Evolution of a Killer

by Robert Ullrich

  “Fair enough,” said Lazarus, “one more thing.”

  “Yes, Mr. Johnson?”

  “Ya wanna know the best part?”

  “What, exactly, would that be?” asked Ramon.

  “Yer brother is payin’ the fees to find yer money so he can return it to ya. Hell, ya ain’t gonna be out a thin dime on this one.” Lazarus grinned and winked at Torano, who couldn’t help but chuckle. The big cowboy was right. If the Chameleon found the money, he would get it back with no fee.

  “Well then, I best be gettin,” said Lazarus as he tipped his Stetson to the men in the room and headed out the door, Langston on his heels, looking back over his shoulder.

  *****

  Lazarus was right about Garza telling Torano. He’d readily admitted the Chameleon was working under contract for him. He told his brother he’d discovered the missing money about a month ago. He apologized for not telling him sooner, but he felt that he needed to fix this, since it happened in his bank. Coincidentally, Garza had told his brother he believed the embezzler to be one of his female employees. Lazarus had inadvertently helped confirm the suspicion to Torano when he was in Garza’s condo.

  Torano wanted to believe his brother; however, Shultz wasn’t sold on the story. He didn’t want Torano to assume Garza had nothing to do with it. The lawyer’s advice was to get Garza comfortable and then push him. Schultz knew Garza lacked the spine of his brother, and was certain with the proper persuasion, he would crack under pressure. Still, Torano wanted to give Enrique the benefit of the doubt.

  Torano had been pissed with Schultz after finding out he’d told Garza how to get in touch with the Chameleon. Schultz didn’t deny it, blaming it on the tequila. He lied, telling Torano he didn’t even remember talking about the hit-man. Garza came to Schultz’s defense, which put the lawyer in his debt. Ramon accepted his brother’s comments. “I’ll let this go then, for you, hermano.” He turned to the lawyer. “Let me assure you, Willem, if you ever mention the Chameleon to another person, I’ll kill your children in front of you. Then I’ll kill your wife. When I’m done with them, I’ll turn you over to Los Zapatos for sport. They won’t kill you quickly. They prefer to release men in the jungle and hunt them for sport. You would do well to keep that in mind.”

  Schultz blanched at the images, replying with a quivering voice, “Never again, Hefe. I swear it on my children’s heads. I’ll never mention the Chameleon again.”

  Torano put his arm around the lawyer. “I believe you, Willem. This is the end of the matter. Besides, it isn’t that easy finding a good lawyer, especially one that doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty from time to time.” He winked at Shultz and slapped him on the back.

  Garza sat back watching the exchange, knowing his brother meant what he said. It was all the more reason to get the hell out of the country, and soon. Now it was in the Chameleon’s hands for him to disappear while seemingly chasing down the missing money. He had all the details for the transition, and still believed he could get away with it.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Lazarus parked down the block, waiting until he saw Torano leave the condo. He was half-tempted to drop a dime on the arrogant asshole but decided against it. He couldn’t let it get personal, no matter how much Torano’s arrogance offended him. Lazarus took a deep breath, let it go and called Garza on his burner.

  “You done pretty good in there, amigo,” said Lazarus when Garza answered.

  “Thanks, Cooper, but I have to admit I was scared shitless.”

  “That jest proves yer human. Don’t sweat the small stuff buddy. Besides, ya gotta a plane to catch in about 3 hours so ya best get to it.”

  “You’re right,” answered Garza. “I’ve got my bags ready to go and a car scheduled to pick me up. Thank your boss for me, you know, for sending you to watch out for me.”

  “Will do, amigo; now git along.” Lazarus ended the call, double checking the area before driving off.

  *****

  The closer he got to Rockport the louder the noise grew in the back of his mind. It had taken root at the condo, when he realized Garza had told Torano about using the Chameleon. It started subconsciously but was quickly becoming tangible. He turned the radio to some classical music and let the scene replay in his head as he drove.

  Then it clicked. Lazarus literally smacked himself in the forehead. Torano WANTED him to think all was good so he could continue working on getting his money back. That’s why he didn’t act surprised when Torano found out “Cooper” worked for the Chameleon. He already knew. Maybe Enrique had him doubting his guilt, but it didn’t matter. Torano wasn’t about to leave without his money. It was all a fucking show. The guy that came in just plain assed fucked up, and Garza sure as hell wasn’t catching that flight. Lazarus picked up the sat-phone and punched in Katsumi’s number.

  Kat answered on the first ring. “Good morning, Sir. What do you need me to do?” She knew it was crunch time and was on full alert, her bags packed and ready to go.

  “First, move the money, all of it. Spread 14.7 million out over my accounts in Monte Carlo, Switzerland, Hong Kong, Ireland and Paris. Put 2 million in a bank in Buenos Aires and leave some bread crumbs to Argentina that a high-end forensic accountant can find.”

  “What else?”

  “I need you here ASAP. Book a flight out of Miami today. Use the Katherine Takahama I.D. Ship me all the gear you’ll need to hack video surveillance and phone systems at a high-end hotel. Figure on good security protocols. Send it overnight to the house in Rockport.”

  “Everything is boxed up and ready to go. I’ll drop it off at Fed-Ex on my way to the airport. Mrs. Conroe will look after Baxter.” The Conroe’s were neighbors of Lazarus on Duck Key.

  “Rent a car when you get into Corpus and give me a call.”

  “As you wish, Sir,” answered Katsumi.

  The next call was to Dr. Helen, who answered on the second ring. “What’s up Spike?”

  “Is Darnell finished in Juarez?” Lazarus asked.

  “Yes, he is. He left El Paso about 3 hours ago. You need him?”

  “I could really use him and you too, if you can make it here by tomorrow morning.”

  “He’ll be there tonight. I’ll fly out this afternoon to San Antonio and rent a car.”

  “Good. I’ll have a room booked for you at the Mainstay Suites in Ingleside. It’s about 20 minutes from Rockport.”

  “I’ll find it. What do you need me to bring?” asked Helen.

  “Nothing; I’ll have everything here.” Lazarus was running through a mental list as he spoke, checking off items he would need to get before they arrived. “Tell D to stop at the Dairy Queen in Ingleside. It’s on the same highway about a mile in. There will be papers, cash and credit cards in the toilet tank in the men’s room.” Lazarus continued, “There’s also going to be directions to another drop. That’s where you pick up the weapons for the job. It’s isolated, but don’t let your guard down.”

  “Understood; I’ll call D and divert him, and we’ll see you tomorrow.” Dr. Helen ended the call on that note.

  *****

  Lazarus was back in Rockport by 10:30. He changed clothes and headed to the storage facility to swap vehicles. After dropping Langston at the house, he put together a package for D. First stop was at the local Ace Hardware for a few items. Then it was off to the DQ in Ingleside. He found out they closed before D would arrive, so he changed the drop to a Stripes store up the street and texted Helen with the address. From there Lazarus drove into Portland, picking up more supplies at Walmart and Academy Sporting Goods. By the time he was finished, he’d dropped about $600.

  Satisfied, Lazarus headed back to Rockport to sort out the details. He made reservations for Katsumi and himself at the Shoreline Hotel in Corpus, where Torano was staying. Wanted man or not, he liked his fine hotels. Lazarus had Dan to thank for that. He’d received the info in a coded email. ‘God bless the NSA’ he thought to himself. They were damn good at what they
did. He grabbed a Whataburger meal on the way and headed to the house to feed Langston and take him out for a walk.

  There was no sign of Angelique and Cheyenne along Bayview. Lazarus knew something was wrong. He gave it until 8:00 before heading to the house and getting the Rover.

  He parked up the block, well out of site; climbing out with Langston on leash. Lazarus leisurely began walking towards Garza’s house, spotting a black Yukon on the far-left side of the driveway. There was one man in the vehicle, which meant there was at least one more in the house. He walked Langston to the open area on the left of the house with a clear view of Little Bay. He ignored the man in the Yukon, playing the part of the tourist walking his dog.

  He caught movement out of the corner of his eye from a window on the second floor. He glanced casually at the house while scratching Langston behind the ears. He saw Angelique’s bright blue eyes reflecting the yard lights. He didn’t react. Instead, he gave Langston a treat and rubbed his head before walking away. Lazarus felt his emotions rising and quickly pushed them back down. There was no room for that right now. He focused on the task at hand. He filed the glimpse of Angelique under leverage Torano was using on his brother. Thief or not, Lazarus believed Garza wouldn’t want Angelique harmed.

  On the way back up Barbados, he stopped in front of a house that was for sale, grabbing one of the brochures in front. If Torano’s man was watching him, it would add credence to the part he was playing. He walked around the house twice and then headed up the street for the drive back to Cayman.

  It was waiting time. That’s something Lazarus was good at. He never got anxious. Back in the house, he poured himself 4 fingers of Kibiki. He selected a Gurkha War Pig out of the humidor and went out on the deck with binoculars. He wasn’t concerned about someone seeing them; there were lots of birdwatchers in Rockport year-round. Lazarus smoked his cigar, sipped the whiskey and every 15 minutes or so, he’d scan Garza’s house for activity. He noted the man in the car went inside at 10:00 and someone came out about 15 minutes later. By the time 2:00 rolled around, he had the pattern down. They were taking two-hour shifts, right on the button every time. He couldn’t identify them from that distance, so the question remained; were they the only two men at the house?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sitting on the deck, smoking a cigar and sipping the Japanese whiskey had a relaxing effect. Lazarus began to reminisce on the past and the path that had brought him to where he was now. The act that sealed his fate, defining what he would become, danced in the darkest recesses of his mind. Slowly it worked its way into his consciousness. He closed his eyes and let the memories flow through him.

  *****

  The river of rage, running deep within Lazarus, was born the night he was taken by the priest. He was too young; too naïve at the time to understand it was rape. He thought of it as penance. Anger found a foothold in his soul that traumatic night, so many years ago.

  The abuse went on until the fall of 1990. He didn’t understand why it stopped until years later. It was on the 18th of October when Father Dominique said to him, “Lazarus, you will become a man on your birthday this year”, which was 12 days away. “It is time for you to move on with your life, time to move on from here. I have taught you all that I can. You have done well enough, although you have never truly made me happy nor learned what it means to please me. That is very disappointing.”

  The priest continued to drone on, but Lazarus couldn’t hear him anymore. The words the priest had spoken cut like a knife to his heart. The pain made him want to lash out, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. In spite of the abuse, he still saw the priest as a father figure. He believed he shouldn’t be angry, but he was. He mentally forced it down, along with the resentment, swallowing hard to keep from screaming. He suddenly realized the priest had stopped talking. Lazarus looked up, angry with of himself for not listening.

  “Lazarus,” said Father Dominique, sharply, “you haven’t heard a word I said, have you. After all I have done for you, this is how you repay my love, by ignoring me?” He was clearly angry now, glaring at Lazarus with pure contempt.

  It was more than Lazarus could contain; staring back at the priest. The anger and resentment releasing the inner rage; a rage he couldn’t hide from his face. He clenched his teeth; hands becoming fists at his side. The changes Father Dominique was seeing in Lazarus’ eyes stopped the priest cold. They were darkening; darkening until they were as black as coal. The priest opened and closed his mouth several times like a fish gasping for air. It was as though he was trying to find the right words to say. In the end, he shook his head and stood there, a look of fear having replaced the scowl on his face.

  Then Lazarus spoke. His words belied the rage the priest saw in his eyes. “Thank you, Father Dominique,” he said, with a graciousness he didn’t feel. “Thank you for teaching me so much about love and life.” An unearthly calm fell over him as he continued, relaxing his hands as he began to smile at the shocked priest. It was a smile that never reached his eyes. “I will never forget you, or what you have done for me. In time, I will find a proper way to repay your kindness.” Lazarus had tilted his head slightly to the right as he spoke. It completely unnerved Father Dominique for reasons he couldn’t explain. “Well, I’d better be going,” he said even more mildly, “There’s much for me to learn you haven’t shown me.” Lazarus bowed, turned on his heel and strode purposefully out of the church with his head held high. He never looked back – physically or spiritually.

  *****

  For the next two years, Lazarus spent every moment he could training his body and mind, starting with daily runs. The next step was martial arts classes two nights a week. Lazarus also showed a sudden interest in shooting and hunting, which pleased his Aunt Ziva. To her, it was sign that he was becoming a man, a man much like his father was in many ways. Lazarus became proficient in everything he trained for, quickly mastering anything he set his mind to. One of the areas he particularly excelled in was disguises, becoming practically invisible to those around him. It took time and patience, a patience Lazarus lacked in the beginning. He would stand for hours in one place, trying to become part of the scenery. At first, he found it almost impossible. Then it occurred to him he had to look like the scenery. Lazarus began to dress accordingly. Selecting colors that blended in with the surroundings he was using as cover.

  The rage that was been born that fateful night continued to grow. Lazarus channeled it into hunting and shooting. He became an excellent marksman with both rifles and pistols. He felt nothing for the animals he killed, completely detached from the act of taking life.

  Ziva didn’t notice the changes. Lazarus went to great lengths to hide them from her. He acted the same as always around her or his friends. No one realizing the boy was becoming a man without a conscience.

  At the age of 17, Lazarus started acting classes. He took on the most challenging parts available, especially when they involved changing appearances. Some changes were made with make-up, others with costumes. Lazarus excelled, landing the lead in two productions. That wasn’t as important as the acting and the makeup techniques. He was training to become another person where he was completely unrecognizable. It worked.

  *****

  A month before Lazarus’ 18th birthday, he received a letter from Mr. Rasmussen concerning his inheritance. He would receive $120,000.00 on the 30th of October, Rasmussen having decided to send the $10,000 per month from the trust on an annual basis. Lazarus needed an account for the transfer. Bryan went on in his letter, explaining to Lazarus he would receive a like payment every year on his birthday until he was 25, or earned a college degree. When either of the two conditions was met, Lazarus would have complete access to the trust fund, currently in excess of 7 million dollars. The majority of the funds were from his father’s diamond business, the balance from farm profits generated by Bryan. The family farm was now almost 3000 acres; a result of Rasmussen purchasing additional acreage during the farm crisis of the
80’s.

  With Ziva’s help and encouragement, Lazarus set up an account at one of the local banks and began to make plans to return to the States. He wanted to wait until after Hanukah and Christmas. Ziva would be sad to see him leave, but she was determined that he return to the place his father had chosen. Lazarus agreed. He would miss his Aunt, even though he was becoming more detached with the passing of time, not only from her, but from the world in general. Still, there was the unfinished business with Father Dominique to deal with.

  Time flew as he prepared to leave the place he’d called home for the last 12 years. He loved France, and would miss it, but he couldn’t stay, especially after following through on his plan for the priest.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Father Dominique would never admit it, but he hated hearing confessions, especially around the Holy Days. Christmas Eve was one of the longest days in the confessional. Lapsed Catholics, and the occasional church attendee, tried to cram a year’s worth of confessions into one visit. This Eve was no exception.

  He came out of the confessional at 7:30 to take a bathroom break. He was pleased to see only two people remained in the church. One was a regular parishioner, an elderly lady who never had any sins to confess, but that didn’t put a damper on her weekly visits. The other person he didn’t recognize, a man kneeling in the back pew, his head bowed in prayer. Father Dom assumed he was middle-aged, his hair streaked with gray.

  After returning to the confessional, the elderly Mademoiselle Durand took over 15 minutes to confess to basically nothing again, still requesting penance from the priest.

  “Very well,” said Father Dominique. “Say a rosary tonight when you get home. That will be your penance.” The priest continued with the prayer of absolution, “God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of your son, you have reconciled the world to yourself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins. Through the ministry of the church, may God grant you pardon and peace. And I absolve you of your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”