Killer of Killers

by Mark M. DeRobertis

  Susie’s eyes darted from side to side, and her skin blushed to a darker shade of chocolate. “Yeah, I know about it,” she admitted.

  “Does it cause people to become crazy killers, and then Soriah gets them off the hook?”

  “Not everyone.”

  “Not everyone gets off the hook, or not everyone becomes a crazy killer?”

  “Not everyone becomes a crazy killer.”

  “Why not?”

  Just as he asked, Trent remembered Susie’s split lip from this morning’s altercation. Yet now, as he beheld her luscious mouth up close, there was no evidence it ever happened. No scab, no bruise, nothing. “Wait a minute. What happened to your busted lip?”

  “It healed.”

  “Yeah, I see that, and you know what? So did the cuts on my face.”

  Susie looked away, briefly, but it was enough to convince Trent that she had used the medicine on herself and on him, as well.

  “Come on, Susie, spill it. What’s with this stuff? If you put some of it in me, I need to know more about it.”

  “Well, I’m not supposed to have any,” Susie confessed. “None of us are. We’re not part of the treatment program, but we managed to get some anyway.”

  “What do you mean, ‘we’?”

  “The Global Girls.”

  “How many of you?”

  “Well, all of us. Soriah doesn’t know. If he did, we’d be in big trouble.” She lowered her chin to her chest, but at the same time looked up at Trent from the corner of her eye.

  “Okay, let’s go back to why it doesn’t affect everyone violently. Are you sure? Do you know why?”

  “It only affects people that way if they’re hotheads already. If you don’t want to hurt anyone, you won’t. That’s what Jason said.”

  “Jason?” Trent frowned. “So who’s Jason?” This was getting more complicated with every turn. “Is he another Soriah Special?”

  “No, silly.” Susie smiled and playfully slapped Trent’s chest. “Jason’s the one who took over for Dr. Bernstein.”

  “Dr. Bernstein,” Trent echoed. “The same Bernstein that Stiles killed?”

  “Yeah, Dr. Bernstein. I told you his twin daughters were Global Girls, remember? They hooked us up.”

  Trent recalled their talk at the club. “You said that Flint’s wife was a Global Girl, too, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did she have any of this stuff?”

  “Sure, but she wasn’t supposed to, either. She left the Global Girls just after I got there to marry Flint. He was in the treatment program.”

  “Stiles and Flint. Were they using the drug as a bodybuilding steroid, or were they injured somehow?”

  “I don’t know about all of that,” Susie said. “All I know is Flint killed her right after she married him.”

  “Did they meet at the club?”

  “Yeah, she was the most popular girl when I started.”

  Trent thought about Soriah’s reference. “Why are the people using this stuff called Eternals?”

  “An Eternal is someone who gets treatment without ever stopping.”

  “For what purpose?”

  Susie took a deep breath and continued. “They say that one dose can heal you from minor injuries, like it did for my lip and the cuts on your face. But they’ve been studying the effects of indefinite treatments. Everyone knows about how steroids build up your body. That’s old news. The secret that they’re working on now is...”

  Susie hesitated, as if unwanted listeners were present. Then she whispered, “I’m really not supposed to be talking about it.”

  Trent wasn’t ready to change the subject. “You already said you’re not even supposed to have any. What if Soriah found out? What would he do?”

  “Probably send his Specials. But they’ll have to kill me before I let them take it away.”

  “Kill you? You can’t mean it.” Trent shook his head. “Look, Susie,” he said with a soft but firm voice. “What is this stuff? Is it some kind of injection or what?”

  “Yes, but the needles are clean. You use them one time. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Okay, I’m not worried, but I need to know what this treatment program is all about. Why can’t you tell me?”

  “I’ll tell you all about it,” Susie declared.

  “You will?”

  “Yeah, I was going to anyway.”

  Before she could start, Trent detected an acrid smell. “Something’s burning,” he spouted, turning his head in search of smoke.

  “Our dinner!” Susie leaped away in a mad dash to the kitchen.

  Once she saved her meal, Susie displayed the skill of a master chef. “Sit down, baby. I hope you’re hungry, cuz I was makin’ this for you. It’s time you learned this little lady can do a few other things besides lap dance.”

  Trent was famished, and he chose to postpone his quest for answers. It was time to relax and appreciate the feast Susie cooked for him without even knowing if he’d be there to eat it.

  Susie lit candles and decked the table with roses clipped, she confessed, from the garden outside the building. The red tablecloth was imported from Syria, she explained, even as Trent thought it looked a lot like the ones in the room where they met. Soft music set the mood, and the view from the window presented a golden New York skyline.

  A silent diner was Trent, but Susie loved to talk. She revealed that the Global Room had been shut down temporarily as a result of yesterday’s incident. When questioned by police, the girls concurred that Flint was sleeping at his table, as usual, when their shift ended. Whatever happened after they departed was anyone’s guess.

  It was the clean-up crew who discovered the dead men inside the wrecked room, and that’s all they knew. Nameless administrators controlled the ensuing investigation. The official report claimed the famous actor choked to death while under the influence of illicit drugs. Topu Tacau’s unfortunate demise never made the news.

  Trent learned Susie’s Q stood for Quinn, and she began her career at a strip club in lower Manhattan. Her dazzling appearance and superb stage presence convinced a Flip Flop recruiter she belonged with the best. Being invited to join the renowned Global Girls was an honor, and the big money made it an easy decision.

  After some disastrous relationships with the wrong men, Susie decided to swing the other way when she met Connie Perez. A few months into the relationship, Connie proved no less possessive than the men Susie had dated. The Flip Flop management made it clear they didn’t like the jealous Latina. Too many times she made a nuisance of herself by hanging around the club, disapproving of Susie’s exotic gig. Susie laughed with Trent when she described Connie being thrown out, more often than not, quite forcibly.

  “Now, they’re even kicking her out of my own apartment,” Susie said, referring to the episode earlier that day.

  Trent deliberately avoided talking about himself, telling Susie only that he was a martial arts black belt and that he trained in Japan. But Susie was not naïve. She asked, “You’re some kind of hit man, aren’t you?” Her face brightened, her eyes widened.

  Trent was quick to answer, “No. A hit man kills for money.”

  Susie frowned. “So no one pays you?”

  “No.”

  “Then why do you do it?”

  “For justice.”

  Susie paused with a puzzled expression. “So anyone who’s a murderer, and gets away with it... They better watch out for you, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s right.” Trent liked the sound of that.

  “We waited a long time for Flint to pay for what he did. Come to think of it...it was a real long time. What took you so long?”

  Trent had no answer. Taking so long was something he regretted. Finally, with a low voice, he said, “I wish I didn’t take so long.”

  Susie patted his hand. “It’s okay, baby, you got him.”

  Trent looked into her eyes. “Yeah, I got him.”

  “What about Benjamin?
You killed him, too, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And TT. Did you know TT was a killer?”

  “Well, he was trying his best to kill me.”

  “I saw him kill a man one night.” Susie paused again, and then announced, “I know exactly what you are.”

  Trent braced for another surprise. “What?”

  “You’re a killer of killers,” she proclaimed as a matter of fact.

  The words hit home for Trent, but he didn’t comment. He simply enjoyed her charming personality and accepted the stark assertion.

  Susie rendered a hearty yet sensuous smile, as if being a killer’s woman excited her, and Trent was relieved she didn’t pry any further. After dinner, he helped with clean up, and before long the bedroom became their next stop. Talking ceased, and tender moments were next on the menu. Once they embraced, their moves were automatic. The night, spent in erotic splendor, became morning, and the sunrise found them soundly asleep.

  Trent awoke first, as he was in the habit of doing, since not even the proverbial pin dropped without snaring him from the deepest slumber. He gazed upon the lovely dark-skinned lady and gently dragged the locks from her face. Susie woke with a smile. “What time is it?” she asked, sleepily.

  “Oh, about six. Going somewhere?”

  “It’s time.” She slipped from the bed and into the bathroom. Moments later, she returned with a syringe in her hand.

  Trent didn’t have to ask. “Don’t tell me. It’s your miracle medicine.” Averse to drugs his whole life, he wasn’t sure how to react.

  “You have to take a shot every morning,” Susie said while seating herself on the edge of the bed. Trent sat up and watched with revulsion as she pierced her upper thigh. “Oooohhh,” she crooned. But after a minute, she hurried back to the bathroom and reappeared with another dose. She sat next to Trent and said, “Your turn.”

  Trent saw the point against his shoulder. “Hey, wait a minute!” He plucked the syringe from her hand. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Taking care of you, baby. Don’t you want to live forever?”

  “You’re crazy. No one lives forever.”

  “It used to be no one did. But now people do.”

  “Is that what this Jason guy told you?”

  “It’s the secret of the medicine. When you use it every day it works in your body like when it heals a cut. It cures your blood, and your bones, and a bunch of other stuff Jason said that I forget. What I remember most is that it stops you from getting old...and from getting sick, too.”

  Trying to absorb the words he just heard, Trent remained silent.

  Susie eyed him keenly and then asked, “Don’t you think it’s worth it? We can stay young forever. Don’t you want that?”

  Trent needed to know more. “What’s this Jason’s last name?”

  “He’s Dr. Jason Benson. And he’s the smartest man I ever met.”

  “How do you know he’s not pulling a fast one on you girls?”

  “Because why else are all the famous people using it?”

  “I would have guessed to stay in shape,” Trent surmised. “You know...the athletes and the movie stars. It’s an anabolic steroid of some kind, right?”

  “I don’t know what’s in it, but I do know they all use it. And I know something else, too.”

  After a pause, Trent realized she wasn’t going to say anything more until he said the obligatory word. “What?” he asked testily.

  “They’re experimenting to make it reverse aging. That’s what Soriah wants more than anything.”

  “Well, that makes sense. Otherwise, he’d be living forever in a mummified body. But I still don’t believe it. I don’t trust this Jason Benson. He sounds like a con man to me.”

  Susie held his shoulders and kissed his cheek. “You can trust me, baby. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. That’s why I gave you a shot when I brought you home. It healed you up real good.”

  “Yeah, didn’t it.” A doubting Trent began to give the notion credence as he remembered the gold medallions and the symbols on Soriah’s tie. “Flint’s medallion... It was in my pocket. Do you have it?”

  “Yeah, it’s right here.” She reached into her dresser drawer and handed him the necklace.

  “These medallions...” Trent showed her the sideways figure eight. “Do you recognize that symbol?”

  “Anyone wearing that means they’re an Eternal,” Susie explained. “They go to the Flip Flop Club to receive their supply, but they have to be wearing one of those.”

  Trent nodded. “So that’s why so many rich people go to that club. I thought it was just a celebrity hot spot. They’re replenishing their stock. How do they even know it works?”

  “The lab makes sure.”

  “Where is this lab?”

  “Somewhere in Minnesota is all I know. I’ve never been there. It’s where Jason works. He comes to see us at the club every once in a while.”

  Trent gave more thought to the matter, but he had already reached a conclusion long before. “Susie, there’s a few more things you know I have to do. Appointments I have to keep.”

  “Do you have to leave right now?” She wrapped her arms around him and straddled his lap, as she did at the club.

  “Well, I don’t have to leave right this minute,” he conceded.

  “Good,” Susie whispered. It was clear she had plans for the rest of the morning, and she started right away.

  * * * *

  Time passed, and late evening ended the romantic interlude for Trent. The clock reminded him it was time to go. It was after midnight, and before sleep arrived, he reluctantly pried himself from Susie’s arms.

  At the door, Trent promised he would see her again the next time he returned to New York. Nobody’s fool, Susie made him promise that he would return to New York. He promised.

  But for now, it was time to refocus on his agenda, and the name next on his list was Nick Martin. The rock star’s performance in Minneapolis neared, and Trent expected to be there on opening night. The state senator in St. Paul also shared a large part of his mind. If Trent’s plan materialized, the Twin Cities would host twin executions.

  This wonder drug, however, was an unexpected variable. Trent wanted to learn more to see if there was any truth to this anti-aging nonsense but wasn’t sure how to proceed. He thought about calling Samantha Jones. She and her brother had something to do with it. What was their connection? Did they work for this Manoukian guy to whom Soriah referred? The questions in his head kept churning.

  Chapter Seven

  Everybody’s Doing It

  Trent stepped from the taxicab, paid the driver, and strolled toward his hotel. When he reached his suite, he opened the door just a little more slowly than usual. Entering cautiously, he noted the front room tidy, courtesy of room service, but he also noticed the accordion divider to the bedroom sealed tight. That was atypical.

  Next, Trent caught the scent in the air. It was a woman’s perfume, and it was distinctly different than Susie’s. He recognized the fragrance—from the airplane when he met the blond detective. Samantha Jones had been in this room. Smiling, he wondered what was her objective, trailing him to New York. Was she here to stop him? If so, she was too late. In his heart, Trent was pleased for the unexpected visit. He wanted to know what role Samantha played in Soriah’s multi-ringed circus, but that wasn’t the only reason he looked forward to seeing her again.

  Trent opened the screen, and there lay a sleeping beauty in the bed. It was the fair-haired Samantha Jones. Noticing her clothes on the chair, he walked beside the mattress and said, “Hello, Miss Jones.”

  Samantha opened her eyes. They didn’t look tired. “What took so long?” she asked. “I’ve been waiting all night.”

  “You must be an unusually trusting person,” Trent remarked, “to be sleeping in a strange man’s hotel room.”

  Samantha smiled. “You’re not so strange. And I’m not so trusting.”
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  She folded back the covers and revealed a voluptuous figure clad only in a beige camisole. Although the skimpy silk hardly concealed her womanhood, it was the revolver that snared Trent’s attention. “What are you going to do with that?” he asked.

  Samantha’s eyes diverted to the gun in her hand, and then she sat up against the headboard. “A girl can’t be too careful,” she quipped.

  Trent crossed his arms. “How is it you found me here?”

  “I’m a detective,” she reminded him. “Remember?”

  Looking at her right now, it wasn’t so easy to remember, but Trent knew better than to say that.

  She added, “I tracked you down using the old-fashioned police method.”

  “Which is...”

  “The computer...”

  “What else did you find out?”

  “I found out you were a master sensei at Tokyo’s Academy of Budo Ju Jitsu. They called you Tora. That means Tiger, right?”

  Trent lowered his gaze to the floor. The name meant more to him than anyone could ever understand, and this was the first time he heard it outside of Japan. He replied, near inaudibly, “I’m just Trent, now.”

  “You were well-respected in Japan.”

  “Just why are you so curious about me?”

  “Because I needed to make sure you don’t work for Abraham Soriah. Do you know who he is?”

  “Yes, he’s a billionaire whacko who thinks he owns the world. But you could have just asked me.”

  “I asked you on the airplane, and you dodged every question like a boxer in a prizefight. Or should I say like a master of judo?”

  “Ju Jitsu,” Trent specified.

  “You were the best in Japan, from what I heard. Or certainly the best at Tokyo’s Shoji Dojo.”

  Trent scrunched his eyes. “Did you talk to Shoji?”

  Samantha grinned. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

  Trent noted her meaning. “Thanks for that.” What he didn’t need at this point was his past catching up to his present, or his present staining his past. He walked to the curtains, pushed them aside, and opened the doors to the balcony. Stepping out, Trent felt a cool breeze flow over his face, and he recalled a midnight visit to the terrace of his Tokyo residence. He looked into the starry sky and was pleased to see a full moon peeking through drifting clouds to join him in the memory.