Mirror Maze j-4

by William Bayer

  Gelsey grinned; Janek recognized the smile of a person trying to disguise the deepest perplexity. "Ever hear of anything like that?"

  He nodded. "It's a lot more common than you think."

  She shook her head. "I wonder if Dr. Z knew. He told me he thought the secret was hidden in the maze. Well, now I found it. And, funny enough, I feel better for it. I'm almost… pleased." She paused, tried to smile again. "I guess I must have suspected it. Because, you see, I'm not all that surprised."

  He studied her. She was a strong person, but not as strong as this.

  "You're entitled to cry," he said.

  "I've been doing a lot of that lately. Too much."

  "Things are changing for you."

  "True." "Go ahead," he said. "Let yourself really feel it. It'll be healthy for you if you do."

  "The pain? Oh, I feel it!" She spoke bitterly. She glanced at him.

  "Dammit, Janek-will you come over here and sit beside me, please?"

  He moved to a place beside her on the couch.

  "I pity her," she said. The tears were flowing now. "I really do pity her. For being part of something so tacky, so fucking sordid. I wonder if she wore a monster's mask because she felt like a monster."

  She turned to him. "Does that make any sense?"

  "Yes, it does."

  As he held her, it occurred to him that the pity she was feeling now for her mother was similar to the pity he had felt when he had first seen Leering Man and realized that a powerful artist was engaged in something as sleazy as picking up and drugging men.

  "I'm not a big quoter," he said. "But there's a line from the Bible:

  "For now we see through a glass, darkly… but then shall I know even as also I am known." I think that's what you did today. Looked through the mirrors to a place where you could see yourself." He embraced her.

  "I think it's always better to know, don't you?"

  "Yes, always." She hugged him. "And you helped me. if it weren't for you, I don't think I'd have ever found the Minotaur." She turned to him.

  "Thank you for that. It probably seems strange, but I'm grateful."

  "Soon you'll start feeling free."

  "I'm already beginning to," she said.

  With each passing day the puzzle became clearer.

  Ray phoned from Houston. Janek, listening, imagined him slowly stroking his mustache:

  "Me and two El Paso cops-Cody and Martinez, both great guys-have gotten a good fix on Tony Collizzi. Seems Tony's been living very well since he got out of Green Haven. Signs of unexplained wealth all over the place.

  Fancy high-rise condo. Snazzy bronze-metallic Cadillac.

  Numerous sharp-cut Italian suits, kind that cost you a grand and a half.

  "Course none of this fits with his so called job as parking-lot manager.

  So, on a hunch that Collizzi's arrogant and sloppy, we start checking out his old credit-card slips. We got enough now to place him in El Paso the night of the copycat: gas purchases, restaurant and bar bills, motel, the whole bit. Also, there were some latents on the rope and some hair and skin samples collected at the scene. Soon as we get positive lab reports, Cody and Martinez will haul him in." "Good work, Ray,"

  Janek said. "How do your new cop friends feel about Mendoza?"

  "They want him bad." Ray chuckled softly. "Way they figure, if they get enough on Collizzi, he'll turn Mendoza over. Then they'll have a classic murder-for-hire case. Texas juries love '. Most of the time the guy does the hiring gets the needle."

  Netti invited him to lunch in Chinatown. They were to meet in a second-floor restaurant on Pell Street. It was a cool, windy, sparkling day, the light so dazzling they both wore sunglasses.

  Approaching from opposite directions, they nearly collided at the restaurant door. Netti stood back, removed her glasses, squinted.

  "Well, look who's here," she said, pretending they'd met by accident.

  Janek squinted back. "How're you?"

  "Maybe we should stop meeting like this." "Yeah… I guess we should," he said.

  At the table she fixed him with a happy smile, then recommended they share a bass. Soon a cook wearing a headband embellished with Chinese characters appeared in the dining room with a short-handled net. He approached a large aquarium a few feet from their table, scooped out a live fish, then carried it, dripping, back to the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later the waiter brought it out on a platter, cooked whole and covered with a spicy black bean sauce.

  Netti tasted it. "Um, good! Have a bite."

  She grasped a portion with her chopsticks, offered it to Janek. He leaned forward, took the morsel neatly between his lips, sat back to devour it. The texture was like silk.

  "Best fish I've had since Cuba." she had papers for him to sign; she pulled them out of her briefcase.

  "What're these?" Janek asked. He was more interested in his half of the bass.

  "Your agreement with Sarah. Alimony ends next month."

  Janek laid down his chopsticks. "I thought there was going to be a phase-out."

  Netti smiled. "They agreed to immediate cessation."

  "How'd you manage that?"

  "By threatening to put Sarah under oath, then examine her about her life-style. When her attorney heard about Honolulu, he backed down real fast."

  Janek stared at her. "You're a great lawyer, Netti. But why make me think I'd have to pay her for another year?"

  She shrugged. "Didn't want to excite you too much. Wanted to bring you along slowly. Wanted to surprise you, then see the expression on your face." She paused. "Generally speaking, I like it when a client thinks I'm better than he thought."

  Oh, that convoluted mind!

  After lunch, in the midst of thanking her for her tip on Clury, he casually mentioned that he'd discovered some things that were not going to rebound to her client's advantage.

  She waved her hand. She didn't want to discuss it. She mumbled something about how, if he ever told anyone what she'd done, she could get disbarred. It was then, for the first time, that he understood that she had pointed him toward Clury fully aware of the consequences to Mendoza.

  That, he thought, took courage, being perhaps the most grievous sin a criminal lawyer can commit. But he respected her greatly for having committed it. She had sized her client up, and, understanding he was a killer, had violated the special ethics of her profession. By doing that she had not only put herself at risk, she had placed her destiny in his hands.

  "I won't mention it again," he promised.

  With dexterous manipulation of chopsticks she extracted the fish's cheek, then offered him the piece.

  "Take it," she urged. "It's the tastiest bit." Her eyes expressed her gratitude.

  When he signaled the waiter for the check, he discovered it was already paid.

  He turned to Netti. "Why?"

  "This is a celebration lunch. When a case is won, your attorney picks up the tab." She smiled. "You'll get my bill in the morning." "It'll be a pleasure to pay it," he said.

  On the street, sunglasses back on, about to part, Janek asked how things were going with Carlson.

  "Not good. He won't budge." Netti shook her head. "I'm going to call Gelsey this afternoon. I hate to give her the bad news, but it's time to turn herself in."

  Sue called from Florida. After three days of watching Janet Clury, she'd seen no change in the woman's pattern.

  "Work. Mail. Gym. Store. Home. Then she watches crap on TV.

  Meantime, it's hot down here and I'm getting bored. Just give me the word, Frank-I'm ready to move in on her and squeeze."

  "I'm going to send down Aaron to do that," Janek said.

  Silence. "Any particular reason?" She couldn't hide her disappointment.

  "I think it'll be more threatening coming from a man. But you'll still have plenty of fun."

  "How's that?"

  "When Aaron leaves you'll be waiting outside, ready to follow Janet when she makes her move."

  "And if she doesn't
?"

  "She will. Or I've got this whole thing wrong." "Okay," Sue said, breathing steadier. "I can get off on that. Maybe you're right, maybe Aaron will scare her more. Still, I hope one day you'll let me show you what I can do."

  He wrote up his report on Dakin, added the tape he'd made of their final conversation, addressed a covering letter to the Manhattan D.A. recommending prosecution for obstruction of justice, then sealed the package and locked it in his filing cabinet. He wouldn't send it until he captured Clury. But he wanted it ready to go.

  The following morning, cloudy and raw, Aaron picked him up at his apartment. They ran into heavy traffic on the FDR, but still had time to make the flight. In the car, Janek explained what he wanted Aaron to say to Janet Clury and exactly how he wanted him to say it:

  "Start out casual: ' your husband been in touch with you lately?" That should make her jump. ' the hell're you talking about?

  Howie's been dead nine years!" When she says that, look her straight in the eye, then give her a half-snicker. Start in on her pension. That'll be the first thing to go. Then we'll seize all her property to pay back nine years of pension fraud. When she asks, ''s fraudulent?" explain she obviously knew Howie hadn't been blown up. Tell her there'll be criminal charges. She'll be extradited to New York for trial. Could be a lot of jail time because New York jurors don't like folks who defraud their impoverished city. Whether she plays it cool or frantic, doesn't matter, so long as you leave her with the feeling she's in terrible trouble.

  Remember, you're sending a message: It's not that we think Howie's alive, we know he is. Try not to spend more than fifteen minutes with her. When you leave, you want her panicked. When you get to the door, hesitate, then say something like: ' you hear from Howie, tell him Janek might be willing to deal." Don't stick around, don't explain. Leave, drive straight to the airport, fly back here tonight."

  "What about Sue?" Aaron asked. "Shouldn't I stay with her and help?"

  "Sue will handle her end fine."

  At La Guardia, Aaron patted the fender of his Chevrolet, then handed Janek the keys. "Take good care of her, Frank." "Right," Janek promised.

  "I'll even fill up the tank."

  He drove the car out to Newark to pick up Gelsey and bring her back to the city to be booked. He had promised her that it would be quick, that Netti had everything arranged. She'd be photographed, fingerprinted, arraigned and immediately bailed out. He'd have her back home right after lunch.

  On their way in, he could see she was nervous. To distract her he asked questions about painting. What did she like best about it?

  Creating the images? Moving around the paint? Working with her hands? Or was it the result, taking pride in what she'd achieved, reliving the feelings she'd released?

  "It's all of that," she said, "and something more. I call it soothing the hurt. See, I think that's what artists do. We're injured people.

  We paint, sculpt, whatever-to try and heal our wounds. At least a little bit."

  A few moments later, the Manhattan skyline came into view. The towers loomed, silver forms against a dark, cloudy sky. The clouds looked almost purple, Janek thought-purple like a bruise.

  He stood beside her during the booking procedure. Rain poured down outside. Stiegel, as expected, didn't show, so Janek listed himself as the arresting officer. There were papers to be signed for the bondsman.

  Netti worked hard to move things along. But there was still a sleaziness about the process that he wished Gelsey could have been spared.

  Beaten-up furniture, scuffed floors, disinterested guards and cops, people yelling, quarreling, whimpering, faces creased with helplessness and fear. The air was stale, tainted with the mingled aromas of whiskey breath, body odor, exhaled cigarette smoke. Once, when the thunder clapped, Gelsey grabbed for his hand. He held hers tight, finally felt her relax. Then, when they took her away, she looked back at him, panicked, with the eyes of a frightened doe.

  As he stood in the rear of the courtroom waiting for her to come out, he was again struck by the tawdriness of the system-the alienated dialogue between judges and lawyers; dehumanizing deal-making; battered, abused public facilities he'd always taken for granted. Where, he wondered, amid all this filth and taint, was the vaunted Majesty of the Law? As Netti had predicted, the entire procedure took two hours, but Gelsey was shaking when she emerged. She had. to Janek that although she had often been frightened in men's hotel rooms and apartments, she had managed to keep her cool because she knew she was in control. At Central Booking she'd had no control over anything. She'd been but one in an endless stream of beasts prodded and Coaxed through the Stock yard-, of life.

  "It's not that I'm so fancy," she said when they were outside the courthouse. The rain had stopped but the steps still were slick. "I've eaten plenty of shit in my. life, but in there I felt helpless." She paused. "Jail's like that, isn't it?"

  "No one wants you to go to jail, Gelsey," Netti said. They were walking on either side of her, descending the broad granite steps to the street.

  "Yeah, sure. No one except Carlson. Look, I know I did bad stuff."

  She was fighting back her tears. "I deserve to be punished. I know that, too."

  She looked at Janek, again grasped hold of his hand. "I just don't know if I can take it."

  Janek took her to lunch at a fish joint on South Street, a rowdy place filled with workmen talking loudly over plates of mussels and clams. The moment they sat down, Gelsey began to castigate herself, saying how it was good for her to have gone through booking and arraignment, how the experience had helped her to see what she really was: a doper-girl, a felon, a thief.

  Janek didn't quarrel with her, just listened. He thought: She needs to bruiz herself down, needs to let it out. But the whole time his heart was crushed with grief.

  When their food came, Gelsey brightened. "Know what I'm going to do when this is over'?"

  "What?"

  "Destroy the maze. Sell the building. Look for a loft here in the city."

  "Sounds good. But why not sell the building with the maze intact?"

  She shook her head. "Nobody'll want it. Nobody'll understand it. And for me, now it's finished. You helped me solve the mystery of it, Janek. I look at it now and all I see is a lot of stupid glass."

  "So, it's no longer art. That's what you're saying. One day it's a great maze work, the next it's a pile of shit."

  She shook her head. When she spoke it was with the same bitter contempt she'd just applied to herself. "Oh, sure, it's art. It just doesn't feel like art anymore. To me now it feels like terror and pain. So, why not tear it down?"

  He didn't challenge her. He understood why she would want to destroy it, considering the evil ways her father had used it against her. But he hoped she'd change her mind. The maze was magnificent, and once broken up it could never be rebuilt. More important, he felt she would do nothing for herself by trying to punish the scene of her suffering.

  Yes, the maze had terrorized her and held her in its thrall, but now, having understood her pain and having rendered harmless its source, she could leave it to dazzle and entertain others. He resolved to broach this to her when she was in a less bitter state.

  There was a bill from Netti in the office mail. It was typed on formal invoice stationery:

  TO FRANK JANEK, FOR PROFESSIONAL SERVICES: One Chinese Carry-out Dinner (Payable on Demand) He laughed, carefully placed it back in its envelope, then stored it in his personal file.

  That evening he sat alone at Special Squad, reading, waiting by the phone. At 7:20 it rang. It was Sue. She was whispering, excited:

  "I'm at the mall, Frank, the one Janet goes to every afternoon. I'm standing at a phone bank. She's at another one, fifty feet away.,I figure she's on line with Clury. She's yakking a lot and looks upset.

  About five minutes after Aaron left, she stormed out of her house, peered around, then got in her car and took off. Wait a see… she's listening… now she's nodding. He must be trying to calm her dow
n."

  "When she leaves, stay with her," Janek said. "But don't forget which phone she used. Note the time, come back in the morning, copy down the number, then go to the locals and have them subpoena records from the phone company. If she's using a credit card-"

  "She isn't. I saw her feed coins to the slot."

  "Then Clury's probably not too far away. Remember, he's a cop. He may figure she was trailed. He may try and come in behind you, so watch your back."

  "I never thought of that."

  "Be careful. If Janet doesn't head home, she may be leading you into a trap."

  "What do I do?"

  "Drop the tail, go back to your, motel, get a good night's sleep."

  "Right." She paused. "Whadd ya think he'll do, Frank now that he knows we're on to him?"

  "One of three things. He'll either run, go nuts and try to bomb us, or get in touch to see what kind of deal he can Make.

  On his way out to La Guardia to pick up Aaron, he thought about the real possibility that Gelsey would have to go to prison. He knew now that he and Netti had been deluding themselves. As soon as Gelsey's story came out, more victims would come forward, more complaints would be filed, the felonies would mount up, the pressure for a sentence would grow.

  Despite her assistance in trapping Kane, a fair judge would have to take into account the violence of her crimes and the ways she'd terrorized her victims.

  It was after midnight when Aaron's plane touched down. He emerged tired but still high on his interview with Janet. He described it as they walked through the terminal, then across the parking lot to his Chevrolet:

  "She's the cool-blonde type, but she wasn't all that cool when I got done with her. All that stuff about heavy-duty jail time-I swear, Frank, she was ready to pee in her pants."

  "She denied everything."

  Aaron nodded. "She bugged out her blues." He bugged out his to demonstrate. "What'd she do afterward?"

  "Drove fast to a public phone in a mall."

  "Clury must have told her never to call him from the house. I wonder if she still cares for him. Or if they made some kind of deal."

  "The pension was the kiss-off. All she had to do was act sad at his funeral, cry a little on the commissioner's arm, then sign the cremation papers." Aaron smiled. "Come to think of it, I didn't see an um in her parlor."