by Mark Ayre
She said, “Your suspicions make no sense.”
Eddie had retaken the door. Abbie’s palm was still on it. Her shoulder and foot were in the way. Before her husband could try and fail again to shut out the intruder, Jess lay one hand on his and another on his shoulder. She looked at Abbie with mistrust but no hatred or disdain.
“I think you should leave.”
Abbie shook her head. “Do you think I like standing here, upsetting the grief-stricken brother and his heavily pregnant wife? I don’t live here. I don’t belong here. It would make my life much easier if I could skip town. Never return.”
“Then, why don’t you?” said Jess. “Police haven’t arrested you—“
“Because I’ve done nothing wrong—“
“Why not just go home, wherever that is?.”
“Because I’m involved,” said Abbie. “In more ways than one. Danny isn’t the only person who pissed off Francis. To help a frightened teen, I just took out two of Francis’ goons. Now I’m in the frame, but I won’t leave until I’ve ensured no one else is going to die.”
“Why?” said Jess.
“Because it’s the right thing to do. Because I’ve seen people like Francis before, and I know it’s only going to get worse. You think now Danny’s gone, you’re safe? I don’t believe you are.”
“You know we’re not,” said Eddie. “You’re the one working with him.”
“No,” said Abbie. ”Like I said, that makes no sense. If you could put your grief to one side a moment and consider the situation, you would know I can’t be involved. You would get that.”
Eddie was unable to put his grief aside, and who could blame him? If he had been alone, he would have started slamming the door again. Would have broken his fingers before he gave up trying to get Abbie to leave. Eventually, she would have had no choice but to relent. Luckily, he was not alone.
“Help us then,” said Jess. “What’s the rational argument we’ve been missing?”
All day, the sky had been bleak, full of clouds. Those clouds had been whispy rather than bloated, light grey rather than black. Still, drops began to fall from the sky as Abbie stood on the doorstep. With her change of clothes AWOL, Abbie had no desire to take a drenching. The look on Jess’ face made it clear there would be no entry unless Abbie was able to do more to persuade the Dean couple she was innocent.
She would have to speak fast.
“Okay,” she said. “Francis is a crook with a network of criminals at his disposal. I don’t know what his connection to Danny is but for whatever reason, he wants him dead. For such a job, he would usually go to one of his trusted staff members, click his fingers, and the murder happens.”
Actually, Abbie knew, such hits were rarer than most people thought. Murder was always messy and was becoming harder and harder to get away with as the technology and science available to the police improved. These days, even the top crime bosses murdered as few people as possible, and only when they found it to be unavoidable.
Ditching this line of reasoning in the spirit of getting to the point, Abbie said, “Let’s assume, for the sake of argument, that Francis wants to distance himself from this murder. So, rather than using one of his people, he outsources. Someone no one in town has ever heard of or would recognise. In this case, that’s me. I’m his assassin.”
At this, Eddie’s face twisted. Grief heard the confession and leapt upon it, and he almost leapt upon Abbie.
Jess was paying attention. She gripped his shoulder and shushed him as she might soon shush her child in the middle of the night. Wrapped her hand around his hand on the door and squeezed. She nodded to Abbie, who went on.
“Here’s the rub. If I was an unknown assassin called in from out of town, why would I, A, make myself known to you and Danny and, B, allow him to stay in my hotel room? I wouldn’t even have paid for a hotel room, but if I did, I certainly wouldn’t let my victim stay there.”
Jess opened her mouth, but Abbie held out a hand to cut her off.
“You’ll say I set myself up an alibi by staying with you, but why bother? Even with an alibi, that course of action was still going to bring me to the attention of the police, which by extension would endanger Francis, which was what he was trying to avoid by hiring me in the first place, within the confines of this hypothetical. So why take the unnecessary risk? If you remember, Eddie, I was hidden in shadow when I first found you and Danny. It wasn’t until he knocked you to the ground that I intervened, but why would I do that? Your life would mean nothing to me if I was who you think I am. Even if it did, it was clear you and Danny were close. I knew he might knock you down, might even knock you out, but I didn’t believe your life was in danger. In fact, if he had knocked you out, that would have been perfect. At that point, I would have crept out of the darkness and slit his throat, then slipped into the night. Nobody in this town would ever have known I was here. Simple.”
Abbie stopped. Waited. She could see Jess was conflicted. She had been suspicious of Abbie for obvious reasons, but Abbie’s logic made sense, and now she was unsure.
Eddie wasn’t.
“You didn’t want him dead,” said Eddie. “You wanted him alone. Somewhere Francis’ people could torture Danny and get back what he stole.”
Abbie tilted her head. This was new information. She hadn’t known why Francis was after Danny. It seemed Travis was not the only person keeping Francis’ possessions, or perceived possessions, from him.
That Francis had wanted to reclaim something from Danny added an extra level of curiosity.
“But Danny wasn’t tortured,” said Abbie. “His killer stabbed him the moment he opened the door. Sanderson must have told you that?”
Eddie opened his mouth. Closed it. He had decided Abbie was responsible for his brother’s death. No matter what logical arguments she presented, grief held to this belief. It did not want to let go.
“Francis must have thought he had it hidden in the room,” said Eddie. “He killed Danny, then searched for it.”
Abbie considered then disregarded this.
“Surely he’d still keep Danny alive in case it wasn’t in the room? And is this item small?”
Eddie wouldn’t have answered. Jess said, “No.”
“Then Francis would have known it wasn’t in the room,” said Abbie.
“How?”
“Because Danny didn’t have anything but the jacket on his back when we dropped him at the hotel. If I was the villain you think I am, I would have told Francis that. In which case, the only reason to murder Danny immediately would be if he had found what Danny had stolen. Had he, do you know?”
Neither of them spoke, which was answer enough.
“He hadn’t,” said Abbie. Considered. Looked at their faces. “He still hasn’t, has he? He’s sent someone to see you?”
More silence. Abbie closed her eyes. It was becoming clearer. Danny had died before revealing to Francis where he’d hidden this stolen item. Francis still wanted it back, so the natural place to turn was Danny’s local relative, his brother. That put Eddie and Francis at odds and could easily be what got Eddie killed.
Question was, why had Francis sent someone to murder Danny if he did not yet have back what Danny had stolen?
Second question: what had Danny stolen? And did it relate in any way to Travis’ mugging of Francis’ wife?
Both questions could wait for the moment.
“It still doesn’t make sense for it to be me,” said Abbie. “If I wanted to find what Danny had stolen, I would have waited until he knocked you out and followed him. Even if he failed to knock you out, the two of you eventually would have left. I would have followed; would have kept on his tail until he led me to this stolen item, or until I got him somewhere I could persuade him to tell me where it was. A place I can assure you wouldn’t have been a hotel room booked in my own bloody name.”
Abbie took a breath. Don’t let frustration overcome you. Grieving brother, pregnant wife. No one was thinking
straight. All she could do was try persuade them to let her in.
“If Francis has been to visit you, you know you’re in danger,” Abbie said. “I know you might find this difficult to accept, but I can help. I want to help. But I can’t do that unless you let me in. Unless you put at least a little faith in me. I know it’s hard. I know you’ve lost your brother, and you’re hurting, and you want someone to blame, but it isn’t me. Please, Eddie. Let me help. Let me show you I’m on your side.”
Some of the fury had drained from Eddie’s eyes. They were still lost, grief-stricken.
Far more in control of her senses, Jess again squeezed her husband’s hand and pulled it gently from the door before placing it by his side. Her other hand remained on his shoulder. She pressed forward so her bump was against his back and spoke softly, as though attempting to calm an agitated animal.
“I think Abbie’s made some fair points,” she said. “I think we should invite her in and make her a drink. Talk to her.”
Eddie didn’t respond. His head did turn for the first time away from Abbie towards his wife. He allowed her to edge him backwards, out of the way, allowing Jess to step forward.
“What would you like?” she asked Abbie. “Let me guess; anything but hot chocolate?”
Fourteen
Jess was in the same seat in which Eddie and Abbie had found her in the early hours of that morning. Eddie sat at her side. The couple held hands. Jess had her free palm flat on her belly, feeling the kicks of the baby that would soon enter the world.
Abbie had taken the armchair and had twisted her legs to face the couple. In her hands, she held a steaming cup of black coffee. Instant. A little too weak for her liking but a damn sight better than the hot chocolate Jess had served the previous evening.
Jess was of a mind to give Abbie a chance but was nowhere near the levels of trust they had reached before going to bed in the early hours. Abbie knew she had to tread carefully. Especially seeing as she had no good reason to be hanging around, trying to help this grieving brother and his wife. She decided to tackle that, again, head-on.
"I know you don't know why I'm here. You suspect I was involved in Danny's murder, and I've already laid out the reasons why that could not have been me. You're still far from sure, but that's okay. Even if you were sure I had nothing to do with Danny's murder, you might question why I've stuck around. More, why I've claimed I want to help you."
"That's exactly what I'm wondering," said Jess.
"And that's unfortunate," said Abbie. "I don't have what you would consider to be a good reason. All I have is my intuition. In the almost 16 hours I've been in town, I've now run into two sets of people with two seemingly separate problems, both of which revolve around the same man. As I mentioned, the other issue involves a group of teenagers. Funnily enough, they also have something Francis wants, and for which he is happy to hurt them. But I don't think it's the same thing. I believe in responsibility. I believe that now I know you're in danger, I have to help. I cannot walk away. As I said, I've dealt with people like Francis before."
"In what capacity?" asked Jess.
"Private. Always private. But I know how Francis operates. I can help, but first, I need to know his history with Danny. Without that, I'm blind. I can't do anything, and I might as well walk away. Maybe that's what you want. I hope you'll give me the chance to prove how valuable I can be if you let me stick around.
Abbie stopped. Jess looked at her husband. It seemed he wasn't listening. He was staring at Abbie, but it didn't look as though anything was going in. Abbie suspected he had missed nothing and thought Jess believed the same. She squeezed her husband's hand.
"I think she's right, Ed," said Jess. "If she wanted to kill Danny, there were ways she could do that without anyone seeing her. If she wanted to find the money, this wouldn't be the right way to go about it."
Money. There it was. Abbie noted the mention but said nothing. Jess was waiting on her husband.
"Maybe they've sent her to win our trust," said Eddie. "They might think we're hiding the money, and if she gets closer to us, we'll tell her where it is."
This was a ridiculous notion for a couple of reasons. Abbie could have explained. Given Eddie's current mistrust and disdain for her, she was lucky Jess had also noted the failure in his argument and was willing to point it out.
"If they were going to send someone to win our trust, why would they send the same person who gave Danny the room in which he was killed? They'd know we'd be suspicious."
"Maybe it's a double bluff."
"Oh, don't be ridiculous."
The previous evening, Jess had been plenty sharp with her husband. This was the most cutting her tongue had been since Abbie had arrived today. Given the way her cheeks flushed red, Abbie guessed this was the sharpest Jess had been with Eddie since Danny's death.
"I'm sorry," she said, now rubbing her belly rather than merely resting her hand there, as though to remind her husband she was pregnant and therefore should be forgiven the outburst. "But you have to see that can't be right? Why risk a double bluff? There had to be another way to bring someone into our lives if they wanted to get us to reveal where the money was by subterfuge. Besides, why would they do that? Having seen what happened to Danny, if we knew where the money was, we would give it them immediately. They know we don't know where it is."
These were the exact points Abbie would have made. Eddie was more likely to listen to Jess than to Abbie, but even with the arguments coming from his wife, he looked unconvinced. Abbie understood. Eddie was furious at Francis for what had happened to Danny, but Francis was untouchable. Abbie was here. He wanted someone to hate, and if Abbie was guilty, that someone had delivered themselves to him, ready for punishment.
Worried the conversation might become mired in Eddie's grief, Abbie turned to Jess and tried to move things along.
"Am I to deduce that Danny had stolen money from Francis?"
Jess glanced at Eddie, then back to Abbie. She nodded. “Hundred grand. Lord knows how. From what we can gather, he got into Francis' house and stole it from his private safe."
Lord knows how. A valid exclamation. Danny was a chancer, not a safecracker. To steal the money, he would need to either stumble upon an open safe—an extraordinary stroke of luck given he presumably had to break into the house to reach the safe in the first place—or know the code.
If he knew the code, someone had given it him. There was no chance that someone had been Francis. Who else would have known the code?
Francis' wife, perhaps?
The same woman whose bag Travis had stolen on Francis' orders. Why? Because Francis was looking for clues to confirm his suspicions about his missing hundred grand, perhaps?
Abbie filed all this away for consideration. Said to Jess, "So he stole the money. When was this?"
"Couple of weeks ago."
"And Eddie found out?"
"That's right. A week ago, Eddie visited Danny and saw the money. He flipped out. Demanded Danny return it at once. Eddie's always been protective of his idiotic little brother."
Realising this wording might be seen as rather harsh when directed at one so recently deceased, Jess' eyes flashed to Eddie. He seemed not to have noticed. Abbie pressed on.
"What did Danny say?"
"He said, okay. The liar," said Eddie. A rare foray into the conversation. His voice was low and hard. Abbie realised he was not only grieving for his brother. He was also furious at Danny.
"But he didn't?" said Abbie.
"He planned to do it that night but chickened out," said Jess. "To gain confidence, he went drinking and ended up passing out at the bar. When he woke, head no doubt pounding, he returned home. When he arrived, the money was gone."
"Stupid little—"
Jess laid a hand on Eddie's arm, stilling his furious tongue.
"Soon as he finds out, he comes running over here in a state, horrified. I wish I could say we were surprised." Jess sighed. "Danny's always liked a
drink, and when he drinks, he brags. To a drunk man, what can seem more worthy of a gloat than having ripped off the most powerful crook in town? The question isn't who he told, but who he didn't."
Jess was trying not to let her disgust show. She wanted to respect the dead. Talk of the events that had led to Danny's demise seemed to have warped Eddie's grief for his brother into something ugly, hateful. Abbie wished they could move off the topic, but not yet.
"He wanted your help?" she asked the couple.
"Yep," said Jess. "Only reason I knew about it. Eddie was trying to protect me but in Danny rolled, ranting and raving. He wanted us to help find the money, but how could we do that when he had no idea who he'd told? And he'd lost his house keys. Or so he thought. More likely, someone stole them while he was passed out at the bar or, knowing Danny, he gave them away. Anyway, by that point, it didn't matter. The money was gone, and Francis was going to find out. We had no choice. Danny had to run."
Jess looked away, trying to hide her bitter resentment. Tears had gathered in Eddie's eyes again. While Jess's frustration grew, sorrow once more overtook Eddie's rage.
"This wouldn't have happened," he said, "if Danny could have just stayed away."
"But he came back yesterday?" said Abbie. "Why?"
"I'm all he's got," said Eddie, reminding Abbie of the comment Eddie had made to Danny about his lack of friends. That had stung. Now Danny was dead, and Eddie couldn't apologise. How often had he thought of those words in the last few hours?
"It's not only that," Jess was saying. "I think he was in love."
Eddie was about to respond, but Abbie got there first. "Yes. I heard him say that to you. Do you know who this lover was?"
"No," said Eddie. One could never be sure, but Abbie believed he was lying. It was the way his eyes darted away from her, the way his free hand clenched at his side.
How much had Eddie and Danny's argument covered when Eddie had discovered Danny with a hundred grand of a dangerous man's money? Surely Eddie would have demanded to know how Danny had got into Francis' safe? Probably, Danny had lied. Had Eddie pushed? Had he pushed and pushed until Danny was forced to admit he had fallen in love and that this lover had given him the code?