The Queen and I (29 page)

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Authors: Russell Andresen

BOOK: The Queen and I
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“This first guy’s name is Grecko, you say?”

Schultz and Fujikawa exchanged triumphant smiles. They had the sheriff working for them now, and Louis and Jeffrey would soon pay for their inconvenience with their lives.

* * *

 

Louis Grecko heard every word Heinrich and the odd little man said to the sheriff, and it troubled him. Heinrich had obviously turned his allegiance toward the strange little man who Louis disliked so much. They were now in cahoots with the sheriff, and that posed a slight problem.

He knew he would have to alter his plans slightly and address the matter of the sheriff first before going after Rothstein, then he would turn his attention to Heinrich and the speck of filth that was with him.

The bunnies were sitting around the room with him, caressing him, encouraging him. He would soon have whatever he wanted, and it would be the bunnies who gave it to him. He no longer needed the music or the Way; he would do as these small creatures instructed, and he knew they would not fail him.

He watched as they danced for him. He was amused by them and that made him feel good. They wanted him to be happy, and he was going to see to it that
they
were always happy as well.

Chapter Forty-Five: Rounding up the Schmendricks

 

Abby Tisch could not believe her luck. The ghost was standing here in her bookstore and was actually schmoozing through her library. He was interested mainly in books about the theater and the old vaudeville era, but he was strangely fascinated with the Kardashians. He had told her it was because he found it amazing that any woman could become so popular by merely putting a man’s penis in her mouth.

“If that’s the criteria for fame, I should have an entire encyclopedia,” he said to Abby in jest.

As he continued browsing through the store, she waited patiently with the young Foreman girl, who had accompanied him into town. From what she understood, he did not like coming to town and it was a bit of a rarity for him to do so, so this made Abby all the more intrigued by what he could possibly want from her.

Ever since that night when he had revealed himself to her and saved Jeffrey from the horrible Sean Wagner, Abby had been mesmerized with everything there was to be known about him. She even did her own research about him and learned much of the same information Jeffrey had learned when he was reconnoitering information. She knew his name was Saul Milick and he was once the toast of the town. What she did not know was the cause of his death, as she did not delve that deeply into his past. She was not concerned with that information, anyway; she wanted to know the ghost, not the way he came to be one.

“Is there anything in particular I could help you find?” she asked hopefully.

“Not really, it’s just been so long since I was able to browse without hiding that I wanted to do it again,” Saul answered, lost in his own world.

Melissa smiled at Abby and whispered, “He’ll let you know why he is here on his own terms. He’s a bit of a diva.”

Abby chuckled softly at that and replied, “He can take as long as he likes. I’m just thrilled to have him here so that I can actually talk to him.” She looked at Saul and then continued, “Did he give you any hint as to what it was that he wanted to ask me?”

Melissa shrugged her shoulders and answered, “I think it would be best if he told you what he wanted. We’re not even supposed to be here right now.”

Abby found that last statement to be interesting. Did the ghost have some kind of curfew? Was he restricted about his comings and goings? Was he about to ask her to do something illegal or dangerous? All of these questions would be answered, of that she was certain. She just had to keep telling herself that it had to be on his terms.

“Found it!” Saul exclaimed and grabbed a volume from the shelf. He walked to the counter and dropped the book in front of the two women and said, “This is what I’ve been looking for. We need to make copies of this book.”

Abby and Melissa turned their heads askew to read the title and saw that the book was called
A Broch to Zolst Lign In Drerd: A Novice’s Approach to Yiddish.

Melissa sounded out the foreign words and asked, “What does it mean?”

“Literally ‘Oh hell’ and ‘Drop dead.’”

“What are we going to do with it?” Melissa pried.

“And why do we need to make copies?” Abby chimed in.

Saul smiled at the two of them and said, “We are going to give the town a crash course in Yiddish.”

The two women looked at each other and then back at the ghost, who was beaming with mischievous pride.

* * *

 

“He’s not up here,” Jacob Stone said while descending the stairs. “Did you check out back?”

“He’s not there either, and Melissa isn’t answering her phone.”

Jacob smiled and said, “Of course not, it’s Saturday, she wouldn’t answer her phone on the Sabbath.”

Jeffrey nodded his head in agreement and realized that Jacob’s statement brought up new questions. Why did Saul not tell him where he was going? Why had he brought Melissa with him? And was he being careful to avoid this Louis Grecko character?

He knew Saul was not a possession to be controlled, but he also knew the ghost was a little naïve to the way things were in this decade, as opposed to the one he used to live in. Saul’s innocence was sometimes his greatest weakness, and Jeffrey feared it might cause problems for Jeffrey as well as the young Foreman girl.

Saul could not be hurt, of that Jeffrey was certain, but there was nothing to convince him that she was immune to harm just because she was with the ghost. He wanted to be angry at his friend, but found he was concerned about their safety more than anything else. He would never forgive himself if something happened to Melissa or Jacob, for that matter, because someone was targeting Jeffrey in a vindictive plot.

“I think I should go into town and look for them,” Jeffrey said. “If nothing else, I can at least try to get Melissa out of harm’s way.”

“Let me go,” Jacob volunteered. “Grecko isn’t looking for me. He won’t have any idea who I am if he sees me.”

Jeffrey furrowed his brow and answered, “I don’t know. I would think a man who does what he does for a living would take the due diligence to find out everything about his mark. Odds are you showed up somewhere in his research.”

“All the same, I would like to try.” Jacob extended his open palm. “Keys?”

Jeffrey nodded over toward the table by the door and told him to be careful and not to try anything risky, to stay away from anyone who looked dangerous and to get the hell out of town if it looked like the madman was coming for him.

Jacob stopped by the door and said, “I just realized something. If I leave, you’ll be here all alone.”

“Not to worry,” Jeffrey tried to calm his friend. “This place has an old-fashioned root cellar under a trap door; Saul showed it to me. If anyone shows up, I’ll hide down there.”

Stone thought about what he had just heard for a second and continued out the door, yelling to Jeffrey to lock up immediately.

In the quiet of the house that was now completely empty for the first time since he had bought the place, Jeffrey felt very alone and even more vulnerable. He hoped he had made the right decision by staying behind, and hoped even more that Saul would soon return with Melissa. Despite what Jeffrey wanted to believe, he felt safer when the ghost was around, since he knew Saul would stop at nothing to protect him.

He looked out the back window toward the lake and wondered when the monster that hunted him would strike.

* * *

 

“It looks like most of the town is here,” Melissa said hopefully to Saul. “Looks like only the sheriff and a few of the vineyard owners aren’t here.”

“Impressive work, Abby. How did you get everyone gathered so quickly?” Saul asked.

Abby smiled and said, “It helps to be friends with the local gossip columnist. I swear, it’s like the woman can speak to people through telepathy.” She shook her head and chuckled. “This really must be the most boring town on earth, for everyone to stop what they’re doing in hopes of being in the local paper.”

“Stardom is an alluring mistress,” Saul replied.

What the townsfolk were doing here at the temple was the creation of Saul’s plan to weed out Jeffrey’s hunter and protect his friend at the same time. He knew the residents of Zion were enamored with the idea of him living in their town, and he was betting that they would rise to the occasion to protect one of their own. It was the small town way, love thy neighbor, and Saul knew that in Zion the term took on an entirely new meaning.

The trick to all of this was to get Abby to do the introductions and prepare the community for the appearance of Saul so that it did not startle the crowd into hysteria. He was about to reveal himself to the entire town, small as it was, and the last thing he wanted was to frighten anyone. He needed Abby and Melissa to sooth the citizens of Zion into believing that the person they were about to meet, even though dead, was harmless to them because he thought of them as his neighbors and only wanted them to think of him the same way.

Abby peeked out from behind the curtain and said to Saul, “Well, there’s no time like the present.” She smiled an unsure smile and said, “Let’s go, Melissa, I’m going to need your help with this.”

The two women stated their case to the people of Zion, telling them of the existence of an actual ghost in their midst, that the rumors had been true, and more importantly, he was once a famous celebrity. That was the extra little kicker that Melissa decided to throw in, because she knew better than anyone the town’s desire to have celebrity in their midst.

They talked Saul up as a benevolent, talented, and caring spirit who wanted nothing more than to be able to live among them and have some human contact again after all these years of solitude due to his current condition. They spoke of how Jeffrey was aware of Saul’s existence and was even friends with the ghost. Abby informed them of the madman who was in their town stalking Jeffrey to bring him to a violent end, and she said the whole town had a responsibility to look out for the newest member of the community. It was their solemn oath as Jews to defend the life of a fellow Jew, to never let the anti-Semite (she was quite convincing that Grecko was an anti-Semite) do harm to the man who they had welcomed with open arms.

Melissa made her case as to how she had known Saul for almost two years and that he was kind and loving, funny and talented, and above everything else, he was loyal to a fault. As she spoke, Abby called upon some of the men in attendance to hand out copies of the pages from the book Saul had found to the residents of Zion.

She explained this was a crash course in the Yiddish language, and the town had exactly twenty-four hours to become fluent if they were to become successful. The plan was that they would become commandos in the fight to protect Jeffrey, and they were to converse via walkie-talkies in the foreign tongue so that, if captured, Grecko would have no idea what they were talking about.

A murmur of excitement rose from the crowd at the notion of participating in such a covert operation and also of becoming fluent in Yiddish. Everyone who was anyone knew that you could not consider yourself a true Jew until you had mastered the original language of love.

A call from the crowd started for Saul to make his appearance. They had heard so much about him at this point that they were all in agreement; it was time for the ghost to make himself visible to all so they could size him up for themselves.

Saul stood in the back, listening to everything that was going on, and began to feel a bit faint. Or was it just drama? He took a couple of unnecessary breaths and turned to show the town the true meaning of fabulous.

The lights began to go dim in the temple and odd green phosphorescence filled the room. A sudden chill filled the air, and there were murmurings of fear and confusion, which were quickly quelled by Abby. She stated it was completely harmless, and before anyone had the chance to change his or her mind about helping the ghost who had come to ask for help for the newest member of the community, Saul appeared.

Jaws dropped, a couple of people jumped from their seats in spite of themselves, and everyone was taken aback by the sight of a six and a half foot tall man with a five o’clock shadow wearing a dress standing in front of them.

Abby quickly introduced him as Saul Milick, and Melissa quickly followed with, “But if you’re more comfortable, you can call him Esther Feltcher.”

“But if you do that,” Saul started in that deep raspy voice of his, “make sure you treat me like a lady.”

The silence was broken only by the sounds of seats creaking as the citizens retook their seats, and Saul continued, “Who wants to help hunt a putz?”

Chapter Forty-Six: Devil among Us

 

The creatures surrounded Louis Grecko in his hotel room, taunting him, daring him to do something about the despair that his life was now in, pleading with him to go on with what he had come to Zion to do. But the problem was that Louis was having trouble remembering what it was that he was supposed to do.

Everything was blurry to him. There was no cohesiveness to his thoughts; everything was clouded. He struggled to recapture the former self that now only seemed to be a fading fingerprint, and found that the more he searched for those clues, the farther away they drifted from him.

He watched as one of the bunnies came closer and left an envelope on his lap. He reached down through what felt like rubber arms and opened it to see what was inside. His heart skipped a beat, and he recognized the picture of his mother lying in a crumpled mess on the living room floor of the apartment they had shared for so many years. He struggled to understand how it was possible that these creatures had pictures of his mother, when he was certain nobody else had been in the apartment when he had killed her, when he had followed the words like the music had instructed him, and when he had finally offered himself to the Way as its Messiah.

The sudden rush of images disturbed him as he watched the events of his life fly by in a swirl of places, people, and things, and finally came to a rest in the office of Heinrich Schultz. The strange little man was with him, laughing at Louis and mocking his dead mother. Louis wanted to tear the man apart, but found that his arms were of no use to him.

Heinrich’s cat strode across the room and came to a rest on his lap and looked at him accusingly, if that was indeed possible for a cat to do, and it showed the same smile that he had seen the bunny give him in town, a mouth full of teeth that was more human than animal.

These images were getting more and more terrifying to Louis, and he struggled to find a way to get away from them. His life was spiraling down a deep, dark hole that he could not climb out of. The Way had abandoned him, and he no longer had any guidance as to what to do next. His instruction had always come from the music, his order of conduct had always been from the Way, and the steadying factor in his life had always been his mother.

He awoke with a start and looked around the room to try to get his bearings. He had obviously been dreaming, and the images scared him and talked to him of his mistakes. Louis was being punished by the Way for acting without the proper guidance. He should have never killed his mother; it was not her time to go. The plan was for her to be there to anoint her son as the new son of the Way and for Louis to spread the word across the country and eventually the world.

His mother had been the only stabilizer in an otherwise unstable life, and when Louis killed her he left himself unprotected and unable to accept all of the truths that the music and the Way showed him. She had been his buffer, his filter. Now, with her gone, Louis had to navigate through the waters of confusion and fear while trying to maintain some semblance of sanity.

He knew the creatures were close by; they were still in the room with him, and now they were beginning to give instructions of their own. He could hear their voices as faint whisperings floating on the wind. They wanted Louis to continue the work he had started with his mother, only now
they
would be the stabilizing force in his life. As long as he listened to them, he would be fine.

Their first order of business was for Louis to find the sheriff of this town and to show him the Way before he had a chance to stop him. He was to go and seek out Heinrich and his companion next and do with them as he pleased in appreciation for all that they had done for him and his mother over the years; their thanks would be painful and very bloody.

Finally, the bunnies told him of Jeffrey David Rothstein. The name itself enraged Louis. His life had not been the same since he had heard that name for the first time. Everything had changed—and not for the better. If it had not been for Rothstein, his mother would still be alive. It was Rothstein who had snuck into the apartment when she was alone, it was Rothstein who had violated her defenseless body, and it was Rothstein who had snapped her neck and left her for dead like an animal.

Louis would certainly take his time, when it arrived, in dealing with Rothstein.

* * *

 

Sheriff Pitts left the room of Heinrich Schultz after a few more hours gathering details about the man he claimed was in his town to do harm to the citizens. Finding this man was top priority to him right now, but he was also thinking toward the future and how he would have to deal with the billionaire and his associate.

There was something about the two that he did not like and definitely did not trust. They were taking him for a fool, and that was unacceptable. He might not be from a big, flashy city like New York, but he was not a fool and did not appreciate being treated as such.

No, once he caught this man who they had told him about, he would find a way, any way, to press charges against Schultz and teach him that he could not buy everyone. This was still his town, and he planned on protecting it with his life’s blood.

He never felt the blade pierce through his back and out his chest. He was more surprised than anything else to see it glimmering red in the light of the early evening. He made no attempt to remove the blade, and actually felt a sensation of giddiness that he could not explain. Something about all of this was very amusing to him.

Just a few hours earlier, he had been lamenting his not becoming the new cantor of Zion, losing to Rufus O’Neal, now he stared at his own mortality as his life slowly dripped off the end of the blade onto the floor below. He turned his head and saw a large man, nearly seven feet tall, smiling at him. The man gently pulled the blade from the sheriff’s back and wiped the blade clean on his jacket.

Malcolm Pitts saw the smear of blood running down the arm of his jacket and felt anger at the man for getting blood on his uniform. It was funny to him that he should be upset by something like that. He looked the killer in the eyes and tried to speak, but no words came.

The big man put one giant finger on the sheriff’s lips and simply said, “Shhh.”

SheriffPitts nodded his head in understanding and dropped to his knees as his wound continued to bleed freely. He suddenly felt very cold and alone, and this frightened him. He thought of his wife and how she would look at his funeral, and he thought of Sean and how he had failed to ever get close to the boy.

Louis Grecko walked behind him and snapped his neck.

Sheriff Malcolm Pitts’s body lay in a broken pile of limbs and warm blood. The blood was steaming in the chill of the evening.

One of the bunnies approached Louis and ordered him to follow. There were more people to kill, and it was going to be a busy night.

* * *

 

Heinrich Schultz watched in horror as Louis Grecko stabbed and then killed the sheriff of Zion. It was purely by chance that Schultz saw anything at all. He just happened to be walking past the window and decided to look out from behind the curtain. It was at that moment when he saw the blade explode through the man’s chest.

He quickly got Mendel’s attention, and the two of them watched as Louis seemed to toy with the sheriff, mocking him as the man struggled for what little air he could still breathe. Fujikawa ran to his travel bag, removed a small revolver, checked to make sure it was loaded, and tucked it into the front of his pants. He pulled out his case with various butterfly knives of different sizes and checked to make certain that each one responded as it should.

The two of them exchanged worried glances, knowing that Louis was most likely there because the two of them, and that his next victims would most definitely be them, unless they did something to prevent it.

Mendel reached for the phone and found there was no signal. Louis was very thorough in seeing that his victims were safely caught in their snare and that they had no way of escape. He peeked out from behind the curtain and saw nobody, only the fallen body of Malcolm Pitts.

Fujikawa fumbled for his cell phone and dialed 911, hoping it would connect him to the local authorities. The phone rang and continued to ring without anyone answering. Finally, a recorded voice answered, “Zion emergency services are not available at this time due to the observance of the Sabbath. If this is an actual emergency, I’m sure God would not mind you driving to the hospital. Shalom.”

Mendel threw the phone to the ground in disgust and called for Heinrich to come close. “There’s nobody answering in this fucking town. We have to try to get to the car.”

Schultz nodded in agreement, and the two of them headed for the door, expecting Louis Grecko to burst through at any moment. It was very quiet, which was disconcerting to say the least, and Fujikawa slowly opened the door to the hotel room. He looked out in the direction of the limousine and saw two feet lying down next to the front bumper with blood around them. Louis had obviously killed their driver and was on the move again.
No matter,
Mendel tried to think positively,
I know how to drive
.

He turned to tell Heinrich to follow, when a large hand, the size of a baseball mitt, grabbed him around the throat and pulled him from the room. Mendel fired off two shots wildly, hoping to hit his target, but he knew he had missed with both of them. His air supply was being cut off, and he was struggling to pry the vice-like hand from around his throat to no avail. He felt Heinrich grab him by the ankle and pull to save his companion’s life, but Louis was too powerful. Heinrich, who was fearful for his own safety, was not willing to expose himself to the madman he had unleashed.

He lost his grip, and Fujikawa disappeared from view. He heard two more gunshots and then silence. He hoped that perhaps Mendel had been successful in his aim, but he was not about to risk exposing himself to Louis in order to find out. He waited in eerie silence and prayed Mendel had been successful, but he knew Louis was too gifted at what he did to be taken out by the little man with nothing more than a gun and some knives. He held his breath to keep himself from shaking and hoped that when the end came, it came quickly.

He heard screaming beyond the door out in the street, and then what sounded like snowballs hitting the walls of his room. There had been no snow this season, and when he had last been outside it hadn’t even seemed cold enough.

The screaming grew louder, and Heinrich could clearly make out that the words were in a different language.
Is that Yiddish?
he thought.

* * *

 


Ver dershtikt!
” Mayor Baker yelled as he threw another matzo ball at the large man who they had just seen kill the little Asian fellow. The citizens were doing their best to maintain the protocol that Saul had dictated by speaking only in Yiddish, but some of them were struggling with their phrases and words. The mayor had properly used the term “Choke on it” and was reloading from the bucket of matzo balls donated by the Country Home.


Mer vi dayn kop zol od nit onvern!
” yelled Rufus O’Neal. His was a perfect example of saying the wrong thing, as what he said was literally, “May I not lose anything more than your head.”

A small crowd had formed and the walkie-talkies proved to be of great use, except for the fact that the citizens confused their words and phrases and most of them were just insulting each other.

Cries of
goniff, meshuganah, shnorer, schmendrick,
and
schmuck
flew about and almost all of them were used out of proper context. The real miracle here was that a fight did not break out.

Louis covered himself in anger at the barrage of flying dumplings and looked back at the room to see if Heinrich was still there. He watched in deep anger as the limousine pulled out of the parking lot with Schultz behind the wheel, heading in the direction of Rothstein’s house.

This will work
, Louis thought. The two men he wanted dead the most would soon be in the same location, and all Louis had to do was to get to them before these goddamned townspeople could warn them. He spotted his car on the other side of the lot and took cover to make his way there without being hit by another flying dumpling of death.

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