The Evan Buckley Thrillers: Books 1 - 4 (Evan Buckley Thrillers Boxsets)

by James, Harper

  Guillory waited patiently for him to finish, waited even longer for him to meet her eyes.

  ‘You think it might be Sarah’s, but you can’t be sure.’

  He gave her a quick, sharp nod.

  ‘If they’d let you smoke, I’d buy you a cigar.’

  He saw her thinking back behind her eyes, her mind continuing to work through the implications. He’d be lucky to get away without revealing the rest of it. Maybe not tonight, but she’d get it out of him eventually.

  She put her elbows on the table, rested her chin on her hands, stared at him. He thought maybe it was a good time to go to the men’s room. He went to push himself up.

  ‘Stay right there.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Wet yourself if you need to. You’re not going anywhere until I get to the bottom of this.’

  He settled back down. He didn’t need to go anyway.

  ‘Let’s assume this is Sarah’s, not just one of the millions like it.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Let’s also assume it was in that room because Sarah was in there with it and lost it.’

  He nodded.

  ‘Well, she definitely wasn’t in the room that night. So where is she? Or’—her words slowed as her mind worked through the logic—‘where do you think she is that makes you go back there and look for her?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  The look on her face said you don’t get off that easily.

  ‘Where do you think she is, Evan? I know it’s all complete nonsense. I want to know what you think. And why? Because even though everybody thinks you’re an idiot—’

  ‘You included.’

  ‘Me included, yes, there’s normally something you think is a good reason behind the stupid things you do.’

  It was a strange mix of an accusation—a little bit of a compliment with a lot of criticism. He couldn’t deny it was spot on, though. There wasn’t any good reason not to tell her now. She already knew he’d been out to Hendricks’ farm, could guess he’d be going back out there again. She knew the general reason why.

  Unfortunately, it was the specific reason that was going to get him the smack upside the back of his head.

  ‘Got a pen?’

  She found one in her bag, passed it over. Then she leaned towards him and dropped her voice, her eyes flicking from side to side as if checking for enemy agents.

  ‘Let me guess. You’ve found a secret map. You’re going to draw it for me now.’

  He picked up the piece of paper with the four messages written on it and added another two.

  Nobody found the second level.

  Shame Faulkner burned down the barns. Now you’ll never know.

  He pushed the slip of paper across to her side of the table and made a quick dash for the safety of the men’s room.

  He prayed there was a window big enough to climb through.

  Chapter 26

  ELWOOD CROW LIVED ALONE in a big old Victorian property, set back in substantial grounds. Despite the fact it gave Evan the creeps just standing on the doorstep waiting for the old man to come to the door, it made him think Crow must have been a better investigator than he was. The door swung smoothly open without a sound from the old hinges, leaving Evan a little disappointed. If he owned a house like this he’d make damn sure the door creaked.

  ‘Mr Buckley, come on in.’

  Evan wasn’t exactly surprised.

  ‘Anthony Fox gave you a call?’

  Crow nodded, the spare skin hanging from his neck flapping. It crossed Evan’s mind that at some point in the past, a change of name to Turkey might have been appropriate. Crow stepped aside and Evan entered the hallway, took in the musty smell, the threadbare rug. Maybe not so successful after all. He hoped people didn’t judge his performance in the same way.

  Crow led the way down the hall, striding past tired-looking animal heads and faded pictures, to a sitting room in the back. He gestured to a chair in front of a long-dead fire, took the one on the other side himself.

  Cocksucker.

  Evan jerked forward, spun around in his chair to see where the voice came from. An American crow hopped along a wooden bar in a cage behind him, repeated the greeting.

  ‘Plenty likes you,’ Elwood Crow said with a wrinkled old grin. ‘What else am I going to keep with a name like mine? A Canary?’

  ‘Might be more polite. What’s he say to people he doesn’t like?’

  ‘Wait and see. He’ll call you it before you leave. You’ll know it when he does.’

  Evan said he couldn’t wait, sat back in his chair and tried to ignore the bird chattering to itself behind him.

  ‘Anthony told me you’re interested in Jesús Narvaez. And Francisco. He also says you don’t want to say why.’

  Evan shrugged.

  ‘You know how it is. How many years were you in the job?’

  ‘Sixty or so. Still am, if anyone wants to hire me.’ He gave Evan another wrinkled grin. ‘Not so good at the rough and tumble as I used to be.’

  The comment made Evan study him more closely. He’d been a big man when he was younger. Looked like he still wore the same shirts. His collar was buttoned tight—although tight was the wrong word. Evan could have got his whole hand down the gap between his collar and wrinkly neck. Even so, despite the liver spots and loose flesh, his hands were still large, faded white scars criss-crossing the knuckles, his wrists thick.

  ‘Research is more my thing now.’

  He inclined his head towards the cluttered desk on the other side of the room. Evan looked, saw a new laptop and all the other toys to go with it.

  ‘The internet’s a wonderful invention. Used responsibly, of course.’

  Something about the way Crow said research gave Evan an uncomfortable feeling—that he was already about to lose control of the direction the conversation was going. He guessed he’d be doing a lot of giving before he took any information away.

  The way Crow said used responsibly was a strange comment to make too. It implied he was just as at home using it irresponsibly. Surely the wrinkled old fart wasn’t a hacker.

  Crow suddenly remembered his manners. He pushed himself out of his chair, his movements still fluid for a man his age.

  ‘Can I offer you something to drink?’

  Evan said he’d have some coffee. Crow left him alone with the other crow, the one with the feathers and the beady eyes—and the foul beak. He got up and went over to the bird’s cage, got the same greeting as before. He smiled to himself. He bet Plenty was good at moving the Jehovah’s Witnesses along when they outstayed their welcome. The bird hopped up and down the bar, nodding its head, then dropped into the bottom of the cage, started throwing seed everywhere.

  Evan went over to the desk. The laptop was switched on. He ran his finger lightly over the touchpad. A dialog box popped up asking for a password. His hand hovered over the keyboard, his mind racing.

  ‘It’s not Plenty, if that’s what you were going to try,’ Elwood Crow said from behind him.

  Evan spun around, the color rising up his cheeks. Crow carried two cups of coffee across to their chairs and put them down on a low table between them. Evan looked down at Crow’s feet, at the house slippers he wore. Had he deliberately left him alone and then crept back?

  ‘I don’t blame you, it’s my fault,’ Crow said. ‘I mentioned research. You wouldn’t be much good at your job if you weren’t nosy.’

  ‘No, I shouldn’t—’

  ‘And you were right, it was you I was looking up.’

  Evan dropped into the chair, his premonition about where the conversation was headed proved right, a nagging worry in the back of his mind. Just how thorough had Crow’s research had been?

  ‘I read about the Clayton case,’ Crow said.

  ‘My finest hour.’

  Crow gave a slow dip of the head.

  ‘Don’t knock yourself. I read another interesting, older article.’

  Here it comes.

 
‘It can’t have been easy to have your wife disappear like that. I hope you don’t mind me bringing it up.’

  Evan shook his head. He took a sip of his coffee and watched Crow over the rim of the cup. Like a coffee cup was all it took to hide from the past.

  ‘Bet you feel like you can’t ever escape it, eh?’

  ‘Sounds like you’ve been spending time inside my head. I’m surprised you found anything. I don’t remember it making the front page of the newspaper. And the police sure as hell didn’t make a lot of fuss about it.’

  ‘Ah. Sorry. Didn’t mean to touch a nerve.’

  Evan waved it off.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago.’

  Crow’s expression told him exactly how much he believed that. Thankfully he didn’t push it.

  ‘I could help, you know.’

  Evan wanted to know how it had happened, how it was suddenly all about him. There was something compelling about Crow’s words, about the man himself. Evan’s gut clenched, the back of his neck suddenly clammy. He believed if anyone could help, this enigmatic old man could.

  ‘I’m sure you’re thinking stupid old fool, leave me alone and go back to your foul-mouthed bird. The offer is there, if you want it.’

  The bird chose that exact moment to utter the phrase Elwood had warned Evan about. A laugh exploded out of Evan’s mouth before he could stop himself. The bird responded by repeating it. Evan had the distinct impression Crow was somehow able to make the bird speak when he wanted it to, to interrupt the conversation or move it in a different direction.

  ‘Told you. And don’t laugh. It encourages him.’

  ‘I bet that gets rid of your visitors pretty quick. I won’t ask where he learned it.’

  Crow shrugged, a small smile on his lips.

  ‘I don’t get many visitors these days.’

  Evan didn’t bother to say he wasn’t surprised. He didn’t need to, the old man seemed to be able to read his mind.

  ‘Can we talk about Jesús Narvaez now?’

  ‘And—’

  Evan was sure he was about to say Francisco, but Crow had more surprises up the sleeve of his too-big shirt.

  ‘Frank Hanna?’

  A pregnant silence hung between them.

  ‘I don’t know how long you’ve been working this case,’ Crow said, ‘but I guarantee you it’s not as long as I did fifty years ago. The Foxes, Anthony in particular, despite how it might look now, were desperate. They had plenty’—the bird suddenly squawked at the sound of its name—‘of money and didn’t mind spending it. There wasn’t much I didn’t find out about Frank Hanna and his father, George.’

  ‘And—’

  ‘And Thompson too, yes.’

  They stared at each other, both knowing the other man’s thoughts. It was as if a bond had formed between them already. Their minds worked along the same lines.

  ‘Did you ever meet him?’ Evan asked.

  Crow shook his head slowly, his eyes losing some of their focus.

  ‘Once.’

  The shaking of his head wasn’t a denial, more a reflection on the whole sorry sad situation.

  ‘What happened?’

  Crow snapped out of his reverie.

  ‘I’d rather not say.’ He smiled at Evan’s obvious frustration. ‘I know. It’s all a one-way street, isn’t it? You have to show me yours, but I won’t show you mine.’

  ‘Jesús Narvaez told me he planned to kill Thompson. Somebody beat him to it.’

  Crow shrugged.

  ‘Hardly surprising with a man like that.’

  Evan studied him. It was impossible to say, looking at his shrunken body inside the too-big shirt, what he might have been capable of in his prime. The short time he’d spent in his company told him one thing—he wouldn’t put anything past him. He also wouldn’t get anything out of him the old man didn’t want to come out.

  ‘Where were we?’ Crow said, the meaning as clear as if he’d held up his hand and said Enough. ‘When Anthony called me and told me a private investigator wanted to talk to me about Jesús Narvaez, I did a quick search on the internet. I discovered that Frank Hanna is alive and well’—he paused and raised an eyebrow at Evan who ignored it—‘with a net worth in the hundreds of millions.’

  He gave Evan a chance to say something, which he passed on, then continued.

  ‘One thing sixty years in this business—and eighty plus years on the planet—has taught me is that guilt is a powerful motivator.’

  Evan saw no harm in admitting who his client was, told Crow he’d guessed right, waited for him to put the rest of the pieces into place.

  He didn’t have to wait long.

  ‘So now Frank Hanna is searching for an heir. I assume he’s recently discovered he’s not got long to live. Don’t worry, Mr Buckley, you’ve not given anything away or betrayed a confidence, it’s just not that unusual. I spent half my life on similar cases.’

  Yes, but had the added complications of third parties like McIntyre, intent on him not succeeding, been an integral part of those cases?

  ‘Doesn’t he have any children?’ Crow said.

  Evan hesitated. Every time he gave up one small piece of information, Crow managed to put together the rest of it.

  ‘He’s got a daughter.’

  Crow smiled, jumping to a conclusion someone of his generation would understand.

  ‘He’s a bit of a dinosaur, eh? Doesn’t think a woman is fit to run his business empire.’

  ‘Something like that.’

  Crow might have been a dinosaur himself, but, as Anthony Fox had warned, his mind was as sharp as ever. And Evan hadn’t been positive enough in his confirmation. The smile widened into a grin.

  ‘Something else too?’

  Crow shifted in his seat, leaned forward, his leathery face more animated than Evan had seen it. He’d be rubbing his hands together next.

  ‘It makes me wish I could still get out there, get stuck into the nitty gritty. The internet is ... fascinating, incredibly useful, it’s just not very exciting. Let me guess.’

  He sat back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. He angled his head towards the ceiling, his fingers steepled. The only sound in the room was his pet crow scratching around in the bottom of its cage.

  ‘Hanna doesn’t like his daughter’s husband,’ Crow said, his head snapping downwards.

  ‘He’s dead.’

  Crow’s forehead creased in a frown, at least Evan thought he saw the existing creases deepen, as Crow did the math. To Evan’s relief he dismissed it.

  ‘He doesn’t approve of ... the man she’s with now.’

  He looked at Evan, knowing he was right. Evan reckoned he was on the verge of getting up and going back to his laptop. He’d find out sooner or later, and one thing had become abundantly clear—Evan wasn’t going to get any answers until the old man had sucked him dry.

  So he told him all about McIntyre and Stanton and once he’d started, there was no stopping him. Crow peered at his ear when he got to the part about McIntyre taking a bite out of it.

  ‘I assume that’s what you meant when you said exciting earlier.’

  Crow’s hand went to his face, a similar involuntary gesture to the one Evan made when someone mentioned his ear. Evan studied his face, made out a long scar running across his cheek. He hadn’t noticed it before, hidden amongst the wrinkles.

  The point of the story wasn’t lost on Crow.

  ‘This McIntyre has a vested interest in making sure you don’t find an heir.’

  ‘And the people he owes money to.’

  Crow nodded.

  ‘Exciting, yes. That’s exactly what I miss.’

  ‘Tell me about Mexico.’

  Chapter 27

  CROW GOT OUT OF his chair and went over to the bird’s cage.

  ‘You don’t mind if I let Plenty out? I only put him in when I have visitors.’

  Evan waved a hand, no problem.

  ‘He might sit on
your head, that’s all. You’re sitting in his chair.’

  He opened the door to the cage and the bird hopped onto the back of his hand, then flew lazily across the room and settled on the table next to the laptop. Crow sat back down.

  Evan smiled to himself.

  Got your story ready now?

  ‘There’s not a lot to tell. I learned the girl’s family were from Ciudad Juárez.’

  ‘Why would they tell you that? They must have known you were working for the adoptive parents.’

  ‘I was very persuasive.’ He saw the look on Evan’s face. ‘No, not like that.’ He rubbed his fingers and thumb together, the universal sign for cash.

  ‘Something must have changed. They didn’t want Hanna’s money. Narvaez gave it back to me when I met him.’

  ‘Maybe it was the way it was offered. Did Narvaez tell you the whole story?’

  Evan nodded.

  ‘You can understand then. There was something else as well. They’d made the effort to come to the United States, were prepared to risk being deported and everything else that goes with being an illegal, all for a chance at a better life. Maybe they didn’t want their grandson back at square one in some filthy shithole in Ciudad Juárez.’

  ‘Is it really as bad as they say?’

  ‘Worse. They called it the most violent city on Earth. I hear it’s improved now the drug cartels have settled their differences. It was pretty bad back then. It’s still the sort of place where you have to stand in line to commit a crime.’

  ‘So Jesús was acting on his own when he took the child,’ Evan said, then paused. ‘We’re assuming he did snatch him.’

  Crow nodded, the loose skin under his chin bouncing up and down.

  ‘I don’t think there’s much doubt about it.’

  ‘You didn’t find him?’

  ‘No. I tracked Jesús down. It wasn’t difficult finding a man whose face looked like ... well, I’m sure you know what I mean. Even in a place like Ciudad Juárez, he stuck out like a sore thumb.’

  There was a sudden flapping of wings from the other side of the room as the pet crow launched itself into the air. It flew a slow lap of the room and settled on the back of Evan’s chair. He was sure this time the two crows were working together like some double act.