Lotus: Revelation
Michael Shoemaker
Lotus: Revelation
Michael Shoemaker
Copyright 2014 Michael Shoemaker
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Author’s Note
I hope you enjoy this story, and if you would like to pass along your reactions to it, please do so at [email protected].
Legitimate owners of the work may also receive a high-resolution electronic version of the cover artwork upon request.
Cover illustration by C.B. Zane ([email protected]).
Website: https://www.cbzane.com
Cover colors by Andrea Celestini ([email protected]).
Website: https://andreacelestini.deviantart.com
Lotus: Revelation
The late-April sky was bright, blue and perfect; the air was fresh and warm; and Dante “The Viper” Valvasori, Boss of Bosses, was Not Guilty.
Such was the judgment of the five men and seven women of his jury, to the dismay of prosecutors trying to consign him to federal prison for life. The case began with accusations that Valvasori had committed or ordered an array of felonies, chief among them murder, conspiracy, racketeering, extortion and tax evasion. However, day after day, witnesses recanted or refuted their sworn testimony, pled the fifth, or disappeared outright. Forensic experts questioned their own pre-trial conclusions. Transcripts, tapes and murder weapons vanished from the chain of custody. In the end, the deliberations lasted eighty-three minutes, mostly so pizza could be eaten and legal forms completed.
A victorious Valvasori and his retinue made their way from the Port Ellis Courthouse, passing through its towering stone colonnades, lighting Cuban cigars and exchanging congratulations. A throng of reporters stampeded up the wide granite stairway toward them, shouting questions, microphones and cameras at the ready.
“Mister Valvasori! Jim Hendry, KPEN News. Were you surprised by the jury’s verdict?”
He smoothed the front of his silk suit over his bulging midsection and grinned. “Not at all. I’m a big believer in the American justice system and knew they’d get it right. Vito, how many raps I beat now, four?”
“Five, Boss.”
“Four, five, whatever.” He waved his cigar dismissively. “Why the government insists on harassing honest, hard-working, job-creating citizens like myself is beyond me. I’m a pillar of the community. In fact, if you look under the pillars of the Condon Center you might find some rats who tried to sell me out. But you didn’t hear that from me.” He turned and shared a laugh with his attendants.
A Hispanic woman pushed her way between a pair of cameramen and held up a microphone. “Teresa Hernandez, UniMundo Network. Many observers are questioning the losses of key pieces of evidence before and during the trial. Some suggest there may be widespread corruption within the Port Ellis Police Department. Would you care to comment?”
“My only comment on Port Ellis’ finest is that they’re the best law enforcement money can buy. And speaking of purchases, while I have your attention, I’d like to inform you that my newest cookbook, Family Recipes, is out in stores today. Vito, you got a copy?”
“Right here, boss.”
“Thank you. Check it out, ladies and gentlemen.” He raised the hardbound volume overhead. “It’s got dishes for all occasions, from Columbus Day Casserole to Veal Scaloppini to my specialty, the Omerta Omelet. It’s available at all better bookstores – the ones that know what’s good for ‘em, anyway – and the eBook comes out next week—“
A whistling sound and glimmering flash was punctuated by the wet thud of metal against flesh. The crowd fell silent at the sight of an ornately-engraved shuriken embedded in the middle of Valvasori’s forehead. He teetered, the cigar tumbling out of his mouth, the book dropping down the steps. Vito and another associate seized his arms as he slumped to his knees. The Mafioso surrounded their leader, the reporters watching in shocked silence.
“Boss!” Vito patted his cheek. “Boss! Say somethin’!”
“Hey, look at this.” The man across from him pointed at the weapon. “Why is that thing blinking?”
Vito’s eyes widened as a red diode at the center of the shuriken pulsated faster and faster. “Oh shit—“
Valvasori’s head erupted into red mist, the explosion throwing his crew flying like rag dolls. Bystanders screamed and shouted for help as the press scrambled for a better shot of the carnage.
The only evidence of the perpetrator lay unnoticed on the base of the courthouse steps – a single white lotus flower.
