The Loyal Lieutenants Act Zero Scene Eight

Act Zero

Scene Eight.

 

Mardian stood there at the corner and watched the guest of Egypt lying on the divan, talking to the lady. He was dressed in the toga favoured by the Romans. The lady was seated across from the other divan, dressed in the silky sequined dark dress and her hair cut in the bob style. They were without the maids or guards as requested by the lady, but the Pharoah was insistent that Mardian was present but discrete at the corner.

They were sailing the Nile as part of the leisure activity of their meeting. It was over a week then, and the guest was most comfortable there.

“Cleop,” Caesar called her by name. “Tell me of your studies.”

“As mentioned before, I was tutored in the palace by the tutors daily from morning till afternoon. This has been true since I was five years old. I was taught arts, languages, and mathematics. Later in my life, I was taught astronomy and ballet.”

“Most interesting.” Caesar smiled. “I was in public school, and most of the time, I was playing on the fields. I was more into athletics. When I was seventeen, I left school and worked many jobs. That was when I joined the Romans. I was the brave one to take on the others in the fights. It may be over the areas or, at times, the girls.”

“Were you hurt then?” Cleop asked. “I meant over the girls.”

Caesar smiled and thought of his past. He had done many things during his earlier years as a Roman. He fought the others who were older than him; he got his head busted and bones broken, but he was back for the next round until he won. As for the girls, they came with the wins.

“Your injuries?” Cleop asked.

“I had a few injuries, but nothing serious.” Caesar lied then. He had bouts of headaches and the occasional lapse of unconsciousness; none of them were seizures. His family kept silent about that ailment.

“I meant the girls.” Cleop was asking again.

“Oh, they... I know a few.” Caesar was smiling. “There was Helen, Artemis, Gaia, and...”

“Do not pull my leg there. Those are the Greeks' deities, or Helen was not one, but she was at Troy and caused the war.” Cleop laughed. “I know my history.”

“You do? I was telling you the names here.” Caesar laughed. He did like history, especially the Greeks’ myths. “Those ladies existed.”

“They did, but not in your life.” Cleop laughed, then she looked at him in the eyes. “Do you like them? Do you... fantasize about them?”

“Me? I ……” Caesar was caught off guard there. “I do not...”

“From my readings, psychoanalytic feminism is a theory of oppression that asserts that men have an inherent psychological need to subjugate women. The root of men's compulsion to dominate women and women's minimal resistance to subjugation lies deep within the human psyche. In their fantasies, they hold that... vision.” Cleop read off her thoughts. “Do you agree?”

(https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/9781405165518.wbeosp115.pub2#:~:text=Psychoanalytic%20feminism%20is%20a%20theory,deep%20within%20the%20human%20psyche.)

“I …. I do not know. I do not... or shall I say, I do not hold any fantasy about it.” Caesar was blushing. “Why do you ask?”

“I was not asking. I was merely sharing with you my views. I had read about that topic in some notes.” Cleop was innocent at the time. “Psychology is an interesting subject.”

“Psy …...” Caesar struggled to follow on.

“Psychology. Most of my readings are from one researcher, Dr. Sigmund Freud. His theory on sexual awakening from infancy to” Cleop was interrupted by the arrival of the maids’ fruits and drinks.

“Ah, the refreshments.” Caesar was relieved by the interruptions. He was outclassed by the younger lady. “Thank you, dears.”

“Shall we toast to...” Caesar was interrupted again.

“To a new realm of love and sex.” Cleop smiled, and then she drank her drink. It was Caesar's turn to follow suit. He felt himself astounded by the lady and, yet, aroused by her beauty. He had crossed his legs to avoid any embarrassment then. During his stay there, he hardly met with Ptolemy or even discussed any issues with their business.

“Tell me, Caesar. The war you had with... Crassus and Pompey. Was it a... civil war?” That question was not anticipated. For his own recollections, Lady Cleop was never anticipated in any discussions. Nor was her modesty seen by him on these occasions. He did wonder whether she knew of it or if it was intentional. He felt embarrassed, like when he first paid for his virginity to be taken by the prostitute at the age of sixteen.

“Well, it was...” Caesar stammered, but the lady was leaning over to hear him. He could not avoid the cleavage displayed to him. “I …….”

Mardian felt that discretion was needed and signalled for the maids to leave. He took leave with them and closed the door.

“Iras, come with me now.” Mardian called out to one of the maids.

“Oh, I am to come, sir." Iras smiled. She took off with him, leaving Alexas and Charmain holding the trays.

“What does he see in her?” Charmain asked Alexas.

“When you bend over, it all looks the same from their view. It is only the entry they select.” Alexas walked on.

“What does that mean?” Charmain still holds the wall in her, and Jericho has not come.

 

 

The Loyal Lieutenants Act Seven Scene Three Sub Scene Four

Act Seven

Scene Three

Sub-Scene Four

Dear mates, we have

 

Opium dens were typically portrayed as dark, hidden, underground spaces by the newspaper after some reporters suggested that to their readers. The den owners were supposed to entice and corrupt the patrons of these outlets. Most of these accusations were revealed to be lies. Opium smoking did spread eastward and catch on with a wide clientele from the members of urban underworlds and then more “respectable” people.

The subsequent Harrison Narcotic Act of 1914, originally intended as a regulation of medical opium, became a near-prohibition. President Woodrow Wilson’s Treasury Department used the act to stamp out many doctors’ practices of prescribing opiates to “maintain” an addict’s habit. The Supreme Court endorsed this interpretation of the law in 1919, when cities across the nation opened narcotic clinics for the addicted—a precursor to modern methadone treatment. The clinics were short-lived; the Treasury Department’s Narcotic Division succeeded in closing nearly all of them by 1921.

Some survived in their own enclaves, supported by their patrons.

It was also a money spinner like booze; that was the second attribute that spurred the establishments to set the moods.

Elliot was breathing through the handkerchief when he was ushering into the corridor with the chambers lined up alongside. From the outside street view, it looked like any medical clinic, but once you get in, you will be greeted by the list of ‘patients’ who were there to get the needed fix. He was led by Castella, with Albert at the rear. Chapin was outside in the vehicle for the fast getaway when needed.

“Charles Dickson?” Castella asked the staff there who was holding the pipes. The staff, who was not as oriental as assumed by many to work in such places, motioned to the chamber on the left. Castella looked towards it and saw the thin frame figure on one of the two velvet divans there. It was not any shabby den but an expensive décor chamber, with the phonograph at the corner churning out the jazz score. The walls of the chamber were adorned with gaily wallpaper depicting the beautiful trees and flowing streams.

The figure was middle-aged and lying on the divan without the jacket, his shirt unbuttoned with the opium pipe at his lips. The gun in the holster was on the table next to the divan.

“Who’s asking?” The guy lying there mumbled out, his eyes glassy. He was in a daze and took another puff on the pipe.

“Elliot Ness, Trea...” Albert stopped Elliot.

“Albert Buddy. I am from New York.” Albert raised his right finger to his lips toward Elliot. “I am here to ask you about Lucas Perry.”

“Treasury sicko.” The guy mumbled. “Yeah, I know him. What is up?”

“Lucas is a friend, but he was posted to Rome. It was a cushion task there, but he bungled it. He got his arse in some issues there and came down to see me.” The figure took another puff on the pipe. “I could not help.”

“What issues, Charles?” Elliot asked.

“Who are you? Where are you from again?” Charles asked. “Do I know you?”

“I am Elliot Ness, Treasury.” Elliot spoke out. “Charles, I need to see your badge.”

“To hell, I will show you.” Charles pushed himself up to a seated position and reached for the gun in the holster on the table by the divan. Castella rushed to grab the gun.

“Hey, that is my gun. If you hurt me, I will have you reported.” Charles looked at Albert and then Elliot. “Are you Treasury? Help me here. We are mates.”

“Charles, stay sober and tell us what Lucas was here for.” Elliot questioned the other agent. “Let me know.”

“Who are you again?” Charles was trying to focus. “Yeah, Lucas... He was here. He came to see me to get some scores on Egypt. He needed the numbers. I told him to fuck off.”

Charles slumped back on the sofa. Elliot grabbed him by the shoulders, but he was interrupted by the three staff that rushed in.

“Leave Mr. Dickson alone. He is not to be disturbed.” The three staff were bronzed and wore a simple tunic with ballon pants. “He is our customer.”

“Who are you?” The voice roared from the doorway. Elliot turned toward the person standing there. He was dressed like the other staff, but he held a huge cane in his left hand.

“Treasury A….” Elliot did not see the punch thrown by Castella, but it left the doorway open.

“Leave now!” Albert pulled Elliot out, followed by Castella. They ran out along the corridor towards the main entrance. Another staff member stood there and was body-slammed by Albert. Given the size of Albert, he made a fair tackle to clear the path. All three ran over the fallen staff and exited. Chapin saw the trio and pressed the pedal to drive over. He had the vehicle engine running since then; he was not keen to have the engine stalled when needed.

“Next time, Mr. Ness. Just say you are my mother’s nephew and not any Treasury agent, please. It may just give us some breather from being pursued.” Albert glanced behind. He then turned towards Chapin. “Can we go any faster? My mother could outrun us at this speed.”

No vehicle pursued them, and soon they were on the road out of Egypt. It was two hours when they pulled over at the street café there.

“Do you think we can all take a piss here?” Castella asked.

 

 

 

  

The Loyal Lieutenants Act Seven Scene Three Sub Scene Three

Act Seven

Scene Three

Sub-Scene Two

It looked and felt similar.

 

Enobarbus sat in the other vehicle of his own fleet, the Dodge Motor 30; a two-seat roadster with a 35-horsepower engine and a welded all-steel body, including the leather seats, electric lighting (with a twelve-volt system), a self-starter, and demountable rims. It could do fifty miles an hour, faster than the T-Ford at forty-five miles. That extra speed matters on the straights, but the bullet travels faster.

It was not that he wanted to avoid the many T-Fords on the streets, but at his age, he felt it was hip to be different.

“Take over here, Dan. I am going there.” Enobarbus pointed to the barber shop and stepped off the driver seat. “Wait here with the engine running.”

“Going for a trim, boss?" Dan was a good driver but not a smart guy to know when to ask. Enobarbus ignored the others. He walked across the street with his overcoat on and his hands inside the pockets. He opened the door and walked in.

“Care for a trim?” The barber was without any customers then. He was a short, stocky man with a thick moustache and receding hairline, giving him the appearance of a monk rather than a barber. It was his white, starched uniform that displayed his trade.

“Lucius? Where is he?” Enobarbus asked with the Browning gun in his right hand.

“Who? I do not...” The barber had a speedy recollection of his customers then. “Back room with Jacques.”

“Step outside for a coffee. Do not come in until I leave.” Enobarbus waved the gun towards the barber. The barber did not hesitate to leave, but he grabbed the early edition along. Enobarbus locked the front door and went to the rear of the barbershop. He did not need to know where the back room was, for the sounds of its working were heard from the doorway. He walked over and opened the door to step in.

It was not the desired sight.

“Yes…… Yes……” That pleasured moan of Lucius was obvious when Jacques was enacting the colonoscopy insertion then. The room also smelled of narcotic-filled smoke. Enobarbus walked up to the naked barber and pressed the gun at his bottom rear. Jacques paused in his moves.

"Continue, or I will make it harder for you.” Enobarbus whispered toward Jacques.

“Do not stop, my love.” Lucius Facedown was expecting more. Jacques complied with the request, though his lust was not going to last; Coitus exhaustum.

“Ah......Yes.” Lucius screamed out. He then fell back with his face toward the pillow.

Enobarbus motioned to Jacques to withdraw and move to the side. He then placed the gun at the back of Lucius’ head.

“Do not turn around, or I will give you a new hole.” Enobarbus toned down his voice to speak. “Tell me ......”

“Do you know who I am? I will...” Lucius was to push himself up, but Enobarbus pushed the gun harder at the head.

“Do not move or turn to look. I am not concerned with who birthed you. All I want are some answers.” Enobarbus pulled out the second gun from his pocket and placed it on Lucius’ spine.

“Answer me correctly, and you may get to walk. Or remain face down, whichever.”

“Now, tell me. What did you and Moses have in common with Lucas Perry?”

“You are a Roman...”

“Hush on the name-calling. Answer me.” Enobarbus pressed the gun hard at the head. He then looked at Jacques, who was seated there on the floor on his haunches with his legs spread and his knees drawn up.

“Oh, for god’s sakes. Do yourself. You look like a miserable kid there. Wank it!” Enobarbus told Jacques. He then looked back at Lucius. “Tell me now.”

Enobarbus pushed the gun at the spine.

“I do not...” Lucius said, and Jacques got shot in the groin. That ended the need for the barber, but he did try, given the extreme condition.

“Okay.... okay. I will tell.” Lucius moaned out.

“I knew Lucas through Moses. We met and discussed the rollback of proceeds. I did not agree, and it was stalled then.”

“Do tell me more.” Enobarbus pressed on.

“I was told that Egypt was involved. They have their wares shipped through your ports. They were in collaboration with Pompey, and Lucas wants a cut there.”

“What did they do?” Enobarbus asked.

“I would not know. They went to Egypt after they met someone from there.” Lucius sighed. “I knew about that much.”

“Who did they meet?” Enobarbus asked.

“I... “Lucius felt the gun press hard into his spine. “It was arranged by Pompey to meet Mr. Mardian. Honest, that is all I know.”

“Remain face down.” Enobarbus said to Lucius: “Do not peek, or it will be you next to your lover.” Enobarbus picked up the pants on the floor with the gun in his left hand and covered Lucius’ head. He then left. He walked to his vehicle and told Dan to move over. “I will drive.” 

 

 

 

 

.

 

 

  

The Loyal Lieutenants Act Seven Scene Three Sub Scene Two

 

Act Seven

Scene Three

Sub-Scene Two

Familiar, I be damned.

 

In the private chamber at the Madi Gras Club, Elliot took the second glass of the drink offered to him, the daiquiri, a cocktail whose main ingredients are rum, citrus juice or lime juice, and sugar or another sweetener. Place all in a cocktail shaker add all ingredients. Stir well to dissolve the sugar. Add ice and shake. He had sat there for an hour then, and twice he had been to the restroom.

“I am sorry to keep you waiting.” The figure stepped into the chamber. He was dressed in a loose shirt and tight, long pants that seemed to wrap around his legs. “My name is Mardian. I am the overseer of Mardi Gras Club and all that is owned by Egypt.”

“Elliot Ness, Treasury Agent. I am here...”

“I can assure you, Mr. Ness. The Mardi Gras do not have any illegal booze here. We are legit in the business.” Mardian smiled. “And to your friends from Rome, they are entertained by my girls in the adjacent chamber. We removed their guns; it's not allowed here. Yours is an exception. Treasury agents do not shoot wild.”

“I …… Thank you, Mr. Mardian. I was in the area, and I thought I should come in.” Elliot struggled to find the words to say.

“My pleasure, indeed.”

“How did you know I was in...” Elliot was cut off.

“In Egypt, we make it for us to know.” Mardian smiled.

“Egypt is not the city name.” Elliot looked at the other. “Yet, you...”

“Egypt is the namesake here. In Egypt, you are connected to everyone.” Mardian continued smiling. “Please feel free to...”

“Was Lucas Perry here before?” Elliot lacked the finesse to query properly.

“Lucas …... I do not recall. Maybe he came here with an alias. They do it in Egypt. We do not trumpet their names here.”

“Oaky, maybe he did. I was told he was here with Moses from Rome.”

“The only Moses I know was from the Book, but I am not one of that faith.” Mardian laid out his smile. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. I know Lucas Perry and was wondering where he was then.” Elliot, in turn, smiled.

“Lucas Perry? I will check with the staff here. I am sure they would not say it here too loudly, but I will inquire. He may not have come to Mardi Gras, but to some other places. We do not check where our clients may go.” Mardian was hospitable.

“He is a...” Elliot mumbled.

“Another drink for you? I liked the martini here. The Vesper Martini comprises three shots of London dry gin, one shot of vodka, and half a shot of dry French wine aperitif, shaken but not stirred. That is a man’s drink.”

“I may pass on that. I ……” Elliot politely refused. “I do not like it shaken. It becomes too fuzzy.”

“I guess men like them shaken while they get stirred at times.” Mardian had his tongue licking his upper lip.

“No, thank you. I think it is time for me to leave. I may have to use your restroom again.” Elliot stood up.

“You could pee into the bucket there. It is faster.” Mardian motioned to the bucket, half filled with ice. Elliot shook his head and left the club. Outside the place, he gagged on the drink that was welling up his throat.

“Mr. Ness, are you fine?” It was Albert who approached Elliot. “We arrived too late and were scared of our guns. But they entertained us inside. The lady was charming with the constrictor around her neck.”

“I ……” Elliot was still trying to keep his stomach down. “Even if I were not, would it have mattered then?”

“There is no reason to get nasty, Mr. Ness. We made some progress on our task here. We knew where Lucas Perry stayed, or rather, slept.” Castella smiled.

“Who told you? The constrictor?” Elliot was upset.

“Actually, the lady with the constrictor. Chapin charmed her with his cane, and she was all wordy towards him.” Castella smiled. “I know some new tricks with the cane now.”

“Tell me then.” Elliot asked. “Of where Lucas was?”

“No, we will show you, and this time with our guns.” Castella looked at Elliot and then added. “I think you need another pair of pants.”

 

 

 

The Loyal Lieutenants Act Seven Scene Three Sub Scene One

 

Act Seven

Scene Three

Sub-Scene One

Family issues

 

Lady Fulvia tossed the China bone cup across the library, barely missing Mark in the face. They met at the library at the mansion, and Mark told her of Cicero in Rome.

“I knew the snivelling fox would return to the old lair when Caesar left for Egypt.” Lady Fulvia was upset. She was dressed for her afternoon tennis lessons—the white dress that reached her knees and the high socks with the rubber shoes.

“Where is he?” The lady screamed out.

“I do not know. He may be gone by now.” Mark was exasperated by the lady’s anger. The conflict between the lady and Cicero was to be over, but she was still upset. “Cicero is not a threat to you anymore. Why are you still upset?”

“Cicero smeared my name and that of my family. I will not rest until he is dead, or... castrated to be a eunuch.” The lady rang the bell for the maids. It was Jeeves who stepped in, holding a new cup for the lady. He was used to the lady’s tantrums and offered to pour her more tea.

“Jeeves, where is Cicero?”

“I do not know, my lady. He was...” Jeeves lied then.

“I know you are not telling me the truth here.” Lady Fulvia snapped out.

“I am telling the truth, but... not all of it. The truth, but not the whole truth, my  lady." Jeeves stepped back. “Mr. Cicero is not here, and that is the truth. He was seen in Rome recently, which is also the truth. The other truth is here. I have not seen him lately. Another truth of mine.”

“Leave us, Jeeves.” Mark told the staff. Jeeves took his leave, and Mark then approached his wife.

“Cicero threatened Enobarbus, and I was told. He wanted to know about the case I was investigating for Caesar.” Mark looked at the lady. “I am trying, but we have no clues or evidence to pin on anyone.”

“You are not Sherlock Holmes or... the latterly famous Hercule Poirot by the lady author.” (Sherlock Holmes was first published in 1892, while Agatha Christie’s work on Hercule Poirot: The Mysterious Affair at Styles was published in 1920.).

“Exquisite work they both are.” Mark praised the authors, although he had not read any.

“Do not patronize me, Mark. All of you men are fake in your praises for women’s works. You did not read Agatha’s book.” Fulvia looked at Mark and saw the hurt in the other’s expression. “Okay, maybe you did.”

Mark leaned down to kiss the lady on her forehead.

“I will confront Cicero for his foolhardy act on Enobarbus.” Mark told the lady.

“And you should be careful. Cicero is close to Brutus and...”

“Brutus met me recently and told me some interesting news. It seems that he knew more about Egypt than we were told.” Mark looked at the lady. “Do you know anything there?”

“If you were not my husband, I would have shot you between the legs.” Lady Fulvia looked at Mark. Sometimes, it was difficult to determine if the lady was serious or pulling a prank.

“I would not know much. I knew of Egypt through Lucius. He was there some weeks ago. He did not tell me why he was there, but I think he was into his gig with the locals there. He stayed at the Mardi Gras Club; there they will entertain you with whatever you may fantasize about.”

“I knew of this because he asked me for money to pay his bills.” Lady Fulvia sighed. “Lucius could never live without his anus inserted.”

That was the lady’s profanity words she will utter instead of quoting the book in Jude 1:7–8.

“As Sodom and Gomorrha, and the cities about them in like manner, giving themselves over to fornication and going after strange flesh, are set forth an example, suffering the vengeance of eternal fire. Likewise, these filthy dreamers defile the flesh." Mark recited the words from the passage.

“Lucius took offense to Moses quoting that paragraph in the sermons, but they were good friends, though not to bed.” Lady Fulvia smiled. “I like Moses too; his fierce sermons and his wife, Eva, cooked the best lemon meringue cake. She never knew of his work, thinking he was doing the irrigation work. If only she knew.”

“Lucius knew Moses?” Mark was surprised.

“Yes, Lucius knew Moses and the other guy, Lucas Perry. They will meet for the occasional smoke. They keep vain friends near them.” Lady Fulvia said. “I do not condone Lucius’s friends, but he is a grown man and needed his own realm, even though I disliked it.”

Mark had met Lucius a few times, and his opinion was that Lucius was not one he would get close to.

“Ask Jeeves where they go. He will tell you. Nothing evades Jeeves attention or side glances. He does peek at me when I am in the pool with the swimsuit or without.”

“He did?” Mark was upset. He was not sure of what—the part of Jeeves peeking or his wife swimming naked.

“Do not worry about that. I am more concerned about Cicero.” Lady Fulvia looked at Mark. “Will you kill him for me?”

 

 

 

 

The Loyal Lieutenants Act Seven Scene Two Sub Scene Two

 

Act Seven

Scene Two

Sub-Scene Two

Egypt does not muddle.

 

“The very first food trucks date back to the chuckwagon. These covered wagons sold perishable food to cowboys and loggers in the wilderness. There you will find beans, cured meat, coffee, and biscuits. It would also carry water and wood to build fires. Some also functioned as mobile barbershops and dentist’s surgeries.” Elliot sat there by the truck, listening to the truck operator lay out his tale. He turned towards Albert and then to Castella. The latter was keen to invest in the business upon his retirement.

“Thank you, Mr. Roscoe. Please tell us what you know of the name Moses.” Elliot decided to move the subject.

“Oh, yah. I heard that name.” The food trucker smiled. “He was seated where you are now. He was with one other guy, named Lucas. They were met by this handsome guy. Mardian was his name. I saw him around.”

“Roscoe here has a good memory of people.” Castella smiled. “I was introduced to him by some friends who knew of Moses here.”

Some of the older guys retired here and were looked up to by Castella. He asked Moses, and they told him he was there.

“Moses, yes. Nice guy. He was here.” The food trucker smiled. “I took two bites of my hot dog and ordered two more to takeaway.”

“Mr. Roscoe, what did you remember of Moses?” Elliot felt like he was wasting his time.

“Moses? Ya, Moses. He was here with that other guy named Lucas. They spoke with this Mardian about some numbers and how they were going to go down. Roman numbers, it was.” Roscoe smiled. “Do you know the Egyptians invented the first ciphered numeral system, and the Greeks followed by mapping their counting numbers onto the Ionian and Doric alphabets?”

“Yes …... But what are Roman numbers?” Elliot pressed on.

“He did not make any sense then, but I knew the meeting was to take place that evening at the Mardi Gras Club.” Roscoe said. “They went there soon after.”

“Thank you, Mr. Roscoe.” Elliot got up from the seat. It was then that Castella saw the old boys from Rome rushing towards him. He met the older guy midway.

“Castella, I was just told that Rodney was shot as a warning to us. Leave Egypt alone. They know.” The older guy told Castella in between breaths. “Rodney told me before he died at the infirmary. Leave Egypt now.”

The older guy then pushed Castella and walked away. The former approached Elliot and told him the message.

“How do they know we are here?” Elliot asked.

“It is the same for us in Rome. The words will spread when any of the other gangs arrive. They will be met by one of us and asked questions.” Castella looked over his shoulder. “Egypt knew of us then.”

“Let us return to the hut.” Albert told them. “We need to be ready.”

“For what?” Elliot asked.

“To pack our things and leave, or get ready for a shoot-out.” Albert looked at Elliot.

“We could seek the coppers for assistance.” Elliot explained. “I could tell them my badge.”

“Mr. Ness, I am not keen to be killed by the coppers or Egypt. I am going back to Rome.” Albert shook his head. Castella and Chapin nodded in unison, but Elliot was not leaving.

“Go on ahead. I am staying here. I am going to Mardi Gras Club now.” Elliot walked his own path.

“Can I shoot him in the back?” Castella asked Albert.

“I will call Rome and ask for instruction. Meanwhile, Chapin. Gather all guns into the bag and meet us outside of Mardi Gras Club. Castella, you tag along, Mr. Ness.”

Mardi Gras Club adhered to the Spanish Mediterranean Revival style of architecture, with decorative columns, arched windows, clay barrel tile roofs, rough stucco walls, wrought iron, and spindle gates guarding picturesque courtyards. The only exception were the guards at the gates.

“I am Elliot Ness, a Treasury Agent. I am here to inspect the place.”

In almost all the cities then, the bootleggers flooded cities with prohibited booze during the Prohibition Era. The differences at Mardi Gras were the flappers: a woman with a short “bob” hairstyle, cigarettes dangling from her painted lips, and dancing to a live jazz band. There was also the "Pansy Craze," where gay, lesbian, and transgender performers graced the stages of nightspots. Female impersonators were the mainstay of the shows, enjoyed by all, including the straight gender.

“This is a private club, Mr. Agent. You need to get authority to come in.” The guard there stopped Elliot.

“Mr. Ness. Please do come in. I am Senor Pancho Santos, the club manager. We welcome you to Mardi Gras.” The gentleman approached Elliot. He was dressed in the white three-piece suit with the greased hairdo.

“Please come in and enjoy the cool air we have inside.” The manager offered the entrance to Elliot. “Mr. Mardian will join you shortly.”

 

 

Preys and Predators 1 of Part 4

 

4              The Researcher

 

Doctor Jekyll heard the mention of the doctor, and he turned his focus towards the direction. He caught the eyes of another. He recognized the identity of the person.

Sherlock Holmes.

It was a rarity to recognize the detective, but some prints had his sketch on them. It was not difficult to not match the real person to the sketch with the hat and coat, with the hawkish eyes and hooked nose. He had known some detectives in his works and readings; the more poignant ones were dressed in the fine tweeds and pompous attitude. Their mastery of these detectives was demure or aristocratic in the description, like Holmes; they worked on eliminating the clues. It was unlike the more adventurous detectives from the other western continent called the Pinkerton, or the Secret Services; the hunt and the shoot-out.

Doctor Jekyll then turned to leave the place. He hails a passing coach and boarded it in haste. When on the coach, he turned and saw the detective standing on the street. He turned his attention to the murder.

Two hours ago, Doctor Jekyll was nearby to meet an associate he met from the southern continent to discuss matters that were of interest. He was there three months ago, and the guest was back in the city. It was time to meet again.

Their last meet was eventful.

“You must try these flowers to extract the ingredients. It is practice there among the natives to pound the flowers to get the juices. It was supposed to make them invincible, but the correct amount to be administered to avoid any complications.” The guest was seated at the café table laid out on the pavement, serving tea and scones.

“What complications, Edward?” Doctor Jekyll leaned towards the adventurer he had befriended. He had known Professor Edward Challenger, who held beliefs in his works; the other was also embroiled in controversial issues like his discovery of the Lost World. He was rebuked as a mad explorer or delusional in his works, a reflection of the other doctor’s work.

“How could I explain it? I was there at one of the sessions, and the ‘Sangoma’; they are the traditional healers as we recognised them as such, but their actual contributions are somewhat difficult to categorise.” Professor Challenger, as he preferred to be named for the public, or the ones who saw him as the brawn among them.

“Come on, Edward. Please skip the trivialities and tell me about the real effects.” Doctor Jekyll pressed on.

“Henry, I was to tell. Please hold your patience.” The guest smiled, but his expression was hidden by the thick beard. “The session I was in was attended by three young warriors. They were there to undertake their next adulthood challenges. These were not the typical adulthood challenges: to be a warrior there, to bring back the feed, and to protect the tribe. This new level of challenge was to be the ultimate warrior—one that can defend from any adversaries. The issue was not all adversaries were of the physical realm.”

“Edward, I can sit through the night listening to your adventure, but can we skip the narratives...”

“Henry, I will be brief. The results were... crazy. Of the three warriors, two of them slipped into a... trance will be word.” The professor frowned on his eye brows.

“Trance? Come on, Edward. We have seen the effect of that. Tell me more.”

“There was more to the trance. The warriors I mentioned went into a frenzy and then the transformation. Their body frame expanded…”

“Please, Edward. It is impossible for the...” Doctor Jekyll felt his excitement dwindle there.

“Seriously, Henry. The body frame doubled in size, and their strength tripled.”

“Were you hallucinating, Edward?”

“No! I was sober. I had no whiskey that day. The session became intense, and one of them managed to pull the tree trunk from the ground. It was a huge tree.”

“It cannot be.” Doctor Jekyll shook his head. “I am...”

“Unsure? Seriously, Henry. You asked me, and I told you. I brought you the flowers here.” Professor Challenger pushed the bag he had on him. “It is the flower, or ‘impi isopoki’ by the natives. It's rare, and only the brave can find it or ever bring it back.”

“Are you sure this is not a hoax?” Doctor Jekyll looked at his friend.

“I am to leave now, Henry. My ship awaits me for another discovery.” Professor Challenger stood up. “I will be back in three months. Share with me the results.”

Professor Challenger knew that Doctor Jekyll was looking for a solution to enhance the body from pain. He had brought the flowers for him to try.

Doctor Jekyll did that, and the result was amazing. He developed a fear for it but found himself drawn to improve more on it, to the extent he had lost his mind over it.

Obsession.

Doctor Jekyll was obsessed with it, having experimented with other chemicals, and made starling results. He was still doing the random testing and made some extras of it into the vials he had locked in his lab.

The results were baffling.

He came to look for Professor Challenger. He was not sure of the flowers although he had extracted the juice. It was left in some vials when he had other important matters to handle. It was already three months since he met the Professor. He needed mor clarification before he tests the flower’s juice/

He had a fear to check with the professor.

The recent murders were one reason. It was claimed to be done by a monster.

Could the extracts make a monster?

Like a vampire.

Or a deranged warrior.

 

 

The Loyal Lieutenants Act Seven Scene Two Sub Scene One

 

Act Seven

Scene Two

Sub-Scene One

Cicero

 

Brutus was upset at being disturbed during his sauna, but he made an exception when he listened out on Cicero’s issue. He was at the Hot Bath House in Rome, a favorite haunt of his for his early morning sweat, with eight guards manning the doorway to the bath and the entrance of the house. He was being careful after Mark Antony’s attempt. He was alone, graciously, for he was not keen to be seen in an act.

“Cicero, there is a dress code in the sauna.” Brutus then had the towel over his lap, but he also has a gun beneath the seat wrapped in the towel in case it gets too hot to handle.

“I am... The bastard Enobarbus could have shot me.” Cicero had taken the bench across from Brutus, clad in his loose pants but without his shirt. His chest displayed the whip marks, which were his affinity for the somewhat more commonly known act of having a fuck.

“What did you do?” Brutus asked while he crossed his legs. He was not keen to be peeked at by that other person. It was not a teenager’s insecurity about who is with whom but the self-preservation of modesty.

“I approach him with an offer, since Moses is dead.” Cicero sighed. “A hasty move of mine and it...”

“You offered him to join you with money. Dearie, advocate of the law, you are fucked there. Enobarbus is always loyal to Caesar. He will not sell his soul to the devil if he knows Caesar is to be harmed.”

“I offer him to tell me about Mark Antony.”

“Mark Antony? The dark horse in Rome.” Brutus leaned back on the bench. “Do me a chore, Cicero, to atone for your error. Pour some water on the stones.”

Cicero did as he was told.

“Mark Antony is an enigma to the Romans. He is a loyal soldier, made his way up the ranks, and was sent off outside of Rome. He, according to Caesar, did a good task with the Sicilians, or we will all be speaking Italian by now instead of Latin. Godly nefarious of my mother’s intention to educate us with Socrates and Aristotle’s wisdom, we might as well learn the codes of conduct from the Tongs; they are more educational there.“

“Brutus, I am not here to listen to your mother’s rambling.” Cicero was the one getting upset.

“As such, I am not one to listen to your hasty action to recruit Mark Antony. I had my session with him recently, but he was... unapproachable. Untouchable will be the word; care to suggest that one day that will be the conduct of others, but Mark Antony for now is one.”

“Brutus, I am not here to listen to your oratorial skills. I am talking about Mark Antony. He pulled a gun on me.”

“And he is your enemy’s husband. Which technically made you his favorite enemy too. Did you fuck her before?”

“Leave the bitch out of the conversation.” Cicero was not bringing Fulvia into the conversation. “And no, we never fuck in the physical sense.”

“So, you did have fantasies of doing her.” Brutus smiled.

“No. I did not.” Cicero lashed out. “Stop baiting me. I fucked whoever I fucked. Now back to Mark Antony... I meant Enobarbus.”

“Why Mark An... Enobarbus? 上帝 (Shangdi—God in Chinese).” Brutus exclaimed. He saw Cicero looking at him. “Okay, I did pick up some of those words. I dine at their shops. You should try their dumplings.”

“Yes, why did you approach Enobarbus?” Brutus brought the focus back.

“They were investigating the case of Moses and Isaac. And I was told it was leading to Lucas Perry. Those three are linked to us. I need to know what they are planning on.”

“Do you know I spilled the beans on Moses that he was in Egypt?” Brutus looked at the surprised Cicero. “I also told Mark that there was a revolt in the plans for Rome. All that...”

“Will lead to us.” Cicero sighed.

“Not necessary, if you know how tall the olive tree grows. Not very tall. Just as our whisperings will not go far, but deep rooted in their minds of Mark Antony and soon Enobarbus. He may question me further or take the bait to go towards Egypt. I am not expecting him to get much from there, but it will occupy his time. And avoid our plans here in Rome.”

“Egypt is our friend.” Cicero looked at Brutus.

“For now, but if we played our cards well, Egypt may be a minion of Rome. That will be up to Caesar there. If Mark and Caesar are in Egypt, we are without bounds.”

“What of the other lieutenants?”

“Among the trio, one or two are with us. They can be convinced to join the victors of the war.” Brutus smiled. “My other concern is Lady Fulvia. She holds a part of Mark Antony’s power here. You must take care of her... permanently.”

“I would not ……” Cicero sighed.

“Try Lucius. I hear he is delicious.” Brutus smiled.

 

 

 

The Loyal Lieutenants Act Seven Scene One Sub Scene Three

 

Act Seven

Scene One

Sub-Scene Three

I was fucked.

 

Elliot sat on the porch of the hut they rented at the beach, overlooking the sea and the strong breeze that blew from the sea. It was not his call to get the place, but the trio who accompanied him had the final choice. He had traveled to Egypt; they all called it that name, although it was neither the name of the city nor the district.

“Are you looking for Egypt?” The toll collector had responded to their query for directions. “Take a right after five miles and proceed on till you see the swamps. Then you ask directions from there. Be careful when you drive on those roads. I would not suggest you speed, or you might end up in the water. Them alligators do not prefer on their diet; they just chomped your leg first or your pelvis.”

Albert thanked the toll collector, who had a protruding hair piece that looked like a pecan pie, wrongly baked with the insides protruding out.

"You should be smart there, and do not do any rubbernecking there. They might just get it removed faster than you can say no to them.” The guy there swung his ascent to the southern drawl. “Me? I am going to Memphis soon, but golly, they need a fresh dose of music there.”

“What’s his name there?” Castella asked.

“I did not ask. The way he pressed to the window makes me think of Lucille when we did it in the shower.”

“I thought it was Grace Nelly.” Castella said.

“No, it was not.” Albert defended his choice of who was in the shower and almost collided with the alligator crossing the road. He swerved in time and avoided the collision.

“That was some fine driving you did.” Elliot, having lost his gall bladder, then recovered in time to praise Albert.

“It was that, or we get rubber-necked by others on the road.” Albert turned his focus to the road. “And she was not Grace Nelly. With her, it was on the rooftop.”

Chapin was then stomping his feet and nodding his head vigorously.

“Shut up, Chapin. You were not there.” Castella told the silent one.

“I did, I saw, and I came.” Chapin's rare words made Elliot laugh for the first time they met. Elliot was not smiling on the porch when he saw Albert seated next to him on the porch.

“Why are we here? Why can't we stay at the motel or even the homes?”

“Mr. Ness, sir. If we did, by then, Egypt would know we were in their territory. Here it is safer and more to it; we wanted to enjoy the sunset.”

“Just curious, Albert. Who was it in the shower?” Elliot thought of starting a conversation.

“It was Patty Marianna Carli; she is Castella's ex-wife's sister. Not Lucille. Patty was the one I married after Albert divorced his wife. We had a jolly reunion at the wedding that day. Boy, was he fucked to see me married to his ex-sister-in-law? His ex walked up to him and said that is ‘one lady you would never get to fuck’. He cursed at her, and her beau punched Albert. Soon, we had a rumble among the guys and some other drunken ladies, but it was fun.” Albert laughed. “Chapin was there. He was charming, like an ape in a glass shop. He swung his cane at everyone. He got Lucille after the ball that night.”

“I am sure that was fun.” Elliot smiled. He had never had a wedding yet.

“The fun was later when Grace and I were in the shower. There was Tabitha too.” Albert smiled. “It was... earth-shattering.”

Elliot was to challenge Albert for the lady’s name but declined. He was not to disclose that he was still a virgin then.

“Ever done that?” Albert asked.

“In the... barn, and...”

“I meant the wedding fight.”

“Nope.” Elliot felt fucked then. He was saved by the timely arrival of Castella.