Extremities

by C A Devine

  ‘Ariana. He had to go and saturate the whole of New York in his white dust. He drew too much attention. Inevitable when you get greedy.

  ‘From then on he was a liability, but we really fucked up the damage limitation. So he pulls that little stunt, luring you all to the base in Spain, just to ensure we were all put in the line of fire.

  ‘Now my little stunt out there was a civilian crime, so if you want more get me that lawyer before the MPs show up.’

  *

  ‘Were you reluctant at first, Yolanda?’ Back in interview one, things were much the same. ‘But when Willie explained the consequences of not helping her, you knew you had no choice?’

  ‘Don’t you dare question my sister’s character, Golden Boy. My father walked out when I was six. My mother was in and out of Belleview for psychiatric assessments. Thomas and I were raised by Willie. I owe Willie everything.’

  ‘And you would have done anything for her.’

  ‘Find out how Thomas is.’

  ‘So it’s all about Wilhelmina,’ I said.

  ‘I’m not like your bitch friend; my family are important to me.’ I stared and waited. She took a deep breath, in then out. ‘Find out how Thomas is.’

  I ignored her. ‘Why were my girlfriends targeted?’

  ‘I don’t know anything about that. I didn’t know he was going to kill those women. That was his own thing, justice for his family.’

  ‘Were Siouxsie and Lainey, and Lily and Lisa responsible for what was happening in Afghanistan? How was killing my ex-girlfriends justice for his family?’

  ‘I don’t know. I have no idea. I told you. It was nothing to do with me.’

  ‘You went with me to each of those crime scenes; you know what was done to them.’

  ‘You have no idea what it is like to lose a sister!’ she roared. I fought the urge to cover my ears.

  I let everyone settle a moment.

  ‘Siouxsie, Lainey, Lily, Lisa.’

  ‘Find out how Thomas is and I’ll tell you.’

  *

  I walked into my office, Marcus was still there, still pale – still slumped in the same seat. ‘I’m sorry Marcus.’

  ‘I’ve spent my whole life living a lie and when I finally pluck up the courage to come out and have my first serious relationship, it crashes and burns in catastrophic failure.’ He rubbed his hands over his face, ‘Why didn’t I just stay in my nice comfortable closet? The models never did this to me. They weren’t smart enough.’ I rolled my eyes.

  After a phone call, I stepped into the observation room. Max was sitting on a table, legs swinging, glaring in at Yolanda, ‘Discredit the key, no, the only, witness.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The answer to your question to Yolanda.’

  I smiled, ‘You’re a genius, Watson.’

  ‘You’re not such a bad detective yourself, LT.’

  ‘It’s time to wrap this up. I want to get outta here. We have some celebrating to do.’ On impulse I leaned in and kissed her full firm lips. Then I stepped back and spun quickly from the room.

  I burst back into interview one, ‘He’s in surgery, getting his stomach sewn back up. The surgeon doesn’t see any reason why he won’t come through it, but they’ll update us when he’s in recovery.’ Yolanda breathed out through her nose and sat back with palpable relief. I slid into the chair, ‘You talk now and I’ll be sure to get you that update.’

  She placed her fingers on the table and looked up at me. ‘You’re right, The Baron was a smuggler, and an old-fashioned charming smuggler at that. He was funny and much more likable than you.’ She lifted her arms onto the table and leaned forward. ‘But I guess after the raid in New York, when the whole operation crashed in around them, the new military chief decided even the almighty Baron was becoming too much of a risk. But they fucked up the bombing in Afghanistan, although your friend in there,’ she nodded to the mirror, ‘seems to have taken care of that for them.

  ‘The Baron may have wanted to kill you and your girlfriends. And, well, the torture I’m sure he could have read up on, but those shots were taken at you from a house half a mile away.’ A feline smile crept along her mouth, ‘Your privileged little ass really does need your fancy Mommy and Daddy, because you really are a dumb fuck. A five-year-old would have known it wasn’t The Baron.’

  ‘What? You think I don’t know The Baron couldn’t have taken the shots that took me down!’ I halted my outburst. I hated that she knew how to push my buttons.

  She snorted a laugh. This time we endured a full five minutes silence. ‘Okay, I’m gone; your brother obviously doesn’t mean that much to you after all.’

  I was at the door when she began.

  ‘Sharpshooting, that takes years of military training. The Baron never struck me as the military type,’ she shrugged. ‘You are going to testify against fifteen men, the whole of the New York distribution network,’ she stopped then and I realised I was leaning forward, elbows perched on the table; I could feel my palms sweat, my heart beat ever faster. I was holding on to her every word. She smirked at me and shook her head. I slouched back in my seat and tried to act nonchalant. I knew she wasn’t buying it. I didn’t realise how much it meant to me to hear the story from her own mouth.

  ‘Didn’t you find it surprising that of the fifteen men arrested only one of them blabbed?’

  ‘It took two weeks of continuous effort to break him,’ I said.

  ‘The only reason these guys would keep schtum was if they knew they would not be sailing up to Rikers.’

  ‘Instead they were promised a step up on the measly food chain.’

  Yolanda nodded. ‘With Charlie dead, the whole case rests on your testimony. A second dead cop might only skew the case in favour of the prosecution, but a mad one …’ she let it hang for a moment. ‘The Baron and his military crew may not have any loyalty to these men, but they certainly have no interest in getting caught.’

  ‘So everyone was out to get me, but that doesn’t make them sharpshooters. Get to the point, Yolanda.’

  She sighed, ‘Look all I know for sure is, when Mercer transferred out of sniper school …’ The roar hit my ears, blocking out Yolanda’s voice. I was on my feet; they were dragging me to the door, opening the handle. I was in the corridor, floating past Max with her mouth open, then Mom, then Marcus. Why did they all have their mouths open? Why was there a roaring in my ears? Why was there a gun in my hand?

  The door swung open. Interview two dazzled bright. My arm was outstretched. The safety off.

  Six arms dragged me from the room. I stumbled to the floor. An arm hit me around the head. I blinked. ‘Can you hear me?’ The voice echoed around my skull. ‘Listen to me, New York.’ Max grabbed my shirt, stuck her face in mine. ‘What were we just talking about, Sherlock? Are you going to let them win? That easily? Just because she said he did it, you’ll throw away the last two years of your life. Make it all for nothing.’ I slumped against the wall. ‘You are better than that. You’re stronger than that.’ Was I? I wasn’t so sure. ‘She’s playing you.’

  I huffed out a sigh. ‘You have a responsibility to everyone involved in this operation, living and dead, to get up on that stand tomorrow as a credible witness and shut this whole thing down.’ I stared at her angelic face. I could get past her, get back into the room, pull the trigger and it would all be over. It would all be clocked up to my delusional paranoia. How could anyone stay sane after what I had gone through? He suffers frequent hallucinations, my shrink would say, imagination blurring with reality. I could hear her say it. But I knew what was real; Max was real, always had been. I clicked off the safety, holstered the gun and rubbed my hands over my face. She was right. It was about time I started behaving like I was better than this. I had to finish this.

  Epilogue

  The Trial

  We stood on the midpoint of the epic staircase in front of the New York criminal courthouse, Max and I. My mom stood at the top, her dad at the bottom beside Cecile, Ja
son and a yellow cab waiting to take her away.

  ‘You look good, New York.’

  I was wrapped in a finely tailored Armani suit. ‘I do, don’t I? You don’t look so bad yourself.’ Cecile had appeared that morning armed with a clinging grey dress and a black hat. She looked stunning. ‘Do you have to go?’

  We had spent the evening lounging in front of the huge picture windows in Marcus’ loft. We had finally managed to bundle Marcus into bed after copious amounts of Dom Pérignon. He was celebrating being single again.

  I had watched the city trundle by below: the yellow cabs, the stretch limos, the patrol car. It was a comforting sight. The television droned in the background; The Baron’s legacy unfolding. There were no bombs, no drugs, only body parts and the note.

  ‘I need to go home. I need to see my grandparents.’

  I nodded. ‘Will you come back?’ I didn’t mean to sound so desperate.

  She shrugged, then her mouth wound into a smirk, ‘You never know, I hear someone here might need me.’

  I cringed, ‘You like ribbing me about that, don’t you?’

  ‘No, I just like that,’ she stretched up to me, kissing me softly. She tasted hot, sweet, exotic, like the first time. I felt that familiar heady thrill rush through my body. I held onto the moment as long as I could. Finally she pulled away.

  ‘I killed him.’ We hadn’t talked about it. She had made a huge sacrifice for me. I understood that. ‘And you think I was going to kill you.’ And it would return to haunt her. These things had a tendency to do that. ‘Instead I just stupidly fell in love with you. If I hadn’t, maybe none of this would have ever happened.’

  ‘It wasn’t stupid. I don’t think he wanted to live,’ I said. ‘He could have used me to get away. He could have gotten out to the boat and taken his chances on the river. But he didn’t,’ I left that hanging.

  ‘When I came to Spain, I wasn’t sure what I …’ she trailed off. ‘I couldn’t let him kill you,’ she whispered. ‘We have a lot of past and certainly a lot of baggage now, New York.’

  ‘Well just maybe we’ll have lots of future too.’

  ‘Maybe, New York, maybe.’

  ‘I got you a present.’ I handed it to her.

  ‘A notebook?’

  ‘You should finish the story.’

  ‘You wouldn’t mind me writing about the crash and burn of an eminent NYPD Lieutenant?’

  ‘It looks like it’s all working out in the end,’ I shrugged.

  ‘It would be a good story, what with the love triangle and pirates and all. In fact, I might get the whole thing from your point of view, New York.’

  ‘Anytime, English.’ I tried not to laugh as I said, ‘BTW, we are now in New York.’ I threw my arms out for emphasis, ‘We talked about this.’

  ‘I was giving that subject some thought. Maybe I could call you junior.’

  ‘Don’t even think about it,’ I scowled at her and she broke into a fit of laughter.

  ‘I think I’m going to like your parents.’ She was speaking of the future. It was so good to have her back. ‘Okay … I’ll call you Mac,’ she scowled back at me.

  ‘See, it didn’t choke you,’ I smirked.

  ‘Hmm, fine, but only if you stop calling me English. I’m Scots.’

  ‘I know,’ I laughed and she slapped me on the chest.

  ‘This book I’m going to write, what should I call it?’ The tale of two McKenzies.’ I frowned and shook my head. ‘You don’t like that? Okay. What about Ocean’s Two or The Deep Ocean? Hey I know … oh, this is perfect.’

  ‘What?’ I didn’t like the gleam in her eyes.

  ‘Naked.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh come on, junior.’

  ‘You can’t do it to my mother. Oh God, I just had a thought. You’re not going to write about the sex?’

  ‘Of course I am. That was the best part,’ she beamed.

  I loved this woman.