"Mind your own damned business, okay."
"Hey, no need to get hostile with me. We’re friends remember?"
"Shit. I'm sorry," the Mohawk picked up his Jamieson whiskey and downed it in a single swallow. "What the hell are you doing here anyway?"
"I was looking for you. I need your help. I've got some gold I need melted into rings and some talismans to be engraved onto them. I know you know alchemy. I need your help John. It's for all of us. It's for tomorrow. I might have found us some back up that might actually make a difference but I'm going to need your help for most of it I think. You’re the magician; I'm just a fucking serial killer. I can get the sacrifices-"
"Whoa; hold your horses. Sacrifices? What the hell we talking here?"
"Some serious magick John. With a mother fucking K!"
"Ha, a mother fucking K is it. Well then. I suppose we'd better go back to mine."
"You mean you actually have your own place?"
"Where the hell you think I lived before I met Faith? The fucking bus terminal?"
John's building was old. Candy figured it had been here since America had started using stone to build their apartments. It was a two-story affair, and John said he lived at the top. The curtain so far as Candy could see was just an orange sheet and there was a light in the background which must have been running for fuck knew how long with no one to see the shine, except perhaps a curious passerby.
The stair door opened with a long bronze key, and they climbed the twelve or so steps to the top. John's door was on the right at the top of the landing. He fumbled in his pocket for another set of keys and set about unlocking four separate locks. His door was new though, wooden, tough, with a varnished shine to it. He opened the door and Candy stepped through.
The hallway was wooded, old oak by the look of it, and had not been sanded down to a smooth finish although she could see no protruding splinters jagging out from anywhere. Down one side of the wall a variety of tables all covered with white cloths that hung down to the floor. On the first table was an atlas, on the second a collection of skulls. Candy could tell by the look of them that they were human, On the next was a collection of coins dating back over three hundred years, all in glass cases. Some held American coins, some held Mexican, some Spanish, Some Brazilian, Some Portuguese and some Candy could not recognise although she could tell the British notes by the name of the Bank of England on them. Only some cases held notes and she wondered how much all this would sell for if John chose too. He was always borrowing money for a bottle, but Candy now realised that some things were too precious to trade for an addiction. John clearly loved these things. She knew that had this been in the hands of a good few of the junkies out there it would be gone by now, pawned, or sold at auction if they had the brains to do so.
On the last table sat a photograph. It was in black and white and the woman in it was one of the most beautiful women Candy had ever seen. Written in the bottom corner was the words - To John, may our love last forever, Jessie xxx - and she noticed John's eyes pass over this with a queer fondness when he passed.
"This way then," the Native American directed.
This was his living room but it looked more like a mixture of a biology and spirituality all-in-one laboratory. Various charts hung on the walls. One was of the human body and as you flipped through the pages you got closer and closer inside until you came to the cells, then the atomic structure. Beside it was a list of the conscious states of mind and brain in correspondence with each body area, for example there was a whole chapter on the cellular states of mind and the atomic states of mind. However it marked these as being the beginning of the mystical states which were noted on a chart with exactly 100 pages. Candy studied these intently although she never made it past page two, which had started to explain the Chakras and some other notes made in blue ink with a tidy hand about something called fault lines. Candy had got to a point about the throat Chakra and how a blue light may be opened from the base of the pineal and this would enable telepathy but it would be explained in page 39 – vii x, and before she could read any further John interrupted her reading session with a meaningful clearing of the throat.
"I trust you brought the materials?"
Candy walked toward a table where stood a deep pot made of a metal Candy could not place, and emptied all the gold rings and wedding rings and chains and watches and bracelets inside.
Contained in the pile there must have been about two hundred thousand dollars worth of gold; as well as just gold there too was diamonds and emeralds and rubies and a variety of others.
"Well, guess I do this for you if I get to keep the stones? It's for my drinks cabinet collection ha-ha."
"You just do what's necessary. The balance belongs to all the riders. Think about it John, Marcus and Faith about to have a baby, they’re going to want their Uncle John staying with them or at least close. I'm thinking this could go far enough to get us a secure property, away from the world. Maybe in another country, John, maybe we can all go together, I could get a fake passport, we could be like a family, buy a big house, Brekin and I could live in one wing, Faith and Marc in the other and you could have your own bachelor pad somewhere in the house, you know, until you find; a woman."
John smiled. It was the first time he had ever heard Candy speak positively about the future, her future and he nodded his head in agreement. Maybe it would even happen. Anything was possible. "That's good to dream like that Candy, girl, good to get up some hope as hope keeps you strong, there always bad times, but there gonna be good ones and you know and hope for them. But for now we got to take out all these jewels and melt down all this gold.” John pulled open a drawer which contained a small set of scalpel like instruments, they were all shapes and sizes, all three of the same type. John gave Candy one equal to his own. It was the smallest there was. "We start on the small stones first. Just prize them out, like this, here."
And he put the tip of the blade under a small diamond and wiggled and sure enough the diamond popped out and onto the table. "Shit. Better not forget the cloth."
He went back into the drawer and pulled out a long roll of thick yet smooth green cloth and spread it on the table. He put the diamond into onto the cloth.
"Well, what you waiting for," the Mohawk said, "let's get busy with it."
Three hours later and they had nearly all the stones on the roll of green cloth. The radio was playing in the background, John had managed to find a station that played psychedelic sixties and Candy had been smoking dope all day long with the occasional hit of crack. She had given John two Diamonds to take to a pawn shop, two big ones and he had returned with a little over eleven thousand dollars and she had taken a taxi close to a building and a dealer called Sammy she had come across, without knowing it was he who had gotten Wanda on smack and he who had been supplying the white rocks whilst Candy had been incarcerated. He had tried to put the moves on Candy, but her knife had been at his throat quicker than he could say, "let's get naked and fu-".
After that he had be as quick as possible to serve Candy and gave her an extra couple of extra points of a gram on her fifty rocks and on her hundred ones too. She had stopped at the super market, asking the driver of the blue private hire cab to stop at and all night convenience store where she picked up a litre of vodka, a litre of bourbon, a litre of gin, and a four pack of 2 litre bottles of cola, then got the driver to drop her off three blocks from Johns, where she walked back to his top floor apartment. She opened the front door no problem but got the front door stuck with all its various locks and had to try all the different keys in all the different locks. Finally she walked through the door, down the hallway, passing It's various collective items, yet instead of melting down the gold as she thought he would he was listing intently to a news broadcast on a state of the art television she hadn't noticed before, and which now looked seriously out of place.
On the T.V was the jewellery store she had robbed with the sight of her victims being filmed, befo
re a hand was shut over the lens of the camera and the picture started to going wonky, as if someone was wrestling the video camera from whomever was recording the scene.
Finally it returned back to the reporter - "So we see here the gristly murders of whom? The police are we have been told checking the security cameras and will be holding a press conference in . . . When did you say Detective, Uh-?"
Detective Marks came on screen and Candy recognised him straight off, although he had aged slightly, as much as two years will allow. The detective faced the camera and tried to look Candy thought, like Malone would have in this situation. But Malone was dead, had poked his nose into things he should not have, despite Candy's warnings.
So they were going to see her on tape. Would they recognise her? It mattered little to her. There had been no news of her escape on the television so far, so maybe the cops were keeping it silent, so as not to arouse her suspicions. On the other hand, maybe this was the time they had been waiting for to drop the bomb that a known serial killer had escaped from the local asylum. It must have been an embarrassment to someone in the police department that a highly dangerous woman had so easily escaped from a secure unit. Candy hoped that they wouldn't alert the public until her date tonight.
"You think they gonna I.D you?" asked John.
"I'm not really sure. I don't think my DNA is gonna be on anywhere and I was wearing gloves so they won't have my prints. Thanks to Faith junior I look nothing like I used to... still, who know, huh? Let’s not worry about that now. You've got some talismans to make and I've got a date. You got another bedroom?"
John nodded.
"Then try and get some plastic sheeting or cotton ones at the very least as I think this may get messy."
"It always messy with you kid. Go enjoy your date with the poor mother fucking book man. Order lobster. That the test to see what kind of man he is."
"I actually hate lobster. I'll be eating the steak, if anything."
"Whatever. See you."
"Yeah, be seeing you. You got the pages; I underlined all the engravings we need on each ring. You manage to pick up the rest of the stuff necessary?"
"All except the human blood, but you got that under control."
David was sitting at the bar sipping a beer looking nervous when Candy arrived. She bet it was a light beer. Any more than that and he might become too inhibited and use a curse word or something equally sinful. She had pegged him for a Christian the first drink. She had to be sure so she had slipped her hand under his shirt with the pretence of rubbing it and sure enough there was the crucifix. She had almost shouted in her joy. One of the rituals demanded the blood of a follower of Christ. And David was just that. She walked across the bar, turning a few heads as she did so of the grey and black suited office workers who had stopped by hoping to sink a few and get talking to some women, that later they could fuck for as long as possible then turf out and never call again. This is what was passing through Candy's head as she saw them staring at her and whilst she found herself not wanting to generalize she could sense the buzzing in their heads, their subconscious desires and the hunger in their hearts. Still it mattered little as she now had Derrick – shit no wait, it was David the librarian to buy her drinks and dinner. She would eat nothing of course, the ritual demanded it. She would claim not to be very hungry and when David wasn't looking she would stick the Greek salad into a napkin and take it to the bathroom where she would deposit its contents in one of the cubicle stall toilets.
She walked straight up to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Hey there stranger. Thought I was going to stand you up?"
"Well, you are ten minutes late, and I thought, you know what with you being so beautiful and all and me being, well, me, that-"
"Don’t be daft. I ain't the kind of girl to leave a man waiting. And you're all man, if you know what I mean?"
"Well. . . I . . . I'm not sure that that's true-"
Candy silenced him by placing her hand over his mouth. She felt his tongue brush her palm and felt repulsion. He expected to stick that in her mouth later, and maybe other places. Boy, did this ass-hole not know what the hell he was getting himself into.
They ate dinner in near silence. Well that is David ate his dinner. When he excused him to the men's room Candy pushed the minute portion of salad into a brown paper sack she had brought along for the occasion and when he returned he made a comment on how her appetite sure had improved since he'd been away and he was glad to see her eating as a skinny girl like her could just fade away. She smiled politely and made for the ladies. Whilst inside she saw a dustbin, with a swing top, a silvery metal affair which she dropped the salad into and then returned to find David, ordering another round of drinks.
She had been drinking cokes all night, yet he had moved on from light beer (she had been right) to double whiskey and soda's, no doubt some attempt at Dutch courage. By the end of his second drink he was slurring his words and Candy ordered him another whilst he went to take a piss.
In this glass she tapped a small drop of liquid LSD along with a 40mls of Lorazepam which she had found in liquid form in Faith's drug cabinet. The sedative would make sure the trip didn't come on too strong, not until they were back at Johns. David would feel fucking amazing. It was she thought the least she could do. The acid was essential as she knew David didn't believe in Magic and she would need him in a state of belief which the acid would provide. During the ritual he was to be as free to scream and express his fear as much as possible as this would only make the chances of it becoming more successful.
He ordered the bill but Candy threw a hundred on the table and before he could argue she had led him by the arm and out into the cool darkness of then night air.
"I feel kinda funny. Like in a good way, like I'm kinda, you know- Jeez, even I don't know," the librarian giggled.
"Do you feel like walking or do you want to take a cab? I live about ten blocks from here. It's entirely up to you. Maybe a cab would be best if you're feeling funny, you know what I'm saying tiger. You sure did pack a few down you in there," said Candy with tones of easy manipulation.
"Yeah, alright, a taxi sounds good. So what's on the menu tonight? You gonna put out for this old man?
"You bet ya! You can even do me in the ass. You ever done that? Fucked a woman in the ass-hole?"
"Jeez, are you for real? No, I ain't ever done anything like that before. I had a wife once but we only made love a few times in our short marriage. You might say I'm something of a beginner."
"What about fuck me in the mouth, or put me over your knee and give me a good spanking until my ass goes red. How does that strike you?"
"Oh Jeez. Oh-"
He was cut off as a taxi passed and Candy whistled for it and it drew to the side of the road. She opened the door and ushered him inside and she gave the address for three blocks away from Johns. She didn't want him to be identifiable and she pushed David onto her lap so his face wasn't visible to the taxi driver who sometimes gave furtive glances in their directions.
After the third or so time, Candy had gotten sick of his watchful eyes and shouted across to him, "Will you please keep your eyes on the road? My friend here is sick and I'm taking him home and I don't like being stared at when I feel alone and unprotected in a taxi cab. I've read about the murders recently and I don't like the way you're looking me up and down!”
"Hey lady, I'm sorry, I was only making sure your friend there wasn't gonna sick up all over my seats and floor, you know? You make sure he don't do that and I'll keep my head straight, but if he vomits It's an extra $35 charge for cleaning just to let you know."
"Fine. Maybe I give you an extra $50 and you didn't see us here tonight as your fare. How does that sound?"
"Well to be honest it’s aroused my curiosity but 50 bucks beats the hell out of something that killed the cat, and this cat got a kid's birthday coming up. Anyone asks, it was four well dressed business suit types this fare, they tip big, and here we are now, at your
destination. That's $22.50 plus the eh. . ."
"Let’s just call it an even hundred, huh?"
"You wanna call it that, Carlos here, he say good on you lady. But listen; you on the run from the cops or something?"
"No, it’s my friend. He owes some people money and they may start asking questions. That hundred is so you didn't see us, but if they get heavy then its okay for your memory to suddenly come back. You dig?"
"Lady; you're one hell of a lady."
Candy handed over the hundred-dollar bill then opened the door. She would help David the rest of the way to John's where she hoped he would have everything set up in the other room and the rings made.
David half stepped, half fell out the taxi and laughed. "There's a duck on that man's head."
The taxi driver rolled his eyes at Candy as if to say, 'yeah, I seen it all before. Good luck lady.' Then he was away, speeding into the night, with only the fumes from his exhaust to prove he had been there in the first place.
Candy carried David under her arms with her considerable strength. She turned the key in John's lock and then carried David up the stairs to the main room where John was nowhere to be seen. David seemed to awaken fully for moments at a time then slump back asleep, and Candy knew it was the Lorazepam that was doing it. The moment it wore off she he would be tripping. She would inject him with another small dose of the LSD before he awoke. But now she set to work stripping his body. He awoke sometimes with a smile on his face and Candy would reassure him that it was just for when he sobered up and she was going to make a strong pot of coffee and maybe even give him a stimulant. He wasn't sure about the speed but she insisted and he had finally agreed. Hell he was getting it whether he liked it or not, but he would be tied up at that point, with Black thick tape covering his mouth until it was time for him to be making noise.
The last thing she could stand was someone pleading for their lives; it kinda sickened her, made her feel like just sticking a blade in their eye just to shut them the hell up.
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