Insequor

by Richard Murphy

  “You bet,” said Jones, “The area’s clean but I couldn’t get hold of a guest list. I didn’t know there was going to be this many people. Why didn’t you tell me they hadn’t organized their own security here?”

  “Is that an issue?”

  “Security is a joint operation in a situation like this. There’s not even a cop here; nobody told the local police.”

  The two made their way across a red carpet to the car, the driver turning to stand by the open car door.

  “Hey, it’s a new religion. How can you predict attendances?”

  But Jones wasn’t listening. He was looking straight past him. Something was wrong. Daniel turned, and there in front of them holding a gun was the driver. Except it wasn’t their driver.

  “You’re not Jesus!” he said. The gun was shaking violently in his hand. Sweat was trickling from underneath the ill-fitting chauffeur’s hat down past a strip of greasy hair.

  Daniel was suddenly aware that he was stood alone. There was space all around him. His throat dried and he couldn’t speak.

  The man waved the gun again. “You’re not Jesus!”

  He tried to shake his head, but his neck was stiff. It creaked and cracked but wouldn’t shift. He mouthed words but no noise came out.

  Then there was a gunshot. Loud, close, unmistakeable. Both he and the driver started. They looked at each other, both helpless and frightened. Two more shots. Then the man gave a curious whimper, his head tilted and he looked at Daniel, not with anger, but for help.

  The gun rattled as it hit the floor and he crumpled to his knees. His hand went to his chest, bright red blood already blotting through the blue shirt.

  Daniel finally managed to get his breath out. “Please,” he said, his voice a croak. After a moment he could hear shouting. He looked and saw Jones standing ten feet to his side. Down on one knee, his long face sad and his grey hair looking almost white in the sun. The gun was still smoking in his hand, a steely look of distaste on his face. For a few moments the sights trailed the fall of the chauffeur slowly until they were pointing down at the floor. Jones stood up and made his way forward, blanking Daniel and keeping his gun trained on the body.

  The man was dead, but Jones wasn’t taking any chances. “Daniel, there’s two men in another car just around the corner. I want you to follow me now, don’t look back.”

  But he was frozen. He couldn’t turn his head from the man on the floor. Jones grabbed him, his eyes wide. “Keep looking at me.”

  They walked, slowly at first, Daniel’s feet seeming to catch on the floor. Then, he felt Jones’s arm around him; first supporting, then pulling him onward. They reached a corner, the tarmac extending uninterrupted in all directions, a glass brick of an office stretching high above.

  The sun reflected off everything making a haze in front of his eyes. Before he knew it there was a car in front, two men leaping out. They exchanged concerned glances with Jones, Daniel didn’t recognise them. As the three talked, their gazes kept flicking up above at windows, balconies and rooftops then back down to sidewalks.

  After a brief discussion, throughout which Daniel remained frozen, they checked phones and guns. Eventually, Jones signalled for him to get in the car. He did so; it was soft inside and quiet. Jones leaned in, one hand on the roof.

  “We’re going to head back to the plane. Two more cars will join up in about a mile. You good?”

  The other two men sat down in front, both giving him a nod.

  “What happened?” said Daniel.

  “I shot him.”

  “Who was he?”

  Jones pulled himself inside and Daniel budged up. The car started to move and crowds spilled out of the Church of Interstellar Truth and fate; but people didn’t notice them slip past.

  “Left here,” said Jones, to the driver. “It doesn’t matter who he was Daniel, my job was to protect you.”

  “I never thought anyone would want to hurt me.”

  “That’s no longer the case.”

  He sat back in the seat and held his sleeves tightly in both hands. Now that the adrenalin had left his system he felt weak, tired. Part of him wanted to cry. Jones maintained his steady gaze on the road, barking directions over the driver’s shoulder. Daniel just watched the streets and people blur past.

  It wasn’t long before they arrived outside the airport where security waved them through as Jones had called ahead. They drove around the side, past the wagons of fuel and those vehicles that were essentially a set of stairs; out onto the runway which was strangely quiet. A lone freight plane grumbled at them as they sped past toward Daniel’s private jet.

  In the airplane he downed a drink and then settled back to try and sleep. The pilot said it would take two hours to get to their destination. But in his mind, he had already gone there.

  Jones stayed awake. Occasionally he looked over at Daniel, but mostly he stared at the window. The orange sun was setting below the clouds and the windows started to mist. The one-time detective sipped at his drink but didn’t speak. Never once did he look at the gun in his holster on the seat next to him. It was the first time he had fired it as far as Daniel knew. What he couldn’t have known was that Jones prayed it would be the last.

  Chapter 28

  In the months after the shooting Daniel found himself more and more wary of people and situations. He turned down as many interviews and promotions as he could. Money was lost, but his business interests were now rocketing anyway.

  The movie had mushroomed into a trilogy. He got a cut of all the accompanying media and merchandise too. Without lifting a finger, he saw his net worth head into the hundreds of millions. The sheer amount of money he had was hard for him to comprehend. He could have whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it. But when the accompanying boredom turned into isolation, and when he felt depression creeping in he decided it was time to act.

  At first he thought he just needed to busy himself with a new project. So he contacted a few charities and got involved. Donations were made, dinners held and awards distributed. But there was still something missing and pretty soon he got an inkling of what it was. Something the old Daniel would have failed to resolve; but not him.

  It was late afternoon when he arrived at the house. He pressed the buzzer; something he’d often fantasized about but never done. He’d barely had time to look down the leafy street when, within seconds, the door opened and she was there.

  When he looked into Veronica’s eyes golden islands in seas of blackness stared back. Her soft, slender face seemed to shimmer with a white radiance. The shadows of her cheekbones drew the eye to her mouth. Pale, pink lips broke into a smile and immediately he felt a tingle rush over him. This was the stuff.

  “Daniel?”

  He held out his arms in what he hoped was friendly affection as opposed to a crushing desire for human warmth.

  “Veronica.”

  As they hugged, his eyes went past her head into the house. He could see her living room. Modest, but modern. Some clothes on the couch, a big screen TV and an exercise bike near the kitchen. He guessed she was still single; a pizza box on the table next to an empty glass of wine.

  “This is a surprise. How are you? Everybody’s been talking about you here,” she said, bouncing a little and tapping her hands together.

  He nodded, “I’m good. Life is…. different, but I manage. What about you? It’s been, how long now?”

  “About three years since the day it arrived. Remember, there was that fire alarm at work?” She unconsciously twirled her hair. It was magnificent.

  “You still there?”

  “Yes. We moved offices, obviously. Uptown. But I got promoted, I’m Team Leader now. The bad part is I work for Tom, you remember him, right?”

  “Was he the guy that got caught with the intern?”

  “Yep.”

  They both shared a laugh. She looked so happy. Was he being selfish, coming here? What could he offer her except disruption?

  “I t
hought you might like to get a coffee?” Gone was the awkwardness in his voice. Daniel had no time for it. She seemed surprised; was she, inside her mind, running through all manner of eventualities? Perhaps, even, some of the same ones as him.

  “That would be great. I’ll get my purse.” She disappeared around the corner, perhaps two or three steps, and then re-appeared.

  “Shall I drive?”

  He turned and looked at the limo parked down the street. Two security men and a chauffeur, all armed discreetly, were stood next to it. It occurred to him to run off, but then he through better of it.

  “It’s probably easier if we take my car.”

  She took his hand without asking and led him. Surprised, but relieved, he followed her to the limo, waving the chauffeur back so he could help her in. As they set off with a smooth hum from the engine, they both eased back into their seats. He realised they were still holding hands. Veronica noticed too, and she slid hers back onto her lap, making it look like a natural movement as she flattened her dress.

  As they drove into town he scanned the buildings and people. Some were familiar, some were new. The folks all seemed happy enough, still pottering around the same small streets. From behind the mirrored window of the car he took in their faces and thoughts. Ever since he became famous most people tended to stare so it was refreshing to enjoy privacy in so public a place.

  The car cruised along Main Street finally pulling up at ‘Jackie’s Ice Cream Parlour’ where they got out, Daniel swiftly putting on some sunglasses. He held his hand up at the security team to let them know he wanted to be left alone and followed Veronica inside.

  It was as it had always been since about 1955; turquoise blue counters with bold red edging running above a chrome façade just like an old Cadillac. On the walls were pictures of Elvis, Buddy Holly and Marilyn Monroe. But this wasn’t some kitsch modern take – the pictures were really about fifty years old. Upon closer inspection you could see yellowing around the edges, the gilt frames starting to peel and the neon lights blinking intermittently. They grabbed a table and he automatically started browsing the juke box that was perched on the wall.

  A nickel down, Little Richard started to blare out over the speakers; loud enough to raise a few cheery smiles, but not so loud as to drown out conversation.

  “I love this song,” said Veronica and, as ‘Lucille’ blared out, she too looked around taking it all in as if with fresh eyes. “I never thought I’d see you here again.”

  “It’s a place I’ve wanted to come to for a while now. But it’s been hard.”

  She nodded and the two let their heads return to their idle observing. A waitress came up, pink cotton tabard with a white cap, and cast a second glance at Daniel before Veronica caught her gaze. She ordered a couple of coffees and the waitress left, a quizzical look in her eyes.

  “This thing that’s following you, what is it?”

  “Everybody asks me that question.” He adjusted the cuff of his shirt, his palm idly wiping a smudge. “I wish I knew the answer. Nowadays I’ve gotten so used to it I think of it as a part of me; my shadow.”

  Veronica’s eyes slumped in understanding; if she’d been hoping for the big reveal now was the moment she understood she wasn’t going to get it. The waitress placed two cups on the table and then went over to an old couple who had just walked in.

  “And where is your shadow today?” she said, over the top of her coffee.

  He pulled out his phone and flicked to a screen. He placed it on the table and spun it around slowly so she could see a map with a blinking red dot.

  “He’s in the Atlantic, about five thousand feet below sea level.”

  “So I don’t need to rush my coffee?”

  They laughed. A simple laugh, a polite laugh almost, but it felt good. He felt his spine sink back into the plastic chair. At any other time, he would have been uncomfortable, but not today. Not here, not right now.

  “So how have you been?” he said.

  “Busy,” she replied, “the whole department has upsized. We could have done with you!”

  “I never thought I was that important?”

  “Everybody liked you, Daniel.”

  “Did you?”

  She looked down at her coffee, her cheeks suddenly red.

  “We never did make that bike ride,” he said. “I’m here for a few days. How about it?”

  “Yes, that would be…very fine.”

  A sadness crossed her face, just for a split second. She recovered but he’d seen it. “I tried to call, you know? Message you. I could never get through. A couple of times I got one of your assistants but I think they just thought I was another crazy.”

  “It’s been a crazy time. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You’ve been placed in the strangest situation.”

  “That’s what the Vice-President said to me.”

  “Friends in high places, huh?” She smiled, “What do they think it is? Really.”

  “They don’t know, either.”

  “But there must be a theory, right? Everybody has one.”

  “Do they?”

  “Oh, sure. It’s an alien or it’s from another dimension seem to be the most popular ones, but I’m not convinced.”

  “Oh,” he said, and a grin escaped. “So where do you think he’s from?”

  Veronica bit her lip. “Not where, when. I think he’s from the future. Maybe one of your descendants does something bad and he’s been sent here to stop you procreating!” She paused for a second, and then smiled before breaking into a giggle.

  “That’s quite a theory,” he said, scratching his chin. “Sent to stop me having kids? You think he has some kind of infertility ray gun?”

  “The sperminator!” she said, spluttering coffee down her top. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t joke. I saw you on TV; that godawful actress. I hate her films.”

  “Well, it’s a theory and not one of the strangest. The problem is I don’t have any kids.”

  “Not yet you don’t,” she said, with not a trace of sarcasm.

  Chapter 29

  A pale white light, with a hint of blue, lit up Daniel’s face. He was stretched out sideways on the bed, a sheet draped over his hips. A breeze came in through the open window making Veronica turn beside him; he cast a look back over his shoulder but she didn’t wake. His gaze glumly drifted back to the phone in his hands.

  It was morning, but still dark and outside cars started to come to life and drag their owners to work. Daniel could feel a pull too. Looking at the display he realised the phone would be ringing any second; it had just arrived at the outreaches of the Eastern Seaboard.

  Pre-empting the depressing conversation, he turned the phone off and once more the room entered semi-darkness. He swivelled around and sat up, ran his fingers through his hair, scratched his head, stretched, yawned and reached down for his shoes.

  His shirt was still on the floor and he retrieved it along with his pants. A smattering of light came through a gap at the side of the blinds; not enough to wake her, but enough to allow him to get dressed and straighten himself out in the mirror on her table. The face that looked back looked like it had gotten older.

  “Are you leaving?”

  He cast his eyes across as he did up his tie. “I have to go.”

  “Now?” She rolled over to look at him, the white sheet clinging against her breasts.

  “I’m afraid so.” He folded down his collar and sat down beside her. He ran a finger along her temple, pushing back the strands of hair.

  “You could come with me? I’m going to Spain.”

  “For how long?”

  He stared at her face. The skin was so golden and smooth to touch.

  “Fifty-three days,” he said.

  He didn’t look into her eyes, couldn’t. For a moment she said nothing, then, “I can’t, Daniel.”

  He nodded and pulled back another tuft of her hair and stroked her face again. “I know.”

  She sat up,
folded her arms around her knees and smiled at him. “Perhaps, after some time?”

  “Yes, some time.”

  He bent down and kissed her, their lips sticking together for the briefest moment as they pulled away. Her face longed for him and it made him smile.

  He got up and walked to the door, opened it but didn’t move. “I want you to know I’ll be back.”

  “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  He breathed deep and then walked outside to where the birds were singing. For a few moments he stood on her doorstep eyes closed against the morning sun but feeling it touch his face. Opening them he saw that a team had already assembled at the end of the driveway. The lead security officer had his finger in his ear, listening to a distant control agent. He spent a last few peaceful moments on the doorstep, before heading to the car. Inside, surprisingly, Mr Davis was waiting, sat upright and stiff; which was almost impossible in the back of this limo.

  “Good morning,” he said, producing a tablet. “I’ve got the itinerary here if you’d care to look at it.”

  Daniel reached forward and found his coffee waiting in a paper cup. “Just email it over, please. I’ll look at it on the way to the coast. How long have you guys been here?”

  As they set off he was thrown back into his seat, nearly sending coffee all over himself; Davis rocked slightly but remained upright.

  “Just a few moments. As agreed we gave you plenty of space and I had the team stay at a little motel just out of town.”

  He looked across at Davis. His awkward poise and rigid shoulders, the eyes darting across the landscape outside. Toby’s assistant was quite the opposite to the calm and controlled government agent; the man who could rustle up a helicopter with a text message or have an infantry division arrive within the hour with just one phone call.

  “So what are we hoping to get out of this, Mr Davis?” said Daniel.

  “By ‘this’ I assume you’re referring to our operation in Florida?”

  “Of course.”

  “I can’t really convey all the objectives, Toby will be filling you in, but I can say that we’re expecting to pin down some pretty important measurements.”