by Judith Lucci
Yahwa laughed outright at the man and said, "Nazir, I heard monkeys carry a lot of diseases. A lot of viruses. Did you know that?"
Nazir said nothing but continued to examine the organ grinder carefully. He was vaguely familiar. He didn’t think it was Vadim but he had a calliope too. This man looked younger.
Yahwa went up to the monkey, made lewd gestures at him, and poked a finger in his face. The monkey screamed a blood-curdling yell at Yahwa, jumped from the organ grinder's shoulder, and in an instant, bit Yahwa on the arm. As the monkey jumped to bite Yahwa again, the organ grinder pulled at the leash around his neck, halting the angry primate.
The organ grinder growled at Yahwa and said, "Keep away! My monkey bite again." The organ grinder made a menacing gesture with his arm.
Yahwa was shocked at the money's actions but recovered quickly. He screamed every curse word he knew in Arabic, and then a few in English, and enraged, moved toward the organ grinder.
The organ grinder said in broken English, "No come closer. Will bite again. You be sorry."
Nazir, who had recovered by this time, jerked Yahwa back, and said, "Enough, brother. Your hand is bleeding badly."
Surprised, Yahwa checked his arm and hand. The monkey had bitten him twice. The monkey's teeth had pierced the radial artery in his wrist and blood was spurting freely.
Quickly, Nazir pulled out a white handkerchief and tied it around Yahwa's wrist. Then he ran over to a street vendor and came back with an ice-cold bottle of water, which he held against the wound. The blood flow seemed to slow down, but did not stop.
Nazir shook his head. "You need to go to the hospital. You may need stitches and some injections. Monkeys can cause a lot of diseases. I can take you. My car is close. We can talk on the way."
"No, never. I want no Western medicine. Let it bleed freely. It will take all of the germs away. Let us go and eat. I am hungry." Yahwa was fiercely adamant and defiant.
Nazir shrugged his shoulders and said nothing else.
The two men stopped at a small café and went inside to escape the late afternoon heat. The place was empty.
Yahwa grabbed several white napkins and held them against his wounds. The bites were hurting and stinging. He couldn't believe the pain. He focused on the menu and prayed to Allah for the pain to stop.
After they ordered, and were served, Nazir asked the inevitable. "What about security? What do you know?"
Yahwa grinned and said, "I know a lot. I know it all. Triple patrols and video surveillance cameras everywhere. I know the details, and I know where the undercover police officers will be stationed and where the FBI snipers will be located. I even know who they are. There is FBI, Secret Service and I can identify those agents as well and can point them out to our brothers. I also know the route for that infidel, the American President, so we can station our people so that they will not miss. It will not be a problem."
Nazir nodded. "Excellent. Tell me more. The leaders are coming from the North tonight and meeting at my apartment. They will want details. I need all of the specifics."
Yahwa continued, "There are plainclothes police all over the hospital and National Guard on the outside. I also have the electrical design and detailed plans for the hotel where the American President will most likely speak, but the exact location remains uncertain. I will pass it on to our people."
"What makes you so sure they will not change the location of the President's speech many times?"
"I know all of the possible locations as well. I have this covered. We will be successful." Yahwa was confident and wore a smirk on his face.
Nazir found this discomforting. He nodded his approval. "Good, brother. Give me the details for tonight. I will trust them to my memory. Nothing will be written."
"No. I cannot, Nazir, I will be at that meeting. You need to know nothing. I will share with Mohammad Abdu and the others when they arrive. You will learn when the others learn."
Yahwa noted the look of uncertainty on Nazir's face and added, "You know what the American special forces say, 'if I tell you, I will have to kill you'." Yahwa was trying to be funny but it wasn't working.
Paranoia crept up Nazir's back. What was happening? Were the leaders checking up on him? Was Yahwa held in higher esteem than he was? As the uncertainty increased and continued to crawl up his spine, Nazir did the best he could to disguise his feelings. "What do you know of the viral outbreak at the hospital? I am sure you know it is not the virus we planned."
Yahwa nodded, exasperated. "I do know that, and once again, I will share tonight. As you know, the least said the least confusion and misinterpretation. I am leaving. I am not feeling well, and want to rest before midnight. My arm hurts still and I want to elevate it. Praise Allah."
Nazir repeated praise for Allah and watched as Yahwa left the café and headed uptown. His heart was hammering in his chest. He was paralyzed by fear and suspicion. He needed to talk to his only friend, his brother, and quickly punched Ali's number into his cell phone.
Chapter 19
Alex welcomed Robert and Yvette warmly. She hugged Maddy Jeanfreau, who she knew only slightly, primarily from her friendship with Robert and Jack. Once again, it was an old New Orleans relationship. The three physicians had grown up together. Alex suggested wine and Robert ushered the three ladies into Alex's beautifully renovated kitchen.
Yvette was stunned by the beauty of Alex's fully restored uptown home. "Did you plan the redesign alone? It is absolutely spectacular. What a lovely blend of antiques and colors."
Alex was pleased and said, "Yes, I did. I’ve had many of these antiques for years. Robert and I used to study at this kitchen table. We bought it many years ago when we were in school. Other pieces are from my home in Virginia. My grandmother's attic and barns are full of old pieces from her family as well as my grandfather’s family. Some of them date back to the Revolutionary War."
Robert intervened and said, "Maddy, you and Yvette may not know that Alex's ancestors are part of the Lee family of Virginia, Lee as in Robert E. Lee and that group of fine folks."
"Wow, that's just amazing. Impressive. I have never known anyone, except for maybe Robert, who could date his lineage that far back. I'm in awe," Yvette smiled as she gave Alex a hug.
Alex shrugged and said, "From what I know about my ancestors, they were a bunch of stubborn old goats who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Horse thieves as well, though we don’t tell everyone that part. They're a feisty bunch for sure. Wait until you meet my grandfather. He's coming tomorrow, and he is a Lee to the core.” She turned to Robert and quipped, “Granddad and Robert struggled with their relationship over the years but they are fond of each other, right Robert?"
Robert grinned and looked sheepish for a moment. "Yes, Adam Patrick Lee is one of the most interesting, honorable men I have ever met. He is dogmatic, ethical, impressive, and stubborn as a mule. Of course, he didn't think any man was good enough for Alex. Add to that the fact that our political views were totally different made life thorny for several years."
"True, but in the end, you all were the best of friends, and still are, " Alex reported, smiling warmly at Robert. She turned to Maddy and Yvette, "You'll meet my grandparents tomorrow most likely. Granddad is devastated over the death of Congressman Benjamin Blankenship, the guy murdered this morning in the Quarter. The Blankenships are close family friends and he was my grandfather’s protégé in Congress."
Maddy nodded and said, "Tragic, it was absolutely tragic. The Congressman's death is heartbreaking. I heard he had young children."
Alex nodded sadly and said, “Yes, two beautiful young children, a son and a daughter. His wife is lovely as well. It just shouldn’t have happened.”
Maddy continued, “I know. He was killed exactly in the same manner as the others who have died in the Quarter. So sorry, Alex, for your grief." Maddy touched her arm in condolence.
Alex nodded as Robert handed each of them a glass of Pinot Noir. They drank deeply. The wine was good,
the bouquet enticing and the taste lingered on the palate. Alex was glad she had three bottles. She felt like drinking the first one by herself. It had been a most upsetting day. As they headed to Alex's garden room for cheese and fruit, Alex's door chimes sounded again. Robert offered to answer and Alex waved him forward.
"Oh my gosh, Alex, this is the most magnificent painting I have ever seen! It’s absolutely beautiful. Where ever did you find such a beautiful work of art? ‘ is spectacular! The colors are to die for." Yvette was awestruck by the beautiful 5 x 5 foot painting in Alex's garden room. The painting showed three lavender, pink, and purple orchids that beckoned as one entered the marble-tiled room. The painting completed the immense beauty of the room.
Alex smiled broadly, pleased that Yvette had noticed. "Isn't it stunning? It is a Karen Sistek original. She's a world famous silk artist I studied with several years ago in Washington State. In my humble opinion, she is the best silk artist in the world. I love her work.”
“Silk, this painting is on silk?” Yvette exclaimed as she moved closer to examine the beautiful picture.
“Yes. The painting is actually on silk. It's not watercolor as most people think." Alex was secretly pleased that her new friends had noticed. She loved the painting as much as she loved Karen and Rick Sistek. Karen was a wonderful friend, and there was nothing Alex wanted more than to return to her studio in Port Angeles and spend a week doing nothing but silk painting and eating Rick’s gourmet cooking.
Maddy moved closer to examine the orchids, "Silk? I’ve never seen a silk painting. Is that something new? It’s exquisite. I want one. Does she do commissions?"
"Me, too," Yvette chimed in. "I want one as well."
"I am sure she will. She will do anything you would like. She’s a wonderful person and easy to work with. Her work is the best. And, to answer your question, Maddy, silk painting is an old art that is fairly new in the U.S. The number of silk painters is growing. I will give you both her contact information. I have several of her paintings that I’ll show you before you leave. This is just the largest." Alex turned to the sound of male voices entering from the kitchen. She was surprised to see Jack and Secret Service Agent Travis Stoner.
Stoner was smiling. "Ms. Destephano, please forgive me for crashing your party. Commander Françoise assured me you wouldn't mind and I wanted to hear what Dr. Jeanfreau found in her autopsy of Congressman Blankenship." Stoner looked around the room and added, "You have a lovely home, Ms. Destephano. That picture of those orchids is amazing. I’ve never seen anything like that in my life. My wife would die for that!"
"I am delighted to have you, Agent Stoner. You are absolutely welcome. Would you like some wine?"
"I would love wine but had best stick to coffee. Can I have a rain check until Sunday?"
"Of course you can. Let me get you coffee. Jack, would you like coffee as well?" Jack nodded and followed Alex into the kitchen to prepare a tray.
Stoner moved closer to Maddy Jeanfreau and Yvette Charmaine and greeted them formally. "Good evening, ladies. I'm the Secret Service party crasher. I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not," they said in unison. "We all need a break after today," Yvette suggested. “Would you like some cheese?"
As Agent Stoner accepted some cheese from the tray in Yvette's hand, he turned to Maddy and asked, “Dr. Jeanfreau is there anything significant about the murder of Benjamin Blankenship I need to know?"
"Please, call me Maddy. Every time someone calls me Dr. Jeanfreau, I look around for my husband. I guess that's because he was an MD before me." Maddy smiled at Stoner and added, "To answer your question, no. There is very little difference in the death of Congressman Blankenship and the deaths of LaMont and Hayes. Most likely, the weapon is the same. Same MO. Same positioning. There was virtually no blood to speak of. The victim died from exsanguination just as the others did. If there is any difference at all, it’s that the killer drained this victim's blood more slowly. I could tell by the perfusion of his internal organs."
Stoner arched his eyebrows and frowned. "Why would he do that? What does that mean, in your opinion?"
Maddy answered, thinking what a handsome man the agent was as she formulated her reply. "I would imagine the killer was making a point. This time he only had one victim, he had more time, and he made his victim suffer longer. Perhaps he’s sending us a message that he has great control over whom and when he kills. At least, that's my take."
Yvette shook her head. "These crimes are hideous and gruesome. The killer is a psychopath to say the very least."
"He's a serial killer. No question. He killed the two kids the same day that he killed LaMont and Hayes. I don't think the crimes are related but the MO is the same," Jack reported as he entered the garden room, a cup of coffee in hand, “unless, of course, he was practicing his style and timing with the kids.”
Stoner looked thoughtful and nodded, "Perhaps he was practicing. Timing the event with the kids. Getting the kinks out of his technique. Was the Congressman's body moved?"
Maddy nodded. “Forensics are still out, but I think so. My best guess is yes. There was minimal blood, but it's difficult to be sure because the body was discovered fairly quickly after the murder. That makes it harder to tell."
"Who found the body?"
"Once again it was an anonymous call to the Mayor's Office from a burn phone. NOPD couldn't trace the call, and they responded quickly. The killer wanted this information out immediately. And he got his way. It was all over the news channels in a matter of minutes and has been since this afternoon."
Alex returned to the room with coffee, listened for a few moments, and handed the coffee to Travis Stoner who accepted it gratefully.
Jack nodded and opined. “I agree with Stoner. He wanted people to know he had killed another politician, perhaps sending the message of a two-pronged attack against the politicians coming for Operation Fix America. He was threatening both – the virus and a threat of murder – assuming we find the two are related."
"Jack, do you think the two are related? The virus and the murders?" Alex waited quietly for his answer.
Jack reached for some cheese and answered, "My gut says no. We've had these kinds of murders in the Quarter for years. I think the virus is separate, but as Stoner and Bodine have said, we cannot be sure. Are they related because the last three are political? Perhaps. Consequently, I must agree with Stoner that we cannot negate the possibility. Of course, there's always the chance of murder for hire, right Stoner?”
Stoner nodded, “Possibly. I’d be more likely to agree if the murders were a little different. Don’t think we can say for sure.”
"What about the fact that three of the murders are political?" Robert continued with his questions.
Jack thought for a moment and responded, "That would suggest to me that they are related and that there is possibly a copycat killer. A copycat St. Germaine. I don't know if these murders are related to the same or similar murders in the Quarter over the years. But, that is simply my theory at this time. It could change."
Stoner nodded. “Yeah, that’s a new angle.”
A tingling sensation crept up Alex's spine as feelings of apprehension washed over her. "Jack, you say we have had these kinds of murders in the Quarter for years. What do you mean by that? Have there been more that I don't know about?" Alex was curious about the local murders that she had been hearing about for several years. Hadn't Martin mentioned them earlier?
Jack's face was grim as he turned to Robert, Yvette and Maddy and answered, "Yes, Alex, ever since I can remember. My father investigated similar murders. They've been around for years and years.”
Yvette’s face paled and she spoke almost in a whisper, "Jack, you're talking about St. Germaine, aren't you?"
Jack’s eyes locked with Yvette as he nodded.
Robert shook his head.
St. Germaine. That's the third time today. Who the hell is St. Germaine? Alex made a mental note to ask Jack after everything
settled down, but for now, she had hostess duties. "Folks, dinner is ready. Grab a plate, fill it in the kitchen, and join us in the dining room. I know you’re all starved."
The banter around the dining room table was as cheerful as the cocktail hour had been grim. The food was superb and the salad fresh. Robert kept the wine glasses filled as Alex refilled water goblets and coffee cups.
Finally, Yvette asked, "Agent Stoner ... Travis, is there anything else we need to know?” She glanced at her watch and continued, “I may have to leave soon if the hospital calls and I'd like to be up to date." Out of respect for each other and the need for a break, everyone had turned off their cell phones during the dinner hour, except of course, Agent Stoner.
The fun was over, and the lighthearted repartee ended as all eyes focused on the Secret Service Agent.
Stoner put down his fork and said, "Yes, there is more internet chatter. The chatter suggests the Red Jihad and there is a definite attack planned against the President. We also think there are plans to release the virus as some sort of a gas through several hotel ventilation systems. The threat is credible. We are marshalling every asset we can to prevent it. The news is not good but we are doing all we can to defuse everything that we can. That’s about all I know now."
A pall permeated the group. A dark cloud blacked out the beauty of Alex’s beautiful crystal chandelier and a shroud blanketed the group.
There were several long minutes of silence until Maddy piped up and said, "Alex, didn't I see a chocolate cheesecake in the kitchen? Can I get it? It's telling me to come and get it."
"Maddy, the cheesecake is talking to you?" Alex asked with a laugh.
"Yeah, it is. It wants us to eat it." Maddy smiled brightly into the group.
Robert looked at Jack and joked, "Commander, where is Monique when we need her? Your medical examiner is talking to a cheesecake. Are you worried?"
