by Lee Killough
“Can’t you sense the danger?” Cole pulled in room heat. “Aren’t you feeling a little cold?”
For answer, Lamper shivered.
“Don’t forget that despite the years you and Donald have been buddies, Irah is family. She has influence. She talked him into the burglaries and arson, remember.”
Cole debated saying something to the effect of Flaxx being less a buddy than Lamper thought, and revealing the truth about the “rescue” in high school. No, he needed to wrap this up quickly and save that news for a better time.
“He should never have listened to her.” Lamper huddled in the chair. “We were doing just fine without her ideas…and it wasn’t illegal. At least he listened to me and stopped the fires.”
“But he does listen to her, and she’s whispering poison in his ears about you.” Cole let go of the materialization except for his voice. “From now on, watch your back.”
22
The big worry for working on Flaxx was Maitland Flaxx. To pass himself off as Flaxx’s dream, he had to keep her from seeing him. His earlier exploration of the house showed him Flaxx and his wife had separate bedrooms, but those connected through a large bathroom and presumably they slept together at least once in a while. Not tonight, he hoped.
Luckily, no. His ziptrip to the house found Maitland asleep in her bed and Flaxx looking over a spread sheet at a desk in his room. Yawning as he did so. They had both doors into the bathroom closed. Good enough.
Cole charged up at the Golden Gate Bridge, then zipped back to Flaxx’s bedroom. The yawns had given way to nodding over the spreadsheet. Cole grinned. Now he could use the apparition that failed with Irah. He carefully visualized a big exit wound, a bloody gaping hole in place of his left eye and a chunk of forehead, then materialized and ran his fingers across the back of Flaxx’s neck. “Hey…wake up, asshole.”
Flaxx jerked awake. And recoiled, scrambling backward out of the chair and up against the wall behind it. “Jesus!”
“No, you prick.” Cole walked through the chair and within inches of Flaxx’s cringing face. “I’m what’s left of Dunavan after Irah put a bullet through my head.”
Flaxx squeezed his eyes shut. “This can’t be happening. I’m dreaming.”
“Of course you are.”
Flaxx hesitantly opened his eyes again.
Cole backed off to the edge of the desk. “That’s the only way what’s left of your conscience has a chance to express itself. So take a look at what you’ve done. This is me…and this is how Sara Benay looked the last minutes of her life.”
He had planned the image, accurate or not, while charging up. Now he morphed into it…Sara’s figure upright but with her wrists behind her and bound in clear package sealing tape; ankles bound, too; the shirt the shooter wore folded up and taped tight over her nose and mouth; her eyes bulging in terror above it.
Flaxx recoiled again. “I didn’t kill her…or you!”
The phantom gag did not interfere with talking. “But you’re willing to let Irah get away with it. Which is really stupid.” Cole put a sneer in his voice. “She likes killing. It’s a rush. Couldn’t you tell when she told you about it? Who knows who’ll end up in her sights next. It could even be…you.” With which comment, he let go.
Flaxx stared at the space where he had been…glanced around and looked astonished at finding himself standing, then shook his head. “Crazy dream.” He headed for the bathroom.
Cole smiled grimly. “That’s just the beginning, too.”
Flaxx had climbed into bed and fallen asleep while Cole charged up again. No problem. Cole materialized on the far side of the bed as Lamper in his Mr. Rogers sweater, but glowing brightly in the dark. “Donald? Donald!”
Flaxx roused, blinking. “What the hell…”
“I’m sorry to disturb you.” Cole waded into the middle of the bed. “You said I’m always welcome and…” He ran his hands back through his hair. “…I’m too upset to sleep. I’ve been worrying and worrying, trying to understand why Irah is accusing me of pulling that stunt outside your washroom. Then I had this thought.” He paced on out of the bed on Flaxx’s side, then back into the middle. “I guess it’s actually your thought since this is your dream. Maybe she’s accusing me to distract you from remembering what a good mimic she is and that she’s the one person who knows exactly what happened Wednesday night.”
Flaxx blinked irritably at him. “You think it was Irah? What possible reason would she have for the stunt?”
Cole shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re right. What personal agenda could she have?” He backed out of the bed and visualized himself fading…until by the final words of his last sentence, only Lamper’s voice remained, plaintive, apologetic. “I’ll go. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”
Flaxx fell back against the pillow, shaking his head. A minute or so later he rolled over on his side and closed his eyes.
Cole charged up again and zipped back to materialize as Lamper again, standing at the foot of the bed. “Donald! I’m sorry to disturb you.”
“Not again,” Flaxx groaned.
“But I’ve been worrying and worrying, trying to understand what’s happening. We had a good thing going that wasn’t supposed to hurt anyone except the insurance companies, but now…”
Flaxx grimaced and closed his eyes. Thinking to escape this dream? No way.
Cole waded up the middle of the bed almost to the pillows. “Donald, you know I’ll do anything for you, but…I knew Sara. I liked her. I don’t know if I can live with murder. ”
That brought Flaxx sitting upright, alarm in his face, dream or not. “Earl, get a grip. I didn’t want it but it happened. You just keep cool. I’ll get us through this.”
Cole shook his head. “Not without doing something about Irah. She’s out of control, acting on her own. She can destroy us.”
Flaxx’s voice went soothing. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle her.”
Oh, great opening. Cole concentrated and abruptly morphed into Irah, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “You’ll handle me, will you?” He laughed. “Just try. But I’m not the one you need to watch out for, brother dear. Earl’s the weak sister. If anyone’s going to bring us down, it’ll be him. Say the word and… On second thought, maybe I should just ice him preemptively. I can make it look like an accident.”
“Irah…” Flaxx began in alarm.
Cole let go.
Flaxx rubbed his face, heaving a deep sigh. “Enough is enough.” He swung out of bed and padded to the bathroom.
Following, Cole watched him take a medicine bottle out of a drawer. He read the label over Flaxx’s shoulder. So Flaxx thought a sleeping pill would end the dreams, did he?
“The problem with those, Flaxx, is they don’t really put you to sleep. They just relax you so you can fall asleep. I don’t intend to let you relax.”
But he had made the points he needed to. Now he just wanted to reinforce them…and give Flaxx the most miserable night of his life — until Flaxx’s first night in jail anyway — to put him in a good mood for tomorrow.
Charging up took longer as the streets quieted, but to keep the sessions as brief as possible, Cole settled for collecting less heat and making each of the night’s succession of materializations brief. Just enough to interrupt Flaxx’s sleep again. Deciding he might as well have fun at it, Cole made it a parade of monsters from the movies the kids and Sherrie loved: Robocop, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, Wolfman, Dracula, Freddie from Elm Street, the alien from the Predator movies, the alien from the Alien movies, a scythe-carrying figure of Death, a seven-foot version of Godzilla, and not least, the Mummy, with Sara’s eyes…all interspersed with appearances by himself — the exit wound in his face increasingly larger and more hideous until he had no face. Everyone muttered warnings about Irah’s homicidal tendencies and Earl Lamper’s failing nerve.
At breakfast in the morning, Maitland stared across the table at Flaxx in concern. “Donald, are you ill? You look terrible
.”
Flaxx grunted. “Thank you very much for the encouragement. I feel terrible…like I didn’t get any sleep.” He reached for coffee. “I had stupid dreams all night.”
Cole nodded in satisfaction and went in search of Razor.
23
Eenie, meenie, meinie, mo…where to go. Cole tried Razor’s apartment first. Where he was rewarded by the sound of running water. He headed for the bathroom. Steam rolled out over the shower curtain.
He leaned against the counter. “Did you get my message?”
On the other side of the shower curtain, Razor chuckled. “Oh, yeah. And you had the whole Central Station scratching their heads over this mysterious Specter. Because as usual, no one was near the computer when the message appeared.” He paused. “So what did she take?”
Cole told him about Lamper’s rook first, then the puzzle box.
The water went off. Jerking back the shower curtain, Razor reached for a towel. “Christ, this is driving me nuts. Knowing the where, how, and who of yours and Sara’s murders and where to find what evidence…with nothing I can do about it!” He dried himself with a vigor that threatened to peel off his skin. “I can’t get near the evidence. I can’t even tell anyone because there’s no way I should be able to know about it.” He yawned. “And I’m OD’ing on caffeine to stay on my feet to I can hang out with Hamada. Going without sleep is harder than it used to be.” He yawned again. “So how did the night go?”
Cole gave him a rundown.
During the recitation, Razor dressed and filled a travel mug with coffee. “I think dying has found an untapped sadist in you. You’re really getting into this haunting business.”
Cole considered. Tormenting Flaxx had been a pleasure. “It has its moments. Now I’ll go ruin their day.”
24
Not knowing which people were going to arrive when, what opportunities he would have for working on everyone, or how much time he had for recharging along the way, Cole worked traffic on the Embarcadero three times longer than he had before. Fortunately, there seemed no limit to how much heat he could pull in. How long it lasted remained to be seen.
From the intersection, he zipped to the Flaxx reception area to wait…using as little energy as possible and hoping it was a short wait.
He had his wish. Irah arrived in minutes. From his seat against Gina’s desk, Cole watched her lean down to unlock the doors. And he watched the appreciation on the face of Antoine Farrell coming up behind her. The skirt of her suit rivaled any of Gina’s in brevity. She spotted Farrell but made no attempt to pull her skirt down, apparently unconcerned about what he saw.
“Have a good day, Antoine,” she said as they came in and, leaving him in the reception area, headed down the hallway.
Cole wanted to catch Lamper coming in, but after a moment of debate, followed Irah. Behind him, Farrell grinned as he uncapped the coffee he had brought with him, murmuring, “It’s starting pretty good.”
Irah headed to her office, where she dumped her shoulder bag in a desk drawer, then pulled a little portable TV from the file drawer in the desk. The receiver for her spy cameras? She confirmed that by turning it on and running through the channels. Each one showed an overhead view of an office. Lamper’s he expected, but seeing Flaxx’s surprised him.
So she was spying on big brother, too. Sweet. He would make sure Flaxx knew. The cameras had to be eliminated since it would be bad if she caught Flaxx and Lamper talking to thin air. But the cameras gave him good ammunition again her and ratting Irah out would be such a pleasure.
Returning up front, he found Farrell sitting at Gina’s desk. Probably he did that every morning until Gina came in, so the doors could remain unlocked for arriving employees. While Farrell sipped his coffee, Cole studied him, memorizing his appearance from all angles. Now, if Gina would just arrive before Lamper, so Farrell would be out of sight in the Security office.
No such luck. Lamper walked in with Farrell still watching the doors. To Cole’s satisfaction, Lamper showed strain around his eyes and wore a preoccupied expression. He barely nodded to Farrell as he came through the reception area.
Cole followed him. He would just have to go ahead and do this. When Lamper unlocked Bookkeeping’s door and went in, Cole materialized as Farrell. “Mr. Lamper, excuse me.”
Lamper turned in surprise. “Yes?”
Cole lowered his voice. “I need to tell you about something I saw in Miss Carrasco’s office yesterday when I carried some stuff there for her.”
Lamper frowned. “What was that?”
“Promise you won’t say anything to her. She’ll know where you heard it and I don’t want her for an enemy.” His conscience did not need Farrell suffering for this impersonation.
Lamper’s frown went wary. “What did you see?”
“Well…she had this little portable TV on her desk, and…your office was showing on it.”
Lamper sent a startled glance toward his office. “My office?”
Cole edged closer and lowered his voice still more. “I don’t know why, but she’s got a spy camera in there.”
Lamper’s eyes widened. “Really,” he said in a flat voice. “Thank you for telling me.”
“What do are going to do about it?”
“Nothing.” Lamper gave him a thin smile. “I have nothing to hide.”
Walking out and letting go, Cole grimaced. That was a surprise. He expected…hoped for…outrage that would sent Lamper storming to Flaxx. He needed to do a better job of reading Flaxx and Irah if he wanted to pull this off.
And he better read Flaxx correctly right now, he saw, looking up toward the reception area. The man himself had just walked in. Gina had not arrived, though, and Farrell still manned the reception desk.
Cole took stock of the energy in himself. Did he still have enough to go again? Maybe.
He let Flaxx almost reach his office door before materializing behind him as Farrell again. “Mr. Flaxx, can I talk to you?”
Flaxx turned, frowning. “Shouldn’t you be up front?”
His mood had not improved since breakfast. Excellent. “Do you know there’s a spy camera in your office?”
Flaxx stiffened. “What!”
Cole gave him the same story he had Lamper, repeating the plea not to give away who revealed about the camera. “I thought at first maybe you set it up in case that motherfucker from yesterday comes back, but it’s aimed at your desk, not the office door or washroom, and Miss Carrasco acted like she didn’t want me to see. So I thought I’d better tell you.”
Flaxx scowled down the side hall. “You did the right thing.” The next moment he was stalking toward Irah’s office.
Cole let go of Farrell and followed.
Flaxx cranked the knob and looked shocked when it failed to turn. He pounded the door. “Irah! I want to talk to you!”
Seconds later she opened the door and eyed him. “Something wrong?”
He pushed past her into the room and wheeled on her. “Where the hell do you get off putting one of your damn spy cameras in my office!”
Her brows rose. She closed the door. “A camera in your office?”
He reddened. “Don’t play innocent! I want it out!”
She smiled. “Then it’s gone.”
Cole blinked. What? Instant capitulation?
It astonished Flaxx, too, deflating him. His mouth opened and hung there.
“I’ll be right there. Let me get a ladder from the custodian’s closet.”
Five minutes later she was up on the ladder unhooking the grid over the lights. “You know, I’m just following your orders, looking for whoever was outside the washroom yesterday.”
“By spying on me?”
“To learn what Earl is up to.” She picked at tape securing the tiny camera in the light fixture. “You trust him too much. I planted cameras on both of you so I can monitor the bullshit he’s feeding you.”
Talk about bullshit. Despite how busy her hands looked, suspicion scratched at
Cole. Climbing up beside her on a virtual ladder confirmed his doubts. She was only pretending to remove the camera. No wonder she agreed to Flaxx’s demand so readily. In a movement hidden from Flaxx, behind and below her, she fished another tiny camera from the breast pocket of her suit jacket and palmed it.
After snapping the grid back in place and backing down the ladder, she waved the palmed camera in front of Flaxx’s face. “Here. Okay? You want to have a happy face for the store manager meetings today.”
If not happy, he looked at least mollified…unaware he had been conned.
Cole noticed Irah did not ask if Flaxx wanted her to remove the one in Lamper’s office. He noticed Flaxx never mentioned it either.
That left cameras still in both offices. Damn. Well, he would just have to work around them.
Then he realized he could also use them.
Irah hauled the ladder away. Cole followed her. After returning the ladder to the custodian’s closet, she settled in her office and as he hoped, switched on her spy monitor.
The Lamper channel showed him talking to Mrs. Gao.
Irah switched to the Flaxx channel. He scowled across his desk at Maldonado. “My wife’s already told me that. I had a rough night. Make my coffee strong today.”
Now would be a perfect time for a materialization that made use of Irah’s spying. He needed an energy charge first, though, and before he could zip to his intersection of choice, Irah was already switching channels to watch Lamper. How often did she switch back and forth?
A short wait told him that she focused most on Lamper, which was to be expected, though she periodically checked Flaxx. He could work with that, he decided, and zipped to the Embarcadero.
From the Embarcadero he came back to Irah’s office, where he waited until she switched channels to Flaxx. Flaxx sat with his chin propped on one hand as he looked down at a brochure spread open on his desk. A bobble suggested the hand was supporting his head.
Quickly, Cole ran through Irah’s office wall and the washroom and over to the door of Flaxx’s office. He materialized as Irah. “Donald.”