"I know that Joseph and Charlene were having an affair. I don't know anything about gold or stealing." I tried to sound reasonable, like this was a normal conversation, like he wasn't a gun-toting, cigar-smoking, gold-loving maniac.
"Charlene didn't show you the gold?" He raised his eyebrows and watched my face intently. "I can tell that you're lying, Joy. If there is one thing I can't stand, it's a liar."
"I'm sorry," I said.
He liked that, and a smile spread across his face. "That's alright. Just don't do it again." He sat down on my couch and motioned for me to sit next to him. I moved around James's bound body and sat. He put his cigar-holding hand around my shoulder and spoke softly, intimately into my ear. "Tate was a liar." His breath was hot. "He lied to women to make them sleep with him. He lied to men to make them like him. And he lied to me to make me trust him. But I don't trust anyone." He squeezed my shoulder, being careful not to burn me with the hot ember of his cigar. "Do you want to know why I killed Tate?" he asked in a whisper. Goose bumps spread over my skin, and I was stunned into silence. The mayor stood up. "Don't act so shocked, Joy!"
"I'm not shocked," I said recovering myself.
"Don't lie!" he yelled.
"I'm sorry."
He took a step back and turned away from me. "I'm getting sick of your apologies," he snarled with his back to me.
"OK."
"Do you want to know why I killed him or not?"
"I don't know how to answer that."
"Honestly. Just answer it honestly." He turned back to face me. "All I ever ask for is honesty."
"Tell me."
He smiled. "He got greedy." Kurt did not continue. I sat on the couch with my knees together trying to figure out how to survive. The silence lasted a long time. Blue chewed on his bone, I stared at the floor, and the mayor watched me. "Don't you want more details?"
"Yes." I felt as if I were standing outside myself, watching. I noticed the way my eyes were fluttering around the room, like a scared little bunny rabbit caught in a trap, struggling against the metal talons holding me, fighting toward my death.
"He tried to take more than his share," the mayor started. "There was plenty to go around. The H.M.S. Hussar is one of the greatest finds in history. Not only is she a piece of Revolutionary history, a veritable time capsule of the late 1700s, but she also carried millions upon millions of dollars' worth of treasure." He liked watching my face when he said treasure. "It was right after law school when I started looking," his eyes unfocused and appeared to drift back to that period in his life. "It wasn't on purpose, you know. I wasn't thinking about the Hussar when I found the map. I'd heard of the wreck, of course, every diver has, but the map was misfiled. I was looking for the blueprints of a recently demolished building in the Rare Books Room when I found it. Joy, you have no idea how I felt when I realized what it was, what I had."
"Why all the secrecy? Why not tell the world what you'd found?"
Kurt glared at me. "Do you know the number of regulations involved in something like that? We are saddled with endless laws, rules, regulations, statutes, ordinances, mandates, and acts of Congress that it makes me wonder if this country is even a democracy at all or just a bureaucratic artifice." He was spitting with every word. "Since the late 1800s, Congress has slowly strangled the ability of Americans enterprise. Why shouldn't a person just be able to do what he dreams? Why must he plead with the government to let him make an attempt?" His face was red and his eyes wide with fury.
"But aren't you a member of the government?"
"You are so naive, Joy. You think that I am a representative of the people, ey? That I am a law-abiding public servant, that I am your leader." He moved close to me, and I concentrated on not squirming.
"I just was thinking that if you hate government so much, why be a part of it?"
"What else would I be? On the other side with the likes of you? Unable to do anything? A sheep. You think I'm a sheep?"
"Absolutely not."
"Of course not."
"I just don't understand why you're doing all this. I just don't get it."
"Don't you see? Being the mayor means nothing. I control nothing. Well," he paused for a moment, "I control more than you control but not much. You think I don't owe people for the power I have? It's not like you get to the top and you're free. There are a lot of people who I owe Joy." He paused and then in a quieter voice he continued, "But the Hussar is mine, all mine. I can take her treasure and it will make me free." He was looking at me with his eyes wide and wet. For a brief moment, I felt bad for him. Here was a man who believed treasure would make him free, when clearly nothing in the world could grant him liberty, not with a mind like that.
"I found her, Joy. And she is mine. I found the map. I found the first chest of gold. I almost missed it." He laughed, looking at something far away. "It's almost impossible to see down there, you know? The East River has some of the lowest visibility in the world, but I've got a nose for these things." He tapped his gun to his nose, just in case I didn't know where it was. "We found more than I ever could have hoped for--jewelry and coins, raw gems. Fantastic!"
"That's a lot of treasure," I said.
"Yes, it is." The mayor became thoughtful. "But Tate didn't think his half would be enough. It wasn't even all to the surface, and he tried to steal it. Can you believe the man?"
"What a fool."
His face lit up. "That is exactly what I thought when I realized what he was doing. Wasn't there enough for everyone? Especially after I killed Joseph. Wasn't half enough? Wasn't it enough to warrant a little loyalty?"
"You would think."
"You would, wouldn't you?" He was pacing, gesturing first with his gun and then with his cigar. "But Tate was not a loyal man. He was a greedy liar and now," he stopped pacing and looked directly at me, "he's dead."
"Good riddance. Sounds to me like he deserved it."
"You're smart, Joy. It's too bad about you." He was smiling down at me.
"What do you mean?" My skin felt hot and my gut frozen.
"I mean that it's too bad we didn't meet under different circumstances. I think you could have worked for me."
"Well, I did vote for you."
He laughed. "Indeed you did, and I appreciate that." He sat back down next to me and sniffed my hair, then stood up again.
"You know what I need, don't you?"
"What?"
"I need Charlene Miller and the coins she's got."
"I don't know where she is."
"Wrong answer," he raised his gun and aimed it at James's foot.
"No!" I yelled, but with a silent thwap, a bullet raced through space. James's foot began to pump out blood. He screamed through the scarf. James's eyes filled with tears and turned red. "Stop! Stop!" I ran toward James, but the mayor knocked me back. Blue jumped to his feet and let out a warning growl. The mayor laughed.
"I can shoot you, too, you know," he told Blue and then looked at me. "And you. Now, Charlene."
"OK. I'll find her. I just need to make a phone call. Give me a minute." I looked over at James. His eyes were wide and he was pleading with me. "I'll get her."
The mayor motioned to my phone on the coffee table. My mind was racing. I had no way of reaching Charlene. Mulberry would never tell me where she was, and I didn't have a clue. "Her number's in my purse," I said, buying myself a few more precious moments to think. The mayor nodded and waved at my purse. Picking it up, I rifled through it. My Taser was in there, but I had no way of pulling it out in time. James was already shot, and I could never make it to Kurt without getting a bullet wound myself. I pulled out my wallet and picked through the business cards.
"Hurry it up. Your brother is bleeding. I wouldn't want to have to put another hole in him." My hands were shaking as I stared at a business card for a fish restaurant in Baltimore I'd been to about a year ago. I dialed the number quickly forming a plan, hoping that a woman would pick up.
"Charlie's Fis
h Shake," a woman said.
"Charlene, I'm glad I caught you. I really need you to come over." The woman tried to say something, but I kept talking. "It's really important. It's for your own safety." Kurt smiled at that. I let the woman tell me I had the wrong number and then said, "Good, I'll see you soon."
"She'll be here as soon as she can," I lied.
"Where is she now?" he asked, sitting on the couch, just behind James.
"On the Lower East Side. That's where she's been living."
"Clever girl."
"Can I please bandage my brother's foot?" The blood was slowly forming a puddle of red on the floor. Beads of sweat dotted James's pale face.
"Sure, go ahead." Kurt waved his gun at the injured foot. I went into the kitchen and gathered all the dishrags I owned. In the bathroom, I found an ancient bottle of hydrogen peroxide under the sink. I carried it back into the living room and tried to remember any first aid I could. The yellowed Heimlich maneuver poster from my first waitressing job wouldn't leave my brain.
"I'm going to pour peroxide on it now." James looked down at where I crouched near his foot. "OK?" He nodded and closed his eyes. I poured the liquid over the wound. It bubbled white and red. James moaned against his gag. "Alright, that part's done," I told him. "Now I'm going to wrap some towels around it. I'm going to wrap it really tight to try and stop the bleeding a little." James nodded. I lifted his foot gently and put one of the rags underneath and then brought the two ends around. I tied it as tight as I could.
"I feel like there was something about a pencil and making a tourniquet. Do you remember anything like that?" James nodded. I turned to the mayor. "Can I take his gag off so that he can tell me how to make a tourniquet?"
"No." The mayor chewed on the end of his cigar and watched me. I wrapped another rag around the foot and then another. I didn't know if it was doing any good. When I was done, I sat on the floor near James's foot.
"You're good," Kurt said. "That whole thing about it being for her safety, that was smart. I really do wish we could have been on the same team."
"Me, too. Yours is obviously the winning one."
"That's true." He smiled.
"You've probably been a winner your whole life."
"Not my whole life, but most of it. You know, I'm just willing to go further than the next guy."
"Is that how you do it?"
"It's part of the reason I'm successful." You would have thought he was a college professor and I, an eager coed. "But it's also just a lot of hard work."
"And quick thinking."
"Of course, quick thinking." He puffed on his cigar, then realized it was dead. The mayor put down his gun, reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out a silver lighter with gold edges.
"You're going to kill us both, aren't you?"
He looked over his cigar at me, puffing hard, getting the thing burning. "I'm afraid that I have to. But, Joy, before you get upset, let me say that I really like you. I respect you and your brother. He put up a real fight, you know. It was not easy to get him here. And that cat of his, what's her name?" Kurt put the lighter back in his pocket and picked up his gun.
"Aurora."
"Aurora fought for him. Look what she did to my ankle." He pulled his pant leg up to reveal deep, angry scratches all along his Achilles. I couldn't resist a smile for Aurora's loyalty. "It was a shame I had to kill her." My face fell.
"You killed her?"
"Joy, you know, I'm not really like this. If Tate and Joseph had stuck to the plan, if you had kept your nose out of it, if Charlene hadn't tried to run, no one would have gotten hurt." I looked up at him. He was serious. Not a hint of irony played across his face.
"Alright. I get it. Go ahead. I don't want to drag it out anymore. Just kill me." I spread my arms out, exposing my chest.
"Joy, don't be like this."
"How would you like me to be?" I stood up and walked to the windows. "Do you want me to beg for my life?" I heard him stand up.
"No, of course not. Just wait until it's time. Come on. Sit down." I turned around. He was pointing at the couch with his cigar, his gun arm hung by his side. When I didn't answer him, he moved a step closer. "It's just what has to happen," he explained from only an arm's length away.
"Do you want me to beg for my life?" A red blush started to spread up his neck.
"Stop it." He came even closer. Adrenaline rushed through me, pushing my heart to pump faster, sharpening my vision, filling me with strength.
"How about I fight for it?" I grabbed for the arm with the gun in it and caught his hand as he tried to pull it away. He tried to point the gun at me, but I had both my hands on it. I twisted so my back was up against his chest, and the gun was in front of us where he couldn't see it. He put the burning ember of his cigar into my shoulder. It was a white heat, and I screamed. He twisted the ember, and my skin smoked.
I lifted his gun hand up to my mouth and bit the soft flesh between his thumb and the rest of his hand. He grunted behind me and dropped the cigar. He tried to get some distance between us, but I kept my back pushed up against his chest. I felt his body's shape and heat as he struggled to be free of me. Blue was barking and circling us. The mayor punched me in the kidneys but didn't have enough room to put much strength behind it. My mouth filled with warm, salty blood when I broke through his skin.
He dropped the gun, and I followed it to the ground. It was slippery with blood and I struggled to gain control of it. Holding it with both hands, my finger on the trigger, I turned to face the mayor. He was aiming a small gun at my head. I watched as if in slow motion. He began to pull the trigger.
Blue, mouth open, fangs bared, catapulted himself at the mayor. Blue twisted in the air when the mayor fired, and an inconceivable bang ripped through the room. Blood exploded out of Blue's shoulder and splattered my face, arms, and chest. His injured body landed on top of Kurt Jessup, knocking him back onto the couch. The mayor pushed Blue off him onto the floor. A large red stain marked where Blue's wound had met with the mayor's white shirt. Kurt stood up, and I concentrated on steadying my own gun.
"Just leave," I told him.
"You haven't won yet. I still have a gun." He leveled it at my chest. My heart was pumping so loud I could barely hear.
"Just leave," I tried again.
"You can't pull that trigger."
"Don't tempt me." He took a step toward me, and I took a step back. I felt I could see the life rushing through him. I watched his chest rise and fall with each breath. He took another step toward me. I fired a warning shot above his head that sank into my molding. He stopped.
"Get out now."
"I can't leave without Charlene."
"You're going to have to."
"Do you think you can go far enough?"
"I can go as far as I need to." He turned quickly and fired a shot into James's chest. My heart stopped beating, and the floor fell out from under me. My vision tunneled. I didn't even notice the gun slipping away from me as I watched the blood drain out of James's face.
"Tempted?" The mayor was smiling at me, a smattering of James's blood on his cheek. I ran to my brother's side and pulled the gag from his mouth.
"You're going to be OK."
"I know." His breath was coming in gurgles. I ripped my shirt over my head and pressed it against the wound.
"James, you hold on! Do you hear me?" My vision became blurred with tears. "Nona!" I screamed. "Nona call the police! An ambulance! Call an ambulance!"
The mayor was watching us, the small gun held loosely in his hand. I looked over at him, then down at my brother. James smiled at me and said, "I love you, Joy."
"Stop it. You're fine. You're fine." I pushed some hair off his forehead. "I love you, James."
I was filled with something I can't even describe as rage or sorrow because it was so much more than that. I could feel the mayor watching us, and I wanted to shoot him, but not just shoot him. I wanted to destroy him. I wanted more than his d
eath. I wanted him to have never existed. I could see that my brother was going to die right here. He was going to die.
"Now it's your turn," he said, his gun aimed at me. Before I thought, or he blinked, I was on top of him. I flew on him, slamming us to the ground. The gun clattered to the floor. My eyes blind with tears, I wrapped my legs around him, pinning him to the floor. I threw my fist at his face, connecting as often as not.
He tried to wriggle away, out of my grip, I held him between my thighs. He kicked at me but I was sitting too high on his chest for him to touch me. I kept striking at his face. His skin was warm. Its life, its color, made me insane. I tore at it with my nails, trying to make him bleed.
I pushed my thumb into his eye socket. His face contorted and he fought harder. I put my other thumb in his other socket and pushed. "Stop!" he yelled, but I kept going. He shook his head, so I gripped it with both my hands and slammed his skull against the floor, then I held on tight while I pushed his eyes. I could feel their shape, his pulse running through them. I was breathing hard. I was about to push his eyes all the way to the back of his skull. I wanted to blind him. I wanted to hurt him. I needed to kill him. But then something inside me balked, and for just a moment, a millisecond, I didn't want to be a murderer.
He sensed my hesitation, and planting his feet on the ground, bucked me off him. I flew forward, landing on my face, and he scrambled to his feet. He whirled around, searching for the gun, his face swollen. He looked over at me, and I saw that he was scared.
"Leave," I told him from the ground. He was breathing hard. Sirens wailed in the distance. "The police are coming. You better just leave."
"Not without Charlene." I stood up. He scanned the floor for the gun. I saw one under my bookshelf far out of his vision. The other was behind his left foot under the couch.
"She's not coming." His head shot up, and his eyes narrowed. I practically saw the decision happen. It was like the change in a person's eye when they see someone they know--the look of recognition. He'd lost this one. Kurt Jessup didn't waste any time. He turned and left, not bothering to close the door.