Project Purple

39 - The Detective

Needing answers, Rigor went to Groucho one more time. He waited, leaning against a concrete pillar in the dark basement-parking garage-his rendezvous venue. He felt like he was meeting Deep Throat, but he went along with the theatrics.

Rigor heard Groucho trying to sneak up from behind, but didn't let on that the man had as much stealth as a drunken pig.

"Psst!"

Groucho was obviously scared, huddling behind a parked car. He had rejected Rigor's entreaties to meet at the precinct, despite his assurances of Groucho's security. Over-the-top paranoid-that's what he thought at first.

Because Rigor didn't understand yet.

***

It was a really disturbing four seconds of video waiting for him on his Face Book wall when he got home the previous evening: the Goatwench, in her little hut again-but this time her face didn't show the sweet, distant pining; not even the invariable exhaustion. This time it was real terror.

"Oh, my God!" she cried out, over and over again.

She held up her hands, and a chill went through Rigor-Blood, a lot of it, on her hands, on her arms. Blood everywhere. He heard a piercing, near-deafening, animal screech outside-something out of a Godzilla movie. Then black.

Rigor couldn't help himself: 'You're killing her, you psychos,' he typed.

The response came right back: 'This is not her blood, you see. Sadly, it could be next time. You are her Angel now. But for only 2,000 dollars, you can not expect comprehensive protection.'

'So it's insurance I'm buying now?'

'It may help for you to think of it like that. Another donation is not forthcoming?'

Rigor had nearly cleared out his account, and didn't know if, or when, the department would reimburse him. Probably never if he didn't get more of a lead.

'YOU can help her. YOU can stop it,' he typed.

'That is not allowed. Only you have the power to prevent any misfortunes befalling such an extraordinary woman. And I am being most sincere.'

'Where are you? I'll come to you. We'll talk-only that. I'll leave the badge here. I promise.'

'Your suggestion is prescient. I hope you keep your sense of humor. Because things will get more interesting.'

I typed more but the freak had signed off. That's when I got hold of Groucho.

***

"Do you know what a rhizome is?" Groucho asked, still crouched, hiding in the shadows, unwittingly drawing even more attention to himself.

Rigor grunted, "The underground stem of a plant, horizontal, sends roots out from its nodes."

"Think of it as a kind of non-hierarchical structure for a society. It's got multiple entry, exit points." Groucho stood up and stretched his back, still agitated, "A whole bunch of people, in every country, all over the world. You can come and go anywhere."

"The Lions Club."

"More like worms in soft wood."

"Creepy analogy, but I follow."

"A rhizome. No way in. No way out, up or down. There's no locating it."

"There's no 'there' there."