Queen of Spades

Ms. Lee took one last breath of outside air as she hastily walked through the revolving door.  She was getting used to the smell of hotel lobbies and rooms, but she preferred the smell they had in Japan.  She slowly sipped more coffee as she reached for her back pocket, hoping she hadn’t lost her room key.  “Ms. Lee!” came a voice from the front desk.  She stopped for a moment and looked around, but she didn’t see anyone else in the lobby.

“Me?”

“Room 621?”

“Well, that is me then.  What is it?”  She mentally accounted for the money she had left, and the quickest way to draw her concealed gun.  The clerk looked all of twenty-two years old, with perfect hair and a nervous smile that had her wishing she wouldn’t have to make a scene to get out.

“This came for you a few hours ago.”  The young man slid an envelope across the counter towards her.  She sat her coffee down and looked at the envelope with a mix of confusion, concern, and curiosity.  “Is there something wrong Ms. Lee?”

“No…it’s…well…I didn’t think anyone knew I was staying here.  I just got into town a few days ago.”

“Are you enjoying New York so far?” His question was sincere, and she tried to find the appropriate response.

“It’s a nice place to visit.”  She slid the envelope towards her, and picked it up.  “Thanks” she said as she smiled and took her coffee.  She could feel his stare and smile all the way to the elevator.  She pressed the number six and examined the envelope.  It was addressed to one Brenda Lee at room 621.  The envelope didn’t feel heavy; it almost felt empty.  She stepped out of the elevator and started to shake the envelope.  There was something in it, but not a letter or money.  It sounded like a business card.  Once she was back in her room, she tossed her jacket onto the bed, along with her gun.  She tore open then envelope and reached inside.  She pulled out a card with a black, checker-board like back.  She glanced nervously out the window, then back at the card.  She turned it over, and there she found the queen of spades with some small writing along the white border:

ST LUKE’S CHURCH 1 PM WEAR BLACK

***

She nervously looked at her watch, which read 12:45 PM.  She had been up all night in the city, looking for the kind of work they don’t advertise in the papers.  The church didn’t look too busy, but there was a hearse out front.  She straightened her black jacket, and looked down at her boots.  The knee-high boots weren’t funeral appropriate, but she didn’t have time to go shopping for funeral attire.  She pushed open the main door, and wound her way to the sanctuary.  There weren’t more than thrity people in the pews, and the black casket at the front of the church didn’t have any viewers.  This is a waste of time, or a trap, or both she thought to herself as she started backing out of the church.

“Walk with me.”  The voice was calm and monotone, yet also very forceful.  She turned around, and blocking her exit was a man, who looked no more than six feet tall.  He was wearing a dark grey trench-coat, dark glasses, and what looked like a fake mustache.  His hair was straight out of the Austin Powers wig department, and in his black suit’s front pocket she spotted a playing card turned backwards, revealing the same checkerboard style pattern that was delivered to her earlier.

“Okay” she said, turning around as the man slowly walked with her up the aisle.

“You got my message” he said quietly.

“And yet, for some reason, I’m here.  How did you find me?”

“That’s what I do.  I find people.  I find information.  I find what those who seek are looking for.”

“Did the Shinjo family send you?  Are you some kind of weird bounty hunter?”

“Bounty hunter?  My dear no…nothing of the sort.  I don’t sully myself with that end of the transaction.  I have people for that work.”

“So you’re an information broker.  I probably can’t offer you more than the Shinjo family is offering.  I’ll be lucky if I can keep my hotel room another few days.”

“Maybe if you didn’t stay at expensive hotels all the time.  There were better options in Los Angeles, Dallas, Omaha, Cleveland, Charleston, Dover and New York.”

She glared at the man with the bad disguise with contempt.  “So, you’ve been following me across the country.”

“Yes, along with your weak attempts at finding work.  A lot of American organized crime doesn’t like to cause trouble with their Japanese counterparts, and most don’t seem to be lining up to hire someone with a price on her head.”

Desperate to change the subject, she took the opportunity of being at the front of the church.  “Who’s the funeral for?”

“Esra Palacios.  She was one of my best.  Sadly, she followed a bad hunch and fell in over her head.  I must give the funeral home credit, I didn’t think this would be an open casket.”  She looked at the body in the coffin.  The young woman looked quiet, peaceful, and almost fake.

“So why bring me here?  So you can brag about your network, and how the Shinjo Family is going to take me out once I walk out of this church?”  She was very aware of where her gun was, and she was mentally drawing a map of the street outside for cover and where shots might come from.

“The Shinjo family thought you’d be dead by now.  You’re alone, no friends, no job, no direction…”

“Yeah, well I’ve done alright so far.”  She turned away from the casket and took one step away.

“Have you now?  You should see this.”  She heard the man reaching into his trench-coat, and while her brain told her to leave and not look back, she looked back.  He was holding a blank envelope.  She took it away, and reached inside.  She pulled out a clipped newspaper story about a Japanese man who was found in the bay.  There was another story about a Japanese tourist who was found shot in his motel room in Dallas.  The envelope had at least four more clippings, and all had dates written on them, that were very close to the dates she had been in those cities.  “You see, I’ve had my eye on you since you thinned the Shinjo herd.  When I found out you were crossing the pond, I wanted to hire you.”

“So, you used your organization to protect me, then you offer me a job thinking I’ll be so grateful I’ll just hop right on board.”

“Cynical is no way to go through life.  I failed at my lifetime dream, but now I’m much better off for it.  If you take my offer, the pay will be more than enough, plus I include a luxury apartment for free.  I just ask your complete loyalty and the ability to get what I need, no qualms or questions.”

“What about the Shinjo family?”

“They hired me to find you and bring you in.  I’ll provide them with a reasonable facsimile.”  The man smiled and started walking down the aisle.  She walked behind him, looking at the wide variety of people in attendance.

“Who are these people?”

“Mostly my other employees.  Some are her friends and family.”  They were soon at the back of the church, and the man took a deep breath.  “I need to know now.  Are you in our out?”

She took a deep breath as she looked around the church.  “All right.  I’m in.”

“Good” the man said.  “You should really stop using the name Brenda Lee.  Maybe you can finally start using your real name?  The Shinjo family doesn’t know it.”

“Do you?” She asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.

“I know many things Mokoto Igawa.”  His smile started to look more sinister with every passing second.

[This wound up being a background story for one of the main characters at my last project, Cliffhanger Theater.  It wasn't what I had in mind, but it was the best idea I had this week.]