by H. P. Bayne
“We’re trying to figure out a way to solve what happened to David and Eloise,” Sully said. “The thing is, I’ve seen her.”
“Alive?”
“Dead. Definitely dead.”
“And the fact you can see her means she was murdered, doesn’t it?” Emily asked.
Sully nodded. “I saw her in their old house, in The Forks. She was—”
“Not a good idea to go to The Forks, dear. Not anymore.”
Dez snorted and shook his head. “I keep telling him.”
Sully nudged his brother and continued with what he’d been trying to say. “She was beaten and stabbed. While I was at the house, I also found some keys. I think they’re to Lockwood. He must have left them there when he evacuated before the flood. We’re wondering now if there’s some way we’d be able to get in to use them. The problem is, I obviously can’t be seen there, and Dez isn’t supposed to be around there either.”
Emily’s face scrunched up a little as if in thought. A moment later, widening eyes and an open-mouthed grin told Sully a lightbulb had gone off. “As it happens, I might have a solution.” She stood, using the table edge as support, and shuffled to the side of the fridge. Pulling something from beneath a magnet, she returned with the card to the table and laid it in front of Sully. “Lockwood homecoming. One hundred and fifty years since they opened the institution. Every living person who’s ever worked there has been invited, and it will be open to families of patients too. I went to the one hundred and twenty-fifth, and I remember they had the gates open to visitors. Patients considered dangerous or a flight risk were kept inside locked areas of the institution, so access to the grounds wasn’t considered a problem. A lot of people showed up, and I’d expect the same for this reunion. Parts of the institution will be open for tours—Dr. Gerhardt’s way, no doubt, of showing what a great job he’s doing. I’d expect you’d be able to blend easily enough into the crowd.”
Sully peered doubtfully at his mountainous brother. Emily conceded the point.
“Or you could, anyway,” she told Sully.
Sully expected Dez would have something to say about that, and he wasn’t disappointed. “I don’t want you going in there without backup.”
“I’d go with him,” Emily said. “Don’t worry.”
“No offence, Emily, but I was thinking more of someone who could fight off any orderlies who might identify Sully.”
“Oh, I won’t be going without a little backup myself,” she said, tapping the side of her nose.
“What backup?”
“Messers Smith & Wesson.”
Dez had just taken a mouthful of tea, and Sully smirked as he watched his brother struggle to swallow. Once he had, he stared at Emily with wide eyes. “Your handgun? You’re going to go armed to your reunion?”
“The chief psychiatrist had me hit by a car, and when he failed to kill me, threatened me into a life of silence. Damn right, I’m going armed.”
Dez shrugged. “Guessing they won’t be running anyone through metal detectors.”
“Like I said, the security risks will be kept inside. Staff won’t be anticipating any major problems with the guests, and I won’t give them any unless they’re keen to start something first.”
Dez grinned. “I wish you were my grandma.”
Sully scanned the invitation for the date. “This is tomorrow.”
“It is. Will you be ready?”
Sully delayed his response, waiting for his heart to stop thudding like a marching band bass drum. After everything he’d gone through, he’d vowed never to go anywhere near the place again. He was fast coming to the realization he would have to break that promise to himself.
“I’ll have to be,” he said.
14
Dez knew Lachlan wasn’t going to stay quiet for long. The expected call came while he was still at Emily’s, stewing about his brother’s planned return to Lockwood.
“What’s up, Lachlan?” he asked upon answering his vibrating phone.
“We need to interview the psychiatrist. And I’d like to get on it now.”
“We’ve got a lead,” Dez said. “My neighbour has a way in to Lockwood tomorrow. It’s open for a reunion thing. She and Sully are going.”
“Maybe that’s our way in, too, then,” Lachlan said. “We could go there to speak with the doctor about the case.”
Dez liked the idea of being nearby should Sully need him, but recent memory dampened his enthusiasm for the plan. “Gerhardt told me I’m not allowed back there.”
“What’s the worst that can happen? He boots you out again? Big deal. Anyway, I’ll tell him you’re my associate, and I need your help on the investigation. If he’s truly interested in finding his son, he’ll accept whatever help comes his way. That should include you.”
“He doesn’t trust me.”
“He’s a father searching for his missing child. Trust doesn’t factor into it. Desperate parents will go to any lengths to find answers, and often that includes trusting in every two-bit shyster who comes forward. By comparison, you’re pretty damn reliable.”
Dez was happy to concede the point. He checked the card Emily had laid on the table. “Reunion starts at two tomorrow. Casual dress. I’ll pick you up at one-thirty.” His gaze moved between Emily and Sully. “You two will go at the same time?”
“I think we’re all better waiting an hour or so,” Emily suggested. “Place will be busier by three or four.”
Dez nodded. “Emily says—”
“I heard her, junior. Good idea. Pick me up at two-thirty then. In the meantime, I’d like you to swing by my office. I’ve got someone else we should speak with. Fill you in when you get here.”
Dez agreed and disconnected the call. “I guess we’ve got a plan,” he said to Sully and Emily. “I need to head over to Lachlan’s office. He’s wants to talk to someone.”
“Who?” Sully asked.
“He said he’d fill me in.”
“Does he need me?”
“He didn’t say.”
“All right,” Sully said. “I’ll head out to The Forks and grab my stuff. If I’m going to be staying at the apartment here, I’ll need it.”
Dez frowned. “Wait a bit, and I’ll go with you.”
Sully met Dez’s worry with a soothing smile. “I’m just heading to Ravenwood, that’s all. I don’t even have to go in, really. My stuff’s all down in the tunnel. I can be in and out in ten minutes.”
“Okay,” Dez said. “But do us both a favour and pick up Pax first, huh? I’d feel better knowing he’s there with all his teeth. Oh, and don’t mention to Mom about your injuries.”
Sully rolled his eyes. “Like I was going to say anything.” He turned his attention to Emily. “Sorry to ask, but would I be able to borrow your car? I’m not driving it into The Forks or anything, just to where I stashed the boat. I’d call a cab to take me, but they probably wouldn’t want Pax in there.”
“Of course you may, dear,” she said. She stood and retrieved her keys from a basket on the counter nearest the door. “Just don’t get pulled over. You don’t have a licence.”
Sully accepted the keys. “I may not have a licence at the moment, but I’m still a way better driver than Dez.”
Dez smacked him.
Lachlan was his usual picture of impatience when Dez arrived.
“What took you so long?”
“Traffic was nuts. It’s right before the weekend. Lots of people have EDOs today.”
“Whatever.”
“So where are we going?”
“Nowhere,” Lachlan said. “He’s coming to us.”
“He, who?”
“Paul Dunsmore. I think you know him.”
Paul. Son of Reynold Dunsmore, president and CEO of Dunsmore Developments. Dez and Sully had dealings with Paul four years ago while searching for Bulldog’s missing niece. Nice enough guy, had even come to Sully’s funeral. Plus, he was rich—a point that would run in his favour with Lachlan, ever o
n the lookout for lucrative cases.
“I know him a little,” Dez said. “What’s he want?”
“Nothing. I asked him to come.”
“Why?”
Lachlan’s face cracked into one of his all-knowing smiles. “I’ve been doing a little asking around about this Circle you boys told me about. I’ve known Paul a while, and figured his family was just the sort who’d be welcomed into a fold like that. When I contacted him, he said he knows about it and would be happy to share.”
Dez’s heart thudded. “He’s a member?”
“Has been for a while, I understand. And he didn’t sound too enthusiastic about it.”
Lachlan stopped talking as the sound of footsteps on the floorboards outside the door reached them. A moment later, a knock sounded.
Dez answered to find Paul there, watched as the man’s gaze travelled upward until his eyes met Dez’s. Paul grinned and reached out a hand to shake.
“Desmond Braddock. I haven’t seen you since—” He stopped abruptly. Dez read it in his expression, the realization he’d just stepped into an awkward topic. The last time they’d seen each other, of course, had been at Sully’s gravesite.
Dez pumped Paul’s hand warmly, seeking to ease away the man’s discomfort. “Good to see you, man. Come in. Have a seat.”
“What are you doing here?” Paul asked. “Not that it’s not great to see you.”
“Desmond works with me,” Lachlan said. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Of course not,” Paul said. He crossed the room, settling into one of Lachlan’s armchairs. He waited until Dez took the one next to him before asking, “How are you doing?”
“Okay, thanks,” Dez said. “You?”
“Fine, but I meant…. You know what I meant.”
Paul, like most of the rest of the world, had no idea about Sully’s being alive. As much as Dez liked Paul, it was a truth he wasn’t prepared to share.
Then again, Dez didn’t want to start the conversation with a lie, either.
“Oh,” he said, with a shrug. “You know.”
“Yeah,” Paul said, finishing with a pat to Dez’s shoulder.
Lachlan cleared his throat, drawing their attention to him. “You’re probably wondering why I wanted to know about the Circle, Paul.”
“Actually, what I’ve always wondered was why no one wants to know more about it. Most people have never heard of it, but those who have never seem to question it.”
“Bunch of wealthy men and women,” Lachlan said. “They’re rarely what you’d call ‘the usual suspects,’ are they?”
“Fair enough,” Paul said. “I guess the question should be why people aren’t more suspicious when rich, powerful people get together to pool their resources. I’d definitely question what’s going on. I have, actually.”
“But you’re a member, aren’t you?” Dez asked.
“My parents are founding members and they brought my brother and me in. We really had little choice in the matter, given we’re all co-owners of Dunsmore Developments.” He shrugged. “I try to have as little to do with the Circle as possible. I attend meetings as required, but I stay out of decision-making. My parents are majority shareholders in our company, anyway. They make all the big decisions for us—which includes anything to do with the Circle. Personally, I wish it didn’t exist, but that’s just me.”
“We know a little about the Circle,” Lachlan said. “But we’d love to know more. What can you tell us?”
“It’s been around quite a few years. Decades, actually. It started off pretty small, just a few pissed-off, rich, white men who couldn’t get into the Masons or something like that. Since then, it’s grown to more ridiculous proportions.
“In essence, it’s become a mini-bank. Members invest when they find someone they believe will go places. It’s an incestuous little group, everyone sitting on everyone’s boards or acting as investors in each other’s companies. My father, in particular, has dropped money into countless ventures.” He met Dez’s eye. “That includes your uncle. My father had a fair hand in LOBRA’s establishment, and he put up a significant amount of capital to help Lowell set it up back in the day—construction, hiring, research, everything. It was costly, you can imagine, but my father saw something in him.”
Paul returned his gaze to Lachlan. “Usually the way these things work, deals are made based on risk and promise. If you’ve ever watched Dragon’s Den, you’ll get the idea. Prospects petition existing members, offering a portion of their company or profits in exchange for start-up funds or something else they need to get their business off the ground or booming. Depending on the risk involved, members might seek a greater return. There are opportunities down the road for owners of successful ventures to buy out investors, should they want a greater share of control in their own companies.”
“What if they aren’t successful?” Dez asked.
“Some people are simply turned away at the start. But for those whose ventures fail after significant investment… well, nothing comes for free, does it? Those members are usually kicked out, and they’re left on the hook for whatever they owe. I’ve seen people literally destroyed, forced to declare bankruptcy or revert to fraud to repay what they owe. You remember that Kay O’Hanlon affair a few years back?”
“Multi-million-dollar fraud,” Lachlan said. “She was a member?”
“Failed member. The fraud was intended as a way to repay the Circle.”
“I didn’t hear mention of the Circle during that investigation. She did say she owed investors, but that was it.”
“It doesn’t pay to mention the Circle by name. They guard their secrets well. As it stood, she owed them money. If she’d brought them into it by name, she would have owed them her life.”
“Hang on,” Dez said. “The Circle would have had her killed?”
“I’m not suggesting they’re all a bunch of killers. Most wouldn’t have the stomach for it. But some people, as you’re well aware, are prepared to do anything to hold onto what they have. If the Circle breaks, they all fall. What makes them strongest also makes them weakest. Because they are all in each other’s back pockets, if one of them goes down, the chances of him or her taking others down are high. And if they go, more follow. It’s like a house of cards.”
“Harry Schuster,” Dez said.
Paul’s head snapped toward Dez, his eyebrows lifted. “What?”
“Sorry,” Dez said. “Harry Schuster. He was a member of the Circle who was committed to—”
“I know who he was. I didn’t know his involvement in the Circle was well-known.”
“It isn’t,” Dez said. “I found out about it by chance during an investigation a while back. There’s some suspicion his health problems and subsequent death in Lockwood weren’t altogether natural.”
Paul nodded. “He knew things. A lot of things. Enough to worry most members. He was valuable to them, but they feared him too. Because of the way his brain worked, the whole psychic thing or whatever you want to call it, he could foresee where the biggest successes would come. But he also knew where the bodies were buried. It was only a matter of time before something happened to him.”
Dez leaned toward Paul. “Do you know what happened to him?”
“Only that he suffered a fatal stroke while in Lockwood. I’ve always suspected there’s more to it, but I have no proof. And good luck to anyone else looking to prove it.”
Lachlan sat forward behind his desk, lifting steepled fingers to his chin. “What are your thoughts on Lowell Braddock?”
Paul glanced from Lachlan to Dez and back again. “Are you really asking me that? Now?”
“I am.”
Paul’s eyes darted back to Dez.
“It’s okay if you’ve got issues with him,” Dez said. “I’ve found out some stuff about him. Made me realize he’s not who I thought he was.”
“This is strictly between us, I presume,” Paul said. He inclined his head toward Dez. “I’m trusti
ng you with what I say here. If any of this gets back—”
“It won’t,” Dez said. “I’ve got no loyalty to him anymore.” He considered it briefly, decided on some quid pro quo to invite honesty from Paul—but nowhere near full quid pro quo. Dez still had people to worry about, and if it turned out Paul reported back to Lowell, he didn’t want to think about the ramifications. “Sully told me Lowell and the head orderly from Lockwood tried to kill him. When they failed, they got him committed. Lowell was present for experiments they conducted, experiments using LOBRA drugs.”
“Christ,” Paul said. “But you don’t have proof?”
“No, and I don’t know we’ll find any. Nothing people will believe anyway.”
“And you’d like my help to find some.”
Dez’s thoughts hadn’t travelled there yet, simply wondering what Paul already had for information. This new possibility was a hopeful one.
“Would you be willing to?”
“I can try,” Paul said. He turned another few inches in his chair so he faced Dez more fully. “Here’s the thing. I liked your brother. Sure, he pegged me for a killer once, but he also saved my life with all that ghost stuff he could do. He was a good man. Harry, troubled as he was, was a good man too. I’d hate to think how many more good people have been bowled under by the rich and the powerful in this city. You know I’ve always done what I could to help fix the parts of this community my family and others like them have broken. I will do what I can now.”
He returned to his previous position and rubbed the palms of his hands over his legs as if to rid them of sweat. “It won’t be easy, but I’ll try.”
“No one wants you to put yourself at risk here,” Dez said. “That’s definitely not what I’m asking.”
“Risks are inevitable.” Paul said. “Given your family history, you know that better than most.” He paused, but his mouth remained slightly open as if he was merely searching for the right words. Dez waited him out.
“You asked about Lowell,” Paul said. “And you told me what he did to Sullivan. I said most members of the Circle don’t have the stomach for murder. Lowell isn’t one of them. I have no proof—and I have no doubt you’d have to search long and hard to find any—but I believe Lowell is behind what happened to Harry. Lowell and Roman Gerhardt. I know that must sound outlandish—”