by J L Aarne
Rainer got into his car and closed the door, but he rolled the window down so they could still talk. He started it and rested his arm outside the window, eyeing Ezekiel thoughtfully.
“Officially or unofficially?” he asked.
“Unofficially at the moment,” Ezekiel said.
Rainer grinned. “You were missing for a while. I was starting to wonder.”
Ezekiel walked over and leaned down in the window to look him in the eyes. “I have to chase you, so you have to run. It’s who we are,” he said.
Rainer cocked his head. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
Ezekiel stood back up, turned and walked away. “Then I’ll be seeing you around,” he said over his shoulder.
Rainer watched him go until Ezekiel was out of the parking lot and making his way across the grass. The pieces were moving across the board now and he was no longer playing with himself. He touched his fingers to his lips and winced. The bottom one was split where he’d bit it when his teeth clacked together and his fingers came away bloody.
It’s who we are, he thought.
He licked the blood off his fingertips. Then he turned on the radio, turned it up, backed out and drove toward home.
Chapter 15
Solomon Bovard was a professional criminal, a young hacker with a genius IQ who had discovered early in his life that crime did pay—a lot. Lucrative as it was, most of his criminal activity was of the white-collar sort, which made him a valuable asset to someone like Ezekiel, who was intelligent enough to recognize the potential. Sol was wanted for a laundry list of transgressions in many states and several countries. His friendship and connections were invaluable.
Sol lived on the second floor of a converted warehouse that was owned by a friend of his Ezekiel had never met. He shared it with his girlfriend, Mary and a few other people who were as good as family to them. Ezekiel arrived shortly after dark, parked in the back and walked around to the entrance. He rang the doorbell and waited to be buzzed inside.
He stepped off the freight elevator and was greeted by Trichto, Sol’s friend and work colleague. Trichto was kind of a strange looking guy. He was attractive; tall, blond, nice face, but his eyes didn’t match. One was dark green and the other was grey. It made looking him in the eye a little disorienting. Trichto walked by him into the kitchen to refill his coffee cup and took a second cup down from the cupboard for Ezekiel.
“So, where is everyone?” Ezekiel asked him. He took the offered coffee and sipped. It was a little too weak for his taste, but at least it wasn’t the decaf Trichto usually drank.
“Mary was watching a movie a little while ago, but I think she fell asleep. Sol and Mala are in the office. Come on.” Trichto led the way down the hallway.
Sol’s office was at the end of the hallway. It was a large room, but it had a claustrophobic air to it because the windows were covered and the only light came from the computers and a couple of lamps.
When Trichto and Ezekiel entered the room, Sol was sitting at the desk, reading something off a computer monitor while he talked to Mala, who sat on the floor beside him with his chin propped on his thigh. Sol was not a big guy like Trichto and though he was attractive, it was not the first thing one noticed about him or the most interesting. Mala, on the other hand, was the kind of pretty that could be distracting.
“Yeah, I got that part,” Sol was saying. “You were going to pay him for it, but he countered with an offer to fuck you for it instead. That’s kinda the definition of whoring yourself.”
Mala sighed. He was smiling though and Ezekiel got the impression that this was a friendly debate that had been going on for some time. “I didn’t pay for the coke with sex,” Mala said. “He asked if I wanted to and he’s hot and I like him, so I thought, sure. Which is what I said. So, I had sex with him and he didn’t charge me for the coke.”
Sol laughed a little. Still looking at the computer, he scrolled with one hand on the touchpad and petted Mala’s dark hair with the other. “I know, baby,” he said. “You already told me that, but that’s whore logic.”
Mala frowned up at him. “That’s mean, Sol.”
“Hey, I have nothing but the deepest respect for whores of every ilk,” Sol said.
“I am not a whore,” Mala said.
“I think he’s right,” Trichto said.
Mala glanced at Trichto. “No,” he said, “he’s not.”
“Well, technically, you did pay for the drugs with sex,” Trichto pointed out. He walked into the room to stand behind Sol and read over his shoulder. “Maybe you didn’t intend it that way, but from the sound of things, that would be precisely the conclusion your drug dealing friend would come to when all is said and done.”
Mala thought about it. “That’s just… I wasn’t trying to buy drugs with sex. You make it sound really nasty. I’ve met whores like that and they are nasty. Diseased, gross, meth-faced…” Mala shuddered. “Ick.”
“Uh-huh, this is what I’m saying,” Sol said. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to end up being that guy they won’t take money from. You really want to be the dude who has to suck nasty pusher cock to score?”
“No,” Mala said sullenly.
“Or,” Sol said, raising his hand from Mala’s head to lift a finger, “you’ll end up arrested for accidental prostitution, which no one will ever fucking believe was an accident, then your pretty ass will get passed around jail like the coin of the realm.”
“You’d bail me out,” Mala said.
“Yeah, but you’d still probably end up fucked a few times without your permission by big, mean neo-Nazi’s and greasy gangsters before I got you out. Possibly a cop or two as well.”
“Ew,” Mala said.
“This is my point,” Sol said.
“Don’t fuck strangers should really be your point,” Trichto said.
“He’s free to fuck who he likes, but use your head,” Sol said. He petted his fingers through Mala’s hair again and Mala closed his eyes, enjoying it. “He’s free to bestow the wonders of his magic starfish on whoever he desires. But I’d really rather not have to rescue him from jail and all manner of prison rape scenarios that are currently running through my head just because he decided to ride the wrong dude’s pole for a little blow he could have simply paid for. You listening to me, Mala?”
Mala nodded. “Yeah, okay. I get it,” he said. “I’m not a whore though. It wasn’t like that.”
“Fine, but so other people don’t see it like that, maybe try to be more discerning about who you bend over for,” Sol said.
Mala chuffed in a half amused, half dismissive way. He put his hand on Sol’s leg and inched his fingers toward the inside of his thigh. Sol went still and looked down at him and Mala smiled. “I’ve still got some. You want to do a bump with me?”
Sol was tempted, but he reluctantly shook his head. “Give me a few minutes here with Officer Friendly,” he said. “Save me some.”
Mala grinned, leaned up and kissed him quickly then hopped up from the floor and left. “Hey, Officer Friendly,” he greeted Ezekiel as he passed. “You don’t look very friendly.”
Ezekiel had nothing to say to that. He drank some of his coffee and walked over to put a file on Sol’s desk. It was the information he had on Rainer Bryssengur. “I want everything. I want to know where he went to school, who he was friends with, his grades, his teachers, his playmates, his date to the prom. I want to know when he lost his fucking virginity and who he lost it to. Everything.”
“Uh-huh. That’s not weirdly obsessive and invasive or anything,” Sol said. He flipped open the manila folder and glanced down at the first page. While he was reading, he began typing. “I can work with this. I already got you what’s on public record. Some shit that isn’t but it’s pretty boring. He has a brother two years older than him. His parents are semi-famous sorts who hobnob with other famous and semi-famous sorts a lot. He works at a university, but I figure you know that. Teaches English, is pretty popular
with the students, published a few short stories, essays and some poetry, but nothing major, is a close associate of the writer, Cosra Melmoth. I know him, by the way. Melmoth, I mean. Well, not know him, but I’ve met him. At a friend’s wedding a few years ago. Anyway, bank accounts don’t show any suspicious activity. The guy seems oddly uninterested in money for a rich kid, in fact.”
Ezekiel stood beside Trichto and watched Sol. Sol typed for a second, brought up a headshot photo of Rainer on the university website then reached over on a squat file cabinet for a manila file of his own, which he passed to Ezekiel.
“That’s what I’ve got right now,” he said. “Haven’t found his psych records, but I will. He was a kid and it was a long time ago. They might be hardcopies stuffed in a closet somewhere and beyond the reach of my lightning fingers, but I can still get them for you probably. Unless there was a convenient fire or flood or something. What kind of dude is this anyway?”
“A psychopathic serial killer,” Ezekiel said absently, reading.
“You’re going to a lot of trouble over a guy you’re planning to kill anyway. You know that right?” Sol said.
“Yeah,” Ezekiel said.
“Maybe he wants to make sure he’s really a killer first,” Trichto suggested.
Ezekiel was already sure he was a killer. He really didn’t know why he was going to so much trouble at this point. Most others, once he’d decided to kill them instead of arrest them, would have already been dead. But Rainer wanted to play and Ezekiel found his game appealing in his cat-like way.
“You’re helping me to stack the deck in my favor,” he said. “And I appreciate it.”
“Sure, man. You’re going to owe me though,” Sol said.
Ezekiel lifted his gaze from the printout he’d been reading to look at him over the top of it. “Sure,” he said. “It’s only fair. Quid pro quo. Don’t get arrested though. I can get your little boyfriend out of jail for accidental hooking, but they’d likely put you under the prison if they ever arrest you again.”
Sol kicked back in his chair, smirking. “I know.”
Ezekiel chuffed a soft laugh. “Helps your reputation, I’m sure.”
Mary came to stand in the door just inside the room and looked around at them all sleepily. Her black hair was mussed and her eyeliner had smeared around her eyes and made her big brown eyes appear huge in her pale face.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” Sol said.
Mary squinted at the computer monitor behind his shoulder and walked into the room. “Why do you have a picture of Mr. Bryssengur on your computer, Samhain?”
Sol, Trichto and Ezekiel all looked at her. Ezekiel pointed at the computer and said, “You know that guy?”
“Yeah. He teaches this class I take. It’s about death,” Mary said.
Sol and Trichto exchanged a quiet, alarmed look. “This fucking guy’s your English teacher?” Sol asked.
Mary looked at him like she was starting to worry about his intelligence. “That’s what I said, Samhain. I like his class. It’s interesting. Except for the murder ballads we read a couple weeks ago. Those suck, but then he assigned us Nick Cave music and that was cool. And even the murder ballads, he made them interesting.”
“What kind of English class is this?” Ezekiel asked.
“It’s some kind of special study. It’s about death in literature, how the way it’s represented changes through time and different cultures and symbolism and how it figures strongly throughout time and it’s romanticized and—” Mary shrugged. “It’s about death.”
It sounded right up Rainer’s alley.
“Why is Mr. Bryssengur on your computer?” Mary asked Sol again. She turned her head and looked at Ezekiel as if just realizing he was there. “And why are you here, Ezekiel?”
“He thinks Mr. Bryssengur’s a psychopathic serial killer,” Trichto said. “I don’t think you should go to that class anymore, Mary,” he added fretfully.
“Oh, please, Tri-Daddy,” Mary said. “He’s not going to psycho kill me.”
“You don’t know that,” Trichto said. He had adopted Mary when she was sixteen so that she wouldn’t be taken away and placed in yet another foster home. He had no other children and he was a little overprotective.
“Whatever. Samhain, I want to go to bed,” Mary told Sol.
“We’re done here anyway,” Sol said. He turned off the computer monitor and stood up to walk over to her. “I’ll check in with you about this and update you and shit,” he told Ezekiel. “I know you don’t sleep, but if you don’t answer, I’ll leave you a message. It shouldn’t take that long. Maybe a few days.”
“Sounds good,” Ezekiel said. He knew when he was being pushed out the door and it was late for the average non-insomniac. “Be careful,” he told Mary. “I know, I know, he won’t kill you and you’re probably right, but he did kill a student at that school awhile back, so be careful anyway.”
Mary yawned and put her head on Sol’s shoulder. “Yeah, okay.”
“I still think you should consider dropping the class, Mary,” Trichto said.
Mary didn’t even reply to that and it seemed doubtful that she would do that. Ezekiel didn’t know Mary that well, but he knew her well enough to know that she more or less did what she wanted, ran circles around the men in her life and owned Sol. She would do what she would do and all they could do was hope she wasn’t Rainer’s type.
“Shit, it’s full moon in a couple days,” Sol said. He, Trichto and Mala were all wolves. Actually, the only one of their company and the only occupant of the warehouse who was not a shifter was Mary. Sol thought about it then made a dismissive sound. “Shouldn’t matter. If I don’t get it to you before then, you’ll get it shortly after.”
“It’s all right. I appreciate it,” Ezekiel said. He finished his coffee and looked at Trichto. “Mind if I have another cup before I go?”
“No. Actually, I’ll have to dump the rest of the pot pretty soon before fucking Devion gets home or he’s liable to throw it,” Trichto said. He led the way out of the bedroom and Ezekiel followed him.
“Fucking Devion” was Trichto’s brother. He owned the converted warehouse and a few others around it and had a horrible temper. Trichto was still exaggerating a bit about the coffee pot.
They left Mary and Sol and went back down the hallway to the kitchen where Trichto emptied what was left of the coffee into Ezekiel’s cup. He drank it and Trichto washed the pot and the few other dishes in the sink, then the cup when he was finished.
As Ezekiel was leaving, he passed Mala going to the bedroom. “I think they’re getting ready for bed,” he said.
“That’s okay,” Mala said.
Ezekiel gave a mental shrug and hit the button to summon the elevator.
Mala poked his head around the wall and smiled at him. “Goodnight, Officer Friendly.”
Outside, Ezekiel stood beside his car for a little while and looked at the sky. The warehouse was outside of the city far enough that the light of some of the brightest stars could be seen through the perpetual haze of smog that lay over it like a blanket. The moon was more clear, too. Silver rather than the infected wound yellow of the moon seen from the inner city. It wasn’t quite full yet, but he could feel the tide of its waxing pull in his blood and the cat pacing beneath his skin to break free.
Ezekiel checked his watch. It was 1:00 a.m. He got in his car, started it and drove home.
Chapter 16
Thanks to Cosra’s help, Rainer finished grading papers late Saturday night while he watched reruns of Cold Case on TV. The TV was new, like the dark blue speckled Wilton pile carpet and the ivory paint on the walls. The new TV was much bigger and nicer than his old TV. While grading papers, he mostly listened to it in the background and the sound was very good and clear, too. Knowing Elijah, it had cost a fortune, but all Rainer cared about was that it worked so he could watch his late night programs.
Pogo had taken a day to get used to the remodelin
g. The new floor tile and new carpet; the new smell of everything had distressed him so much the first day that he paced the walls yowling in protest. Rainer had become so annoyed with it that he filled a spray bottle with water and kept it on the table to squirt him with it whenever he started. Finally he stopped and went to sleep on the back of the couch.
Rainer was finishing a note on one of the last student papers he had left when someone in the apartment next door began shouting. He stopped to listen and frowned at the wall. It sounded like a man and the apartment right next door to his belonged to Caleb and his mother. Caleb was a quiet kid. He did not shout.
After a few minutes, it stopped and he finished grading papers. Then he went into the kitchen, microwaved some leftovers Thomas had sent home with him Friday night after their date and took his plate outside. He propped it on the railing and stood on the walkway in front of his door while he ate and watched the parking lot, the sidewalk in front of the building and the street. Thomas had made him spicy shrimp scampi with pasta and vegetables. It was delicious and he ate a little too much.
There was a car parked on the other side of the building next to the sidewalk that seemed suspiciously familiar and he tried to think why. It wasn’t Thomas’s car or Cosra’s and if it had belonged to someone who lived in the building, it wouldn’t have been parked next to the curb like that. It was a nice black car. It was too dark out even with the streetlights to see if anyone was inside it, but it looked like it had tinted windows.
Rainer lit a cigarette and stared at the strangely familiar car. He didn’t know for a fact whose car it was, but he had his suspicions. He flicked ash onto his dinner plate and lifted his hand to wiggle his fingers in a little wave toward the car.
Behind him, a door opened and closed. Rainer turned his head as Caleb came to stand with him at the railing. He was pale and unhappy, his hands hidden by the overlong sleeves of his shirt, his eyes a little red around the edges like he had been crying. He usually wore eyeliner these days and he was one of those young men who looked good in it. He was wearing it now, but it was smeared beneath his eyes and along one brow like it had been wiped at violently.