The Green Lama: Crimson Circle (13 page)

Murdoch’s eyes shifted toward the floor. He placed his hands behind his back and uncomfortably cleared his throat. “As far we can tell, our source will continue producing the Substance at a consistent rate for the foreseeable future… And perhaps beyond that.”

Valco took a step forward, once again turning his bowler cap over in his hands. “And what
is
the source?”

“I’m afraid that’s classified, Harrison,” Murdoch replied, finally meeting Valco’s gaze. “At least, for now. Besides, even if I told you I doubt you would believe me, because I still don’t believe it myself.”

• • •

GARY’S CHEST had seized up, each breath a struggle.
Don’t hurt her. Please, God, don’t let him hurt her
, he repeated over and over in his head like a piteous mantra. “Listen, Mister,” he said aloud, taking a short, tentative step toward the shadowed man holding his daughter. “Whoever you are, please just—”

“She’s a lovely little girl,” the man said with affection, gazing down at the baby in his arms like a doting uncle. He looked back to Gary and Evangl, a broad smile stretching across his partially obscured face. The shadows move with him, Gary realized. “What is her name?”

“Marie,” Evangl answered in a whisper, her lips barely moving. The woman that had bravely faced death a dozen times was, for the first time in years, truly terrified. A small tear inched down her cheek and Gary discovered a rage in him he never knew he possessed. He clenched a fist and bit it back.

The man smiled warmly. “Ah! Such a wonderful name. Marie…” He looked back down at the baby and lovingly brushed a black-gloved finger across her cheek. “Hello, there, little one. So young, so soft… How beautiful you are…”

“What are you doing here?” Gary asked, his voice croaking, his body shivering despite the warmth of the room. He forced himself not to leap forward.

The man looked up at Gary, visibly taken aback by the question. “I would have thought that was obvious, Mr. Brown… I’m here to see you, both of you.”

Gary felt himself give the man a short, quivering nod as Evangl’s fingers slide between his. “What do you want?”

“Answers, Mr. Brown,” the man replied with a thin, friendly smile. “Answers to questions.”

“Then start asking,” he said, squeezing Evangl’s hand.

“All in good time, Mr. Brown, all in good time… We should get to know each other first, no? Though I confess, I know a
lot
about you two. Such interesting lives you’ve led...”

“Who are you?”

“You, for example, Mr. Brown, are quite the conundrum…” the man continued. “There aren’t too many college graduates who became musclemen for the mob. That was how you broke your nose, no? A silly reason to join up with the criminal underbelly; a bar fight in Harlem. Just because a group of men come to help you beat up some poor Negro doesn’t make them your friends—in fact I think it says more about you than it does about them. How far you fell, and how
high
you’ve risen…” he said, looking over the expansive parlor. “This home is quite lovely, Mrs. Brown… My apologies, Mrs. Stewart-Brown. The finest furnishings… And that chandelier, antique isn’t it? Looks good enough for a king. A country home made for a born and bred New Yorker. Did your father pay for all of this? What a lucky girl you are. So privileged. Did you know your father had an affair once? Oh, you were too young to remember, of course. Your mother was very upset, and it almost made the papers. The boy was so
young
.”

Gary’s jaw clenched. “You know so much about us, why don’t you tell us your name?”

The man’s smile broadened. “Ah…” he said with a chastising wave of his finger. “You already asked that, Mr. Brown, what makes you think I’m going to tell you now.”

“Please…” Evangl whimpered, taking a tentative step forward. “Just give us Marie.”

The shadowed man glanced down at Marie as if he had forgotten the child was there. “I don’t want to move her just yet. We wouldn’t want to wake her up now, would we?” He kept his eyes on the child as he continued. “Who I am doesn’t really matter, Mr. and Mrs. Brown. What I am is what really counts...” He paused, waiting for the question, frowning in disappointment when none came. “I am a guest in your house. And you wouldn’t want to be rude to your guest, would you?” He indicated the love seat across from him. “Please, sit down. Chat with me awhile.”

Evangl and Gary hesitantly complied, walking over to the love seat hand-in-hand, and sitting down in unison. Gary sat close to the armrest, his hand resting at the edge of the cushion.
Keep your eyes on him
, he told himself.
Whatever you do, don’t glance away
.

“There? Isn’t that more comfortable?” the shadowed man said with a toothy smile. “Now, where were we…? Ah! My questions… Of course, we were going to answer my questions. But I misspoke; I do apologize. I only have one. A simple one, really… Though no one has been able to answer it for me. I suppose it’s become something of a riddle…”

“Are you going to ask it, or will we have to guess?” Gary asked, trying not to snarl.

The man’s smile fell away and his voice grew suddenly deeper. “Who is the Green Lama?”

“What makes you think we know?” Evangl asked after a moment.

The man smiled again, that pleasant, venomous smile. “The noticeable twitch in your lips, the slight tick in Mr. Brown’s right eye. I’m an observer, Mrs. Stewart-Brown. There’s nothing you can hide from me. You both spent several years working with the ‘Buddhist Bastard,’ as the criminals like to call him. So, please, be a good host and tell me what I need to know.”

He didn’t hear us talking before
, Gary realized with some relief. He pushed his fingers down into the space between the cushion and the armrest, gracing the edge of something hard and cold.
Keep your eyes on him
.

“Have either of you met Theodor Harrin? Of course, you have,” the man continued with his thin smile.

Keep talking
, Gary thought as he dug his hand down deeper into the cushion.
Keep wagging that tongue
…

“The Green Lama’s associates cannot number that many, your paths must have crossed at some point. Well, unlike you two, Mr. Harrin’s tenure with Green Lama didn’t have such a fairy tale ending. Alcohol is a demon, my friends.”

“Yeah, I bet…” Gary said as his hand wrapped around the cold steel. “Give Marie to Evangl and then we’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

The man simply shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s not how this works, Mr. Brown.”

“I’m afraid it is,” Gary replied as he swung out the pistol and cocked back the hammer.

The shadowed man didn’t flinch. “Ah. A gun. How dramatic,” he said, sounding more disillusioned than surprised. “Hidden in the couch cushions? Really? Are you paranoid, Mr. Brown?”

Gary found his way to his feet, keeping his eyes and gun aimed at the man’s head. “Give Marie to Evangl,” Gary said in a low growl, his hand shaking slightly, more out of anger than fear. “Now. I won’t ask again.”

“Of course,” the man said with a nod and a smile. “Mrs. Stewart-Brown, if you would.” He held the baby out toward Evangl, who ran over and gingerly took Marie out of the man’s arms. Marie cooed as Evangl brought the baby close to her chest. She took two large, quick steps back toward Gary.

“She okay?” Gary asked Evangl, who replied with a silent nod. He turned his attention back to their intruder. “You think we’d spend all that time running around with the Lama and we wouldn’t be prepared?”

“Actually, Mr. Brown, I expected just that,” the shadowed man said with his thin, maddening smile as he slowly stood out of his chair. “But I don’t expect you to—”

BAM!

The gunshot echoed around the room as the bullet struck the shadowed man square in the chest, throwing him back over the chair, tumbling onto the floor and bringing the chair with him. Marie erupted into shrill screams, adding to the cacophony.

“Run, Evangl!” Gary shouted. But Evangl was already rushing out the door, her bare feet pitter-pattering down the hall.
Good girl
. He inched toward the man’s body, knowing better than to accept him as dead. The Green Lama had taught him better than that. He kicked away the chair, the bullet hole still steaming from the man’s chest, but Gary wasn’t surprised to see there was very little blood. “You touch my little girl,” Gary whispered harshly, aiming his gun at the man’s shadowed face. “I don’t care who the
fuck
you are, you’re getting shot.”

The man’s eyes opened, staring up at Gary with cold menace. “Moving, Mr. Brown,” the man said, showing his maroon-lined teeth. “But, a mistake. I admire your bravery, I do. But bravery is just another word for stupid.”

In a flash, a small blade sprouted out from the man’s sleeve and slid into his hand. He sliced Gary’s Achilles tendon in half and a scream that seemed to come from outside Gary’s body resounded through the room.

Gary’s finger squeezed down on the trigger as he crumpled to the floor, shattering an expensive Ming vase, a wedding gift from one of Evangl’s aunts or uncles. Beneath the torrent of pain, all Gary could think about was how mad Evangl would be when she saw he had broken the vase. The gun fell loose and flew from his hand. His head clapped against the floor and his vision went black with tiny explosions of white.

“Why must you all make it so complicated?” Gary heard the man say. “Never in all my years have I had such difficulty with a project.”

“If it was easy,” Gary coughed while his eyesight resolved. The man, a big grey blur, was standing over him, blade in hand. “It wouldn’t be so much fun.”

“Fun?” the man repeated in subdued disbelief. “Such an odd group of people this Lama acquired. No, Mr. Brown, the fun hasn’t started.” His head twitched to the side, listening to a sound in the distance.

Gary heard it too, the rumble of a car speeding away. He risked a smile. Evangl was going to get away.

The man idly wiped the blade on his suit pants and turned his attention back to Gary. “Your bravery is impressive, but I’ve grown tired of this game, Mr. Brown. My superiors demand answers and I intend to fulfill my appointed tasks.” He placed his right heel on Gary’s throat and his left on Gary’s wrist. “I tried to make it simple for you two; truly, I did, for the child if nothing else. Now, however, it is time for a more
direct
approach.”

The man lifted his left foot off Gary’s wrist, shifting his weight onto Gary’s throat. Gary hacked as his larynx was pressed into the back of his neck, red circles forming in front of his eyes. Just before unconsciousness dragged Gary down into oblivion, the man shifted his weight off Gary’s throat. Gary gasped as air rushed into his lungs, just as the man stomped his left heel down, shattering Gary’s wrist.

And Gary began to scream.

• • •

SQUAD CARS lined the street while uniformed officers filled the sidewalk, holding back the crowd. Caraway pushed through the crush of spectators, jostling a number of civilians enough to be greeted with some very choice obscenities. How he missed New York. Walking up to the police line, he couldn’t shake how strange it felt being on the other side, like the world had been inverted and he had been left behind. He didn’t know what he had expected to find when he returned from Europe; that everything would simply snap right back into place like a rubber band? It always seemed like it did before, but life wasn’t all neat and tidy like in the pictures. More often than not people just had to keep on living and hope they could hang on.

Caraway caught sight of Heidelberger at the edge of the crowd, the young officer’s clown-like hair bursting out from beneath his cap. “David!” he called over the gawkers, sirens and police. “David! Over here.”

Heidelberger swung his head back and forth—his hair flopping left and right—before he finally spotted Caraway moving toward him. “Moses in a hand basket,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “What’re you doin’ here, Boss? You tryin’ to get in your ass in deeper shit?”

“Look, don’t worry about that, okay?” Caraway calmly whispered, giving Heidelberger a reassuring grin. “I’m here with a friend.”

Heidelberger’s face crunched in bewilderment. “You on a date, Boss?”

Caraway closed his eyes in frustration. “No, not th—” He paused, took a deep breath and slowly said: “I’m here…With a… friend.”

Heidelberger nodded slowly, trying to work it over in his head. “Oh…” Then his eyes went wide. “OH! You-know-who is—”

“Caraway!” Woods shouted as he stormed over, his face red. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Evening, Woods,” Caraway said with a thin, angry smile.

“Don’t ‘evening’ me, Caraway,” Woods snapped, his voice shrill and nasal, spittle flecking his lips. “Unless you’re out on a late night stroll, you’ve got no business being anywhere near here. So turn your ass around and find someone else’s time to waste.”

“Om! Ma-ni Pad-me Hum!”

Woods spun around toward the shadows, his hand instinctually falling to his pistol.