Liars and Tyrants and People Who Turn Blue (18 page)

“Who would ever think of using the
United Nations
as a weapon in an internecine political squabble?!? What gall! Li Xijuan makes Heinrich Schlimmermann's power lust look like nursery play. And her willingness to display herself as a mass murderer before the world?” Martel shook his big head in wonder.

“What the rest of the world thinks doesn't matter,” Sir John said. “Superior—inferior, remember. We're the inferior.” A phone on a sideboard buzzed softly; Sir John walked over and took the call.

“I'm a little slow,” Martel said to Kevin. “Did her plan succeed?”

“We think so,” Kevin, answered. “There's been no movement of Chinese troops north. We alerted Militia HQ, of course, and our own troops and equipment on the Mongolian border are being reinforced right now. One way or the other, Li Xijuan is getting what she wants. There'll be no invasion of Mongolia this year.”

“Puts us in a peculiar position, doesn't it?” Martel grumbled. “The woman stopped a war—or at least postponed it for a while. But at what cost! The casual sacrifice of the lives of five thousand people in no way involved with China's political infighting—it's inexcusable. I must inform the other members of the commission. We'll have some hard questions for Li Xijuan tomorrow—”

“I'm afraid you won't get to ask them,” Sir John said dourly as he put down the phone receiver. “Li Xijuan and Schlimmermann have both disappeared.”

Martel looked stunned. “Disappeared? You mean they've escaped?”

“Nothing to escape from—they weren't even under house arrest. Their diplomatic immunity can't be revoked because they're being investigated. All we could legally do is place them under ‘diplomatic restraints'—which means we ask them not to leave New York. We can't enforce the request. Their residences have been under surveillance, of course, but not guarded. They could just walk out the front door at any time and we couldn't stop them. Even now we have no authority to make an arrest.” Sir John looked hard at Martel. “Not unless a criminal charge is brought against them by an authorized agency or commission of the United Nations.”

Martel nodded, once. “We'll vote on an indictment as soon as I can call the commission together,” he promised grimly.

“In that case, Ambassador, you'll excuse us? We have no time to lose.”

CHAPTER 39

LORD HELP THE MISTER

(
who comes between me and my sister
)

Where Tee's apartment door had six locks on it, Shelby's had only four. Each sister had keys to the other's apartment, which neither had ever used—until now. It took Tee a while to discover which key fit which lock, but eventually she got her sister's door open. So when Shelby returned from New Brunswick, it was to find a blue-glowing Tee waiting inside for her.

“Oh, Shelby, I was so worried! I can't get in touch with Max and I don't know where Kevin Gilbert is and the police won't help and Dr. Wedner said you'd already left and—”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute—what's wrong?”

“Schlimmermann's escaped!”

“Escaped?”

“Disappeared, the news said. Li Xijuan too, but that doesn't matter because she's not mad at you but Schlimmermann is and—”

“And you think he's coming after me?”

“Well, he might.” Tee's voice rose shrilly. “He's a crazy man, Shelby, and he hates you and—”

“Oh, I don't think there's any real danger,” Shelby said, nevertheless turning back to check the locks. “Take it easy, Tee. Tell me exactly what happened.”

“I don't know what happened.” Tee sank down disconsolately on the sofa. “There was a news bulletin on the radio. All it said was that Schlimmermann and Li Xijuan had violated their ‘diplomatic restraints'—whatever that means. They've disappeared, and the New York police are helping UN Intelligence look for them. That's all I know.”

Shelby sat on the sofa arm and thought this over. “If they've both decided to make a run for it, they're probably trying to get as far away from New York as they can. I don't think Schlimmermann would hang around here just for a chance of getting back at me.”

“Shelby, you know he's not rational! He thinks he can do anything—the man thinks he's God. He could very well want to ‘punish' you before he … before he goes on and does whatever it is he wants to go on and do.”

In spite of herself, Shelby shivered. “You said you called the police?”

Tee made a face. “They say they can't spare anyone to stand guard. They don't seem to think you're in any real danger.”

“Well, I don't either,” Shelby said briskly, putting a decisiveness into her voice she didn't really feel. She flipped on the television. “Watch to see if there are any more announcements. I've got to take a shower—I feel grungy. There's nothing on this time of day but reruns—they'll interrupt if there's any news.”

Tee nodded listlessly and stared at the screen. Once in the shower Shelby decided to wash her hair as well. Ten minutes ago she hadn't felt in any particular need of cleansing, but the news about Schlimmermann had made her feel dirty. Hot water and lots of suds—that would help.

She pulled on an old terry cloth robe Eric had left behind and went out to find Tee sitting hypnotized on the edge of the sofa. “What's so fascinating?”

“Oh, just Mr. Spock leaning in a doorway,” Tee said without looking away from the screen. “Grinning from ear to ear for all the world like an overgrown elf.”

“Grinning? I thought he never even smiled.”

“It's not really Mr. Spock who's grinning, just his face,” Tee explained. “There's somebody else inside his body.”

“Oh sure, I should have figured that out for myself.” Shelby stood behind the sofa toweling her hair, looking over Tee's head at the television set. The enmity between Mr. Spock-Who-Was-Not-Mr. Spock and Captain Kirk-Who-Was-Not-Captain Kirk was coming out into the open.
Be careful! Danger!

CCRRAA-AA-AA-ACCKK!

The sound made both Shelby and Tee jump. “What is it?” Tee cried.

CRA-A-A-ACK!
it came again. Both women swiveled toward the door and saw the end of a crowbar poking through between the door and the frame, splintering the wood of both the door and the jamb.
Eric always said we should have a steel door put in
, was all Shelby could think.

Now the crowbar was hacking away at the door, knocking pieces of splintered wood to the floor. Shelby stood frozen at the sight of the crowbar penetrating her defenses, its phallic invasion of her space making her numb with fear. It was the sound of Tee whimpering that brought Shelby out of her trance. She made a dive for the phone and managed to dial 911 before what was left of the door gave way.

Heinrich Schlimmermann stepped through the doorway. Breathing heavily from his exertions, tense, carrying more hatred than he knew what to do with. He saw Shelby at the phone—and without stopping to think, heaved the crowbar at her.

She almost got out of the way. The crowbar hit only a glancing blow against the side of her head, but it was enough. Shelby dropped like a ton of bricks. As she went down she was vaguely aware of someone SCREAMING,
screaming
, screaming …

… screaming,
screaming
, SCREAMING! The tickle of carpet dust in her nostrils brought her back to consciousness.
Rug needs shampooing
, she thought dully. Who's that screaming … Tee? Is that Tee?
Schlimmermann! What's he doing to Tee?

Painfully she lifted her head and tried to see what was happening. She could barely make out two fuzzy figures with their arms wrapped around each other. Almost an embrace—no, it
was
an embrace. What was Schlimmermann doing to Tee? Why were they embracing? Shelby made a desperate effort to focus her eyes and saw it wasn't Schlimmermann and Tee at all—it was Captain Kirk kissing a woman member of his crew. The screaming was coming from another part of the room.

Shelby pulled herself up to her knees, aware for the first time that the front of her robe was covered with blood. She started to crawl in the direction of the screaming. And then she saw.

Tee had her hands locked into Schlimmermann's neck, her steel fingers digging into his throat. Schlimmermann was beating at her with his hands and arms and kicking at her. Every time a blow landed, Tee screamed. But she held on.

A wave of dizziness swept over Shelby. She fought down a need to vomit and forced herself to go on with her crawl toward Tee and Schlimmermann. When next she looked the German was down on his knees, his eyes and mouth wide, his hands pulling at Tee's arms. But his movements were weak, ineffectual. Tee kept screaming, screaming.

By the time Shelby reached her sister, Schlimmermann's arms were hanging limply at his sides. Tee's eyes were glazed, seeing nothing, her hands like a vise around the German's neck. And still she screamed.

Shelby used a chair to pull herself to her feet and shouted to make herself heard over her sister's screams. “Tee, let go! It's all over! You can let go now! Tee,
look at his face!
”

Tee turned her glazed eyes toward Shelby and gradually brought them back into focus. Then she looked at Schlimmermann.

His face had turned blue.

Tee unlocked her hands and let Schlimmermann fall away from her. The two sisters stood huddled together, their arms around each other, staring at the dead man on the floor.

“Ahead warp factor one,” said Captain Kirk.

CHAPTER 40

TAKE TWO ASPIRINS

Sic transit gloria mundi
.

(On Monday Gloria threw up in the subway.)

This too shall pass
.

Already the horrors of yesterday were beginning to dim. Shelby and Tee were beginning to see and feel and think normally again, awed by what had happened and grateful to find they were both still alive.

They'd still been holding on to each other by Schlimmermann's body when the police stepped through the shattered doorway—followed immediately by Kevin Gilbert. Kevin had taken in the scene in one glance and moved into action. He flashed his ID at the officer in charge, put one arm around each of the sisters, and swooped them both off to a hospital before anyone could think
Call an ambulance
.

The hospital was a scene of confusion for Shelby—strange voices, bright lights, funny smells. Fingers poking at her. Once, flat on her back, she looked up to see a white-faced Max peering down at her. “Tee?” she asked him.

“She's all right,” Max had time to say before someone told him to leave.

Shelby didn't notice she'd lost her bloody robe and was wearing a hospital gown until they were taking stitches in her scalp. “Only four stitches,” a voice reassured her. “It's not bad at all. But we want to keep you here overnight for observation.”

Tee had quite a few cuts and bruises where Schlimmermann had hit and kicked at her. But she was quickly patched up, given a sedative, and sent home with Max. “Do you think the Boston Symphony will still want me after this?” she asked woozily as they left.

“The only thing the Boston Symphony is going to worry about,” Max told her, “is whether or not you hurt your hands. Come along now.”

The first thing Shelby saw when she opened her eyes the next morning was Kevin Gilbert, sleeping uncomfortably in a chair beside her hospital bed. She sat up in bed carefully, taking inventory. Her head was sore where the stitches had been taken and she needed to go to the bathroom, but everything else seemed to be all right. She fingered the bandage on her head. Kevin opened one eye and looked at her.

“Have you been there all night?” she asked.

“Almost,” he yawned. “I went to your place and got you some clothes. I think they'll let you go today if you're feeling okay. Do you know how you feel yet?”

“Pretty good, considering. Do I have a bathroom here?”

“Over there,” he pointed.

Shelby was released from the hospital with strict instructions to go straight home to bed. She promised faithfully and then went straight to the police station instead. Kevin said the police wanted a statement.

On the way, she asked how Tee was doing.

“Bearing up beautifully,” Kevin said with a note of surprise in his voice. “I talked to Max this morning, and he said she's sore and a little stiff from the pummeling she took, naturally. But she's not in shock or anything like that—she's doing fine. They'll both be at the police station. You can see for yourself.”

“That's something I don't understand,” Shelby said. “How did the police get there? I remember dialing 911 but I didn't have time to say anything. Who called the police?”

“Your neighbors.” Kevin smiled grimly. “Between the two of them, Schlimmermann and Tee made enough noise to wake the dead. Almost everyone in your building called for help.”

Something was bothering Kevin; it was the first time Shelby had ever seen him glowing blue. She almost asked him what was wrong but held off.

Inside the police station, Tee came limping toward them followed by Max and a policeman. The sisters touched hands by way of greeting. “Okay?” asked Shelby.

“I feel like an old lady,” Tee complained. “How's your head?”

“Hurts, but not as much as it did. What are we supposed to do here?”

“I've just signed my statement. Now you make yours, and then they decide whether to lock me up or not.”

Max sighed. “She'll do anything to get out of performing in public.”

“Not this time,” said Tee. “I, am, going to Boston. Even if you have to spring me out of the joint. Or is it slammer?” She turned to the policeman. “What do you call it?”

“We call it prison,” the policeman said.

Shelby made her statement to a police stenographer. Soon after, Tee was officially informed no criminal charges were being brought against her. Both she and Shelby were apprised of the time and place of the inquest and told in no uncertain terms to be there.