End It With A Lie
Page 29
Sarah, Ray and Simon ate their fish and then fed Quinn, who was by now into his third beer.
“What was that toy in the path?” Quinn asked.
“Just a little trick I picked up in Vietnam.”
“What year?” Quinn asked as he stopped chewing his fish.
“1969.”
“Bad year, where were you?”
“I was there in January, if that’s what you mean. Khe Sanh.” It was Ray’s turn to question and he asked, “You were there too?” Quinn told Ray where he had been and who he was with. Ray questioned Quinn about things that people would have to have been there to know. In the end Ray was satisfied that Quinn was telling the truth.
Simon and Sarah left them at this point and they talked well into the night. They were like two long lost brothers. Brothers in arms, and Ray found he liked the relaxed Quinn, who opened up as the hours passed to tell Ray more of his situation with Sudovich.
They called it a night after Ray had loosened Quinn’s right hand, and had given him a container to relieve himself in.
“Have you decided what to do with me?” Quinn asked.
“Simon has come up with an idea which should see you up and about around lunch time tomorrow. So you can sleep easy. Me, I’ll sleep light like I always do, and remember, I know how to use this.” He weighed the pistol in his hand.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m not going anywhere, so you can sleep easy too.”
Simon’s walls were the borders between Ray’s room and the one that Quinn found himself in. He heard Ray walk to his room, then checked the lock on his own door before he put his head to the pillow and listened to the silence.
Simon rose early the next morning, and he and Ray talked about what they would do with Quinn.
By the time they’d finished breakfast they had a plan.
They took coffee to Quinn and Ray again untied his right hand. He allowed Quinn to use the container, and then left his hand loose so he could eat his breakfast.
While Quinn ate, Simon wrote on two sheets of paper. Quinn’s name which he discovered from his passport to be Peter Quinn, his description, the address he carried in his wallet of his island home and his passport number.
Simon left the room and returned with an old Polaroid camera. He took two photos of Quinn, and put one and a piece of the paper into each of the two envelopes.
“These two envelopes will go to friends of mine in town. Their instructions will be that they be opened in the event of anyone of us not making contact with them at a time I’ll not disclose to you,” Simon said when he had sealed them. Quinn nodded that he understood, and Simon left the farm to deliver the two letters to town.
When he returned he approached Ray and Quinn at the stables where they were talking.
“I think Quinn has found a solution to ours and his problem.” Simon looked to Quinn’s matter of fact face.
“I thought about it last night and decided I will have to deal with Sudovich personally. I should have done him in a long time ago. I didn’t, but now I think the day has arrived to escape him once and for all.” Simon thought about what he was hearing and found himself shocked. He wanted to close off the sound of the man’s voice.
Sudovich was by all accounts a son of a bitch, but by the same token he was a human being, and here was Simon listening to Quinn’s plan on murder.
Simon wished he could escape his part in it, but what could he do. The dice had been cast and he, Simon, had cast them when he’d answered the first letter from Abu.
For a moment Simon forgot his reason and wished he could go back and regain his freedom of conscience. Change the past and escape the sickness he again felt in his belly.
“I’ll need my car. It’s parked away over in the bush and my tool bag is in it.” Simon gave away his thoughts of innocence and said he would take the man to his car.
An hour later Simon showed Quinn to the work shop where Quinn pulled from his tool bag a crossbow.
“I need a fishing rod reel and a golf ball. Would you have any of these things lying around the place?” Quinn asked. Simon, although confused by the request found an old reel, and after some searching came up with a golf ball.
The golf ball was old and had a small crack in it.
“Doesn’t matter, it’ll do the job.” Quinn said.
Simon wanted to ask, how it would do the job, just out of curiosity, but thought better of it and decided he didn’t want to know.
“I wonder if you might do something for me,” he asked instead. Quinn listened intently as Simon put forward his request.
Simon looked at his feet as if he didn’t know how to phrase the request. “It’s probably best if Sarah doesn’t know about this part.” Quinn understood Simon’s feelings, and knew full well from experiences passed the necessity of mistruth.
Simon turned to leave Quinn to his work. As he left the workshop he heard the sound of the cordless drill, whining quietly as Quinn drilled small holes in the stock of the crossbow.