The Adventures of Lazarus Gray (14 page)

"Perhaps." Gray favored
Lorraine with the briefest of smiles but the expression didn’t
reach his eyes, which remained cold and determined. "I will need
you to authorize something for me, Mrs. Mitchell. I’m going to need
to see your husband’s body and confirm that there was no foul play
involved."

Lorraine’s lips became a
hard, thin line. "My husband’s buried in the ground."

"Yes. But if you give
permission, I can pull a few strings and have him exhumed
immediately."

With a shaky voice,
Lorraine whispered, "Whatever you think is needed, Mr.
Gray."

"Good. I’ll help you with
the appropriate paperwork. Morgan, please escort Mrs. Mitchell back
to her home. Examine this mummy while you’re waiting for us. Make
sure that it’s what it looks like and that no one is playing a
cruel trick on our client." Gray nodded crisply, energized by the
mystery before him. "Let’s get to work. We only have about twelve
hours before the corpse screams again."

Chapter II

Questions With Deadly
Answers

Eun Jiwon stepped into the
bank, well aware of the stares he received. He was smartly dressed
in a black suit and tie but his Korean features made him stand out.
He had come here a few times when his parents were alive and he
remembered the shame he’d felt when his father had begged for an
extension on his loan. The flames of anger never truly died, he
realized. They just dimmed to flickering embers, ready to reignite
at the proper moment.

"Can I help you?" asked one
of the bank’s employees. He was an older man with silver hair and
thick glasses. He regarded Eun with curiosity but not outright
distrust like so many others did. A small nametag placed over his
heart indicated that his name was John Mitchell.

"I work with Assistance
Unlimited." Eun held out a small business card with the group’s
address and logo printed on it. The logo showed an open hand, palm
up, with the words Assistance Unlimited printed across it. Beneath
these were the address 6196 Robeson Avenue and a telephone number.
"We’re currently investigating a matter concerning Lorraine
Mitchell and I’d like to have access to her husband’s safety
deposit box."

John Mitchell’s face fell
and his eyes became guarded. "That would be my son you’re talking
about. What kind of case are you working on regarding my
daughter-in-law?"

"That’s private, I’m
afraid."

"So is my son’s safety
deposit box."

"So there is one? Mrs.
Mitchell indicated that she didn’t think there was, since you
hadn’t given her access to it upon your son’s death." Eun held his
ground, even as John Mitchell’s demeanor became darker.

John glanced around at the
other customers and employees, many of whom were watching them. He
lowered his voice and took Eun by the elbow, steering him toward
the vault. "My son kept a box. All of us do. Sometimes we keep
things of personal or business importance in them. A lot of times,
it’s not things we’d like for our wives to see."

"Is that the kinds of
things in his box?"

"I don’t know. I have no
clue what’s in there. But when he died, I couldn’t bring myself to
look inside. It’s still too soon. My son was a disappointment to me
in many ways but I loved him. When Lorraine didn’t ask about the
box, I assumed he hadn’t told her about it. And if he hadn’t told
her about it, then there was some reason as to why."

Eun nodded. "I understand.
I promise to use discretion. Unless it’s pertinent to our case, I
won’t share the details of anything I see with Mrs.
Mitchell."

"I would appreciate that.
Keep in mind that the only reason I’m doing this at all is because
of who your employer is. That man’s done a lot of good in this town
and Lord knows we need more people like him." John gestured for a
guard to open up the room containing the safety deposit boxes and
he led Eun inside, closing the door behind them. He walked straight
toward one of the boxes and placed it on the room’s single table.
After fishing out a master key from an inside pocket on his jacket,
he opened the box and pushed it toward Eun. "I do hope my
daughter-in-law isn’t in any kind of danger."

"That’s what we’re trying
to find out," Eun admitted. He peered inside the box, finding
several envelopes of varying sizes. He peered into several of them,
finding handwritten notes and erotic French postcards. From the
feminine scent on several of the notes, Eun guessed that Mr.
Mitchell had at least one woman on the side, perhaps more. He also
found nearly three thousand dollars in cash and a small handgun.
All in all, it was rather typical stuff for a man who was living a
double life.

But it was the contents of
a small manila envelope stuffed at the bottom of the box that
caused Eun to pause. There was a necklace of some kind inside, one
with a gold chain and a small seven-pointed star pendant. The
pendant was lined with tiny diamonds, causing it to glitter
brightly in the light. It was very old and Eun knew that it was
probably priceless. On the back of the pendant were a series of
minuscule hieroglyphics.

John Mitchell stood a few
feet away, obviously unwilling to look into the box himself.
Perhaps, Eun mused, he was afraid to find out what his son might
have been involved in. "Did you find anything?"

Eun held up the necklace.
"Have you ever seen this before?"

"No, I haven’t." John moved
forward, staring at the pendant. "I know he recently purchased a
mummy. I wonder if that came with it?"

Eun dropped the necklace
into a pocket and pushed the box back toward Mr. Mitchell. "I’ll
take it with me so Lazarus can look at it. If it turns out that
it’s not related, I’ll see that it’s returned here."

"Can’t you tell me what’s
going on?"

Hesitating, Eun considered
opening up to the man. It was obvious that despite whatever
problems he might have had with his son, he did love him and that
extended to his widow as well. Lazarus hadn’t specifically told him
to hold his cards close to the vest but Eun knew what his employer
would do in this situation and he elected to follow suit. "I’m
sorry. Rest assured that we’re doing all that we can."

Eun spun about and exited
the room, aware of the necklace’s weight in his pocket. It was far
heavier than he would have expected. Somehow, this was tied into
the mystery of the mummy and he was willing to bet that Lazarus
would be able to figure out how.

***

Samantha tried to not feel
slighted as she waited for the transatlantic call to go through.
Every member of the Assistance Unlimited squad was given equal
preference when it came to the jobs they performed and this
sometimes meant getting stuck with nothing more exciting than
talking to someone on the phone. Samantha knew it was an important
task but she still ached to be out in the field, where the danger
truly lay. It wasn’t that she was addicted to the excitement, but
she certainly enjoyed the rush that came with surviving a near
fatal encounter.

Of all four of them, she
was the only one with family still living. Eun’s parents had been
murdered, Morgan’s were long gone and Lazarus… well, poor Lazarus
wouldn’t have known if he had a wife and kids somewhere. His memory
of his life before waking up in Sovereign City was a jumble of
confusing images and sounds. It sounded awful to Samantha and she
often wondered how lonely he must be.

She sighed, trying to talk
herself away from this line of thinking. Lazarus wasn’t the most
romantic of men but there was something about him that enticed her.
She hoped it wasn’t simply the pity factor but she couldn’t
discount that. She did feel the urge to mend his broken
heart.

And then there was Morgan.
She felt badly for having slapped him but couldn’t bring herself to
apologize.

She was so lost in thought
that it took her a few seconds to realize there was a man on the
line now, repeatedly saying hello in a distinctly British voice: "I
say, is there anyone there?"

"Is this James
Garmont?"

"Yes, it is! And to whom am
I speaking, young lady?"

"Samantha Grace of
Sovereign City."

"Ah! The little girl of
Sheridan and Amanda? I met your parents years ago at a charity get
together. Never forgot them. Such a charming, good-humored set of
people! What can I do for you, love?"

Samantha paused. Garmont
knew her parents? Did Lazarus know that? If so, it explained why he
wanted her to handle this call. Sometimes the things he knew
bordered on the supernatural. "They speak highly of you as well,"
she lied. "I’m calling to ask you about Mr. Mitchell. He visited
you not long ago and purchased a mummy, didn’t he?"

"I believe he did, yes."
Samantha fought the urge to stare at the phone. All the good nature
had faded abruptly from Garmont’s voice. He sounded quite brusque,
in fact. "Terrible pity about his death. I heard about it from
mutual friends. Give my best to his wife, will you?"

"Please," Samantha said,
sensing that he was close to hanging up the phone. "His wife is at
her wit’s end. She says the mummy is talking to her and moving
about. Every third night, it screams at midnight. I know how it
must sound but I’m trying to help her. Did anything unusual ever
happen with the mummy while you owned it?"

Garmont sighed and it was
such a weary sound that Samantha felt a surge of sympathy for him.
She could hear him sit down heavily. "That thing has been nothing
but a terror. I tried to talk him out of taking it but he wouldn’t
listen. He was obsessed with her, just like I was." Samantha said
nothing, sensing that he would continue in his own time. "I
collected the things, mummies I mean. I bought a few and enjoyed
showing them off to blokes from the pub. It was good for a laugh
now and again. But then a gypsy came knocking on my door one day… I
nearly had the help drive her away, she stank so fiercely and you
can’t trust them, you know? They’ll steal you blind if you let
them. But she told me she had heard I liked mummies. She said she
had one and she was special. So I walked out to her wagon and took
a look. Even all dried up and swathed in bandages, she was
beautiful. I could feel it in my loins." Garmont’s voice trailed
away. "I’m sorry, Miss. That’s not proper, is it?"

"It’s okay. Please go
on."

"Well I bought her, of
course. And the gypsy told me that she was a princess named Femi.
She also told me that what made Femi so special was that she wasn’t
truly dead. She slept in some sort of awful twilight haze. As long
as you kept the seven-starred pendant in the same house, she
wouldn’t wake up. Move it far enough away, though, and she’d start
to revive. It would be slight, at first, but every three days she’d
get a little stronger, until at last she was warm and gorgeous
again."

"There’s a necklace, you
say?"

"Yes. I gave it to
Mitchell, though I suspect he did the same thing I did. He
eventually wanted to see what would happen if she woke up. I had
her for nearly three months before I gave in to temptation. There
was something about her corpse that made me weak." Garmont’s voice
became strained and even over the distant phone connection, she
knew he was crying. "I buried the pendant out in the garden and
then waited. Every three days, she got a little stronger… until
finally she came to me and her hips were alabaster white and her
breasts were full and ripe. She had raven black hair and almond
eyes. She tore at her cloth coverings until all of her sex was
exposed and she took me right there on the floor. It was… it was
like nothing I’d ever experienced. She was in control the entire
time and she took me… like she was claiming me." Garmont grew
silent and Samantha almost thought she’d lost the connection when
he continued. "When I woke up, I found her in the kitchen. She’d
killed the butler and eaten his heart. I ran screaming but they
were all dead: the maid, her daughter, even the dogs. All ripped
apart by my princess. She came to me again and the Lord knows I’m
not sure if she planned to kill me to… or take me back to her
bed."

"What did you
do?"

"I ran to the garden and
dug up the necklace with my bare hands. Once I had it, she returned
to her sleep. Her skin went dry and the blood dried up inside her,
turning to dust. Any time I felt tempted by her, I’d remember what
she did."

"When she was waking up
from her sleep… did she scream anything at you?"

"Oh, good heavens, yes. God
is dead. Every night. The gypsy told me that the gods of ancient
Egypt had punished her. She’d been part of a cult that believed the
gods were all dead and gone, that their hold on the people should
no longer be enforced. The gods punished her by transforming her
into what she is now and the knowledge of that keeps her angry. She
shouts her fury at them every chance she gets."

Samantha realized that she
should have been writing all of this down. No worries, she thought,
there’s no way I’m forgetting any of this. "How and why did Mr.
Mitchell end up with her?"

"I’d put her and the other
mummies in the attic. I’d like to say I’d forgotten all about her
but that would be a lie. She haunted me. Even now, I can still feel
her lips against mine and the heat of her breath on my neck. When
Mitchell came to visit, it was around the time that I was gathering
things up for the church rummage sale. I asked him to help me bring
down an old box of clothes from the attic and while we were up
there, he saw the pile of mummies. I could tell how interested he
was and I have to admit that I shared the story quite freely. I
didn’t hide the danger from him, though. I knew it wouldn’t matter
if I did. He was smitten, just like I had been. And I wanted her
out of my house. So when he asked if he could buy her, I was more
than happy to take his money. I shouldn’t have done it, I know
that. I knew the risks for my friend but I was a bloody
coward!"