by Alex Barclay
The rest of the industrial grey walls had been covered with photocopies of the same script, side by side, edges overlapping, layer upon layer.
‘I bet that’s the note,’ said Joe. ‘From Sonja Ruehling. That was his kiss-off.’
Danny shook his head. ‘It is so fucked up … Jesus Christ.’
Joe crouched down and looked under the bed. ‘Wallets,’ he said. He pulled some of them out, looking through them at the faces of the unchosen victims. ‘If they only fucking knew.’
‘And upstairs, you had this beautiful shiny home? Jesus Christ,’ said Danny.
‘You never know, do you?’ said Joe. ‘What shit people hide beneath the surface.’
‘Where are you, you fucking freak?’ shouted Danny.
Rufo sat at his office with his head in his hands. Joe and Danny knocked and went in.
‘I’m in shock here,’ said Rufo. ‘I can’t believe Bobby.’
‘I know,’ said Joe. He looked down. ‘He probably went there because I was giving him a hard time, wanted to check it out before he came to me with the information …’
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ said Rufo gently. ‘Where we at now?’
‘We’ve found Blake’s fucking dungeon, but no-one in it,’ said Joe. ‘Stanley Frayte’s home has been searched and nothing’s come up so far. No sightings of Mary.’
‘All we can hope is that Blake does something to draw attention to himself,’ said Rufo. ‘Our first contact with him was because he reached out to us.’
‘Yeah,’ said Joe. ‘But I think that was his way of putting himself forward as the exact opposite of what he was, this pathological lying thing. He knew he was good at it. He could get close to us, get off on the whole victim role and maybe find some shit out at the same time.’
Rufo let out a breath.
‘You know Blake was the one who got in touch with Artie Blackwell about that article,’ said Joe.
‘Artie told you that?’ said Danny.
Joe nodded. ‘Yeah. Maybe our near-death experience brought something out in him …’
Cullen rushed into the room. ‘Guys. I’ve found something. I don’t really know what to make of it. But you might want to take a look.’
‘What’s this about?’ said Julia Embry, struggling to pull out the seat opposite Joe in a canteen reeking of disinfectant and vegetables.
Joe helped her with the seat. ‘It’s about your son, Robin.’
She held a hand to her chest. ‘Robin?’
‘I know you never got any answers from that night and the driver was never caught …’
‘Oh my God,’ she said, raising her hand to her mouth. ‘Did you find out who—’
Joe nodded. ‘Yes, I did. And if you want, I can let you know.’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘of course I want to know. Why wouldn’t I—’
‘You could trust me that I know who it is, that this person is not an evil person, that they’re not a danger or—’
‘I’m sorry, detective, I do trust you, you seem like a good person. But you know I’ve never got closure and I need closure and if it’s right here staring me in the face, I’m going to take it. Why wouldn’t I?’
‘Because it’s going to come as a shock—’
‘Who?’ she said. ‘Who did this to Robin? Just tell me.’
‘Stanley Frayte.’
Her eyes registered shock, but her whole face seemed to collapse with sadness and disappointment. Joe could barely look at her. He pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket. He was going to hand it to her, but her head was slumped onto her folded arms on the table and she was sobbing so hard, he could barely move. He tapped her arm lightly and put the handkerchief in front of her.
‘I’m so sorry to have had to tell you,’ he said. ‘But I know you never got closure. I know how hard that is. He may have taken the opportunity to leave because of the police attention. He probably felt we’d figure it out sooner or later.’
Julia shook her head and managed to draw breath long enough to tell Joe it wasn’t his fault. She reached out and dragged the handkerchief towards her, covering her entire face with it, then wiping her eyes and blowing her nose before she looked up at him. She broke down again and it was several minutes before she could speak. Joe sat quietly, looking out the window, listening to the sounds in the parking lot outside.
‘The Christmas lights in the house,’ she said. ‘Were …’ she sobbed, ‘… Robin and I always put them up. Then when Robin died – my husband. But when he left me … it was Stan who helped. He could do that with me and not … how could he do that? Why am I even thinking of Christmas lights right now? That’s the first thing I thought of …’
‘Stanley must have made the decision never to come forward for whatever reason. And then he realized he couldn’t live with that guilt. It takes a split second to decide to keep on driving. And there’s no going back. The next best thing for him was to reach out to you in some other way. I guess that eased his mind. I’m just guessing.’
‘You see all kinds of things in your job. Do you think what he – did not coming forward – was wrong?’
Joe shrugged. ‘Stan made a huge mistake. He had worked hard to get where he was at that time. He was thinking of his own family. He wasn’t thinking—’
‘Of mine. Of me. But he is such a …’ she choked on the words, ‘… kind man.’
‘I don’t doubt that.’
‘How did you know it was him?’
‘When we picked him up for mailing the letters for Mary, I thought we’d got our guy. He looked guilty. And when he was in the interview room, it was like he was relieved. But when we told him why we’d taken him in, he seemed surprised. We knew he wasn’t the killer, but after, I thought maybe there was something else going on with him. I thought it might have been some scam he was working … We checked him out … We reached out to the detectives on the case and they had the last few letters of the truck company’s name that a witness had seen leaving the crime. She’d got one of them wrong …’ He shrugged. ‘We put it together.’
‘Stan was here from the start of the building project – the Clinic,’ said Julia. ‘He offered us rates that I know were below his usual. He was never late. He was polite. He was loyal. He didn’t drink, didn’t do drugs. He had such a good heart.’ She shook her head. ‘How am I supposed to feel about this? What am I supposed to do?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Joe.
‘How did I not see it from him? Nothing. I never got any sense …’
‘I’m no shrink,’ said Joe. ‘I’ve never been to one in my life, but I’d say if you go back and start to think about every incident and every word that passed between you and Stanley Frayte, you might never make it through.’
Julia stared ahead. She nodded. ‘And maybe that would diminish all his good work,’ she said. ‘I’ve already gone over and over my last conversation with Robin and it’s enough to drive anyone crazy. It’s the old cliché – it was a fight. Our last exchange of words was angry. And I can never go back and change that. You’re so used to getting the chance to make up after an argument, that you expect the chance will always be there. The person storms off and you say “fine – go”, knowing you can apologize a little while later.’ She shrugged.
‘I’m sure he felt the same way,’ said Joe. ‘I’m sure he thought he’d be coming back in that door to sort it all out.’
Julia gave a small smile and turned her head to stare out the window.
It was late evening when they got back to the office. The atmosphere was grim. The only thing worse than a stalled investigation was riding a rollercoaster of promising leads to nowhere.
‘Do you know what it is tomorrow?’ said Joe.
‘No,’ said Danny.
‘My surgery.’
Danny laughed. ‘You looking for a way out? You looking for me to say – you can’t go now, you’re too tired or the case will fall apart without you?’
‘That’d be great,’ said Joe.
‘Yeah, well I’m not,’ said Danny. ‘You need this. You want to know it’s an expert who’s drilling into your face, right? Not some student doctor. This is your one chance.’
Joe bowed his head. ‘Drilling into my face …’
‘Yeah, well that’s what it is.’
Joe sighed. ‘So do I go or not?’
‘Go,’ said Danny. ‘You’re off work a day. We’ll survive without you. You can have a rest.’
‘Who the fuck rests in a hospital, I’d like to know.’
‘Well, whatever.’
Joe stood up. ‘OK. OK. I’ll go home, catch a few hours sleep, then I guess I’m going in.’
Danny stood up and reached out his hand. ‘Don’t worry. We got things under control.’
‘OK. Let me know.’
‘Man, I want to wish you the very best of luck with the operation.’
Joe paused. ‘Thank you.’
‘Any last words?’ said Danny.
‘Very and fucking and funny.’
‘I’ll store them up for you,’ said Danny.
‘Right,’ said Joe.
‘Right,’ said Danny. ‘I’ll see you …’
‘The day after tomorrow.’
‘Are you really—’
‘Yes I am. Shut the fuck up.’
‘I’ll call Anna for the update.’
‘OK.’
‘You’re DNR, right?’
THIRTY
‘Detective Lucchesi?’ A tall thin man walked into the ward. ‘I’m Dr Branfield, I’ll be carrying out your procedure this morning.’
‘How you doing, Doctor?’ said Joe.
Branfield smiled. ‘Well, I’m fine. Just to reassure you, what’s going to happen is a minor procedure, I’ve performed more than any other surgeon in the U.S., so it’s like a walk in the park for me. And it will be the same for you … if you usually walk lying down and sedated.’
Joe made the effort to smile.
‘You have nothing to worry about,’ said Branfield, ‘it will all be over and done with in about thirty minutes. And before you know it, you’ll be going out of your way to eat steak.’ He walked away. ‘See you in theater.’
Four words Joe thought he would never have to hear in his lifetime. His stomach was empty, but it felt like it weighed a ton. He lay back on the pillow with his arm above his head. What am I doing? His phone beeped. It was a text from Anna: ‘Good luck. We’re all thinking of you! XX’
‘Ready to rock?’ said a bright voice from the doorway.
‘Sure,’ said Joe, against every single impulse in his body and mind.
He found himself on a gurney, staring up at the ceiling, watching the lights fly overhead as he was being wheeled in for his anaesthetic. The male nurse guiding him along was talking at high speed about his cell phone coverage and how bad it was in his new apartment. Joe felt like punching him. His hands were already in fists, tight and rigid by his side. He tried to relax, but something had happened to his breathing, stalling it like a car out of gear. The nurse glanced at him.
‘You’ll be fine,’ he said. ‘Take some deep breaths. Honestly, it will make all the difference. In. Out. In. Out.’
Joe locked eyes with the nurse and realized he was now the only person who could stop him from getting up and running out on the street in a gown. He synched his breathing with him and turned away.
‘Now,’ said the nurse, his voice cheery. ‘It’s all good.’
‘Thanks,’ said Joe.
‘Pardon me?’
‘Uh, thanks.’
‘Oh, not a problem. OK, here we are.’
Joe’s head jerked towards the door. ‘Quick. Great,’ he said.
‘In we go.’
He delivered Joe into the waiting surgical team and said goodbye. Joe didn’t want him to leave. In a corner of the room, a doctor was turning away from the group of theater nurses, laughing. A nurse moved over to Joe and introduced him.
‘This is Dr Graff, your anaesthetist.’
‘Hello,’ said Dr Graff. ‘OK. This is the first step towards you feeling a whole lot better.’ He smiled. ‘But if you’ve made it this far, I guess I’m telling you something you already know.’ He smiled again. ‘OK. I’m going to give you a little something and before you finish counting down from ten to zero, you’ll feel yourself go under …’
But Joe wasn’t thinking about going under. He was thinking about telling somebody something they already knew. Lying on his back, naked and vulnerable, everything started to slot into place. He struggled up from the gurney.
‘It’s OK,’ said the nurse. ‘You’ll be—’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Joe. ‘I gotta go.’
Martinez brought two cups of coffee to Danny’s desk and handed him one.
‘Milk, two sugars,’ he said.
‘God bless your memory,’ said Danny. He glanced at his watch. ‘I’d say Joe is going under round about – now.’
Martinez sat at the edge of the desk.
‘How long’s he gonna be gone?’
‘Just a day or two,’ said Danny.
‘I’d hate to have anything done to my face,’ said Martinez, stroking his jaw. ‘Anyone fucking with you like that. I don’t even get the whole laser eye surgery thing. Totally freaks me out.’
‘Yeah, well I guess Joe’s desperate.’
Danny’s cell phone rang. ‘Yeah?’
‘Get the hell over to the hospital.’
‘Joe?’ said Danny. ‘Holy shit! Aren’t you in surgery? Where are you right now?’
‘Not dressed enough to be standing in a hospital hallway on a payphone,’ said Joe.
‘Have you been administered any medication?’
‘Just hurry the fuck up.’
‘You got clothes there?’
‘No. I’m going to do this one naked. Course I’ve got clothes. I just need to find my room.’
‘I’m on my way. What about your surgery?’ But he didn’t wait for an answer.
The drive through Westchester was familiar to Joe – he had stayed in his father’s house in Rye with Shaun when they came back from Ireland. Today, they were seven miles further from the city in a quiet stretch of countryside, a perfect setting for the second Colt-Embry Clinic. They followed the blacktop road that curved through the half-finished gardens and led to the main building. They walked past the empty reception desk and stopped at a stack of signs, edged in protective cardboard, leaning against the walls. They had yet to be mounted, but showed with a neat black arrow the way to Julia Embry’s office. They knocked, but opened the door without waiting. Julia jumped and half-staggered up from her chair.
‘Where is Mary?’ Joe was shouting.
Julia was pale. She nodded. ‘She’s here. She’s safe.’
‘Do you know how many people are out looking for her?’ said Joe. ‘Are you out of your mind?’
Danny put a steadying hand on Joe’s arm. Joe pulled away from it.
‘No,’ he said. ‘What the fuck is going on here?’
Julia started to cry.
‘No fucking tears,’ said Joe. ‘Quit it with the fucking tears.’
‘Joe, come on,’ said Danny. ‘Calm down.’ He turned to Julia. ‘Mrs Embry, we’re glad Mary is safe.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Where is she?’
‘In the new apartments. I moved her out here early. I couldn’t watch her go through any more. I know she was the one who got in contact with you. And I know you’ve been kind to her. But her life has been turned upside down and I didn’t want her to go through any more. I couldn’t face it.’
‘Is Stan here too?’
‘Yes.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ said Joe.
Julia sat back down in her chair. ‘You have a close family, Detective, I read about you,’ she said. ‘And it’s a different dynamic than when you don’t. Stan, Mary … they can disappear without people paying too much attention. They have no family to panic when they’re gone. How many missing person rep
orts are filed—’
‘Let me stop you right there,’ said Joe. ‘I’m genuinely concerned. Have I come across as someone who thinks human beings are disposable?’
Julia’s face burned. She avoided his stare. ‘I’m sorry. No, no you haven’t.’
‘Thank you,’ said Joe. ‘Because you need to know there are a lot of people in my line of work who care – me, my partner, the entire task force. We care about the people we meet. You think I come in contact with someone like Mary Burig, she disappears and we’re all going to forget about her? Yeah, you might be able to sleep at night knowing she’s safe. But maybe I can’t. Maybe I’ll wake up wondering what I did wrong. What if it was you? How would you feel?’
‘I’m sorry.’
He shook his head. ‘Look, I can’t argue with what you want to do with the clinic,’ said Joe. ‘And what you have done, how many people you’ve helped. There should be a million of these clinics all over the country.’
‘Thank you,’ said Julia. ‘That means a lot.’ Tears welled up in her eyes. ‘I don’t know how I got into this mess – I’m sorry.’ She looked up at him. ‘How did you know?’
‘I see people cry a lot,’ said Joe. ‘I see real tears and fake ones. When I told you about Stan and Robin, I saw real tears. But I knew you were crying for another reason. I got the impression I was telling you something you already knew. Does that make sense? You know sometimes you see people cry at a funeral – and you just get from them that something else is going on. That’s what it’s like.’
She smiled sadly. ‘You’re right. I was crying for something else.’
‘For what?’
‘Because it reminded me yet again that I had a son who wanted to die.’
‘What?’
‘Robin drove straight into Stan’s path.’
‘And you believe that?’ said Joe.
‘Yes. Life was unbearable at home. I knew he wasn’t … well. It was all too much for him. He had attempted suicide before. Stan confirmed what I had suspected.’
‘How did you know about Stan?’ said Joe.
‘He broke down and told me. It was as simple as that. After he had been working for me for years. He said he just couldn’t take the guilt. He said me being nice to him made it worse. He couldn’t just leave, because he knew how important he was to me, but he couldn’t stay because every day, he felt like a fraud.’