The Adventures of Lazarus Gray

by Barry Reese

  Gray straightened and gave his opponent a polite bow. "Excellent work, Eun."

  The Korean stared at him in disbelief. Though he was far younger than Gray, he was panting and covered in sweat while the older man looked fresh as a daisy. Eun gingerly walked over to pluck up a towel and was using it to wipe off his brow when Samantha handed over the papers to Gray.

  "This came in the mail this morning, Chief. No return address. I took Latin in school but I can’t really make heads or tails of this."

  Lazarus studied the pages very carefully, his eyes raking over the words. "Everyone needs to come together in the briefing room. Immediately."

  The tone in his voice brooked no further discussion. Samantha whirled at once, heading off to fetch Morgan. Eun, meanwhile, set the automatic recording devices that answered the phones when the team was busy. Within moments, all four members of Assistance Unlimited were gathered around a sturdy oak table.

  Gray sat at the head of the table, the papers arranged in two rows of four in front of him. He was dressed in black slacks and a white shirt today, the sleeves of which were rolled up to the midpoint of his forearms. It was a fairly casual look for Gray but even so his ever-present tie was in place. "We have an interesting case before us," Gray said at last. "These pages are extracted from a tome known as the Codex Gigas."

  Morgan leaned forward. "How do you know that?"

  "The content of the pages leads me to that conclusion but it’s borne out by the size of the sheets themselves. The Codex Gigas is the largest extant medieval manuscript in the world. It weighs over 160 pounds and has measurements of 36 inches in height, nearly 20 inches in width and over 8 inches in thickness."

  Morgan glanced over at Eun, who gave a shrug of his shoulders. None of them were surprised that their leader would be able to quote such figures off the top of his head, but it was impressive nonetheless. Despite the fact that his own past was a mystery to him, Gray’s head was filled with data about subjects both famous and obscure. "Okay. So it’s an old book. What’s it about?"

  Gray picked up on one of the pages and studied it. "The tome contains the Vulgate Bible, as well as many historical documents. The entire thing is written in Latin and legend has it that Herman the Recluse compiled it in the Benedictine monastery of Podlazice near Chrudim. It’s drifted from hand to hand since then but was seized in 1648 as plunder by the Swedish army. The rest of the book is currently part of the National Library of Sweden. People have known for years that there were eight missing pages and these appear to be them."

  "Are we going to contact the Swedes, then?" Eun asked.

  "No. Not yet. You see, there is a bit more to the story. There is a legend attached to it and these pages may shed some further illumination upon that. I daresay the secrets contained here are worth dying for."

  Morgan sat back and grinned. "Well don’t keep us in suspense, Chief. Spin the yarn for us."

  Gray stood up, clasping his hands behind his back as he began to pace slowly back and forth. His voice remained low and even but all of his aides found themselves leaning forward as he talked, drawn in by the tale he was weaving. "The story goes that Herman the Recluse broke his monastic vows and was sentenced to be walled up alive in the monastery."

  "Must have been some nasty business he took part in," Morgan muttered, drawing a stern frown from Samantha.

  Gray continued as if he hadn’t heard Morgan’s interruption. "In order to avoid this fate, the monk promised that he would create a book that would contain all the knowledge of man. The other monks, hungry to see his fall from grace, demanded that he do this in a single night. Having no other choice, he agreed and began to work. At some point in the night, he gave in to despair, knowing that he would never have a hope of succeeding. And so he turned to the one being who might help him: the Devil himself. Satan claimed the monk’s soul and completed the book for him, going so far as to insert a self-portrait on page 577. The image is a horrific depiction of the Devil and all those who gaze upon it feel a shiver go down their spines. It’s like staring into the abyss. Modern scholars who have studied the manuscript are adamant that a single hand wrote it all, with no discrepancy due to age, sickness or simply the passage of time. It’s estimated that it would have taken twenty years or more for a single person to create such a work."

  "So the work isn’t cursed?" Samantha asked. "I can’t believe Satan would create something like that and not have it be something incredibly evil."

  Gray looked at her. "In addition to all the histories included in the tome, there are also magical spells. These are mostly exorcisms but it’s been rumored for centuries that the missing eight pages contained spells of summoning, rituals that would allow mortal men to summon entities of great power and bind them."

  "And do they? Eun wondered aloud. He reached for one of the pages and held it up before his eyes. The writing looked like gibberish to him but he couldn’t deny that there was a tingling sensation in his fingertips whenever they made contact with the paper.

  "Yes. They do."

  Morgan exhaled loudly and when everyone turned to look at him, he shrugged. "I just don’t see what the big deal is. So we found some old papers that have magic spells written on them. So what? We’re not actually going to act like we believe in this stuff, are we?"

  "What about the Scanlon case?" Samantha reminded him. "Mr. Scanlon comes to us and hires us to track down Wilma Nero, who happens to have an alien creature living behind her eyes? And I run into a man who turns his walking stick into a lion, right in front of me? Who’s to say what’s real and what’s not? Besides, it’s obvious the Chief believes in it and that’s good enough for me."

  "Thank you, Samantha." Gray took back the page that Eun had been holding. He took all eight pages and put them back into order. "I have every reason to believe that these pages have been used to summon a demonic entity. Unfortunately, without these pages, whomever has done so is in a world of trouble. The spells that are used to bind the demon must be performed on a regular basis or else the hold begins to weaken. Likewise, the demon cannot be banished without the words on these pages."

  Morgan tapped his chin thoughtfully. "So somebody sent us these pages to screw somebody else over?"

  "Possibly. Or they may have wanted us to use the spells contained on these pages to banish the demon in question."

  "But where do we go from here? We don’t know who sent the pages or who might have summoned these things, assuming that they have." Morgan stood up. "Looks to me like we’re at a dead end."

  "Not necessarily. There are actually two clues here and they both bear investigating. Firstly, the envelope itself is oversized to accommodate the size of the papers." Gray lifted up the envelope and turned it so that the backside of it was facing his aides. "Look closely at the bottom here. You’ll note that someone recently wrote some numbers down. The imprint went through the paper that was used and onto the envelope. It’s a local phone number. I took the liberty of checking with the operator before this meeting began. It’s the phone number of an importer named Malcolm Goodwill. I’d like for Samantha and Eun to pay him a visit."

  "Will do, Chief," Eun piped up. "Should we tell him why we’re there?"

  "No. Go under the pretense of wanting to buy some something that would remind you of home. Given your ethnic background, it won’t surprise him that you’d be looking for hard-to-find items that the usual stores here wouldn’t stock. He runs his business from his home so you may also get the opportunity to learn about his personal life."

  Morgan began to grin. "And what about you and me, Chief? What angle are we taking?"

  "We’re going to visit a man named Harry Nance."

  "Nance? I know him. Small-time numbers runner. A real small fish in the big Sovereign pond."

  "He might be a bigger fish than you think." Gray tapped the papers. "Because he’s the man who sent us this envelope."

  Chapter II

  The Black Heart of Malcolm Goodwill

  Harry Nance
’s apartment was never particularly well kept but now it looked like a tornado had descended upon it. The mattress had been ripped off the bed and sliced apart while every drawer and cabinet had been opened and rifled through.

  The black-clad ninja had finally admitted defeat and Goodwill had banished them back to his home. He remained behind, however, sitting on Harry’s couch, in the middle of the mess. He’d hoped that something would occur to him, some clue as to where Harry might have stashed the pages.

  A chill took hold of the room as the temperature dropped some twenty degrees in the space of mere seconds. Goodwill glanced down to see that his breath was now visible, emerging from his mouth in tiny clouds of carbon dioxide. Goodwill took out a cigar and lit it, using the expensive smoke as a calming influence.

  A humanoid figure took shape beside him. The smell of cinnamon filled Goodwill’s nostrils, overwhelming even the acrid odor of his cigar. He kept his eyes straight ahead, however, refusing to turn and look at her.

  "Do you have something for me to do?" a feminine voice said and Goodwill felt his resolve weakening. When he’d summoned this demon, he’d expected almost anything besides what he’d gotten. A female with a seductive voice and a body to kill for… but a face that was so horrid that even one glance meant that you’d forever see it when you closed your eyes at night. Her name was Sazar and she was a blood demon, one who relished sex and death in equal amounts. "I grow tired of walking invisibly at your side."

  "It’s what I want of you. If people see you, it’s going to cause problems."

  A soft foot began to rub against his leg. "Don’t you like me, Malcolm?"

  "Of course I do. But now isn’t the time." Goodwill stood up, taking a long drag on his cigar.

  "I need to eat," the demon said petulantly. "I haven’t killed in days. Why didn’t you let me sup on Harry Nance? You wasted all that blood."

  Goodwill didn’t answer at first. He had kept her at bay because he’d sensed his hold on her was slipping. He needed the stolen pages from the Codex Gigas to renew his power. Without it, she could easily slip her bonds and turn on him. He wondered if she could tell that her leash was growing ever longer. "I’ll let you feast this evening," he said. "Now be gone!"

  Sazar rose from the couch and rubbed his shoulders. He could smell her soft skin and a part of him yearned to take her. But the thought of her face was too much for him and slowed the rush of blood that she always brought on. "There are other things I hunger for as well. Can you promise to satisfy those desires as well?" she teased.

  "Of course. With relish." Goodwill reached up to squeeze her hand. A knock at the door made him pause and he quietly hissed. "Vanish. Now."

  Sazar withdrew her hands but he could hear the challenge in her voice. "One of these days you’ll recognize my power, Malcolm. I’m not your toy."

  Goodwill ignored her, walking toward the door and peering through the peephole. A skinny young brunette was standing there, wearing a threadbare green dress. Her hair was soaked from the morning rain.

  "Harry? You in there?" she asked. She knocked again. "Let me in if you are. I’m drenched to the bone."

  A girlfriend, Goodwill mused. There was always the chance she might know something. He’d have to silence her afterward, though. He couldn’t run the risk of her talking to the cops or telling anyone about the things he’d be quizzing her over. He cast one glance over his shouler to make sure that Sazar was invisible and then he opened the door, reaching out quickly to grab the girl and yank her inside. "Come in, my dear."

  "Who are you?" she asked, staring at the ruined apartment in shock.

  "I could ask the same of you."

  "My name’s Doris. I’m Harry’s girlfriend."

  "Then I’m sorry for your loss."

  "What are you talking about? Where’s Harry?"

  "My name is Malcolm Goodwill. Harry might have mentioned me. I’m his employer. Or was, to be precise."

  "Why do you keep talking like that?" Doris suddenly put a hand over her mouth. "Has something happened to Harry?"

  "He’s dead. I’d imagine if it were not already in the papers, it will be soon. He was cut up last night. Had more holes in him than a hunk of Swiss cheese."

  "Oh my god." Doris looked as if she was about to cry but Goodwill tossed her onto the couch and her head seemed to clear. She looked around at the apartment, noticing how it had been rifled through. "What’s going on here?" she asked.

  "Your boyfriend stole something from me. Eight pages from a very old book. I want them back. Do you know anything about them?"

  "Harry wasn’t much for reading," Doris said, shaking he head. "I don’t know anything about… Oh." A strange expression passed over the girl’s face and Goodwill knew that she had just remembered something.

  "Tell me!" he demanded, raising a hand as if to strike her.

  Doris flinched and began to speak rapidly. "He said something about having seen somethin’ that he shouldn’t have. Said that he was gonna do somethin’ about it! That it was time to be a man. But he didn’t tell me any details! I swear it!"

  "But you knew enough to know it had to do with my papers."

  "Yeah. When he was telling me about it, I saw some old papers on his table. He’d bought a big envelope to put them in."

  Goodwill narrowed his eyes. "Was he going to mail them to someone?"

  "I don’t know. Honest!"

  Goodwill turned away, seething internally. Had he misjudged Harry? Had the man not been so stupid as to hold onto the papers himself? He glanced back at Doris, catching her as she stared longingly at the door. She was going to either make a break for it or begin screaming soon. "Sazar," he said and Doris looked at him in confusion. "Feed."

  The spectral form of a nude woman became visible at his side. Even Doris, as heterosexual as any girl could be, was forced to silently acknowledge the loveliness of Sazar’s form. But then Doris let her eyes travel up the long neck and settle on the horrific visage that was Sazar’s face. A scream died in her throat and Doris drew back as Sazar lunged for her.

  Goodwill watched for a moment or two before looking out the window. The sounds of Sazar lapping at the girl’s spilling blood were nauseating.

  Down below, he saw a black sedan pull to a halt in front of the building and two men emerge. One of them was very familiar to Goodwill, as he was to almost any citizen of Sovereign: Lazarus Gray, whose grim features were regularly depicted in newspaper photographs. As leader of Assistance Unlimited, Gray was a constant thorn in the side of the underworld.

  Goodwill waited until Gray and Morgan had entered the building and then he yanked opened the window. The fire escape lay below and he nimbly swung his legs down onto it. The metal structure was slick from the morning rain but Goodwill held his balance well. Looking back into Harry’s apartment, he said, "Sazar, there’s two men coming up. When they get here, please take care of them and then come back to the house. Understood?"

  Sazar looked up at him and grinned. Blood dripped from her chin in copious amounts and she allowed one hand to paw at the dead girl’s breast. Feeding always stirred her passions to dangerous levels. "I’ll devour their hearts," she swore.

  Goodwill said nothing, descending the fire escape in silence. The arrival of Gray might be nothing more than coincidence but he didn’t really believe in chance. If Gray was here… and Harry had planned to send the pages to someone… then it all added together that he might have sent them to Assistance Unlimited. Everybody knew the group was housed on Robeson Avenue and Goodwill suddenly realized that if Gray were here, then the place might be abandoned for the moment.

  Grinning, Goodwill moved to his car and slid behind the wheel. Perhaps, he mused, things might work out after all.

  ***

  "So tell me again how you know it was Harry who sent us the papers?"

  Lazarus Gray took the steps two at a time, forcing Morgan to hurry in his attempt to keep up. Morgan was a slender and fairly athletic man but he was in his forties and had enjo
yed life to the fullest. His words were punctuated by gasps between nearly every word.

  "I took the liberty of calling Sovereign Office Supply. Envelopes of that size aren’t particularly common. They remembered a man coming in a few days ago, wanting to purchase a single envelope. Most of the time, buyers purchase them in packs of 5-10. The man’s name was Harry Nance. The manager of Sovereign Office Supply knew him because Nance’s girlfriend worked at the diner next door."

  "And now we’re gonna see if we can get him to talk?"

  "I’m afraid it won’t be that easy." Gray reached into one of his pants pockets and pulled out the morning paper, which was rolled up. "I grabbed this on the way out of the office. Notice anything on the front page?"

  Morgan slowed to a stop, grateful to have the opportunity to catch his breath. He saw only a few items of interest: The Monster, one of the leaders in the Sovereign underworld scene, was still Public Enemy Number One according to the police chief and an unidentified man was found hacked to death in the early hours of the morning. "I don’t get it," he admitted at last.

  "I’m fairly certain that the dead man is Harry Nance." Morgan looked at his employer expectantly and Gray continued, "The murder took place down the block from a mail box. The postal stamp on the envelope shows that it was picked up at mail box # 5, which coincides with that street. I reason that he was murdered immediately after placing the envelope in the mail chute."

  The two men resumed their trek upstairs, not taking much interest in the dingy surroundings. Harry had lived in one of the more squalid areas of town and the building stank of mildew and rat droppings. It was a far cry from the relative opulence of the Assistance Unlimited headquarters and reminded Morgan that it wasn’t so long ago that he was much like Harry Nance: a man down on his luck with no obvious prospects. A chance encounter with Lazarus Gray had caused him to reevaluate his position in life and he’d soon traded a life of crime for one of decency and hard work.