Killer of Killers (12 page)

“Dr. Bernstein,” Trent echoed. “The same
Bernstein that Stiles killed?”

“Yeah, Dr. Bernstein. I told you his twin
daughters were Global Girls, remember? They hooked us up.”

Trent recalled their talk at the club. “You
said that Flint’s wife was a Global Girl, too, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Did she have any of this stuff?”

“Sure, but she wasn’t supposed to, either.
She left the Global Girls just after I got there to marry Flint. He
was in the treatment program.”

“Stiles and Flint. Were they using the drug
as a bodybuilding steroid, or were they injured somehow?”

“I don’t know about all of that,” Susie said.
“All I know is Flint killed her right after she married him.”

“Did they meet at the club?”

“Yeah, she was the most popular girl when I
started.”

Trent thought about Soriah’s reference. “Why
are the people using this stuff called Eternals?”

“An Eternal is someone who gets treatment
without ever stopping.”

“For what purpose?”

Susie took a deep breath and continued. “They
say that one dose can heal you from minor injuries, like it did for
my lip and the cuts on your face. But they’ve been studying the
effects of indefinite treatments. Everyone knows about how steroids
build up your body. That’s old news. The secret that they’re
working on now is...”

Susie hesitated, as if unwanted listeners
were present. Then she whispered, “I’m really not supposed to be
talking about it.”

Trent wasn’t ready to change the subject.
“You already said you’re not even supposed to have any. What if
Soriah found out? What would he do?”

“Probably send his Specials. But they’ll have
to kill me before I let them take it away.”

“Kill you? You can’t mean it.” Trent shook
his head. “Look, Susie,” he said with a soft but firm voice. “What
is this stuff? Is it some kind of injection or what?”

“Yes, but the needles are clean. You use them
one time. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Okay, I’m not worried, but I need to know
what this treatment program is all about. Why can’t you tell
me?”

“I’ll tell you all about it,” Susie
declared.

“You will?”

“Yeah, I was going to anyway.”

Before she could start, Trent detected an
acrid smell. “Something’s burning,” he spouted, turning his head in
search of smoke.

“Our dinner!” Susie leaped away in a mad dash
to the kitchen.

Once she saved her meal, Susie displayed the
skill of a master chef. “Sit down, baby. I hope you’re hungry, cuz
I was makin’ this for you. It’s time you learned this little lady
can do a few other things besides lap dance.”

Trent was famished, and he chose to postpone
his quest for answers. It was time to relax and appreciate the
feast Susie cooked for him without even knowing if he’d be there to
eat it.

Susie lit candles and decked the table with
roses clipped, she confessed, from the garden outside the building.
The red tablecloth was imported from Syria, she explained, even as
Trent thought it looked a lot like the ones in the room where they
met. Soft music set the mood, and the view from the window
presented a golden New York skyline.

A silent diner was Trent, but Susie loved to
talk. She revealed that the Global Room had been shut down
temporarily as a result of yesterday’s incident. When questioned by
police, the girls concurred that Flint was sleeping at his table,
as usual, when their shift ended. Whatever happened after they
departed was anyone’s guess.

It was the clean-up crew who discovered the
dead men inside the wrecked room, and that’s all they knew.
Nameless administrators controlled the ensuing investigation. The
official report claimed the famous actor choked to death while
under the influence of illicit drugs. Topu Tacau’s unfortunate
demise never made the news.

Trent learned Susie’s
Q
stood for
Quinn
, and she began her career at a strip club in lower
Manhattan. Her dazzling appearance and superb stage presence
convinced a Flip Flop recruiter she belonged with the best. Being
invited to join the renowned Global Girls was an honor, and the big
money made it an easy decision.

After some disastrous relationships with the
wrong men, Susie decided to swing the other way when she met Connie
Perez. A few months into the relationship, Connie proved no less
possessive than the men Susie had dated. The Flip Flop management
made it clear they didn’t like the jealous Latina. Too many times
she made a nuisance of herself by hanging around the club,
disapproving of Susie’s exotic gig. Susie laughed with Trent when
she described Connie being thrown out, more often than not, quite
forcibly.

“Now, they’re even kicking her out of my own
apartment,” Susie said, referring to the episode earlier that
day.

Trent deliberately avoided talking about
himself, telling Susie only that he was a martial arts black belt
and that he trained in Japan. But Susie was not naïve. She asked,
“You’re some kind of hit man, aren’t you?” Her face brightened, her
eyes widened.

Trent was quick to answer, “No. A hit man
kills for money.”

Susie frowned. “So no one pays you?”

“No.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“For justice.”

Susie paused with a puzzled expression. “So
anyone who’s a murderer, and gets away with it... They better watch
out for you, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Trent liked the sound
of that.

“We waited a long time for Flint to pay for
what he did. Come to think of it...it was a
real
long time.
What took you so long?”

Trent had no answer. Taking so long was
something he regretted. Finally, with a low voice, he said, “I wish
I
didn’t
take so long.”

Susie patted his hand. “It’s okay, baby, you
got him.”

Trent looked into her eyes. “Yeah, I got
him.”

“What about Benjamin? You killed him, too,
didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And TT. Did you know TT was a killer?”

“Well, he was trying his best to kill
me
.”

“I saw him kill a man one night.” Susie
paused again, and then announced, “I know exactly what you
are.”

Trent braced for another surprise.
“What?”

“You’re a
killer of killers
,” she
proclaimed as a matter of fact.

The words hit home for Trent, but he didn’t
comment. He simply enjoyed her charming personality and accepted
the stark assertion.

Susie rendered a hearty yet sensuous smile,
as if being a killer’s woman excited her, and Trent was relieved
she didn’t pry any further. After dinner, he helped with clean up,
and before long the bedroom became their next stop. Talking ceased,
and tender moments were next on the menu. Once they embraced, their
moves were automatic. The night, spent in erotic splendor, became
morning, and the sunrise found them soundly asleep.

Trent awoke first, as he was in the habit of
doing, since not even the proverbial pin dropped without snaring
him from the deepest slumber. He gazed upon the lovely dark-skinned
lady and gently dragged the locks from her face. Susie woke with a
smile. “What time is it?” she asked, sleepily.

“Oh, about six. Going somewhere?”

“It’s time.” She slipped from the bed and
into the bathroom. Moments later, she returned with a syringe in
her hand.

Trent didn’t have to ask. “Don’t tell me.
It’s your miracle medicine.” Averse to drugs his whole life, he
wasn’t sure how to react.

“You have to take a shot every morning,”
Susie said while seating herself on the edge of the bed. Trent sat
up and watched with revulsion as she pierced her upper thigh.
“Oooohhh,” she crooned. But after a minute, she hurried back to the
bathroom and reappeared with another dose. She sat next to Trent
and said, “Your turn.”

Trent saw the point against his shoulder.
“Hey, wait a minute!” He plucked the syringe from her hand. “What
the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking care of you, baby. Don’t you want to
live forever?”

“You’re crazy. No one lives forever.”

“It used to be no one did. But now people
do.”

“Is that what this Jason guy told you?”

“It’s the secret of the medicine. When you
use it every day it works in your body like when it heals a cut. It
cures your blood, and your bones, and a bunch of other stuff Jason
said that I forget. What I remember most is that it stops you from
getting old...and from getting sick, too.”

Trying to absorb the words he just heard,
Trent remained silent.

Susie eyed him keenly and then asked, “Don’t
you think it’s worth it? We can stay young forever. Don’t you want
that?”

Trent needed to know more. “What’s this
Jason’s last name?”

“He’s Dr. Jason Benson. And he’s the smartest
man I ever met.”

“How do you know he’s not pulling a fast one
on you girls?”

“Because why else are all the famous people
using it?”

“I would have guessed to stay in shape,”
Trent surmised. “You know...the athletes and the movie stars. It’s
an anabolic steroid of some kind, right?”

“I don’t know what’s in it, but I do know
they all use it. And I know something else, too.”

After a pause, Trent realized she wasn’t
going to say anything more until he said the obligatory word.
“What?” he asked testily.

“They’re experimenting to make it
reverse
aging. That’s what Soriah wants more than
anything.”

“Well, that makes sense. Otherwise, he’d be
living forever in a mummified body. But I still don’t believe it. I
don’t trust this Jason Benson. He sounds like a con man to me.”

Susie held his shoulders and kissed his
cheek. “You can trust me, baby. I wouldn’t want anything to happen
to you. That’s why I gave you a shot when I brought you home. It
healed you up real good.”

“Yeah, didn’t it.” A doubting Trent began to
give the notion credence as he remembered the gold medallions and
the symbols on Soriah’s tie. “Flint’s medallion... It was in my
pocket. Do you have it?”

“Yeah, it’s right here.” She reached into her
dresser drawer and handed him the necklace.

“These medallions...” Trent showed her the
sideways figure eight. “Do you recognize that symbol?”

“Anyone wearing that means they’re an
Eternal,” Susie explained. “They go to the Flip Flop Club to
receive their supply, but they have to be wearing one of
those.”

Trent nodded. “So that’s why so many rich
people go to that club. I thought it was just a celebrity hot spot.
They’re replenishing their stock. How do they even know it
works?”

“The lab makes sure.”

“Where is this lab?”

“Somewhere in Minnesota is all I know. I’ve
never been there. It’s where Jason works. He comes to see us at the
club every once in a while.”

Trent gave more thought to the matter, but he
had already reached a conclusion long before. “Susie, there’s a few
more things you know I have to do. Appointments I have to
keep.”

“Do you have to leave right now?” She wrapped
her arms around him and straddled his lap, as she did at the
club.

“Well, I don’t have to leave right this
minute,” he conceded.

“Good,” Susie whispered. It was clear she had
plans for the rest of the morning, and she started right away.

* * * *

Time passed, and late evening ended the
romantic interlude for Trent. The clock reminded him it was time to
go. It was after midnight, and before sleep arrived, he reluctantly
pried himself from Susie’s arms.

At the door, Trent promised he would see her
again the next time he returned to New York. Nobody’s fool, Susie
made him promise that he
would
return to New York. He
promised.

But for now, it was time to refocus on his
agenda, and the name next on his list was Nick Martin. The rock
star’s performance in Minneapolis neared, and Trent expected to be
there on opening night. The state senator in St. Paul also shared a
large part of his mind. If Trent’s plan materialized, the Twin
Cities would host twin executions.

This wonder drug, however, was an unexpected
variable. Trent wanted to learn more to see if there was any truth
to this anti-aging nonsense but wasn’t sure how to proceed. He
thought about calling Samantha Jones. She and her brother had
something to do with it. What was their connection? Did they work
for this Manoukian guy to whom Soriah referred? The questions in
his head kept churning.

Chapter Seven

Everybody’s Doing It

Trent stepped from the
taxicab, paid the driver, and strolled toward his hotel. When he
reached his suite, he opened the door just a little more slowly
than usual. Entering cautiously, he noted the front room tidy,
courtesy of room service, but he also noticed the accordion divider
to the bedroom sealed tight. That was atypical.

Next, Trent caught the scent in the air. It
was a woman’s perfume, and it was distinctly different than
Susie’s. He recognized the fragrance—from the airplane when he met
the blond detective. Samantha Jones had been in this room. Smiling,
he wondered what was her objective, trailing him to New York. Was
she here to stop him? If so, she was too late. In his heart, Trent
was pleased for the unexpected visit. He wanted to know what role
Samantha played in Soriah’s multi-ringed circus, but that wasn’t
the only reason he looked forward to seeing her again.

Trent opened the screen, and there lay a
sleeping beauty in the bed. It was the fair-haired Samantha Jones.
Noticing her clothes on the chair, he walked beside the mattress
and said, “Hello, Miss Jones.”

Samantha opened her eyes. They didn’t look
tired. “What took so long?” she asked. “I’ve been waiting all
night.”