As her fear escalated, she decided to send a text. Just in case. Just leaving Kramers. In a Diamond Cab. Think I’m in danger. Help. Lishan. Before she could decide who to send it to, the cab began slowing by a park. It was dark, unlit. In a hurry, she snapped a photo of the back of the driver, capturing part of his face in the rearview mirror, then sent it to her last contact—Jimmy.
Rudy yelled at her, reaching back to take her phone, but she moved away. Then her attention shifted to a tall figure approaching in a gray overcoat.
Lishan could see the silver Lincoln Escalade parked in front of the taxi. Her eyes grew round as she recognized the approaching male. Jack Conner. She thought about leaving the taxi, but the driver had already gotten out, covering the driver’s side rear door, while Conner opened the door next to Lishan.
“Hello, little girl. How nice to see you again.”
Lishan bristled. “You won’t get away with this.”
“Ah, such a classic line. I suppose a person resorts to clichés when faced with the unthinkable.”
Lishan melted into the far corner.
“I just wanted to see your face, one last time. You know, for old time’s sake. I’ll be at my villa, while you…Let’s just say you won’t be quite as comfortable as you’ve been. In fact, you won’t be comfortable at all. Maybe you will, though, depending on your beliefs about reincarnation.”
Conner reached over and pinched her cheek. Lishan wasn’t fast enough to stop him, but she followed with a glancing uppercut to his nose—a potential deathblow she learned in martial arts—but her punch wasn’t solid enough.
Conner arched back, surprised. His nose hurt like hell, blood dripping on his coat. Then he just laughed.
“Goodbye, Lishan. Too bad you won’t be any more trouble to me. It was quite a sport, really.”
Conner got out of the taxi, standing close to ensure Lishan didn’t leave the confines of the backseat. Rudy was already in place, ready to drive off.
Conner just smiled and waved. He loved winning.
As Rudy sped off, Lishan could feel her life dangling before her. She couldn’t quite believe it. This is how it ends? Bastard.
As Rudy picked up even greater speed, Lishan noticed there was no metal or plastic guard behind the driver’s seat. She took a deep breath and lunged toward his head, reaching around each side of his head, poking into his eye sockets. Rudy’s strength extended to his face, and he clamped his cheeks as tight as he could against his eyebrows to buy him a few seconds. In the process, he grabbed her wrists, instinctively bringing his knee up to hold the steering wheel straight.
But his loss of visuals along with the excess speed was too much for the curve up ahead. They were passing through a neighborhood. He hit the center divider and bounced to the right, sideswiping several parked cars before slamming into a parked Porsche 911T. The airbag deployed, distracting Rudy and giving Lishan the moment for escape she needed. She was out the right rear door and running behind the wreckage, hoping to get around the curve before Rudy could get a bead on her.
The airbag slowed his exit from the car, but he could just glimpse Lishan as she rounded the curve. Rudy fired off two rounds. But he knew his chances were slim at that distance with his short-barreled pistol.
A few lights turned on in the neighboring residences, then extinguished as people decided it best to remain in the dark.
Lishan ran as quickly as she safely could. Falling and injuring herself could be her fatal mistake. She stopped to look back, surprised that Rudy was only about one hundred feet behind her, quickly closing the distance while she stood for those few seconds. She took off again, dodging slightly left and right, hearing a windshield shatter to her right.
She didn’t dare stop again to look behind her, though the uncertainty challenged her anxiety all the more. Finally, she heard sirens, thankful that the neighbors didn’t take kindly to collisions and gunshots in their neighborhood.
As two Metropolitan Police cars arrived, both squealed to a stop where they saw Lishan, who quickly ran behind the closest car. The two officers, spotting Rudy, drew their weapons as he took shelter behind a car.
But Rudy was no slouch, holding NRA titles in marksmanship. He shot the arm of the closest officer, one who apparently misjudged the capabilities of the slightly heavy, older man they intended to arrest. While the alarmed officer momentarily withdrew from sight to assess his wound, Rudy lobbed a grenade under the black-and-white. Seconds later, there was only one police car, and one policeman, left.
The grenade put a new perspective in the minds of the remaining officer and Lishan. Standing behind a car was no longer necessarily a safe bet. They saw Rudy begin to ready another grenade, pressing them to run behind another parked car. But they heard no explosion. Instead, a shotgun blast came from a second-story window. The policeman looked up to see a barrel protruding, held by an elderly, silver-haired woman, one eye squinted.
The officer ran up alongside a parked car from where he could see Rudy, who was holding both shoulders where they were bleeding. Rudy inched along the ground toward the grenade, not giving up.
The officer sprinted to Rudy and pulled him away from the grenade, not wanting to disturb it. Rudy’s gun lay next to it. A quick frisk found another handgun and a switchblade.
Within a few minutes, six black and whites had converged on the block, along with an ambulance. News of a downed or slain officer traveled fast.
Over the next half hour, Lishan gave her story, along with the grandmother who had taken Rudy down. The officer filling out the paperwork leaned up against a shiny black Shelby sitting in the driveway in front of grandma’s house.
“Hey, don’t scratch my car,” the grandmother yelled.
The officer smiled at her verve and made a notation or two on the form about a “feisty elder,” and her hot car. Then he asked Lishan, “Where can we take you?”
Lishan thought about home—wherever that was, tonight—and then her aunt. But for the remainder of the night, she just wanted some ease.
“The Quincy Hotel, on L, if that works for you. If they don’t have a room, I’ll find one nearby.”
As they drove off, another ambulance appeared. When the paramedics gathered up Rudy, it appeared he was still alive.
The MPDC officer was pleasant and exceptionally understanding. Upon arrival at the hotel, he asked if she would like him to wait. Lishan declined but thanked him for his generosity.
59
Lishan finally let herself feel relief as she entered the lobby. Then she heard the reminder on her phone. Jimmy had called, asking if she was all right. After receiving the mysterious photo of a taxi driver and the message, he had called the cops.
Ah, Lishan thought to herself. I need to call him, but I must call Auntie first.
After checking in, she realized she had no bags, but it was no matter. The king studio room had two robes—all the comfort she needed.
Lishan felt tears as she sat on the bed, but she wasn’t ready yet to let down her guard. She took in the quiet, her space for the night.
She placed the call to Niesha.
Upon hearing her niece’s voice, well after midnight, Niesha stood abruptly. “Tell me you’re okay.”
Lishan spoke as quickly as she could so her auntie’s fears would not gain too much ground. “I’m alright, now, Auntie. I’m at the Quincy. Rudy Conner tried to murder me in a taxi, but he failed. He’s in jail. Jack Conner accosted me while I was in the taxi. Then he left. I know he’s leaving the country. I’ll explain all the details later.”
“Lishan! Are you sure you’re okay? Shouldn’t you come over? You know where I am.” Niesha finally slowed. “Okay, you stay put. I’ll alert Maya about Jack Conner and Rudy. You call the minute you need me. No exceptions.”
“I’m just exhausted, Auntie. Yes, I’m fine. I’ve stayed here before, kind of a home away from home when I’m not at your comfortable place.” Lishan begged off the phone. She just didn’t want to explain the entire dram
a on the phone. She also didn’t want to be alone.
She started to text Jimmy but decided a text message was too impersonal, given her time with him earlier.
“Am I correct that musicians are always up until four in the morning? This is Lishan.”
“You discovered our secret, yeah. Is it all irie with you, Lishan? Should I be worried?”
“I suppose I’m alright. I just wanted to call you after sending that obscure photo.” Lishan gave the short version of the past hour. “Thank you for calling the police, and also for such a sweet time tonight.”
“Thank you. And yes, a sweet time. All is not right with you at this late hour, is it? Just ask if you would like my help, my company. I’m a good listener. Any time. Ten minutes from now. Doesn’t matter.”
Unequivocal compassion, she thought.
They spoke of making a lunch date sometime soon, then hung up.
Lishan lay back on the bed, her breathing finally slowing. A few minutes later, a whim made her smile.
“Ten minutes have gone by. Would you be up for joining me until that bewitching hour, helping me sort out a few things, like Erik, relationships, where I’m headed? Is that fair to you? I can’t sleep.”
“Fair? Yes, of course. What brand of nourishment may I bring?”
Lishan felt a mild giddiness at the level of refinement and gentlemanly manner of this man.
“Let’s see. There’s coffee in my room, but no baguette, cheese, or dry red wine.” She could hear Jimmy’s smile.
“I know just the late-night deli. How shall I find you?”
Lishan began with cryptic directions in reference to where they had been earlier—unnamed over the phone. She was still nervous about her phone being tapped. Then she remembered—Rudy had already known her whereabouts. Perhaps Conner did as well. Yet, with Mazzini gone and Rudy under wraps, she felt she could breathe just a bit easier for the night. “I’m at the Quincy, on L. Let me know when you’re entering the lobby, and I’ll come down and run interference.”
She imagined two strikes of a ship’s bell when Jimmy appeared in the lobby, carrying a cloth bag of Jamaican colors—black, green, and yellow—containing the goods.
Lishan suddenly said, “Can we sit for a moment?” Her breathing had become laborious, hesitant.
He sat next to her, holding her hand to help her feel comforted. They sat there, on a lobby couch, until her breathing eased.
As they ascended to her fourth-story room, a sense of relief finally overtook Lishan.
“Comforting room,” Jimmy offered, earnestly, as he took in the colors, touching the fabrics. He unloaded a baguette, a block of Pecorino, and a Hess pinot noir along with some miscellany.
“What are those?” Lishan’s inquisitiveness had her peering over his shoulder.
“Ah, Jamaican specialties: patty and coco bread. The deli owner keeps a Jamaican section. And I brought a small roll of our ‘no worries’ Rasta weed, but only partake if you are comfortable with it. It is a wonderful sorting tool, though. Speaking of which?”
With an array—a feast, really—in front of them spread on the Queen Anne coffee table, they settled into a floral-patterned loveseat.
“Yes, sorting. As I arrived here tonight, I found some of my concerns of the past couple of weeks temporarily behind me. Erik, though, I just don’t know. I don’t know what you gathered when we talked at Kramer’s? I know it was hard to hear at times.”
Jimmy turned toward Lishan. “I have a sense. Talk to me, dear.”
Lishan gave a troubled smile. “I always believed Erik and I would be together, but I realize that I, for one, have held back. Is it something in him, or in me, that causes me to question? Perhaps I’ve subconsciously kept a few bricks in the wall these past few years, I don’t know. In our last brief phone conversation, he hurt me, but it wasn’t, or didn’t appear to be, simply a fleeting error. He just didn’t seem to care about me in that moment.”
Lishan paused, as though searching. “Also, I don’t know if he’s been hypercritical—he professed being hurt when I slept with someone else, as though it were something he wouldn’t do, yet I believe he’s had interludes with more than one student of his, and he hasn’t told me.”
“Can you imagine living without him?” Jimmy’s demeanor was tender, full of heart.
“I don’t know. The fight and flight has kept me on edge, but I also have doubts I need to understand. I draw him in, yet I push back. I think I’m afraid, but I don’t know whether it’s worries about myself, or him. He’s been as romantic as our platonic relationship has allowed, yet he’s presented an unexpected and upsetting anger on a few too many occasions. Then I divide this muddle by the death that almost enveloped me. What am I doing?”
Lishan’s cell phone rang. “Damn,” she said lightly. “Oops,” she added, though Jimmy didn’t express the slightest ruffle. “It’s Erik,” she announced, searching Jimmy’s face for direction.
“Maybe this will help in your search. Go ahead.”
“Hi,” she answered.
“Hi. I called to apologize.”
“Oh. I’m surprised, given your last call. But thank you.”
“What are you doing? Where are you?”
Lishan hesitated, but she felt okay about her actions. “I’m talking with my friend, Jimmy, trying to sort out my life. Someone tried to murder...”
“He’s there with you...now?”
Lishan could hear the annoyance already in Erik’s voice. “Well, yes he is. We’re just talking. I...”
Again he cut her off. “Where are you?”
“I’m in a hotel. I don’t know if your phone is tapped. I…”
“And you won’t tell me where?” Anger was building, yet again, in Erik’s voice.
Now it was Lishan’s turn. Her voice rose, firm and controlling. “This isn’t about you, Erik. This was about my attempt to keep my location under wraps. If you...”
“Is he staying...”
“Quit interrupting me. Your rudeness is unbecoming.”
“Are you sleeping with him?” The tone was accusing.
Lishan’s irritation heightened. “Listen, Erik. He came by for awhile so we could talk. He’s helping me. Did you hear me say I was almost murdered?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“No.” Lishan’s face tightened, anger seeping out from her eyes.
“I don’t believe you.” Erik was now enraged, his mind losing control. “Everyone I ever loved lied to me. All those homes I lived in…they all lied. Lied. You are such a tramp.”
“Stop!” Lishan’s anger was full force. “Mr. Andersson. It’s not that I mind a reference to whoring—‘prude’ I’m not. But your intent to bully me, to harm me emotionally, is not okay. I feel sorry for you.” Lishan drew a deep breath before continuing. “I wish you well, Erik. Goodbye.” That was it. Fini.
Lishan looked over at Jimmy. “You heard his last? It was so loud.”
“Yes. I’m thinking your boundaries and your sorting just came together.”
Lishan let out a single laugh. “Curiously, I feel no tears. Not one, though I know they’ll come. I was in a relationship some years ago with a guy who was sweet as could be most of the time, but once or twice a week he would get angry—very angry, mostly without any provocation from me. Later, after he calmed from each outburst, he blamed it on his childhood, which I believed and had compassion for, but he did nothing about it. I’m not planning a repeat. I remember an expression about returning to a restaurant over and over, though the bad food never improved.”
Lishan’s gaze shifted to the wall in front of her, though her focus was miles away. She stood and walked to her messenger bag, withdrawing her journal.
“I need to erase Erik from an appointment. Do you mind if I make a note?”
“Closure. I understand. Take your time.” Jimmy walked to a window, looking out over the D.C. landscape.
The thirteenth. It was to have been a special day. Impermanence, the
Buddha said. As she erased Erik’s name, she looked over at Jimmy.
Lishan’s tears finally came, and she cried while Jimmy held her. A long yawn prompted her to check the time on her cell phone.
Lishan sat up. “Jimmy, I don’t think I can stay up much longer. I don’t know how you do it.”
“I sleep in and often manage a siesta midday.” Standing, he gathered his sandals and his cloth bag containing his wallet and a stash of personal items. At the door, he turned to face Lishan.
“You have my number. I would encourage your using it, no matter the reason. Most importantly, though, keep yourself safe. We need your voice in the world, especially since many people in this country are, unfortunately, silent.”
At the door, a comforting embrace closed their hours together before Jimmy walked to the elevator.
On impulse, Lishan called to him in nearly a whisper, “Do you have any special plans on the thirteenth?”
Jimmy turned and smiled warmly, withdrawing from his bag a small journal in which he wrote a note with a small heart next to it.
60
After a delectable blend of sweet and savory for breakfast the next morning, Lishan prepared for the Senate Committee on Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions hearing she was attending later that morning. An Internet search afforded her the additional details any worthy journalist should be aware of before attending meetings and interviews. She didn’t have a change of clothes—her attire from the previous night would have to do.
As the coffee peeled back Lishan’s eyelids, she decided on a taxi. She caught her breath as a Yellow pulled up, but she felt that particular drama in her life was over after last night. As she arrived in the Senate hearing room in the Dirksen Senate Office Building, she looked for the least conspicuous seating—she had nearly forgotten her life was potentially in danger, but the crowd brought it all back. She spotted Maya in the back right of the room and took a vacant seat next to her.
They exchanged events of the past couple of days, followed by Maya’s pointing to two U.S. marshals lingering in the wings, in case Conner appeared. Maya said his ego was of a size that gave him a false sense of security.
Silence Her Page 30
