The Yoga Club

by Cooper Lawrence

  “Please, Coco. Please calm down. I’m incredibly close to wrapping this up. Please. I need your patience,” he begged.

  “No! You’ve ruined my life. He ruined my life,” Coco sobbed as she pointed toward the mayor’s house. “If you’re just going to sit there, I’m going to do something about it. No more patience. I’m done!” She turned and headed for the door.

  Nineteen

  Dial BDS-M for Murder

  Coco wasn’t usually this hotheaded, but her anger propelled her toward the mayor’s house to confront him. When you grow up in the tough streets of Brooklyn, you acquire a certain amount of fearlessness and a willingness to fight that come out at both opportune and inopportune times. She wasn’t sure which one this was. Her street sense had kicked in, overriding her normal calm and rationalizing self; she no longer cared about consequences. Every once in a while, a woman just can’t take it anymore.

  Grabbing her keys, bag, and coat in one fell swoop, she stormed out the door. Olivia and Detective Casey knew that if Coco challenged this devious creep on her own she would be no match for him; but her blind rage couldn’t be reasoned with. Rob turned to Olivia and said, “Let’s go.”

  They ran after Coco, but she was already speeding out the driveway.

  “Let’s take my car,” he said. “Get in.”

  Olivia felt the tension building within her. She knew that this was one of those times her echolalia would betray and embarrass her; she could feel it coming. Even though Rob seemed understanding about it, she prayed she didn’t hear any loud noise that would suddenly make this moment about her.

  Coco careened mindlessly down the mayor’s block. Even though she was propelled by rage, a pang of fear hit her as she realized she had not been at the mayor’s house since the night it all went down. What a cliché that it would end where it began. That part seemed, irrelevantly, to jump out at her. When she got to the guard booth, she saw nobody was there. “Is there anybody ever in there or is it just for show, like this whole fucking façade?” she wondered aloud. No time to be philosophical. She had to put the little big man in his place. How dare he screw with their lives? How dare he ruin her relationship? Sam had left because of him, not because of her. For Coco, rage was the order of the day.

  When she got to the door, she didn’t just bang on it, she practically beat it up. “Open this goddamned door, motherfucker!” she screamed.

  Then she began a diatribe in full Brooklynese, with versions of “fuckhead” and “scumbag” creatively thrown into the mix until it occurred to her that no one was likely to open the door to a raving lunatic. Wouldn’t you just hide inside and pretend you weren’t home? Or call the police? She decided on another approach and politely rang the doorbell once. And it felt so good she pressed it again and again and realized that she was too angry to stop. In the midst of her realizing how much she was enjoying pressing the button and that it was relieving her hostility, the mayor himself opened the door.

  In the meantime, Olivia and Detective Casey caught up to Coco and were right behind her by the time the door opened.

  “Ah, Detective Casey, little Olivia from down the street, and…. well, I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure, who are you?” the mayor said, reaching his hand out to Coco. He knew who she was, the faker, they’d met in Philly. She still refused to shake his hand.

  Olivia stared at her neighbor the mayor and didn’t speak a word, her lips firmly clenched.

  The mayor continued. “I think we have a little mis- understanding. I guess you’d better come in so we can clear things up.” He led them inside. “I’m just as concerned about all of this as you are, so I was only trying to look out for all the parties involved, but I see we’ll need to resolve this face-to-face.”

  “Damn right. You ruined my life, you blackmailing piece of shit!” Coco wasn’t buying his politician act; she’d come for some satisfaction and wasn’t leaving without it. Didn’t that idiot realize she was standing there with a police officer?

  The mayor led them into his living room. Either, Coco thought, this is the epitome of chutzpah or we’re about to be killed. He was taking them, literally, to the scene of the crime.

  “I have to apologize,” the mayor began. Olivia wondered if he was about to confess to the envelopes, the murder, or something else they didn’t know about. Her mind raced, and it took her out of the moment. When she rejoined the conversation, he was saying something about Malcolm.

  “I’m sorry, what about Malcolm?” Olivia asked.

  “Well, you know how those queers are, especially the little ones. Napoleon complex, you know,” he almost stage-whispered. “When they don’t get what they want, they’ll stop at nothing. I have discovered that he’s been trying to blackmail you and your two friends. This is a very grave problem, and I’m so glad I uncovered it before he could do anything to harm you. I didn’t realize I was working with such a dangerous psychopath. My attorney is drawing up a settlement so he will be discharged. My office will support you fully if you wish to press charges.”

  “Charges? Against Malcolm?” Olivia was dumbfounded. “Why would we do that?” The mayor had certainly made the most unexpected play possible.

  “Is this guy for real?” Coco asked. Then, turning to her cohorts she asked, “Is he joking?”

  “No, no. You shouldn’t be shocked. I am happy to be of service. After all, I’m a servant of the people. Whatever you decide to do moving forward, I will be at your disposal,” the mayor said.

  “Yes, that’s very kind of you to be so understanding and helpful,” Detective Casey said firmly. He clearly wanted the mayor to keep talking.

  “Detective, I understand Malcolm’s DNA was on those envelopes, so I realize it should be rather easy to prosecute. I was a district attorney after all,” the mayor said.

  “Will you excuse me one second?” Detective Casey asked, holding up his cell phone, even though nobody had heard it ring. “I need to take this,” he pretended.

  “By all means,” the mayor said graciously.

  “I’ll watch him,” Coco said to Casey, her eyes never leaving Quilty.

  Detective Casey ducked into the next room to call CJ, who was with Malcolm and Bailey on their way to the police station. Casey had called them from the car to let them know what was going on at Chez Quilty.

  “Question. How would the mayor know Malcolm’s DNA was on those envelopes?” Detective Casey asked CJ.

  Hold on, let me ask him. Detective Casey heard muffled voices and CJ speaking to someone, presumably Malcolm.

  CJ came back in a matter of seconds. “He says the mayor insisted he use old envelopes and old stamps without the self-adhesive, and now that he thinks about it, the mayor refused to touch them. Sounds like he was trying to frame him from the beginning.”

  “Gotcha, okay, gotta run. See you over there in a bit.”

  “Detective? Before you go, I would like an acknowledgment that I did not make a dirty joke about Malcolm licking things,” CJ said proudly.

  “Now’s not the time, CJ. But duly noted,” Casey said as he folded his phone shut and went back into the living room.

  “Everything okay, Detective?” the mayor asked.

  “Peachy,” Casey replied and then said, “So let me ask you, how did you know that we found Malcolm’s DNA?”

  “I am just assuming. I mean he did have to lick those stamps and envelopes. That’s why it’s nice to have someone who does all that stuff for you, you know?” The mayor chuckled.

  “You think this is funny?” Coco said.

  “Not at all! All I am saying is that Malcolm committed several crimes and blackmailed you to keep his crimes hidden. Those faggots have no morals,” the mayor said sternly.

  “I’m not going to sit here and listen to this. You committed a murder. You! Not Malcolm, we all saw you, ” Coco said, pointing to Olivia and around the room as if they were all there. “We saw you from that window,” she said, motioning furiously.

  “You must be mistaken. I
lent the house that weekend to Malcolm. I was away! You couldn’t have seen me,” the mayor insisted.

  “No, I’m pretty sure it was you,” Coco maintained. She said “pretty sure” facetiously, but it was lost on Quilty.

  “Pretty sure? That wouldn’t hold up in court, young lady.” The mayor laughed again, looking suddenly relieved. “Besides, Malcolm confessed the whole thing to me. He said he had a mask on. He said that’s why he didn’t think he’d get caught. It was Halloween after all. Well, I guess he was wrong.”

  That was the last straw. Olivia couldn’t take it anymore. The laughing, the lying, the condescension, the homophobia, and the way he was trying to manipulate her, making her feel as if her own eyes had betrayed her. This was the same crap her ex always pulled, making her, the victim, feel like she was responsible for her own misery. And it was exactly what her mother had tried to do—both to her and to her father. The mayor was aware of her mommy issues, and he was taking advantage of them. Damn him.

  Olivia felt that thing inside her about to burst, and she didn’t know what it would do. She just knew she couldn’t stop it.

  Coco looked over at Olivia, and her eyes widened. She could see that her friend was transforming. Into what, Coco didn’t know. A fire emerged from somewhere deep inside Olivia, the glint in her eye telling Coco she was about to witness something they had never seen before. Then, it seemed as if Olivia’s insides burst and the venom came spewing out.

  “You little worm! No, you are lower than a worm. You are a lowly, lifeless piece of shit. I wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire! You disgusting scourge of humanity!” She was possessed and screaming at the mayor, mere inches from his face, like a cute, prim, totally insane drill sergeant. “You insignificant, awful little man, you pathetic creature. You disgust me. You disgust everyone. How ashamed your parents must be of you. How do you look at yourself in the mirror? How can you possibly sleep? How can you live with yourself? You represent everything that’s wrong with this country and with our society. I’m so glad I’m not you, so thankful I’m not you. What you need is to be put over someone’s knee and spanked like the insolent, bratty, awful child that you are!” Olivia’s voice was ferocious and dripping with loathing.

  There was a moment of silence as her explosion was absorbed. Detective Casey stood stunned, witnessing the second meltdown of the day. And as Olivia went on her rant, Coco watched the mayor. She couldn’t take her eyes off him actually. Coco saw the mayor transform. He, who had known sweet little Olivia from around the neighborhood since she was a child, was in shock. Something had clicked in him this time. His head dropped, his body almost collapsed within itself, his shoulders caving in, his face suddenly sallow. It was like the evil Mr. Hyde crumpling into the meager, weak-willed Dr. Jekyll. He whimpered almost imperceptibly, like a scolded child who had disappointed his mother. His lip quivered, and then, as if out of nowhere, the mayor, who only moments before had been arrogant, overconfident, and smug, dropped to his knees.

  “Oh, god, oh, god, you’re right. I’m so sorry. I’m worthless and repulsive. I’m so sorry I’ve let everyone down,” he said as he bowed his head.

  The silence of profound shock filled the room.

  Standing in front of them was a new person. The contemptuous swagger of the conniving politician dissolved, making way for this fawning, dejected wretch. Coco saw immediately what was going on and took over the interrogation. Olivia stood dazed but still in a rage, as shocked by her outburst as everyone else.

  “Tell us everything. Now. ” Coco knew this was the moment to strike, while he was vulnerable. They needed to get the whole story out of him in front of Casey.

  Detective Casey was completely out of his element. In all his years of police work, including that with the FBI, he had never seen such an exchange. Yet intuitively he knew to let Coco and Olivia step in. If his years of experience had taught him anything, it was when to be silent.

  “I didn’t mean it. It was an accident. I killed that woman, it was me. But I swear it was an accident. I deserve to be punished.” The mayor groveled, still on his knees and almost in tears. As he spoke, he reached out toward Olivia. Not knowing what he was going for, and glad she’d worn hard-toed leather shoes, she stepped back so she could kick him if she needed to.

  Detective Casey couldn’t believe what he was witnessing and motioned to Coco to continue. She shrugged, as if she didn’t know what to say next, so Olivia stepped back in.

  “You’re going to tell us every single detail. You’re going to tell us who helped you blackmail us, you’re going to write it all down and sign it, and then you’ll turn yourself in,” she said with power and disdain.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll do it. Whatever you want. I can’t live with it anymore. It’ll help if I show you this,” he said as he led them out to the guesthouse and unlocked the several locks on the door that Coco had noticed on the night of the event.

  Once they got inside, they discovered that the walls were lined with black padded vinyl, the smell of pomegranates—the nectar of the underworld, it is said—wafted throughout, and the floor was a thick shag. On the walls hung medieval looking switches, latex garments, leather masks, and handcuffs; a cage and something that looked like a swing was suspended from the ceiling. Holy crap, Coco thought, the mayor has a dungeon in his guesthouse.

  The hypocrisy of it all did not escape her. She was filled with a curiosity that disgusted her, but she knew that once he was in his element, he would tell them everything.

  Coco decided to make sure that happened and played it up by picking up a medieval mace that was hanging from the wall. She hoped it was only there for decorative purposes.

  “This is my secret,” the mayor began. “I actively engage in BDSM as a submissive. It’s the only way I can relieve the tension that comes with being in power. I’m aware that it’s rather taboo, but it’s the only thing in my life that provides satisfaction. It’s very difficult to find willing participants, and because of the need for anonymity and privacy, I can’t be seen visiting professional dungeons, so I hire dominatrixes to come here. That night I had hired a woman to come—it was a good night for it since everyone would be distracted by Halloween. I told the Thomsons I had a leak in my house so that I could leave their party early.”

  Olivia leaned over and whispered to Coco, “What’s BDSM?”

  Coco whispered back, “Look around you and figure it out.”

  “Where did she come in from?” Detective Casey asked.

  “She was from Queens. Astoria. I found her on Craigs-list. She was amazing: covered in tattoos, had nose rings and piercings all over, all the stuff I love. She was everything I thought she would be, and more. I brought her in through that private entrance,” he said as he pointed to an almost unseen door. Her rate was a thousand dollars an hour, but I was having her stay the night, so I offered to pay her five times that amount.”

  Olivia leaned in to Coco and whispered, “That better not have been taxpayer money he used.” Coco shushed her quietly.

  The mayor went on to describe this woman and the finer details of her “outfit,” which matched what Olivia and Coco had seen through the window.

  “Anyway,” the mayor continued, “I paid her up front, as we had arranged beforehand, and then she put me in this,” he said as he pointed to a leather straitjacket. “And then she pulled a gun on me. At first I thought it was part of the scene, but then I realized she was going to rob me, or worse. She said she would take everything and that if I reported her or tried to have her arrested, she would expose me—she said she knew who I was, and I believed that she did.

  “I couldn’t have that. I struggled in the straitjacket, which she hadn’t completely finished cinching. I was trying to free my arms, and I managed to get them in front of me. When I turned to stop her, I put my arms, which were still bound, over her head. She went crazy and started screaming at me— ‘I’ll kill you, motherfucker! You’re a dead man. I’m gonna cut your fucking balls off.’ It s
cared the hell out of me. I was afraid for my life. We wrestled on the floor.”

  Detective Casey let out a low sigh. “And people wonder why we always tell them not to get involved in this sort of—”

  Coco made a zip-it sign to Casey, out of the mayor’s sight.

  “This was not at all the sort of thing I had in mind,” the mayor continued, looking askance at the detective. “I pay to be made afraid, but this was totally different. I was much bigger than she, and as we rolled around on the floor, she pushed her elbows into my ribs and kicked me in the groin while my arms were still around her neck. Eventually she started slowing down, and I thought I was tiring her out, winning the fight.”

  He paused, seeming to gather himself, and took in a sharp breath. “Finally she just stopped, and it felt like she’d given up. I was screaming at her, how dare she! I said I’d have her arrested. But she didn’t respond. That’s when she went limp, and I realized that I’d strangled her. I panicked.” He searched the room for understanding but received looks suggesting he was pitiful.

  “The whole thing happened in the living room. We hadn’t even gotten over here to the guesthouse yet. I was thinking I was going to put her body in an old chest. I couldn’t let it be discovered in my house! I was just going to leave her somewhere she could be found.

  “So, that’s when you saw me. Rolling her body up in the rug; I couldn’t think of anything else. When I heard a noise outside”—at this, Olivia instinctively put her hand over her mouth—“I looked over and saw the strangest sight. Four Sarah Palins staring at me. I was certain it was the worst dream I’d ever had.