by Douglas Jern
She smiled at him with genuine warmth.
“That’s not a criticism, by the way. You’re a good guy, Leo. But you’re not cut out to be a killer.”
“Wha… How… But…” Leo’s hands had dropped to his side and the gun was hanging by two of his fingers. Zachary took three long strides forward and swiped it from Leo’s unresisting hand. Leo didn’t appear to notice him. He was still staring at Laura, trying to shape the sounds emerging from his throat into something coherent, without much success.
“I was just about to tell you about Laura’s little gift, but I guess you got the first-hand introduction, huh?”
“H-How is this possible?” stammered Leo, having regained some measure of control of his tongue and lips. “How does she know all this?”
“Laura’s a bonafide mind reader, Leo. But hey, don’t take my word for it. Just think of a number and she’ll tell you what color it is.”
“Or what it smells like,” said Laura, coming closer. She was looking intently at Leo, presumably still digging around inside his noggin. Zachary felt a little uneasy, as if he were watching her stuff her hand down Leo’s pants and rummage around.
Leo looked from Laura to Zachary, his mouth closed, his eyes narrow.
“Is this why you think she’s innocent, Zachary? Because she can read minds? Because even if she can, that doesn’t change the facts. All the evidence still points to her.”
It was an astonishing recovery. Zachary was impressed. It was hard to believe that this was the same guy who had been dumbstruck just a few seconds ago. Still, he wasn’t wrong, given the information he had on hand.
“There’s more to it than that, Leo,” said Laura.
“What more could there be? Your fingerprints were on the knife that killed Jeffrey Greenwood, and forensics found no traces of DNA from anyone else on the scene. Apart from the blood of officers Rico Chavez and John Doe, that is. Remember them, the other two people you killed?”
“Didn’t you ever stop to think why my brother would assault Vincent Morricone, a complete stranger? He had no motive whatsoever. Am I wrong?”
“Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. We’ll never know now, will we? I don’t see how it’s relevant.”
Zachary couldn’t stop himself from butting in.
“Come on Leo, think a little further than that.”
“What do you mean?”
“He means I didn’t have any motive either,” said Laura. “Jeffrey was my only brother. My only family, as far as I’m concerned. I don’t have the words to express how dear he was to me. I’d never lay a hand on him.”
“Then who would?”
“Before we get to that, you need to know about the phone call.”
“What phone call?”
“The one Zachary made to the station yesterday morning. The reason Jeffrey was sent off to the Bunker in the first place.”
“Believe me, I know all about that,” said Leo and shot a venomous glance at Zachary. “If he hadn’t felt that it was so important to upstage Mullin, none of this would’ve happened.”
“No, Leo, that’s not what that phone call was about.”
“The hell is that supposed to mean?” said Leo, looking from Laura to Zachary.
Zachary looked at Laura, unsure how to bring up Homer’s involvement. She still seemed focused on Leo.
Maybe she’s trying to send him a telepathic message, he thought. And sure enough, an astonished comprehension dawned on Leo’s face, gradually, like fog clearing from the bathroom mirror after shutting off the hot water. Heartened, Zachary spoke:
“You remember talking to Joey yesterday? He mentioned the name Homer Moley, some bigshot assassin with freaky powers. Turns out the guy is real, and he’s the one behind all this.”
“Homer Moley…” Leo nodded. “Yeah, I remember. He’s real?”
Laura took over.
“He is real. I met him at the scene of Jeffrey’s murder. He killed Jeffrey, and he killed Doe and Chavez.”
“But the evidence… the knife… fingerprints…”
Leo seemed to be winding down like a tired clockwork soldier. His eyelids were fluttering as if he was on the verge of sleep, and his arms hung like deboned salmons at his sides. His body swayed gently, teetering precariously as he rocked back and forth. He reminded Zachary of a tilting doll he’d had as a child, the kind that would wobble right back to a standing position when you pushed it. What was Laura doing to him?
Don’t worry, she’s just helping him understand the situation. He’ll be fine.
He sure hoped so.
“Homer used his power to manipulate Jeffrey to kill Vincent Morricone,” said Laura. “Then he used Zachary to call the station to get Jeffrey transferred, and then he used me to kill Jeffrey. He’s the real culprit, and we’re his victims.”
“This is pretty crazy,” said Leo. “But I think I believe you.”
“Thank you, Leo. You’re a good man.”
Leo turned to Zachary.
“Guess I owe you an apology, sir.”
He held out his hand. Zachary was once again surprised by Leo’s sudden change of heart, but he was glad to see that the kid had finally accepted the truth. Hearing Laura summarize the events of the previous day, it sure sounded nuttier than a pecan farm. But no matter how crazy it sounded, it was true.
“No apology necessary, Leo. And I’m just Zachary from now on. Are you sure you want to go with us? You’ll most likely end up on the wrong side of the law too.”
“I’ll go. If Homer is still out there, I want to help you bring him to justice. What’s our next move?”
For the third time, Zachary was amazed at how quickly Leo adapted to the unfolding events. Granted, Laura had probably helped him along this time, but it was still impressive. He patted Leo on the shoulder and smiled.
“Welcome aboard, Leo.” Then, to Laura: “Where to next, captain?”
“Joey helped me get in touch with Homer.”
“No shit? That son of a bitch was holding out on me, after all.”
“He tried to hold out on me too,” said Laura. “Didn’t quite work. Anyway, Homer agreed to see me tonight at midnight. Some old warehouse over in North Ward. He told me to come alone, but I don’t see why I should take orders from him.”
“You shouldn’t, ‘cause I guarantee you he won’t be flying solo.”
“That’s what I figured.”
“I could organize a raid,” said Leo. “I could tell Caulfield I’ve dug up a lead on your location and have the place surrounded.”
“Too risky,” said Laura, awfully fast, it seemed to Zachary. “We still don’t know the extent of Homer’s power. If he finds out that the cops are on to him, there’s no telling what he’ll do.”
“So, it’s just the three of us against God knows how many, then?” said Zachary and chuckled without humor. “I call dibs on Aramis.”
“For now, I say we get out of here. There’s still plenty of time to come up with a plan. Leo, could you cuff me, please?”
“Huh?” Leo gaped at her. “What for?”
Zachary sighed, took Leo’s handcuffs, and slapped them on Laura’s wrists. Quick though he may be at accepting the supernatural, the kid still had a hard time thinking outside the box.
“People will have seen us go in here, chasing after a young woman. Got to make it look like we’ve made an arrest. Unless you know of a way to make us invisible?”
“Oh, right.” It seemed the coin had finally dropped. He hurried over to Laura’s left and grabbed hold of her arm, looking slightly awkward. Zachary took his position on her right.
“You lead the way Leo,” he said. “We’ll march her to your car and drive out of here. Where we go from there is up to Laura. That okay with you?”
“Okay,” replied Laura. “Take it away, Leo.”
They began to walk. Zachary had to adjust his stride to Laura’s shorter legs. The whole thing made him feel like he was part of the world’s smallest military parade. But it w
as a good plan. All Zachary and Leo had to do was maintain an air of authority and they would look to all the world like two stern but righteous servants of the law doing their duty. He was surprised that Laura had come up with the idea so quickly. He’d thought of it himself, but she had spoken it first. Great minds, and all that.
“SCPD, make way, please.”
Leo’s tone was authoritative without being haughty. It was a voice that commanded respect, the voice of a leader, and Zachary had to stop himself from nodding his approval. Instead he affected a gruff, no-nonsense scowl and kept quiet. Laura played her part of the charade as well; walking listlessly with downcast, sullen eyes and a pout, she totally nailed the role of a petty criminal caught red-handed.
Their deception turned out to be unnecessary. Apart from a few kids who craned their necks as they walked by, people ignored them. Just another thief getting her just desserts. Nothing to see here.
Leo urged them to the left, and when they rounded the street corner, they found themselves approaching a parking lot. Zachary could see Leo’s car parked near the exit. As they walked, a strange feeling overcame him. He couldn’t help but feel as if Laura were leading him and Leo, rather than the other way around, as if she were the only one who knew where they were really going, and the two of them were following her blindly. He had a sudden recollection of the moth bumping into the fluorescent light over and over again.
This isn’t like that, he thought. I know what I’m doing.
They reached the car and Leo unlocked it. He helped Laura into the backseat, then got in behind the wheel. Zachary rode shotgun, thankful for his cheap sunglasses. Laura might be lithe enough to hide below the windows if she wanted to, but that wasn’t an option for Zachary with his beer gut. He just had to hope that no one would recognize him.
Leo started the engine, and soon they were far away from Himdad’s and downtown. For the moment, they were safe. But Zachary knew that little by little, as unstoppable as the tide, the relentless passage of time was drawing them ever closer to their confrontation with Homer Moley.
17:22 – Laura
Before heading to Leo’s apartment, they had driven past the warehouse on Sylvester Drive for a quick recon. The dilapidated factories of North Ward were like the ruins of some fallen civilization. The only people around were vagrants and drifters, ill-clothed and dusty, regarding the car with wary eyes as it passed by their makeshift homes of tarp and plywood. Sooty gray smoke rose from the stacks of one of the few steel mills still in operation. Steel production had once been the lifeblood of the city, which was situated near a rich seam of iron ore, but the industry had slowed down over the last three decades, owing to a depletion of ore and a changing market. The mills and foundries closed, one after the other, until the bustling activity of North Ward became a thing of the past.
The warehouse looked as forlorn and decrepit as the rest of the district, towering over the surrounding chain-link fence like a big metal shoebox, its walls flaky with rust. Most of the narrow windows were broken; jagged pieces of glass stuck out of their frames like crooked teeth. The roof had caved in at one end, and the hole had been left uncovered. The old building was on its last leg, and it wouldn’t surprise Laura if it all crumbled to scrap metal one day and then remained lying, unnoticed and uncared for, another corpse of an unknown soldier fallen in the ceaseless war that was capitalism.
Despite its appearance, the warehouse was buzzing with activity when they passed by. A caravan of trucks was parked outside the loading bay, and a group of men were carrying large crates into the warehouse. Their movements were hurried, as if they were eager to finish the job as quickly as possible.
“What do you suppose they’re doing?” asked Leo, but neither Laura nor Zachary had any idea. The trucks were unmarked and the workers’ clothes plain. The crates were twice the height of a man, and each required four people to carry. Whatever was in them must be heavy.
“You think it’s got something to do with Homer?” wondered Leo.
“Hard to say,” said Zachary. “For all we know it could be completely unrelated.”
“Or it could be extremely related,” said Laura, watching the men at work. She couldn’t tell if Homer was among them; they were too far away to see their eyes and either wore hats or sported full heads of hair.
“I’ve seen enough,” said Laura. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Maybe I should call this in, after all,” said Leo as he turned a corner and the warehouse vanished from view. “There’s no telling what Homer’s got in store for us.”
“I appreciate the thought, Leo, but we can’t do that.”
“She’s right,” said Zachary. “You tell Caulfield something big is going down here tonight, and you’ll be up to your ears in tricky questions, and that’s after you’ve explained where you’ve been all day. Better to do this quietly.”
“But what if Homer has a trick up his sleeve?” insisted Leo.
Zachary simply said: “I trust Laura.”
That had been three hours ago. Now they were here at Leo’s place. If it is true that a person’s home reflects his personality, then Leo’s apartment was a textbook example of a highly organized mind. Not a speck of dust marred the minimalistic furniture, and the carpet in front of the couch was so pristine it looked like a sheet fresh out of the mangle. The pot plants in the window—showy orchids, Jeffrey’s favorite—were in bloom, their green leaves and bright lavender flowers a picture of lovingly nourished vitality. It was hard to believe that a rat would ever dare set foot in here, but stranger things had happened.
They were sitting around a low coffee table in the combined kitchen and living room, eating pizza. Laura wasn’t feeling particularly hungry, but Zachary insisted that they get plenty of food and rest before nightfall. “You can’t fight on an empty stomach,” he said, wagging a slice of his pepperoni pizza admonishingly.
“Right,” said Leo after washing down the last pieces of crust with some water. “So what’s the plan tonight? Laura?”
“From what we could tell, there’s only one entrance into the warehouse, and it will most likely be guarded,” she said. “Homer expects me to come alone. Which is why I’m going in ahead of you two.”
“That’s a pretty risky move,” said Zachary, frowning. “He won’t be alone.”
“I know, but it’s okay. He won’t kill me right away. He’ll want to question me, to find out how I know his secret. I should be able to stall him for a while, keep him distracted.”
“And in the meantime, we take out the guards at the entrance, and then come to back you up, right?” said Leo.
Laura shook her head. “We can’t risk alerting the guards. If they raise the alarm, Homer won’t hesitate to kill me on the spot. I need you to come in quietly.”
“How are we going to do that?”
“Don’t worry,” said Laura. “I’ll take care of it.”
Zachary nodded, but Leo wasn’t convinced.
“Take care of it how?” he asked.
This was the question Laura had been worried about, not because she didn’t have an answer to it, but because she was afraid the answer would ruin everything she had built up so far. She remembered the mental fingerprints she had left in Zachary’s mind, and the ease with which she had altered Joey’s memory. Indeed, she had left her mark on Leo’s mind as well, making him more ready to accept her explanation and go along with her plan. It seemed as if the more she exercised her telepathic abilities, the stronger they grew, allowing her to not only read people’s minds, but to imprint her thoughts on them. Not just a mind reader, but a mind writer. She was certain that if she tried really hard, she could convince Homer’s men to let Zachary and Leo pass without causing a fuss. Then they could take Homer by surprise.
But what would Leo and Zachary say if they learned that? Wouldn’t they conclude that if Laura were able to control the minds of others, the two of them may already be under her influence? They might even turn against her. She couldn’
t allow that, not now when she was so close. True, maybe she had messed with Leo’s and Zachary’s heads a little, but it was all for a good cause. Homer was far too dangerous to be left to his own devices. He must be stopped, and whatever Laura had to do to achieve that, no matter how unseemly, was necessary. Once they had taken him down, she would let Leo and Zachary go. Everything would be okay.
“I’ll take care of it, Leo,” she said, probing into his mind with a mental tendril, caressing his brain with tender care. She saw the glowing cloud of doubt in his mind, and with a gentle flick, she smoothed it out until it faded away. “Just trust me on this, okay?”
“She’s right,” said Zachary. “She knows what she’s doing.”
Leo looked from Laura to Zachary with an empty expression. Then his lips curved into a hesitant smile.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” said Leo, and Laura let out a relieved breath.
“Okay,” she said, keeping her voice neutral. “So, once I’m in, I want you to wait about five minutes. Then you walk calmly right past the guards. Don’t draw your weapons. Just act natural, and they’ll let you through.”
“Wait a minute.” Leo again. Laura’s heart jumped. Was he still not convinced? Had she messed up? Had Leo caught on to her?
“What if Homer isn’t in the mood to talk after all? Heck, what if he doesn’t even show up? You could be walking straight into a trap.”
“Don’t worry about that,” said Laura, once again relieved. “That’s why I’ve got this.” She took Brianna’s gun out from her backpack. Zachary had shown her how to load the magazine, chamber a bullet and disengage the safety. There hadn’t been any opportunity for target practice, but she’d make do.