Painfully, Rogers did his best to get to his feet, hanging onto the rail the best he could as he did. Locke raised the gun menacingly for another quick shot, and was about to pull the trigger, when the inspector cut in.
“Wait!” he said out of breath. Locke hesitated then relaxed his trigger finger, still holding the gun to Rogers head. “What do you want? Talk fast, flatfoot.”
Anthony Rogers nodded humbly.
“I admit it. You got me” he said in a low hiss “You got me. I see now I ain’t getting here with a pulse. Just can a dying man have one last request!”
“What” Locke snapped sending a sea of spittle over the surrendering inspector.
“I would like to smoke my last cigarette?” Rogers replied “Surely you can’t deny a doomed man a last cigarette, before he well I buy the farm. Please at least give me that courtesy?”
A crafty look narrowed Locke’s eyes, as he threw a sly glance at the ominous glass pit and it’s slithering resident. So he lowered his gun and nodded.
“Okay” he said “Lap it up, go ahead.”
Rogers felt in his pocket for a Zippo and his green cigarette holder. Finding it and placing it between his teeth. Then after finding a slightly bent cigarette, he straightened it, ready to light, in it’s green holder. Simultaneously, Locke sprang forward when the Inspector’s head was slightly turned, and with a sudden show of strength. Shoved the detective through the railing, hurling him cruelly into the deep moving glass pit.
Chapter Twelve
The great slithery beast, reared up in pain and shock. If the beast could talk it would scream in agony. It’s arrow like head slashed around in an angered strike and knocked Monroe’s still warm corpse clear across the bottom of the pit. The pythons rows of hook like teeth bit into Monroe’s bloodied clothes. Non-venomous but still enough to chew and bite viciously. The two crushing loops of the reptile like horror fell over the dead man, each loop encircled him and began to contract and constrict. The muscles rippling small eddies, beneath the scaly skin. It was a horrid spectacle- a python crushing a dead man. Rogers stood by, as yet unhurt, watching. Just watching the gruesome scene in lethargic fascination and a sick kind of awe. When, suddenly above him. He heard a harsh and bitter cry, Locke had just watched his master plan go down hill fast. Stackpole's former partner had shot down his snake based execution and escape, and worse the dead oaf had saved the inspector. He knew the snake would go straight to the dead hunk of meat, and completely ignore Anthony Rogers.
Especially seeing as the now crushed Monroe would be an easier morsel to swallow. Unlike the very much alive Rogers who knew from experience that a python could never gulp down any man due to the width of his shoulders. Let alone his frame, which was more sharp and angular than most. Crazily Locke levelled his pistol, as his arm shook while attempting to aim.
Rogers was almost taken off guard. Until he saw that the ugly black nozzle of the automatic pistol, had now drawn a bead in a straight b-line straight between the eyes. Time seemed to slow to a crawl Rogers senses were now electric he heard the squeeze of the trigger and the metallic whistle of the bullet through the air. In that void of time Rogers hurled himself acrobatically along the floor of the pit. For the first time since this case began he felt the surge of the mythical viper take him. His eyes blazed an emerald green and for the first time the ancient snake spirit had come alive. The man known as Anthony Rogers had gone, only the Viper existed now in this moment.
Time snapped back as the gun spat out flame and death. The slug tore the vipers coat and crashed against the walled of the glass pit. Cracking the glass and leaving an irregular footing against the side of the wall. The Viper had now vaulted back to his feet. The strange green cigarette holder back between his teeth. It was held taut poised against the stiff white of the Vipers teeth. Locke began to fire again, erratically. Each shot going wild, breaking down the thick glass of the pit. Then after the tell tail click click of an empty gun, came a wail which filled the room, and seemed to echo off what remained of the thick tinted pit. Then the echo died, replaced by a whistling hiss like that of an angered pit viper or deadly black mamba. Locke’s eye’s were transfixed as for the first time he saw the man he thought of as nothing but an urban legend, The Viper in all his glory. His eyes had stopped being a stone grey and was now a glowing deep green, and his flesh was now a thick leathery scale that seemed to cover him, like that of his namesake, finally a small forked tongue darted and lapped the air hissing in the wind, ready to strike it prey. It was in that moment that Locke’s eyes bulged manically. A purplish treacle like ooze paraded from his flesh. His lips moved but Locke was silent. A thin trickle of blood now drained out slowly from his throat. From a pair of minute holes just a millimetre shy of his jugular vein. A tiny pair of black holes, like the bite of a snake left to small dart holes. Gruesomely, Stackpole Locke fought against the powerful neuro-toxin based viper venom, which was now racing through his bloodstream, slowly shutting down his bodily functions bit by bit. His last minute of life on this earth was filled with inhuman pain. The Viper watched with a dark pleasure, as Locke’s face slowly grew a decayed shade of black, as the toxic destruction grew greater. For a fleeting second Locke’s voice gained an almost audible rasp “Your——” he rasped again. A heavy death rattle sounding in his throat “The Viper...”
He fell forward into the pit, smashing down on his face and rolling onto his back, dead.
The Viper began to express a pained frown as if he was being forced to leave, eventually it seemed to work as the glowing green eyes dimmed back to their normal grey hue, a green like glowing fog seemed to evaporate from his pours and out into the air, until The Viper was replaced by Inspector Anthony Rogers. The inspector was exhausted from the inward struggle between him and the snake demon he locked within, and it took a little while longer than he would have liked to clamber out of the pit using the cracks made by all the gunfire. Atop the pit he saw that the python had already swallowed the head of Monroe and was fighting to swallow the former fat-man’s shoulders even if it was impossibility. From out of nowhere came an oh so welcoming sound of a police whistle, the shrill rasp of its owner had cut through the tide of dark silence Roger now stood in. Captain Costner and a handful of heavily armed policemen burst into the Importers pit-room. Almost at the exact time the last slithers of Rogers alter ego had trailed away on the winds, out into the Liberty City Night. Quickly Costner put a small stream of bullets through the skull of the real python “god I hate snakes” the captain spat as he walked to the inspector’s side. Leaning over the rail the police captain surveyed the macabre stream. His eyes clocking the two small darts embedded in the upturned throat of the man that was, Stackpole Locke. Finally whistling a long extended call to the sea of blue that had filled the room. Telling them all the room was safe and secure.
Job done.
“The Viper?” Costner exclaimed, like his men still not quite believing everything he was seeing. “Yes… Rogers said “The Viper, saved my life. Quick may I have your revolver?”
Costner looked over the practically foreign police inspector. His trademark green cigarette holder in Rogers hand caught his eye. Costner for the time being wasn’t going to say anything, instead he just passed his gun over. Could it be, it made sense Rogers and The Viper both come from out India way… it made sense to him, the pieces had all come together and he had resolved himself to the fact that if his hunch about Rogers was right, he’d keep his secret. Anthony Rogers went around to the rim of the pit, coming up on the packing crate. The one he clocked before everything went bloody, using the butt of the revolver as a hammer. He smashed a hole in the wooden crate, and unceremoniously ripped off the remains of the crates lid. To his surprise there was a trio of small baby pythons about a foot long. Rogers had a hunch that in all three specimens were smuggled goods. One had a small white playing card stencilled onto its head and neck. Fearlessly and without hesitation the inspector reached in and pulled the marked snake out with one fluid
quick motion. Holding it with one hand behind the creatures head, he put the snake under his shoe, and used the pistol to surgically remove the snakes small arrow shaped head. Then opening a penknife the inspector slit open the belly clean down the middle. Cutting through muscles and fatty sinew and muscle until with one final nick of the knife the stomach came free in his hand.
When Rogers stood up again he hooked the majority of the small stomachs contents onto the floor. Until he held a pair of jewels in his hand, which he tossed to the Captain. Both gleaming like fire in the Captain’s eyes, as the pair flew into his hands.
“The Dragon’s Eye” Costner exclaimed.
“Well half of it, by the looks” Rogers muttered “seems to have been cut in to. But for now I guess the case is over, well the Liberty end anyway.” Costner eyed the green cigarette holder for a second time, the fingers of his right hand fiddling with it. Until Rogers saw the captains look.
“But what of the Viper?” he asked, Anthony Rogers quickly pocketed the holder. His eyes just twinkled that tell tale I know the kind of unsaid promise between comrades. don’t worry your secrets safe he said the Bombay-an Inspector with nothing more than a single odd.
“That Viper character disappeared just before you came in, Sorry”
“Oh well never-mind. Probably for the best I guess, just wanted to shake his hand and say thanks. Maybe next time.”
“Yeah maybe” Rogers answered.
“Well, fancy that.” Morgan laughed dryly “Your lot, haven't heard a peep from you in days, I got the impression they were getting a tad worried!”
Louise took her high heels off the desk. Morgan hadn’t seen the dame for a few years now, and she was still an innocent police constable then. Now though, with the pair of three inch heels she sported he came to realize pretty quick that she was a different woman now. A total polar opposite to her partner Peggy Ellen. Louise Parish now seemed to prefer fashion and Ritz to practicality. But who was he to judge it had been five years. Wow blow me, five years has it been that long he thought, and she still looks amazing if only I’d… he snapped himself back out of that chain of thought fast. Sentiment would do him no good not any more, she was to good for me anyway, and she knows it. Either way they were both different to who they were then, thankfully the job takes all sorts, he concluded before continuing.
“I’ve been using the super’s passkey hun. You know to stake and snoop this place. I’ve been at it every night for the last two weeks. Anyway how’d you get in?” she asked curiously. Morgan jangled the key’s “property of Sir L. Alexander-Fairburn Johnson. For the evidence clerk first thing tommorow.” she looked at him sharply,
“Evidence? Is Johnson...dead?”
Morgan perched himself on the edge of the dusty desk. “Doll it’s what happens when you get a puncture. Poor sod took a slug between the third and forth rib.”
“Who shot him Ben?” Louise asked as she tossed the letters onto the desk and stood up. “Well the noise in the bull pen, is that I did. Or it will be by the time Costner gets back. After alll it was my gun, that well did the deed. But I'd take a poly to the fact it wasn’t me, if I was to take a punt I’d say whoever punctured Johnson, more than likely was the goon who played butcher on that Danver’s dame.” That’s when Peggy’s partner saw the bandage on the back of his head.
“My God Ben. You were in it, you're hurt!”
“Tell me about it” he said managing a lop-sided smirk “that was no love tap. Somebody dropped the hammer on me good. I hadn’t hurt that much before you slapped me Christmas eve of 35.”
“Well you did sleep with my sister, Ben” she joked back.
“Good point.”
She reached up, lifted his hat gently stoking his stubbly chin with the back of her hand. The pair had enjoyed more than a tryst, but life pushed them apart, yet both would be surprised to know that neither s feelings had changed. “That was too close Ben!”
“They were going to drill me no question, well at first. Changed their minds I guess when they fished through my pockets and saw the badge. Bastards did rob me a twenty though, and didn’t even have a the testicular fortitude to say thanks. Crooks these days?”
“They? Were there two of them?”
The detective nodded “One KO'd me, while I was trying to get a bead on his friend. I went bye-bye before I got a glimpse at their ugly mugs. Both bolted though and now they know we’re on the heels. I guess from now on, the hunts really on. They’ll play us no doubt to try and get away. But we’ll play to and win. Before they pull a vanishing act too. We’ll need to put a fire under this investigation, if we’re going to have a hope in hell in catching them. Frankly that’s what bought me hear, to be honest. Too see if there might be another pair of boobs, headed up for slaughter.”
“Ben, you might have asked me. I know Peggy’s off looking for the Lieutenant but I’m still her partner but that’s besides the point I used to be your go to girl on and off the job. Just because I’ve spent the last two years putting fortune tellers out of business and running around with Peg, doing the circuit of disorderly dance hall’s. Don’t mean this here cutie, has forgotten how to use her mind.” She held up a pink carbon sheet of paper. The under sheet of a notebook. “I dug this out of Johnson’s private postbox, over there. Just don’t ask how though, or you may need to book me. It has all the earmarks mind. Same P.O. box number, everything. It seems a Miss Maggie Handley, a seamstress out of backwater Horizon Falls, can support herself, has money and seems to have the personality to match. The right amount of pep and naivety that our loon seems to like. Plus she’s already paid her fee to secure the address of a certain chap that you know by the name of Henderson, whose been giving her the charm offensive.”
“Well he lives here in Liberty I think. Got any other leads doll?”
“That’s the funny thing, can’t find a shred of paper’s on him. Ben!”
Ben chewed on his pipe-stem. Was Henderson another one of Bell’s aliases? Had Johnstone been putting one over on him, when he claimed to know nothing about other letters from the mysterious Mr Bell. “When did this dame, cough up Johnson’s fee?”
“A week ago, today.”
The detective reached for the crummy office’s phone, and sailed. “Hey this is detective Ben Morgan badge number 7984, hustle up and patch me through to Captain Costner. Oh he’s away… Viper… okay whatever, yes I’ll hold.” Ben chewed a little harder on his pipe stem. “Hello, yes Commissioner. Thank you Commissioner. Yes I’m fine just a bump. The reason I’m calling, well I’m talking from West Bleaker 3,217.” While he let the Commissioner talk he tossed the keys to Peggy’s partner. Who tried the only flat key on the bunch in the locked middle drawer of the beaten up desk. It fitted. In the dusty drawer was an empty cigar box that looked Cuban, some paper matchbook's from a few nearby night-time hot spots, an overdue bill from a newsletter supplier along with what looked like similar form other nearby stores and businesses. She took a half full hip-flask of Nip-and-tuck Rye, tossing it Ben who quickly pocketed it. Before she closed the drawer she noticed stuffed in the middle of an issue of Black Mask Magazine, a torn, much folded plain-paper envelope addressed to Contentment Agency Box LL27! The envelope was postmarked three weeks ago, from station U. Liberty City. Louise looked up from the paper “West nine hundred and seventy first street, Ben. That’s where the thigh bone was found wasn't it? I bet that’s where we’ll find our new friend and I one will get you ten and we’ll find all his other sick little play pals, too.”
Ben Morgan, still with phone to his ear, was about to hang up, even if it was the Commissioner who asked him to hold, when a voice entered the receiver, so Ben muttered “Defiantly”, a few times mixed with some “Yes, Sir’s” finally adding a “much obliged Commissioner” before he was able to put the phone down. Parish angrily punched at the flies that now seemed to be orbiting,
“For Liberty City?” Ben wondered aloud.
“Can’t say hun, it’s Southbound so it’s possible.�
� It was then that Ben noticed the hurt look had taken hold of Louise again. All he could do was shove his hands in his pockets, gloomily.
“All we know is she’s got her suitcase packed and was waiting. The Commissioner took it on himself to contact the station agent who said, she was wearing a powder blue gardenia corsage.”
Louise’s teeth clenched and began to grind a little. “Those damn flowers again, don’t know if you got my memo Ben, about each victim being found to be wearing a corsage when their dismembered torso’s were found. They’ll probably last just long enough to be used on her casket.”
Chapter Thirteen
A coolness settled upon Peggy Ellen, as she faced one of the most crucial situations of a lifetime of adventure. Her lovely pert bosom rose and fell with her accelerated breathing, beneath her short black cape. Which she now drew around her slender frame, her dazzling eyes were fixed in an unwavering stare upon the ominous doorway. Her sleek gloved fingers trembled ever so slightly, as they pulled on the Queen’s Bites safety catch. Making sure her blood hungry friend was prepared if she needed to shoot it out with these crooks. No matter what the outcome she would protect her charge and lover. But the drink induced intruder was spared a quick end. Henley was the man in charge, at least that’s what she could gain from her vantage.
But despite her bad vantage and inability to see his face she could tell he hated to be disobeyed. As the man she came to know as Martin came through the doorway. A heavy hand came down and clamped hard onto his shoulder, jerking him back with surprising force right into the other room. The push sent the big man spinning across the floor.
“Damn, you Martin!” snarled the presumed leader harshly, stepping out into the light for the first time. Peggy was stunned, the man was not only known to her, but the entire city as well. As he Henley was the deputy Mayor of the city.
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