THE SHAFT

Part 2 — Chapter 4

Three Years Ago…

A live upscale bar in Chicago was where Duke had spent many nights when he wasn't 'working.' As upscale as it was, it did bring in the drifters and the murderers. But Duke was a professional and therefore he got professional upscale people coming to him like businessmen, millionaires (or at least their servants) and other top-notch people. Duke swirled round looking at the glass of brandy in his hand lazily. He was slightly drunk but coherent. Opposite him was a much better dressed man. Duke would be prepared to admit that this was the only type of 'friend' he had. Even though no one really classified Adrian Motter as a 'friend.' More like a harsh acquaintance with a lot of meaningful things to say.

And as Duke sat again for the eighth night in a row in this bar, he couldn't help wondering that maybe he should give up on his murdering spree now. He had killed more people than he could count. He had more money than his wallet could hold nowheredays and the bills weren't exactly running short. Maybe he could settle down now. But no…it was just too easy. It was easy to have more money coming in.

Adrian was around the same age as Duke but the signs of old age were already showing in him. No one really knew much about Adrian. Everyone knew that despite the fact he was rich, he owned more than he could handle. He was on the bad side of the law as well but no one could touch him. "Answer me one question, Duke," he demanded as Duke drank down the rest of the brandy. "Where do you get the courage to kill every day."

Duke raised a skeptical eyebrow. "There's no courage involved. Just a lotta fear. Fear of getting caught, fear of someone hearing you…you get used to it."

"Do you fear in getting caught."

Duke gave a lazy lopsided grin and leaned over the small round table to Adrian. "Motter, I'm a profession killer-for-hire. This is my job. It's not just something I do for a one off because someone annoys me. Of course I'm afraid. But you don't tell anyone that, okay?" He ordered another brandy.

"I think you've had enough for one night," Adrian insisted. And then out of the corner of his eye he spotted someone walking into the bar and he cursed silently. Jiminy wasn't supposed to be here. And now that he was, war would strike like an ignited gas tank. There wasn't a soul that didn't know about the current dispute between Duke Lotella and Jiminy Sampson. To Adrian's dismay, he saw Sampson walk over to them.

"Duke, is it true that you slept with a hooker last night…?" he asked, letting the question hang. "And is it true that she paid for the extra that you gave her after that hot night." Duke didn't look at the man but his hand clamped round the brandy glass. Jiminy's annoying laugh sounded in his ears.

"Did you kill her after that dose?" Jiminy asked, laughing again.

Duke's patience, as usual, didn't last for long. He leapt up from his seat, dropping his empty glass and shattering it to the floor. He caught Jiminy by his neck, sending him into the wall and pulled out his gun to lift to the other man's temple. Jiminy's sudden cockiness was replaced by fear. Duke was known by reputation and now he looked mad. "Listen here, Jimmy. You're an ammeter. You're out of your league to be playing with the big boys. So go back to the junior hitman boy-scouts and come back when you grow up. Otherwise I'll show you my own lesson of how to become a professional hitman…right in the head. Understand?"

Jiminy couldn't answer and Adrian got up before he could do anything stupid. Placing a hand on the hitman's shoulder, he prized by the man and made him sit down, jerking his head to tell Jiminy to go away. He didn't need telling twice. "I should think that after the murder you committed last week you'd need to keep a low profile if you intend to keep the police away from you," Adrian informed, putting on his large coat for it was the middle of winter and the blizzards were in.

Duke nodded. "Whatever."

Suddenly, he felt someone tap his shoulder and he saw a slender young woman, dressed up in her own bundle of coats, who had just come through the door. She looked rather nervous and scared of seeing Duke. But she summoned the courage. "Hi…I need your help with something," she insisted.

And so, with his next offer, Duke was out of town and into Sacramento with a guaranteed $500 000 plan. And he didn't return to Chicago for at least four years after that. Therefore, because of all his travelling he didn't hear about Adrian Motter and what happened to him. For a few days after he left Sacramento, Adrian had left a drugstore with a bunch of herbal remedies (as Adrian didn't believe in the real doctor stuff) when a car had spread out of nowhere. Being the middle of the night, no one saw the accident happen and so he was found the next morning. If he hadn't died of the head wound, he had certainly died of the cold.

And no one knew whether it was deliberate or not…

* * * * *

Present Day

Inside a hotel room, Jamie Condrack was packing his suitcase. On the thirty ninth floor of one of the hotels in Los Angeles, he had spent over half an hour on the balcony, staring out at the ocean. He was in the Malibu area. He knew one of those nice houses belonged to Dr Mark Sloan but he wasn't interested in that. What a coincidence…Jamie had been thinking about other things. He had been thinking about things that had happened since he arrived in Los Angeles. There had been the party, the many confrontations with Travis, the death of a man that his mentor knew and Jeanie Morgstone. How could so much happened in a week? He had thought about it whilst staring and listening to the faint sounds of the waves. It was something he didn't get to do in the heart of Germany.

He had cursed Jesse Travis over and over in his head. He couldn't believe how much trouble and hate he still had within the man. He only knew about Carl Graves through Dr Garrison but his name was widely known throughout Germany because he had set up the Hospital of Cardiac Arrest or HCA for short. Carl Graves was a very widely known man in Germany, even though he spent most of his time in America. Jamie did know a lot about it him even though Dr Garrison didn't seem to talk much about him.

Now after spending his time on the balcony, he had returned to packing his bag. He had half started it but most of the things were simply lying on his bed at the moment. But he began shoving them crudely into the bag, not caring about the mess. He would sort it out when he got back to Germany again. It was at that point that the door opened and Dr Garrison himself came in. He rubbed his hands together and smiled at Jamie who didn't return the friendly welcome. Dr Garrison paused, adjusted his glasses and sat on the bed opposite of Jamie's. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Jamie shrugged. "I don't even know myself any more. I don't think there is anything wrong, then why I am so bothered about everything."

"Well? What is this everything?" Dr Garrison urged him again.

"Just…just being here." Jamie slammed the suitcase in frustration, even though he hadn't finished. "It's been wrong ever since that party. I saw Travis there and that set off a whole load of sparks and memories that I didn't want to trigger. Every time I see him, I just go mad. I don't outwardly show it but I do. And I don't want to feel that way. I want to put it all behind me. When I go back to Germany, I am going to forget about him so I don't know why it's getting to me."

Garrison just nodded understandingly. "Well, such a grudge spanning a long time can simply make it automatic that you feel this way about young Travis. Just think a focus. It's like being in the operating room. The minute you lose your concentration on the matter at hand, then it all falls apart and the operation goes wrong. It could cost the man his life. Concentrate on trying to not be annoyed with Travis and therefore you will not shout at him."

Jamie nodded. "But do you know what that pathologist said to me. She must be Jesse's friend or something." You are some piece of work. I don't know a lot about you but I think I got everything I needed to ever know from that scene just now. Jamie shook his head. "Nevermind," he said repeating the words.

"Well," Dr Garrison said, getting up, "Whatever she said to you, I'm sure it isn't true. She's known you for a few days and I've known you for a few years. Okay, so you may have cheated." Jamie looked up at him.

"You knew?"

Dr Garrison nodded. "No matter how many times you have and you will deny it, Jamie, I knew you had cheated and got those answers. But I took you on anyway because I know there is no way you could have cheated at my academy. Look at you now, boy, you are one of the brightest students." Jamie smiled and shook his head in embarrassment as Dr Garrison poured a drink of whisky from the bar. "I shall say it now and I shall say it again, you have been one of the brightest students I have ever worked with in all my life. You have potential and then young spirit to be a great doctor."

"Like you?" Jamie asked.

Dr Garrison's face turned into shock. The glass dropped from his hand and the whisky sprayed onto the carpet. Jamie looked up in puzzlement. "No, boy, not like me. You should never become like me. I don't want you to be me…I want you to be yourself. Be good at yourself with your own elements. Be unique and shine through in a different way. Not like me—an old doctor who is passed his ways and has nothing left to live for."

Jamie shook his head. "That's not true. You're one of the best…"

Garrison put up his hand to silence his protégé and Jamie remained that way as he picked up the rest of the glass from the floor and placed it on the mini bar top. Then he got a dishcloth and covered the whisky stain with it. Finally, he straightened up. "I know why else you're upset. It's about that woman, Jeanie Morgstone, isn't it?"

Jamie frowned. "Do you keep tabs on me or something."

Garrison shook his head. "No, no," he said innocently. "It's just that when you do not return home for the majority of the week, you begin to wonder and I have seen you a lot with that woman, Jeanie Morgstone. Very attractive, isn't she?"

"She's also dead."

Garrison sighed. "I know, I read it in the papers yesterday evening. I know that it must be hard for you. Young love is…sometimes special. But you knew that when you returned to Germany that having a relationship wasn't possible. She was just some sort of a fling you had and it was bound to come to an end. I'm just sorry it had to happen this way." He hoped he sounded convincing enough but he wasn't too sure. He was secretly glad that the whole thing had ended. It wouldn't have been too good for his young doctor to get involved with someone and then attempt to ruin his own career over her.

"She didn't mean anything to me," Jamie insisted but from the tone of his voice, he didn't seem too sure himself. "I met her, she was upset. She was young and yes, she was attractive. I did like her but I knew…it wasn't possible. I knew that," he tried to reassure himself.

Dr Garrison just nodded again. Then he looked at Jamie's bed. "What's all this, then. Packing and eager to get out already?" Jamie looked confused. "We're staying a little bit longer. You know, bask in the California sun, possibly a bit of surfing but I don't think it's quite for me." He smiled. "Looks like you have to unpack again."

* * * * *

It was now a few days later. Duke looked out beyond him. It was a battlefield out there. It was war. His knights in amour were winning and he knew it. He only had a few but combined with the nausea every so often, he was managing to win this war against his opponent. He studied in careful concentration. He didn't want to lose this one. Duke had been through many wars of his own but never one like this. This was something new and he was going to have to face it by himself. There was no one here to help him this time. Duke never thought he needed help. Though, this wasn't so much a personal war. It was a test of strength and skill—and Duke lacked in one of them. Even so, he picked up a piece and made a move. "Checkmate," he said.

Jesse looked down at the board in amazement and quickly assessed the situation. "I don't believe it," he said. "That's the second time you've beat me and I only taught you how to play chess in fifteen minutes."

"What can I say, I'm a natural," Duke said, leaning back again. "We've spent the past two and a half hours on this and I've become a winner both times. I never thought something like this could be so stimulating and relaxing."

Jesse smirked. "Do you even know what the words mean?"

Duke gave him a sarcastic look. "I'm not totally thick. Believe it or not, I can put a sentence together." He watched as Jesse gave up and put the pieces back into the box again. "I read some of these books lying around the place even that medical one your left last night. Interesting but I didn't get it."

Jesse laughed. "I don't really expect you to understand how to flush out a person's colon."

Duke shrugged. "Hey, I don't even know which side my stomach and my livers are on. All I know is where the heart is and where the brain is because if you want to kill fast and painlessly and quietly, that's the place to put the trigger." He looked back satisfied at Jesse's disgusted face.

"Good thing you're not a doctor. You'd probably plunge them to death with a scalpel half way through an operation." He set the box aside and sat back in his chair again, stretching a bit. "It's been three days. Your are definitely better. In fact, almost better enough to get out of here." Duke looked at him pliantly. "Don't look at me like that." Duke smiled and Jesse opened and packet of chips to eat. "You're not allowed these and I don't think you want them—my shift's ended. Well, Caitlin—the Goth girl—has agreed to do it. You know what she said to me. She said 'stuff this up-ass job. I need some excitement anyway.'"

Duke laughed. "Is she on Community Service here?"

Jesse nodded. "Uh huh, and she doesn't care about it at all." He took another handful of crisps. "What's the point in doing this if you're going back to crime."

Duke shook his head and looked at the doctor. "I swear you're on something, man. You seem a little bit more high than usual. You on the coffee again like you were yesterday?"

Jesse looked at him blankly. "I survive on coffee in this place. If you work the night shift then you definitely need it." He tipped the rest of the crisps in his mouth. "Then again, it could be the excitement of going against all the rules my mentor and friends taught me, to bust out a hitman and send him back on the road to killing again." He shook his head, crumpled up the packet and tossed it in the bin behind the chair he was sitting in.

Duke shook his head and pushed himself up in the bed again. "I know, I know, you're still pissed off about it. I don't blame you. No one asked you to do this."

Jesse leaned low in his seat lazily and gave Duke an incredulous. "I know I'm going to regret this later because of the coffee, but I actually want to do this. Don't go into this whole friendship thing again cause I'm sick and tired of it. I just want some fun and excitement for once in my life—an excitement that doesn't involve danger. Then again this does but that's besides the point. It's the thrill. I'm fed up of just being at the side of these cases. Now, I'm in the middle."

Duke laughed again. "Go have a lie down, Doc."

Jesse shook his head. "I'm not tired. Steve came by my apartment last night and we were talking about the progress of the case and how it's going with Machu Lie."

Duke shook his head. "Machu Lie didn't hire me."

"Hmm, I'm sure and I know you're not going to tell me who did. But don't forget, there are two killers running around here: The one that hired you and the one that decided to put matters into his own hands." The hitman grimaced and Jesse paused. "Uh-oh. What?"

"Well…I haven't been entirely truthful."

"That wouldn't be a first."

Duke narrowed his eyes with mock threatening. "Will you just shut up and listen." Jesse took up the role of a patient schoolboy and Duke laughed again. "Man, I can't even have a conversation with you. But this is serious. I wasn't going to the killing."

"What do you know, a hitman with cold feet."

"Kid!" Duke said and Jesse shut his mouth again. "I wasn't going to do it but I had a better offer elsewhere. I told the man that wanted Carl dead that I couldn't do it. It happened that in the end that the other person didn't need the job done. I didn't get the chance to call the man who wanted Carl dead so I just turned up to get the job done and to get paid after whereas before."

Jesse nodded. "So, technically, the killer could still the man who hired you. He found out that you couldn't job so he still decided to do it by himself anyway and got some Cyanide to put into his drink. He did that before you had the chance so when you turned up the scene and shot him dead, that must have freaked him out. He thinks that you might still be asking for money. It's still the same person, I'm sure of it." He thought the conclusion around in his head. It was possible—very possible. How many people could hate Carl Graves to kill him?

"You going to tell your pals?" Duke asked.

Jesse sighed. "Don't put me into that position, Duke. It's hard enough for me as it is. I'm already trying to bust you out of here. That at least gets you free. It doesn't matter if the other killer says because everyone knows you shot him anyway but by that time you'll be free and out of here." He leaned closer to Duke and Duke turned his head to hear as Jesse's voice quieted. "Now, you listen, cause I'm not going to be here to do much of the word. It relies mainly on you. We're going to have to do this today. I think Mark, Steve and Amanda are getting suspicious. Here's how it goes…"

Outside the room, Mark and Steve Sloan were watching them through half drawn blinds. The occupants in the room couldn't see them; but then again, neither Steve nor Mark could hear the conversation going on inside. Every so often, they could hear and see either Jesse or Duke laughed, or making some sort of wisecrack to the other. "It's the most strangest relationship I've ever seen, don't you think so?" Steve said.

"Yes, considering their backgrounds," Mark said. Steve looked questioningly at his father. "Well, Duke is an international hired killer. Jesse is an every day LA doctor. A most unlikely pair. But then again, Duke Lotella is only human. Doesn't everyone have a right to have friends?"

He turned round to walk away and Steve followed him. "But, dad, the guy is hired to kill people. You think someone deserves to have a friend. Let alone Jesse, who has no idea what he's getting himself into. Jesse is getting himself too involved with," he said, pointing back to the door. "If they become too much like friends then we are in trouble."

"I think we already are," Mark said calmly. "You won't pry them away now."

Steve nodded. "That's what I was afraid of."

Amanda walked up to them. "Steve, what's the verdict looking on Machu Lie?"

Steve grimaced. "Very guilty by the look of it. His motive his very strong and from my eye witness testimony, it definitely looks as though he had the capability and time to do it. The only thing we are lacking is the proof that he hired Duke."

Amanda looked towards Duke's room. "Do you get the feeling that Jesse could be hiding something from us?"

"Like what?"

"Like who the killer really is?"