Ashes Of America

by Fergus McNeill

  She seemed genuinely terrified by the suggestion... but he hadn't expected her to admit it.

  ‘Why should I believe anything you say?’

  ‘Because it’s the truth!’ she pleaded. ‘I didn’t kill anyone.’

  Frank scowled, allowing a cold edge to creep into his voice.

  ‘So you got your friend to do the killing, is that it?’

  ‘No!’ Faye sobbed, staring up at him in fear. ‘Oh God, no!’

  ‘I’d be careful about taking the Lord’s name in vain,’ Frank warned her. ‘You may be about to meet him.’

  Faye took a ragged breath.

  ‘I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.’ She blinked, trying to see through the tears. ‘He said nobody would get hurt, that it was just a way of keeping someone in line, that’s what he told me…’

  ‘That’s what who told you?’

  But Faye’s head had dropped, and her shoulders were shaking.

  Frank pulled her close, sliding the barrel of the gun up to her throat.

  ‘Who?’ he demanded.

  Faye lifted her face to him, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  ‘Ellis,’ she whispered.

  ‘Ellis who?’

  Faye tried to turn away again.

  ‘I don’t know…’

  ‘TELL ME WHO HE IS!’

  ‘I don’t know…’

  She sagged, as though she was about to collapse, but with his arm linked through hers he jerked her upright.

  ‘Listen to me,’ he hissed. ‘Is Ellis a short guy, grey hair, a bit overweight?’

  For a moment, Faye didn’t respond. Then she slowly shook her head.

  ‘No,’ she sniffed. ‘He’s about six foot… dark hair and skinny…’

  The thin man.

  He bowed his head close to hers, speaking softly.

  ‘Who is he, Faye?’

  Faye looked up at him, wretchedly.

  ‘I swear I don’t know,’ she said. ‘But he’s the one who killed that cop, not me.’

  Frank relaxed his grip on her just a little, and she slumped away from him, sobbing quietly.

  It looked as if he’d been right about the thin man being the killer, but he felt less sure about Faye. What was her part in all of this?

  A noise somewhere behind them made him twist around. A small man in overalls was crunching along the gravel path towards the grave.

  Frank grabbed Faye’s arm.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, dragging her towards a small gate that opened out onto the street. ‘We’re gonna go someplace we can be alone.’

  31

  Frank lifted his foot off the gas and turned, bumping the Oldsmobile down the narrow alley that ran along the side of the hotel. He pulled up in the empty lot at the back of the building, switched the engine off, then glanced across at Faye.

  ‘We're here,’ he told her.

  She sat there, unresponsive, head bowed so that her hair spilled forward to hide her face.

  ‘I said, we're here.’

  Her head snapped up and she jerked herself away from him, suddenly a desperate blur of movement. Clawing at the handle, she fought to wriggle free as the door swung open, but he managed to catch her arm, hauling her back down onto the seat.

  ‘Don’t!’ he snarled, showing her the .45 gripped tightly in his left hand, aimed across his body. ‘You wouldn’t get ten feet away.’

  She stared at the gun, then at him, and the last of the fight drained out of her. As he gently relaxed his grip on her arm, she seemed to shrink, shoulders drooping, face slackening into a numb expression.

  Frank twisted round in his seat to look at her. What the hell had happened in that room in Neosho? What was her part in all this? And who was Ellis?

  ‘Let me lay it out for you,’ he said. ‘You’re gonna give me everything I want. Everything. Your one chance to make it through this is to do exactly what I say. Is that fucking clear?’

  She flinched as he swore, but managed to nod her head slightly.

  Frank held her gaze for a moment, seeing the fear in her eyes, then turned his head away.

  He’d seen that look before, years ago, and still hated himself for the memory of it.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, speaking more gently. ‘Now, we’re gonna get out, and we’re gonna go into the hotel, arm in arm.’

  Without taking his eyes off her, he reached back and opened his door, pushing it wide, then slid his leg over and lowered a foot to the ground.

  ‘Out you get,’ he said, gesturing with the gun. ‘Nice and easy.’

  Faye slowly raised her head and blinked at him, makeup streaked below her eyes, then slid her legs across the seat and got out on the far side.

  Frank put on his hat and glanced around. The lot was enclosed on all sides by buildings: high walls and locked back doors. As long as he kept himself between her and the alley there was nowhere for her to run. Satisfied, he walked slowly around the car, nudging her door closed and linking his arm through hers. She offered no resistance.

  ‘Just remember, you can't go to the cops, and nobody's gonna help you.’ He searched her face, waiting for a response. ‘Got that?’

  Faye stared straight ahead, then nodded slowly.

  ‘Good.’ Frank took a final glance round at the overlooking windows. ‘Let’s go.’

  They followed the alley back to the street, then went along the front of the hotel to the main entrance, Faye drifting at his side like a sleepwalker. Guiding her up the broad steps, Frank slipped the gun inside his jacket, but made sure she understood it was still there, still aimed at her.

  Pushing the glass doors open, he led her into the lobby. Ahead of them, the young man on the desk glanced up, taking an uncomfortably long look at Faye and her smudged makeup. Frank caught his eye, then winked. The young man quickly lowered his gaze, a knowing smile spreading across his face.

  That's right... just another lonely out-of-towner, taking some poor working-girl up to his room. Nothing memorable, nothing to be concerned about...

  Holding her arm, Frank guided Faye across the lobby and up the stairs.

  She seemed to become more alert as he led her along the dimly-lit corridor, half turning her head to peer behind them, pulling back a little as they came to the room.

  ‘Don't.’ He gave her a warning look, then slowly slipped his arm free of hers, so he could reach for the key without holstering his gun. Opening the door, he gestured for her to go first. She hesitated for a moment, as though trying to think of an alternative, then her shoulders dropped and she wearily went inside. Frank hung back for a second, glancing back along the empty corridor, then followed her into the room and pushed the door shut.

  She was standing at the foot of the bed, a forlorn figure, half-silhouetted against the light of the window. The sight troubled him. Frowning, he turned away to lock the door, then took off his jacket and hat, and hung them up.

  ‘Might as well make yourself comfortable,’ he said, over his shoulder. ‘We’re gonna be here for a while.’

  He slid the clip out of his .45, checked it, then slotted it back into the grip. She flinched at the sound, turning towards him with a startled expression, then she seemed to wilt again, sitting down on the edge of the bed and staring at the floor.

  Frank watched her.

  Was she really as resigned as she looked, or might she still try and run? His handcuffs were clipped to the belt of his uniform pants back in Joplin, but he wouldn’t have had the heart to restrain her anyway. She was frightened enough without that.

  He walked slowly over to the nightstand, set his gun down and picked up the half-empty bottle of bourbon.

  ‘You want a drink?’ he asked her, pulling the cork out.

  She glanced round at him, then shook her head.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Sure? You look like you could use it.’

  She didn’t answer. Frank shrugged, then lifted the bottle to his mouth and tipped it up, knocking back a good measure, feeling the heat of it going down.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he walked slowly to the corner of the bed and stared down at her. It was time for her to talk.

  ‘Well?’ he asked, expectantly.

  Her gaze flickered up to his, then she gave an unhappy sigh and lifted a hand to her throat.

  ‘Just don’t rip my clothes, okay?’ She lowered her eyes and began to unbutton the front of her dress. ‘I won’t fight.’

  Surprised, Frank recoiled from her.

  ‘Hey… hey!’ He waited until she glanced up at him, then gave her a stern shake of his head. ‘I don’t know what you think this is, but that’s not why I brought you here.’

  Faye’s expression became confused.

  ‘I thought…’ She trailed off and fell silent.

  Frank shook his head again, wondering what sort of company she must have been keeping for her to think like that. He took another slug of bourbon, then pushed his hand through his hair.

  ‘I brought you here to talk,’ he explained.

  ‘To talk?’ Faye frowned, twisting her body round and gazing up at him, as though trying to read something in his eyes.

  ‘To talk,’ he said, firmly.

  Faye stared at him.

  ‘Who are you?’ she asked.

  He moved over to lean his back against the wall.

  ‘My name’s Frank Rye.’

  Faye’s eyes grew wide.

  ‘You’re Frank Rye? But…’ She sank back onto the bed in bewilderment.

  Frank gave her a chilly little smile.

  ‘Remember the guy you took to your place, down in Neosho?’ he said. ‘The cop?’

  ‘I… I thought…’

  ‘You thought he was me?’

  Faye’s expression became fearful again, and she shrank back from him a little, then nodded.

  Frank sighed.

  ‘We had… one or two things in common… but no. That guy you met? That was a guy called Pete Barnes.’

  Faye turned away from him slightly, frowning as she tried to take it all in. Frank watched her for a moment, then pushed himself away from the wall to stand upright.

  ‘So what happened?’ he asked. ‘You say you didn’t kill him, but he still wound up dead in your room.’

  Faye raised her head.

  ‘I didn’t kill him!’ she insisted. ‘And I swear I didn’t know Ellis was going to.’

  She was starting to sound desperate, with a rising note of panic in her voice. Maybe he’d ridden her a little too hard. He had to back off a bit, keep her focused.

  ‘Start at the beginning,’ he told her. ‘Where exactly did you meet Pete?’

  Faye regarded him with suspicion for a moment, then appeared to relax slightly.

  ‘I met him outside the Skordeno factory,’ she explained.

  ‘Outside?’ he asked.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Okay,’ Frank shrugged. ‘But did you ever work there? Or know anyone there?’

  ‘No. I was just supposed to wait at the front gate for a cop called Frank Rye, then ask him back to my place to collect some letters.’

  Frank remembered the message: “Several letters, of a sensitive nature, relating to that poor mill owner… when would Officer Rye be free to come down and collect them?”

  Someone had asked for him by name.

  ‘You still have those letters?’ he asked.

  ‘There weren’t any letters,’ she explained. ‘It was just a story, an excuse to get him back to my place.’

  Frank scowled.

  ‘Where Ellis would be waiting, right?’

  Faye gave him an unhappy look.

  ‘I didn’t know what he was going to do!’ she protested.

  ‘No?’ Frank goaded her. ‘What did you think was gonna happen?’

  Faye lowered her eyes.

  ‘I was supposed to invite the cop upstairs and… you know… be friendly with him.’

  Frank paused.

  ‘How friendly?’ he asked.

  Faye blushed and stared at the floor.

  Frank sighed.

  ‘Okay, but why?’

  ‘Ellis had it all figured out,’ Faye explained. ‘He was going to bust in on us and threaten to make trouble for the cop if he didn’t do what Ellis wanted. Nobody was supposed to get hurt.’

  Frank looked at her doubtfully.

  ‘So you’re saying it was some kind of blackmail plan?’

  This didn’t sound right. It should have been him in that room, not Pete. Unlike Pete, he wasn’t married and Faye was old enough to be legal… but of course, blackmail wasn’t really what the thin man had in mind.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, Faye nodded, miserably.

  ‘I swear I didn’t think anyone was gonna get killed,’ she said.

  ‘But…’ Frank looked at her. ‘Why would you agree to… do that with some cop you’d never met?’

  Faye lifted her face and he saw her eyes were glistening with tears once more.

  ‘I got in trouble with some… bad people,’ she said quietly. ‘This… this was supposed to make it right.’

  Frank studied her for a moment, then took another shot of bourbon. Ever since that moment in the churchyard – with her desperate denial, and her insistence that it was just a way of keeping someone in line – he’d had an uneasy feeling about her, that maybe she wasn’t involved the way he’d thought she was. Now it looked as if she was just another mark – not exactly innocent, but a long way from being guilty – caught up in something she didn’t even understand.

  But she was still his only link to the thin man.

  He rubbed his eyes.

  ‘So you met Pete and he drove you back to your place. Then what?’

  ‘We went upstairs.’

  ‘He didn’t ask you for the letters?’

  Faye looked at the floor and said nothing.

  Frank sighed.

  Pete must have stopped thinking with his head by that stage.

  ‘Go on,’ he told her.

  Faye swallowed hard, as if she was gathering her courage.

  ‘When Ellis did bust in on us, that’s when I knew something was wrong,’ she explained. ‘He was carrying a bat, and he had this look on his face, like nothing I ever saw before. He didn’t say anything, just smiled this awful smile…’

  She broke off and shivered.

  ‘What did Pete do?’ Frank asked.

  ‘The cop?’ Faye’s eyes were glassy as she relived the moment. ‘He tried to protect me, put himself between me and Ellis… but he didn’t have his gun on him by then. So when Ellis started swinging the bat… well, he just yelled for me to get out.’

  Frank shook his head.

  Poor old Pete, valiantly trying to protect the woman who’d lured him to his death.

  ‘What did you do?’ he asked.

  ‘I just ran.’

  ‘Ran where?’

  Faye glanced up at him.

  ‘I hid. There’s a bathroom at the end of corridor and I went in there and locked the door.’

  ‘But why hide?’ he said. ‘Why not get the hell out of there?’

  Faye blushed, looking down again.

  ‘I… I wasn’t dressed,’ she admitted.

  Frank nodded thoughtfully.

  That’s why she’d gone back to the room afterwards. She needed her clothes.

  ‘How long were you hiding there?’ he asked.

  Faye considered this.

  ‘I don’t know… five minutes, maybe ten? I heard Ellis leaving, and then I heard Mr Furnier, the old man who lives in the apartment underneath – he called out and came up to see what was going on. I guess he took a look in my room, then went to get help. I know I heard him going down the stairs pretty fast. Well, pretty fast for him.’

  It all fitted together… she might just be telling the truth.

  ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Then what?’

  ‘Well, when it was quiet, I opened the door and went back along the corridor to my room…’

  She trailed off, a faraway loo
k in her eyes.

  ‘Go on,’ Frank urged her.

  ‘He was dead, lying there on the floor… it was…’ Faye shook her head. ‘It was just awful.’

  Frank turned away. He could still see the interior of the room, Pete’s body, broken and bloodied, the whole sickening aftermath.

  ‘Tell me what happened then,’ he said softly.

  Faye bowed her head and took a breath, composing herself.

  ‘I got dressed,’ she said, shrugging slightly. ‘Then I grabbed what I could, and got out. There was nobody downstairs, so when I made it out onto the sidewalk I just… started walking.’

  Frank frowned.

  ‘But you didn’t go to the cops.’

  Faye’s head jerked up.

  ‘Of course not!’ she snapped. ‘The dead guy was a cop! And those people I owe, Ellis’ people, they don’t like it when someone calls the cops.’

  Frank weighed the bourbon bottle in his hand, then turned and set it down on the dresser.

  ‘Tell me about Ellis,’ he said, pacing slowly towards the window. ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Faye replied. ‘I didn’t want anything more to do with him. That look in his eyes when he started swinging the bat…’

  Frank looked round at her.

  ‘How do you know him?’ he asked.

  ‘I didn’t know him,’ Faye explained. ‘I just got a call from a friend in Kansas City. We… we worked for the same guy, and she said he wanted to talk to me about something. When I called him, he only told me I had to telephone Joplin Police Department, and what I had to say to them… you know, about the letters. It didn’t sound so bad.’

  She paused and her face darkened.

  ‘I didn’t meet Ellis till the next day. He showed up early and told me… you know… what else I had to do.’ She lowered her eyes. ‘I didn’t want to but… well, I figured it was just one time, and it wouldn’t be so bad if it meant I was free of them.’

  Frank turned back to the window in disgust.

  ‘Yeah, not so bad,’ he growled, staring down at the street below. ‘Except you and your friend Ellis killed the wrong guy.’

  Behind him, Faye stirred.

  ‘You think I wanted any of this?’ she said angrily.

  Frank rested his forehead against the glass and closed his eyes.

  ‘I think Pete’s dead,’ he muttered. ‘And you sure played your part.’