by David Roys
‘What in all hell have you two queers been doing in here?’ he said. There was a second guard with a pump-action shotgun. The first guard looked up at Chris. ‘Sanders,’ he said, ‘you’ve got a visitor. It seems you might be getting out of here sooner than we thought, and by the looks of things, you’d’ve been lucky to survive another night.’ He looked down at the huge man on the ground. ‘I don’t know how you managed to beat this big son-of-a-bitch, but I suggest you don’t want to be here when he gets untied; now move your ass.’
Chris was led through the maze of metal gantries and walkways until he came to a painted metal door. The door buzzed and clicked open and he was surprised to see Detective Ben Naylor sitting at a table.
‘Missing me already?’ Chris said.
Naylor half-smiled and gestured to the seat opposite him. ‘Sit down Chris,’ he said, ‘I’ve got something I think you want to hear.’
Chris pulled the chair out from under the table and sat. This was a minimum security processing room, the furniture was not fastened down and the two men were in the room alone. There was no observation mirror and no camera. Chris figured he could have caved in Naylor’s head before a guard had even opened the door and so either Naylor liked to live dangerously or he had changed his mind about whether Chris was a dangerous man.
‘How’s Michelle?’ said Chris.
‘She’s fine. In fact she’s more than fine, Chris. It’s because of her that I’m here.’ Naylor slid a piece of paper across to Chris. ‘I have a notice for your immediate release and all charges have been dropped.’
As the pressure and misery of the last few days suddenly lifted, Chris felt overjoyed. ‘I don’t understand,’ said Chris with a big grin, ‘only yesterday you wanted to see me rot in this place and now I’m supposed to believe I’m a free man?’
Naylor nodded but he didn’t look happy. ‘There’re complications Chris,’ he said. ‘Do you know why you ended up in here?’
‘Some stupid son-of-a-bitch detective named Naylor,’ said Chris.
‘OK, I can understand you’re pissed, but I was doing my job Chris, I’m sure you can understand that. You ended up in here because somebody wanted you in here. There was irrefutable evidence that you killed Jasmine Allan. There was a log showing that you had taken your gun from the locker at the gun club. There were traces of Teflon on the inside of your gun’s barrel which matched the ammunition used to kill Jasmine.’
‘Teflon?’ said Chris. ‘Why the hell would I use armor-piercing rounds in a hand gun?’
‘Listen to me Chris. You’re in big trouble. Someone put a lot of effort into ensuring you went down for this. Someone that could pull strings, do the impossible. Do you understand what I’m saying?’
Chris shrugged.
‘Someone with a lot of power wants you out of the way. You can walk out of here a free man, but you need to watch your back.’
There it was. The feeling of joy didn’t last for long and now the troubles were back but right now there was only one thing he cared about. ‘Get me out of here Naylor, I want to see Michelle.’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea Chris. I think that whoever tried to pin this on you might want to get rid of you permanently. Do you really want to expose Michelle to that kind of danger?’
Chris shook his head. ‘Last night my cell mate tried to kill me,’ he said. Naylor seemed shocked. For all the stories of violence in prison, it was unusual for someone to commit murder in a prison. Chris continued, ‘I woke up in the middle of the night with three hundred pounds of meat on me and a pillow over my face.’
‘What happened?’
‘Well let’s just say I’m pleased I’m not going to be sharing a room with him again tonight and I don’t think he’ll be looking me up on Facebook any time soon.’
‘I don’t like this Chris, do you have any idea how hard it is to get a guy killed in prison?’ said Naylor. Chris stared at him waiting for the answer. ‘Not very.’ Naylor said. ‘But the thing is, you were in a locked cell with the guy. I’m guessing you hadn’t done anything to piss him off enough to make him want to kill you?’
‘Not even I can make enemies that quickly,’ said Chris.
‘I’m worried Chris. To arrange for that man to be in your cell means that your enemies have influence that goes deep. I’m talking about bribing prison guards, officials, maybe even a judge. Plus the guy had no chance of getting away with it. There’d have been one dead guy in a cell with another looking as guilty as hell.’
‘He didn’t seem like the sharpest tool in the set.’
‘Maybe so, but why would anyone volunteer to get locked up and then commit murder in a way that meant they would almost certainly get convicted for it?’
‘Get me out of here Naylor,’ Chris said. ‘I want to see Michelle. Just get me the hell out of here.’
Naylor nodded. ‘There’s something else you need to know about Michelle. She probably won’t be at home right now.’
NINETEEN
Michelle had gone to Georgetown University Hospital just as soon as she’d gotten the news about her dad. Frank had offered to go with her, he was very sympathetic and after all Michelle had been through, he felt it was the least he could do, but Michelle declined. Instead, she made Frank promise to contact Detective Naylor and tell him about the cleaners and how they’d seen Chris in his office at the time of the shooting, she also wanted him to contact the senior partners at her dad’s firm and make sure that the new evidence was processed quickly and Chris was released as soon as possible. Frank had agreed and said he would make his own way back and she should go straight away.
The traffic had been light and she’d parked easily. The nurse on the phone had not given any other details but somehow Michelle knew her dad was going to be OK. She couldn’t imagine any other scenario. Her dad had always been there for her. As an only child, she’d probably received more attention than was good for her. If her dad had regretted having a daughter instead of a son, he’d never shown it. Her memories of her childhood were full of happy times. She remembered being a small girl standing outside his study and watching him work. He’d looked so serious, almost sad, as though he was trying to solve a tricky puzzle, but then he’d looked up from his papers and his serious concentrating face had cracked into a broad smile. He’d held out his arms and let her jump on his knee and gave her a big hug. That was her dad all over. He’d always made time for her no matter how crazy things had gotten at work. She guessed she’d come to rely on him. When things went wrong he was always the first one she turned to, even after she’d met Chris. He would be OK; she just knew it deep down. He had to be.
She entered the air-conditioned lobby through a pair of sliding glass doors and tried to get her bearings. The room was large and clean with a slight smell of pine disinfectant and antiseptic. People busied themselves in all directions carrying charts and medicines, wheeling wheelchairs and yet the lobby area seemed strangely calm with lots of miserable people sitting in the waiting area. Busy but quiet. The marble floor and high ceiling made it look more like a hotel lobby than the reception to a hospital, but there was no doubt that everyone here would rather be someplace else, and that included the staff. She walked quickly to the reception desk and a nurse smiled warmly.
‘I’m Michelle Sanders,’ she said. ‘I’m looking for my dad, Bob Whittaker. He’s had a heart attack. I’m told you have him here?’
The nurse continued to smile with her eyes but at the same time gave an impression of sincere concern. A well-rehearsed face intended to show empathy but confidence.
‘Certainly Michelle,’ she said, ‘I’ll just take a moment to find where he is.’ She turned her attention to a computer and started to tap at the keyboard. She paused and studied the screen, then tapped some more. Michelle looked around the room. The people waiting looked miserable, except for a small boy who was happily playing with a toy car, pushing it around the floor close to his mother’s legs. The nurse stopped tapping at the keybo
ard and turned her face up to Michelle whilst her eyes still gazed down at the screen. ‘Ah yes, here he is. He’s in cardiology intensive care ward six. If you take the elevator to the fifth floor and follow the signs to their reception area, they’ll be able to give you more details on his condition. I’ll give them a call and tell them you’re coming.’
Michelle thanked the nurse and walked quickly, almost ran, to the elevator and pushed the button two or three times. The elevator arrived and Michelle pushed her way in, past the people trying to get out and hit the button for floor five. She felt herself get heavier as the elevator accelerated upwards, but it seemed to travel too slowly. She needed to see her dad and know he was OK. She’d told him he needed to do more exercise and watch his diet more. He played golf, but the drinks that followed didn’t do anything for his waistline and he was never really careful with what he ate. Large business dinners and drinks seemed to be a part of his job. She was going to make sure that things changed from now on. She’d get him a dietician and a personal trainer. Why was this lift taking so long?
Michelle followed the signs to the cardiology department and eventually found the reception area. She told the nurse who she was but before the nurse could answer, a doctor interrupted.
‘Michelle, I’m Doctor Reeves. I’m the consultant cardiologist looking after your father.’ He held out his hand and Michelle took it. He had kind eyes. ‘Come with me, we’ll find somewhere private to talk.’
Michelle had seen enough episodes of ER to know that this wasn’t good. They only took the family members into a private room when it was bad news. Michelle could feel the pain hanging over her like a weight but until she knew for sure, she still had hope.
The doctor let Michelle settle on a comfy chair then sat on a sofa. ‘Michelle, first of all, let me tell you your father is going to be OK,’ he said.
Michelle nearly wept.
‘He has, however, suffered quite a serious heart attack. We’ve given him some drugs to keep him asleep, to give his body a chance to heal. We’ll know more when he wakes up, but for now, there’s little you can do. He’s stable. You can go and see him if you wish.’
Michelle wanted to see her dad more than anything in the world but she wasn’t prepared for what she saw. Even though she knew he’d be asleep and she was expecting some wires and tubes, she hadn’t expected to see him looking so weak. His skin seemed to look gray and he looked smaller in some way. She crossed the room and put her hand on his. She’d never really thought of her dad as getting older but now he looked so frail. The tears came, she couldn’t stop them now. Whether it was the relief of knowing he was still alive or the shock of seeing him so broken. Her father had always been such a strong man and she realized that his recovery was going to take some time.
Michelle pulled over a chair so she could sit by his side and she laid her head on his shoulder and reached her arm over him. She hugged him and let the tears flow. The world outside this tiny room didn’t exist to her anymore; there was only Michelle and her dad. She cried until there was nothing left to cry and then she fell asleep, still clinging to her father’s side.
TWENTY
Joshua sat at his desk, reading from his computer screen. There were no windows in his office and the glow from the screen lit his face casting shadows in all the wrong places. He looked angry. He was angry. A timid knock at the door told him there was more bad news on the way.
‘Come,’ he said.
The messenger entered the room and stood, shifted his weight, trying to gauge the situation. Was he going to get shouted at or have his head ripped off? You never could tell with Joshua.
‘Sir, we have a problem,’ he said.
Joshua looked up. And the look told the messenger it was head-ripping time. ‘What now?’ he said.
‘Sir, our patsy seems to be off the hook.’
Joshua stared. His cold blue eyes penetrated his subordinate and he thought he saw him shiver. ‘Our patsy,’ he said, ‘is supposed to be dead.’
‘It’s worse now sir. I’m afraid there are some loose ends.’
‘Mr. Sanders is proving to be more of a problem than I had anticipated.’ Joshua didn’t need the briefing. In fact he’d known about the failed killing, he’d known about the alibi and Chris’s release long before his underlings had gotten the balls to come and deliver the bad news. It was time to try something different. ‘Get out,’ he said. ‘I’ll deal with Mr. Sanders personally.’
Joshua decided it was time to get rid of Chris Sanders by using the thing he cared about most. If he was smart, he could even get Chris to help him get through some of the problems he was having with his own little project. After all, it would be a shame to remove such a brilliant mind from the world without squeezing it a little first.
Michelle woke with a stiff neck. She’d fallen asleep with her arm draped over her dad. She blinked and rubbed her eyes and sat upright, moving slowly so as not to pull her neck any more. Her mouth was dry and tasted bad. The voice from behind made her jump.
‘I didn’t want to wake you,’ said Chris.
Michelle jumped up, pushing the chair back and threw her arms around him. He held her tightly and they kissed. Small kisses full of love. She forgot all about her aches and she clung to Chris and kissed him over and over. Finally, she stopped and put her head against Chris’s shoulder.
‘How’s the old man?’ asked Chris.
‘He’s sick Chris. Really sick, but he’s going to live.’
Chris pushed Michelle back with his hands on her shoulders and looked at her. He saw a world of hurt in those tired eyes. ‘How are you?’ he asked.
She didn’t need to answer to tell him how she was, he could see her pain. ‘I’m fine,’ she lied.
‘I’m sorry about this,’ he said. ‘Thank you for not giving up on me. I don’t know where I’d be right now without you.’
Michelle hugged him. She didn’t want to let go ever again.
They found the doctor and talked about Bob’s condition and then decided they should go and eat breakfast. Chris bought coffee and english muffins and a fruit salad for Michelle. He told her what had happened to him and what Naylor had said, but decided to leave out the attempt on his life. He didn’t want to scare her any more right now.
‘Naylor thinks this isn’t over,’ he said.
‘I don’t understand. Is he still trying to pin this on you?’
Chris decided that it was better if she knew. ‘He thinks I’m in danger, that we’re both in danger,’ he said.
‘In danger? The only danger you were in was getting locked up by that asshole Naylor.’
Chris smiled. Michelle was cute when she was angry but she could also be a formidable force. ‘Hey, go easy on him,’ he said. ‘He was just doing his job.’
He watched Michelle nibble her fruit and took a long drink of coffee.
‘Naylor thinks the evidence against me was too strong to be coincidental. He thinks I was set up.’
‘What do you think?’ asked Michelle.
‘I don’t know what to think. Some of the emails on my computer were fakes. I thought that maybe Jasmine had planted them there, you know to try and break up our marriage or something.’
‘Why would she do that?’ asked Michelle. Chris thought he saw a look of anger cross her face, just fleetingly. He wondered just how damaging this whole thing had been to her faith in him.
‘You know I love you, don’t you?’ he asked.
Michelle didn’t answer straight away but took her time and thought about it. Chris was OK with that. He’d rather she gave an honest answer, carefully considered, than fire off some platitude. Michelle reached for Chris’s hand and looked at him.
‘Chris,’ she said, ‘I love you. I believe in you and that’s why you’re here. Everyone else thought you were a lying murdering bastard.’
Chris smiled. ‘I love you too honey,’ he said. ‘It seems to me that Jasmine had somehow gotten mixed up in something very dangerous and it got her kil
led.’
‘Whatever’s going on here Chris, you need to leave this to the police to sort out. Promise me?’
‘Don’t worry, I’ve had enough attention from the police to last a lifetime.’
Chris and Michelle finished their breakfasts and went back to check on Bob. He was still asleep.
‘I’m going back to work,’ said Chris. ‘I need to check on something. Are you going to be OK?’
‘I’ll be fine,’ said Michelle. ‘Hurry back.’
TWENTY-ONE
Michelle went back to her dad’s room and waited. There was still no change in his condition, but the doctor had said that he should be waking any time now. She knew he’d been lucky. The paramedics had gotten to him within twenty minutes of his heart attack and were able to stop his heart and restore a normal rhythm. An injection of a clot-dissolving agent was administered on the scene and when he’d arrived at the hospital, he’d been given an angioplasty procedure where a stent was left in his coronary artery, increasing the blood flow and hopefully preventing future blockages. She looked at the bandage that covered the tiny incision made in his wrist. It wasn’t clear whether any lasting damage had been done or how serious it would be. Time would tell and Michelle knew that she needed to take things one step at a time. He’d probably need to take blood-thinning drugs for the rest of his life. She was just happy to have him around.