The Adventures of Lazarus Gray (41 page)

"I imagine they’re planning
to put us under protection," Groseclose said. "But I’m not sure
that’s going to be enough. Any man who could have evaded detection
for as many years as this Devil Face has… I’m not sure he’s
human."

Melvin looked at him in
surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Just that there are a lot
of awful things in this world and not all of them can be explained
by men. I haven’t run half the rumors I’ve heard about Assistance
Unlimited and the kinds of jobs they take on: demons,
devil-worshipping cults, women who can kill men just by looking at
them."

"Poppycock!" Phillips
bellowed, though Max thought he saw a shadow of doubt pass over the
big man’s face. "Sounds to me like you’ve been paying too much
attention to Gray’s own rumor mongering. It’s all an attempt to
stir up an air of mystery around the man so he can charge more for
his services!"

Max stood up and adjusted
the sleeves of his coat. "Do we have any sort of plan here? Or is
this meeting simply to share our concerns?"

Melvin struggled to his
feet. "I’m leaving town. I only came to finalize our plans for the
project and I daresay that they’re on hold for now. I need to
return home and inform Smithson’s family about what’s happened. I’m
sure they’ve heard the news, but I want to tell them what the
papers may not have."

"You can’t leave town,"
Groseclose said sadly. "The police want us all to stay in
Sovereign. We’re persons of interest in the
investigation."

Phillips stormed over to
the table that sat in front of Groseclose’s chair. He plucked up
the morning newspaper and stared at the front page. It showed an
old photograph of Lazarus Gray and his aides, under the headline
ASSISTANCE UNLIMITED HUNTS ‘DEVIL FACE’ KILLER!

"Glory hounds," Phillips
whispered, his eyes lingering on the pretty face of Samantha Grace.
His lips moved a few more times, as if he were continuing to mouth
words, but none of the other men could hear what he said. He
abruptly threw the paper back on the table and stepped back, his
eyes wide. "I hope for the best for you gentlemen. I don’t plan to
wait for either you or the police to come up with a scheme to
protect me, however. I’ll handle that quite well on my
own!"

Max put a hand on the big
man’s arm, preventing him from walking toward the door. "Don’t go
off half-cocked, Phillips. The last thing any of us need to do is
go out and get ourselves into trouble."

Phillips glared at Max,
pulling his arm free as he did so. "You will be well advised to
never touch me again," he said in a menacing tone.

"I’m just trying to help,"
Max answered, refusing to wilt before the bigger man’s gaze. As
they stared each other down, Max felt a tremor of recognition pass
through him. He’d been face-to-face with Phillips before and never
realized it. He’d be willing to bet his last dollar that it had
been Phillips behind the Devil Face mask when they’d squared off in
Hansome’s bedroom. At the same moment that Max realized whom his
enemy truly was, Phillips narrowed his own eyes, having come to the
same realization.

"I don’t need your help,"
Phillips hissed. "Just stay out of my way."

Max stared at the man’s
back as he exited the room. A moment later and they all heard the
loud slam of the front door.

"Just let him be,"
Groseclose said wearily. "He’s always been an aggressive sort and I
imagine all this just makes him feel helpless. Lord knows that’s
how I feel."

Max looked over at Melvin,
who was still standing in place. "Do you still want to
leave?"

Melvin shrugged, looking
pained with every breath. "I’d love to but I don’t think it’s very
wise, do you? I can’t leave the city and I don’t want to stay at
the hotel. Smithson was killed there so I wouldn’t feel safe." He
chewed his bottom lip for a moment before saying, "Smithson didn’t
like Phillips. Said he was dangerous. He warned me not to be alone
with him. But he said something very strange to me just a few hours
before he died. I thought about mentioning it to that fellow from
Assistance Unlimited but then thought better of it. It sounds so
foolish."

"What was it?" Max did his
best to avoid looking overeager.

"Smithson said that
Phillips was the same kind of man as Jack the Ripper: that he
looked at other people, particularly at women, as slabs of meat.
Mr. Watts of Assistance Unlimited compared the killer to Jack the
Ripper, too. It reminded me of what Smithson had said." Melvin
looked at Max and shook his head with a sad smile. "But Phillips is
a respected businessman, just like I am. We don’t do such things.
Do we?"

***

Michael Groseclose checked
his appearance for the tenth time, ensuring that his top hat was
perched just so atop his head and that his gloves were tugged on to
a tight fit over his hands. He tried to ignore the feeling that he
was a kid playing dress up as he strode toward the front door of
Assistance Unlimited. He’d never worn the mask during the daytime
hours before and it all felt a little silly in the light of
day.

Before he’d reached the
door, Eun Jiwon and Morgan Watts were waiting to greet him. Eun
stood with fists clenched at his sides and Morgan’s hand drifted
close to the interior of his coat, where a gun obviously lay in
wait.

The Dark Gentleman raised
both hands and came to a halt. "Like I said last night, I’m on your
side."

Eun raised his chin. "Then
tell us why you’re wearing that mask, Mr. Groseclose."

The Dark Gentleman flinched
as if struck. His hands lowered immediately and he didn’t even
bother trying to hide his dismay. "You know who I am?"

"We have cameras mounted
all over this entire block," Eun explained, triumph in his voice.
"While you parked down the street and started changing into your
getup, I was looking to see who those licensed plates belonged to.
If you’re getting into the vigilante game, you need to learn the
ropes."

"Damn." The Dark Gentleman
shook his head, unsure how to continue past this point. He was
saved the trouble when Morgan relaxed his stance and pulled the
door open.

"Come on in, kid. Let’s
hear your story."

***

Samantha Grace had been
charged with the task of watching the exterior of the Groseclose
home during Max’s meeting with the others. She had sat in a dark
sedan across the street, listening in as the others back at
Assistance Unlimited were doing. When Phillips had stormed out,
she’d been forced to make a decision: should she wait where she was
or should she follow the bearlike man who obviously had a temper?
In the end, her female intuition told her to stick with Phillips,
so she followed him at a distance as he drove back to his house.
She drove past as she pulled into his driveway, circling back
around the block and finally parking a few hundred feet from the
front door. To her surprise, she saw that the entrance was standing
wide open and that one of the potted plants just outside the steps
had been overturned.

Never one to shy away from
danger, Samantha was out of the car in a flash. Given the fact that
both Smithson and Hansome were dead, it stood to reason that
Phillips might be another target.

The petite blond hurried
across the street, a small handgun clutched in her right hand. Her
heels clicked on the asphalt and she was glad that she’d worn
slacks today. She enjoyed the feeling of femininity that came with
skirts and dresses, but they were difficult to fight in.

Samantha crept up the
stairs toward the open door. "Mr. Phillips? Are you in there? I’m
with Assistance Unlimited."

Stepping inside, Samantha
noticed no signs of a struggle. She was about to raise her voice
and identify herself again when she heard the creak of the door
behind her. She whirled around to see Devil Face lunging for her,
blade in hand. That it was Phillips was undeniable – the build and
the fact that he still wore the same clothing made that quite
clear. But the mask, with its distorted demon’s features, was
disconcerting.

Samantha pulled the trigger
but her shot went wild, passing harmlessly over Devil Face’s
shoulder. Well versed in jujitsu, Samantha was able to quickly
evade a swipe of the blade, but her position in the foyer didn’t
allow her much room to work with and Devil Face was so large that
she was immediately pressed up against the wall.

"I’m going to help you,"
the killer said, speaking in a voice that was much higher-pitched
than the one she had heard Phillips use earlier. "Don’t be
afraid."

If the situation hadn’t
been so terrifying, Samantha would have laughed. Was he really
telling her not to be afraid, even as he was stabbing wildly at her
with a sharpened blade? Men were always confusing to her but
killers were the worst: the natural inclinations men had toward
being dense were amplified by madness.

Samantha jammed her knee
into the big man’s crotch and she was rewarded with a squeal of
pain from him. She drew up her pistol, pressing the barrel directly
against the forehead of the mask but before she could fire, a
white-hot pain sliced through her midsection. She felt rapidly
spreading warmth spiral out from her stomach and she didn’t have to
look down to realize that the killer’s knife was deep inside
her.

If I die, I’m taking you
with me,
she thought, pulling hard on the trigger. Devil Face’s
head jerked back as the bullet struck his mask and he staggered
back in shock. Samantha reached down and gripped the hilt of the
knife, growing dizzy as she began to extract the blade from her
stomach. She tossed the weapon down and blinked away the stars that
were obscuring her vision. As she sagged to her knees, she realized
that Devil Face had recovered and was standing over her. His mask
had protected him from the full impact but it had split in two and
the pieces now lay on the floor. Phillips was staring at her, a
tiny dot of blood between his eyes. His hands continually opened
and closed and he was breathing heavily, as if he were teetering on
the verge of anger or tears.

"You bitch," he hissed.
"You broke my face."

Samantha struggled to lift
her gun again, but her strength was fading nearly as quickly as the
blood was gushing from her midsection. She heard the sound of Devil
Face’s fist rushing through the air toward her head but she never
saw it. The blow slammed her skull against the wall and rushed her
into blessed darkness.

Phillips watched her for a
moment before bending down and almost reverently picking up the
broken pieces of his mask. "You have a lot of sins that are going
to be washed away," he said, casting his gaze over Samantha’s
bloody form. "Just remember: pain is the crucible that will forge
the perfect you."

***

The Dark Gentleman tried to
maintain his composure but it was hard to, seated as he was in the
headquarters of the famous Assistance Unlimited, with no less than
Lazarus Gray himself facing him across the table. Morgan and Eun
stood behind their employer, wearing very different expressions.
Morgan looked bemused while Eun seemed to grow more annoyed by the
minute. The face of Lazarus was so impassive that the Dark
Gentleman had no idea what the man was thinking.

"So I’m here because I want
to help. I’m not looking to join Assistance Unlimited, but I
thought that we could pool our resources."

Eun barked out a laugh.
"What resources do you have that we don’t?"

"Enough," Lazarus said and
Eun fell silent. "Michael, I admire your desire to help this city.
It takes a special kind of man to put his life on the line for
strangers. Nevertheless, it’s foolhardy to go into situations like
this without proper training and know-how."

"I’ve done the best I
could," Michael retorted. "It’s not like there’s a vigilante school
where I could enroll."

"Understandable," Lazarus
admitted. "But you’re just as likely to get yourself killed or get
an innocent killed… if you’ll permit me, I’d be willing to tutor
you in various skills."

Michael couldn’t hide the
pleasure he felt. "I’d be honored."

Just then, a phone rang in
the next room and Morgan went to answer it. He returned in less
than a minute. "That was Davies. He says that the meeting’s broken
up at Groseclose’s. But get this: Samantha’s gone, car and all. He
thinks she went off after Phillips."

Eun glanced up at the
clock. "She should have reported in by now."

All of them had overheard
Melvin’s words at the meeting and understood what they meant. But
the arrival of The Dark Gentleman had prevented them from going off
in pursuit of Phillips for questioning.

Now Gray was in motion and
it was a terrible thing to behold. His emerald-colored eye shone
like a gem while the brown one seemed to smolder. His normally
impassive face was now set in grim determination and from the way
his jaw continually clenched and released, it was obvious that a
cauldron of emotion was now at play. He stood up and began barking
orders that were impossible to ignore.

"Morgan, bring the car
around. Eun, tell Max to meet us at Phillips’ house. Michael,
you’re with us."