Jade Dragon (Action Girl Thrillers)

by A. D. Phillips

  The air surrounding the dance floor was warm and smoky. Waitresses in silvery bikini tops and miniskirts served leery-eyed customers around the stage. Many of the girls were young and good looking, but all the men were busy watching ‘Lady Cleopatra’. That was her stage name. Jade knew the bronze skinned stripper as Hannah Davies, her former colleague at Dragonsoft. Hannah used to be the Cyber Maidens’ graphic designer, but had since left the videogame world behind. She now seemed content to promote her other artistic assets.

  Hannah reached the pinnacle of her act. The Pharaoh impersonator discarded her scepter, headdress, robes, and lastly her underwear. She strutted across the stage, completely nude except for an ankh-clasped belt inscribed with mock Egyptian hieroglyphs. Hannah climbed up vertical poles and spun around, much to the delight of the cheering male audience. She paused by each table in turn, treating individual customers to kisses. Some men showed their appreciation by sliding dollar bills under Hannah’s belt. She had no objection to them feeling her body.

  “Wasn’t she a treat, guys?” a middle-aged, male presenter shouted over the loudspeaker. “Let’s hear it for… Lady Cleopatra!”

  Patrons rose from their seats, whistling and applauding. Hannah made a final lap of the stage, and collected her clothes. She blew kisses to the crowd, bowed, and walked out of the spotlight, disappearing into the employees’ private dressing room.

  “Next up, ladies and gents,” said the presenter, “is the Hawaiian beauty exclusive to the Exotic Pearl. She’s sweet, she’s sexy, our very own… Honolula!”

  The next stripper act followed her cue. Honolula was a tanned exotic dancer sporting a straw coat, skirt and hat. The clubbers ordered extra beer rounds and settled down for more action. Jade sat in an empty booth over in the far corner. It was the most secluded seating area she could find, as far away as possible from the loud dance music and multicolored stage lights. Jade lowered the table’s lantern shade, reducing its bright, yellow glow to a faint glimmer. She wanted her discussion with Hannah to be private.

  The killer called a waitress to her table. “Two blue margaritas,” she told the woman, indicating her choice on a drinks menu. “And pass on a message to the girl who was on stage just now, Lady Cleopatra. She and I are old friends.”

  The waitress gave Jade a strange look, but soon shrugged it off. “If you’re asking for an autograph, talk to the manager. Anything personal you do outside the club.”

  Jade slipped the waitress a hundred dollars. “Let’s keep this between us. Our business is rather… personal. I just want to have a drink with her, then I’ll leave.”

  “Who should I say wants to have a drink?”

  Jade crossed her legs, relaxing on the seat. “Lenora,” she replied. “Miss Davies will know who I am.”

  The waitress accepted Jade’s generous tip, whispered some instructions to another serving girl, and walked backstage. A minute or so later, the woman she’d spoken to delivered two cocktails to Jade’s table. The killer licked the salt from her margarita glass, watching Honolula remove her coat and wiggle her body for the crowd. The woman from Hawaii was attractive and her dancing skills good, but she was hardly in Hannah’s league. The former Cyber Maiden was definitely the star of the show. If Toshigi had hired Hannah as a motion capture model instead of employing her mediocre skills as a character artist, she might have been a valuable member of Jade’s design team. As things stood, she was a failure.

  Hannah exited the dressing room’s side door. She’d changed into casual clothes (in her case, a prom queen dress and cowboy hat), and taken off her Cleopatra wig. The real Hannah wasn’t that different from her stripper alter ego: a buxom mantrap who probably moonlighted as a prostitute on nights she wasn’t performing. Looking round, Hannah spotted Jade in the corner. She walked to the booth clutching her dress, as if modeling it on a Parisian catwalk. Hannah brushed peanut shavings off her seat, sat down, and viewed her face in a hand mirror. After repainting her nails with glittery gold varnish, she finally acknowledged Jade’s presence.

  “What brings you to my club?” Hannah put on an annoying posh accent, phrasing the question as if she owned the place. Perhaps it was a way to convince herself she was someone important. “We were never on the best of terms,” she continued, putting her mirror away. “One assumes this isn’t a social visit. I like your blonde wig. It gives you a certain element of attractiveness. Even so, I understand why you’d prefer to sit in the shade.”

  Jade couldn’t resist shattering the stuck up cow’s ego. “When did you become the expert on beauty? Nice to see you’ve found a new job, Hannah. I don’t imagine too many companies want to recruit a brainless bimbo. Do you enjoy dragging our sex’s reputation through the gutter?”

  Hannah took the insult with a pinch of her margarita’s salt. “Time is a precious commodity,” she said, licking her finger. “I’ve been courteous enough to sit at your table, but if you’re going to insult me, I can have security eject you onto the street. Then you can go back to designing videogames for pocket change. So, I’ll ask you nicely one more time. Why have you come here?”

  “I wanted to say goodbye,” said Jade with a charming smile. “After tonight, I doubt we’ll see each other again.”

  The killer lifted her dress under cover of the table. She’d prepared a cocktail of her own, a healthy dose of household cleaning fluid. Four test tubes were taped to the front of her panties. If security had frisked Jade on the way in, they’d have been reluctant to feel there.

  “Did you hear about Toshigi?” asked Hannah.

  “I was there for the annual meeting,” Jade said. “In fact, I spoke with Toshigi just before he died.”

  “I thought you worked for Digital Dawn Studios these days. Dragonsoft’s arch rivals. I’m surprised you were even on the guest list, considering all the bad blood between you and Toshigi. I was always curious why you never filed the lawsuit.”

  “I wasn’t on the list,” said Jade, avoiding Hannah’s question. “But you know me. I’m a clever girl. I have methods, ways to get what I want.”

  Jade untaped a test tube, concealing it behind her wrist. She rested her elbows on the tabletop, leaned forward, and discretely added the poison to Hannah’s drink. The margarita turned a darker shade of blue as the liquids mixed, but Hannah wouldn’t notice the difference.

  “And what is it that you want from me?” the stripper asked. “This diversion has been really fascinating, but unless there’s something important…”

  “I was hoping you’d humor me. We never had much fun together at Dragonsoft.”

  Hannah yawned, raising her glass. “I might even laugh if I knew the joke.”

  Jade dropped the empty tube in her handbag, and rested her cheeks between her knuckles. “You’re going to play the super heroine, Princess Astra.”

  The killer pulled a plastic tiara from inside her dress, and tossed it on the table. It was a worthless replica she’d bought at a fancy dress store, an artificial silver crown with colored glass in place of real jewels.

  “Sorry Lenora,” Hannah scoffed, “but I don’t play games any more. You’ve got me confused with Iris and Nicole. Try asking one of those losers to be your superhero.”

  An evil smile crossed Jade’s face as she watched Hannah finish her margarita. The stripper slammed her cocktail glass on the table, and clutched her throat, choking on the poisonous bleach.

  Hannah stared at her old friend. “What did you…” she said, staggering to her feet. “Hel… Help… me.”

  Jade swivelled round the booth table, and clamped her hand on Hannah’s shoulder, forcing her back down. “No,” she whispered. “You’re not Princess Astra. How do I know? Well, for one thing, she’s immune to lethal toxins.”

  The killer uncorked a second test tube, and refilled Hannah’s glass with bleach. The intoxicated girl was powerless to act. She looked round desperately for someone to assist her, but the waitresses were all busy serving other tables, and Honolula had the full, undivided attent
ion of every man present.

  “For another thing,” Jade added, “Astra relies on her own abilities to escape precarious situations, instead of ignorant jerks who couldn’t care less. Look at those sex craved maniacs over there, staring at their dream girl while you sit here and choke to death. I guess you’re not so important to them after all. It sounds as if you need to clear your throat. Would you like another drink?”

  Jade slammed Hannah’s head against the table. She tilted it back, squeezed the girl’s nose, and poured the bleach down her throat. Hannah struggled and coughed, but couldn’t prevent herself from swallowing the bulk of the poison.

  Jade raised her dark glasses and looked deep into Hannah’s eyes. “Remember your old friend now?”

  The girl said something, but her words were lost among violent coughs. Jade ripped Hannah’s dress, threw off her cowboy hat, and loosened her bra strap. She placed the tiara around the stripper’s head, and released her shoulder.

  “It was nice seeing you again,” Jade said. “It’s time for your final performance.”

  Hannah dragged herself up, and stumbled towards the dance floor, gasping for air. She wobbled unsteadily from side to side, showing symptoms of dizziness. Her dress and bra fell away, leaving her naked apart from the tiara. Hannah knocked over an empty chair, tripped, and tumbled backwards into a booth. The drunken men around the table laughed and cheered, massaging her body.

  Hannah brushed away their hands, broke free, and climbed onstage. The audience applauded as she fell into a pole, hands clawing at the reflective metal. Only Hannah’s colleagues realized she was in trouble. Waitresses rushed for help while Honolula ran to her dying companion’s side. There was nothing anyone could do. The poison had already entered Hannah’s system. She coughed in sporadic bursts then lay still, blue stained tongue protruding from her mouth.

  The men fell silent. As news of her death spread, Jade left through a fire door at the rear of the club. She heard Honolula scream, and a flurry of activity from The Exotic Pearl’s security staff. The building would be locked down until police arrived, but Jade didn’t plan on being among those detained for questioning. The killer changed back into her biker leathers, and stored the remaining test tubes in her motorcycle pannier. Poison was always handy to have, especially the untraceable household variety.

  ***

  Hannah Davies had been dead less than ten minutes when the press got wind of her murder. Vultures flocked to The Exotic Pearl in droves. The Jade Dragon killings were now the leading national story, and everybody wanted a bite. Radio announcers and news anchors reported live from Broadway, halting traffic in both directions. Some well-connected analysts had already made the connection between Hannah and Dragonsoft. Professional gamers, psychologists, and other unqualified ‘experts’ all wanted to voice their opinion on air.

  “Roll up, roll up,” shouted Lakeysia, driving through the crowd. “The circus is in town.”

  The detective honked her horn, hoping to clear a path. It had the opposite effect, drawing the parasites to her like iron to a magnet. Cameras and microphones were pointed in Lakeysia’s direction. Inquisitive reporters thumped on her car windows, asking a series of stock questions.

  She had difficulty telling the voices apart. “Is Miss Davies’ death connected to Toshigi Tasoto?” one woman asked. Others soon followed her lead.

  “Care to speculate on the killer’s motives? Is it true you believe she’s a woman?”

  “Have you made any progress? What’s your advice for keeping safe?”

  “Is Lenora Knight still the prime focus of your investigation?”

  Lakeysia honked her horn, keeping it pressed until the reporters shut up. She parked her car, got out, and yelled, “Detective Symons, Homicide. Ditto what every other tired, worn out cop says. No comment.”

  She fought her way to the Exotic Pearl, identified herself as a police officer, and entered the club. To her dismay, the interior was just as chaotic as the streets outside. Detectives had their hands full questioning several dozen hostile witnesses. Most clubbers were drunk, high on drugs, and had no desire to cooperate with the police. It took four cops to keep the angry mob away from the dance floor while Matthews and his forensics team took pictures.

  “Who’s the latest casualty?” Lakeysia asked, stepping through the police cordon.

  Matthews studied Hannah’s tongue, collecting bleach residue with a cotton swab. “According to her driver’s license, her name was Hannah Davies, a resident of South Beach. The locals knew her as Lady Cleopatra. She was a dancer here at the club.”

  “You mean a stripper, don’t you doc? Dancing’s what normal girls do, usually with their clothes on. So, how did our Pharaoh queen bite the dust?”

  Matthews held the swab up to the light, rotating it to inspect the soaked cotton. “Cleaning fluid. That’s what the deceased swallowed, a large quantity of domestic bleach. Foul taste. No way she would have digested it unknowingly. My guess, the killer slipped some into her drink, then forced the rest down her throat.”

  “She mustn’t have cared for the local poison too much.”

  Lakeysia took the Cyber Maiden photo from her pocket and compared it to Hannah’s face. “Yep. Miss Davies was a talented games designer in a former life. Now history will remember her as the girl who died at a strip club on Broadway.” She called the precinct on her mobile. “Detective Symons. Put me through to Frances Moore, Homicide.”

  “Care to fill me in?” a male voice boomed from behind. Lieutenant Thorne had arrived to ‘assist’ Lakeysia with her investigation. With all the shouting going on, she hadn’t heard him come in.

  “Lenora’s going after the Cyber Maidens,” Lakeysia said. “This isn’t just about Nicole Tasoto. Her former colleagues are targets too.”

  “That seems to blow your revenge theory out of the water.”

  In his own way, Thorne was asking Lakeysia if she had a credible alternate theory. Before she could think of one Frances responded to her call.

  “What do you need, Detective Symons?” she asked.

  “Frances, I want you to find out the last known address of one Iris Levier.” Lakeysia spelled out the girl’s family name. “Make it snappy. Call me back the moment you got something.” She terminated the call, and joined Thorne by Hannah’s body. “The killer left us a message.”

  Thorne looked to Matthews for an answer. The doctor shook his head, puzzled. “Just this tiara,” the forensics man said. “No notes, coded messages, or anything like that.”

  “She’s through with leaving notes. Now she lets the stiffs do the talking for her.” Seeing blank looks from the two men, Lakeysia continued her psychoanalysis. “We’re not safe at home, at work, or a public place. This lady likes to do her thing in the open, bend the rules. She could have killed this girl in private with nobody watching, but that would be too easy. Burning, electrocution, and now poison. She likes variation, a challenge. This is Lenora’s finale game, her masterpiece.”

  “Where’s Travis?” asked the Lieutenant.

  Lakeysia had a good idea exactly where her partner was and what he was doing, but she covered for him. “Following your instructions to the letter, pressing the Tasoto girl for information. Tried calling his cell, but got no answer. I imagine he was in the middle of something important.”

  A uniformed policewoman escorted a witness to Lakeysia: some big, African guy with a fake gold tooth.

  “Mike,” he introduced himself. “I work at the front door. I spoke to her, the killer.”

  Lakeysia took out her notebook and pen. “Can you describe her?”

  “Green dress. Blonde. Green eyes too I think.” The bouncer frowned in thought. “Five foot nine tall, maybe six. Could have been six one. I don’t recall the details exactly. It was dark, difficult to see too much.”

  “I don’t suppose you remember what size her tits were?” asked Lakeysia, putting her notebook away.

  “Yeah,” the bouncer said with a moronic grin. This guy was so
dumb he thought Lakeysia’s question had been serious.

  “You ever hear the saying that the female’s deadlier than the male?” From the man’s actions Lakeysia doubted he had. “When guys see an attractive girl, all they want to do is get in her pants. Feel her up, go back to her place. They don’t give a shit why she’s chatting up an ugly brute instead of a wealthy banker with tons of money. The thought she might actually be smarter than them never enters their mind. Know why not? Because the moment they lay eyes on her big, juicy melons, all common sense goes flying out the nearest window.”

  Lakeysia nodded to the policewoman who’d brought the witness in. The officer was having a hard time hiding her smile. After she’d escorted the confused man away, Frances called Lakeysia back.

  “I found the address you wanted,” the secretary said. “Miss Levier changed her name after marriage. She’s now known as Iris Vega. Her residence is located at unit three six two, Paradise Grove. It’s an apartment complex on the corner of Ellis and Hyde.”

  “In the Tenderloin district. I’m familiar with the area, a real nice section of town.” Lakeysia headed for the exit. “Send a black and white, but all they do is stake out the place. Nothing else. They spot anything unusual, they stay put and wait for me. No silly heroics. Got that? I don’t want any more keystone corpses.”

  “I’m coming with you, Symons,” said Thorne, chasing after her. “Suppose the stakeout team hear screams from inside. What happens then?”

  “That would be Iris Vega dying, in which case they’re too late to do any good.”

  Chapter Twelve: Officer Down

  Randall’s midnight cruise had turned sour. The attorney left his female guests on the upper deck, and retreated to his private cabin. He ensured the door and porthole were bolted tight. Randall knew all the girls on board from previous engagements, but with Jade on her murder rampage he was taking extra precautions.