Nubian Spirit: The African Legacy of the Nile Vallley Page #4

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It's The Octopus.

Again with The Octopus.

He's up to something big

and it's got to do with me.

He said some weird stuff

about him and me.

I gotta find out what he's talking about.

It's important.

Hold it.

Can we forget about The Octopus

for one minute?

Just one minute?

Now, we got us a hot case

and a murder suspect...

...who's hauling her butt

to the airport.

- Her?

- Name is Sand Saref.

- Sand Saref?

- Sand Saref.

- Local girl.

- Only picture of her.

It's over 15 years old.

Father was a cop.

Took one in the face.

Disappeared following

her father's murder...

Told some snoop reporter

that she hated cops.

- Right on TV, she said she hated cops.

- She hated cops.

- That's what I said.

- Moved to Europe.

Eight marriages later, runs every

jewelry heist this side of Bulgari.

Except for in Central City.

- She never came back.

- You never heard of her.

- You never heard of her, right?

- She never came home.

You on drugs or something?

Come on.

Behind the lines, folks.

Behind the lines.

- Commissioner.

- Sand Saref.

She's overseen

hundreds of jewelry robberies...

...and in not one case was

a police officer so much as wounded.

Now, what are the odds

of that, huh?

Sounds like an Electra complex.

- What's that?

- Electra complex. Plain as your face.

Honey, I'm just an alter cocker.

Give me something to work with.

Old fart.

Jews today. Can't take time

to learn their own language.

Electra complex.

It's like an Oedipal complex

except it's for girls.

She doesn't hate cops.

She's just angry she lost her daddy.

Electra complex, plain and simple.

Damn. This girl's gonna

make detective in no time.

Thank you, sir.

- You like her new jacket?

- Excuse me?

You can't take your

eyes off the ladies.

There's no chance in hell you haven't

noticed Morgenstern's new flak jacket.

- Even if you are on drugs.

- I'm not on drugs.

State of the art, these jackets.

We had us a shipment

of these babies...

...but we couldn't pay for them

until today...

...when we got a very generous

private donation to the force.

One hundred million dollars

generous.

A lot of money.

You're damn straight it is.

It was like a bolt out of the blue.

An online donation. Anonymous.

Yeah, sure, anonymous.

Took our brain boys all of an hour

to track it right back here.

To the offices of an expert

in ancient artifacts.

Yeah, who turned said artifacts

into a fortune.

You might say he was a purveyor

of stolen property...

...or, as we put it in the vernacular,

a fence.

A world-class fence

by the name of Donenfeld.

Yeah.

But quelle surprise, old Donenfeld,

he ain't looking so good.

And my good buddy Seth here...

...he says the old man had a visitor...

...just about the same time

he got the hard goodbye.

What did you say her name was

again there?

Sand. Sand Saref.

She didn't have an appointment.

Sand Saref. Some moniker, huh?

Yeah, it's a strange name.

- It's one of a kind.

- Yeah.

And my good buddy Seth here...

...he couldn't be bothered

to even call it in.

My hands were tied, officer.

Mr. Donenfeld had a standing order.

I was never to come into his office

unless he called me in.

Never.

Never, ever, ever.

Yeah. Sure, kid.

Morgenstern, get his number.

No. Not murder, not her.

It's not possible.

- So you do know her.

- No.

- lf you're holding back on me...

- I'm not.

Your whole theory,

it doesn't make any sense.

Hey, it fits together like goddamn

macram once you factor in her...

What'd you call it again there?

- Electra complex.

- Yeah, that.

It's psychobabble.

Trying to hang a murder rap

on that woman...

...over some piece

of psychobabble?

Her name is Sand Saref and you

know her and you're covering for her.

- I never heard of any Sand Saref.

- You're lying!

- Get your hand off my arm, Dolan.

- You're lying to me.

Let go of my arm

before I break yours.

Orders, sir?

Tail him.

He's lying.

You did a neat little job

up there, Sand.

You shouldn't have signed it.

Officer Morgenstern, you wanna help,

find me a lead to The Octopus.

I will see it.

- There.

- I'm in.

And the aces have it.

This I keep as a souvenir.

The rest goes to the man who can

get a message to The Octopus.

I thought I was closing in,

putting it all together.

That three years on,

here in my second life...

... I had a pretty good idea

of what I had to do.

It all got down to me

and The Octopus.

We were headed for a showdown.

I was finally gonna scrub

the city clean of him...

... once and for all.

It wasn't pretty

but it was simple enough.

Then you come along like

a sack of rocks to my face.

What's the story, Sand?

What the heck is going on?

All night, I've been rolling it around

in my skull.

You and The Octopus?

You and murder?

Dolan's gotta be wrong.

There's gotta be more to this,

some explanation.

Not murder, not you.

Can't believe that about you.

You were tough, Sand,

on the outside...

... but inside, you were warm.

And soft.

All woman.

One thing I'd bet

my bottom dollar on:

You wouldn't be caught dead

hiding out in a fleabag...

... like any ordinary

criminal would. No.

No, your taste was

always first-class.

All the way.

Weird.

That's just plain damn weird.

Sir, you promised the new

hyper-addictive synapse accelerant...

...would be ready by last week.

Don't you think

that's plain damn weird?

Yes, sir. Just plain damn weird.

Also, our profits

are down 20 percent.

Good. I was beginning to think

it was just me.

That's plain damn weird.

Yes, sir.

I was trying to make us a smart one...

...and this thing

just sort of popped out.

Twenty percent across the board.

Reduce the price on the old stuff,

we'll make it up in units.

Word has hit the streets

about the side effects.

No one likes having their teeth

turned into graham crackers.

How can I get anything done

with all this time on my hands?

Besides, when my buddies here

find Sand Saref...

...I won't need profits,

I'll have the blood.

Then if I want something,

I'll just take it.

That's what gods do.

He is really damn little.

I mean...

...it's really little.

- They can't find her.

- Yeah, we can't find her.

- We looked everywhere.

- Except where she was.

- We should've looked there.

- We did look.

- Where's that?

- Kill them all, please.

Just kill them all.

We can't spare them.

- We're running low.

- Yeah.

- You're running low on us.

- Floss said so.

We was listening.

I'm depressed.

I wish The Spirit would come so

I could get me some real killing done.

I told you already,

that's going to be complex.

Spirit thinks he can't stay hurt.

That stuff I put in him and me

is unstable.

Might not last.

The blood will take care of that.

Meanwhile, I'm getting

El Espirito dead while I still can.

To that end...

...I got us another opinion.

Brought in a specialist.

Someone to seal the deal.

You speak to my soul, monsieur.

The black-eyed Venus

is in Suite 1510.

Long time no see, Sand.

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