Sue sighed and spat out her words, not caring who heard, "What are you doing here?"
“You know how things work," he replied with a broad grin. “We go where we have to." Balls laughed heartily, and when he was just one step away from Sue, he held out his arms as if he was ready to embrace an old friend.
Sue shuddered at the thought of touching him, and frowning, she stretched out her right hand, signalling him to keep his distance.
Balls began patting the pockets of his coat in search of something, and a moment later, he fished out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit one and extended it to Sue.
Disgusted by the gesture, she turned the other way. She had always prided herself on being professional at all times, but she was seriously struggling to keep her cool in front of the Inspector.
"Come now, my dear Sue. I know it ended badly between us, and I'm sorry for that, but surely we can be professional about this?" he asked with a smile.
Sue said nothing for a moment, before spitting out the words, "You’re a prick." She stood there with a file shielding her right hand, and as she held two hidden fingers up to him she replied, "If you’re so clever, how many fingers am I holding up?"
Balls just smiled.
Sue fixated her eyes on the inch-long piece of ash that was precariously dangling from the end of Balls’ cigarette. "This is a crime scene. If that ash drops on the ground or on the body..."
"Sorry," Balls said, wide-eyed as he suddenly realised his mistake. He held his hand under the ash as he made his way to the kerb and flicked it into the street.
Watching him leave, Sue's eyes narrowed as he hissed through clenched teeth, "I'll be back in a minute, Sue."
Just then the forensic team arrived, and a photographer stood to one side of the body, clicking away. Balls shouldered his way back into the garden.
"Any idea who killed him?" She found herself asking the question before she could stop herself, and instantly regretted it because she knew that Balls was incapable of telling the truth.
This was definitely not one of those straightforward murders, like wife cheats on husband and husband goes on a killing spree. This was an entirely different scenario, and as Balls continued to analyse the obvious, Sue’s eyes were busy noting the more interesting aspects of the crime scene. There were certain incongruities she had noticed, but she was keeping them to herself. For now.
As she was staring at him, she suddenly remembered something about Balls. His bravado was misleading, but the sudden case of the fidgets wasn't – the guy was so shifty.
Balls turned to Sue and smiled at her. “So, who are you working for now?”
"Just a private investigation agency," she answered vaguely. The less he knew about her, the better, as far as she was concerned. She gave him a reproachful look that was as beguiling as it was coy.
He called out to her again, intrigued, but she silenced him, her hand slicing through the air and cutting him off. “I can't do this right now. Get it? I can't."
He wavered where he was standing, for a second looking like he wanted nothing more than to come right back at her and pick up where they’d left off.
She stared back at him stonily for a few breaths and then finally glanced away.
The sweater Sue was wearing was clinging just a little too tightly to her curves, and it wasn’t surprising that most of the male police officers were checking her out – when you didn’t have much to do other than stand in position, the sight of an attractive woman was something you couldn’t ignore.
John also gave her the nod, but she just shook her head and ignored all the attention she was getting.
It was a relief when she could finally step away from the crime scene again, and she gratefully drank in the air. It was hardly fresh, but even the traffic fumes were better than what she’d been breathing recently. Across the street, the crowd of onlookers had grown since she’d arrived – as usual, the news of a killing had spread rapidly around the neighbourhood, and everyone wanted in on it. It never ceased to amaze her how people liked to come and gawk, as if murder was a spectator sport, and there was always a dubious minority who wanted to share the experience. Some things never changed.
After what felt like hours and hours, Pedro suggested to Sue they should grab something to eat. "I can't guarantee we won't run into these people, though."
Sue nodded and picked up her bag.
Pedro was glancing around at the groups of people nearby as he waited for her to answer, trying to make sure he didn't put her in an awkward situation. She threw her bag into the back of her car and slid into the driver’s seat. Buckling up his seat belt, Pedro suggested The Fig and Tree around the corner, hoping for some privacy so they could talk freely.
"I used to go there a lot when I worked at the station," Sue said in the way of an answer, and the conversation quickly turned to the time when she’d had issues with the other officers at the station.
"Balls seems like a top-drawer asshole," Pedro observed.
"He wanted to pin it on me, wanted to make himself look good," replied Sue bitterly.
They soon got to the pub, and upon entering, Pedro chose a door-facing seat in one of the booths. The waitress came over and took their drinks order, then Pedro turned to Sue. "As a general rule, when I'm in public places, I don't like sitting with my back to the door,” he explained. “I want to be able to see who's coming in and going out, just in case."
Sue slipped in next to him, nodding. Sometimes she found people’s habits strange, but this one she could understand.
The waitress – a plain brunette – set their drinks on the table, and Sue picked hers up while Pedro turned his face away from her; he’d noticed a tall, curious-looking guy staring at them from over in the corner.
"Is that the guy, the guy in the corner?" asked Pedro.
She glanced over, shaking her head. "No." She sipped her Diet Coke, flinching at the taste. “I don’t know why I still order this stuff.”
“Me neither,” said Pedro. “Maybe we should get something stronger?” He ordered two large glasses of Scotch without waiting for Sue to answer, and when they arrived, she drank it silently.
Pedro studied her. She was pretty – prettier than he’d previously thought. He’d never really seen her this close up before, and he noticed with a smile that her face was covered in tiny freckles. Running a hand through his thick, black hair, he spoke under his breath, "I wanted t-to say..." he laughed at his flustered stuttering, then licked his lips nervously – it was obvious what he wanted to do.
"Come here," Sue whispered, reaching with one hand around Pedro's nape and pulling him close. "I've been wanting to do this since the day of the interview," she murmured, as she kissed him passionately. "Sorry."
"Don't ever apologise for that," he said, smiling, as he glanced at the illuminated face of his watch; it was getting late. "Sue, here's what I need you to do, and it’s important that John knows nothing."
Pedro went on to tell her his plan, stopping occasionally to sip his Scotch.
"Okay,” she said, after a slight pause. “I can do that. When?"
"Friday."
The next day, Sue was the first to arrive. She had forgotten that the decorators were due to repaint the office that morning, and Pedro had already suggested that the group gather at a new location to plan the day’s questioning. First, however, he had to collect a package from the post office, and as he got in the car, Sue joined him.
"Will you let me speak to you a moment or two, Pedro?" she asked with an engaging but perturbed smile.
Pedro didn’t answer. He seemed extremely unhappy, whatever the reason was. Perhaps it was the weather, she thought – it was early Tuesday morning, cold and still dark. A flurry of snow swirled across the windscreen.
Shivering, he rubbed his hands together before starting the car, and once he’d parked across the road from the post office, he turned to Sue. "The others are waiting over there at number forty-five," Pedro told her, pointing towa
rds their temporary office.
"I’ll get a coffee while I wait for you," she said.
Nodding, he went in to collect his package, and soon, they were all standing in the new location.
The murder was on every front page in the region. The reports were vague about the circumstances, but, reading between the lines, it was clear that the details were too gruesome to go into.
"Have a look," Sue said, gesturing at the paper in front of them.
Pedro sipped his coffee as he stared at the article. "This is what it’s all about," he said after reading it carefully.
It so happened that Pedro had already read all the available evidence before, including the coroner’s initial report. Earlier that morning, he’d heard back from the police medical examiner: apparently, the police had missed the blood by the tree and when they went to re-examine the scene, they found a business card – still in a plastic seal – which had been hidden in the grass near the tree. A forty-year-old male had been arrested.
Pedro looked very pleased with himself. "All in a day’s work," he said.
Sue smiled. “It would be interesting to sit in on the police interview. I’d like to know what the man’s motives were.”
"I suppose that’s one of the disadvantages of just being a private investigator," John said.
"Yep. I guess that put me back in my box,” she replied, offering a little laugh. She turned to Pedro and smiled.
He stared back at her, his expression unreadable.
Chapter 23
Sue was in a bad mood.
"Fuck me. My fucking feet are fucking killing me," she said, sighing.
"Your feet are always killing you," said a rather annoyed-sounding Pedro. "You're a bleeding investigator, for God's sake – why the hell do you wear four-inch heels to work?"
"They make me look taller," said Sue, shaking her head and shrugging, as if that explained everything.
"How the hell can you afford such expensive shoes on the money I pay you, anyway?"
"Ha,” she said, raising her eyebrows at Pedro before adding, “my phone’s not working."
"Use mine."
Pedro passed it over, watching as Sue tapped in her number and waited. As her own phone sprang into life, Pedro flinched. "Sue, you need to calm down a little. I don’t know what’s going on – one moment you’re like a real professional private investigator, and the next you act like it’s all too much for you."
"I’m fine," she replied, though her shaking voice said the opposite.
Later on, Sue took her lunch out of her bag, ready to eat it at her desk. Taking the pre-made sandwich out of its plastic casing, she started picking out the cucumber slices one by one, before opening a packet of crisps and slipping in the ready salted snacks between the bread in its place. So much for trying to stay healthy.
Pedro watched her, concerned. After picking at the crisp sandwich for several minutes, she got out a plastic container and a fork, poking at its contents before shoveling a fork load of what appeared to be tuna mayo into her mouth. She sat like that – a gob full of the sandwich filling – for a few seconds, just staring at the desk.
Pedro was just about to say something to her – to snap her out of her strange paralysis – when she sprang from her seat, grabbed her car keys, and rushed from the office, leaving the rest of her sandwich and her bag behind.
John glanced at Pedro. “What on earth was that all about?”
Pedro shrugged his shoulders – he had no idea what it had been about. Sometimes, Sue was a mystery. An enigma.
Almost exactly one hour later, she returned, apologising as she sat in her seat. "Sorry, sorry… I’ve just been having a bad morning." She laughed quietly. “A bad day, in fact.”
"That’s not like you, Sue,” said Pedro, trying to sound concerned. He didn’t usually go in for all this touchy-feely stuff, but with Sue it just kind of slipped out.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, before taking a deep breath. “Sorry, it’s just my sister – I had an argument with her. The worst one we’ve ever had. It always happens – she sneers, sneaks, and tries to demoralise me."
"I suppose it’s normal to fall out with your sister sometimes," said Pedro, nodding.
Sue laughed. “It’s not sometimes; it’s all the time.”
“But why?” asked Pedro, intrigued as to why this seemed to bother Sue so much.
Sue sighed. “Let’s just say we haven’t got on for quite a few years. It started when…” she sighed again, as if suddenly tired of something, “I failed my university course. She laughed at me – humiliated me – and when she went on to appear on TV, and I was still the ‘failure of the family’, well… I haven’t really liked her since.”
"Sue, try to be a listening person rather than a talking one. Don’t take this personally," Pedro added when Sue looked mutinous, "it’s for your own good. And you must stop blowing your top – you lose dignity every time you raise your voice."
She just smiled back at him, unsure of what to say.
John watched the whole thing with interest. Pedro seemed to have got his act together since he’d started his agency. He’d got contracts, a good reputation, and what seemed to be – at least on the surface – a thoroughly thriving business. How he’d done it, John wasn’t sure.
As Pedro swallowed the last of his coffee, he stood up and threw the empty plastic cup towards the bin, hitting the side of it. Staring at the cup – which was now on the floor – Pedro sighed and then, a few seconds later, started to shake. John could see in Pedro's eyes that he wasn’t thinking straight. Had he detected a weakness? Whatever it was, John was determined to find out more.
The next morning, John arrived at Pedro's office early to collect his wages. They were finally back on the old premises following the redecorations, and Sue was already at her desk, looking through some paperwork.
As John only worked part time, he wasn’t aware of all the cases they were working on at the moment, and to be honest, he didn’t care that much, yet at the same time, the sooner he finished this investigation work, the better. The prospect of not having to see Pedro again certainly brought back the old smile. He wanted to tell Pedro how sick he was of the set-ups and the "Oh-my-goodness-look-who-showed up?" crap. Once he’d collected his money, he would be ready to leave the second he’d made his point, but he was furious to discover that Pedro wasn’t in the office. There was no way he’d be able to endure another day of this crap.
On seeing John hovering around, Sue decided to make polite conversation. “So, how long have you known Pedro?”
John shrugged. "Oh, it doesn’t matter. It’s a long story."
“Come on, tell me. Why not? I can just ask Pedro anyway.”
John sighed. “You do that.”
Sue stared at him for a few moments. “You don’t fool me, you know; maybe one day you’ll tell me all about it.”
He shrugged again, non-committal. "Maybe I will."
He’d never really spoken much with Sue, but now they’d broken the ice, he thought he’d make the most of it. “So you and Pedro… are you two… together?”
He expected her to answer – even if it was just to say no – but she just sat there, staring at him as the silence grew around them.
When he couldn’t take her gaze any more, he looked off to the right, seeing the less-than-impeccable kitchen. There were dishes in the sink and half-eaten food still left on the plates – he guessed Pedro wasn’t so neat in every area of his life.
Sue continued to observe John like he was a ticking bomb, which wasn’t entirely wrong.
With there still being no sign of Pedro, and as he was no longer able to stand the silence, John mumbled goodbye and left.
A few days later, they were both called into the office for a meeting with Pedro.
"Listen, you two."
Still revelling in his success after helping the police crack the murder case, Pedro’s intention was to praise John and Sue for their hard work, but the look on John’s fac
e told him that he must have found a chink in his armour. Had the stress begun to show?
Suddenly tongue-tied, Pedro decided to adopt a more assertive tone. “You did a great job on the murder case.” He cleared his throat. “But let’s not forget who’s the boss here: you follow my orders to the letter, or you can look for employment elsewhere. No exceptions.” He looked pointedly in John’s direction.
Trying to appear calm, John ran his hands roughly across his face as he stared back at his boss. "Is there an issue or something, Pedro?" he asked.
"No,” he answered, a half-smile on his face. I just like to keep the office in order."
Later that day, Sue also noticed that something was wrong. She noticed a lot of things – she was ambitious and was always looking for opportunities, so she kept her eyes open when others wouldn’t.
Suddenly, she looked up from what she was doing and started questioning John: How long had Pedro been in the country for? Was he really an Argentinian? What was his deal?
"Don’t ask me any questions,” replied John irritably. “Pedro is my boss and that’s just the way it is."
Sue stared at John. She’d never liked his attitude, and he wasn’t doing much to change her opinion of him now.
When she came into the office the following morning, she found Pedro whispering into the telephone, and upon seeing her, he flushed red and quickly hung up.
Soon after, Pedro made his excuses and left the office – apparently he had a meeting to go to. John wasn’t in yet, so as soon as her boss had left, Sue immediately went over to his phone and pressed redial. Going by the number, he’d been on a long-distance call to Argentina, but as John chose that moment to walk in, she didn’t find out any more about it.
It was getting towards lunchtime and the office was dead – there was just some paperwork to tidy up. Bored, John went down to get the late post, and when he came back upstairs he caught Sue going through Pedro’s filing cabinet. She sat back and shot him a look.
The Assassin's Keeper Page 19