The Adventures of Lazarus Gray (35 page)

"She was at a party I
attended. Apparently, she works in the newspaper secretarial pool.
She was alone at the soiree and so was I. We struck up a
conversation and I invited her to have dinner with me. She agreed
to do and a couple of nights later, we went out and ate at
O’Malley’s. Afterward, we came back here."

"And then?"

Max glanced quickly at
Samantha, who was the very picture of decorum. "Miss Schuller
remained here for several hours and left my residence just past
midnight."

"Did the two of you have
sexual relations?" Lazarus asked.

"No. Not if you mean
intercourse, anyway."

Samantha felt a flush rise
to her cheeks and she smoothed out her skirt once more.

"And everything that
happened here was consensual?" Lazarus didn’t seem shocked by Max’s
intimations and Samantha remembered that in his old life, the one
he’d had before arriving in Sovereign City, Lazarus had lived in
Europe and traveled a great deal. He’d been exposed to things that
weren’t openly discussed in polite company.

As Max answered in the
affirmative, Samantha found herself studying her employer. Not
quite two years ago, Lazarus Gray had literally washed up on the
shores of the city with no memory of who he really was. In his
possession had been a small medallion depicting a nude male figure
with the head of a lion. The words ‘Lazarus Gray’ had been printed
below the image and he’d taken the name as his own. It wasn’t until
after founding Assistance Unlimited, a group dedicated to helping
those in need, regardless of their ability to pay, that Lazarus had
learned the truth: that once he’d been Richard Winthrop, a member
of a ruthless International organization known as The Illuminati.
He’d turned against them and had nearly lost his life in the
process. Now, he fought against his old allies, standing up to the
forces of darkness with only his three aides at his side: Samantha,
the young Korean Eun Jiwon, and former confidence man Morgan
Watts.

Max set down his glass and
leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. "I assure
you, Mr. Gray, that I’m not the kind of man who would have done
those things to a woman. To anyone, really." Something passed over
the man’s face that caught Samantha’s attention – it was like a
veil had fallen over his eyes. "I saw my father gunned down by
criminals when I was eight years old. He was a good man and he
taught me to stand up for those in need. I’ve tried to do that all
my life. The kind of killer who did this… that’s the kind of man
who should be brought to justice."

Lazarus said nothing in
response for a long moment, though it was obvious that his mind was
running through everything that Max had just said. "I believe you,
Mr. Davies. But it doesn’t change the fact that a young woman is
dead and that someone, for whatever reason, wanted your name thrown
into the mix. Do you have any idea how your address book came to be
with her body?"

"No. Someone obviously
broke into my hotel room at some point but I never saw any sign of
it and when I asked the clerk downstairs, he assured me that no one
other than the cleaning staff had been here in my
absence."

Samantha spoke up, voicing
a thought that had come to her repeatedly since they’d left the
morgue. "Maybe they just wanted to waste everyone’s time, forcing
the police down fruitless paths, while the real killer escapes
town."

"That’s possible," said
Max, standing up and quickly crossing to a small briefcase that lay
on a nearby table. He opened it as he continued to talk. "But
unlikely. The killer’s still here in Sovereign."

Gray watched as Max
returned with several newspaper clippings in his grasp. Gray took
them and his eyes quickly scanned the words, drinking in their
meaning. "This wasn’t the first murder," Gray murmured.

Max nodded, noting the look
of surprise on Samantha’s face. "Three years ago, a prostitute was
found with her hands and feet removed. The body had been bled dry
and washed. Six months later, a fourteen year old runaway girl was
found, beheaded and with one leg missing. Again – surgical cuts,
the body was dry and had been washed. Last fall, a third one was
found: a Chinese immigrant who made a living washing clothes for
others. Her breasts had been surgically removed but the other
aspects matched perfectly: the body had not a drop of blood left in
it and the murder occurred elsewhere with the body having been
cleaned afterward."

Samantha shook her head in
amazement. "That doesn’t make sense. Why didn’t Cord mention
that?"

"Because he doesn’t know,"
Lazarus answered. "Miss Schuller is the first victim who would be
considered of any importance. Prostitutes and immigrants aren’t
high priorities. There aren’t many family members to press for an
investigation. They’re simply forgotten."

Max nodded. "That’s right.
It’s actually the real reason why I’m here. I sometimes comb
through old crime reports, looking for story ideas that I can feed
to the editors of the papers I still have a stake in. I came here
to talk to Mr. Groseclose about these murders and to see if the
Gazette could look into them."

Lazarus took a deep breath
before speaking. "May I take these clippings with me?"

"Feel free."

Lazarus collected them and
nodded to Samantha. She understood the gesture and stood up. They
were leaving, as Lazarus had evidently gotten everything he thought
he needed from Max Davies.

Lazarus placed a hand on
Max’s shoulder. "I’m sorry to say that you’ll still be expected to
visit the police station and file a formal statement. I think you
should heed my advice: don’t mention these clippings or the other
murders. To a man like Cord, your knowledge of such things might
only increase the likelihood of your involvement."

"You believe me,
though?"

"Yes. I do. You’re much
more than you appear to be, I’m sure of that… but you’re not the
man we’re looking for."

Samantha wondered at those
words, but said nothing until they were outside in the car. "I’m
not sure I believe all that," she said at last.

Lazarus started the car and
began smoothly gliding it down the perpetually rain-slicked streets
of the city. "You mean that he came here in response to the
murders?"

"Well, yes. I mean, it
seems terribly convenient, doesn’t it? He comes here because he
knows women are being murdered. They’re all vagabonds or street
people so nobody cares about them. Then he meets a girl who doesn’t
fit that pattern – but sure enough, the killer takes an interest in
her anyway."

Lazarus glanced toward her
and that faint hint of a smile that he sometimes got reasserted
itself before vanishing, like a thin wisp of smoke. "I’d wager that
we only saw the real Max Davies at the end of that conversation.
The moment he shared with us the details about those other murders,
his demeanor changed. Before that, the bored playboy routine, the
overly flirtatious act – it was just that. An act."

"So you think he might be
the killer?"

"Oh, no. I don’t think that
at all. I think he’s someone with genuine concern about these women
but for some reason, he doesn’t want the world to know it. I’ll
look into his background when I get the chance but for now, I don’t
think we should waste our time focusing on him."

"What about the other men
whose names were found with her body?"

"As we were leaving the
station, I stopped to call the Assistance Unlimited HQ. Eun and
Morgan have been looking into the other men who have been
implicated in this."

Samantha nodded, looking
out the passenger side window. She saw one gray-colored building
after another. It looked like the entire city was slowly falling
under a haze of decay. "That poor girl. No one should die like
that. And to think that more women have died over the years, with
no one missing them… It makes me wonder if we can ever really save
this place. My grandparents used to tell me that Sovereign wasn’t
always like this but nowadays it’s hard to believe that. There’s
something rotten at the core of the city, Lazarus. It’s breeding
murder, corruption and despair."

Samantha felt her
employer’s hand settle on hers. He gave it a firm squeeze and when
he spoke, there was unusual emotion in his words. "You’re right.
The heart of Sovereign is spoiled. That’s why we’ve got to find the
source of the evil and carve it out."

Chapter II

Men of Power

The death of Claudia
Schuller was front-page news on every paper in the city. The
Gazette ran two photos, one depicting Claudia on the day of her
high school graduation and the other a grainy crime scene image
with a body draped by a police blanket. The grisly details were
listed in explicit detail, bringing fresh pain to the victim’s
family and friends.

Speculation was rife.
Though the names of the men implicated were not revealed in the
papers, rumors linked virtually every prominent businessman in the
city with the young woman. Stories circulated that she had been of
loose morals and had traded her beauty for monetary gifts from the
men.

"Read about de slain
beauty! Police officials baffled as investigation continues! All de
details included here! Will the killer strike again?"

A newsboy’s cry caught the
attention of two men who were riding down Main Street in a taxi.
One of the men – an elderly, gray-haired gentleman in a tweed suit
– turned to his young companion and asked, "What’s this about a
murder, Smithson? I didn’t hear anything about such a thing when we
were coming in on the train yesterday."

"Young Miss Claudia
Schuller was brutally murdered a few days ago," Smithson answered.
He was a handsome man with dark hair and eyes. "The papers are
abuzz with the news. It was quite awful, from what I’ve
heard."

"I haven’t read any of
today’s papers," remarked the elderly man. "Such a violent city,"
he added with a shake of his head.

Smithson waited for the
question that he knew was inevitably going to come.

"Schuller, you say? Didn’t
we meet her at the party thrown by Groseclose? Attractive young
thing from his secretarial pool?"

Smithson nodded, his face
drawn grave with concern. "We did, Mr. Melvin. She was quite
generous in her praise of your revitalization efforts in the city’s
East Side."

Donald Melvin bit his lower
lip, his eyes taking on a faraway state. "Awful. To be cut down in
the prime of life like that. She could have made some man very
happy, you know."

Smithson said nothing,
hoping that this turn of conversation wouldn’t ruin his employer’s
mood. The meeting they were going to was an important one and
Melvin sometimes lapsed into gloomy periods that impacted his
decisions. Amalgamated Industries was Melvin’s pride and joy and it
was currently involved in the removal of dozens of unsightly
tenement buildings, replacing them with tremendous structures that
towered over the landscape. In decades to come, people would point
to Melvin’s work as a key part in the revitalization of Sovereign
City.

***

Smithson and Melvin stepped
from their cab and entered the lobby of The Amici Hotel, a massive
building that occupied an entire block. One of the few new hotels
to have opened since the Stock Market Crash of ’29, The Amici
prided itself on an aristocratic atmosphere.

Within the gorgeous lobby,
Smithson made an inquiry at the front desk and then informed Melvin
that their meeting was being held on the twenty-fourth
floor.

After traveling upward in
an elevator, the two men stepped into a conference room where a
small group was waiting for them. One by one, Smithson introduced
Melvin to the men, even though in most cases, introductions were
not truly necessary. It was a formality and one that the older men
seemed to enjoy, as if it confirmed their importance in
things.

Theodore Groseclose,
publisher and chief editor of the Sovereign Gazette, was the first
to shake Melvin’s hand. Groseclose was a tall, gray-haired man in a
dark suit. He looked a bit unnerved and Melvin rightly assumed it
was because of the death of the man’s secretary.

Also present was Robert
Phillips, Chairman of the city’s Building Association. He was a
bear-like man with a thick, bristled beard and piercing
eyes.

The final man to whom
Melvin was introduced was Merle Hansome, a wiry fellow with
thinning hair and a nervous habit of licking his upper lip. One of
the most prominent attorneys in the city, Hansome was very good at
his job, despite not having the demeanor to put anyone at
ease.

Phillips cleared his throat
as everyone took a seat. He had a commanding presence and was
obviously used to being in charge. "Let’s get this under way, shall
we? You’ve looked over the papers we sent your way?"

Melvin nodded, waiting for
Smithson to take out a pad and paper before continuing. "I have.
Fifty million dollars is quite an investment. If I’m going to do as
you ask, I have to receive certain assurances."

Groseclose leaned forward,
clasping his hands together on top of the table. "You know I’ll do
what I can for you, Mr. Melvin. I’ve kept all the news stories
about what you’re doing in a positive light. It’s going to be a
little bit tougher with this new deal, but I can swing
it."