Authors: Simon Leigh
Out of Promises (9 page)
Nursing a shot of vodka between his hands, Freddie relived everything that had happened. ‘...and then I found the note.’
Valerie listened quietly, wanting to say something comforting, but daring not to.
‘I can’t believe it,’ he whispered. ‘I can still remember his birth, how he’d grabbed my thumb when I held him in my arms.’
She stayed quiet.
‘What am I going to do now? My job has murdered my son, and Michelle. They had nothing to do with anything.’
‘I don’t know what to say,’ Valerie said, putting her hand on his arm. ‘We should thank God you got Chloe back safely though.’ By the time she’d realized what she was saying, it was too late.
He lifted his eyes to hers. ‘I’ll never thank God for anything in my entire life!’ he yelled. ‘Do you understand? God is a bastard, he sits up there looking down on us like pieces of shit.’
‘Freddie, I...’
‘I’ve had enough now, Valerie. I need a way out. I should have gotten out when you told me to all those years ago.’
‘All right, Freddie. I will help you, but won’t be easy.’
‘Yes. I know it won’t!’ he snapped, musing on the subject a little before submitting to a thought: ‘I can’t leave though, not yet. This could be the only way to find out who did this.’
This time she didn’t dare say anything. Seeing his torn and tormented future ahead of him, she felt for the guy, her friend.
Freddie stood up. ‘I’m going to bed.’
At 10:00, Wednesday 9
th
, the sun was high and the air was fresh.
Valerie and Bill were sitting opposite each other at Café Petit. Bill had decaf. Valerie was running on empty and wanted something to stimulate her – a double espresso.
The bustle of December life in Southbrook moved by rapidly through the window making Valerie edgy and impatient, like she was wasting time missing out on something.
‘This coffee is just what the doctor ordered on a morning like this, don’t you think little lady?’
She rolled her eyes and nodded irritably. ‘Do you mind if we get down to business?’
‘Sure thing, where shall we start?’ he said, taking a sip of his warm, sweet coffee and savouring it for a moment before swallowing.
‘Start at the beginning. What did Freddie’s letter say?’
‘This sounds more like an interrogation, you know.’
I don’t have time for this.
‘Can you please just explain?’
‘Fine. It said he wanted to find out who murdered his son, Michael, and who left that note in his garage. He still had it, you know? That note. Anyway, I met him in the park that night and he looked a mess, it was clear to me he was desperate. He was unshaven and hadn’t washed. He told me he’d exhausted all avenues and I was his only hope. He told me about the business he couldn’t get out of, said his line of work was the reason Michael was killed and he blamed himself for what happened. So I decided to help him.’
‘He never showed any signs of problems when I saw him. I mean, I knew he wanted the man who did it, but I never thought he was so obsessed. I remember when it happened. He called me. Lucy wanted nothing more to do with him. He’d lost his only son and almost lost his daughter. The babysitter died too, you know. He was devastated and blamed himself like you said. I let him stay with me until he picked his feet up but since he moved out of my apartment, he just seemed like always, never mentioning it. Lucy agreed to let him see Chloe, which made him happier. Just wish he’d told me.’
‘Not to cause offence, but perhaps you weren’t looking.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Bill took another sip. ‘I mean, the signs must have been there to see, you just missed them.’
She looked away from him. ‘If they were there, I’d have seen them.’
‘All right, you knew him better than I did. Perhaps he was a closet broken man, as it were,’ he said with a smile.
‘Is that a fucking joke?’
‘Meant nothing by it.’
She sat back, watching him. ‘So what did you find out?’
‘Not a lot to be honest. I didn’t know where to start.’
‘Yeah, I know the feeling.’
Bill finished his coffee and leaned back to mirror her. ‘Do you remember a few years ago when an Asian man was shot in the head with a revolver in his apartment in the Amber Heights building?’
‘Sure. I mean I heard of it.’
‘It’s OK, missy. I know what happened with Freddie that night. I also know that the same person who shot the Asian could have been the same person who shot Freddie. The case was never solved and he was found with a hole in his head, too. Now I think about it, the revolver gives it away.’
‘How do you know Freddie was shot with a revolver?’
‘My old colleague told me. I mentioned it to you back at my office.’
‘How do you know the Asian was?’
‘Heard it on the news back then.’
She didn’t believe a word, but went along with it. ‘Michael was so long ago, do you think the same person has been following Freddie all these years?’
‘Certainly looks that way.’
‘Got any leads?’
‘Now we’ve kinda linked Wong and Freddie together, we should take a look at the security tapes from the apartment block the night Wong was shot.’
‘What? There’s a tape?’
‘Yeah, there’s a small dome camera hidden above the door of Amber Heights. They’re all over the city. The people living there can’t watch it or anything, but it’s there, you know, for security.’
‘Where’s the tape?’
‘Probably in the security office that monitors the apartments I reckon,’ he said, smiling, trying to lighten the mood. ‘That would be a couple of blocks away. They monitor all of the cameras, including street cameras. Just so happens I know the security guard who works there and he likes to help me, makes him feel like a cop. Fancy a drive?’
‘I’d prefer to go alone.’ She stood up. ‘Thanks for your help.’
‘Won’t get anywhere without me, Val.’
She stopped. He was right. As much as she didn’t want to be around him, she needed him. She sighed. ‘Fine. Can we go?’
At Lucy’s building, Detective Baker left an officer in the parking lot to keep watch just in case she made a run for it. Having been informed of Lucy’s loss four years ago, he figured she had the perfect motive for murder.
On the other hand, if she hadn’t found out about Freddie’s death he didn’t want her to feel crowded when breaking the news to her.
He made it inside the building after catching the door of someone exiting the building, finding her apartment on the seventh floor.
He knocked.
Nobody answered.
He knocked again, harder this time.
Still no answer.
She’s on the run.
With a sigh, he reached into his pocket for a card to slide under her door when a neighbour came out of her apartment. She was overweight with frizzy greying hair and he placed her in her fifties.
‘I help you with something?’ she asked.
‘Do you know where the tenant is?’
‘Yeah. Who are you?’
He showed her his badge. ‘Detective Baker, Southbrook P.D.’
A grin beamed across her face like she’d won the lottery. ‘She took her kid to kindergarten. You here about the noise this morning?’ she asked, folding her arms and leaning against the wall ready for any gossip she could get her hands on.
‘What noise?’
‘Some shouting in the early hours. Woke me up and I don’t sleep well anyway.’
Her gaze shifted passed Baker to a pretty, twenty something lady in tight fit blue jeans and a long, white jacket walking up to them.
‘Can I help you?’ the lady asked.
The neighbour disappeared back into her apartment leaving the door open slightly.
‘Are you Lucy Decker?’ asked Baker.
‘Yeah, traffic’s bad this time in a morning, you know,’ she said with a smile. ‘Who are you?’
‘Detective Baker.’ He showed her his badge. ‘May I come in?’
Her smile vanished. ‘Sure’. She unlocked the door and walked in.
Baker followed.
She picked up the few toys from the floor. ‘You want a drink?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘OK then, shall we talk?’
‘I think you should sit down.’
Shaking with a mixture of emotion, she took a seat.
Baker sat opposite her.
‘Do you mind telling me what the commotion was this morning?’
Lucy frowned, glaring at the connecting wall between her and her neighbour. ‘Did she tell you that?’
‘Can you answer the question please?’
‘It was my sister. Nothing special. Do you mind telling me why you’re here?’
‘All right, Lucy. I have some bad news.’
‘It’s Freddie isn’t it?’ She stood up. ‘I should have known. He never misses a chance to see Chloe.’
‘His body was found this morning by Father McGregor.’
Baker had seen it a thousand times before – the lack of reaction, the lips quivering before falling onto a chair or the floor. The mind can’t absorb this kind of thing in one go. It takes time.
‘What? Why?’ she asked.
‘We intend to find out why. The body has been taken to our morgue and we need you to identify him.’
‘He can’t be dead.’
‘Look, I know this is difficult, but it needs to be done.’
Her eyes surrendered to the unyielding tears.
Baker passed her a tissue.
‘How did it happen?’
‘Can you please just come with me?’
‘No,’ she shouted, getting back to her feet. ‘Tell me what happened, or I’m going nowhere.’
Baker stood up with her, placing a hand on her shoulder. ‘He was found tied to a cross this morning after being shot. I will give you a moment then I need you to come with me to the morgue.’
With her arms folded defensively, Valerie walked with Bill, who was relaxed and strong with a straight posture and square shoulders, oozing confidence. They were heading back to his office to collect his car before moving on to the security hub.
Valerie looked at him, trying to work him out. She didn’t want to tell him about Jackson, preferring to go it alone. Hanging around with a private detective wasn’t something she wanted to advertise.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ he asked. ‘Something on your mind?’
Without answering, she walked on.
People of all shapes and sizes walked by, many of whom stressed by the whole Christmas experience. Valerie couldn’t understand it. Among religious beliefs, Christmas, as she saw it, was supposed to be about family, yet all it seemed to her these days was a commercial enterprise designed to make people part ways with money. Sometimes vast amounts of money. She was being harsh, she knew that, putting it down to the lack of many happy Christmases as a child, or not having someone herself to lavish with love.
Walking in a small group of people, a man caught her eye, staring at her. She recognized him immediately. She recognized the suit: Sharpe.
Shit. I can’t be seen with a private detective.
Looking back, she saw him following her.
With little choice, and to avoid alerting Bill, she looked ahead to a public toilet building.
‘Do you mind?’ she asked, nodding over to the ladies’.
Bill agreed, waiting out front.
Around the back where the entrance was, she waited outside the door, bracing herself for Sharpe. She knew he’d come, and he’d come hard. But after two minutes there was no sign of him, just other ladies coming and going, throwing her questioning glances.
She let out a relieved breath and headed back to Bill when Sharpe came strolling around the corner, blocking her path.
‘Don’t you think you’ve done enough?’ she said.
‘Not really,’ he replied, moving closer to her.
She backed away, mentally readying herself for his inevitable onslaught.
‘So who is the trench coat? Your little fuck buddy?’
‘What do you want?’
He grabbed her, slamming her hard against the red brick wall, the small jagged bumps digging into her back.
She had to break free, she couldn’t be cornered.
Taking hold of his hands and bending his fingers back, she managed to loosen his grip and push him away before following up with a punch to his face. The pain circled in her fist, but the release of energy felt good.
‘You fucking bitch,’ he said, slapping her and pinning her back against the wall, harder this time, pressing on her shoulders. ‘I want you to tell me why you’re with that private dick. Did you tell him anything?’
‘Who says he’s a private dick?’ she asked, her face stinging.
‘I do. I’ve seen my share.’
‘I need information from him, that’s all. He knew Freddie so I need his help, OK? I haven’t told him anything else.’
He eased his grip on her. ‘See that you don’t. Watch yourself, Matherson sent me to keep an eye on you. You’ve seen what happens to people who cross him. You won’t want what’s coming.’ He looked her up and down with a dirty smirk. ‘But I will.’
She grabbed his fingers again and he let go, grabbing her throat instead and squeezing. ‘You won’t get away with hitting me again.’
She couldn’t move, not matter how hard she tried, remembering her ordeal in the church last night.
‘Answer me this,’ he said. ‘Did you go straight to the dick?’
She shook her head and said with a restricted voice, ‘No. I went to Freddie’s.’
‘Freddie’s huh?’
She nodded.
‘Did you like my handy work?’ he smiled.
Lifting a foot to the wall behind her, she kicked, pushing them both away, breaking free from his grasp.
‘You trashed his apartment!?’ she yelled. ‘Why?’
A lady came out of the toilets, walking by them quickly.
They stayed quiet until she was out of sight.
Sharpe said: ‘To erase all evidence linking him to Matherson and to erase Freddie from his life, like wiping shit from his shoes.’
Didn’t look very hard.
She didn’t care how much this would hurt, she punched him again. ‘You heartless son of a bitch.’
Sharpe recoiled, wiping face before lunging for, knocking her against the wall again and taking hold of her throat hard enough to feel her airway closing, lifting her from ground. She tried to fight free, her arms flailing at his face, needing to push him away before the lights went out, but he was too overpowering. She tried to kick, but that was useless too. Her eyes were glazing over and the world was turning black and white.
And then, as her life was about to fade away, she fell to the ground gasping for air while Sharpe was thrown to the floor.
‘What are you doing, big man?’ said Bill. ‘You like hurting the ladies?’
Sharpe stood up, patting mud and soil from his pants. ‘Just a friendly word,’ he said, squaring up to him. ‘Next time you touch me, you’ll be dead.’
With a cheeky smile, Bill reached out a hand, tapping Sharpe on the shoulder. ‘We done here?’
He didn’t utter another word; instead, he sent a beaming smile at Valerie catching her breath before walking away.
Bill followed, but Valerie pulled him back. ‘He’s not worth it.’
She was angry and wanted to deal with him herself. Two day; two attacks. Twice now she’d feared for her life. It wasn’t like her.
Bill helped her up. ‘Who was that asshole?’
‘Just an ex-boyfriend, that’s all.’
‘Hey, don’t lie to me, OK? I thought we were on the same side.’
She breathed heavily. ‘First of all, Bill. I don’t know you. We aren’t on any side right now.’
‘Hey, if you need my help then be straight with me or I’m walking.’
She knew he was right. She needed him more than she cared to admit. ‘His name is Sharpe. He works for us. His brother Preston was killed during the job with Wong.’
‘Yeah. Freddie told me all about Preston. So what is it you’re not allowed to tell me?’
Shit, he heard everything.
‘OK. Matherson is holing Jackson until I found out who killed Freddie.’
‘Who?’
‘Matherson’s son.’
‘What’s he got to do with this?’
‘He helped me lie to his dad, and he found out.’
‘I see. Still want that tape?’
‘Of course.’