MORTALITY HAS ITS COMPENSATIONS_ Chapter Fourteen_ THE GIRL WITH SILVER EYES

 

"Mortality has its compensations, son: 

one, that all evils are transitory; another that better times may yet come. 

Is it not better we take our history to our grave and allow the unborn to enter the world unburdened?" 

- Amaia

Lucas knew that sometimes to unravel a mystery, you had to go back to the beginning.

So he "turned the corner" back to Henderson's quarters where she had been showing off her Gestapo uniform to him:

The last time he had seen her alive.

She wasn't there, of course.

But the room was not empty. 

Winter blew on his blood as Lucas heard two Colts having bullets being chambered behind him.

Lucas promised himself that if he survived this assignment, he would never again "turn the corner."

But first, he would have to survive this moment.

A voice born on the streets of New York gruffed behind him, "Buddy, give me one good reason why we shouldn't shoot you where you stand."

A cultured Swedish voice chided her companion. 

"Oh, M&M, we would get no answers as to how he just 'visa sig' oh how do you say it ... appeared like 'magi' in front of us."

"That's magic, Lieutenant Durtz."

"I have repeatedly told you, M&M, that when we are about to eliminate someone, you may call me Ingrid."

Lucas turned as slowly as if he were moving deep underwater and froze, reconsidering his belief that he was incapable of love.

The blonde was dressed all in black like a cat burglar.

She was obviously an amateur since she had been unable to resist the scarlet beret tilted at a rakish angle on her head.

The small man to her left was dressed as if he had burgled before. He held his body as if he meant business. 

The Colt aimed at Luke's chest helped with the impression. He saw Luke's eyes on her beret and shrugged.

"Henderson was her friend. She couldn't resist trying it on when she spotted it on her vanity."

Ingrid gestured with her Colt. "You are out of uniform."

"Look who's talking," said Lucas. 

"I was attending her funeral in Wyoming ... where I am still wanted for murder ... hence my disguise."

"Who did you murder?" frowned Ingrid.

"The sheriff ... killed my mother."

M&M nodded, "Corrupt cop?"

"Corrupt is too mild a word."

Ingrid murmured, "How did you kill him?"

"I forced him to hang himself."

M&M grinned like a wolf. "I like that."

Ingrid frowned, "You would."

Ingrid frowned, "What brings you to her quarters?"

"I'm looking for a clue to her whereabouts."

M&M snorted, "You've just been to her funeral, bud. Where do you think she is?"

"The coffin was empty."

"Oj?" exclaimed Ingrid in her native Swedish. "What happened to her body?"

"I suspect, but I do not know for sure. I came here looking for a clue."

"Ain't no clue here shouting at me, pal," scoffed M&M.

"No?" asked Lucas with a raised eyebrow. 

"That mock-up movie poster on the wall of the girl with silver eyes holding that strange book wasn't here a moment ago."

"Hell!" growled M&M.

"Exactly," murmured Lucas.