The Adventures of Lazarus Gray

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The Adventures of Lazarus Gray Page 3

by Barry Reese

Eun frowned, not liking the idea of keeping secrets from his friends. But he felt honored that Gray had shared this with him and so he simply nodded, agreeing to the request.

  Together, the two men exited the vehicle and approached the gate. Before they reached it, a broad-shouldered man in a dark suit appeared on the other side. A bulge in his jacket made it clear that he was armed and something about his manner indicated he wouldn’t hesitate to use his weapon.

  "Can I help you gentlemen?" he asked, in a voice that was a little higher than would have been expected.

  "My name’s Lazarus Gray. I need to speak to Mr. Nero."

  "About what?"

  "That’s private business between he and I."

  "Mr. Nero’s not seeing anybody today." The man adjusted his coat and seemed disturbed by something. "You can leave your card if you want."

  Gray’s eyes narrowed, watching the man closely. He was an expert at analyzing body language and he was picking up telltale signs that this brute was not only hiding something, he was afraid. The rapid blinking, the slight hint of perspiration on the upper lip and the fidgeting with his coat all added together as evidence. "Mr. Nero is here, isn’t he?"

  "Yeah but like I said, he’s not seeing anyone." The front door of the house opened then and a second man emerged. He was slender and sported a blond moustache. In his left hand, he was clutching a black medical bag.

  "Louie!" the doctor yelled. "We need to talk."

  "Wait here," Louie said, turning his back on Gray so he could find out what the second man wanted.

  Lazarus sprang into action. He took one step back and then flung himself at the gate, latching on with a steely grip. He pulled himself up and over quickly, dropping to his feet before the men on the other side of the gate had even realized what was happening. Louie spun about and muttered a curse, raising a fist. Gray caught it in midair and, in an amazing display of strength, applied so much pressure that the big man fell to one knee, groaning.

  "I’m going to let you go," Gray said. "And you’re going to open the gate so my friend can come. And then," he added, looking up at the doctor, who was watching him with mouth agape, "We’re all going to talk."

  The doctor nodded. "Louie, do as he says. We don’t have time for this nonsense."

  Louie glared at Grey as he got back to his feet, muttering under his breath as he went to open the gate for Eun.

  The doctor stepped forward and offered a hand. "Doc Barrington. I recognize you from the papers, Mr. Gray."

  "Is something wrong with Mr. Nero?"

  Barrington looked over at Louie and obviously made a decision to share information with Gray. "He’s sick, deathly so. There’s nothing I can do for him here. He has to be taken to a hospital or he won’t last through the day."

  "May I see him?"

  Barrington consented, knowing the many stories that swirled around Lazarus Gray. It was said the man had once performed delicate heart surgery in the middle of a filthy alleyway, using only a pocketknife. Louie followed right on their heels, glaring at Eun the whole way.

  "What’s the problem, big fella?" Eun chided. "Jealous that I’m better dressed than you?"

  "Shaddup," Louie muttered. "None of you guys are supposed to be in here. Mr. Nero’s gonna get my goat for this."

  "I’m afraid your employer isn’t in the position to terrorize anyone right now," Barrington said. The doctor led them through an impressive home, furnished so expensively that it crossed the line from opulence to garishness. As they neared the room where Nero was resting, an unpleasant odor filled the air. It was reminiscent of spoiled meat and Eun had to raise a hand over his face to keep from gagging. He noticed that Louie came to a halt, well away from the door. If the smell bothered Barrington or Gray, neither man gave any sign of it.

  Nero was sitting up in a chair, a blanket covering his legs. A window near him was opened, letting in what passed for fresh air in Sovereign. Gray had seen numerous pictures of Nero and the man before him only bore a passing resemblance to him. Nero looked thin and emaciated, the skin drawn taut against his skeleton. He wore a robe that hung loosely from him, evidence of how much weight he had lost.

  "How long has he been like this?" Gray asked.

  "He came in for an appointment two weeks ago and was perfectly fine. But yesterday I got the call that he was sick. I found him like this. Both he and Louie assure me that he’s been eating and drinking but he continues to waste away. He’s lost seven pounds since last night. It’s like he’s just drying up before my eyes."

  Lazarus noticed that Eun straightened at the doctor’s words. Scanlon had reported similar symptoms after his encounter with the phantom-eyed girl. Given the fact that a car registered to Nero had been seen with the girl in tow, this seemed confirmation that Nero had come into contact with her.

  Gray approached Nero and pulled up a chair so that he could examine him. Nero’s eyes were sunken orbs and there was a general air of malaise about him. Gray suspected that not even a state-of-the-art hospital would be able to save the man at this point. Soon, organ failure would be setting in. "Mr. Nero. I need to ask you about a girl."

  Barrington looked confused but Eun placed a hand on his arm and gestured for silence. Louie was still outside the room, as if being near his employer in this state was too much for him.

  "A week ago," Gray continued, "a young woman was kidnapped outside a tavern here. The man who had been with her says that she was quite beautiful but that her eyes possessed unusual properties: he described them as phantom eyes. The car she was bundled into belongs to you. Do you know her?"

  Nero took a deep, rattling breath and slowly nodded his head. "They took her. I was trying to help her but they won’t let her go. Not after all the money they spent on her eyes."

  "Who are they?"

  Nero licked his lips and his eyes fixed on something past Gray’s shoulder. His voice sounded paper-thin. "She was such a lovely thing growing up. I loved her with all my heart but I put such pressure on her. I’d wanted a son, you see. And nothing she did was ever quite going to make up for the lack of a son."

  Gray turned his head, his eyes finding the object that was holding Nero’s attention. There was a photograph on the wall of a gorgeous young woman, wearing a white skirt and a violet blouse. She was hanging on the arm of Jonathan Nero, a bright smile on her face. "She’s your daughter?"

  "Yes. Her name is Wilma."

  Gray reached out and squeezed Nero’s hand, feeling the bones under the shifting flesh. "Tell me who has your daughter."

  "She’s with Doc Pemberley and his gang."

  Eun gasped. Pemberley was a discredited scientist who had been busted for conducting experiments on vagrants and runaways. The man sometimes sold his services to various mob bosses as well, creating gases and weapons that aided them in their nefarious exploits. Gray had finally brought the man to justice about six months ago but Pemberley had gotten off on a technicality. He’d fled the city in the aftermath and, until now, Eun hadn’t known he’d returned. The young Korean looked over at his employer but, as usual, Gray had his poker face on and was revealing nothing of his own thoughts.

  "Please tell me more," Gray pressed.

  Nero groaned, prompting Barrington to say, "I don’t think this is wise. He’s far too weak. He needs to be in a hospital."

  He’s going to die," Gray said firmly. He saw no surprise in Nero’s eyes at that proclamation. The poor man knew this to be fact. He could feel it, after all. "Before he passes, let him help me save his daughter."

  "She fell in love with Pemberley’s son," Nero whispered, losing strength. "I forbade her to see him but you know how young people are. All of that only made her want to be with him more. Eventually, the boy died after volunteering to help his father with his experiments. Then the bastard turned his attentions to my daughter. He did something to her eyes, turned her into a host for something awful. And when she escaped, she was too afraid to come home to me. People who are around her… they suffer. The thing ins
ide her needs to feed." Nero coughed and tiny flecks of red and white dotted his lips. "Somebody at that bar recognized her, though, and gave me a call. I sent my boys to bring her home."

  "How did she end up with Pemberley again?"

  "It made her go back to him."

  "What did? This thing you said is inside her? What is it?"

  Nero’s body began to shudder and a rattling sound emanated from his throat. Barrington rushed forward and tried his best but there was nothing to be done. Jonathon Nero, as powerful a figure as any in Sovereign, was dead.

  Lazarus stood, leaving the room while Barrington was checking for any last signs of life. He and Eun hurried past Louie in the hallway, exiting the house before the big man could ask what was wrong.

  "What now, Chief?" Eun asked. "We gonna stop in and see Doc Pemberley?"

  "We need to check in on Morgan and Samantha immediately."

  Eun slid into the passenger seat of the car, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t sure what the duo had been assigned to do. "Where are they?"

  The strong line of Gray’s jaw tightened. "They’re supposed to be visiting Doc Pemberley right now."

  "What in the world are you talking about, Chief?"

  Gray kept his eyes on the road but he was able to recount for Eun the reasons behind their associates’ current mission. As usual, it involved the fact that Lazarus kept his cards close to the vest and rarely shared all the facts with anyone, including his employees.

  "After speaking to Mr. Scanlon, I was struck by what he said about the young woman’s eyes. He called them Phantom Eyes."

  "So?"

  "When I helped bring Doc Pemberley to justice, I took it upon myself to go through his files. I found several references to some kind of surgery that he had dubbed The Phantom Eyes Project. It involved grafting some sort of parasite behind the eyes. It would derive its nutrition from the moisture found in living beings. If a victim could be found, the creature was able to absorb moisture through physical contact, a process that would lead to the host’s eyes glowing. In the absence of a victim, the parasite would begin feasting upon the moisture found in its host body until they were drained dry. Sometime last month, I heard unconfirmed rumors that Pemberley had returned to this city. I managed to trace him to a brownstone on Maxwell Street."

  Eun tapped his chin thoughtfully. "But what kind of creature could do that, though? I’ve never heard of anything that could do those things."

  Gray glanced at him and the look on his face chilled Eun to the very core of his being. "That’s because it’s not a creature of this world."

  Chapter IV

  The Eyes of Doom

  Melvin Pemberley was fifty years old, though he could pass for a man in his mid-thirties. He was handsome in an Aryan sort of way, with short-cut blond hair, blue eyes that resembled chipped polar ice and a coolly efficient manner of conducting himself. He tended to wear the type of white lab coats so often associated with scientists and was rarely found without a pair of surgical gloves on his hands.

  Doc Pemberley’s appearance generally caused people to believe he was a hard-working man dedicated to science. The truth was a good bit more sinister. Pemberley was completely amoral. Where the average person would cringe, Pemberley stared unabashed. When a normal man would rush in to save those in need, Pemberley was more apt to pick up a sheet of paper and begin recording the events occurring before him.

  And then there was the peculiar interest in the macabre.

  Doc Pemberley was not only a world-class authority on scientific matters, he was also an amateur occultist, with a collection of books that would be the envy of almost any parapsychologist in the world. Even the good men and women at Miskatonic University would have been impressed by his holdings. He had one of several books that had been personally bound by the infamous Felix Cole, whose skills in handling the works of the damned were impeccable.

  The combination of good looks, remarkable intelligence and a total lack of morals made Doc Pemberley a very, very dangerous man.

  He was presently living in a rented brownstone located not more than three blocks from the harbor. He had a gang who worked for him, dangerous enforcers who didn’t mind breaking the necks of those who bothered their boss. His activities were funded through a wide variety of jobs he took for the various crime lords in the city. He worked for them all, creating weapons of hideous damage for each. The fact that he sold to their enemies as well didn’t deter any underworld boss from doing business with him. He was simply that good at killing people.

  Doc Pemberley walked up the stairs to the second story of his home, moving so quietly that the two men assigned to guard a certain door didn’t hear him. Their names were Vince and Coley and they were little more than vicious dogs on two legs. They would have worked for Pemberley for free as long as he kept providing violent entertainment.

  Vince’s voice carried a bit more and his words were what had led to Pemberley’s decision to use stealth. "That girl needs to be put down. Did you see what she did to Jake? The guy looked like a prune when he died. It was like every bit of water in the guy had been drained out!"

  Coley shifted his weight from foot to foot. He was a good bit shorter than Vince and a lot stockier. "The Doc says she can’t really control it so it ain’t her fault."

  "A rabid animal attacks and attacks ‘cause it’s sick in the brain," Vince retorted. "It ain’t really its fault, right? But you still gotta kill it or it’s just gonna hurt more people. Same with this dame."

  "The Doc says--"

  "I know what Pemberley says! But the man’s got a screw loose and everybody knows it! I like the guy ‘cause he keeps us busy, you know? But maybe this is one time he ain’t thinking straight."

  "Gentlemen."

  Vince and Coley both froze in place, their heads turning in unison toward Pemberley. He stood very close to Vince, his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his lab coat.

  "Boss," Vince said, sounding a bit shaky. Though he was far larger than Pemberley, there was no denying the fear that shone in his eyes. "I want to explain."

  "There’s no need," Pemberley replied. "I understand completely."

  Vince sighed, looking relieved. "You do? That’s great. I was just saying that I thought maybe you were wrong on this one. Nobody’s perfect, right?"

  "Certainly. I obviously made a mistake when I hired you." Pemberley’s right hand slid from his pocket, a scalpel held in his palm. The hallway light flashed off its polished surface. Doc Pemberley swung the weapon with practiced ease, expertly slicing through Vince’s throat in such a way that there would be no hope of saving him. He was going to bleed out right there in the hallway.

  Vince’s eyes widened and he reached up with both hands to clutch at his throat. He staggered away, bumping into Coley, who was watching him with a face bleached of all color. Vince tumbled into the railing, his momentum causing him to flip right over it. He fell to the first floor, landing with a sickening thud.

  Pemberley reached out and cleaned his scalpel on Coley’s lapel. "Is there anything you’d like to say to me, Mr. Coley?"

  Coley blinked, swallowing hard. "I’m sorry?"

  "Good enough for now. I don’t brook insubordination. It makes me feel like I can’t trust you. And we should all trust one another, shouldn’t we?"

  "You bet, boss."

  "Good. Now go clean up the mess downstairs while I check in on Miss Nero."

  Coley hurried away, grateful that he wasn’t sharing his partner’s fate. Not today, at least.

  ***

  Samantha Grace walked slowly toward the brownstone, her heels clicking on the cobblestones. Morgan Watts was right behind her, his eyes glued to the swaying motion of her hips. Though they engaged in constant bantering, there was nothing particularly romantic about their relationship. Morgan would certainly have been open to such a thing but Samantha kept herself at a distance from most men and Morgan wondered if she wasn’t secretly carrying a torch for Lazarus. He hoped not, because
he had a feeling that it would only lead to heartache for the pretty girl.

  The Chief had dispatched the two of them out here for reasons mostly unknown to Morgan. Gray had simply said that he needed them to check in on the place and that he had reason to suspect that Doc Pemberley or his associates might be making use of the residence. Morgan was familiar with the doctor, having bumped into him on many occasions back in his criminal days. Pemberley had been a strange sort and Morgan had made sure to never spend too much time alone with the man.

  "Should we just give a knock?" Samantha asked, standing outside the front door.

  "How about you let me do that and you look around the back?"

  Samantha gave a pixyish grin. "Don’t you think they’ll be more relaxed if they see me standing here than you? Or are you just worried that little old me is going to get hurt?"

  Morgan frowned. "Quit kidding around, would you? Pemberley’s a nasty one. If he’s hanging around this place, we both have to be on our toes."

  "Fine, Morgan. You don’t have to be surly about it." Pouting, Samantha began moving around the side of the house, not sparing another glance at her companion. Morgan felt like calling after her but he held his tongue. She was right about him not wanting her to get hurt but he didn’t want to admit it. Besides, he reasoned, Pemberley might remember him. If he did, then Morgan might be able to come up with some explanation for what he was doing there. What would Samantha say? That she was going door-to-door selling cookies?

  Morgan was about to knock on the door when he heard a loud thud come from inside the house. It sounded like something very heavy had been tossed from one floor to the next. He tried the door but found it locked and some sixth sense told him that now would not be a good time to alert anyone to his presence. Whatever had happened in there couldn’t have been a good thing.

  Taking a step back, Morgan noticed a vine-covered trellis that led to an open second floor window. Quickly glancing around, Morgan made a quick decision. He tested the trellis to see if it could hold his weight and, after deciding that it could, he threw himself into the act of climbing up to the exposed window.

 

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