The Queen and I (28 page)

Chapter Forty-Three: With Two, You Get Kreplach

“You really should buy something up here, Henry,” Mendel Fujikawa said as their limousine rolled through the quaint little town of Zion. “I can see why Rothstein would choose a place like this to hide from us; it lacks all forms of nuance and appeal. Why on earth would either one of us ever be caught dead in a place like this?” He lowered his sunglasses and looked at the rolling hills beyond the town sprinkled with vineyards and orchards and continued, “Although, it does provide the kind of privacy that men in our line of work appreciate and what we don’t want those prying eyes of the press to ever know about.” He reached over and held Heinrich’s hand tightly and turned to his best friend and lover, “We really need to do things like this more often.”

Schultz smiled at his companion and stared ahead as the driver navigated the narrow lanes and turns of this town that, until two days ago, he had never even heard of. If not for Mendel’s informant who was following Louis Grecko, he would have never in a million years thought to look for Rothstein in this part of the world.

That was the thing about theater types that Schultz could never understand and did not have a taste for; they always did the unexpected, and when one was dealing with them it usually proved to be more of an inconvenience than anything else. It had been true when he met with Rothstein for the first time and the playwright had refused to work with him. It happened a second time when Rothstein’s former assistant, Jacob Stone, had suddenly disappeared in spite of the fame and fortune that Schultz had provided for him, and it was happening again since word had reached him that the two former friends were now commiserating together in this godforsaken corner of the world. He hated the theater types, and these two in particular were his least favorite.

“Did your little weasel tell you where we could find him?” Schultz asked solemnly.

Fujikawa nodded his head and replied, “Are we talking about Rothstein or Grecko?”

Schultz turned on his partner and said, “Grecko, of course. Rothstein is inconsequential to us once Grecko is out of the way.”

Fujikawa sat in silence for a moment and continued, “I haven’t heard from him since he told us where we could find the two of them; besides, wouldn’t we be better served to let Louis finish the job he was hired for and then deal with him?” He picked at one of his fingernails and added, “It just seems like an awful lot of work on our part to get our hands dirty. You know how I always say you should never do the cleaning if you didn’t make the mess.”

“That’s why we are doing this, Mendel. We made this mess, and we have to clean it up before we get caught in over our heads.”

The car drove on smoothly through the town and approached the small hotel Schultz had booked. He liked his privacy and had made it clear to the proprietor that it was in everyone’s best interest to keep things quiet about his being in town. Schultz was not famous in the sense that Jeffrey was, but with his kind of money, there was always at least one person who recognized him wherever he went.

He turned to Fujikawa and said, “If things go our way, Louis will be dead by tomorrow and Rothstein will be on his way to the island.”

“Provided our little friend has tracked and cornered Louis,” Fujikawa added quietly.

* * *

Sheriff Malcolm Pitts stalked around the precinct in the same bad mood he had been in for the last couple of weeks ever since he lost out on becoming the new cantor of the Zion synagogue. He couldn’t understand how it had happened. He had done everything he could to nail his performance and had been confident he would be triumphant when the votes were cast. Rufus O’Neal had given a strong performance, but he had stumbled over a few of the more difficult Hebrew words, and during the pronunciation of a couple, phlegm had flown from his mouth into the audience, which was a major faux pas no matter where you lived.

He could not come to terms with the fact that he would be spending his Saturdays in the temple listening to O’Neal butcher the Hebrew prayers or praying to himself that the new cantor would fall ill. As the understudy, Pitts would then dazzle the crowd with his own renditions of the ancient text.

His anger was not limited to his failure to win the title that he so desperately wanted. He was angry at his foster son, Sean, for disobeying his orders to stay away from Rothstein in a violent manner. And what was worse, he had had to arrest the young man for firing his gun inside the town limits during a drunken spell that had left Sean babbling about the appearance of a ghost living at the Rothstein house, and that they were all doomed in some apocalyptic end of the world precipitated by Abby Tisch. Try as he may with the young man, he just could not seem to be able to get through to him, and this was the last straw. He was going to have to write him off and be done with Sean Wagner. He knew it was probably for the best, but Malcolm Pitts did not like losing at anything, and this was no different.

He anxiously walked to his office and closed the door behind him. It was about time for the phone call he had been waiting for, and he knew from reputation that it would be unwise for him to miss it.

Pitts had heard of Heinrich Schultz before from a magazine article he had read at the Zion barbershop a few years ago, and he was intrigued by the man who had brought the drug that taught racial inadequacies to the masses. Pitts was not one to use any kind of narcotics, but he found the concept of this one to be interesting to say the least.

Schultz’s assistant, a Mr. Fujikawa, had called the day before and informed him that the billionaire was coming to Zion on a very secretive visit to buy one of the local vineyards. He wanted the sheriffto personally see to his security and to help with a small matter of business that was not to be spoken of over the phone. While he found this to be somewhat exciting, he hoped the rich man was not about to ask him to do something illegal. He might just be the constable of a small upstate New York town, but he still had a job and a deep love of the law. Any attempt to cause him to deviate from his oath would result in the sheriff arresting the reclusive Schultz and giving him the first-hand experience of seeing the inside of a Zion jail.

The phone rang and Pitts quickly answered. It was the assistant on the other end, informing him that they had arrived and were settling in to their new surroundings. An arrangement was made for the three men to meet in one hour to discuss the details of what they wanted from him.

Malcolm Pitts looked out his window at the quiet serenity of the town and place of his birth and had a premonition that trouble was coming.

* * *

Louis Grecko stood over the shattered body of the man who had been following him since New York. He knew that this man was the one who had told Heinrich and the little man about his whereabouts, so his punishment had to be a slow and very complicated death. He admired his work and thought hard to capture that feeling, to bottle it up and store it away for later.

This was the first murder he had committed since the death of his mother, and it did not feel like the others. Nothing felt like it had before he took her life as a sacrifice to the Way. He found he was having trouble focusing, he was finding humor in things that would normally never have aroused his attention, and he kept thinking about bunnies.

Whatever this was that was happening to him, he was certain it was causing him to lose some of his edge. He needed that sharpness and cold-bloodedness to operate efficiently and effectively, and he was growing concerned about these new feelings and emotions.

He brushed them aside as best he could and focused his attention on Jeffrey David Rothstein’s new home. He would visit him soon and finish the task set out for him by Schultz, and then he would stop in on his former employer and teach him the Way. The little man, however, did not deserve such a lesson and would be disposed of separately and without prejudice.

Louis looked at the body again and suddenly thought of
Alice in Wonderland
; it had a bunny in it too.

Chapter Forty-Four: I See You

Melissa Foreman left the craft store in town where she had been sent by Saul to pick up some fabrics he said would be turned into her wardrobe for her grand premier on Broadway as soon as he, Jeffrey, and Jacob finished writing the script.

She smiled as she walked, thinking about her friend, the ghost, and how much of an effect he’d had on her life in the short time they had known each other. Before meeting Saul, she’d been a very shy, introverted girl without many friends, but since she had met Saul, she was now more confident, outgoing, and eager to meet new people and learn new things about the world outside of Zion.

Saul explained to her that her entire wardrobe would have to be drastically altered, because the orthodox Jewish clothing that she wore now was not going to help her career once she made it to the big city with Jeffrey. She did not have to turn her back on her new faith, but she certainly could not look as if she were in mourning twenty-four seven.

She crossed the street and waved hello to Abby Tisch, who was opening up the bookstore. The relationship with Ms. Tisch and Saul had flourished in the few days since the ghost had come to the rescue of Jeffrey and Jacob. When he had revealed himself to the small crowd in the parking lot that evening, he had given Abby what she had always wanted, the answers to questions she had always had about the afterlife. And even more importantly, he was a person who was willing to talk about it.

As Melissa walked to where she had left her bike, she saw a very large man approaching her, a man she had never seen before, one who was permeated danger and violence. She could not explain it; she just knew instinctively that this man was dangerous.

She tried not to make eye contact with him, and found herself wishing that SheriffPitts was around, or better still, Saul. But they were not, and she was alone on the street. She would have to just hope for the best and pray that whatever this man wanted, she would not be the one who he asked.

He stopped in front of her, and in a voice much higher than she would have suspected, said, “Good morning, young lady. I was hoping you could help me out with some directions.” He smiled, and that only caused more fear to enter her body. She had heard Saul talk of people who were insane and how you could almost smell the insanity; it was true in this case. Whatever had happened to this man, he was not operating at his best, and she hoped she could answer him and be on her way.

“I’d be glad to help if I can,” she answered quietly, trying to hide her fear.

“Can you tell me how to get to 16 Heron Drive?”

Melissa’s heart skipped a beat, since the man asked for directions to the home where Jeffrey and Saul lived.
This must be the monster I overheard them talking about, and now he’s somehow tracked them down to Zion.
She thought quickly about what to say without appearing to be lying and replied, “If you go straight down Schmaltz Street, you’ll see a sign for Twenty-Seven South, take that for about five miles, and you’ll find it on the left.”

Louis watched her carefully for any signs of deception and picked up on hers immediately. She obviously had heard of Louis and was trying to protect her friend Jeffrey. He nodded his head in understanding and smiled even broader at her and said, “That way? I thought that it was to the north.” He waited for her response.

She swallowed hard and continued, “No, that would be Heron
Lane
.”

Louis was pleased with her ability to lie as easily as she had just done with him. It showed a level of deviation from the norm that was rare in someone so young, and even more importantly, from someone who had been raised in such a sheltered life.

“Well, I guess that it’s a good thing for me that I ran into you. I would have been chasing bunnies in the wrong place.”
Again with the bunnies,
he thought.

Melissa smiled at him and hurriedly walked away, hoping he was not following her. She had to get word to Saul and Jeffrey as soon as possible that the man they were fearful of had come to Zion and that he knew where they lived.

She casually looked over her shoulder and saw that the man had disappeared.

* * *

The girl was lying to him, and Louis took pleasure in that. It proved to him that his suspicions were correct and that the address he was in possession of was in fact the place where he could find Jeffrey David Rothstein. It was time for the hunt to come to its end, and for Louis to pursue his other goal, finding the woman and making her his own.

That troubled Louis, though, in ways he could not understand. He had felt so strongly about dominating her and making her his own for so long that it seemed as if it was what the music and the Way had preordained for him. But since the death of his mother, the music was speaking to him less and less, and the path of the Way was becoming rockier and more treacherous to traverse. He could not explain this; he only knew that something was wrong with him.

It was as if he was becoming a different person, a weaker person, and those feelings were foreign to him. He could not imagine them away or push them to the back of his mind. His mind was now a cluttered mess of images from a childhood that was not his own and the meanderings of creatures he had never heard of or even seen. He was haunted by the faces of children he had never met, men he had never encountered, and animals that taunted him with gleeful delight at his failure to understand them.

The rabbits, or bunnies, were the worst. For some reason, they wanted to hurt Louis’s psyche, and they took devilish pleasure in watching him struggle to understand what it was they wanted. He was being made small to these innocent creatures, and he was defenseless against their wants. The only thing he knew about them was that they were trying to speak to him, and they were blocking out the music and the instructions from the Way.

He walked to the car he had stolen in New York and proceeded to the hotel in town where he was staying. A part of him told Louis to go to the Rothstein house immediately and finish the job, but the bunnies had promised him something wonderful if he hurried back to the hotel. The bunnies were telling him he was a good boy, and he deserved a present.

Louis had always hoped to be given presents for being good, and had lived a life of disappointment in that regard. His mother, his father, Heinrich, and even the music had never rewarded him for being a good boy. His rewards always had come from evil, and he was delighted and intrigued by the notion that being good was going to prove to be more prosperous than bad.

He slammed on his brakes, causing them to screech, to avoid hitting a lone white rabbit running across his path. He watched in muted horror as the small creature turned and smiled at him with teeth not unlike human beings. It waved hello at him and pointed for Louis to look in the opposite direction. Louis turned his head and saw the limousine parked at the same hotel where Louis was currently renting a room. He turned to ask the bunny what it meant, but the critter was gone, vanished into the afternoon sun like the early morning fog.

Louis pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and walked to the limo. He had seen this car before; he knew it. He had even ridden in this car before. It belonged to Heinrich Schultz. The big man, his former employer and lover to his mother, had followed Louis to this town. Perhaps it was because he had discovered Cloris’s body and wanted to exact some form of revenge, or maybe it was because he too knew where Rothstein was and wanted to watch firsthand what Louis was going to do to him.

Whatever the reason, he should have never come to this place. Louis would finish off the playwright, whom he had been hunting for so long now, and then turn his attention on Schultz and his little friend. He would introduce them to … to …

His mind was blank. What was his exact mission here? Why had he traveled all the way to this little hamlet? Was there someone for him to kill? Was he supposed to deliver a message? Did the bunny have the answers he was struggling for?

He walked to his room and locked the door behind him. He did not turn on the lights, preferring to be in the dark, and thought about that damned bunny. Where had it come from, and what did it want?

* * *

Jacob Stone’s face went pale, and Saul paced around the room quickly while Melissa told them about her experience in town. The man who she had spoken to was, without a doubt, the same man who had been hunting Jeffrey for these past months, and now he had somehow found him.

Jeffrey thought long about what she said and asked her questions about the man’s physical appearance and demeanor. He hoped the stranger had revealed something to her without being aware of it, that perhaps his immediate motives might have been revealed, or where he was planning on ambushing Jeffrey.

“Looks like it’s time to go back to town,” Saul announced. He magically changed his attire from a nice housedress into that of a biker from an old Brando film. “This man is never going to hurt you, Jeffrey,” he continued.

“What about the cops?” Jacob asked. He was looking a lot better just in the short time he had been with Jeffrey than when they had met in the city. “The sheriff has to know that there is a madman on the loose in his town.”

Jeffrey shook his head in disagreement and said, “The sheriff and I don’t exactly see eye-to-eye for some reason. He’ll think I’m screwing around with him, treating him like some kind of bumpkin, who knows nothing about the law.” He walked to Melissa and asked her directly, “Did he say anything to you other than asking for directions?”

She shook her head and said, “The only thing he wanted was directions to this house. I sent him in the wrong direction.”

“Maybe that gives us enough time to get out of here?” Jacob asked hopefully.

“I don’t run from trouble,” Saul boasted. “If he wants to hurt my dear friend, he’ll have to come through me.”

Jeffrey smiled at the degree of Saul’s loyalty and finally said, “I think our best bet is to wait him out here. We have the upper hand here, we’re safe here.”

Saul and Jacob exchanged concerned looks, and finally Jacob said, “I hope your hunches are as good as your writing.”

Jeffrey hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

* * *

Sheriff Pitts sat in the hotel room of Heinrich Schultz and watched as the large man poured him a drink of Scotch and soda. Normally, he would never drink while on the job, but he figured this could be a very delicate negotiation, so he should be accommodating to a fault, but still within reason.

Mendel Fujikawa offered him a cigarette, and the sheriff declined politely. He watched as the strange little man lit one of his own and winked at him. Whatever these two were up to, Pitts was certain it was not something he was used to or experienced in.

“There is a monster in your town, Sheriff,” Schultz blurted out.

Pitts froze for a moment, his glass halfway to his lips, and he asked, “Excuse me?”

“Not a literal monster, mind you,” Fujikawa chimed in, giggling. “More of the type you run into at New Year’s parties without a properly eyed guest list.” He winked again.

“I’m a little confused,” Pitts replied. “What does this have to do with me? I haven’t seen or heard of anyone strange being in the town.”

Schultz smiled at him and said, “He’s staying at this very hotel.”

Pitts coughed as he swallowed his Scotch and asked, “Pardon?”

“He’s been here since yesterday as far as we know,” Heinrich continued. “His name is Louis Grecko, and he’s a former associate of mine.” Heinrich offered the sheriffa napkin and said, “I regret that I have to tell you this since I feel partly responsible for the madman being here to begin with, but my intentions were good at the time, and I had no idea the search would lead to your beautiful town.”

Pitts was already certain that Fujikawa had lied to him about the real purpose of their visit to this town, and he now wondered how it was that they had come by the information they were now sharing. Who was this madman they were speaking of? Pitts thought it best to play coy with them and act ignorant to every nugget of information they shared.

“Now that you mention it,” the sheriff started, “what
is
he doing in my town?”

Schultz weighed the question for a moment and said, “He was tracking down a man for me who owes me a lot of money.”

Pitts knew he was lying to him as soon as he said the words, but opted to play the ignorance card again.

“What kind of money are we talking about? I mean, a man like you has more than I would ever know what to do with. This fellow must have done you wrong in a big way.”

“It’s not so much the money as it is the property,” Schultz answered. “The man is a playwright, and he stole one of my projects. I would like to get it back, but he has been very elusive and uncooperative in every sense of the word.”

Pitts studied the large man for a moment and asked, “Does this man you’re seeking have a name?”

Schultz smiled and answered, “Jeffrey David Rothstein.”

The sheriff could not control his surprise at hearing the name. He had known there was something about Rothstein that he did not like from the first time they had met, but he had never imagined he could be involved in something like this. “And this is the man who you say stole from you?”

Schultz smiled at the sheriff’s willingness to believe him. “He did. He also plans on selling it and humiliating me in the process.”

“I don’t understand. How can he humiliate you with a play?” “The play is peppered with lies about my business dealings.” He waited for the sheriff to continue.

Pitts stood up and said, “I’m having a problem fitting the pieces together.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “How do this madman and Rothstein pose a problem for me or the town?”

“The madman is a hired killer, and we’ve lost control of him.” Fujikawa inserted himself into the conversation. “We sent him to find Rothstein to offer him an amicable settlement, but he has gone rogue on us and plans on murdering the fair writer.”

Pitts took in the words he just heard and watched as the two men in the room with him stayed perfectly still, as if they were afraid of falling over if he gave them an answer they were not expecting.