shit analogy, but we should do it anyway because I want to.”
Ezekiel smiled slowly, stepped into him and moved with him a little, their fingers still linked. “And because you want to, it’s very important that we do it immediately.”
“Well, you do keep telling me what a psychopath I am. I have to keep up appearances,” Rainer said. “By the way, you never did answer my question the other day.”
Still holding his hand, Ezekiel put his arm around him, Rainer’s hand held against the small of his own back. “What question was that?”
“What does it feel like to shoot someone?” Rainer asked, leaning in toward him so close he could feel Ezekiel’s breath on his face. “To shoot them dead, what’s that like?”
“You asked me that… forever ago,” Ezekiel said.
“And you never answered me,” Rainer said. He stepped back and used the position of his arm behind his back to turn away from Ezekiel. It was almost like ballroom dancing, he thought, and smiled.
Ezekiel pulled his hand, making Rainer spin back to him with a snap. Rainer put his hand out and caught himself against Ezekiel’s chest, laughing. “I’ve shot suspects before,” he said. “When they try to run, when they pull a weapon, when there’s no other choice.”
Rainer smoothed his hands up the front of Ezekiel’s jacket. “You kill and call it justice. You have conviction,” he said softly. “That’s your reason and maybe it’s a good one, but you’re sating a need. In that way, you’re the same.”
“I’m nothing like you,” Ezekiel said.
