Carnival Of Mayhem Part 20

"Really?" She raised her eyebrows.

"She's my mother!"

"It will be interesting to see Ethel's reaction when you make that argument."

He hung his head. Interesting wasn't quite the right word. Suicidal was more accurate.

"But I love you," Marina said, "so I'll grant you a stay of execution. You can tell her when you're ready. Let's finish the mission first."

"Thank you. I love you, too."

The conference room in headquarters was as crowded as Aaron had ever seen it. He, Marina, Ethel, Smythe, Kamal, Ramirez, and Edward occupied most of the chairs. Ethel sat at the head of the table in her formal gray robes which marked her as a commander.

The furnis.h.i.+ngs in the room enhanced the serious tone of the meeting. Bookshelves held the tabella, the official records of the Gray Spear Society. There were hundreds of books bound in real leather. Aaron couldn't read them because they were in Latin, but he enjoyed looking at the pages. The older editions had been copied by hand onto actual parchment using beautiful calligraphy. The newer ones were printed with modern type, but the use of durable parchment continued to the present day. The records were meant to last a thousand years.

"We have some important topics to discuss," Ethel said. "We'll start with a report from Dr. Smythe."

Smythe nodded. "Thank you. It took us most of the night, but we were able to a.n.a.lyze the powder we found in the envelope. Before I go into the details, I have to mention both Kamal and Ramirez are outstanding scientists. Working closely with them turned out to be an unexpected pleasure. They made me feel much less anxious about joining this team."

Kamal and Ramirez smiled.

"Here are our results," Smythe said. "The poison is a derivative of tetrachloroethane, which is pretty d.a.m.n toxic, but the Eternals tweaked the molecule in a novel way to make it even nastier. This level of sophistication is much more than I'd expect from a creepy death cult. They must have professional biochemists working for them."

"The more I learn," Ethel said, "the more interesting they get. Even if it turns out the Eternals aren't responsible for PRooFS, this investigation is worthwhile."

"Which reminds me, ma'am. I had a nice, long conversation with Dr. Ramirez about PRooFS. The hypothesis that a poison causes PRooFS isn't as preposterous as I'd thought. We might want to take it seriously."

Ethel nodded. "Edward will give the next report."

Edward cleared his throat and referred to a sheet of paper in his hands. "I examined the records for all the phone numbers Marina gave me. Each billing account is under a different name, and as far as I can tell, all the names are fake. The Eternals have received plenty of calls over the last five years. I had to sift through over a thousand pages of bills."

"Did you find anything?" Marina said.

"Some surprising names popped up. Local politicians, businessmen, mobsters, a police captain. The Eternals have all kinds of a.s.sociates, much more than you would expect for a simple cult. I picked one name in particular as the most promising. Dean Wise. He's a criminal defense lawyer who works just a mile from here in Willis Tower. He's infamous for representing the most notorious sc.u.mbags in Chicago, and his success rate is suspiciously high. It's also suspicious how the witnesses in his cases tend to disappear or have an accident before they can testify. Wise communicated with the Eternals many times over the years."

"He won't want to talk to us," Marina said. "I'm sure he knows how to keep his mouth shut."

"Then pry it open," Ethel commanded.

"What level of force are you authorizing, ma'am?"

"This guy is the definition of a dirty lawyer. Even though it's technically against the rules, I will allow extreme measures in this case. Just get the information."

Marina nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"I don't like this," Smythe said.

Aaron looked over at him. "Don't like what?"

They were riding an elevator up Willis Tower. Like Aaron, Smythe was dressed as a Chicago police officer with a blue uniform, a vest, and a gun. The disguise was flawless, down to the details of fake identification and matching credit cards.

"Impersonating a cop," Smythe said. "Making a false arrest. Kidnapping. That's a lot of felonies in one afternoon."

They were alone in the elevator and could talk freely.

"Are you worried about getting caught?"

"I don't like breaking the law."

"Unfortunately," Aaron said, "that's part of what we do. We obey a higher law."

"Good excuse," Smythe said. "What happens if we get caught?"

"Ethel will bail us out or arrange an escape. She won't let us stay in jail for more than a night. Just don't tell the police anything. Keep your mouth shut and the Society will protect you. Talk and you're dead meat."

Smythe grunted.

The elevator doors opened. They followed the signs and entered the Dean Wise Law Office. Dark red panels covered the walls, and the furniture was upholstered with white leather. The receptionist was a perky young blonde in a red dress that revealed too much cleavage. A Beethoven symphony played in the background.

Aaron approached the receptionist. "Where is Dean Wise?"

"He's in a meeting," she said.

"I didn't ask what he's doing. Tell me where he is." He leaned forward. "Now."

Her eyes widened. "Back there." She pointed to a door.

Aaron and Smythe walked through the office. The staff looked at them curiously but not as much as Aaron had expected. It seemed the people there were used to seeing police officers.

Aaron found Dean Wise in a back conference room with several other men. All of them were white, middle-aged, and sharply dressed. Their suits were cut in a distinctly Italian style.

"Dean Wise?" Aaron said.

The youngest of the men nodded. "That's me." He had dense black hair and a neatly trimmed mustache.

"We have to ask you some questions down at the station."

"What is this about?"

"You'll find out when we get to the station. If you go quietly, we won't have to arrest you."

"Fine." Wise shrugged and looked at the other men in the room. "Gentlemen, we will reconvene at another time. You can make an appointment with my secretary. Tell her I want to see you again as soon as possible." He looked back at Aaron. "Which station am I going to?"

"Central District, South State Street."

"I know it well. Let's go."

Wise stood tall and walked with confidence on the way out of the office. He rea.s.sured his employees he would be back soon. Aaron and Smythe followed behind and said nothing. There was no rush.

In fact Aaron wasn't in any hurry at all. Unless Wise was shockingly cooperative, he was about to have a very bad day. Aaron didn't enjoy watching other people suffer.

They went down to the garage.

"You didn't park on the street?" Wise asked.

"We didn't want to block traffic," Aaron said.

Wise gave him a funny look.

The garage was a cavernous, echoing s.p.a.ce. The many giant, concrete pillars made it seem like a forest of petrified trees. Aaron led the way to a gray van.

"What's this?" Wise said. "Where is your squad car? What's going on?"

Marina stepped out of the shadows and stabbed her black fingernails into his neck.

He pa.s.sed out.

"Get ready," Marina said. "He's waking up."

Aaron looked around. They were in the cold, dark bas.e.m.e.nt of an abandoned building. The only light came from a work lamp attached to a humming portable generator. Dean Wise was tied to a metal gurney in the center of the room, and the lamp was just a foot above his eyes. Steel wire wrapped tightly around his wrists, ankles, neck, chest, and hips held him securely. He was completely naked.

Wise opened his eyes. When he saw his surroundings, his eyes grew even wider. "What's going on? Who are you people?"

Marina walked over to a wooden wall covered with a white bed sheet. She tore off the sheet, revealing a large number of tools hanging from hooks. The collection included pliers, hammers, saws, torches, clamps, and knives. Wise made an odd squeaking noise.

"It's very simple," she said. "I'll ask questions. You'll give truthful and complete answers. Otherwise, you'll experience pain."

"I have rights!"

"Not with us. We're not the police." She took a knife and ran her finger along the gleaming edge. "Not even close."

Aaron glanced at Smythe who stood in a back corner almost hidden by shadows. Smythe had provided minimal a.s.sistance during the preparation for this interrogation, and he clearly wanted no part of it. Aaron understood his discomfort, but eventually a lack of partic.i.p.ation became defiance. Smythe was walking a fine line.

"What do you want to know?" Wise said cautiously.

"The Order of Eternal Night," Marina said. "Tell us about them."

The strong reaction on Wise's face gave him away, but he still put on a brave show. "Never heard of them."

"We have your phone records. We know you made a large number of calls from your home and your private cell phone to the 'Eternals.'" She took a pair of heavy duty pliers from the wall and walked over to him.

"I call lots of people. So?"

She grabbed his pinky finger with the pliers and squeezed hard. There was a quiet snapping noise as the bone was crushed. To his credit Wise didn't cry out but his eyes bulged.

"Let's talk about this," he said in a rough voice.

"Yes," she said, "let's talk. We studied your career. It's very interesting how you became successful only after you made contact with the Eternals. New clients are banging down your door these days. All the top criminals want your special kind of legal counsel. How did you get such a great reputation?"

He clenched his jaw.

She proceeded to break his ring finger.

He remained silent.

She shrugged and broke two more fingers.

"Stop!" he yelled. "Be reasonable."

"I'm being very reasonable. You should see me when I'm angry."

"I can't talk about the Eternals. They'll kill me."

"Of course." She nodded.

She went back to the wall of tools. After examining her choices for a moment, she selected a torch. She used a sparker to light it up, and she adjusted the flame until it was a brilliant blue.

"No!" Wise said.

She came over to him with the torch. "The nice part about fire is it doesn't cause bleeding. I could roast you all over, and you'd still survive for days. Do you want to spend the next few days with me?"

He squirmed as she brought the torch closer.

"The real art is judging the amount of heat to apply," she said. "I don't want to destroy the nerves under the skin because that would reduce the pain. It's important to prolong maximum sensitivity. A second degree burn is optimal. I will demonstrate." She focused her attention on his exposed genitals.

"No!" he cried. "For G.o.d's sake, don't!"

"Are you ready to talk?"

Aaron realized he was holding his breath and he forced himself to exhale. This wasn't the first time he had seen Marina inflict terrible pain. When duty required it, she could be as heartless and cruel as any serial killer. He didn't know whether or not it was an act. Perhaps he was looking at her true personality, and the woman he loved was just a sham.

He noticed Smythe was staring at a wall, which struck Aaron as cowardly.

Marina brought the hot flame close to Wise's genitals.

"No!" he screamed. "Please!"

"You're right," she said. "We should save the t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es for last. We'll work on the chest first, and then we'll move up to the face. Not the lips, though. You need to be able to talk clearly." She winked.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?"

She aimed the torch at his right nipple. She kept a few inches of distance between the fire and his skin, but there was still enough heat to cook his flesh. He screamed and thrashed. After a minute she withdrew the flame.