Aaron Conners - Tex Murphy 02

by Under a Killing Moon

  “I was not allowed to take the book with me from the library, and when I returned later to take another look at the book and the parchment, they had mysteriously disappeared.

  Despite diligent searching, I never did see it again. My interest, however, was piqued.

  Since that day, I have been absorbed in learning the history behind the contents of the parchment.

  “As to the brotherhood’s self proclaimed manifest destiny, I have gleaned only bits and pieces, though I have no doubt that it’s clearly stated in the pages of the Secret Doctrine.

  Since the origin of the order, the names and acts of the founders have been passed down orally for hundreds of generations. It wasn’t until the third century AD that the genealogy, philosophy, and icons were set in print. A group of men, known to outsiders as the Docetists, composed an expansive tome, attempting to summarise the order’s history and doctrine. This text became known as the Secret Doctrine.

  “I have never seen a verified copy of the text, though several reputedly authentic excerpts have come to my attention. Regardless, from what I have read, been told, and overheard, I’ve assembled a partial description of the brotherhood’s objectives, as they are contained in the prophecies within the sacred text.

  “The Secret Doctrine describes an entity called the Incubus, which the Brotherhood would summon when all its prophecies had come to pass. The Incubus would then create something or someone that translates literally to the Moon Child. This Moon Child would be the destroyer of the impure and the guardian of the pure and faithful.”

  The mention of the Moon Child made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “Isn’t the Moon Child the name of that satellite resort? The one used by the crusade?”

  The Professor nodded solemnly. “It is unthinkable that the name is a coincidence. And I can infer only one of two things because of it: Either the leaders of the Crusade for Genetic Purity have somehow obtained a copy of the Secret Doctrine, and, like Hitler before them, are attempting to incorporate his teachings into their own agenda, or the brotherhood is behind the crusade and has reached a point where they no longer feel it necessary to hide themselves. I’m inclined to believe the latter.”

  We sat in silence for some time. It sounded to me like this cult, the Brotherhood of Purity, was planning on starting another Holocaust. There was still something the Professor hadn’t explained. I spoke up. “What about the statuette I found? How does it fit into all this? And you have any idea who Countess could have been?”

  Professor Perriman reached for his pipe and used it to gesture with.

  “As to the identity of the Countess, I have no idea. Many rich and powerful people are affiliated with the brotherhood. As to the Habuh, it is as ancient as the brotherhood itself. Apparently, it was kept by the order for many generations, but was lost or stolen at some point during the early to mid-20th century. The brotherhood has been looking for it ever since, desperately over the past few years. I had assumed-and hoped-that it was lost forever. But, from what you told me, it appears they’ve recovered it.”

  “But why is it so important to them?”

  The professor shrugged. “Its purpose may be purely symbolic, or it may have some practical use in matters of the occult. I won’t bore you with all the details, but the Secret Doctrine teaches that the Earth is wrapped in layers of etheric forces. A form of energy, called vril, may be derived from these forces. Occult theorists speculate that vril could be used to manipulate the astral plane, as well as to tap into the telluric currents that crisscross like a grid all over the etheric body. But vril is said to be like any other form of energy-it must be channelled to be useful. Perhaps the Habuh is the controller.”

  The professor set his pipe down and folded his arms. “But that’s neither here nor there.

  We may never learn its purpose. The fact is that the brotherhood seems to be preparing for the culmination of thousands of years of waiting. What their plans are, and when they will be set into motion, I don’t know. I can only hope that they overestimate the power of their prophecies and fail, as the Nazis failed.”

  Professor Perriman leaned forward and clasped his hands tightly.

  “If they succeed… God help us.”

  UAKM - Chapter 17

  Time seemed to have stood still during my conversation with the professor. To my surprise, I checked my watch and saw that I’d have to hurry or I’d miss my 3 o’clock appointment with Lowell Percival. I thanked Professor Perriman and excused myself.

  As I returned to my speeder, I tried to decide if I’d just become privy to the occult blueprint for the end of the world, or wasted a couple of hours on a delusional, peyote-eating conspiracy theorist. Maybe I didn’t want to believe what Professor Perriman had told me. It all seemed too incredible. The idea that a secret cult could manipulate history and wield almost limitless power-without being publicly exposed-was the kind of tripe you read about while standing in line at a grocery store. But he was a highly educated, respected authority telling me it was so.

  I was still trying to digest it all when I arrived at Lowell Percival Enterprises. I made my way through security and up to the fifty-first floor. Alaynah Moore was sitting at her post and looking especially attractive. She seemed to be wearing just a little more makeup than when I’d seen her the day before, and her hair looked like it had been professionally styled. Even though my interest in her had petered out, it was good to know that I still had an effect on the occasional dame.

  As I approached her desk, I detected a scent of perfume that hadn’t been there before…

  expensive and alluring. There was only one reason why women wore perfume like that.

  Alaynah had also traded in her knit top and blazer for a form-fitting cashmere dress with the neckline that dove like a hungry kingfisher.

  “You look lovely today.”

  Alaynah’s eyes darted instinctively toward her cleavage, then back at me.

  “Thanks. So do you.”

  I knew I didn’t, but I wasn’t going to get into a flirtatious debate. “Is Mr Percival in?”

  Alaynah seemed almost startled by the question. “What?… Oh, yes. One second.”

  She turned to the paging device and spoke quietly into it. I looked away politely and happened to notice a light blue manila envelope on the desk. It was sealed and marked

  “Genetic Research Systems: Top Secret, Attention: Lowell Percival ONLY.” Alaynah turned back to face me. “He’s expecting you. Right through the door.”

  I tipped my hat and started toward Percival’s office. I could feel Alaynah watching me all the way there. After a brief knock on the door, I opened it and walked in.

  Lowell Percival stood up from behind his monstrous desk and walked around it to greet me. He was even shorter than I remembered, no taller than five-six, and looked as delicate as ever, despite extra padding in the shoulders of his expensively tailored blue pinstriped suit. His hair was combed straight back and thinning noticeably, but his trademark Vandyck beard was still jet-black. Behind new, almost invisible wire frame glasses, his eyes were as dark and intimidating as ever. Satan’s accountant.

  He shook my hand aggressively and guided me to a chair, before making a wide turn back to his own seat behind the desk. His voice was slightly high-pitched and precise.

  He had no discernible accent and used every word intentionally and deliberately, never uttering a single filler noise, such as “uh” or “um”.

  “Mr Tex Murphy. How long has it been? Three years?”

  “Five, actually.”

  Percival sighed and shook his head. “Where does the time go?” He shifted comfortably in his oversized seat and tapped his right forefinger several times on the leather armrest.

  “What can I do for you? You’re not looking for employment, certainly. I would imagine there are ample opportunities for a top-notch detective like yourself.”

  He certainly was an excellent schmoozer. I almost believed him, and I was an award-winning cynic. Maybe
that explained why he was a multibillionaire, and I was late on my rent.

  “I’m not here looking for work, Mr Percival. I ran across your name in a strange place, and I wanted to ask you about it.”

  Percival spread his hands out respectively. “Please. I’m at your service.”

  I extracted the newspaper clipping with the photo of the statuette from my coat pocket, unfolded it, and passed it across to him. “What can you tell me about the bird?”

  Percival studied the clipping for what seemed like a long time, then handed it back to me. “Not a great deal more than what is stated in the article.”

  I folded the paper and replaced it. Maybe he was lying, maybe he wasn’t. I had a hard time reading him. With almost anyone else, I would’ve called his bluff. Unfortunately, metaphors didn’t wash with Lowell Percival. I decided to try my second line of questioning and hope that he was in a cooperative mood.

  “Tell me about Eddie Ching.”

  Percival didn’t blink. “I don’t know him.”

  “He knows you. Your name was included on a list of potential buyers of a certain artefact. I have a hunch you were in the running for the statuette in the newspaper photo.”

  Percival looked vaguely interested, but didn’t respond until he’d given it a lot of thought.

  “Very well. I should clarify. I don’t know Mr Ching personally-I know of him.”

  “Who is he?”

  Percival gazed across his desk at me like a chess player matching wits with a competent, though lesser, opponent. “He’s a…. an importer. His speciality is obtaining certain… how shall I put this?… collectibles, which he then makes available to his clientele. The statuette was one of these collectible.”

  “So you did want it. Why?”

  Percival opened his arms and gestured flamboyantly. “Why does anyone want anything?

  Appreciation of beauty, the desire to own a magnificent and utterly unique work of art. I am wealthy beyond comprehension. I have worked diligently my entire life, and for what? So that I may call just such an object my own. There are few things remaining in this existence that fill me with wonderment and joy. Art can affect me that way.”

  His explanation seemed genuine. I didn’t know Percival that well, but he struck me as the type of person who was never uninformed. If what Professor Perriman had told me was the truth, and he hadn’t just been mixing hallucinogens with excessive role playing, the statuette was much more than a run-of-the-mill collectible. It seemed almost inconceivable that Percival would bid (millions, undoubtedly) for the statuette and not know its significance. I had to find out.

  “I’ve heard statuette is pretty valuable.”

  Percival smiled patronizingly. “That is a gross understatement. In theory, it is priceless…

  though theories tend to break down at the bargaining table.”

  “I’ve also heard that it may have magical powers.”

  Percival laughed out loud. “Ah, yes… magic. That was my esoteric motivation for wanting the statuette. With it, I would master legerdemain and become a mighty wizard!”

  Still laughing, Percival removed his glasses and dried his eyes. I felt as though I were being mocked. Percival replaced his glasses and looked over at me. “You seem to have heard a great deal about the statuette. What else do you know?”

  I didn’t feel like dancing around the subject any more. “Some people think that it’s a sacred object, worshipped by an ancient cult known as the Brotherhood of Purity.”

  Percival lifted his eyebrows and pursed his lips. “Really? A cult?”

  “That’s just what I’ve heard. I don’t necessarily think there’s anything to it.”

  Percival nodded sympathetically, then sat up in his chair. “Why don’t you?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Sounds like a lot of hocus-pocus to me. It’s like that group of devil worshippers the cops busted a couple of months ago. Turned out to be a bunch of pimply faced teenagers, sitting around with a few dead chickens, burning incense and drinking beer. I just don’t buy the whole illuminati, trilateral commission thing.”

  The billionaire smiled approvingly. “It is good to know that there are still reasonable men in this world. Though I must admit, I have always had a somewhat morbid passing interest in the occult, and I, too, have heard of this Brotherhood of Purity. It is a fascinating idea, though I believe that it, like the concept of illuminati, is by and large fictional. As for the actual significance of the statuette, that was irrelevant to me.”

  “The source who told me about the occult also said that the Crusade for Genetic Purity might be connected to the Brotherhood of Purity. Do you know anything about that?”

  Percival put his fingertips together and pressed them lightly against his chin. “I find it difficult to believe. The crusade is such a public organisation and, from what I know, the brotherhood has always striven for total secrecy. If it actually exists, that is.”

  I nodded and tried to think if there was anything else I wanted to ask. Percival and I seemed to have similar opinions of the occult. Now if we only had similar incomes.

  “Well, Mr Percival, I appreciate your time.”

  I stood up and glanced around the office. On the wall behind the desk, I spotted a framed photograph of Percival shaking hands with the Reverend Claude Shepherd, the leader of the Crusade for Genetic Purity. I suddenly wondered if Percival had come clean with me.

  “Looks like you’ve done alright for yourself since we last met.”

  Percival came around the side of the desk and shook my hand. “I hope the success has been mutual. I enjoyed our visit.”

  Trying to think of a snappy rejoinder, I walked to the door, and Percival opened it for me. I paused before leaving.

  “Do you have the statuette?”

  Percival shook his head. “I wish I did. I think it would look especially nice on that marble stand, next to the window.”

  I thanked him, and he closed the door behind me. Alaynah turned and smiled. “How did it go?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  She smiled again and lowered her voice. “Mr Percival seems to have that effect on most people. So, when are you going to take me out for another drink? I think I might be free this evening.”

  Despite having decided against pursuing anything amorous with Alaynah, I had a good reason to buy her a few drinks, though I’d have to find some money first. She probably handled some, if not all, of Percival’s correspondence. If I got her drunk, maybe she’d have something interesting to tell me about her employer. I was also curious about the light blue manila envelope from Genetic Research Systems still lying on her desk.

  “What time are you off? I can swing by and pick you up.”

  Alaynah smiled, glad to see that I’d finally come around. “Five o’clock.”

  I grinned suavely. “I won’t be late.”

  I said goodbye and walked back to the elevator. Five minutes later, I beeped off the alarm on the speeder and climbed inside. I was actually feeling eager. Maybe I’d jumped to conclusions with Alaynah. It was something we’d have to discuss. I knew I was being weak, but a beautiful woman with a great figure and a possible trove of information was almost too much for a celibate PI with no leads. I decided to make a quick trip back to the office, take a shower, dust off the bottle of Cologne, maybe even shave.

  I lifted off and began to rise above the sunset. Turning the speeder in the direction of my office, I accelerated and glanced into my rearview mirror. Behind me, the Lowell Percival Enterprises building blew into a billion pieces.

  UAKM Chapter 18

  The City went haywire. Immediately, a deafening cacophony of alarms went off. A massive dust cloud billowed from ground zero, then slowly dissipated, revealing piles of debris, corpses, and body parts scattered in all directions. Passersby who had survived the blast lay on the street and sidewalks, some dying, others only stunned. Within minutes, the area was flooded with fire department personnel, policemen, and horrified onlookers
. The explosion had not only gutted the entire LPE skyscraper, but it had taken out most of the surrounding block. Few, if any, survivors would be pulled out of the Percival building. I suddenly remembered talking to at Alaynah and Percival. Now, only minutes later, they were both almost certainly dead.

  I set my speeder down several blocks away and walked toward the destruction in a semi-stupor. On every side, emergency personnel were tending to the wounded. I’d never had the dubious honour of serving in the war, but this was what I’d imagined it would be like. Dazed workers from nearby buildings were streaming out to survey the damage.

  Television vehicles began to appear, and the airspace was jammed with media craft.

  Stopping just outside the perimeter of debris, I considered getting out of the way and returning to my office, but the awesome spectacle of the annihilated skyscraper held me fast. After several minutes, I caught sight of a familiar face. Mac Malden, along with most of the SFPD, was beginning to question eyewitnesses.

  I approach Mac, who was talking to a shell-shocked-looking young woman. When he was done, he looked up to see me and walked over. “Can you believe this?”

  I shook my head. My stomach was starting to get queasy.

  Mac pulled out a pack of Merits. “What’re you doing down here? Just lucky?”

  Lucky was exactly how I was feeling. It had only just occurred to me that I’d been inside the building about three minutes before it turned to dust. If I’d stepped into the bathroom, or talked to Alaynah a while longer… I didn’t want to think about it.

  “I was in the building.”

  Mac lit his cigarette. “When?”

  “A few minutes ago.”

  The cop glanced at me, his eyes wider than I ever thought they could be. “@#%$.”