Pendulum

by Adam Hamdy

  Ash entered the warm pharmacy and immediately felt her body sag with fatigue. The soporific heat of the well-stocked store made her eyes feel heavy and her bones leaden. She longed for the discomfort of the narrow bed in the tiny, dirty room above, but forced herself to load a large wheelie basket with supplies: dressings, antiseptic, painkillers, and anything else that might help the walking wounded. She took her haul to the emo girl at the checkout. Working nights in the Bowery, the girl had probably dealt with more than her fair share of addicts and drunks, and didn’t even give Ash’s dishevelled appearance a second glance. Ash paid her and lifted the large, heavy bag of supplies with her good arm.

  The night receptionist was an acne-ridden Asian teenager who was busy watching something on a tablet and barely registered Ash when she entered the Fresh City Hotel. Ash hurried past as quickly as her aching legs could manage. The stairs were exhausting and she felt like she aged a year with each step. When she eventually emerged from the stairwell, she staggered along the corridor, leaning against the walls for support, before she finally made it to their room. She knocked on the door, but found that it gave at her touch. Adrenalin suddenly pumping, Ash dropped the bag and drew the pistol she’d taken from the skinhead. She ignored the screaming pain coming from her shoulder and entered the room with her gun held in front of her. Despite her exhaustion, her senses were alert, and she could feel her heart pounding thunderously. What if the killer had followed them?

  Ash took a couple of steps forward and peered around the corner to find Wallace lying face down on one of the beds. ‘John?’ she whispered.

  Wallace responded with a gentle snore.

  Ash smiled and shook her head as she lowered her pistol. She returned to the corridor and picked up the bag of supplies, which she dragged inside. She closed and locked the door, and then pushed an old chair in front of it. She thought about cleaning herself up, maybe taking some painkillers, perhaps dressing her wounds, but for all her rational desires, a primal need overtook her; she had to sleep. She staggered over to the second bed, fell on to it, and was asleep a second after her head hit the pillow.

  48

  Wallace was falling through darkness. High above him someone screamed, and he turned to see Connie standing at the edge of a roof, looking down at her bloody torso in dismay. Wallace fell further, until Connie’s eyes were no more than pinpricks in the darkness. Bitterly cold air rushed past him and he heard the sound of his own scream moments before he hit the ground.

  ‘Hey,’ Ash said gently. ‘Are you OK?’

  Wallace opened his eyes and was surprised to find himself in the ghastly hotel room. He had no recollection of their return journey. He looked across the room to see Ash sitting in a chair by the door. She’d tied her wet hair in a loose ponytail and was wearing a clean pair of jeans and a garnet-coloured pullover, and was concentrating on Wallace’s iPad.

  ‘I’ve felt better,’ Wallace croaked. He cleared his throat. ‘Thanks,’ he continued. ‘Thanks for saving my life.’

  Ash smiled. ‘I bought some medical supplies. Painkillers. Bandages. They’re in the bathroom when you’re ready.’

  Wallace nodded his appreciation. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Three.’

  ‘In the afternoon?’ Wallace asked incredulously.

  ‘I’ve been up for an hour,’ Ash told him. ‘I figured I’d let you sleep.’

  ‘You OK?’

  Ash shrugged ruefully. ‘Few cuts and bruises and some fatally wounded pride. I can’t believe I let us get trapped.’

  ‘You followed the evidence,’ Wallace protested.

  ‘I was careless. I let myself believe a lie,’ Ash countered. ‘Leaking my story, telling the world about my childhood had exactly the effect he wanted. It made me so angry I couldn’t think straight. I thought I was being so smart tracking down that email address, asking Pavel to hack into it. All the time, I was playing right into his hands. I should’ve known it would never be that easy. Pendulum isn’t some psycho; he’s smart, and he’s got a plan.’

  Wallace hauled himself off the bed and shuffled over to the bathroom, where he found a large plastic bag loaded with supplies. He rooted around inside until he located a box of Advil, and then scanned the room for a glass.

  ‘You gotta take it straight from the faucet,’ Ash advised.

  Wallace smiled and shook his head. His body protested as he leaned over the dirty sink and pushed his lips close to the cold water tap. He popped a couple of pills into his mouth and washed them down with a swing of worryingly warm water.

  ‘I’m going to take a shower,’ he told Ash, but she was lost in her own world, distracted by whatever she’d found on the iPad.

  The showerhead was clogged with years of green limescale that reduced the flow to a pathetic trickle, but Wallace couldn’t have cared less, as the gentle stream of warm water soothed his skin. It was a simple, pure sensation that reminded him how lucky he was to be alive, and he stood under the shower, his palms flat against the white tiles, his head bowed as though in prayer. A bloom of relief spread out from Wallace’s core and rolled over his body as the Advil started to work. Freed from the relentless clutch of pain, Wallace’s mind turned to his situation, which seemed dire. Pendulum had failed in his latest attempt, but no matter what he did, Wallace could not discern why this man wanted him dead. Ash was right; he did not seem deranged. Whatever his twisted logic, the man seemed extremely intelligent, and the fact that he kept coming back for Wallace suggested that his motivation was personal.

  He stepped out of the shower and dried himself, frustrated that he was still no closer to understanding why he’d been targeted. He pulled on his last clean pair of black jeans and exited the bathroom to find Ash still using his iPad. She looked even more frustrated than him and an air of defeat hung about her. Wallace had seen it before, at the hotel in Connecticut, when she’d been about to give up entirely and reveal their location to her boss.

  ‘You OK?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m pissed,’ Ash replied. ‘At myself,’ she added by way of explanation. ‘The guy is smart enough to have stayed off the radar, and if it hadn’t been for you we wouldn’t have even known he existed. We can lay all these bodies at his door, but we have no idea what links them.’ She looked around the room awkwardly. ‘I wasn’t sure how to tell you this, but he made good on his word,’ she said at last, turning the iPad towards him.

  Wallace was dismayed to see his own face looking back, with Ash’s photograph next to it, at the top of an article which revealed that the two of them were wanted in connection with the murder of Ramon Meza. They were also suspects in a cyber-attack that had disabled the FBI’s New York Field Office.

  ‘According to a Nightfile report, you’re now an official suspect in the Pendulum killings, and I’m wanted as a possible accessory,’ Ash explained.

  Wallace slumped against the wall. He could empathise with Ash’s defeatism. ‘Maybe we should turn ourselves in,’ he suggested morosely.

  Ash shook her head. ‘We do that now, when we have nothing, and it’s over. He will find you and he will kill you. And me, well, with this and the blowback from the Nightfile report, I’ll probably be facing criminal charges. If you’re an official suspect that means the Bureau have swallowed whatever bullshit they’ve been fed and are a million miles from catching this guy. That means we’ve got to find a way to get to him.’

  She fell quiet as her eyes drifted into the distance and her jaw muscles clenched. Wallace could feel her frustration as she tussled with the problem, and the two of them were silent for several minutes.

  ‘The trail led you to Erin Byrne. As far as we know, she was the first victim, before Kye, before Huvane, before you, before any of the others; the killer started with her,’ Ash said eventually. ‘We need to go back. See what we’ve missed, see what the family missed. There has to be something that links her to another victim, or directly to the killer. We need to find that link.’

  ‘You want to try Steven By
rne?’ Wallace asked.

  ‘No,’ Ash replied. ‘Not yet. The killer is resourceful and smart, and he knows more about computers than Pavel.’

  ‘So he’s a suspect? You think Steven Byrne killed his own daughter?’

  ‘I was going down that road. He’s a computer genius and ex-military, so he fits the profile. But then I saw this.’ Ash swiped the iPad to reveal a gossip column article that detailed the comings and goings of a Republican Party fundraiser the previous night. One of the featured guests was Steven Byrne, and his humourless face could be found in numerous photographs of the event. ‘I reckon at least two hundred people would be able to give him an alibi for last night, and he was at public events during at least two of the other murders. No, it’s not Byrne, but it might be someone from his world. An employee or maybe a rival.’

  ‘Why would someone with a grudge against Byrne start murdering people like me?’ Wallace challenged.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Ash admitted. ‘None of this makes any sense. But I’ve worked serial killers before, and however twisted they might be, they always have a rationale. We just can’t see it yet. One thing occurs to me: if Pendulum is from Byrne’s world, the mother is more likely to give him up to us. From what I’ve read, there’s no love lost between Mr and Mrs Byrne. I’m guessing she blamed him for Erin’s death, and we can use that animosity to pump her for all the information she’s got. Some piece of evidence she probably doesn’t even know she has.’

  Wallace hesitated. As grim as it was, the hotel room was a safe haven, and the world beyond offered nothing but danger, pain and death.

  ‘We can’t just sit here,’ Ash cautioned, as though reading his thoughts. ‘If the mother doesn’t give us anything, we’ll try Byrne senior. Something links their daughter, either to another victim or directly to the killer.’

  ‘OK,’ Wallace said with a decisive nod. ‘I’m in.’

  49

  It was shortly after four when they arrived at the tower that housed Canopy. Ash flashed her identification at the security guard to gain access to the elevators, and she and Wallace rode up to the thirty-second floor. The receptionist recognised them the moment they entered the Canopy lobby.

  ‘Make that call, and I’ll arrest you for obstruction,’ Ash called out to the receptionist, who had started to lift a phone to her ear.

  The frightened woman replaced the receiver.

  ‘Whatever you think you know, we’re not here to hurt anyone,’ Ash reassured her. ‘We just want to talk.’

  Wallace led the way through the doorway that led to the inner corridor, and the workers in the large office didn’t even notice as they passed. He pushed open the door to Marcie’s office and he and Ash stepped inside. It was empty. They crossed the small space and opened the door to Philicia’s office to discover her in conference with Marcie, seated on the couch on the other side of the room.

  ‘Can I help you?’ Marcie asked, standing, as Philicia reached for her phone.

  ‘I told you what would happen if you ever came back here,’ Philicia told Wallace.

  ‘Put it down,’ Ash commanded, hurrying across the room to take the phone. ‘I’m Special Agent—’

  ‘I know who you are,’ Philicia cut her off. ‘I watch the news. They say he’s the Pendulum Killer, that he had something to do with my daughter’s death,’ she added, fixing Wallace with a cold stare. ‘What kind of game are you playing, you sick son of a bitch?’

  ‘I didn’t have anything to do with Erin’s death, I swear,’ Wallace protested. ‘I hadn’t even been to America before last month. Please, I came to you for help, Mrs Byrne. Why would I do that? There has to be a link between your daughter and another victim. Either that or there’s something that links Erin directly to the killer.’

  ‘A man like this doesn’t select victims at random. There’s got to be a connection,’ Ash put in. ‘Help us find it and you’ll help catch your daughter’s killer.’

  ‘Do you have any idea what it’s like to lose someone you love to suicide?’ Philicia said as she stood. ‘To know that life caused them unbearable pain? And to be totally unaware of their suffering?’ She walked slowly towards the window, her head bowed. ‘And now you’re asking me to accept that she might have been murdered?’ She gazed out of the window, her back to the room. After a few moments, she turned to face them, her eyes glistening.

  ‘Did Erin mention anything unusual in the days leading up to her death?’ Ash asked. ‘Were there any strangers around your house, or unusual encounters? Phone calls? Anything?’ she pressed.

  Philicia shook her head. She moved to her desk and leaned against it, pressing both palms flat on the surface and curling her fingers round the edge of the desktop. ‘If there had been anything, I would’ve told the police.’

  The inner door flew open and Jacob burst into the room, pistol drawn, levelled directly at Wallace.

  ‘Shit!’ Ash exclaimed. ‘Panic button,’ she remarked, noting Philicia’s position by the desk.

  ‘Gun,’ Jacob commanded. ‘Slowly.’

  ‘Call the police,’ Philicia instructed Marcie, who hurried from the room.

  Wallace felt a stab of panic as he watched Ash reach beneath her coat for her gun. Jacob kept his pointed in Wallace’s direction the whole time, but despite the threat, Wallace still considered making a run for the door. A quick death would be preferable to any more time spent in Rikers, waiting for Smokie or someone similar to gut him with a shiv. Or, if he was lucky enough to prove his innocence, he could look forward to a few days in witness protection before Pendulum got to him. Wallace was about to move when Ash whipped her pistol round and pointed it at Philicia.

  ‘Put your gun down!’ Ash yelled at Jacob. ‘Do it now!’ She didn’t wait for Jacob to react. Instead, she rushed him and grabbed hold of his pistol, which he reluctantly yielded. ‘Sit down!’ she commanded, and the humiliated bodyguard followed her direction, positioning himself on the couch and glaring at her insolently.

  Wallace was in no doubt that the big man would strike the moment he had the opportunity, but Ash robbed him of the chance; she smacked Jacob across the face with the butt of her pistol, and he fell back unconscious.

  ‘You’ve just turned this into a very intense situation,’ Ash told Philicia, training the gun on her as she cowered by her desk. ‘We need you to talk before the police arrive.’

  ‘I don’t know anything,’ Philicia objected.

  ‘You make out that you’re some kind of saint,’ Ash gestured at their surroundings. ‘You con other people into funding your ego trip, so that you can work off your guilt by trying to save the lives of strangers. All the time you know you failed your daughter, and if that wasn’t bad enough, you’ve left your son to rot in a nuthouse.’

  ‘Rot?’ Philicia seemed genuinely puzzled. ‘Max isn’t well, but he isn’t rotting.’

  ‘Is that what you tell yourself? Drugged to the eyeballs with no visitors; if that isn’t rotting—’

  ‘Drugged? What are you talking about?’ Philicia interrupted. ‘He isn’t drugged, and he has visitors. Steven and I go to see him.’

  ‘What?’ Ash asked. Wallace could see that Philicia’s honest response had unsettled her. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘It’s difficult to see him so unwell, but I try to visit every month. It depends when his doctor thinks he’s well enough to see me,’ Philicia replied indignantly. ‘This charity might make me feel like I’m doing some good with my life, but it hasn’t replaced my children.’

  Ash walked over to the shelving unit that lined Philicia’s office and examined the photograph of Max Byrne, then turned to Wallace. ‘Come on,’ she said, hurrying across the room. ‘We’ve got to go.’

  Wallace could hear the sound of distant sirens. He followed Ash into Marcie’s office, and Philicia’s assistant eyed them nervously as they rushed past.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he asked Ash as they raced towards the elevators.

  ‘We’ve got to get out of here
before the cops arrive. I need to see Max Byrne.’ Ash pressed the call button.

  The doors of the furthest elevator slid open and they started towards it, before stopping in their tracks as two building security guards emerged. Ash gave the men no time to react, levelling her pistol in their direction.

  ‘Get down!’ she yelled. ‘On the floor!’

  The guards hesitated.

  ‘Down!’ Ash repeated emphatically, and the two uniformed men complied, lying face down on the marble tiles.

  Ash joined Wallace in the elevator and kept her gun on the security guards until the doors finally closed. They rode the elevator in tense silence, and when the counter indicated they’d passed the tenth floor, Ash pressed the button marked ‘5’.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Wallace asked.

  ‘We need another way out,’ Ash replied. ‘There’ll be guards waiting for us in the lobby. Police, too, probably.’

  The elevator doors opened on to the hospital-white reception of a design agency. Ignoring the nervous looks of the two assistants who’d caught sight of the gun, Ash stepped out of the elevator and headed for the fire stairs, a few yards away. Wallace followed her into the stairwell and watched as she pulled the fire alarm. They hurried down the stairs as insistent klaxons sounded all around them. Ash triggered another alarm on the floor below, and by the time they reached the third, the stairwell had started to fill with office workers, so they joined the swelling exodus and moved slowly down the stairs until they were eventually expelled into the street. A handful of police officers tried to vet the crowd but they were severely outnumbered, and Ash and Wallace drifted to the edge of the pack, before slowly slipping down the street.

  50

  Something was troubling Ash. It played on her mind and Wallace could see her wrestling with it as they sat in the back of the cab and journeyed through the city. He tried to get her to talk, but she was resistant.