Evolution of a Killer

by Robert Ullrich

  Torano took the phone and waved him away, much to the guard’s relief.

  “Senor,” growled Torano into the phone, “the hour is late, and I do not appreciate being awoken in the middle of the night.”

  “This isn’t a fucking social call, Ramon,” calmly replied Lazarus.

  Torano was on guard now and starting to get angry. The Chameleon hadn’t spoken to him like that in years. “I would be careful what you say next, you know who you are talking to.”

  “Fuck a bunch of being careful,” said Lazarus with a chuckle; quoting one of Virgil Flowers favorite quips. “I’m calling because I’m extremely disappointed in you. You lied to my associate Johnson and you lied to me.”

  Now Torano was livid. “I haven’t lied to anyone. Fuck you!”

  Lazarus continued in his calm steady voice, “Then why have you’ve chartered a jet to the Cayman Islands for tomorrow with Garza scheduled to go along? You swore to me you would stay out of this matter until I was finished.”

  Torano was dumbfounded. How could the Chameleon know he had chartered the jet? It wasn’t even in his name. Even more so, how did he know Garza was going with him? Someone had to have told him. He couldn’t even begin to think how to answer.

  “I thought as much,” said Lazarus, accepting the silence as confirmation, “as I said, I’m extremely disappointed in you.”

  Torano, still angry even though surprised, replied, “I don’t give a shit whether you approve of my actions or not. The money is mine. I’m going to get it.”

  “No, Ramon, you aren’t. I took the liberty of moving all the money out of the account. Not even Garza knows where it is now.”

  Torano froze with his mouth open. ‘Could that be true?’ he thought to himself, knowing full well it was. There’d be no way to find out for certain until morning. His brother had “traced” the money for him, putting the blame on one of his employees. She was already dead. He took a deep breath and said, “Whether I believe this or not, it’s my money, and I expect it to be returned.”

  “Ramon, I gave you my word I’d find the money and return it to you. Unlike you, I honor my word. You’ll get your money when I am good and ready to return it.”

  “My brother has already found the one that stole it. She won’t be stealing again,” said Torano with no emotion.

  “You killed the wrong person, Ramon. My associate, Johnson, has eyes on the thief even as we speak. I assure you, he is not dead,” said Lazarus with a laugh.

  Before Torano could process the information, Lazarus continued, “I left something for you in the hall outside your suite. Send one of your men to get it. I’ll wait.”

  Torano shouted for one of his body guards. “Go look in the hall. If there’s a package by the door, bring it to me.”

  The body guard returned in less than a minute and handed the box to Ramon.

  The note on top read, “You need a new lawyer, Ramon. Besides, I never liked that German asshole to begin with.” Ramon opened the carton slowly, unsure what to expect. The color drained from his face when he saw what it was.

  “Go check on Schultz!” he shouted to the body guard.

  Lazarus spoke. “I assure you, Ramon. Schultz is deader than a door nail. It could just as easily be your heart in that box, so consider this my peace offering.”

  “Peace offering?!” exclaimed Torano. “You call this a fucking peace offering?!”

  “I do, since it isn’t your heart.” Lazarus went on, “Now, before you say anything else, this is what you’re going to do. You’re going to check out of the Shoreline early, 9:00 should give your boys plenty of time to clean up Schultz’s room. Then you’ll cancel the charter and go back to Cozumel, leaving me to complete my business.”

  “And what will you do in return?” said Torano angrily.

  “Exactly what I said I’d would. Return your money. As a bonus, and to make peace, I’ll send it to you along with the person who stole it, at my own expense.”

  Torano mulled it over for a minute. “You expect me to take your word for this?”

  Lazarus replied as though he was speaking to a child, “Ramon, when have I ever not kept my word; for good or bad?”

  Torano begrudgingly admitted to himself that no matter what happened between them, the Chameleon always kept his word. “Never; you have always kept your word.”

  “Then do this Ramon and you’ll have your money and the thief, too.”

  “But my brother was positive it was this woman,” said Torano defensively.

  “He may very well have believed it. The real thief set her up to take the fall. Enrique doesn’t have the computer skills to see the connection, very few people do. I happen to have one working for me that does. You’ll get your money Ramon. You have my word, again.”

  “What do I tell Enrique?” he asked, reluctantly accepting the situation for what it was.

  “Tell him I tipped you off, that the Feds received a viable tip you’re somewhere in Texas. You must get out immediately, and the charter was compromised. Tell him whatever you want Ramon, just tell him.”

  “I’m putting a lot of faith in you,” said Ramon. “I’m not pleased with the death of my lawyer.”

  Lazarus laughed, “Shultz? He was a shitty lawyer with a big mouth. You’re better off without him and you know it. I’ll put out some feelers and find you a replacement. One you can trust to keep his mouth shut. Besides, how do you think I found out about the charter and Garza in the first place?”

  “How did you?” asked Torano curiously.

  “I was in the hotel bar with you last night. You went up to your room at exactly 12:15. Schultz was so drunk he wasn’t paying any attention to what he was saying, or how loud he said it. That’s how I found out.”

  Torano sighed, still angry, but sobered by the knowledge that the Chameleon had been in the same room. He couldn’t know for certain, but he knew instinctively it was probably true. “I’ll be gone in the morning.”

  Lazarus’s sat-phone had rung in the middle of the conversation. Katsumi took the call from Helen, letting them know Angelique was safe, and the body guards taken care of. She passed the info along to Lazarus on a piece of paper.

  “You’ll have your money in two days,” said Lazarus. “There is one other little detail I need to fill you in on Ramon.”

  “What now?” Torano asked, clearly exasperated.

  “The two body guards you had at Garza’s house, keeping an eye on his wife?”

  “What about them?”

  “You’re going to have to replace them, too,” Lazarus stated flatly. “In the future when you have business to conduct, leave the wives and children out of it. Show me the same courtesy I showed you.”

  Torano shook his head, “Agreed. Although I wouldn’t have let them harm her, or her housekeeper.”

  “I’m not sure I can take your word for that, amigo.” Lazarus choosing to call him friend, knowing it would make Torano a bit more comfortable under the circumstances.

  Torano laughed, “La Madre de Dios, mi amigo, at least I didn’t WANT them to be hurt.”

  “I’ll give you that one, Hefe,” said Lazarus with a laugh. “This is behind us now as far as I am concerned. I have no wish to be on the outs with a man I admire as much as you, Ramon.”

  The flattery got to him as Lazarus knew it would. “Si, we will put this behind us, amigo,” adding with a chuckle, “Once I have my money back, of course.”

  “Of course,” agreed Lazarus. “You’ll hear from me tomorrow.”

  “Bueno,” replied Ramon.

  “Adios, Hefe,” said Lazarus.

  *****

  It took Ramon’s men over two hours to clean up the lawyer’s room and cut Schultz’s body up, so they could sneak it out of the hotel. They were grateful to the Chameleon for not leaving a bloody mess to contend with. The only thing stained was the bedspread. Ramon’s man explained to the desk clerk he had ruined it by spilling drinks and paid for a replacement. Willem Shultz departed the Shorel
ine in 11 pieces, scattered through 9 pieces of luggage.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  While Lazarus was getting on the elevator at the Shoreline, Darnell was idling towards Garza’s house. Helen was walking down Barbados with Langston, two houses away.

  Darnell waited until the bodyguard got out of the Yukon. He slid the boat up to the dock and tied it off. He had a Beretta 92, with silencer, Darnell’s weapon of choice. Lazarus had supplied one for the job. He was dressed in black from head to toe, including a black Salt Armor face shield. As he approached the back door, Darnell pulled out a set of picks, selecting the pair he needed for the Schlage locks. He was surprised there were no lights on the back of the house. He assumed it was to avoid drawing attention. Darnell glanced past the edge of the teak plantation blinds in the window, seeing no movement in what he knew to be the kitchen. The alarm would be off, since Ramon’s men were in the process of changing shifts. He was inside in less than a minute, pocketing the picks and pulling the 9mm from his belt. He knew the silencer would muffle the sound enough to keep it from being recognized outside the house. Darnell glided towards the front of the house, noiselessly as a cat on carpet. He was half-way across the room when a woman entered from his left.

  Rebecca stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth half-open. Darnell put a finger to his lips, hoping she wouldn’t scream. If she did, there was nothing he could do but storm the front room and hope for the best. He had the timing worked out with Helen, and she would be coming through the front door at 4:05. She would have screamed, but she was in shock. When the man in black put his finger to his lips, something clicked in her brain. She let out a long breath and nodded her head, a look of confusion on her face. Darnell pulled the face shield down to expose his mouth, then smiled and winked at her. Then he gave her the “okay” sign with his hand. Darnell pointed to the front room and held up two fingers. Rebecca nodded, understanding what he wanted to know. He smiled again and covered his face.

  There were two voices speaking Spanish as Darnell approached the opening to the front room. He watched the second hand on his watch steadily climbing towards the 12. At exactly 4:05 he moved, the Beretta leading the way. The front door opened as he entered the room and 2 seconds later, Helen and Langston came in from the other side. The two men froze; two Uzis lying on the coffee table just out of reach. One of them started to move his hand behind his back.

  “You’ll be dead before you get it out,” said Darnell in Spanish. The man stopped in mid reach. “Do you speak English?” Darnell asked. They both nodded. “Good, my Spanish is a little rusty.” He continued in English, “You have two options. Take your backup weapons out slowly with two fingers and lay them on the coffee table or die where you sit. The choice is yours.” They both complied, the Beretta making their decision easy. Darnell had no intentions of killing them at that point. It would jeopardize the operation, and there would be a mess to clean up.

  “Now, take a seat, gentlemen,” said Darnell. The two men sat down at opposite ends of the couch.

  “What are your names?” Helen asked. The older looking one said his name was Javier and the younger one said, “Ernesto”. “Okay, Javier and Ernesto, do as you’re told, and you might get out of this alive.”

  Javier snarled with a thick Spanish accent, “Do you know who we work for?”

  Dr. Helen smiled and answered. “You used to be employees of Senor Ramon Torano, El Corazon. Unfortunately for him and for you, it would seem your Hefe is no longer among the living. We work for the one they call the Chameleon. He paid your boss a visit earlier this evening. It seems Senor Torano was interfering with one of the Chameleon’s operations. He doesn’t take kindly to that. El Corazon made a fatal mistake coming to Corpus Christi. It made him an easy target.”

  The color drained from Javier’s face. He didn’t know what to believe, but he knew of the Chameleon through Torano. His boss told them all, if he ever comes for you, you will soon be meeting your Maker.

  “Miss Rebecca?” Darnell spoke towards the doorway. “You can come in now.”

  Rebecca entered the room slowly, still in a state of shock, but starting to settle down. She became even more confused when she saw the strange lady with Langston, Lazarus’ dog.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “We’re friends of the man who owns this dog. Whatever happens, do not mention his name,” Darnell added sternly.

  Helen asked, “Is Angelique upstairs?”

  Rebecca nodded.

  “Would you please go tell her she is safe, and ask her to come down?”

  “I’ll try,” said Rebecca. “But it might take some coaxing.” She turned and headed out of the room and up the stairs.

  Dr. Helen watched the two men closely. Javier reacted rather strangely to the request to bring Angelique down. In fact, he’d started sweating. Ernesto, who looked to be no more than his mid twenties, sat there with his head hung down, dejectedly. Helen called Lazarus’ sat phone and Katsumi answered.

  “The package is secure,” she said and ended the call.

  Rebecca returned alone 5 minutes later. “She doesn’t want to come down,” she explained.

  Helen walked over to the girl, Darnell kept the gun loosely aimed between the pair on the couch. “I understand,” she said to Rebecca. “She doesn’t believe you?”

  Rebecca shrugged her shoulders. “That’s part of it, yes.”

  Helen noted there was something else holding her back, but she smiled, “I’m sure she has reservations and, quite frankly, so would I in her position.” She continued, “Did you tell her Langston is here with us?”

  Rebecca sighed. “I didn’t even think of that, sorry. She loves Langston and trusts him. I’ll give it another shot.” She turned and headed back up the stairs. Helen was still watching the two Mexicans carefully, looking for something, just not sure what. She noticed Javier had become even more agitated. She made a mental note of it.

  Darnell whispered, “Jesus Christ,” when Angelique entered the room.

  She’d been beaten, and badly. Her right eye was swollen almost shut, her bottom lip cut and bleeding. She had visible bruising on the left side of her face and had both arms wrapped around her chest.

  Helen didn’t show it, but she was almost as shocked as Darnell when she saw the condition Angelique was in. She saw a look in Darnell’s eyes and knew he was about to explode.

  “Wait, D,” she said gently. Darnell didn’t look away, he simply nodded. He then asked in a voice as cold as death itself, “Which one of you did that to her?”

  Helen answered, “Javier. If he was sweating any harder, he’d need a towel.” There was no humor in her voice.

  Darnell moved so quickly not even Helen was ready for it. He was across the room in a second, his left hand around Javier’s neck, as he lifted him off the couch with one hand and jammed the Beretta against the side of his head. Langston was immediately on guard. His hackles were up, fangs bared and growling deep in his chest. His ears turned back, waiting for a command.

  Helen didn’t move. She simply said in a soft voice, “Not now, D, not here.”

  At first it seemed her words had fallen on deaf ears. Darnell stood there, Javier struggling for air with his feet 6 inches off the ground. His face started to purple before Darnell dropped him as quickly as he had picked him up. Javier collapsed to the floor, coughing and gasping for air. “As you wish,” he said as he turned his head towards Helen. “For now,” he added coldly.

  “Thank you, D, I know that wasn’t easy,” said Helen in her soft soothing voice. Darnell nodded in agreement and remained standing over Javier.

  Helen looked down at Langston and said, “Langston, rester.” The shepherd didn’t relax, remaining on guard. That alerted Helen that she was missing something.

  Angelique, standing there in shock, finally found her voice and confirmed it. “Yes, it was that one,” She said, pointing at Javier. She continued, her voice starting to crack, “He was going to rape me. He would have succ
eeded if the other one hadn’t come in.” Tears began to run down her face as she replayed it in her mind. “The younger one screamed at him in Spanish and put a gun to his head, dragging him off me. I understand enough Spanish from being around Enrique to know he told him he would be lucky if someone called ‘El Corazon’ didn’t kill him.”

  One look at the two men and anyone could see she was telling the truth. Javier was shaking in fear where he lay on the ground. Ernesto didn’t even look up.

  Langston circled the room, never taking his eyes off Javier, to where Angelique was standing. He sniffed her carefully, whining softly - sensing her distress. The growl deepened and his hackles came back up, lips curling back as he turned towards Javier.

  Angelique whispered, “Langston,” and he turned his head to look up at her. She opened her hand and closed her fingers quickly, as Lazarus had taught her. The dog circled Angelique twice before sitting down between her and the rest of the people in the room. The low growl continued deep in his chest, his eyes fixed on Javier.

  “Where’s Cheyenne?” asked Helen of Angelique. “I was told she would be by your side at all times by our mutual friend with no name.”

  Rebecca had already warned Angelique, that for some reason, they were not to mention Lazarus by name. “She’s upstairs in my bedroom,” She replied, glaring at Javier. “She’s badly injured, thanks to this asshole. He hit her with his gun and kicked her when she tried to defend me.” The tone of her voice put Langston back on his feet, head down and waiting for a command again. Angelique reached down and touched him the back. “Stay, Langston,” she said. “These people will take care of him for us, I think,” she added in a calmer voice. Langston didn’t move. The commands in English didn’t have the effect of a command in French.

  Helen was angry now, angrier than her husband, although she didn’t show it. She looked at the time. It was 4:30. She hadn’t heard from Lazarus, but she knew it would be at least an hour or two based on his timeline. She took a long look at Angelique and decided. She spoke briefly with Darnell.