An Innocent Man

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An Innocent Man Page 30

by Mark Z. Kammell

unlike the old days. Who was that girl you were stalking? You were fair obsessed with her, if I remember right, in our final year, weren’t you? You used to say it was as if her feet didn’t touch the ground, quite poetic for you, I think. Didn’t you go to her lecture one time, and make a real tit of yourself with her? What was her name, Sylvain, what was her name? Anna, right? Yes, that’s it! Anna Dunnsbury! Of course, I remember now, she was gorgeous, wasn’t she? You remember her, right, Sylvain, of course you do! I wonder what’s happened to her now, I wonder if maybe I could get in touch. Perhaps we could have a late-night meeting in a hotel somewhere, wouldn’t that be lovely. Just me and her and the contents of my bag. Oh, look, is that the time. Think I better be going. Tell you what, Sylvain, for old times’ sake. Tell you what. I’ll make sure someone has a word with our friendly policemen, see if they can’t catch you a break this time. I’d really appreciate if you could go and have a word with our mutual friend Miss Makepeace. Oh, and give my love to Lou.

  Moondance

  Dredd’s final words to me as I left, hurriedly, and re-joined the human race, were See you soon, loser. Not that encouraging, I admit, and even less when I stood on the desolate pavement outside the building that I had been housed in (black brick, no signs or notices or anything giving an indication of what it actually was), in the driving rain, with no one waiting for me outside. Surprised? Yes, of course I was, I still live in constant hope, and somewhere in my mind I was sure that Sylvia knew I was being released, and knew that I would want company, and knew when and where to find me, and I expected to find her black Porsche parked there, waiting for me, a shelter against the rain and the torment of that day. In my mind, I tried to explain to her what had happened – that Mark was alive, that he had come to see me, that I was sure he had killed Angel Marston and, I thought at least, he had threatened me unless I stopped Beryl from trying to find him. Give my love to Lou, he said at the end, Sylvia. That’s what he said, give my love to Lou – as if he was teasing me, as if I knew she’d never believe me and throw it back in my face. What could I do, I didn’t have a choice but to try, so I flipped open my phone and called Sylvia’s number… it rang twice and then went to voicemail, clearly a sign she didn’t want to talk to me and didn’t mind me knowing it.

  Sylvia, hi, look, you couldn’t pick me up, could you, I’m stuck out here and it’s raining and I really need to talk to you. I carried on walking for five minutes and then called her again – straight to voicemail this time. Listen Sylvia, I really need to talk to you. Mark’s alive, I met him! Seriously, honestly, I know this sounds completely crazy but he’s just been to see me in jail, and then I was let go. Sylvia, please, we need to talk!

  I knew I was rushing my words amid the driving sound of the rain and the manic sound of my voice, but I figured Sylvia would at least respond to what I had said, if only to tell me I was mad, out of my mind, toys in the attic. Sylvia didn’t really think I was a killer, surely, she knew me too well, but what if Lou had been talking to her, telling her things, poisoning her mind against me, what if Lou truly believed that I lost control and killed Mark and Angel, what if she wasn’t just doing this to hurt me, and she told Sylvia and now they think I’ve gone off the deep end, what if they really believe it. I stopped on the pavement for a minute, looking up at the grey sky through my wet eyes and wet hair, and allowed the rain to soak my clothes and my body. I started shivering, at first a little and then uncontrollably as I gave myself over to nature as if that was a way out. Who was I, if not husband of Sylvia, friend and confidante of Louise and erstwhile companion of Mark, who was I if I wasn’t defined by these things. I had nothing else, no other real friends – sure, of course, I knew people at work and I had formed some vague relationships, although the only one that may in any way be meaningful was with Justin, and that of course wasn’t helped by his current state (i.e. presumed dead). I looked around me, realising that I must have walked quite far, because the building I had left was nowhere in sight. In fact, nothing was in sight, save the grey sky, the grey rain and the grey fields, and of course the empty road leading from nowhere to nowhere. I actually sat on the pavement, my arms crossed over my knees and my head bowed against the rain, and I closed my eyes and I waited. Somewhere, sometime later, through the cold of my body, I heard something, and eventually I realised that it was my phone ringing. I grabbed it with difficulty – my hands had become numb in the cold rain and the phone kept slipping out of my grip, but still it rang.

  Eventually I got it up to my ear, and then it took me another few tries before I was actually able to answer it and get a Hello? out my trembling lips. I hadn’t checked who it was, that was way too much effort, but when I heard X’s gruff, angry voice and felt the crushing surge of disappointment, I realised, of course, that I had been assuming it was Sylvia.

  Where the hell are you, Jones? he asked, why aren’t you in work? And then I realised that I had absolutely no idea what day or time it was, and so I could only answer with the feeblest of excuses that I wasn’t feeling well, again. X didn’t answer for a moment, but then Yeah, you sound pretty shit, to be honest, Jones. But I need you here. I need my security up to scratch. How did that interview go? Well, I take it? I hear the culprit was dealt with. One of our own. Justin Done. A shame when that happens. I always thought he was a good guy. Shows that you can’t really trust anyone. There was a crash of thunder… Are you outside, Jones… Are you…?

  I don’t know if you’ve ever seen lightning up close before, but I hadn’t. My hair stood on end, and it was as if the sky cleared and everything, for a split second, became very still and tiny, as if we all squeezed into a tennis ball and were looking outside at a huge arc of light that exploded by me and sent shivers dancing right through me, and all the cold and the rain and the dark evaporated in the sense of wonder that I had, that I knew I was being ripped apart and there, then, in front of me, was a girl, standing in the middle of the road, facing me with her head bowed. The rain somehow cast a ghostly light onto her; her long blond hair almost obscured her face, but I could see enough to see her deathly pale skin and eyes that seemed to be on fire. By her side, stood obediently as the girl had her hand on its neck, was a unicorn. I looked, transfixed, as its eyes landed on mine; like the girl’s they appeared to be on fire, but unlike hers they burned with a malign yellow glow as they locked onto me and its whole body stiffened, and I could feel my body tense massively as I prepared for the inevitable charge. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at it, out of fear and of wonder. The girl whispered something in its ear and stroked its mane gently and then she looked back at me, and although she whispered through the rain, I could hear her clearly say Why are you here? What do you want? and I reached out to her because here, I knew, was salvation and here I could say to her I’m on your side, be wary of them, they want you and they want to destroy you, without really knowing even who she was or what I was saying, but I knew then that I was right and, if I did nothing else, I could at least try to save her. She spent a long time looking at me, and then she walked, so slowly, towards me, taking soft steps on the hard ground, the creature staying beside her, close to her as they approached, as they brought fire and warmth to me and the chill and wetness receded, as I found myself enveloped by them and their own. I found myself first getting to my knees and then standing as they approached, and then I could feel my body start to sweat and my clothes start to singe as I stayed there, transfixed by her eyes and by the burning presence of the unicorn until they were both so close to me that I could have touched them, if I had had the courage. And the girl looked curiously at me and the unicorn stepped that last step towards me and raised its head, as its horn came towards me and touched me on the forehead, and the pain was devastating and thrilling and magnificent as the sky exploded and the ground dissolved and my body tore itself apart.

  Well, you know, I’m still alive and maybe I dreamt it, that’s what you may say, I guess, but who knows, maybe I’m completely wrong. What I do know is that I foun
d myself standing outside my flat, the rain had stopped, the sun had broken through the clouds, but my clothes were sodden and dirty and my head felt like it had been in a vice. And Beryl was standing next to me, holding my arm, ushering me into my flat, and then

  What is that mark on your forehead?

  What mark?

  We’re going to have to get rid of these clothes (looking at the muddy, wet, burnt mess that I’d had to peel off). Where the hell have you been, I’ve been trying to get hold of you. I’ve got some information, and I know I said I’d let that crazy girlfriend of yours know first, but I thought I should run it past you first. This guy, Mark Forth, I thought you said he was some corporate lawyer?

  Did I say that, are you sure? I thought he was, I thought I should have known…

  Yeah (Beryl laughed uncomfortably) well he’s not. Take that one from me. He doesn’t work for that company, Arnold whatever. It’s just a front. He’s a hard man to find, and I’m still working on that, but if that gives you any comfort, it means he’s

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