End It With A Lie

by Peter M. Atkins

Wednesday 8.45 pm 

  Tom Lee glanced at his watch as he locked his office door and then rolled the carpet back. Soon the jingle of keys announced their presence as Lee pushed one into the padlock mechanism. It clicked open with its ease of newness.

  After raising the boxes steel lid, he reached in and hoisted out the suitcase which he’d packed with the currency of the highest denomination. Its plastic handle carried the weight and he laid it to one side of the hole in the floor, before gazing momentarily at the second bag.

  The thought of eggs in baskets flashed in his mind before he decided to leave it for the time being.

  “It’s as safe here as anywhere,” he told himself as he relocked the heavy lid.

  He grunted lightly as he lifted the suitcase onto the hand trolley. It looked out of the ordinary, so he threw a towel over it and then placed his attaché case on top. The back door was not far away, but he and the trolley would be in sight of the bar patrons prying eyes as he made his way. Not reason for discomfort he thought, as he gave his office one last glance. All the while knowing he’d forgotten nothing. The items stored in the attaché case had been chosen carefully.

  There was an immediate bombardment of sound as opened his office door. It deluged his ears as he towed the trolley into the corridor connecting to the club’s rear delivery door.

  Noise from the front bar, with its loud voices of cheer and electronic poker machines combined with techno from a rave party upstairs. The corridor darkened as he approached the store room. He decided to leave it that way as he found security in the dim light.

  Some moments later, he fumbled in the darkness for his key to the rear delivery door. The dull glow of a single light bulb greeted him as he opened it, and he stood still to peer into the darker areas of the clubs rear yard to ascertain his privacy. Confident that he was alone, he leaned back behind the trolley’s weight as he made his descent down the loading bay ramp. At ground level he twisted the trolley, rolling on one wheel in an effort to back his way in the direction of his car’s rear end.

  He’d taken one step backwards, when suddenly a voice reached out to him from the shadows. A second later a big framed man stood up from his concealed position on the far side of Lee’s car.

  “Good evening, Mr. Lee. I wondered how long I’d have to wait.”

  Lee almost cricked his neck as his head twisted on his shoulders toward the voice in the shadows. He swivelled his body and felt a cold shiver of fear at the sight of the man’s gun. It stated starkly that his intention was not of the social kind.

  Lee swore as he peered toward the man’s face, and even though he was sure that he already knew the answer, he asked, “Dan? Is that you?”

  “Yes, Mr. Lee. It’s me, Dan. Who is soon to be Mr. Sanic.”

  “What do you want Dan?”

  “I want what you have, Mr. Lee.”

  Lee tapped the handle of the trolley.

  “You want this bag?” He asked

  “That too, along with everything else you own.”

  “That’s impossible. You can’t...” It suddenly dawned on him that there was one way to make that possible, and he spat venom as he cursed, “Fuck you. You’re the one who’s been screwing my wife. You prick. I trusted you.”

  Dan was feeling more confident now.

  “Anything’s possible Mr. Lee. You’ve told me that yourself a number of times.” He paused as if searching for the next thing to say, “Don’t take it as personal though, it’s as they say, just business. Now throw me the keys of the car. I’m going to take you for a nice ride in the country.” Lee remained still as he tried to realign his thoughts. Decide on the best course of action, but Dan was impatient.

  “Throw me the keys Mr. Lee, or I’ll drop you where you stand and get them myself.” Lee’s options were limited, and riding to the country alive rather than dead, might allow an opportunity to gain the upper hand and turn the tables. He reached into his pocket and threw the keys at Dan’s feet.

  “Always the smartarse, aren’t you?” Dan said as he rested his gun hand on the boot of the car and leaned down to retrieve them, “Doesn’t matter though, because it’ll be the last thing I’ll pick up for you.”

  “Dan, I didn’t just throw them there for you to pick up. I threw them there to prove a point. You’re a pick up man. It’s in your blood. You’ll never be a Boss man. A Boss man would have kicked shit out of me, and then made me crawl over to the keys. Then a Boss man would have said, while you’re down there pass those keys up to me, arsehole. You’re a servant, and right now you’re Sally’s servant, you fuckin’ idiot.” Lee spat.

  Dan spoke quietly as he stood up straight again.

  “You won’t draw me, Mr. Lee.”

  “There you go again, you clown. You’ve got a gun on me, you’re threatening to kill me and you’re still calling me Mister. You won’t be in business five minutes before you’ll have those Italians breathing down your neck. Not to mention the Asians….”

  Lee paused as Dan said in a matter of fact manner.

  “I don’t have to worry about them Mr. Lee.”

  “What? Have you gone in with one of them?” His voice quieter now and its tone registered disbelief, “It must be the Italians then, because the Asians wouldn’t deal with you. They’d just cut your throat and take what they want. So in effect, you’re trading in one Boss for another?” He paused for a moment before trying another angle, “Listen Dan. I’ve got another bag just like this one. Why don’t you take it, there’s enough to give you a good start somewhere else? Take Sally with you and start a new life with her. You can do that, because I finished with her today on the phone.”

  For a few seconds Lee thought that he might be making some headway. Suddenly he was jolted back to reality.

  “Sorry Mr. Lee. It’s gone too far. I can’t go back now.” As he spoke, Dan pushed a key into the car’s boot lock and turned it, before using the key itself as a handle to lift the boot’s lid.

  It rose easily, as did the terrible eye watering smell that invaded Dan’s nostrils. He involuntarily stepped backwards as a ginger shadow burst out of the boot and sought to cling to his arm. Its clawing paws flailing as they tried to find purchase. Lee was unsure as to what was happening, but he quickly grasped at the chance given to him by Mrs. Brown’s cat.

  He charged into Dan’s big frame and grasped the pistol with both hands. His left hand held fast to the weapons grip, while his right hand grasped the barrel near its revolver cylinder. He tried to twist its muzzle toward Dan.

  The cylinder began to move beneath his fingers. A warning to him that Dan had his finger firmly on its trigger.

  Lee used all his force in that second and jerked the barrel.

  Suddenly his ears registered the weapons explosive discharge. Then a deadening dull pain suddenly punched into his fingers, as percussion escaped from the pistols cylinder at the breech end of its barrel.

  Lee cried out at the pain and instinctively pulled his stunned right hand away, while at the same time trying to will it back to its wrestling position. He’d almost succeeded when it suddenly became obvious to him that the fight had gone from Dan. The big man began to sag and Lee stood back a step, watching as Dan slowly slipped to his knees. The gun and his gun hand hanging loosely at his side.

  Lee hunched over as his left hand went to his right, where it squeezed as if with pressure he might compress the pain away. As he did he lifted his head, and through eyes squinted in pain he saw what appeared to be tears running down Dan’s face. They glinted softly as they rolled in the glow of the single light globe.

  He had an unusual feeling of pity, like that for a small child who’d been hurt. As he ceased wringing his hands he heard an utterance of coarse breathless whisper.

  “Sorry Mr. Lee.”

  Suddenly, and with great effort, Dan brought the weapon up. Lee knew that there was no escape at this short range, and as Dan pulled the trigger Lee cried out.

  “No.”

&n
bsp; Lee felt the impact of the bullet that took him side on in the ribs. As he fell, he caught a glimpse of a still kneeling Dan, who sat back on his heels with his head lowered to his chest like an altar boy in prayer.

   Mika had been parked outside the club’s back gateway, and had watched with fear and fascination as the two men had grappled for the gun.

  She’d seen men fight before, but never to this extreme when two opponents had actually gunned each other down. After the second gunshot she’d climbed nervously from her driver’s side door to investigate the outcome. As she stepped lightly and nervously along the side of Lee’s car, she allowed her fingertips to slide gently over its paintwork, as if she was visually impaired and needed guidance.

  Her mouth was dry as she finally rested her fingertips on the rear mudguard of the car, and leaned around its rear end to peer at Dan. He sat on his heels in a silence that seemed to her to indicate finality.

  A sudden sound from Lee’s direction made her jump, and she turned her eyes toward him in time to see him convulse in a short cough. Its sound was emphasized by a blossom of shining bright bubbles that glinted pink under the dull glow of the single light bulb.

  “Tom?” She called softly as she bent over his face and looked down at his unblinking eyes.

  “Mika. Is that you?”

  “Yes Tom. It’s me.”

  “I’m afraid you caught me at a bad time. Something’s holding me down and I can’t get up.”

  “Please Tom. Don’t joke.”

  “I’m not joking baby. I think they’ll carry me away from here boots first.” Lee let out a little chuckle that ended in a short fit of coughing and another blossom of bubbles.

  Mika was unsure how to offer comfort in a situation like this and reached out to touch his forehead. He saw her intention and cried out as best he could, “Don’t touch me baby. Doctor called today and told me I’m H.I.V positive.” Mika felt like she been kicked in the guts as his words spilled out in blood and she recoiled under their weight.

  He coughed again before he continued.

  “You don’t have to worry though. You were always the smart one, with the condoms and that.” Lee went quiet for a moment until more bloodied bubbles rose from his lips. “You always were the smart one Mika. One of the smartest girls I know. Why didn’t we just run away together, go and live somewhere quiet. If I had my time over again, I’d whisk you away to the country.”

  He was beginning to ramble, and his mumbling became almost unintelligible when suddenly as if with new strength he cried out.

  “Mika. There’s a thing you have to do. The suitcase trolley is money, take it, get away before they come.”

  Lee went quiet again and she looked at his chest for bubbles for a sign of life. There seemed to be none until Lee called out one last time as he stared off into space.

  “Remember me.”

  “I will, Tom.” She spoke softly to his quiet face as she thought; I just hope it’s for the right reasons.

  With that she turned, and without looking back struggled with the weight as she wheeled the suitcase laden trolley away.

  An hour later, with the suitcase crammed into the front passenger seat she headed north.

  She drove with her mind in silence, and although she felt no sense of mourning, she noted something akin to a feeling like numbness. It seemed to be complimented by the darkness of the car’s interior and it hung on her like a cloak. She chose the phone number stored under ‘pizza’, and listened to the ring tone until she spoke into the instrument.

  “Mary. Both Tom Lee and Dan Sanic are dead.” There seemed little else to say and she paused for seconds before she added, “Good bye.”

  A moment later, as a single tear ran down her cheek she deleted the phone number. She’d not need it again.

  It was part of her past.

  Just like the lights of Sydney, which were now lost in the darkness behind her.

  Thursday 8.30 am

  Sally felt as if her knees were about to buckle as her head swam in bewilderment. The tears that bathed her eyes brimmed over her eyelids. Blurring the image of the man who spoke to her words of encouragement as the steel barred door of the holding cell clanged closed.

  She wanted to take hold of the bars. Push them away and gain access to her freedom, but they looked dirty and her hands hung in the air momentarily before she pulled them back. The cells smell was a cocktail of cheap perfume, body odour and vomit. It invaded her nostrils, as if it were attracted to the raw bile like taste that clung to the back of her throat.

  Finally she blinked away some of the wetness and focused on the lips of the man. Their movement appeared dislocated and unsynchronized with the words she heard. Almost as if the air between them had become viscous, and the words had to force their way to her one syllable at a time.

  “Don’t worry, Mrs. Lee. I am absolutely sure that I can have you bailed within an hour or so. I also believe that the charges against you won’t hold, as the court order for the phone tap was taken against your husband. On that fact I will file that the use of your conversation with Mr. Sanic should be classed as inadmissible evidence.”

  “Mrs. Lee?” The man waited until he was sure that he had her full attention. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. You just hold on O.K?” He turned away and left her on her own. Complete with her overwhelming sense of desolation.

  She stared at the tiled wall opposite her barred door. It stood stark white under bright cage enclosed overhead lights.

  Suddenly a word formed in her brain. She visualized it in her imagination before she muttered with contempt through quivering lips.

  “Promises.”

  And then she screamed.

  CHAPTER 26