by Matt Drabble
Tommy woke up drenched in sweat that reeked. His heart was pounding hard against his ribcage and threatening to burst free and splatter the walls. Just a dream, just a dream, he repeated to himself over and over again as he willed his pulse to slow. He started to realise that he was actually lying in a hospital room. The bed was high and the walls were a perfect white. He had wires running out of him and into the heart monitor at the side of the bed. The monitor was keeping a steady beat but he wouldn’t want to dance to it.
He went to lift his right hand to feel his aching head, only to find it securely handcuffed to the bed’s railing. His mind flashed with unwelcomed images that would not be denied no matter how hard he fought against them. Arnold Trotter had stood in front of him as large as life and twice as mad. The crazed former children’s entertainer had worn his old costume in a sick parody of what he had once been. Tommy wondered if Trotter’s old teacher and mentor Jeremiah Hogan would have recognised the figure that had stood before him last night. The Captivating Cosmo X was hell and gone from whatever he had once been. Poor PJ’s lifeless face flashed before his eyes and the full horror came back to him in a tsunami. Trotter had decapitated his friend and the last words between them had been harsh and bitter. It was a sickening thought that Tommy’s apology to PJ would be eternally silent and undelivered.
The bright sunshine was streaming through the hospital room window and last night’s macabre performance seemed laughable in the morning light. If his wrist was manacled to the bed, then he was worried about just what the authorities and Gaines in particular had in their minds. A flash of someone else suddenly came into focus. He was sure that he had seen Dixon arrive just before the lights went out. Was it Dixon that had struck him? Did Dixon really believe that he had killed PJ? He had to find out what was going on.
Rushing footsteps came running as his heart rate had sent the monitor into overdrive. He couldn’t help but tense himself as the door flew open, but this time it was a middle aged female nurse who came busting in and not Trotter.
“Mr. Marsh are you ok?” She asked with professional concern as she checked the monitor.
“Just a bad dream,” Tommy replied sheepishly.
“Must have been one hell of a dream,” she stated, looking down at his soaked pajamas. “I’ll get you cleaned up and a fresh pair.”
Tommy could only lay there and wonder at the nurse’s non-judgmental attitude. He was handcuffed to a bed in a small town hospital where no doubt by now all sorts of crazy rumors would be circulating. And yet she held no hate in her eyes; just a woman doing her job.
“Nice to see you up and awake Mr. Marsh,” Gaines said as he stepped into the room.
Tommy’s heart sank at the cop’s attitude written all over his face. This was all personal and very judgmental. The man’s eyes were hard and set and Tommy could only pray that his mind hadn’t followed suit.
“You want to tell me just why I’m handcuffed to the damn bed?” Tommy demanded as the nurse set about wiping him down. He felt awkward as he lay in his sweat stained night attire, but he was determined not to so it.
“Why don’t you tell me about last night Mr. Marsh?” Gaines said as he pulled up a chair to the bedside and took out a notepad and pencil.
Tommy ran through his events from the warehouse. He told Gaines about the argument with PJ, about losing him and then stumbling into the dark building where Trotter had been waiting for him.
“You saw Trotter? You positively identified him?” Gaines asked at that point with raised eyebrows.
“It was him,” Tommy stated firmly. “I saw his face and we spoke.”
“About what may I ask?” Gaines asked in an infuriatingly polite tone.
“About the goddamn weather!” Tommy shouted back. “What the hell do you think we talked about? He’s back and he’s killing people for Christ’s sake. He took PJ’s head clean off of his bloody shoulders and played hide and seek with it under three buckets.”
“Well that’s quite a tale Mr. Marsh,” Gaines sighed exaggeratedly. “Quite a tale indeed.”
“And you don’t believe a word of if do you Gaines? Not a goddamn word.”
“Not in the slightest,” Gaines smiled back.
Tommy would have lunged at the man then and there if it would not have proved the man’s suspicions right, and the fact that he was handcuffed to the bed.
“Is there some reason that you think I’m lying?” Tommy asked tiredly.
“Well there is your medical history to start with,” Gaines smiled pleasantly. “You have quite the past of prescription drugs and psychiatric problems. One therapist spoke of you in terms of delusional and potentially psychotic. Not to mention the fact that I had the doctors run a tox screen on your blood. Do you know what they found in your system apart from the high alcohol levels?”
“They wouldn’t have found a damn thing in my system and if you say they did then you are lying.” Tommy snapped.
“Exactly right Mr. Marsh.” Gaines said still smiling. “They didn’t find a single drug, prescription or otherwise. You’ve been a naughty boy haven’t you Mr. Marsh? You’re off your meds and running wild.”
“Oh that’s bullshit Gaines. You really must be desperate if that’s the path you’re going down. I’m no more a raving lunatic than you are!”
“Well there is one other tiny little problem with your story Mr. Marsh, we have a witness.”
Tommy’s mind reeled against the suggestion. How could there be a witness to something that he hadn’t done? There was no-one else there other than him, Trotter and PJ. Dixon, he suddenly thought to himself, Dixon was there. But why would his friend lie? What purpose would it serve for Dixon to see him locked away? His answer came in the form of a pale and strained face that looked around the hospital room door. Ally looked like she hadn’t slept all night and her eyes were heavily bagged.
“I thought I told you to wait outside Ms Chambers,” Gaines barked irritably.
A second face appeared next to Ally’s as Dixon placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and pulled her lightly back into the corridor. For a split second Tommy saw the smile on Dixon’s face and the soft touch on her shoulder. In a flash he knew that Dixon was the prime witness against him, and he also knew why.
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Adrian Todd opened his office door and looked around the corridor in despair. Was this really the army that stood between him and some maniac looking for vengeance? A room full of college graduates with too many brains and not enough balls. Dixon had suddenly slipped from sight proclaiming that he had everything in hand. Todd scoffed to himself. If things had come to him depending on Dixon to bail him out, then things were in a worse state than he’d feared. It was a shame that real life wasn’t scripted. Up on the big screen he’d be surrounded by mercenaries of the ex-special forces variety. Unfortunately professional goons weren’t exactly registered in the Yellow Pages.
He stood up and wandered around his private office. His desk and walls were a shrine to his late daughter Mary. Her angelic face shone down on him from every corner of the room. It twisted his guts in knots to think that he was now the one in hiding. It was his cause that had been the righteous one. He had been the grieving father seeking justice for his child’s murder. He had been imbued with the fist of moral virtue. And yet here he skulked, afraid of the shadows and the man that rested in them. As far as he could tell he had only made one mistake, and that was letting Trotter live. He’d wanted the man to go on suffering until his natural end; to have to rise every morning with the physical reminders of his guilt, and of a father’s vengeance. But now he knew that he should have had the man killed after his torture. To his credit Dixon had expressed such thoughts at the time despite still really being just a kid. But he had been too full of hate and retribution to listen. Now his business was suffering. Deliveries were sitting idle and wasting away. He was only fortunate that his particular product didn’t come with the inherent dangers of the harder substances. If he was growing popp
y fields instead of pot then he would have more to fear from his partners than Arnold Trotter.
The phone rang in his pocket and he almost dropped it in his haste to answer it whilst praying for good news. He checked the lit screen and saw it was Dixon calling.
“What is it?” He snapped as he answered.
“It’s over boss,” Dixon replied.
“What the hell do you mean it’s over?”
“The cops arrested Tommy Marsh late last night.”
“What?”
“Tommy Marsh.”
“What the hell has that got to do with anything?” He asked confused.
“It was Tommy Marsh all along, not Trotter,” Dixon said patiently.
Todd stared off into space unable to take in the news. “Your old school friend? How the hell does that work?”
“Well it seems that old Tommy left here with quite the mental health issue. Deputy Trinder furnished me with some of the details that he caught while listening in to Gaines and Doc Norton.”
“Well?” Todd snapped impatiently.
“Tommy is basically nuts man,” Dixon laughed.
“Is that your clinical diagnosis?” Todd barked back.
“No, but it was pretty much theirs. Another little fact for you boss, is that Tommy went completely off the reservation last night and killed PJ, you know, Peter Joffre.”
“Bullshit.”
“No bullshit, they even have a witness.”
“Who the hell saw that?”
“Me.”
Todd dared for a second to hope that it was true. That there was no bogeyman out in the night stalking him in the darkness. “Are you on the level here Russell?” He asked sharply. “You know what’ll happen to you if I find out that you lied to me.”
“No bullshit boss,” Dixon said sounding sincere. “I saw the whole thing, knocked Tommy’s punk ass out and waited for the cops to show up and take him in.”
“Is he in jail now?”
“Next best thing. He’s chained to a hospital bed with Henry Trinder standing guard outside his room.”
“Jesus Russell is it really over?” Todd hated the sound of weakness in his voice, especially when talking to an employee, but he couldn’t help it.
“It’s over boss. You can send the fellas back to work and sleep soundly. Why don’t you take a couple of days off to recharge the old batteries? I can look after things. Send the boys back to the office so that we can catch up and put your feet up.”
Todd hung up the phone and breathed deeply. Relief flooded his lungs but questions buzzed his brain. He sat and pondered the news before finally deciding that for once he would take Dixon’s advice. He’d send the college boys back to their day jobs; they weren’t exactly cut out for protection work anyway. Maybe he would take a few days off, maybe even take a trip somewhere. This whole scare had been a startling look at his own mortality. He might be a big fish in a little pond, but there was a whole ocean outside of his own tiny world.
----------
Ally shook her head in stubborn disbelief. “There’s no way Russell,” she snapped harshly. “I don’t believe it, I won’t believe it.”
“I’m sorry Ally, I really am,” Dixon said sadly. “I wish to God that it wasn’t true, but I was there, I saw him.”
“You were mistaken, that’s all,” she said firmly. “There is no way that Tommy is capable of what you’re saying, I know him.”
“Oh really!” Dixon snapped impatiently. “Why? Because we all used to pal around 20 odd years ago? You really think that you know him?” He asked incredulously.
Ally stood defiantly. They were sitting in her apartment above the diner. The lounge was spacious and well presented. It was her sanctuary away from the hustle of the diner below. It wasn’t the mansion that she’d once dreamed of as a younger girl, but it was hers. Dixon may have bought it for her as her divorce settlement, but it was her blood and sweat that kept the lights on. Her hair was still wet from the shower that she had taken after Dixon had run her home from the hospital. She hadn’t been allowed to speak to Tommy, but she had glanced him from the hospital corridor. Her heart had sunk from the mere sight of him. He looked so pale and shocked that she had felt an immediate and overwhelming urge to run to him. She knew what Dixon and Gaines were saying about Tommy, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe it was true. There had to be some kind of mistake here. Somebody had either gotten things terribly wrong, or else someone was lying. She knew on the surface that what Dixon was saying made rational sense. She hadn’t even laid eyes on Tommy for 20 years, but in her heart she knew that it couldn’t be true. She knew that her ex-husband had always been a little jealous of Tommy but surely he wouldn’t stoop to this would he?
“What exactly did you see Russell?” She asked pointedly.
“I told you,” he said sulkily.
“So tell me again.”
“I saw him. I saw PJ’s head in his lap. I saw him talking to himself, talking about Trotter. But it was him Ally,” Dixon said grabbing hold of her arm roughly.
She felt uncomfortable as Dixon sat on the sofa next to her. His bulk invaded her personal space and suddenly she felt nervous.
“It was him, all of it, can’t you see that?” Dixon said in a choked and pleading tone. “All of this fantasy that you have for the man is in your own head. You have some childish romantic notions that don’t exist. Where was he when you needed him most? Where was he when you were going off the rails and falling apart? He didn’t come for you then did he?”
Ally cringed away as Dixon’s voice rose in volume and intensity. His grip on her arm was growing increasingly painful and his eyes were wild with rage and passion.
“It’s me that loves you Ally,” he implored. “It’s always been me.”
“I don’t know what you want from me,” she said, growing tense.
“I just want you Ally, I always did, and I still do. We could make it work, I know we could. We could move away from here if that’s what you want. Find somewhere far away from these memories and ghosts. Get married again, start a family, whatever you want Ally. I know I can make it work, I know I can,” he said desperately. “Please.”
Despite the painful grip on her arm and his intimidating and overbearing presence, she still felt pity for him. She could not remember him ever sounding so fraught and the word “Sorry” had rarely passed his lips. “I’m sorry Russell, I will always be grateful for the help you gave me when I needed it the most, but I just don’t feel that way about you.”
“I was the one who took you in and got you straight. It’s me that you owe godammit!” He snarled. He killed PJ and God knows how many others Ally, and you still want to stand by him? You’d still pick him? After everything?”
She shook her arm free and rubbed the red patch. “Is that what you’re still obsessed with? After all these years? You still want to whip them out and see who’s bigger?” She laughed.
She regretted the laugh as soon as it was out of her mouth. His face purpled with rage and she knew that she’d touched his rawest nerve. She hadn’t meant to, but she’d been more concerned with Tommy’s plight than his.
“You know what? Screw you,” he snapped in a childish retort. “I should have let him butcher you too and then maybe you’d believe me.”
Ally wanted to apologies as Dixon stood quickly and grabbed his jacket up off of the table. He towered over her and for the first time in their lives together and apart, as friends and lovers and friends again, she felt scared of him. He had never directed his undisputed anger towards her before. They’d had arguments before of course. They’d fought over trivial matters, argued over carpets and wallpaper. But he’d never brought his business home or even the character that he was at work. When she’d gotten clean and her mind had finally cleared enough for her to see straight and she’d asked for a divorce, he’d been cordial. She suddenly felt terrible. Dixon may be far from perfect, but he had always been there for her. He had loved her and cared for her. Prot
ected her when she’d needed it and helped to nurse her back into the person that she hoped she was underneath.
“Russell I’m sorry,” she called desperately as he stormed towards the door. “Please.”
He turned and looked at her with an equal mixture of anger and sorrow in his eyes. “It could never be me could it? No matter what I did or what I tried to do, it was never me.”
She looked at him and felt his sorrow. He had done so much for her and she had given so little in return. The least she owed him now was the truth. “No,” she said sadly. “For what it’s worth I’m sorry, but no.”
He flung the door open and marched out beyond. His eyes were now full of anger and the sadness was consumed by hate. She was scared of him then, and scared for anyone who got in his way.
19.
ASSUMPTIONS & IRON BARS
Sam Norton sat in Gaines’ office attempting to down the remains of a thick syrupy bitter liquid that must have been mistakenly labeled coffee. He was far from a connoisseur but he at least had some taste buds left in his old head.
“So what do we think?” He asked Gaines who was sitting pensively across the desk.
“About what?” The cop answered infuriatingly.
“About the Marsh boy, genius.”
“He’s far from a boy these days doc.”
“Everyone’s a boy when you get to my age Gaines, even you.”
“Well we certainly have enough to hold him for sure.”
“What’s this we business paleface?” Norton laughed.
“Alright, I have enough,” Gaines smiled.
“Better, don’t you go dragging me down with your sorry ass,” Norton grinned.
“Between his medical history, his involvement with the victims, and the witness statement, he is certainly a person of interest as we say.”
“What about motive?”
“Hey it was your research that said he was a nut job.”
“That’s not quite the professional diagnosis Sherman, but I get your point.”
“On the face of it we arrest and hold him. There wasn’t any direct evidence at any of the murder sites however and that bothers me. No DNA, no fingerprints, and only one witness which was at the Joffre murder.” Gaines conceded.