by Brian Meeks
“It’s okay. He had me fooled, too.”
CHAPTER 81
Henry brought the pitcher to the table and slid in next to Luna. He looked tired. She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze.
Bobby started pouring drinks and asked, “Okay, I’m confused. Now why is it we aren’t hiding from the Enclave? I mean, that’s why I went into hiding with Celine and Carol.”
“And Buttons,” Carol added.
“Yes, and Buttons. When I got word that the contract was dead, I panicked a little, okay, maybe a lot. They aren’t to be messed with.”
Henry almost tried answering, but saw it was going to take a mallet to wedge a word into Bobby’s rapid fire questions, so he just let him ramble on.
“I once knew of a guy who was rumored to have overheard a conversation between two of their members and he was never seen again. I figured I better disappear us before they did. I know you would have wanted me to. I left clues, the keys in the locks. Did you get them?”
Henry held up a weary hand and Bobby took a sip of his beer and leaned in a little, excited for the answer. Henry smiled and said, “Yes, my friend, I did. The broken door at my apartment probably saved our lives.”
Bobby’s eyes got big. Celine gasped, “What?!”
Henry lit a cigarette and exhaled a long plume of fatigue, as he searched for where to begin. “When I saw the broken key in your office door, I thought it was strange, but my gut told me you were leaving me a message. Doing the same at the apartment gave me just enough time. We bolted and got out of there by the skin of our teeth. I owe you one, buddy. What made you come back when you did?”
Bobby leaned in and whispered, “I have an associate who has a place, just down the street from the office. I’ve got a nifty telescope and we were able to watch what was going on, sort of.”
Carol reached over and hugged Bobby’s shoulders. “He was at that thing almost 24 hours a day just keeping an eye on you. We had to bully him to make him eat. Well, Celine did the bullying.”
Celine shrugged. “It’s a gift.”
Henry laughed. “Don’t I know it.”
Mike walked in and joined them.
“You get your reports filled out, ‘t’s’ crossed, ‘i’s’ dotted?” Henry asked.
Mike grabbed the pitcher and poured the last of the beer into his glass. He waved to the bartender for another round and pulled up a chair next to Celine. “Yes, I got it in, but I doubt there was anything in there that will get us closer to catching the major. At least, now we know who it is even if we don’t have any proof.”
Henry looked perturbed. “My word isn’t good enough?”
“It is for me but not for a judge or jury. It doesn’t matter, though, since we don’t know where he’s hiding. Even the penthouse, which looks like he’s had for some time, isn’t in his name.”
Carol excused herself to go to the ladies room. Celine and Luna joined her.
* * *
At the front of the bar, Associate 2 and 3 sat in the corner, watching but unable to hear what was being said.
They nursed their beers, hoping the din of the crowd would die down so they could better hear what Henry and his friends were talking about. As the evening wore on, the crowd grew.
The bartender tried to strike up a conversation with the two men, but neither felt chatty.
2 worried that if they were too anti-social it might make them stand out. He nodded to the bartender and asked, “You have any pretzels?”
“Sure, Mac,” he said. He pulled a small, wooden bowl from under the bar as he asked, “You want another round?”
“It has been a long day. We’re up from DC. Had meetings all day, and, well…it isn’t that interesting, but, yes, please.”
3 fell right into the routine, “Yep, we're usually friendlier. I got my ass chewed pretty bad by the boss. My numbers were down for the last quarter and...I bet you get dumped on all the time being a bartender.”
“My father was a great bartender. He always said, ‘It’s better to listen to other people’s problems than to have ones of your own. It makes them feel better and that ain’t such a bad thing.’”
2 sipped his new beer. He could no longer see Henry and his friends, which was probably okay, since they couldn’t see him, either. If anyone got up to leave, he would know as the front door and hallway to the bathroom were still visible. He smiled after the bartender finished and said, “Thanks for the pretzels.”
The bartender smiled and went off to take another order.
3 said softly, “I hope our friend isn’t planning on staying until close. I’m ready for this to be done.”
2 simply nodded without looking up from his beer. They would just have to wait.
* * *
Henry finished telling the story of his meeting with the director.
Bobby asked, “How are you going to find these two guys?”
Luna looked worried. “I don’t understand why you agreed to help him?”
“He wasn’t really asking when he asked. Bobby, I suspect they will find me.”
Bobby shook his head. “I don’t like it, I don’t like it one bit. How do you know they won’t just shoot you on sight or something worse, you may not ever even see them? These Enclave guys are ruthless. I have a bad feeling, a very bad feeling.”
Bobby’s words were hard on Luna, but Celine and Carol became quiet and somber, too. Henry squeezed Luna’s hand. “Don’t write me off yet. Now it’s late, and who knows what insanity we’re going to have to deal with tomorrow.”
Bobby gave a heavy sign and said, “Okay, but keep your head down. I still think it’s best if Celine and Carol come with me and stay under the radar.”
Celine was about to object, but she saw the frightened look on Carol’s face and said, “Okay, one more night won’t do any harm. Buttons will be fine at the office. He’s got food and water.”
They all got up to leave. After Henry shook Mike’s hand and promised to call him in the morning, Bobby pulled Henry aside and said, “Keep your eyes open. It’s important. Not just now or tomorrow, but …”
Luna interrupted. “I’m tired. Come on, Henry.” She tugged on his arm, and Henry followed.
CHAPTER 82
Henry and Luna walked in silence, her arm linked through his. Usually Henry would hail a cab back to the car, but he asked if Luna wouldn’t mind walking with him for a few blocks, just to clear his head. At the corner where the first victim had died, he stopped, and looked down. There wasn’t a trace, no sign of the terrible loss, just a sidewalk that had been erased by the feet of the city.
Henry rarely smoked, but his nerves were shot. He lit a cigarette and offered one to Luna, who declined. A few draws later and he crushed the cigarette out with the toe of his shoe. She took his hand, and they continued on but his gait was marginally faster. Henry squeezed her hand and said, “I think we should grab this cab.”
“I thought you wanted to walk to clear your head.”
Henry whistled and waved. The cab stopped, and they hopped in.
“Where to buddy?”
“The Flatiron building.”
“Why are we going to the office?” Luna asked.
Henry turned around and saw the two guys who followed them out of the bar grab the next cab.
“Henry, you’re starting to...”
Henry held up a finger to shush her and whispered, “I think we’re being followed. When we get to the office, I’m getting out. You take the cab up past the park and watch to see if the guys behind us get out. If they do, get to a phone and call Mike.”
“Okay, but what if they don’t get out of the cab?”
Henry smiled. “Then I’m losing my grip, and I’ll need you to circle the park and pick me back up. We’ll go get some breakfast.”
“Got it. Mike or breakfast.” She leaned over and gave him a kiss. “Be careful.”
Henry liked how Luna didn’t fall to pieces, though the look of worry in her eyes told him that she was on the e
dge. He said, “I’ve got a plan.” He hoped that by the time he got to the office, he really would.
When they arrived, Henry got out, paid the cabbie, and gave Luna one more peck. He saw the other cab slow. It was about a block away.
The lobby was empty and provided few spots to hide, a fact that gave him an idea. He should hide and come up behind them. He could get the drop on them and find out who they were before they did something unfriendly like kill him. If they were Associates Two and Three, it might be hard, but this would likely be his only chance.
Henry bounded up the stairs as he pulled his lock pick set out of his pocket. His first thought was Bobby’s office, but he remembered how strange Bobby’s lock’s were and decided the janitor’s closet would be a better spot. He didn’t hear any sounds behind him, which made him suspect that either the two guys were pros or he was starting to lose it.
The janitor’s closet door lock would be easy to pick, but Henry tried the knob first. The door wasn’t locked, so he opened it and then he heard it, a faint hiss. He looked down the hallway and saw that a light was on in his office. Buttons clearly was unhappy about it and possibly in danger. Henry was about to abandon his plan when the light went off.
Whomever was in the office would soon be heading down the hall. The closet seemed like a good idea again.
The hallway was dark, but Henry was able to make out a shape at the end of it. He couldn’t see what the figure was doing, but it seemed to be taking great care with closing the door. Maybe it - he - was wiping away his fingerprints, Henry thought.
Henry could hear footsteps on the stairs. They were soft, measured, and climbing slowly. The figure was about a third of the way down the hall when the footsteps passed Henry’s spot in the closet. Both men carried guns at their sides and raised them at the man coming towards them.
“Whoa, fellas,” the figure said, raising his hands.
“Don’t move,” said the taller of the two guys.
Henry heard the click of a hammer being pulled back. He stepped out behind the two men and said, “He’s not the guy you’re looking for, but I think your idea about not moving, was a good one.”
The two men looked at each other. They knew the drill and lowered their guns.
Henry raised his voice to make sure the guy down the hall could hear, and asked, “Did you lock the door after yourself?”
“No.”
Henry said, “I doubt I’m as good a shot as a couple of Enclave associates, but I don’t need to be from this range. Don’t turn around. Set the guns on the floor and then walk slowly towards your new friend down the hall.”
The two men did as they were told.
The man who had just broken into Henry’s office started to plead his case. “I was just leaving a package. I don’t...”
Henry scowled. “...you don’t what? Want to be arrested for aiding a serial killer? I’m thinking I should just shoot you now. I’m sure the major wouldn’t even mind. It would probably save him the trouble of doing it himself.”
“Hey! I don’t know nothing about no serial killer. He just hired me to leave the package on your desk.”
“Shut up. Now turn around and head back to my office.” Henry scooped up the two guns and followed the three men through the door to his office. “I’m going to assume that you are Associates 2 and 3, yes?”
Associate 2 answered, “I’m 2, he’s 3, and how did you know that?!”
“I’ve a message from the director. Either of you have something you could use to tie up our friend the delivery boy with?”
Associate 2 looked at 3, who shrugged and said, “Sure, where do you want him?”
Buttons came out of the back office and hopped up on the desk with an accusatory look aimed at the three strange men. He meowed twice and hopped from the desk to Celine’s chair and then down to the floor.
Henry said, “Buttons says you should tie him to the chair.”
Associate 3 gave a wry smile and did as the cat had instructed.
Henry motioned for 2 and 3 to head into his office. He sat down and said, “Mr. 2 and 3, I’ve been hired to find the two of you.”
2 asked, “You were hired to find us?”
“Yes. It seems that the director hasn’t heard from you in a long while. Probably since the night you failed to kill me.”
3 jumped in. “And what are you supposed to do when you find us?”
“He would like you to know that you no longer need to kill me. More accurately, we’d both like you to know that. Actually, I’m probably most interested in you standing down.”
Buttons wandered in and got on Henry’s lap.
2 said, “How do we know you are telling the truth?”
“If I hadn’t talked to the director, how would I know your names, er, numbers?”
3 said, “So that’s it? You’re not supposed to put a bullet in our backs?”
“Bullets cost extra, and I don’t do that sort of work. Plus, I’ve got bigger problems to worry about than the two of you, believe it or not.”
Two asked, “Who’s this major? And what’s this about a serial killer?”
Henry stared at 2 as he tried to decide his next move. He had delivered the message and his job was done, but maybe he should hold onto them. An idea crept upon him. He answered, “He’s the one who sent the man you had the gun battle with at the Palmeroy place.”
2 and 3 looked at each other and back at Henry. 2 said, “What’s the plan, Mr. Wood?” in a voice that told Henry the idea had crept up on them, too.
CHAPTER 83
The major was tired but not from the late hour. He had rested, knowing that tonight would be the cruelest of nights for Henry. He assumed that the final clue with its two extra tiles as a bonus was now waiting on Henry's desk. He had considered sending two more clues to make Henry earn the extra tiles but was too eager to get to the endgame.
The beauty of the last clue was its simplicity. The major was sure that Henry would figure it out immediately, but, because the deadline was 8:15 am and Henry wouldn't find it until he came into the office, it would be too late. It would tear his foe apart.
The grocery bag contained a sandwich from a deli across town, a bag of donuts, and several candy bars. The major kept his gloves on, removed the sandwich, and took a bite. It wasn't bad. He took some time arranging the wrappers and garbage on the coffee table. There weren’t any prints of importance on any of it, but the thermos had a nearly perfect thumb print on the cup/lid. The coffee inside it was a rare blend but not one he cared for. It would do.
He had checked his sniper rifle twice. It was fine and ready to go. He scanned the park with his scope, the vantage point was perfect, and he knew that there would be plenty of good targets near where he had placed the last wooden tile.
The apartment wasn't under his name or at all traceable. He had bought it almost six years ago and sold it to one fictitious person then another until his tracks were covered.
He estimated that it would take most of the morning for Henry's friends on the force to find the apartment and a few more hours to run the print. It would lead them to a man who had recently taken a swim in the East River. The major had arranged for a moving crew to remove all of the man’s possessions and to leave the place empty except for the phone.
He played it out in his head, how Henry would show up with a team of cops, only to find the phone. It would ring and Henry would answer. He'd be expecting to hear the major's voice. The reality of the sound coming through the phone would haunt Henry for the rest of his life, short as that might be.
* * *
It had taken twenty minutes for Henry to fill 2 and 3 in on the highlights of the major and the killings. When he explained what had happened at the Palmeroy’s place, he could see relief and understanding on their faces.
Henry opened the package on his desk and asked, “Are either of you skilled at persuading people to talk?”
2 said, “It depends on the person.”
3 jumped righ
t in, raising his voice so the guy tied to Celine’s chair could hear clearly, “Some people are weak and die during the warm up ‘persuading.’”
2 added, “Yeah, I remember that time in Tripoli, the guy who we caught stealing from Mr. Chen. We knew he was hired by someone, because he definitely wasn’t a pro, and before we could get him to tell us who, he up and died.”
“It was embarrassing, but we figured out who hired him anyways, so I guess it didn’t matter.”
2 laughed. “Yeah, once we caught up with the guy who had hired the poor bastard, it was too late. Mr. Chen’s guys had already slit his throat.”
“The criminal element moves quickly in Tripoli. Impressive, really.”
Henry had to suppress his laughter. These guys can lay it on thick, he thought.
Inside the package was a box with a tiny, hand-carved creature and a letter. Henry set the carving on the desk and opened the letter.
3 said, “What’s that? Some sort of dragon?”
2 looked at it and said, “I think it’s a cockatrice.”
3 said, “What?”
Henry stopped reading the letter and said, “It’s a dragon with a rooster’s head. It supposedly could turn a person to stone just by looking at it.”
3 said, “Bullshit.”
2 nodded. “He is right. It’s from Elizabethan poetry, but what does it mean?”
A shaky voice from the other room yelled, “I believe it was first used in a Bible from the late 1300’s, if that helps.”
Henry and 2 both yelled, “Shut up.”
3 shook his head. “Okay, so I’m the only one who hasn’t heard of the chicken-dragon. What’s the point?”
Henry returned to the letter and said, “That is strange.”
“What?”
Henry handed the letter to 3 who read it and said triumphantly, “I know where this is!”
