Judas: The Good Assassin

By Michael Davidson

In this tale, the last in the six-book series of Jon Sadler Mysteries, I have editorialized the nature and evolution of our protagonist, Jon Sadler. We have watched as he fought and survived many battles, and we have witnessed a previous lifetime in which he was prepared for this, his final battle.

Now, we watch as fate leads him to his occult destiny, that of the Avenger. Jon's ancient association with the Cult of the Pereire reveals the nature of an assassin. This assassin has been waiting for many incarnations to strike at the appropriate time in history.

Jon rediscovers a lost love in the mists of time. Anita will fulfill her own destiny by assisting this man, this Judas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9798887930138

Michael Davidson

Michael Davidson is Professor of Literature at the University of California, San Diego. He is the author of The San Francisco Renaissance: Poetics and Community at Mid-Century (1991) and several books of poetry.

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Judas

The Good Assassin

Michael Davidson

Copyright © 2024 Michael Davidson

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2024

ISBN 979-8-88793-024-4 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88793-013-8 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Other books by the author

Alina

Addendum

The Mad Thing

Toy Store

Darth and the Puppeteer

Judge Rath

Nightingale

Four Tales of Love and Wonder

For Hugh and Ruth Harrison (deceased)

A conversation between Jon Sadler and Aaron (the Avatar), taken from ‘Judge Rath,' the fourth volume of this six-book series.

"Jon, you have the nature of an Avenger. You are the last generation of an ancient Coterie. They were called the Pereire's, or the Cult of the Pereire.

So, what did they do?

They were assassins.

It just gets better and better, doesn't it, Aaron?

Soon you're going to be asked to make a decision that will affect many lives. In your last incarnation as, Judge Rath, you never hesitated to do what had to be done, and so it will be the Judge in you, that will do what must be done, no matter the consequences.

I know, Aaron, I was there. The Judge never hesitated to shoot someone; he could hardly wait.

Your essential nature includes the Judge's inclinations. Let me put it this way. Due to nature's laws, the Universe runs like a well-oiled clock, even though sometimes it doesn't appear so. The effects of your choices are automatically balanced out through this process of laws, which establishes the only true justice. At times, however, when considered necessary, this process is given assistance. This is one of those times.

Thank you, Aaron, for your cosmic elucidation, now who is it that I'm supposed to assassinate?

You know, Jon, if I were human, your cavalier attitude would be annoying. Darth warned me, however I thought he was just projecting. You, my friend, are the hand of retribution, and you will bring the proclivities of Judge Rath to your next incarnation. You will need his wrath if you're going to succeed in what history will deem as a betrayal, and you will be known as the Judas of the twenty-first century.

I'm confused Aaron. Is that the good news, or the bad news? Don't answer that, but I do have one civil question. How did you do that little trick?

Oh, you mean that past life thing.

That's the one.

It's complicated.

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Six

Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Nine

Thirty

Thirty-One

Thirty-Two

Thirty-Three

Thirty-Four

Thirty-Five

Thirty-Six

Thirty-Seven

Thirty-Eight

Thirty-Nine

Forty

Forty-One

Forty-Two

Forty-Three

Forty-Four

Forty-Five

Forty-Six

Forty-Seven

Forty-Eight

Forty-Nine

Fifty

Fifty-One

Fifty-Two

Fifty-Three

Fifty-Four

Fifty-Five

Fifty-Six

Fifty-Seven

Fifty-Eight

Fifty-Nine

Sixty

Sixty-One

Sixty-Two

Sixty-Three

Sixty-four

Sixty-five

Sixty-six

Sixty-seven

Sixty-eight

Sixty-Nine

Seventy

Seventy-one

Seventy-two

Seventy-Three

Seventy-Four

Seventy-Five

Seventy-Six

Seventy-Seven

Seventy-Eight

Seventy-Nine

Eighty

Eighty-One

Eighty-Two

Eighty-Three

Eighty-Four

Eighty-Five

Eighty-Six

Eighty-Seven

Eighty-Eight

Eighty-Nine

Ninety

Ninety-One

Ninety-Two

Ninety-Three

Ninety-Four

Ninety-Five

Ninety-Six

Ninety-Seven

Ninety-Eight

Ninety-Nine

One Hundred

One Hundred-One

One Hundred-Two

One Hundred-Three

One Hundred-Four

One Hundred-Five

One Hundred-Six

One Hundred-Seven

One Hundred-Eight

One Hundred-Nine

One Hundred-Ten

One Hundred-Eleven

One Hundred-Twelve

One Hundred-Thirteen

One Hundred-Fourteen

One Hundred-Fifteen

One Hundred-Sixteen

One hundred-Seventeen

One hundred-Eighteen

A brief account of Ronald Crump's ascension to the presidency

About the Author

Other books by the author

Alina

Addendum

The Mad Thing

Toy Store

Darth and the Puppeteer

Judge Rath

Nightingale

Four Tales of Love and Wonder

For Hugh and Ruth Harrison (deceased)

A conversation between Jon Sadler and Aaron (the Avatar), taken from ‘Judge Rath,' the fourth volume of this six-book series.

"Jon, you have the nature of an Avenger. You are the last generation of an ancient Coterie. They were called the Pereire's, or the Cult of the Pereire.

So, what did they do?

They were assassins.

It just gets better and better, doesn't it, Aaron?

Soon you're going to be asked to make a decision that will affect many lives. In your last incarnation as, Judge Rath, you never hesitated to do what had to be done, and so it will be the Judge in you, that will do what must be done, no matter the consequences.

I know, Aaron, I was there. The Judge never hesitated to shoot someone; he could hardly wait.

Your essential nature includes the Judge's inclinations. Let me put it this way. Due to nature's laws, the Universe runs like a well-oiled clock, even though sometimes it doesn't appear so. The effects of your choices are automatically balanced out through this process of laws, which establishes the only true justice. At times, however, when considered necessary, this process is given assistance. This is one of those times.

Thank you, Aaron, for your cosmic elucidation, now who is it that I'm supposed to assassinate?

You know, Jon, if I were human, your cavalier attitude would be annoying. Darth warned me, however I thought he was just projecting. You, my friend, are the hand of retribution, and you will bring the proclivities of Judge Rath to your next incarnation. You will need his wrath if you're going to succeed in what history will deem as a betrayal, and you will be known as the Judas of the twenty-first century.

I'm confused Aaron. Is that the good news, or the bad news? Don't answer that, but I do have one civil question. How did you do that little trick?

Oh, you mean that past life thing.

That's the one.

It's complicated.

Prologue

I had returned from San Diego to Los Angeles after spending eighteen months in the peculiar environment of the Nightingale Hotel.

It had been two years since I'd closed my therapy office in Pasadena where I had been meeting with three other therapists on Friday nights using hand puppets to explore a method of releasing anxieties in adults. It had been employed successfully with children for generations. We imagined the use of the puppets might pry loose the hidden impediments within the psyches of our adult patients and create an atmosphere for healing.

It was on our first Friday night session with the puppets that it occurred to me our own self-doubts may be in jeopardy of being revealed. Our puppets could hardly wait to condemn each other, as if we, their puppet masters, were not in the room. We had decided to record the sessions and could hardly believe what we listened to later. It was clear to all of us that, although we were speaking for our puppets, we had little control of what was coming out of their mouths.

During this time of chaos in our meetings, something terrible began to occur. Street people were being murdered in our Pasadena neighborhood. We would eventually discover a correlation between our Friday night meetings and the deaths occurring around us. The nightmare finally ended when it was discovered that one of our fellow therapists was responsible for the deaths.

I eventually closed my office on Mentor Avenue after my girlfriend was killed when her plane went down on a flight from New Zealand to Australia. That was followed by the death of a client who was a reporter at the Los Angeles Times. The nail in my coffin came when a police lieutenant, and long-time. friend, was killed in a North Hollywood bank shoot-out.

The grief that followed would not allow me to counsel people who deserved more than I could give them. In my trip to the depths of despair I eventually found myself sleeping in an abandoned car in front of an old and disturbingly grim apartment building in San Diego, California.

It was early morning and fog had drifted in from the ocean. A large moon seemed to have balanced itself on the peak of a gable. Next, as if off the pages of a Steven King novel, two black bats leaped from a third-floor balcony silhouetting themselves as they passed across the moon.

I was asleep in my car when there was a rapping on the car window. A thought came and went of an Edgar Allan Poe tale. I moved the window down and a woman told me I was in violation of a city ordinance, and then invited me into the sanctum of the Nightingale Hotel, that rose into the night behind her.

I followed her up a flight of stairs and through the entrance. Soon I would become part of an atmosphere of peculiar people, resident ghosts, and multiple murders. But that's another story.

One

Anita Langford, the daughter of California Governor, Paul Langford, had grown up in North Hollywood's San Fernando Valley. She had bussed over the Cahuenga Pass into Hollywood to attend Hollywood High School at Highland Avenue and Sunset Boulevard.

In her sophomore and senior years, she was the school's student body president. Among her friends were David and Ricky Nelson, the film gang of James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause, and the Four Preps singing group of Santa Catalina fame. There was even the proverbial malt shop across the street from the school. The Grauman's Chinese Theater is just west on Hollywood Boulevard, and Russo and Franks restaurant is still serving the stars.

After graduating, Anita attended USC in Los Angeles and once again took the helm in her senior year. She majored in politics and carried a 3.8 average out into the world.

Anita's father was the Mayor of Los Angeles for one term before throwing his hat in the race for California Governor. California's governorship had long been a jumping-off point for higher political office, and Paul Langford had visions of joining the elite list of both famous and infamous names such as Richard Nixon, Ronald Regan, Pierre Salinger, Diane Feinstein, and Earl Warner.

Paul Langford's Road to Washington D.C. did not materialize and he eventually had to lower his sights to another term as Mayor of L.A., but that didn't happen either. Paul Langford finally sizzled out as Mayor of West Hollywood, where he got free drinks at the Pink Puppy Bar and Grill on Melrose Ave.

Two

I met Anita at a Hospice support group held in a private residence at Baylor and Sunset across from the Hollywood Palladium. I had joined the group in my attempt to alleviate the grief I had been experiencing due to the death of my friends. I arrived late to the meeting while a young woman was telling the group about the death of her father.

I was surprised when at the end of the meeting she approached me.

Excuse me.

Yes, hello.

This is your first time here, yes?

Yes, it is, I responded.

My name is Anita, Anita Langford

Nice to meet you, Miss Langford.

How did you know I was a Miss?

It seemed obvious.

How so?

I don't normally give away my secrets, young lady.

Could you possibly give me the secret of your name, Mr.…?

Sadler, Jon Sadler.

She held out her hand, which was my cue to shake it. It was a nice hand.

How about I buy you a cup of coffee? she said.

I was taken aback by her overture, but the twinkle in her eye suggested she was just being friendly, so I plowed ahead.

Do you make a habit of picking-up old men, Miss Langford?

You're the first.

I'm honored, is there an ulterior motive in this shameful act?

I'm not sure, but maybe the coffee will help me figure it out.

As we walked south on Sunset Boulevard toward Tiny Naylor's restaurant at the corner of Sunset and Silver Lake Blvd., I covertly watched her, so I thought.

What?

Nothing.

When we entered the restaurant, a waitress approached us. Jon, are you coming in tomorrow?

Yeah, I'll be here.

Just checking. Yani won't be here because his kid is in a school play, and he wants to be there. You guys eating?

Just coffee, Eve, and thanks.

Oh, so you're the manager of this place, Anita said.

No, I manage the clean-up crew.

The clean-up crew?

Yes.

Very funny. Why are you grinning at me?

I was just enjoying you, I said.

Eve brought the coffee.

Jon, why the hospice support group? Did someone die?

Yes, someone did die. How about you?

My father died a couple of months ago. I tried to get mother to attend the meetings, but she wouldn't, so I decided to try it out in hopes she would get interested.

I assume she didn't?

She said she wouldn't share her grief with a bunch of do-gooders.

Eve served the coffee.

Three

I have a question.

Go for it, she said.

Why are you so interested in me?

I'm curious.

Why?

It's my nature.

What you see is what you get.

What does that mean?

I'm just a worn-out old man.

Okay, old man. Who were you before you got worn-out.?

I was a psychotherapist.

For real?

Yes.

What happened?

I felt I was no longer effective as a therapist.

Was that because of the person who died?

There were three.

Oh, my god. There were three people. All at once?

More or less. More coffee?

Yes, please. Could I have a piece of pie?

Four

Tell me about yourself, Mr. Jon Sadler, do you live close by?

Not far, near Sunset and Fairfax.

I have a place just a few blocks away. Would you like to stop by? I can offer you a glass of wine.

Sure, why not.

Anita lived in a quaint Spanish-style group of cottages. Her two-bedroom was warm and comfortable. The walls were white, and in the living room, there was a painting of a clown on one wall and the Eiffel Tower on another. The inner doors had been replaced with colorful beads hanging from the half-round top of the doorways.

I sat down on a white couch with a glass-topped coffee table in front of me. There was a fireplace with an old lever-action Winchester rifle above the mantle.

White or red, she asked from the kitchen. Never mind, I'll bring both.

She placed the bottles and two wine glasses on the glass table and sat down beside me. I knew she was waiting for a reaction. I guess she got tired of waiting.

Well, what do you think?

About what?

She punched me in the shoulder. About my impeccable interior design.

That punch told me reams about her personality. It's nice, I said.

Nice?

Very nice.

The first bottle of white was consumed, and we'd started on the red.

Are you trying to get me drunk? I asked.

The thought had occurred to me. How is it you became interested in psychotherapy?

"My interest in people has always been on an individual level. I've had little interest in the compromised opinions of a group. That may have been what led to the one-on-one environment of psychotherapy.