The Dorvak Reckoning 4
Apollo Beach, just south of Tampa, Florida.
Grayson Spender, M.D., PhD, tried to keep his voice normal. His hands shook as he held the payphone
”Yes, Mother...it is quite a prang up. But there’s nothing to be done...the part won’t be ready ’til tomorrow.”
Back in the beach rental, Briar sighed. In their haste in leaving Vegas, her son had left an important plumbing part for the foot bath. They needed it fully running to interrogate Cassie, and to perhaps free Briar from the Count’s psychic assaults.
“This keeps happening, dear. You should call first before making the trip. I don’t like you out there, exposed.....you should just come back, go back for the part later.”
“And drive all this way again.....no. I’m just gong to sleep in the car again. I promise, Mother, I’ll be very careful.....I always am.”
There was a long pause. Briar knew her son was doing something he did not want to admit doing. But she also knew how much of his life he’d sacrificed for her and Armand’s fight against the Count. At least he didn’t have much money to get in trouble with. She sighed.
”All right, son. Just be careful. He’s hunting us now, remember?”
”I’ll be the soul of discretion, Mother, I promise.”
After a few more words, Spender hung up the pay phone. He looked across US Highway 301 and saw the garish neon sign blazing in the night.
”Foxes’ Den Gentlemen’s Club”. A neon beauty with fox ears was also on the sign.
Spender almost got run over by a tanker truck crossing the highway.
Kimmy Sue (a stage name) rubbed her aching feet through her fishnets. She was in the club dressing room. The door opened, and the room was filled with loud music from the club. Another dancer stuck her head in.
”Kimmy, your boyfriend’s back.”
”Stop, Verna, he’s sweet. And he’s really helped me.” She displayed her ruby fingernails. “I haven’t bitten them since he started coming here.”
”Yeah.....I bet he just wants to help you when your under. Just remember, Joey’s watching you.”
”Joey can shove it.” Kimmy Sue put her heels back on. It was another of Joey’s stupid rules. The petite red head hated this joint, and dreamed of being hired by one of the swanky Tampa clubs. But she needed to lose ten or fifteen before she tried out for those places. That was something else her new “boy friend” could help her with. In the meantime, he should be good for a few bucks. Plus, his trances were better than and cheaper than quaaludes.
She fixed her bikini top and left the dressing room. As usual, the thick cigarette smoke burned her eyes at first. She saw the Aussie scientist in his garish Hawaiian shirt standing by the entrance. She ran up and gave him a nice hug. He quickly pushed her away, she’d forgotten he was quirky about being touched. It wasn’t that he didn’t let her touch him, he just needed plenty of warm up and privacy.
Spender saw it was her and looked embarrassed. He had to shout to be heard over the music
”Sorry, Luv....you just startled me a bit.” He pointedly looked towards the club’s V.I.P. room where they’d have some privacy.
Kimmy Sue looked sad. She carefully leaned in so she could be heard.
”About that, Honey........someone snitched to Joey, the manager. He said no more trading V.I.P. room for therapy....I gotta charge you fifty bucks to get in, then you gotta buy two bottles of champagne......sorry.”
Spender looked like someone had cancelled his birthday. He took out his wallet, and it confirmed what he knew, he had just enough cash to get the plumbing part with a little extra for gas and meals. His shoulders slumped. Who knew when he’d get to come back and see Kimmy Sue.
The stripper was genuinely touched by how sad he looked. She leaned in again.
”Look, Honey...you don’t gotta tip me after, just keep putting me under. You make me feel so good.” She saw her words had no effect. She thought for a minute. Suddenly, an idea hit her.
”A rich doctor like you.....you gotta have credit cards.....just go over to the bar, they’ll do a cash advance. It’s perfectly safe.”
”I.....I don’t think so, Luv.” The credit cards were supposed to be for emergencies only.
She persisted. “When the bill comes in, it just says FD Industries, Inc. I have a lawyer customer who does it all the time, ’cause of his wife. Anyway, I’m on stage next. Think about it.” She leaned in closer so her nipples brushed his midriff. “You know how much I love being in your power. Just think about all of the things you can order me to do.“
Spender watched her dance to “Nights and White Satin.” The Moody Blues tune was only half complete when he suddenly said “Fuck it” and walked over to the bar, credit card in hand.
Peter and Cassie joined Briar on the beach. The younger woman, wearing cut offs and a tie dye positioned herself to have the best view of their surroundings. Briar was in jeans and a turtleneck sweater. Petey in jeans and tee shirt, sat next to his new aunt. After a few seconds, he spoke to her.
”You’re worried about Uncle Grayson, aren’t you?“
She looked at the boy and smiled.
”You remind me so much of your great uncle.....the way you put things together.”
Petey smiled at the compliment. “A great detective does not see things as he believes they should be, but as they are.”
Briar laughed prettily. “Good Lord in heaven.....you could be him.”
”So....did you and Uncle Armand ever....you know...get together.....marry, I mean?”
Briar let out a long sigh. “No.....he was.....is my great love....but no. You see, Peter, you have a keen mind like his, except......you have something he didn’t....you can connect with other people. Armand never could. He......was missing something....the thing that makes us truly human. Oh....I do think he loved me....in his own way. And, we were certainly more than friends. But in the end, we accepted we would never be together, not truly.“
”So Uncle Grayson....he’s not Armand Dupuis’ son?”
”No. No, he’s not. I met his father in Australia, during the war....the second one.”
“Were you there on a case? With Uncle Armand?”
”No...Armand sat that one out....he was too frail by then. Remember, I got to drink from the hypnotic fountain of youth, not him. I still looked and felt like a thirty year old. For my poor Armand, well, too many years, too many beatings, too much torture by the Count. I truly felt alone. Inspector Sanderson was long dead, gassed in the trenches of the First War. Armand was fading. I thought I had to take on the Count alone. Until....that is...I went to Australia.“
“My dad told me he spent time there during the war....after the Battle of Peleliu....”
”Yes, Peter, he did.”
Melbourne, Australia
January 1945
The table of five United States Marines were so raucous most of the locals had left the pub. The exception was an old gent at the bar. The Publican tending the bar watched as one of the drunker Americans staggered to his feet to make a slurred toast. He wore the chevrons of a sergeant.
”Gentlemen......SHUT YOUR PIE HOLES ASSHOLES....that’s better.......where the fuck was I.......Gentlemen..I give you the hero of Peleliu Island, holder of the Navy Fucking Cross, Gunnery Sergeant.....Excuse me.....soon to be Lieutenant Second Fucking Class....John Dupuis. Let’s pay our respects Devil Dog style....”
The drunken marines responded by yelling something that sounded like “Uhrah!” They finished the toast by barking and slapping the table. The guest of honor, new medal hanging from his neck, took it all in, too drunk to respond.
The old duffer stood. He was once a tall powerfully built man, but now was bent and whithered. He was nearly bald, his face framed by fierce white mutton chops. Pinned to his lapel were service ribbons, marking him as a veteran. He held up his sherry glass.
”To our gallant American Allies.....May I be so bold to buy you lads a round?”
That and the man’s ribbons broke the ice. Soon he sat amidst them next regaling them with stories of Gallipoli and the Boer War. More importantly, he paid for round after round. He tried several times to engage Johnny, but the young man seemed too intoxicated.
The fun was finally halted when the Publican called out:
“Time, Gents.....Bottoms up.......drink up.”
The marines cried out in drunken protest.
”Sorry Gents, it’s the law.”
The grousing got louder and more obscene.
The old veteran calmed everyone down with hand gestures.
”Now friends, don’t blame him for a stupid bleeding law. Besides, strapping young warriors like you lads should be someplace with softer company...if you catch me drift.”
That had the marines’ attention. The toaster spoke.
“You got a place in mind, old timer?”
”As a matter a fact....I do, sergeant. My good friend Tilly Barrington has just opened a Melbourne branch of her famous Sidney establishment. Tilly and I go way back. One call from me....she put on quite the party for you heroes......at a discount, I’m sure.”
One of the more sober marines spoke up.
“We’ll have to get a couple of cabs. How far is it? We gotta be back to Camp by 0:900.”
The Publican answered. “Miss Tilly’s is an easy walk. Crickey, I envy you gents. Miss Tilly has the most beautiful sheilas in the city.”
For the first time, Johnny spoke. He turned to the old gentleman, and spoke in a parade ground voice, complete with a bad English accent.
”Sergeant Major....Form the regiment. We advance...to Miss Tilly’s!”
The veteran snapped a salute. “Yes, Sir!”
The table burst out laughing.
The marines staggered to their feet. The old man shepherded them to the door.
”You boys wait for me outside while I settle up with the proprietor here.”
As the marines left, he turned to the Publican, his face deadly serious, his voice a hiss.
”Make the call now.”
A half a mile away, Tara, a beautiful young woman in a silk dressing gown, answered the phone and listened.
She murmured “Yes, Master.”
She listen for a time, then hung up the receiver. She padded to the house’s sitting room, where four other lingerie clad beauties sat with their heads bowed and their eyes closed. A record was turning on the Victrola, playing a music box arrangement.
All the women were barefoot.
Tara spoke.
”Open your eyes, ladies, and focus on my words. Barefoot ladies, are you with me?
The ladies straightened in their seats, opened their eyes, and turned toward Tara. They answered in unison.
”We are with you, and we are your barefooted servants, Miss Tara.”
Tara continued:
“The Master and his enemies will soon be here. Remember his instructions. All of the Master’s enemies must die. All except for this man.”
She picked a portrait photo of Johnny Dupuis, taken soon after his enlistment.
“In each bedroom, there are two long hair pins. The red pin is poisonous. The black pin is impregnated with the Master’s paralyzing elixir. This man gets the black Pin, his friends the red.”
”This man gets the black pin, his friends the red.” The women repeated robotically.
“This man is not otherwise to be injured. The Master wishes to attend to him personally....and in his own time. Is that understood, ladies?”
”Yes, Miss Tara.”
With that, Tara sat on an overstuffed chair, and soon her face was as blank as her sister slaves.
Across the street, in a dark, second floor bedroom, Briar lay across a bed watching the street through an open window. She wore coveralls, with a holstered revolver. Her brilliantly blonde hair was tied in an utilitarian bun.
She heard the door open, then booted feet stumbling.
”Bloody Hell!” The voice was young, male, and Aussie.
Briar turned with a glare.
“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” she hissed.
The young Australian Army officer held up Briar’s shoe, a sock stuffed inside it. He joined her on the bed.
He whispered: “Sorry about that, Miss Gasdsen. Didn’t expect you to lose your shoes. Sure you’re not an Aussie Girl?”
Briar blushed, hyper aware of the near intimate closeness of their bodies and the flirtation in his voice. She whispered back: “Old habit.” She changed the subject. “I truly appreciate all of the support your government is providing.”
”Well, General Horroch says we owe it to Mr. Dupuis for what he and his friends did for Australia back in ’88. (“The Mysteries of Armand Dupuis #13: The Case of The Mungoon-Gali.”). Besides, you having a letter from your President didn’t hurt your cause, either.”
She smiled. “Franklin’s a dear, but it was Eleanor who made him write it.”
”Franklin? Eleanor?” He sounded impressed.
”The Roosevelts are old family friends.”
”Right......the ‘Case Of the Barefooted Murderess’. I’m a big fan. I’m glad that the Roosevelts don’t carry a grudge, considering that your......granny .....I’m guessing she was your grandmother ....tried to kill Teddy.”
Briar grew defensive. “Since you’ve read my........my grandmother’s book.....You know it wasn’t her fault....she was hypnotized, controlled by our quarry tonight.”
Letting the Lieutenant think she was her own granddaughter was certainly easier than explaining how she was an eighty year old woman.
Sensing he’d stuck a nerve, the young officer changed the subject.
“You really think he’ll take the bait?”
”That, I have no doubt. A relative of Armand’s so near would be irresistible to the bastard. I just hope I haven’t sacrificed Armand’s nephew. Poor boy doesn’t know how he’s more in danger now than he ever was on Peleliu”
”We got men in position...as soon as you confirm the target, the raid will begin. The Count won’t know what hit him. He’s got a lot to answer for hereabouts. Don’t worry about your Marine, I won’t let anything happen to him, you have my word.”
Briar appraised at the Australian and came to a quick decision.
”Listen.......Lieutenant......there is a particular danger for me should I be in the Dark Count’s presence...and I need insurance.......someone I can trust.“. She explained what she needed him to be ready to do.
”I.....I don’t know, Miss, I don’t feel comfortable with this. Not at all. There’s the bloke downstairs. You ought to ask one of your own countrymen....an American officer like him.”
”The fact it makes you uncomfortable makes me trust you. I don’t know why......but I think Captain Flanagan would be very comfortable with the power, and therefore not worthy of my trust.”
”That’s not fair......He seems nice enough a fellow, despite being Army Intelligence. I’m sure you can trust him.”
Briar stood her ground. “I am asking you, Lieutenant Spender.”
She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He couldn’t refuse her.
The Count felt like an Australian sheep dog herding the rowdy group of marines through the blacked out streets. What worried him the most was their drunken loudness. The last thing he needed would be some local calling the police.
The group turned the final corner, and the ersatz bordello, a large Victorian manor, stood in view. He smiled. He was so close to one of his greatest quests. Armand Dupuis might be beyond his vengeful reach, but the Great Detective would go to his grave knowing his nephew, his blood, was tortured to death by him, Count Ernesto Clement Spenzini.
Yes, killing the young marine and hurting Armand Dupuis will be glorious. But he wouldn’t be done. Briar Gasdsen was still out there. Oh how delicious it would be when he owned that treacherous bitch once more. Only after that triumph would he end the painful alchemic treatments prolonging his life. They were the same elixirs he’d incorporated into Dorvak’s process. But without the balm of hypnosis, the treatments were agony.
Every step closer to the house made the Count more elated. Then, with his keen peripheral vision, he spied the flame of a cigarette at the corner of a nearby house. Watching it without turning his head, he saw the spot of red light fall to the ground.
He carefully reached into his pocket.
Spender pointed. “Someone’s coming.”
The old man and the five marines were making their way to the house across the way.
Briar focused her gaze on the elderly man leading the group. What drew her attention was his white muttonchops.
“Do it......it’s him....I’m sure of it.” She no longer whispered.
Spender put the whistle to his lips.
At the shrill sound, the neighborhood was bathed in light. Aussie military police flooded ithe street from every direction.
Briar was already up and almost out the door her revolver in hand. Spender got up and cried out:
”Miss Gasdsen..........your shoes!“
“I’m faster without them” she called as she exited.
The Count grasped the needled ampule in his pocket. He hesitated as he was surrounded by armed men pointing guns at him. He new this would be a fateful step.....one he could never undo. He made up his mind, and jabbed the needle into his thigh. A military policeman was in the process of shackling him when the potion took effect. His body violently spasmed, startling the soldiers.
A familiar feminine voice could be heard from an open window across the street. Could it be.....Could it be her? Did he have enough remaining life to still triumph?
Then he heard the Target speak, his words growing a bit more sober.
“Hey.....assholes...He’s having a heart attack......somebody call a doctor.
He fell to the street. A large man dressed as an American officer arrived.
“Marines, listen up. I’m Captain Daniel Flanagan...and you are now in my custody. We need to get you guys out of here.”
Johnny had knelt by the Count.
”But.......”
Flanagan pointed at his face. “I don’t give a fuck about your medal, sonny, that was an order. Get your ass moving or you...and your buddies here, are going to be in a world of hurt.”
Johnny looked at his friends and slowly stood.
The Count’s spasms began to slow. He knew he was fading. He was so close...
Then he saw a pair of pale, feminine bare feet running on the street towards him. Yes.....come closer, he prayed.
An Australian medic was now tending him. “I....I think he’s a goner...I can’t find any pulse and he ain’t breathing.”, said the young man.
Briar stopped as if terrified by the frail corpse. As she stared, she holstered her gun. Finally, she spoke to Spender.
“I have to sure.” She slowly knelt, and reached under the Count’s chin. Peeling the false skin up, she revealed the burn ravaged half of his face.
“It’s him.”, she simply stated. “But we must take care. He’s the master of arcane chemistry....this ‘heart attack’ might be a ruse.”
“We’ll get him to hospital....they’ll make sure. Get a stretcher, private.”
The Count knew he had few precious moments of consciousness. Look at me Briar....look at me, he willed.
Briar knew she should feel triumphant. Here was the body of the man who’d nearly tortured Armand to death....the devil who had made her poison her beloved Singh. But, in her moment of triumph, she felt nothing but emptiness. The thought that there could be someone so motivated by hate.....even in death his eyes still held a psychotic fire. His eyes......
That’s it, he thought. Look at my eyes, Briar....look deep into my eyes.
In her lethargic mind, she heard the tinkling of a music box arrangement. The Count’s mangled countenance slowly changed to the face of a young Armand.
After a moment, she slowly and softly murmured.
”Yes, Armand I am with you, and I am your barefooted servant”
Spender turned and said “Did you say something, Miss Gasdsen?”
Briar looked up.
”Sorry...Just talking to myself....where are the marines?
”They’re in the house getting debriefed by Flanagan.“ A soldier came up, and Spender turned his attention to him.
Briar looked back down at the Count, as if he was speaking to her.
Spender was busy coordinating his men, and didn’t notice Briar bend down and tenderly kiss the Count’s lips.
To her, she was kissing her dream Armand, still young and handsome.
“Yes....Darling. I understand and I will obey.”, she whispered.
She stood and slowly headed for the house. Spender turned towards her.
“Hey....where are you going...”
She stopped and spoke without turning.
”I have to tell John Dupuis something.”
She began moving again.
There was something off about her voice and posture. But Spender hadn’t heard any music box music that would have triggered her.
That’s when he noticed her holster flap was open, the revolver in her hand at her side.
Briar was nearly to the porch steps when Spender ran in front of her, his hands out to her. He stared, fascinated by her blank, unblinking expression.
”What are you doing, Miss Gasdsen?”
She pulled her gun and pointed it at his chest.
”Get out of my way, there is some things I must do.”
Briar was in a quandary. Her dream Armand hadn’t given any commands regarding Spender, only the nephew and herself. She liked the young Australian.....he reminded her of the handsome New York detective who had tried in vain to win her her hand.
But, now he was in the way. She switched off the safety.
Spender knew he was about to be shot. He strained to remember the lyrics. He began to sing.
”Daisy....Daisy....give me your answer do. I’m half crazy over the thought of you. It won’t be a stylish marriage. I can’t afford a carriage. But you’ll look sweet, upon the seat....of a bicycle built for two.”
Her eyes were now entirely focused on his face, though the gun remained pointed at his heart.
Captain Flanagan stepped out onto the patio. Seeing Briar, he pulled his service pistol.
”What the fuck is going on here, Lieutenant?”
Spender ignored the American officer.
”Barefoot Briar, are you with me?” He prayed he got the words right.
”Yes, Lieutenant.....I am with you and I am your barefooted servant.”
”I....I want you to put the safety on and slowly hand me your pistol.”
Briar complied. Once free of the gun, her arm dropped to her side.
Flanagan joined him. “She’s really hypnotized....I’d heard rumors about the Count.....read the stories...but this.....this is incredible. Make her do something....anything.
But Spender had had enough of being a hypnotist.
“Wake up, Briar.”
Briar blinked, then shook her head. She looked at her surroundings in confusion. Then she saw Spender was holding her pistol. Suddenly, she realized what must have happened.
”No.......no.....not again......”. She screamed, and fainted.
For the second time, hypnotism had put Briar in the hospital. This time, it was the psychiatric ward of an Australian military hospital.
There was a knock, and Spender came in with a bunch of flowers. She again was reminded of young Inspector Sanderson.
“See you’re up and about....the doc told me you’re getting released today.”
”Lieutenant......I want to thank you....you kept me from doing something horrible. I guess the old bastard had tricks up his sleeve up to the end. Where is he....his body.”
”Buried...I watched it myself.“
“And, Johnny?”
“Sergeant Dupuis and his pals are all back with their unit. They were so pissed...sorry...I mean intoxicated.....they don’t remember many details.”
”What about the ladies......the hypnotized prostitutes?”
”Somehow your Captain Flanagan got them released to his custody. They’ve been shipped to the States. Don’t seem right, them being Australians. By the way, you were right about Flanagan being a tosser. We were alone yesterday, and he starts pressuring me to give him your hypnotic trigger.”
She frowned, and he continued.
”Don’t worry. I told him to go fuck himself.”
There was a shocked silence, then both burst out in gales of laughter. Once that subsided, he said:
”You know, I got some leave coming.......my folks got a big house on the coast, near the ocean, you’d be welcome. You’d like it there.....you wouldn’t have to wear your shoes except for Sunday Mass.”
”Why ask, Lieutenant, just sing the song and order me.”
He looked hurt. When he spoke, it was with uncharacteristic intensity.
“I promise you, Miss Gadsen, if you let me, I will never let a man do that to you ever again.“
Briar was dumbstruck. Before she knew it, she was pulling Spender onto the hospital bed, kissing him.
Isla Garda, Florida
1972.
Peter and Briar sat silent for a while after she finished the story. He saw tracks of tears on her face.
“I had fifteen good years married to Reggie, Grayson’s father. Then he got cancer of the brain.
“The Count?“
“Over time, I grew convinced he was not dead. Reggie thought me daft, until we dug up the grave. The casket was filled with sand bags.”
“Thank you for telling me. I know it’s not easy for you, Aunt Briar. But you had your reasons for telling me, didn’t you.”
”Like I said....you’ve got a keen mind, Peter. Yes. I told you for two critical reasons. First of all, I came so close to killing your father. I know you want to believe you’re safe with me...with Cassie. We do love you. But all it would take is a bit of music and some words, and we will gladly murder you. You must always be on guard. You’re the third person in twenty seven years I’ve told my real hypnotic trigger., the third soul I felt I could trust with it. Remember it.....in case.”
”The second reason, Aunt Briar?”
Her face grew uncharacteristically grim.
”You need to understand our enemy. He’s not motivated by the quest for power or wealth. He has no need for any of Dorvak’s papers.......he is the coauthor of the Process. No....there is but one treasure he seeks....Final revenge.......the agonizing death of all of Armand’s descendants including you and Trevor.
And I’m sure he has something worse planned for me.
Hatred, pure hatred, is what I believe keeps him somehow alive. This madness will never truly end until he’s finally in Hell. Until then, there will be no peace for you, your mother, or your adopted brother. I’m sorry this burden is falling on you, Peter. It’s not at all fair. But that is what we must do. The Count must truly die.”