Dead Man Running (16 page)

HAMID

Then ya pack him up, him and his bad self.

MOOKIE

Hack him up.

HAMID

Hack him up to death.

MOOKIE

W
h
ip, w
h
op, wham.

BOTH

Boooy!

Chi leap
ed
awake
, his body drenched in sweat
.
  He grabbed his shoes but did not place them on his feet.  He would do that later, after he had left the house.

EIGHT

Chi sat at the kitchen table reading the Times online.  There was ample coverage about the two missing detectives.  Chi was surprised that the cops had not come to the Wiley home looking for their men. 
He wondered about this – perhaps they didn't tell anyone where they were headed yesterday, given the high profile of the suspect.

Jan stepped into the room.  She wore an expensive jacket that Chi recognized as belonging to Mrs. Wiley and, by the smell of things, was wearing the dead woman's perfume.

"
Chi, I have to head out for a minute.
"

Chi looked up from his laptop.  "
Don't say head.
"

"
Anyway, I have to go home to pick up my dress for
Election Day
.
"

"
Fine.  Where's Wiley
?"

"
He's up in his room resting.
"

"
Resting?  But he's dead.
"

"
He still needs his rest
, silly
.
"

Chi shrugged, remembering that he really didn't want to piss off this woman, given the fact that she seemed to be able to control the very dead and
very
deadly Reverend Wiley.

"
I guess so, it takes a lot out of you, eating two people and all.
"

"
Yes, it does.  Try to keep things quiet around here.
"

Jan le
ft and
Chi return
ed
to
his
reading.  He pause
d, made sure he heard the Wiley's Benz being started, then driven away.  He gave it ten minutes
in case
she forg
o
t
some
thing.  He took a sip of his coffee, which he had spiked with the reverend's JD.  He took a deep breath, stood and gulped down the rest of his
courage
.  He went to the basement to retrieve the object he had snuck out to purchase after his disturbing dream.

Jan entered the
Arabian
Magic Shoppe.  A young woman looked up from the counter as the door chime sounded. 

"Can I speak to
Hamid
?" Jan asked.  She instantly disliked the woman – beautiful in her own right, Jan felt threatened by the young woman's tall, thin frame, swarthy skin, dark luxurious hair, and generous hips and bust.

"My grandfather is in his back office." She lifted a panel at the end of the counter to allow Jan passage.  "He told me to send you back when you arrived
.
"

"How
did he know that I would come
?"
Jan asked as she stepped past the beauty.

"This is a magic shop, Ms. Sugerfoot. If you're interested we have a buy one, get one free sale on clairvoyance potions this week."  The woman smiled and Jan's enmity deepened.

"Just show me where he is," she spat.

The woman led Jan down a long hallway. 
Th
e
building didn't look this long from outside.
 

She finally reached a white door and knocked twice.

"Come in," the familiar voice said from inside. 
Hamid
's granddaughter opened the door and gestured for Jan to enter.  Once she was inside the door was closed.

Similar to the hallway, the office was impossibly large.  The floor was marble, the walls trimmed in gold leaf. 
Hamid
stood behind a desk made of beveled glass.

"Please have a seat, Ms. Sugerfoot."

Jan sat in what seemed to her to be an antique chair
– or as much of an antique as a girl r
ear
ed in
the
South Bronx
could recognize.

"Let me get right to it, Mr…"

"The last name is
Hidar
but please call me
Hamid
."

"Do you read the papers or watch television,
Hamid
?"

"I do."

"So you know that Ben Wiley is polling at around ninety percent in the
F
ourth
D
istrict?"

"Yes, I know that the zombie that I created, that you folks have conspired to impersonate a distinguished politician named Ben Wiley is far ahead in the polls."

Jan nodded.  "I need to know where you stand,
Hamid
.  Are you friend or foe?"

"Do you mean do I intend to blow the whistle on this impersonation?"

"Yes, that's what I mean."  Jan held the old man's eyes.

"You can save the evil eye, Ms. Sugerfoot.  A zombie, like a dog, typically picks out one human being as his 'alpha dog', so to speak.  It took me only a few moments in your presence to look beyond the timid persona that you were portraying to understand that you would be Wiley's alpha."  He sat straighter in his chair, brushed an invisible piece of lint from his silk sleeve.  He raised his eyes back to Jan's.  "You have control over this being I created but don't presume that you can walk in here and threaten me with the destructive power of that being.  First, zombie
s
cannot attack those who created them, nor their creator's family.  Second, this is not my first rodeo, as they say.  You make a move on me with your one undead and I will send a dozen back at you."

Jan sat back, lowered her eyes for a moment.

"
I didn't come here to threaten you."

"Yes you did and I admire your
, if you'll pardon the expression
coming from the mouth of a Palestinian
,
chutzpah.  To answer your question, revealing my creations is bad for business.  Pretty soon every half assed magician will be creating zombies and the price will go down."

Jan nodded.  "Thank you,
Hamid
.  I have plans for Ben Wiley, big plans.  I think he can become president of the
United States
."

She expected the old man to laugh but he did not.  He stood, walked over to a cedar cabinet and removed two bottles, one pink and the other green.

He sat down behind his desk and pushed the bottles toward Jan.

"Is Elias on board with this?"

"He will be or he's lunch," said Jan.

"I would like to help you but it comes at a price."

Jan gestured to the bottles.  "Are these your help?"

"Some.  Your basic zombie has limited flexibility and mobility.  The pink will revitalize Wiley's muscles and agility.
  It will also arrest his decay, removing his stench.
"

Jan smiled broadly.

"Yes, Ms. Sugerfoot, he will be able to perform sexually.  Just make hi
m
wear a rubber because I hear zombie babies like to eat their way out of the womb."
  He smiled.

Jan unconsciously rubbed her belly. 
"The green liquid?"
she asked.

"The green commands his higher functions – thought, speech, and creativity."

"I don't want him too capable, if you know what I mean."

"He won't be – he'll be a typical politician, pliable, programmable, easy to manipulate and persuade.  He continues to have no soul so they'll be no moral dilemmas to harm you
r
plans."

"He won't spout the nursery rhymes and the shit he said while he was boning that white hussy
, will he?
"

Hamid
shook his head.  "That stuff is never completely eliminated but over time it will occur less and less.  May I suggest that a Tourette's
syndrome
defense may
b
e used if Mr. Wiley says something truly offensive or
inappropriate?
"

"That would work," replied Jan.  "Now, talk about the price."

"Ah, very simple. 
I want Wiley – be he congressman or president – to use his voice in support of my people."

"The Palestinians?  Aren't they terrorists?"

Hamid stretched his slender fingers upon his desk.  "Palestinians are peaceful people.  We merely seek a home of our own
, o
ur own country located in the lands of our ancestors."

"How
can
Wiley help with that?"

"We have no voice in this government.  As he becomes more powerful, so do we.  If he becomes president our nationhood is assured."

Jan nodded
, pleased that the man wasn't looking for a piece of the real action – the millions she can skim off of campaign contributions and back room deals with rich backers.  "Is that all you want?"

"T
o protect my interest my granddaughter
Mira
will join the Wiley team."

"Bullshit!  We don't need anyone else."

"Yes, you do.  You've lost two members in the past two days."

Jan cocked her head, stared in the old man's earnest eyes. 
"Who?  What are you talking about?"

"You'll see.  Plus you'll need a source of supply for more of these potions –
Mira
has magical skills and can
conjure both
."

"He needs to keep taking this stuff?"

"Every few weeks or else he'll revert to the basic zombie and you won't want that while he's being interviewed on Good Morning America." 

The old man smiled – he had her.  Her ambition created more dependence, on him.  Maybe one of his zombies
will
become president. 
Even if Wiley falls short he'll have a
U.S.
c
ongressman in the palm of his hand.  That can't be a bad thing for the
Hidar
's or their motherland,
Palestine
.

Jan stood, hand extended.  "Deal," she said and they shook.

After Jan left
,
the building and Hamid's off
ice
reverted to their true state – a dingy, poorly maintained building and a small office with
decade's
old furniture and well worn
carpet
.  With their visitor gone the Hidar's felt no need to maintain the magical façade of splendor.  In fact, the payment from Elias had already been spent on back rent and supplies for the marginal business they maintained.

Mira took a seat in front of her grandfather, who remained seated behind his desk.

"You knew she would come?"

"I knew either she or Turnbull would come.  Of the souls in that hotel room they were the most depraved and desperate."

"We could have used some more of their money, grandfather."

"You will get a salary, more than enough to satisfy your needs
."

Mira blushed, took her grandfather's hand in hers.  Flashed across her mind were the many people she made money from by performing magic on the streets
and by
selling spells and potions
on her popular website
. 
The fact that her online persona wore skimpy outfits did not hurt sales. 
Th
at
money she kept for herself, allowed her to live large in an expensive
Manhattan
apartment. 
Although her
family was
not
devout Muslims, she kept her bank account a secret. 
With the secret came guilt whenever she spent time with her less than successful grandfather.

"I have enough money, grandfather.  I mean
t
for you and this business."

Hamid patted Mira's hand, sat back in his chair.  "There are things more important than money, Mira.  The security of our people is paramount.  Our people need a safe, secure country that belongs to them."

"And this is the way we get it?"

"
We know that t
error is not the way.  We have many people from many lands speaking for us from behind a rifle or with explosives strapped to their bodies. 
The 911 bombers said they were, in part, acting on our behalf."  He swatted that sentiment like he would swat a fly.  "W
e are not going to get our nation that way.  It has to come from
America
, and they have to want to give it to us.  That is why I came here. 
To find a way to get them on our side.
  This is our opportunity
"