The Adventures of Lazarus Gray

by Barry Reese

  Eun Jiwon stood in the doorway of the church, quickly pushing another slender harpoon into a handheld variant of the device so common on whaling vessels. It was one of the group’s many emergency weapons and upon first seeing it, Eun had wondered when they would have ever have cause to use it. Now, he knew. "It’s a good thing Lazarus has friends, huh?" he taunted.

  Gray wasn’t sure whether he should be pleased or angry. "What are you doing here?" he shouted.

  "Ignoring your orders," Eun answered, pointing the weapon back toward The Claw. "Samantha and I figured that you’d need the help so we decided to split up." Eun pulled the trigger and another harpoon shot forth, this one catching The Claw in the throat. It hung there and the monster began to shrink almost immediately, using most of his energy to try and heal his wounds.

  Eun tossed aside the harpoon gun – it was a powerful weapon but the weight of it and the ammunition made it impractical to use for very long. As the young Korean dropped into a fighting stance, The Claw hissed at him in fury.

  Kelly, meanwhile, was using every ounce of strength to yank the shrapnel out of Gray’s belly. The normally placid features of her former lover were now twisted into a mask of pain but he stood up despite the fact he was losing blood at a prodigious rate. "Thank you, Kelly. Now please – get to safety."

  "You’re in no shape for fighting," she began but Gray was already on the move.

  The Claw was struggling to move – the harpoon was now much larger in relation to his shrunken body and it was almost impossible for him to remain upright.

  Lazarus grabbed hold of the point of the harpoon and used it drive The Claw to his knees. "Surrender," he hissed between clenched teeth.

  The Claw turned baleful yellow eyes upon him. "Never."

  Lazarus stared at the God of Hate and felt bile rise up in his throat. He suddenly knew why the monster was here and why innocents had died along the way. "They sent you here, didn’t they? They wanted you to kill me."

  "You frighten them," The Claw whispered. "They hate you with every fiber of their being."

  "Then let’s give them reason to do so." Gray motioned for Eun to come over and take over for him. The young man grabbed hold of the harpoon, twisting it painfully every time The Claw looked like he was starting to resist.

  Gray removed his second handgun and swapped out the clip that it held. Part of his arsenal consisted of explosive shells that looked like ordinary bullets. But they carried enormous power that could blow a hole in an elephant. He held the barrel against The Claw’s head now and his mismatched eyes – one emerald green, the other a dull brown – seemed to shine with an inner fire. "Go back to Hell."

  "This will not be the end of me," The Claw gasped, each word punctuated by a flow of blood from his neck.

  "Let’s test that, shall we?"

  ***

  Several days later, the entire Assistance Unlimited group sat together in one of the expansive meeting rooms of their headquarters. Morgan and Samantha had returned from Paris the night before and the story that Morgan had revealed had left the entire room feeling somewhat despairing.

  "So we’re not just dealing with a worldwide conspiracy… we’re trying to prevent the return of The Old Ones?" Samantha looked pretty in a peach-colored dress but the look on her face was so grave that not even Morgan felt like flirting with her.

  "We already knew it was going to be tough," Eun countered. "This doesn’t change anything."

  "That thing I saw," Morgan whispered, "It was… wrong. I don’t know how else to describe it. I can still see it when I close my eyes, can still hear the noises it made. We have to not just stop them… we have to destroy them."

  "That’s not going to be easy," Eun said. "I was there when Lazarus blew the head off The Claw. And do you know what happened? The thing’s body turned to smoke. He’s not dead. He’s still out there."

  Morgan nodded. "Maybe so. But I killed that little bastard that was in the box. They can die. Maybe we’ve just got to get them so weak first that they can’t perform their magic…."

  Gray cleared his throat and all eyes turned to him. He was dressed in a somber black suit and tie, his handsome face looking as still as the grave. "Morgan got us some useful information while in Paris and our defeat of The Claw will let The Illuminati know that we’re not to be trifled with. We have to consider this a victory."

  "Won’t they just send The Claw back after you? Or somebody even worse?" Samantha asked.

  "In time, yes. But for now I think we’ve given them enough to think about that Sovereign should be free of their influence for the time being." Gray stood up, smoothing down his suit. "And now I’d like to take all of you out to dinner."

  Morgan blinked in surprise. The group often ate together in the dining room but they’d never gone out en masse before. "What’s the occasion, Chief?"

  "As I said, we’ve won some hard-earned victories lately. And I want to show my appreciation to all of you. Though it’s not always easy for me to admit it, we’re more than coworkers. We’re friends."

  Eun cleared his throat, exchanging a glance with Samantha. "Mind if I invite somebody along?"

  "Not at all. I think we’d all like to meet this mystery person you’ve been dating. I imagine he’ll fit right in."

  Eun smiled, relaxing a bit. He instinctively knew that Samantha hadn’t told his secrets: Lazarus simply saw the truth, as he always did. "Thank you."

  Lazarus nodded. "So. Where shall we go?"

  "Italian."

  "A steak house."

  "That deli on 8th Street."

  The group looked around at each other and everyone abruptly began to laugh. It was a good sound, Lazarus decided. He hoped to hear more of it as the days went by.

  THE END

  DARKNESS, SPREADING ITS WINGS OF BLACK

  An Adventure Starring

  Lazarus Gray & The Rook

  Written by Barry Reese

  Chapter I

  Birds of a Feather

  Maurice Chapman opened a small white container and pushed a rubber-gloved finger into the white material it contained. He then smeared the grease under his nose, wincing slightly. He offered the container to the two people who were in the autopsy room with him: the dainty, beautiful Samantha Grace and her employer, the tall and thin Lazarus Gray. "You’ll want some of this," Maurice said when neither of his guests took the container.

  "We’ll be fine," Gray answered, his mismatched eyes focused on the body that was hidden beneath a white sheet. The corpse’s feet extended past the sheet and he could see that her toes had been painted red, probably a week or so before the murder. The paint was chipped in places and in need of a touch-up. The scent of medicinal products and cleansers was almost overwhelming, but it didn’t come close to matching the odor of putrification that arose from the dead body.

  Chapman resisted the urge to press the matter. He was sixty-two years old, born and raised in the cesspool that was Sovereign City. He’d seen burly cops enter his lab and turn away vomiting at the things he showed them. He knew false bravado when he saw it – and neither of these two were displaying it. Lazarus Gray looked like a man who had seen enough death to no longer be disturbed by it. Chapman studied him for a moment, having read about the man in the newspapers but never having met him before. The head of Assistance Unlimited’s hair was more gray than brown, making him look older than he was, though a close examination of his features revealed that he was in his late twenties. He was tall and slender, though with a rangy musculature that indicated he could more than hold himself in a fight.

  The girl was another matter entirely and it was only because Chapman had known the girl during her youth that he knew she was more than she appeared. A stunning blonde whose parents were wealthy philanthropists, Samantha had grown up with every opportunity possible. She could speak five languages fluently, was a champion swimmer, and was a veritable encyclopedia on topics as varied as fashion, European history, and the socio-political climate of the Orient. C
hapman would normally have balked at having a female in his lab, especially when he was about to show off a corpse in this state – but Samantha Grace was no mere slip of a girl, despite how she might look at first glance.

  Chapman set the container aside and pulled the sheet away, revealing a body that had been horribly mutilated. The nude form was neatly bisected at the waist and the face had been slashed from the corners of the mouth to the ears, giving her a macabre parody of a smile. The dead woman’s black hair was matted and still bore traces of leaves and insect casings. Her body was that of a fit young woman and was admirably formed, but the unhealthy condition of the body was consistent with being exposed to the elements for several days before discovery.

  "The victim was 24 years of age," Chapman began. "Her body was found in a vacant lot on the west side of South Page Avenue midway between West 42nd Street and Robeson Avenue."

  Samantha exchanged a quick glance with Lazarus. "That’s not far from our headquarters." She was obviously troubled to think that a woman could have been brutally assaulted so close to where she and her friends slept every night.

  Gray nodded silently, urging Chapman to continue with a quick motion of his hand.

  "The body was discovered by a local resident named Betty King who was walking with her four year old son earlier this morning. If you’ll notice, the wounds are very clean. They were done with surgical instruments and the body was drained of blood. There are signs that the corpse was washed, probably in an attempt to remove traces of evidence. Furthermore, the body was posed with the left arm draped across the breasts and the right hand covering the pubis region."

  "As if she were covering her nudity," Samantha observed and Chapman murmured an agreement. "So she wasn’t killed at the scene? Someone dumped her there?"

  Chapman spread his hands. "I’m no detective but in my opinion, that would be the case."

  "Who was she?" Lazarus asked. Chapman found himself staring at the man’s eyes: one was a dull brown and the other a glittering emerald.

  "Her name was Claudia Schuller. A packet was sewn to the skin between her shoulder blades and it contained the items you see over there." Chapman gestured toward a nearby table upon which a number of papers had been arranged.

  Gray moved toward them, slowly touching each one. Claudia’s birth certificate was the first thing he lifted, but he also brushed his fingers across business cards, photographs, names written on pieces of paper, and an address book with the name Max Davies embossed on the cover.

  "Has anyone contacted Mr. Davies?"

  "Of course we have. We don’t just sit around waiting on you to solve all the crimes for us."

  Lazarus turned his head to see that Inspector Cord of the Sovereign PD had entered the room. He was a whippet-thin man who had one eye that seemed to be perpetually narrowed. His disdain for Assistance Unlimited – and its founder, in particular – was well known. "Inspector. Just the man I was hoping to see."

  "I doubt that." Cord reached up and removed his hat, bowing slightly to Samantha. "Afternoon, Miss."

  Samantha gave him a cool smile in reply.

  "You were saying that your men had contacted Mr. Davies?" Lazarus prompted.

  "Oh, yes." Cord took out a cigarette and lit it, though he knew that Gray hated the smell. He moved closer to Gray, blowing out a long cloud of smoke that enveloped the taller man. "He’s here in Sovereign, on business he says. Apparently, his father – Warren Davies, now dead – was a newspaperman back in Boston. One of the papers he owned at one time was The Sovereign Gazette. The younger Davies still has some stock in the paper, though he’s a minority holder. Says he met Miss Schuller for the first time about a week ago at a dinner party thrown by the Gazette’s current majority owner, Theodore Groseclose. Supposedly, they went out together for drinks two nights later and that was the last time he saw her. Coincidentally, it’s the last time anybody’s reported seeing her."

  Samantha looked at Chapman. "How long ago did she die?"

  "I’d estimate it was about five days ago, given the rate of decomposition."

  Lazarus knew what his aide was getting at and so did Inspector Cord. Five days ago would have been the same night she’d had dinner with Max Davies. "Where is Mr. Davies now?" Gray asked, confident he already knew the answer.

  "He’s coming in for questioning right now. I think we’ve got him dead to rights." Cord took a long drag on his cigarette, a look of confidence on his face. "Last man seen with her and there’s his address book right there."

  "Then who sewed this packet onto her back?" Gray asked, his words carefully neutral but his eyes betraying his dislike for the other man.

  "What do you mean? He did, of course. Davies."

  "Why would he include his own address book? And these business cards: Robert Phillips, Chairman of the city’s Building Association; Merle Hansome, Attorney; Theodore Groseclose… all of them should be questioned but I don’t think any of them are the killer." Lazarus looked back at the corpse of Claudia Schuller. He tried to imagine her in life, young and beautiful. It was difficult with her reduced to a bisected piece of meat. "Whoever did this horrible act wanted us to know these men’s names. The question is: why?"

  Cord looked like he’d bitten into something sour. "You’re over thinking things, Gray. In order to kill like this, a man has to be insane. Once you establish that, none of his actions should be taken as a surprise. I’ve seen killers throw themselves into our grasp, explaining every gruesome detail of their acts. That’s probably what happened here. Davies wants to be caught." Cord lowered his voice, doing a stage whisper that was easily overheard by Samantha. "Besides, this isn’t the first time that Davies has come to the attention of the law."

  Gray looked at him steadily, waiting for Cord to continue. When it became obvious that Gray wasn’t going to say anything, Cord took several more puffs on his cigarette before uttering a sigh.

  "Back in Boston, there were accusations that he might be related to a murderous vigilante known as The Rook. Nothing could ever be proven but get this: he’s put his home up for sale. Rumor has it he’s planning to head out west or maybe down south. Why would an innocent man flee the town he’d grown up in? Maybe because he’s not so innocent?"

  Gray turned away from Cord and caught Samantha’s eye. Without a word to Cord and just a brief thanks to Chapman, the duo exited the room.

  "Where to, Chief?" Samantha asked, the clicking of her heels on the tiled floor seeming very loud. Gray noticed she was wearing a new scent today and he found the perfume to be quite pleasing. He wasn’t blind to her interest in him but for many reasons, he didn’t think it wise to encourage it.

  "We’re going to speak to Max Davies."

  Samantha smiled softly. "You’re planning to get to him before Cord does, aren’t you?"

  A rare grin seemed to dance upon Gray’s lips, but it vanished so quickly that Samantha wasn’t sure if she had actually seen it. "No sense in allowing the Inspector to ruin a perfectly good investigation."

  ***

  Max Davies was thirty-five years old, though he could have passed for a man ten years younger. He was stunningly handsome with wavy black hair and a slightly Olive complexion, which made Samantha think that he had Mediterranean ancestry. He wore a black suit, white shirt and red tie, looking like he’d stepped off the cover of a European fashion magazine.

  Having booked the penthouse at Sovereign City’s most expensive hotel, Davies was reclining in relative luxury when Lazarus and Samantha arrived to speak with him. The room looked barely lived in, despite the fact he’d been staying there for over a week.

  Davies was sitting now, his legs crossed before him. He held a small glass of scotch in one hand though Gray was positive the man was merely swirling it about in his glass for effect. Twice he’d brought it to his lips without actually taking a sip.

  "You two just caught me," Davies was saying, gesturing for both of his guests to take a seat. "I was just walking out the door."

  "We ap
preciate you taking the time to speak to us," Samantha said, smoothing her skirt over her long legs. She noticed that Max’s eyes dipped down to watch the gesture and she smiled. Though she was the equal of any man when it came to a fight, she wasn’t above using her beauty to her advantage. After all, it was one more weapon in her arsenal.

  "How could I refuse an invitation from someone so attractive?" Max smoothly replied. With a twinkle in his eye, he added, "And might I say, Miss Grace, that you’re quite a looker as well."

  Samantha stared at him for a moment before the joke hit her. She looked over at Lazarus and saw that he wasn’t quite as charmed as she was.

  "Mr. Davies, perhaps you don’t understand the severity of this situation," Lazarus said, his voice betraying absolutely no emotion. "You’re the last person known to have seen Claudia Schuller alive. And an address book bearing your name was found on her person."

  "Along with the business cards of other men, isn’t that right?"

  "How did you know that?" Lazarus asked, his eyes narrowing.

  "Inspector Cord told me when he phoned earlier."

  Samantha could see Lazarus visibly composing himself. He didn’t care much for Cord’s methods, which bordered on the incompetent at times. "You’re still considered the prime suspect. Could you tell us the nature of your relationship with Miss Schuller?"

  "She was at a party I attended. Apparently, she works in the newspaper secretarial pool. She was alone at the soiree and so was I. We struck up a conversation and I invited her to have dinner with me. She agreed to do and a couple of nights later, we went out and ate at O’Malley’s. Afterward, we came back here."