Mirror Maze j-4

by William Bayer

  "Glad to hear it," Janek said. "How's tomorrow morning? My office is in the old Property building in the Village."

  "No, you don't get it. I'm calling from Newark."

  Janek rolled over, then sat up, awake. Suddenly his heart began to pound.

  "What're you doing there?"

  "I'm talking on my cellular from the hall of mirrors. You know the one.

  Your girlfriend's with me. You've got an hour to get your butt over here. The door'll be unlocked. if you don't show by one-fifteen, I'll blow her and the whole place up." A pause. "Oh, yeah, just to show you I'm not bulishitting, here she is to say hello."

  "Frank! "

  Clury cut her off: "That's enough. Get back on the floor."

  Jesus! Janek strained to hear the skirmish: Gelsey's protest, then the sound of a slap followed by a cry. It was the first time she'd ever called him Frank. He knew he was ready to kill for her.

  "Frisky little thing, ain't she?" Clury chuckled. "Maybe too hot and young for an old-timer like you."

  "If You-"

  "Yeah, yeah, if I harm a fair hair on her fair head you'll personally cut off my balls. Something like that, right? Now listen good. You wanted a meeting. You're about to get one. So cut the crap and get over here. And don't even think about bringing someone with you. See, I've turned your girlfriend into a walking bomb and it won't take much to make me set her off."

  Trying to stay calm, knowing that only if he did would he be able to deal with this terrifying threat, Janek dressed quickly, then triple-armed himself, securing two seven-shot Beretta pistols, one to each ankle, then strapping on his shoulder-holstered Glock. He stuck his tape recorder into his pocket and hurried down to the street.

  There was no time to borrow Aaron's car, so he stood on Broadway trying desperately to flag down a cab. Several passed. Maybe he looked too crazy waving his arms in the wind, with bits of refuse clinging to his shoes. -. a taxi stopped. Janek stuck his head in the front window, flashed his shield.

  "Want to make two hundred bucks?"

  "Da, yah." The cabby grinned. He was one of the new Russian drivers struggling to learn the city and the language. Janek got into the front.

  The cab was a heap, it squeaked and shook, its shocks were shot and the passenger seat had busted springs. None of that mattered. What mattered was getting to Newark before Clury's patience ran out.

  "Da, Jersey. First I go Newark Airport, yah?"

  The driver, Valyenkov, wanted to practice his English, so Janek nodded, pretending to listen to his chatter even as he tried to work out some kind of plan.

  Clury, it was clear, had followed him to Gelsey's, most likely even before his Sunday call. He may even have followed him the same night Timmy did, and, distracted by Timmy's inept tail job, Janek hadn't noticed. At this point, he knew, the how didn't matter. What counted was the why. What was Clury after? What was he planning? Capturing Gelsey, turning her into a bomb, then exploiting her jeopardy to compel a middle-of-the-night meeting in the maze-what could he possibly hope to gain?

  "Newark tough town." Valyenkov grinned. "Many car crooks, yah?"

  "Yeah, lots of crooks."

  Ahead he could see the glow of the airport and the flares that demarcated the bum-off towers at the petroleum storage farms. He could smell their pungent fumes and the marsh gas coming off the Meadowlands and the stink of soot and chemical waste.

  I should never have sent in Aaron to frighten Janet. I should have known that would set Clury off. I should have had Sue watch her, no matter how long, until Janet gave Clury away. I was stupid. I couldn't wait, even though the case had been going on nine fucking years. Had to push it.

  Didn't have the patience. Now I got a mad-dog bomber to deal with and a girl I love who'll get blown to bits if I screw things up.

  "Good food. No?" Valyenkov pointed to a diner. Trucks were parked in front.

  "Yeah, good food."

  He looked around. They were driving by the burn-off towers. The looming steel skeleton frames and huge gas storage cylinders dwarfed everything.

  So, what does Clury want? What if he doesn't want anything? What if he just wants to kill me? Maybe Stoney was right: Put a bomber in a corner, he'll throw a bomb. Clury' hates me. He's had three days to figure out that no matter what he does I'm going to take him down. So, if he's going down, why not take me with him? And, since he thinks Gelsey's my girlfriend, why not inflict extra punishment by killing her first before my eyes.

  "I've been fucking stupid!"

  Valyenkov turned. "I am stupid? Why you say?" "Me, not you," Janek explained.

  "Oh, okay, I understand… So, why the mirror maze? Why does he want to meet there? Maybe he likes it because of what a bomb'll do to all that heavy glass.

  His problem was that, since he had no idea of what to expect, he would be forced to improvise. Angry as he was at himself for leading Clury to Gelsey, he knew he would not be able to save her life if he went in burdened with guilt.

  It was 1: 10 A.M. when he got out in front of her building, paid off Valyenkov and sent him on his way. The wind was fierce, carrying smells of autumn leaves and rust. He stepped back to look up at Gelsey's loft.

  For a moment he thought about entering through her trapdoor. If he could get onto the catwalks, he'd be able to see exactly where Clury stood.

  He rejected the idea. Too risky. Clury might hear him, might even have forced Gelsey to take him in that way. Anyway, even if he saw them from above, he would never be able to find them easily on the floor. The maze was too confusing. As soon as he entered it he'd be lost. Getsey was the only one who understood it. If he could just manage to separate her from Clury, she might be able to find a place to hide.

  He decided to obey Clury's orders, enter the maze through the front. And if he's up on the catwalks, he can watch me stumble through.

  He pulled open the front door. The gleaming tunnel embraced him. He shut the door, cutting off the wind.

  It was not difficult to make his way through the Corridor of Distortion.

  Its mirrors, each one different with a unique capacity to deform, were meant less to baffle than amuse.

  But Janek did not stop to smile at the images of fat Janek, thin Janek, Janek-as-pair-of-legs, Janek-as-hourglass. Rather, he hastened to the Chamber of Unobtainable Ecstasy, hoping he would see Clury and Gelsey in the blue room-since he knew the secret of its effect.

  The chamber was empty. He saw only images of himself. And, as on his previous visits, it was impossible to differentiate between real space, through which he could advance, and mirrorspace, which blocked his progress. The only way through, he knew, was to move slowly, hands outstretched to feel for the glass.

  He wound as quickly as he could through the Fragmentation Serpent; it seemed to him unlikely that Clury was waiting there. The sinuous corridor, with its parabolic mirror-as-mouth, was lined with silvered cubistic surfaces that broke up his body into conflicting planes.

  Then, as he left through the serpent's narrow tail, he caught his first glimpse of Clury and Gelsey in the Great Hall of Infinite Deceptions. It was impossible to know exactly where they stood since the mirrors projected false images everywhere. The closer he moved toward them, the more reflections of them he saw: lustrous clones, repeated and repeated, surrounding him on all sides, mixed with an equal number of replicas of himself.

  "Lots of mirrors, right, Janek?"

  Everywhere he turned he saw Clury, bull-necked, smiling as he spoke.

  Gelsey, standing beside him, looked serene. Only her eyes betrayed her fright. She was wearing a shirt and shorts, her hands were bound in front of her with rope and there was some sort of pack, presumably containing the bomb, mounted like a child's school satchel on her back.

  The worst part of it was the way Clury controlled her. He held a leash attached to a chain-link choke collar around her neck.

  "Yeah, lots of mirrors. Bother you, Clury?" He tried to sound tough, indifferent, as if he felt at home in the maze p and w
as used to dealing with punks who held his girl hostage.

  "Just so you know, if little darling' here breaks loose, I can set her off by remote."

  Clury opened his hand to reveal a slim black object that looked like a television control module. The mirrors reflected it a thousand times.

  "Why're we meeting here?"

  " ' here I can see if anyone else comes in, no matter which direction.

  That's how I know I'm having a one-on-one. See, Janek, I'm not interested in surrender."

  "What are you interested in?"

  "A deal."

  "A deal made under duress is no good. You know that.

  "I got something to say."

  "So say it."

  "First, put your gun on the floor. Carefully." He held out his remote unit to show that his thumb was poised on the button.

  I know what he wants. He doesn't want to talk or deal. He's going to kill us off, then set things up to look like ' and I killed each other.

  He's good at that. It's what he did with Metaxas. He spent the last three days figuring out just how to do it.

  Janek shrugged, unbuttoned his jacket, removed the Glock from its holster, stooped, set it carefully on the floor.

  "While you're bent over pretty like that, put down your ankle weapon, too."

  Janek removed the Beretta from his right ankle holster, laid it beside the Glock, then stood up.

  "Now back off."

  Janek edged backward until his shoulder grazed the wall of mirrors. He watched as Clury, leading Gelsey by the leash, approached his guns, stooped and picked them up. The mirrors reflected the action: a thousand Clurys and Gelseys moving together, each image showing them from a slightly different angle, a thousand Clurys and Gelseys moving down endless mirrored corridors, approaching from every direction at once. it was then that the concept hit him: Amid all these moving images of humans dancing across myriad "mirrors of deception," there was no way to tell which were reflections and which were actual people. Intuiting that this insight was the key to victory, Janek began to move. Suddenly the Great Hall became alive with images. it was as if a great crowd of people had filled it up. The only strange thing about this crowd was that its members had only three faces-a thousand Janeks, a thousand Clurys, a thousand Gelseys mingling and milling around.

  "What're you doing?" Clury yelled, his words echoing off the glass.

  "You've got my guns. What's the problem?" Janek bellowed, circling, then doubling back.

  "Why are you moving?" Clury's pockmarked cheeks skipped across the silvered surfaces.

  "I don't want to get shot." Now Janek could not distinguish between the genuine Clury agd the counterfeits.

  "You will be shot if you don't stand still." A thousand Clurys aimed Janek's Glock.

  "What're you going to shoot at, Clury?" Janek said, walking faster.

  "Me or one of my clones running around in here?"

  Clury leveled the Glock in the opposite direction. Or at least Janek hoped so-there was the possibility that Clury had him in his sights.

  "Go ahead, shoot me if you can," Janek taunted. He liked his tone. It built up his confidence. He wanted to distract Clury, make him forget about using Gelsey as a shield. By focusing on Clury and ignoring her, he hoped to cause Clury to ignore her too.

  "Stand still or I'll blow up your girl."

  Janek laughed. "She's not my girl. And you won't blow her up." As he moved clockwise around the room, his mirror- twins moved in all directions. He felt as if he were revolving at the center of a rapid counterwhirling merry-go-round.

  "Don't push me!" Clury looked confused as his eyes scanned the images skimming across the gleaming walls.

  "Too much glass in here. Blow her up and you'll kill us all." Janek paused. "Maybe that's what you want." Janek, dancing, knew that if he stopped, Clury would shoot him down. "No, I don't think so,' he added.

  "You're not the suicide type. You're a killer, Clury. But a bomb's a coward's weapon."

  "Bullshit!" Clury twirled like an enraged bull.

  I've got him now!

  "Yeah, a coward's game. Wait till no one's looking, then set it up.

  Back off, crouch down, watch it blow. Can't do that in here. You'll be sliced to ribbons."

  Clury fired the Glock. Janek winced. The explosion, rebounding off the glass, echoed harshly in his ear. On the other side of the Great Hall a mirror panel shattered, then fell in pieces to the floor.

  Janek crouched, pulled out his left ankle Beretta, fired back across the Great Hall as he rose. Then he was off again. Across the room a clone of Clury splintered and crashed.

  Clury let go of Gelsey's leash. The moment he did, she ran to one of the walls. Now the three of them were separated, their images crisscrossing on every mirror.

  "Don't stand still!" Janek yelled to her. "Move!

  Move!"

  A thousand Gelseys nodded at once. A thousand dreamsisters began cavorting through mirror world.

  Clury fired at Janek again.

  I can't Waste ammo returning shot for shot. He's got two of MY pistols, maybe another of his own.

  Janek was also aware that this game of hide-and-seek could not go on too long. Concealment among the mirror figures was possible only as long as everyone moved. Once one of them slowed or stopped, he or she would become a t. The end game would be determined by fatigue.

  "Get out of here!" Janek yelled to Gelsey. "Take off that damn pack and run!"

  Clury laughed. "She can't take it off. And if she runs out of here I'll blow her up."

  Gelsey's eyes, a thousand pairs, gleamed with fright. It was the same frightened look Janek had seen when she was booked-the panic that seized her when she was not in control.

  No choice now. I've got to kill him.

  Janek fired across the room. As Clury ducked, a panel bearing his image broke into shards. Janek saw Gelsey run to one of the walls, then, head down, push her tied hands against a mirror. When the panel sprang open, she crawled into the blackness. The panel shut after her.

  Janek heard it click.

  "Fuck! Where'd she go?" Clury, panicked, fired four times in four different directions, wheeling 90 degrees between each shot. Sheets of glass splintered and crashed to the floor in different parts of the Hall. Janek watched as four Janek clones. broke and fell.

  He, of course, knew exactly where Gelsey had gone: into the chamber of the Minotaur. if I stop he'll stop, just to get off a good clean shot.

  Janek rushed along the walls, watching his likenesses whirl around.

  Suddenly he stood still. Then, assuming combat stance, he held out his pistol in both hands. Clury stopped, too, took careful aim. They fired together. Mirrors shattered at either end. They fired again.

  More panels crashed. Janek became aware of something skidding across the floor but knew he mustn't turn to look.

  Clury fired again. Janek fired back. At the end of the third volley, Clury cried out and fell.

  Get to him before he sets off the bomb!

  Janek ran forward, pistol outstretched, while Clury, bleeding, groped for his module.

  Janek fired at his leg. Clury yelled in pain, but still had enough strength to grasp the module from the floor.

  Kill him!

  Janek, stepped closer, fired. This time he hit Clury in the stomach.

  Clury rolled over, clutching his unit. Janek squeezed his trigger but his pistol was empty. Clury grinned. Janek leaped upon him. He had wrestled him over, was lying beneath him, his own back against the floor, when he felt the blast.

  All he would remember afterward was the tremendous sound followed by a hard -shower of silver shards. He remembered pain in his hands and the feel of Clury's blood, warm, viscous, spurting upon him. He remembered the foul smell of Clury's body and the multiple images of himself that filled his eyes, broken images all around the wrecked room, reflecting his fear, pain, despair. He remembered thinking: I can lie here now and watch myself die.

  Later, when he understood that
only his hands had been cut, that he was lying beneath a badly bleeding dead man covered with slivers of shattered glass, that the blood all over him was not his own, he wriggled free, sat up, peered around dazed at the wreckage and saw nothing but broken mirrors. The mirrored ceiling had fallen in, exposing the catwalks, which, he was surprised to see, were still intact. Most of the stage lights were still on, illuminating the debris, and many of the wooden frames that had held the mirrors stood undamaged.

  Gelsey!

  She had been harnessed to the bomb. Had she gotten loose? He turned to look for the chamber of the Minotaur. Surveying the wreckage, he understood that the bomb had exploded someplace else. Then he remembered, in the midst of the shoot-out, seeing the backpack skidding across the floor. So, she had gotten loose and emerged from the Minotaur's den to heave it away.

  Pulling himself to his feet, ignoring the wounds on his hands, he made his way through the rubble to seek her out amid the broken glass. He found her finally within what was left of the little room. She was dead yet her body was unmarred. One of Clury's bullets had torn into her chest.

  He sat beside her, hugged her to him, and then he wept for her, the loss of her, the loss of her art to the world. He wept for a long time, until he heard the sirens. Then he let her go, walked out of the ruins of the maze and thought: The mirrors are all broken now.

  It was cold and clear the day Gelsey was buried in a small, sparse cemetery near Richmond Park where many carnival workers were entombed.

  Walking to the site, his hands still wrapped in bandages, Janek noticed a headstone marking the grave of his father's friend, Walter Meles.

  Erica Hawkins attended, along with her gallery staff, several art collectors, a girl named Tracy, Netti Rampersad and the members of Special Squad. During the brief service a flock of crows broke from a tree, then streaked across the New Jersey sky.

  After the burial, Janek and Netti spoke.

  "Mendoza's being extradited to Texas on capital-murder charges," Netti said. "I've withdrawn from the case. I've decided to give up criminal-defense work, too."

  Janek protested. "You're so good at it, Netti. Just because-"

  She shushed him. "It's not because of that. Truth is, I hated representing slime. I thought it was a game. Now I see it wasn't.