Evolution of a Killer

by Robert Ullrich

  Garza looked him in the eyes. “What’s the catch?” Concern showed on his face in spite of himself.

  “Yer gonna have to double the investment. This ain’t gonna be cheap, and it damn sure won’t be easy. Boss is gonna have to burn one of his identities for ya, and an air-tight identity like that takes years to build, let alone a ton of money to maintain it. Can ya handle that?”

  Enrique mulled it over for a few minutes, sipping on his beer and staring off in the distance. Finally, he spoke. “Yes, I can. I knew going in this wouldn’t be easy, and that it would probably be expensive. It’s more than I planned, but I can manage it, and still have enough to live out my days in Argentina.”

  “Excellent,” said Lazarus. “That’s gonna make the big guy happy, and a happy Chameleon is a safe Chameleon to do yer business with.” He went on, “Besides, he reckons it oughta to be worth it to ya, gettin’ relocated to yer ‘Dream Getaway’ and all.”

  Garza laughed at that. “Yes, I suppose that’s right and more than fair. So how do I get the money to him?”

  Lazarus pulled out a card from his shirt pocket and handed it to him. “Wire the money from one of your personal accounts to this number within 24 hours and we’ll be good to go. How soon ya want him to make it happen?”

  “The sooner the better,” said Garza, thinking about his brother. “Yes, the sooner the better.”

  Lazarus gave him his most engaging smile and put an arm around Garza to give him a hug. “Then we’ll git on it ASAP for ya,” he said. “Once the money is transferred, it’s still gonna take a couple three weeks to put it together. We gotta keep suspicions offa you and keep the boss in the clear. He’ll have yer new identity in ‘bout a week. As soon as I talk to him tonight, I might give ya a shout on what needs to be done so’s we can git this ball rollin’. You reckon you’re good for 3 weeks?”

  Garza, who wasn’t sure, but WANTED to believe he was, replied, “I can handle three weeks if that’s what it takes, but if it can be sooner that would be appreciated.”

  “Then we got this,” said Lazarus. “Not for nuthun, but I like ya, Enrique, and nothin’ll make me happier than to see ya on yer way safely to Argentina. Until then, I’ll be on ya like white on rice for protection, so if ya see me don’t go givin’ me a look or nuthun. It’s for yer safety in case someone comes looking for ya. The boss protects his clients like they’re family. That goes for the missus, too.”

  “I understand,” Garza said with gratitude in his voice. “By the way, are you hungry?”

  “Hell yeah I am. I could eat the asshole out of a damn skunk if I had me some good salsa and ‘bout 3 more beers.”

  Garza laughed, “I can do you better than that. You like Mexican?”

  “Is the Pope a damn Catholic?”

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Follow me to Arandas. Damn good food, if you don’t mind being around the Rockport P.D. They tend to eat there a lot.”

  “No problem for me,” said Lazarus, “I ain’t got no record or warrants hanging out there, so I’m good to go.”

  Garza stood up and offered his hand which Lazarus took, “Thank you, Cooper.”

  “Thank you for what?” Lazarus asked.

  “Thank you for watching over me and my wife. It means a lot to know that I’m not on my own with this any longer.”

  “Shit, Enrique, ain’t no need to be thankin’ me. It’s what I do, and I’m glad to do it for ya.”

  Breakfast at Arandas did not disappoint, and true to his prediction there were two Rockport officers and a sheriff’s deputy there when they arrived. No matter, Lazarus enjoyed the meal, particularly considering the half million he’d be getting for the job.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After breakfast at Arandas, Lazarus went back to the La Quinta. He quickly made the transition out of the Cooper identity. He drove the Expedition to the storage facility and picked up his Rover. From there, Lazarus drove to the house on Cayman, pulling the Rover into the garage and dropping the door behind him.

  Once inside he sent Langston, leash and all out to do his business while he fired up the laptop. Lazarus began to put together an outline of what it would require accomplishing the disappearance and relocation of Garza to Argentina. He wasn’t going to have Garza “die”, in spite of his wishes. He fired off a copy to Kat. Lazarus knew that if there were any flaws in the plan, she would identify them for him. He also gave her the identity he wanted to use for Garza’s transition.

  Lazarus wrote, “Use the identity Eduardo Hernandez, from Houston.” He hated to burn that identity. Hernandez was one of the few Hispanic identities that he had created, but it was perfect for this job. Lazarus continued, “I also want you to dig deeper into Garza’s life. We already know about the money he has hidden in the Caymans, but I want to know anything and everything there is to know about this guy. There’s something about him that’s bothering me. I can’t put my finger on it, but something is definitely tweaking my radar.” Katsumi had learned long ago to trust Lazarus’ radar. It wasn’t that she understood it. She’d learned that Lazarus was rarely wrong about it.

  “I also want to know how he’s moving the money, shell companies, aliases, legitimate looking transfers, etc. Anything related to how he’s transferring the funds. I don’t want Torano getting ahead of us. If he starts digging before we figure it out, it’ll really screw things up; especially if Garza left a trail on the money he transferred to my account. That would be the last thing I need.”

  “Dig deep, and I mean really deep into his personal life, too. If you run into any problems, contact Dan at the NSA. Tell him I’m vetting Mr. Garza for the Second Chance Foundation. He’ll understand what I’m looking for and take it from there. You can trust Dan, I do with my life.”

  Lazarus sent the email, knowing that Katsumi was probably on a beach somewhere with Baxter. Even so, she’d be checking email regularly and would handle it as soon as she got it.

  Lazarus poured himself three fingers of Kibiki 17 and headed out to the back deck with a Gurkha Yakuza. He sipped the Japanese whiskey, enjoying the cigar as the sun dipped behind the famous wind-blown bent oaks across Little Bay. Langston came back up, trailing the leash behind him and hopped up onto one of the deck chairs after Lazarus removed the lead. They watched the brown pelicans and herons winging their way over the bay. Lazarus smiled to himself, or at least he thought of it as a smile. If you saw it, you would more likely get chills than return one.

  “Game on, Langston,” he mused out loud. Langston perked his ears and turned to look at his master. “I have to admit though; I was really looking forward to killing someone.” Langston, picking up on his tone, whined softly and came over to lie down by Lazarus. He put his head on Lazarus’ feet and whined softly again. Lazarus set down the now empty whiskey glass and reached down to scratch him behind the ears, Langston’s favorite spot. “It’s going to be fine, buddy,” said Lazarus. “Maybe something will pop up for us.”

  Lazarus wanted to believe that he never killed for the sake of killing. He thought he was above it, that he had control over the rage within him. He did for the most part; channeling the rage into his contracts usually sated the demon within. A demon that needed to feed from time to time. Langston quickly drifted off to sleep under Lazarus’ gentle touch and soothing voice. Neither of them moved for over 4 hours. It was 10:00 when Lazarus whistled three short bursts and Langston quickly roused himself, heading out to do his business.

  Langston came up the stairs to find the back door open. He moved cautiously into the darkened house. Lazarus was naked, his eyes closed – sitting in the middle of the living room floor. He was holding a Tanfoglio Witness Elite Limited Pro in one hand and his 32” hand forged Katana in the other. Lazarus was in a trance of his own making; neither asleep nor awake. Soundlessly, Langston approached his master and lay down with his back to Lazarus’. They stayed that way until the first light of dawn began to filter through the front of the house. Only then did Lazarus open his eyes. He took a deep
breath and slowly exhaled through pursed lips. He repeated the action about a dozen times before Langston got to his feet and came around to look Lazarus in the eyes. Lazarus laid the weapons almost reverently on the carpet. With that same cold smile of the night before he said, “Langston my boy, tonight I hunt.”

  *****

  Lazarus grabbed his go bag and headed out to the garage, tossing it in the Rover. He went back in and ate a huge breakfast. He was famished from the night long vigil. Six scrambled eggs, ten slices of maple cured bacon, six whole wheat pancakes slathered in butter and drowned in Log Cabin syrup and four bananas later, he was full. Langston ate well too, with his own plate of scrambled eggs and bacon.

  Lazarus looked at the time, 8:15, and glanced out the window. Apparently, a front had moved through during the night. The driveway was wet, and the street gutters had standing water in them. The wind was whipping up fairly good whitecaps on the bay. Lazarus stood on the back deck watching Garza’s house until he saw the black SUV pull out of the driveway. He stayed there until he spotted the Mercedes again; heading down Broadway on the other side of the bay, making sure Garza was headed to Corpus.

  “I’ll be right back,” Lazarus said to Langston, slipping on a black Calvin Klein windbreaker as he headed out the door. Five minutes later Lazarus was ringing the door bell at Garza’s house.

  A young woman opened the door almost immediately. She was beautiful, with shoulder length brown hair, pale brown eyes and an almost perfect tan to go with her almost perfectly formed body. If that surprised Lazarus, he didn’t show it. He put on his most engaging smile and said, “Good morning. My name is Lazarus, and I’d like to speak with Angelique, if she is available.”

  She answered flatly, “My mistress told me all about the tall good-looking stranger with the beautiful black shepherd staying over on Cayman. Since you’re obviously not a black German shepherd, I assume you would be Mr. Solaris.” By the time she finished, she was smiling in spite of herself, which got a half-laugh out of Lazarus.

  “Fair enough”, Lazarus replied, “although, Langston is one damn good looking German.”

  It was her turn to laugh. “Good morning, Mr. Solaris, I’m Rebecca Newton, Miss Angelique’s personal assistant and erstwhile housekeeper. I’m really not that good at housekeeping though.”

  “I’m fairly certain that she doesn’t keep you around just for your dusting skill set,” said Lazarus with a wink that made Rebecca blush.

  Somewhat flustered, Rebecca said, “Please come in. I’ll let Angelique know you’re here.” She closed the door behind him and headed towards the back of the house.

  Lazarus drank her in with his eyes as she walked away, noticing that she shared the same model stride he noticed in Angelique. He thought to himself, “now THAT is a very spank worthy ass if I’ve ever seen one.”

  When she disappeared around the corner he took in the foyer. There were several paintings adorning the entry. All of them originals, though he didn’t recognize the workmanship. Regardless, they were all excellent oils of life on the Gulf Coast, from a shrimp boat plying the waters of the bay to a pair of Whooping Cranes dancing in the marsh.

  Rebecca returned two minutes later. “If you will, please follow me.” She led him to a cozy breakfast nook at the northwest corner of the house with a beautiful view of the bay. Angelique was sitting at the left end of a beautiful white oak table set, her black hair hanging loose, wrapped in a beautiful flowered Japanese kimono. From the look of it, she was wearing nothing else. She looked up, her fluorescent blue eyes sparkling in the light and smiled.

  “Good morning, Lazarus,” said Angelique, gesturing to the chair at the other end of the table, “coffee?”

  “Yes, if it isn’t a bother.” He turned to Rebecca and said, “Black please, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all, Mr. Solaris,” Rebecca replied as she headed towards the kitchen, returning in less than a minute with a cup of steaming black coffee. “Will there be anything else?” she asked.

  Angelique answered, “No, Rebecca, nothing for now, thank you.” Lazarus watched Rebecca as she headed back towards the living room.

  “So, you approve of her?” she asked with a devilish grin.

  Lazarus looked her straight in the eyes and answered with a smile, “What’s NOT to approve of? She’s beautiful and has a very spank-worthy derriere, if I do say so myself.”

  Angelique laughed, shaking her head at his candidness about Rebecca. When she stopped laughing, she asked, “So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this morning?”

  “Something came up last night and I need to drive up to Houston to put out a fire, so to speak,” said Lazarus.

  “Nothing serious I hope?” asked Angelique.

  “It isn’t serious, at least not yet, but it could be in short order. It’s a personnel issue at one of my companies, and a potentially delicate one at that. I’ll have to be gone at least overnight, but it may be as long as 3 days. I was hoping that is if I am not being presumptuous, that you could look after Langston for me while I was gone. I would prefer to take him with me, but I can’t. I don’t want to board him. I never have and I don’t think he’d take well to it. He isn’t the confining type. If you can’t, I completely understand. Maybe you could refer me to a good dog-sitter.”

  “I won’t have that beautiful animal staying with someone he doesn’t know,” said Angelique. “I’d be happy to watch him for you; besides, I believe your Langston has a bit of a ‘thing’ for Cheyenne, and the feelings may very well be mutual.”

  “You may be right about that,” said Lazarus with a laugh. “I’ve never seen him act like that around another dog. Langston seems to defer to her, which isn’t his usual temperament when it comes to other canines.”

  Lazarus’ laugh came out smooth and naturally, somewhat surprising himself. He didn’t know what it was about this woman, but she put him at ease like no one ever had. There was something primal about her, something untarnished by the world. She always looked him directly in the eyes when she spoke, a rarity in his life. Very few people, in fact only Dr. Helen and Darnell were the exceptions. Not even Kat could look Lazarus in the eyes consistently when she spoke to him in person. It made him want her even more.

  “Thank you, Angelique,” said Lazarus. “You have no idea what a relief it will be for me to know he’s in your care,” his smile broadening as he spoke. “Here’s a key to the house. His food is in the pantry next to the refrigerator. Langston gets two cups twice a day, usually around 7 in the morning and as close to 5 in the afternoon as I can get it. There’s also a large water bowl by the door leading out to the back deck.”

  “He won’t mind me coming in without you?” asked Angelique.

  “He won’t, if you approach him properly,” Lazarus replied. “When you open the door, Langston will come to see who it is; stopping 6 feet from you. It won’t appear so, but he will be on guard. Once he’s stopped, slowly raise your left-hand palm out and then close it quickly while saying ‘Guden Tag, Herr Langston’. He’ll sit, and then you can enter. Langston responds to almost all voice commands in English. However, don’t try and impress him with your knowledge of French. That could go badly if you say the wrong thing.” Lazarus had stopped smiling as he spoke the last two sentences.

  “Gut in tag, Herr Langston,” Angelique repeated. “That’s all I have to do?”

  “Don’t forget the palm out first, which will tell him you are not a threat.”

  “And what do I do about Cheyenne?” she asked.

  “As long as Cheyenne is behind you, or at least sitting by you, Langston will accept her, too. He’s well trained.”

  “I can tell. I also believe he’d rip someone’s throat out if you told him to, and probably not make a sound doing it.” Angelique didn’t look worried or concerned at the prospect.

  “You’re right about that,” said Lazarus. “However, he’ll only do it on the correct command or if I am in immediate danger. His leash is hanging on a hoo
k by the front door, not that you need it, but there’s that pesky leash law around here and he’ll tolerate it just fine.”

  “Now if you will excuse me, I need to get on the road,” said Lazarus rising from the table.

  “Leaving so soon?” Angelique asked.

  “I’m afraid so. The sooner I get there, the sooner I can take care of my business and get back. I have my bags packed and, in the Rover, so I could leave from here if everything worked out. Now I can, thanks to your gracious acceptance.”

  “Very well then,” said Angelique as she stood, her breast flashing beneath the kimono as she turned to walk him to the front door.

  “Be safe, Lazarus,” she said as she opened the door for him. “You and I have unfinished business to discuss.”

  Lazarus almost kissed her right there, and he was 90% sure she wouldn’t have objected. Instead, he took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Yes, Mon Cheri, we do.” Lazarus kissed her hand as she pressed it up against his lips.

  Smiling softly, she said, “Good bye for now, Lazarus,” to which he replied, “Indeed, only for now.”

  Lazarus opened his mouth as though to say something more, but closed it into a smile, releasing her hand as he turned on his heel and headed to the Rover. He looked back to see Cheyenne standing by her side and he waved as he backed out onto Barbados.

  “Cheyenne-a-Nan?” said Angelique, calling Cheyenne by her nickname. “That’s a man I believe I could lose myself in, and frankly I don’t think I’d mind that one damn bit.” She sighed as she closed the door and headed up to her room to change. “Well, girlie, we need to get ready for our morning stroll, and this time we're going to have company.” Cheyenne followed Angelique up the stairs, eager to get out on the street.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lazarus chained up Randy in the back of the truck and then scanned the lot. He spotted a couple coming out of clothing store, so he waited until they drove off. No one else was in sight. He went to the Silverado and climbed into the box, lying down beside the girl. He checked her pulse, it was strong, and her breathing appeared normal. Lazarus suspected a broken jaw from the look of the swelling. He took the truck keys and the money from Randy’s wallet, which was almost 500 dollars, and laid them next to her. Then he wrote a note and put it under the keys.