"Surprised that I’m a blind man, living in a hovel?"
"Yes, actually."
Ebenezer sniffed disdainfully. "Only one of us is truly blind. I am rich beyond your imaginings."
Eun looked around doubtfully but said nothing.
"So. The last time you were here you wanted me to verify certain things about your past." Ebenezer cleared his throat. "So what is it this time?"
Lazarus glanced at Eun. "The Broker was quite useful. He found quite a bit about Richard Winthrop’s life, before and after he fell in with The Illuminati."
Eun once again bit his tongue. All of the aides had noticed Gray’s new habit of referring to his old life in the third person. It was like he was regarding Richard Winthrop as a separate entity from himself.
Gray removed a small vial of what appeared to be blood, stepping forward to push it into Ebenezer’s hand. The old man removed the stopper from the vial and raised it to his nostrils, sniffing it and nodding.
"This is more than enough for almost anything, I’d wager," Ebenezer said, replacing the stopper and setting it on a crowded table at his side. "What do you need to know?"
"There were a series of murders in New Orleans almost twenty years ago and now a similar set are occurring here in Sovereign City. I was wondering if you knew anything about them."
"Ah," Ebenezer said, his lips stretching wide. "You want to know about the Slashers."
"The Axeman," Eun corrected.
Ebenezer shrugged his bony shoulders. "Same thing."
Gray crouched in front of him, studying the blind man’s features. "Tell me everything."
"For as long as there have been men who sought power through sorcery, there have been Slashers. They’ve been known by different names in different times but they’re always men or women who have been transformed into killing machines, subject to the whims of their masters. They kill for two reasons: because someone tells them to and because they must. They no longer eat or drink as we do, they feed off the life essence of those they kill. Using them as foot soldiers is good because they won’t stop moving after their target but it’s also dangerous: they have to kill again and again, which can lead to unwanted attention. Jack the Ripper was a Slasher in service to a man named William Gull. And the Axeman of New Orleans was a Slasher, too."
"Is it the same one that’s killing people here in Sovereign?"
"Could be. But it doesn’t matter. They’re a Slasher, which is all you need to know. The Slasher is dangerous, of course, but the one pulling the strings is even more so."
Eun could no longer maintain his silence. "So the one who wrote the papers as Jack the Ripper — was that the Slasher or the mastermind?"
Ebenezer turned blind eyes toward Eun. "Boy, it doesn’t matter. Jack the Ripper isn’t here, now is he? All that matters is there’s a killer out there and he’s going to be damned tough to defeat. Just like they don’t eat or drink like we do, they don’t die like we do. They’re stronger and more resistant to pain."
Gray reached out and lightly touched Ebenezer’s shoulder. "Is there anything else you can tell us? Is there a way to easily trace who’s behind all this?"
"That shouldn’t be too hard. Just look in your own home."
Chapter III
Death’s Head
Morgan Watts led Mr. Dinkins and Muggsy into the headquarters of Assistance Unlimited. He’d hated to cut short his date with Molly but meeting a man with no heart took precedence over a night out and he hoped she’d understand that. If not, that was too bad for her. Morgan considered his job with Lazarus Gray to be one of the most important things in his life and any partner of his would simply have to understand that.
The group’s headquarters was based in an old hotel and there were facets of its old purpose still on display. One such item was the clerk’s desk, where once upon a time men and women stepped up to check on their reservations. Morgan stepped around this desk while Dinkins and Muggsy stared at their surroundings. Morgan checked a small magnetic board attached to the back of the desk. On the board were written the names of Assistance Unlimited’s agents, with two columns drawn next to them: In and Out. Small black dots could be slid back and forth as necessary. Morgan wasn’t surprised to see that all the dots were currently in the Out column. He slid his own to In and sighed.
"Lazarus and the others are out right now but you can wait in the next room. I’ll bring you some coffee if you want."
"Thank you, Mr. Morgan." Dinkins took his hat off and held it with both hands. "I do appreciate you bringing us here. I know that you were involved with what promised to be an entertaining evening."
Morgan tried not to show his chagrin at the reminder. "Don’t worry about it. Go on and have a seat." He gestured toward an open door that led into a small waiting area. There were several plush chairs set against the wall and a table in the center with magazines of all types arranged around a floral centerpiece. As with most things of an aesthetic nature in the building, it was Samantha’s handiwork. Eun and Morgan had no eye for such things and though Lazarus was incredibly well read and quite aware of appearances, he stepped aside and let Samantha use her skills whenever necessary.
Once Dinkins and his oversized companion was out of sight, Morgan activated the small handheld communications device that all members of the team carried these days. It had two settings: one for radio conversation and another that simply sent an emergency signal to the other devices. In this case, Morgan opted for the latter. He wasn’t sure why he erred on the side of such caution but he didn’t want Dinkins listening in to any conversation that he might have. He didn’t trust either of his guests and it wasn’t simply the fact that a shiver went down his spine every time he visualized the old man’s wounded chest. There was something more at work here and he hadn’t liked the way that Dinkins’ eyes had lit up at the suggestion of coming here.
Still, Morgan felt better having them in a place he considered safer than Fort Knox. He moved into the small office behind the desk, preparing a fresh cup of coffee and was just beginning to wonder what Samantha was up to. She’d seemed unaffected by his news that he was going out on a date with Molly, which had both surprised and disappointed him. There was a big part of him that just wanted to give up on any chance of a love affair with her but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He knew she was right: workplace romances were almost never a good idea. Besides that, there was the age difference. Morgan was in his forties and Samantha was barely past twenty. It might not cause problems right now but where could they go from here? What if she wanted children? Could he really deal with fatherhood when turning fifty lay just around the bend for him?
He was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t hear the sound of the waiting room door opening and closing. It was done quite quietly but all the members of Assistance Unlimited were trained to sense danger in all its forms. He stepped back out to the desk to see what was going on and quickly stopped in his tracks. Muggsy was standing with a large axe held in his right hand. The blood caked blade dangled against his leg and the big man’s eyes shone out from behind his mask with murderous intent.
Mr. Dinkins stood just to the left of Muggsy, a peculiar look on his face. He sounded apologetic as he said, "I’m sorry about this, Mr. Watts. You’ve been quite good to us and I’d hoped that what happened last night would slake his thirst for the time being. But our Muggsy needs a lot of blood to keep his strength up. And, just between you and me, I think he simply likes the killing."
Morgan reached into his jacket and withdrew his pistol, which he quickly trained on the big man with the axe. "Take one step toward me, fella, and I’ll kill you."