The Adventures of Lazarus Gray

by Barry Reese

  "Good morning, Samantha. Is there trouble?" Lazarus said these things without looking up from his paper and he stopped the pretty young Miss Grace in her tracks.

  Regaining her composure, Samantha smoothed out her skirt and stepped up close to her employer. "It always throws me for a loop how you do that. I was trying to be quiet that time."

  "You would have successfully snuck up on almost anyone on earth," Lazarus said, folding up the newspaper and tossing it onto a nearby tabletop.

  "But not you."

  A faint ghost of a smile appeared on Gray’s lips but it vanished so quickly that Samantha wasn’t sure it had really been there at all. "You were coming to tell me about the gentleman in the rain slicker."

  Samantha crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly. "How in the world did you know that?"

  "The window. I was standing in front of it and saw a man approaching our building before I started reading the paper. He looked appropriately dressed for the weather."

  "His name is Peter Scanlon and he says it’s urgent. Something about a missing girl."

  "Has he tried the police?"

  "Yes. But they think he should be sent to the loony bin, apparently."

  "And why is that?"

  "The girl he’s looking for – she has glowing eyes."

  ***

  Peter Scanlon was on the first floor, in a small room set aside for potential clients. Its walls were painted a soothing shade of blue and a fresh arrangement of flowers was in a vase by the door. Morgan Watts was keeping Scanlon company, leaning against one of the walls and watching the little man fidget nervously. Scanlon had refused to give up his rain slicker upon entering, preferring to keep it on. He was slightly paunchy in the way that middle-aged men tend to get and his head was covered by a few thin wisps of hair, combed over in a vain attempt at maintaining the semblance of youth. He wore thick glasses and was constantly pushing them up the bridge of his nose.

  "Sure you don’t want some coffee, buddy?"

  Scanlon frowned and shook his head. "I told you I didn’t. Why do you keep asking me that?"

  "You’re acting more nervous than a bride on her wedding night. If the coffee won’t settle you, I have some stronger stuff in the back."

  Scanlon seemed to be considering the offer when the door opened and Gray stepped in. Samantha was right behind him and she glanced quickly at Morgan, shaking her head. Morgan smirked, knowing what it meant: she’d bet him three dollars that she’d be able to sneak up on Gray this time.

  Gray pulled up a chair and sat down across from Scanlon, ignoring the slightly fearful look that he received. Gray’s eyes were mismatched: one was emerald green, the other dusky brown. They seemed to burn with some sort of awful inner fire, as if there was a bottomless well of fury lurking within his placid expression. "Tell me why you’re here, Mr. Scanlon."

  "Didn’t the girl tell you?"

  "Miss Grace told me some of it but I’d like to hear it from you, in your own words."

  "I have money," Scanlon began but he stopped when Gray’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

  "We can discuss my fee at a later time. Right now, I’m concerned only with the reasons behind your visit."

  Scanlon nodded, looking away. Without having the full force of Gray’s stare on him, he seemed to relax. After taking a deep breath, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and began speaking in low and somewhat embarrassed tones. "I don’t have a particularly glamorous life, Mr. Gray. Nothing like yours, to be sure. I repair typewriters for a living. I work for a Mr. Steinberg, down on 42nd street. He’s a good man and he pays well for the work. I like it but it’s awful lonely sometimes. It’s just me at home, you see. I’ve never married and haven’t really come very close." Scanlon looked up quickly and his cheeks reddened when he realized that Samantha was still in the room. She gave him a reassuring smile that seemed to say that she wasn’t judging him, nor did she pity his state. "A week ago I stopped by O’Malley’s Pub for a drink after work. It was a Tuesday night and the place was mostly empty, except for a few regulars."

  "Are you a regular, Mr. Scanlon?" Morgan asked, taking a pipe out from the inside of his jacket. He lit it with a match and had just begun puffing away when Scanlon answered in the affirmative.

  "I don’t go every night but often enough, I suppose. Well, there was one person there who most definitely wasn’t a regular. It was a girl, about twenty-five I’d say and so lovely that my heart broke just looking at her. She was wearing a white dress that ended just above her knees, white high-heeled pumps and she had a flower in her raven-black hair." Scanlon’s voice had acquired a dreamy air to it and Morgan was barely able to stifle a snort. Samantha motioned for him to stop, but it was obvious that she was amused as well. "Anyway, I took my usual seat and didn’t approach her. She was out of my league and I knew it. So you can imagine my surprise when I heard her angel’s voice from next to my shoulder, asking if she could sit with me. I stammered a yes and tried not to look too eager. She sat down next to me and I could smell her perfume. It was like fresh rose petals."

  Morgan cleared his throat. "I think I can sense where this might be going. This dame of yours… was she a working girl?"

  Scanlon’s mouth fell open and he looked like he might rise up and walk out. "Heavens no! Where on Earth did you get that idea? She wasn’t like that. Not at all, sir!"

  "Please continue." Gray spoke softly but the tone was so commanding that Scanlon at once gave a nod and resumed his story.

  "I could tell right away that she was sad about something. She looked like she’d been crying. I tried to make small talk with her but she was obviously too upset. She said she just wanted to be near me, that I made her feel safe. I bought her a couple of drinks but she barely touched either one. When I realized it was getting late, I told her I had to go and she asked me if I’d walk with her to get a cab."

  "And she never told you her name?" Samantha asked.

  "No. I didn’t ask, though. I didn’t even realize I hadn’t until… well, later." Scanlon cleared his throat and brushed his glasses back up over the bridge of his nose. "It was raining outside so I took off my jacket and held it over her head. She said it was gallant of me and I felt her touch my chest, kind of pulling me to her. I was just a little taller than her and so I was looking down at her. It was obvious she wanted me to kiss her. I was going to do it, too, but that’s when I saw her eyes." He reached out suddenly and gripped Lazarus by the sleeve. "They were glowing. It was kind of an ice blue color and her pupils seemed to vanish as I was looking at them. Her eyes were just empty, with that strange glow. It was the most beautiful and terrifying thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Is that possible? To be attracted and repulsed by something simultaneously?"

  "I see it all the time," Morgan whispered.

  "Yeah. In the mirror every morning." Samantha winked as she said the words, continuing the teasing that was part and parcel of their friendship.

  Scanlon licked his lips. "I’ll take that drink now, if you don’t mind. Water will do."

  Morgan sprang into action, leaving the room and returning a moment later with a glass full of tap water. "There you go," he said with a grin.

  Scanlon downed the drink in two quick sips. He waved away Morgan when the thin man reached for the glass to offer a refill. "I was going to kiss her anyway. Even with the glowing eyes. I mean, I know it sounds awful, but the chance to hold a girl like that overwhelmed any fears I had about her eyes."

  "And what happened?" Gray prompted.

  "I don’t know. I blacked out or something. The next thing I knew, I was lying on my back, with a tingling in my forehead. Two men in suits were dragging the girl away from me. They were shoving her into the backseat of a sedan. A third man was behind the wheel. She was screaming for me to help her but I couldn’t think straight. By the time I was on my feet, they were gone, the car turning the corner at the end of the street."

  Morgan looked at Gray. "One of those boys must have clocked h
im from behind. That’s why he can’t remember anything. And his head was buzzing from a concussion."

  Lazarus stroked his chin but said nothing.

  Scanlon rapped his knuckles on the table. "I do remember something else, though. I memorized the license plate number of that car. It was 30-T46."

  "That could prove most useful," Gray said. He didn’t bother writing the number down and his aides weren’t surprised. His mind was like a steel trap, capable of storing even the most trivial of data. "Did you receive medical treatment after this event?"

  "I did. The docs at the hospital said I was fine. No trace of a concussion," he added, looking directly at Morgan. "But they did say something really strange. They said I was in a dangerous state of dehydration. I think they thought I was nuts when I told them that was impossible. Of course, the looks I got from the cops were even worse. I told them everything, thinking some of it might be important, but as soon I got to those phantom eyes of hers, they tuned me out."

  "Phantom eyes," Gray repeated. "An interesting turn of phrase." He stood up and made for the door, speaking over his shoulder. "I’ll look into this. Please leave your address and a phone number where you can be reached with my associates."

  Scanlon rose, looking surprised but pleased. "I really hope he can find her," he said to Samantha. "She was so pretty and she said I made her feel safe. I can’t stop feeling guilty over letting those brutes take her away."

  Samantha took him by the elbow. "If there’s anyone in Sovereign City who can find her, it’s Mr. Gray. You can count on that."

  Morgan watched the pretty young girl lead the man from the room, soothing him with her confidence. He was glad she felt so positive about this one because he was anything but. The whole story sounded crazy, from the part where a pretty girl would put the moves on a guy like Scanlon to the part where her eyes turned into glowing spotlights. Still, if the boss thought there was something to it, Morgan would jump in with both feet. Lazarus Gray had earned that level of trust and then some.

  ***

  The leader of Assistance Unlimited rode the elevator to the third floor. Only one lift in the entire building had access to his private quarters and that one required a key to operate. Once he was alone in his quarters, Gray stepped into his bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. As always, the face that stared back at him was virtually a stranger’s. He recognized the contours of the features from having lived with him the past eighteen months but he still lacked a connection to them. It was like he was living in someone else’s body.

  Phantom eyes, Scanlon had said. Something about those words seemed to trigger a residual memory in Gray, sparking things that he had forgotten until this day. They were images from another life, from before he’d woken on the beach.

  He was in a temple in Tibet, hiding in the shadows. A nude young girl was bound to an altar, her screams stifled by a strip of cloth jammed into her mouth. Standing in a semicircle around her were six men, dressed in dark robes. One of them wore a ram’s skull over his head, its horns curling to the sky. Two burning braziers were the only illumination in the room and the light danced off the curved blade the man in the horned helm held over the girl. The blade was raised and in that moment, Lazarus thought that the man’s eyes had taken on a strange cast, as if they were glowing from within. It was like some dread phantasm had entered the man’s body and the only sign of it was through those eyes, the portals to his soul.

  Why had he been there? Was he taking part in this awful ceremony? Or was he there to stop it? He didn’t remember what became of the girl but he felt certain she was dead now.

  Lazarus shook away the memory, suddenly feeling damp with sweat. "Who am I?" he asked aloud.

  As always, there was no answer.

  Chapter III

  A Trail of Blood

  "I’ll be damned if I know why a man like Gray would hire a chink."

  "Keep your voice down. He might hear you."

  Eun Jiwon maintained a forced look of placidity but he was quite aware of every word that was being said. The two female file clerks were in an adjoining room, looking up the information he’d requested. He was dressed smartly in a dark suit, white shirt and tie. With some people, it helped to appear as Western as possible. For others, though, it only accentuated the fact that he was a foreigner.

  The woman who had called him by the racial slur returned with a slip of paper in her hand. She gazed at him from over her horn-rimmed glasses and the set of her lips made it appear she had just taken a bite of a sour apple. "I was able to find out who that license plate belongs to," she began. "But I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask for verification that you’re getting this for Mr. Gray. We don’t give this sort of thing out to just anyone."

  Eun’s eyes must have betrayed his irritation because the woman drew back slightly. "I gave you the signed request from Lazarus. If that’s not good enough for you, perhaps you should pick up the phone and call him? I’m sure he’s not doing anything more important right now than talking to a filing clerk."

  The stinging rebuke had the intended effect and the woman simply shoved the paper at Eun, quickly turning away with a harrumph. Eun looked at the words printed on the sheet, identifying the owner of the car as a Jonathan Nero. He tapped the name quickly. "Are you sure about this?"

  The woman looked back at him, disdain pouring from her. "Quite. I may only be a filing clerk, but I know how to look things up. Or do you need me to read it for you? I know some of you boys have trouble with English."

  Eun bit back the reply that threatened to erupt from him. He could speak and write fluently, almost undoubtedly much more impressively than this woman. But he knew that Mr. Gray would be upset with him if he made a scene. He simply wrote down all the information that was on the paper and left the original on the counter. He hurried from city hall, offering a few brief nods of his head to the people he recognized in passing. Working for Lazarus Gray meant that Eun often came into contact with the people of power in Sovereign City. This was both good and bad. For every one honest cop or upstanding city councilman, there were three more that were crooked.

  Eun walked to a black roadster parked outside and slid easily into the passenger side seat. Gray was behind the wheel, looking as still and quiet as a statue. "The car belongs to Jonathan Nero."

  If Eun had been expecting his employer to show surprise, he was disappointed. Gray simply nodded, his eyes narrowing only slightly. Nero was a very wealthy man, owning a large number of tenement buildings in the city. By all rights, he should have had most of his real estate condemned. But being one of the chief contributors to the mayor’s coffers never hurt.

  "We should go and talk to him," Gray said, shifting the car into drive. He pulled out onto the streets and began directing his vehicle smoothly through the traffic. It was midday, just a few hours since Scanlon had visited Assistance Unlimited. The streets were glistening with wetness, evidence of a shower that had just passed through. Thick clouds of pollution hung over the city, combining with the rain to evoke memories of London in Gray’s mind. He didn’t recall when he’d visited the city but he was certain that he had. A vague ache in his heart made him think that he had lost someone there.

  "Chief?"

  Gray realized that Eun had been waiting for him to respond to something. "Sorry. My mind was wandering."

  "Thinking about the case?"

  "Yes," Gray said, thinking once again how easily lies sometimes came to him. "What were you saying?"

  "I’m not sure it’s wise to just drop in on a man like Nero. There are already folks who think you’re given too much freedom to move about. If Nero thinks you’re pressuring him, he could go to the mayor and have the screws tightened on you."

  "I’m not afraid of that."

  Eun looked out his window and waited a moment before speaking again. "What does scare you, Chief?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "We’ve all heard you cry out at night, like you’re having the worst kind of nigh
tmares. Samantha and Morgan both say we shouldn’t mention it, that you’re entitled to your privacy. But I think we’re family now, whether we want to admit it or not. And if something’s eating away at you, we should know about it. So we can help make it better."

  Gray slowed the car to a stop in front of a house that could only be described as a mansion. A large stone privacy fence surrounded the property with wrought iron gates preventing unwanted access. "Eun, I appreciate what you’re saying. But there are reasons why I keep certain things to myself."

  "Like anything to do with your past? None of us know where you come from or what you did before you opened up Assistance Unlimited. It’s strange sometimes, realizing how little we know about you."

  "Do you trust me?"

  Eun turned to stare at Gray. "Of course I do. With my life."

  "Then allow me this. When I feel I can tell you more, I will. I’m not deliberately keeping things from you. To be honest, you know almost as much about me as I do. Lazarus Gray is probably not my name."

  "I don’t understand."

  "I’m an amnesiac. I woke up here in Sovereign City back in ’33."

  "Why didn’t you tell us?"

  "I’m not sure. I seem to instinctively try to limit how much others know about me. One reason for my attempts at staying in the public eye was to draw out anyone who might know something about me." Gray hesitated. "Let’s keep this between us for now."

  "You don’t want me to mention it to the others?"

  "I’d prefer you didn’t. It’s not a matter of trust. It’s... I’m not sure what it is. But I feel it’s better to keep the truth about me as quiet as possible."