by ML Gardner
“You said you had some questions about Daniel?” she asked as she sat across from me. Her face showed concern now. I asked her about it and she confided that she couldn’t say anything in front of her boyfriend.
“I take it you haven’t heard from Daniel in the last few months?”
“I haven’t heard from him since I was in your office reporting him missing.” Her voice dropped with an ominous tone. “You haven’t, you know, found him, have you?”
“He hasn’t turned up dead, if that’s what you mean.”
She looked relieved. I had gotten pretty good at reading people and she didn’t seem like someone who was hiding anything. She had moved on, but was still concerned.
“Tell me about the time Daniel was forging checks.”
“That was before we were together. While I was with him he got busted for running booze and breaking into an old lady’s house on the south side.”
“Right. Do you know the names of any family or friends he might have in the area?” I pulled my notebook out, pen at the ready.
“Friends? No. Daniel didn’t have friends. He saw them as a liability. He knew everyone and everyone knew him. But he didn’t consider any of them friends.”
“Except you,” I said, raising my eyebrow.
“Yeah, except me.”
“Why is that?”
“Everyone gets lonely,” she said.
“And no family?”
“Not around here. Never talked about his parents. I couldn’t even tell you if he has some. He has a sister back in New York. Real high falutin’ party girl, living the high life. At least that’s what he said. I never met her.”
“Do you remember her name?”
“Oh, yeah. Her name sounds as fancy as the life she lives. Arianna.”
“Bellamy? Or is she married.”
“Daniel said she was married but I don’t recall his name. They didn’t write. Bad blood and all that.”
“Why was there bad blood?”
“Because Arianna struck gold when she got married and never wanted for a thing after that. It always made Daniel mad that she just left him behind, left her whole family behind to live the privileged life.”
I nodded, making notes. “When’s the last he heard from her?” Regardless of the fancy life Daniel said she lived, after the blood that ran in the streets last October, she may, or may not, still be living that life. Regardless, it was a place to start.
“I have no idea. I never saw letters or anything.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me?”
“No,” she said hopelessly. “But if you find him, will you tell me? I’d like to know he’s okay.”
“If I find him, I will.”
If you don’t read about it in the papers first.
Sloan woke up to a fresh set of pilfered dishes.
“You got more food,” he said, groggy but impressed.
“I did.”
“This is quite an economical way to travel,” he said as he sat up. “I’d never have thought of it. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame the short spikes into submission.
“Just takes some creativity. And making sure the kitchen is deserted.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sloan said as he sat down at the table with Aryl, groaning against a stiff back.
“I got some coffee. Thought you might be tired of wine or whiskey with breakfast.”
“Technically, it’s dinner. And actually, I’m fine with it. But coffee is a nice change.”
He filled a mug from the decanter and took a big sip.
“Oh, the coffee’s cold, sorry.”
Sloan slowly swallowed. “Thanks for the warning,” he said, shoving the mug away. “I’ll take wine.”
“I found out what day it is.”
“Oh yeah?”
“April 30th. So I guess we have two more days.”
“I suppose we do. If we can manage to wake up before it closes, I’d like to stop by the barber before we get off.” Sloan swiped at his hair. “Care to join me?”
“No,” Aryl said, helping himself to a few spiced sausages. “I like mine longer.”
“Ah. Okay.” Sloan took a muffin, making frequent glances up. “Have you always worn it longer or just…recently?”
“After the crash I didn’t have to keep it so short.”
“I’ll bet that was a relief.”
“It was.”
“I’ve thought about trying it sometime. Don’t know how I’d get away with it, Captain would have a fit if I came in with anything longer than an inch. Seems like a rebellious thing to do. And I don’t know how Maggie would like it.”
“How would you like it, Sloan?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re so worried about what everyone else will think. You shouldn’t. If you want to, do it.”
“Well, I have to at least consider Maggie.”
Aryl shrugged, not caring one way or another.
“Does your wife like it longer?”
“She never said.” Aryl looked up with a blank face. “If she hates it or loves it, she never said anything about it either way.” He was only half lying. He could always tell that she did like it longer and once he didn’t have to wear a suit every day and look respectable, it was one of the perks of poverty. Being able to break an annoying social dress code and give her something to put her fingers in.
“Yours is kind of curly. You can get away with it.”
Sloan noticed he was irritated and before he could change the subject, Aryl sat back.
“Are we really doing this? Talking about hair like a couple of women?”
Sloan sized him up. “This is none of my business, Aryl, but if you’re waiting for me to leave so you can take your medicine, don’t. Because that’s none of my business, either.”
He waited, debating and then grabbed his bag. “I guess I should enjoy relief while I can,” he said, popping the cork.
Sloan didn’t watch him but concentrated on his breakfast. And when he thought about his stomach, he realized he was ravenous. He devoured the muffin and reached for what was left of the sausage. When he looked up, Aryl seemed at peace. No longer irritated, he only looked slightly remorseful as he stabbed at his food.
“I’ve been weaning down, you know. It used to be worse than this.”
“For how long?”
“When I realized who I was. I knew I had to get home and I started taking less. I didn’t want to go home like this. I don’t want to go home like this.”
“When was that, Aryl? When was it that you realized who you were?”
He drew in a deep breath and blew it out.
“I was following Gina. It was raining and I slipped and hit my head on the curb. I don’t think I was out that long. When I woke up, for the very first time where I was seemed more foreign than who I was. I just…knew.”
“Why were you following Gina?”
“We were supposed to be together, I guess. But of course it had to be a secret from Mickey, a secret from everyone. Normally she would stay in the warehouse with me. She knew secret passageways and hiding spots so no one ever found out. Then suddenly she started going home to her flat more than she stayed with me. And suddenly, she wasn’t so interested in games anymore. It was almost like she was annoyed with me. So, I started following her to find out why.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Double Jeopardy
It was raining so hard I could barely see across the street. She held a newspaper over her head as she skipped over puddles. I stayed half a block away from her. I wondered what the hell I was doing. She was going in the direction of her flat but a few blocks before her street she turned away. I could see her squinting, trying to see down the street, looking for someone.
In her scanning she turned my way and I went to jump behind a streetlight. I slipped off the edge of the curb. Both feet went up and I went down, cracking the back of my head. I’m pretty sure I blacked out, if only for a mome
nt. When I opened my eyes, I looked over and saw a car pull off to the side of the road. Gina tossed the newspaper and ducked in.
It sped off and I lay there for a moment with the rain pouring down on my face. And looking up at the raindrops dancing in the light, suddenly I didn’t hear the noise it made and I remembered fishing. I remembered Jon and Caleb and the boats my uncle left me. I remembered that my name was Aryl. And then, as if someone had punched me in the chest, the wind was completely knocked out of me as I remembered Claire.
I sat up slowly, paying no attention to the rain and tried to remember more. I was from Massachusetts. Claire was having a baby. We had a small rented house that she made so homey and warm and I saw Caleb’s face, so scared as the explosion threw us both into the water.
Suddenly one memory after another came, flashing like photographs or a movie being played too quickly. I couldn’t keep up as my mind repopulated with a lifetime of memories. It made my head hurt and it was only a minute before I held my temples and growled, trying to stop the avalanche.
My past merged with my present reality and that made this awakening even more bizarre, blending who I was and who I had become. I managed to get my thoughts to slow down, though I prayed they wouldn’t stop completely. I didn’t want to lose who I was again.
Suddenly I missed everyone so much. People I had forgotten existed until a few moments ago. And if I forgot that they existed all this time, then surely they would think I was dead. I could hardly fathom the idea of my family, my friends all believing I died that day. I ached to hold Claire. I felt the need to run home, right then.
And then I looked down over myself and a horrible realization came over me. I wasn’t the same person that had left them and I knew it. Here I was, sitting in a rain soaked gutter in London, chasing after Gina…Oh, God. Gina. How would I ever explain that to Claire? And my medicine. How would I find that in Rockport? Would I be able to give it up if I went back?
Everyone at home would be the same and here I was, forever damaged and changed. Angry, paranoid, afraid to trust anyone. How disappointed in me would they be? Could I ever be the Aryl that they all knew before this?
The monster inside me eagerly provided an answer.
No. You can’t.
I slowly dragged my green bag off the sidewalk and held it in my lap.
So, you see, it wasn’t as simple as my realizing who I was and setting out to get home. I stood up, rain still peeling off me in sheets. Home felt as foreign and frightening as the warehouse did when I first got there. And since I never came to feel like that place was home, either, I had regained my memories, but was still very much a lost man.
I pulled myself up and continued on to Gina’s. I’d dry off and wait for her there and do what I came out to do amid torrential April showers. Find out why she was suddenly spending so much time away from the warehouse.
I walked with guilt. I didn’t understand myself. Didn’t understand what kept me from selling what medicine I carried with me and booking a ticket home.
The door to Gina’s flat was locked and it took me a minute to get it open.
Her bird squawked at me as I entered. I kicked my shoes off and left most of my clothes in a soggy heap by the door. In her bathroom I found clean towels and dried off, rubbing my skin so hard it was red and stinging. In her closet I found a change of clothes I’d left here a few weeks ago.
Feeling better physically, I wandered in her microscopic kitchen and put on water for tea. Her little yellow bird hopped around the corner and watched me, jumping from foot to foot, tilting its head in curiosity as to what I was doing.
I checked its food and water next to the open cage that sat on the floor. Both were full. Gina’s place was spotless. It felt too clean. Sterile, even. Even if I chose to leave before she got back and cleaned up meticulously after myself, she’d still know I had been here.
But I didn’t leave. I sat with my tea in a plush chair and waited for her in the dark.
I realized that if she were with another man, I didn’t care. I did an hour ago, but that was before I remembered. Confusing and emotional as my memories were, they certainly put everything into perspective when it came to Gina. So why was I still sitting here? I spent over an hour trying to answer that question.
When she came through the door I had planned on standing up and telling her that I remembered who I was and that this was goodbye. I was leaving. I still don’t know why I didn’t do that.
I heard the key working on the other side of the door and stayed in my seat nested in the shadows. She walked in, closed the door, called for her bird and turned, nearly screaming when she saw my figure sitting there.
“It’s me,” I said quickly.
She let out a long aggravated breath.
“What the hell are you doing here, John?”
I almost…almost told her that wasn’t my name.
“I wanted to see you.”
“You could have seen me back at the warehouse.”
“I didn’t think you were coming back. Where were you?”
If I didn’t care, why was I asking? Habit and common sense raged war against each other in my head.
“I had some business to take care of.”
“With who?”
She turned to me quickly. “I don’t answer to you, John. I don’t answer to anyone.”
“I thought we were together.” Purely by habit I reached for my bag. I was late and starting to hurt. And, purely by habit, I continued to press Gina for information.
“Why wouldn’t we be?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Is the water still hot?” she asked, nodding to my tea.
“Probably not.”
She turned to her kitchen, talking to me as she went. “I told you that I have a bit of business I keep away from Mickey. I was tending to it.”
I stayed silent with my eyes in the general direction of the kitchen. She poked her head around the corner. “If you’re thinkin’ I was wi’ someone else, I wasn’t. Not for anything but business anyway.” She ducked away again.
“You know Mickey will kill you if you try to set up competition.”
She snorted. “I’m not, don’t worry.”
“Then why would you have to keep it from Mickey?”
She didn’t answer. It was so quiet I could hear her open the silverware drawer and pull out a spoon.
“Same reason you keep him from knowing about us, right, Gina?”
“That’s different, love.”
“No, it’s not. You know, I think I’m going to leave. I’m done with you. In fact, I’m done with London,” I said, stunning her.
She walked around the corner slowly with tea in hand. “Why?” she asked tentatively.
“I told you, I’m done.”
“But…what about me? What about us, John?”
Being called John was suddenly irritating.
“I just don’t feel like this is working out. Gina, you’re too mysterious. You have secret stuff going on that you won’t even talk to me about. Hell, I never even got an answer to the question I asked you months ago.”
“What question is that, John?”
“Are you one of Mickey’s girls?”
She took a deep breath and sat next to me. I could tell she severely disliked being put on the spot.
“John, Mickey picked me up, dusted me off and gave me a home. He never forced himself on me and he never made me work the streets again. He saw my talent for getting the truth out of people and being persuasive and helped me hone those skills. And I haven’t slept in a dirty bed since. For that, I’m grateful. But things have changed over the last few years.
“You see, Mickey isn’t all that he thinks he is. He isn’t as big, as grand or as dangerous. It’s all an illusion that he believes in and creates as he goes. Really, he’s a small man. Think about it, if he were a big player, a really big player, you think he’d be hiding in a rat infested warehouse, damn near in plain sight?
&nb
sp; “Don’t you think if Scotland Yard was really worried about ‘im, they’d have shut ‘im down by now? He’s nothing, John. He finds scared weak people and makes them think he can help them to be somebody someday, if they serve him long enough.”
She scoffed through gritted teeth. “Hell, even I fell for it for a time. He had me believing that he was going to be one of the biggest, most powerful men in London and I’d be the lucky woman on his arm.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question. Are you his?”
“He thinks so, though he keeps me on a long tether.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that he calls for me when he wants me. Back when I thought I loved ‘im, I’d run every time he said my name. Practically fall at his feet and ask what on earth I could do for ‘im.”
Her eyes narrowed and her jaw set.
“I believe he’d have been happy if I’d called him master. After a while he just didn’t call for me anymore. I knew he never loved me and I figured he’d just moved on to someone else. But then he caught me in a room with one of his men. He was a nice guy who treated me good. We weren’t doing anything but Mickey was sure we were about to. He ripped me out of the room by the hair and killed him.”
She looked down, unable to continue on for a moment. After she regained composure, she cleaned her face of emotion and went on. “That’s when I figured it out that while he didn’t want me anymore, I wasn’t allowed to go elsewhere.”
“And so you decided to show him by being with me behind his back.”
Suddenly she looked as if she would shatter in a million pieces.
“I fell in love wi’ you, John. I didn’t mean to, Lord, I didn’t plan to at all. It was the last thing on my mind. Yes, I wanted just to use you at first, but then I saw how good you were, deep down.” She set her tea aside and took my hands, pressing them together, moving her head in an attempt to get me to look at her. “I don’t know when it happened, or how it happened, but I knew I had to help you.”
“So is that all Gina was about? Games, control and drugs?” Sloan asked.