The Redemption Man

by James Carver

  Then Stevens heard the whip of rotary rings and looked up see the beam of a searchlight far off. Quickly he grabbed his radio and tuned into the air-to-ground frequency.

  “This is the incident commander, Deputy Stevens, over.” There was a long continuous hiss, then a whine and finally a voice.

  “Deputy Stevens, this is the new shift coming on.”

  “Thank God. I got nothing from the last crew.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that, the radio system was malfunctioning. We’ve had technical assistance, and now good to go. We’re heading up to the north ridge to check out the heat signature the previous crew got.”

  “What heat signature?” There was a silence before the next reply. This wasn’t going to be good. Silence was never good.

  “The other guys said they called it in with one of your boys. Looks like there’s someone hiding in a wood shack up toward Tar Ridge. It’s in the middle of a clearing, otherwise we wouldn’t have picked it up. A guy called Miller took the details. Said he’d pass them on.”

  Sons of bitches, thought Stevens, they kept me in the dark. They’re trying to get to Earl before me. Why would they do that? To get the glory? To deliberately undermine him? Undermine all Stevens’s work?

  “Which direction is it?”

  “Keep going northeast and look for our searchlight.”

  Stevens took Gray and a few other officers from the line and broke off toward Tar Ridge. He had one objective now: beat Walker and Miller to Earl.

  31

  It was like a ghost town in the middle of Halton Springs. Nine thirty at night, everyone locked up in their homes and not a police cruiser to be seen. Shops shut up, bars empty, and the streets deserted. Deserted except for Devlin and Fox, who were parked over the road from Halton Medical Center.

  Although it was a fine thing indeed for big organizations like Freedom and Logan Enterprises to have given to the town, in truth the actual building was a very modest affair: a one-story, flat-roofed brick building painted gray. There were two turquoise awnings over the front window to give a bit of color, and a ramped entrance to the small sliding glass doors. But it was cheaply built and functional.

  Devlin wore black gloves and a black jacket, shirt, and pants. He’d gotten a crowbar out of his trunk and held it discreetly down by his side. Fox wondered if Devlin was allergic to anything but black. Sure, black suited him and was practical for the task ahead of them, but she felt sure he was missing out on a whole wardrobe of other colors. She was in sneakers, a hooded rain jacket, jeans, and a sweater with her hair tied back. She was also nervous as hell, but she wasn’t the type to ever show it. If she ever felt nervous, she just put on an even more confident front.

  “Okay, Batman, how do we get in?”

  “Round the back,” replied Devlin.

  At the rear of the medical center were two much smaller windows and a couple of white electrical boxes mounted on the wall. The building backed onto a deserted parking lot, which in turn backed onto a park.

  “That’s the best way in.” Devlin pointed with his crowbar to the window nearest them. “No one’s overlooking us, and the parking lot’s empty.”

  Fox sized up the small window. “No wonder you couldn’t get in. I’m not sure I can.”

  Devlin ran his eyes up and down Fox’s body. “Yes you can. And you’ll need to keep your hood up when you’re inside. There’ll be CCTV.”

  “What are you gonna do?” Devlin took out an old Yankees baseball cap from his jacket pocket and pulled the brim down.

  “Stylish,” said Fox.

  “When you get in, you’ll be in the restroom. As you come out of the restroom, there’ll be a hallway to your right leading back to the lobby and a rear hallway straight ahead of you. Take the rear hallway. Halfway along is an emergency exit you can open from the inside by pushing down on the bar. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “Good. One other thing. Soon as I break the window, the alarm will go off.”

  “What?”

  “There was always gonna be an alarm, Fox. The place has prescription drugs.”

  “But what if someone comes?”

  “No one investigates an alarm these days. Trust me. People just don’t want to get involved. And on a night when a murderer is on the loose? If anything the alarm will keep civilians away ’cause the police are all tied up out of town.”

  Fox wasn’t sure whether to believe Devlin’s line about no one investigating alarms anymore. She suspected it was more to give her false reassurance. But he said it with such authority, she let it go without argument.

  Devlin took another look around for safety and walked over by the chosen window. It was about five feet off the ground with metal struts dividing it into four panes of frosted glass. He took out a roll of duct tape from his jacket and covered the lowest right-hand pane.

  “Jeez, you really came prepared. A regular Boy Scout. You learn this when you were an agent?”

  “No. When I was a teenager up in Vermont. You had to make your own fun back then.”

  “You get caught?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So you stopped?”

  “So I got better.”

  “It’s a wonder you ever made a priest.”

  “People who say they’ve never sinned got no business preaching to sinners.”

  Devlin took one more look around and began to punch at the pane with the crowbar. Soon as the glass behind the tape gave, the alarm sounded. But Devlin didn’t change pace. He kept his nerve and went methodically about the work of breaking in. Once the window had shattered, he was able to take the pane out in more or less one piece which had been held together by the tape. He cleared the bits of glass around the edge of the smashed window and stood back. Fox looked at the size of the gap.

  “I’m not Keira Knightley, you know.”

  “You can do it. You hold your breath, and I’ll hold your legs.”

  “Shit.”

  Fox took a pair of gloves out of her jacket pocket and put them on. She extended her hands and arms through the gap, tucking her head in and wriggling so her shoulders and chest would pass. Her waist was a little easier, but her hips and ass took some maneuvering. Devlin had ditched the crowbar and held her legs so she kept her balance. She could feel how easily and deftly he supported her while she worked her way through the opening. Finally she was in except for her legs and feet. Inside the alarm was deafening. Her hands felt their way down the inside wall. With Devlin still holding her, she was able to look up, and though it was dark, she could now see her surroundings. She was in a bathroom stall. Great, thought Fox, I’m breaking in through the john.

  She walked her hands down onto the toilet seat and called back to Devlin over the siren.

  “You can let go now.”

  Devlin fed the last part of her legs and feet through. Fox’s feet slipped along the wall down to the ground, and she stood up. Relief. She was in. Now to get Devlin in. She turned on her cell phone flashlight and made her way out of the restroom. She found herself at the meeting point of two hallways. Above her were yellow lights flashing in tandem with the alarm.

  Fox walked straight ahead, taking the rear hallway, and, like Devlin had said, she found a red emergency exit door halfway along and pushed the release bar down. The door swung outward, and Fox was met by the cool night air and a view over the parking lot. She put her head out and was about to call to Devlin when he appeared right in front of her.

  “Fuck,” exclaimed Fox. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  “We’re the burglars, remember. We’re not the ones who should be surprised.” Devlin pushed inside and shut the door behind him. “Okay. You go,” Devlin shouted over the alarm.

  “What?” Fox yelled back.

  “That’s all I need you for. Go!”

  “But I just…!”

  “I promised you you wouldn’t get caught, but only if you do what I say. Now get out of here.”

  “I wanna stay.”

&n
bsp; “What?”

  “I wanna help!”

  “Great. I had to plead with you to do this, and now you won’t go?”

  “I’m a part of this now, whether you like it or not.”

  “I don’t like it…” Devlin hadn’t factored Fox’s unpredictability in, but he knew time was of the essence. Now was not the time to fall out. “Okay. Follow me!”

  They raced back to the point where the two hallways met, sweeping their flashlights ahead of them as they went. Then they turned left and headed to the lobby. Devlin ran by the receptionist desk with Fox close behind and rounded the corner into another hallway. This one led from the lobby back along the other side of the building, and Lazard’s office was one of the rooms off of it. All the office doors had plates screwed on with the names of medics and doctors. About two-thirds of the way down, Devlin found the door with Dr. Lazard’s name on it.

  Devlin tried the handle. It was locked. He stepped back and shouldered it a few times until the lock busted and the metal latch splintered the wooden doorframe. He pushed the door and it swung open. Before them was Lazard’s office. It consisted of a desk up against the wall, a couple of metal-framed chairs, a stainless steel cabinet with medical wipes and sterilizing hand pumps, weighing scales, and an examination table.

  Devlin entered the office and set about wrenching and cracking the four desk drawers open with the crowbar.

  “You check that side, I’ll check this side.” Devlin lifted out the contents of the top left-hand drawer. He placed them on the floor and sifted through writing pads, prescription pads, free clinic information leaflets, phone chargers, and cigarette lighters. But there was nothing of use. Nothing personal.

  “Hey,” yelled Fox. “I got his desk planner. Should we take it?”

  “Yeah. Anything else?”

  “Nah. Just medical information leaflets and cartons of Dunhill cigarettes. Jesus, who smokes Dunhill anymore?”

  Devlin pulled out the contents of the second drawer, and in it was the orange plastic folder. The one Lazard had been so keen to keep out of Devlin’s sight. Devlin picked it up and tucked it in his jacket.

  “What’s that?” asked Fox.

  “Something Lazard didn’t want me to see, so it’s coming with us. Let’s get out of here.”

  Within two minutes they’d exited the building through the emergency exit door and were back in the car. Devlin hit the gas and they rode off, the alarm fading away as they put distance between them and the clinic. Job done and not a cop to be seen.

  “Congratulations, Fox. As of right now you’re a professional burglar.”

  “Yeah. Now I see the attraction. You know, Lazard may well guess it’s you who broke in.”

  “Good. About time I lit a fire underneath some asses round here. Now maybe they’ll quit being so shy and start coming to me.”

  32

  Stevens was frantic and speeding as fast as he dared through the dark, dense woodland following the lead of his flashlight. The other officers were trying to keep up with him.

  Stevens had to get there first. But with the head start Walker and Miller had, it would need a miracle to beat them to it. Bastards. Bastards. He couldn’t lose this one. He had to make sure it was handled right. It meant everything to Stevens. If they got there first, he feared the worst.

  Walker and Miller had been following their compasses and hoping that they hadn’t veered too far off track. Then they saw the new shift from Wright Patterson fly over in the direction of what had to be the ridge. More certain now of where they were going, the two men quickened their pace.

  Earl came to abruptly. He had drifted off to sleep and awoken cold and terrified. It had gotten so dark, so black, he had trouble seeing more than a few feet in front of his face. And then a terror came over him. Why had he woken? Had there been a sound of some sort? He crept to the mouth of the shack and looked out. He scanned back and forth but could make out no definite shapes in the shadows outside. He crawled out of the shelter and stood and looked up at the sky. It was beautiful. The clearest of skies. There were so many stars. He could see the opaque wisps of the Milky Way and make out the North Star. For the first time in his life, he was able to lose himself in the night, in something else. Able to take peace from the knowledge that the universe had existed for billions of years without him and would go on existing billions of year after he had vanished. In the last twenty-four hours, something extraordinary had happened. His heart had been freed. The air was sweet and clear, his body and mind light and magical.

  Earl heard the sound of helicopter blades, and this time they were getting nearer very fast. Like it was traveling in a straight line to him. Like they knew exactly where their target was.

  Then Earl heard a twig snap, and before he could turn, a hard, cold barrel jabbed into the back of his head. He stood still, not daring to make a sudden move. There was no voice from the owner of the gun, just heavy, determined breaths. Probably a nervy cop, thought Earl. Spooked and psyched that they’d got to him first. A cop now waiting anxiously for backup to help with Earl Logan, the legendary thug of Halton Springs. Earl was happy to accept his fate whatever that might be, his just punishment for a life of sins.

  He closed his eyes and put his hands high in the air and said, “You come to take me in? I won’t put up a fight.”

  He waited for an answer and thought about the sparrowhawk up above and imagined himself up there too, insensible and free. He thought of the bald eagles he used to see when he’d come to Long Pine. Imagined his soul in their stomachs, running through their veins, powering their wings and thoughts. Up high, high above Halton Springs, free and untethered from its soil, free and untethered from his life.

  “Hey!” barked Earl impatiently. “Are you gonna arrest me or what?”

  But no one replied.

  Then darkness fell like a hammer.

  33

  By the time Devlin and Fox got to Devlin’s motel room, it was midnight. Despite the late hour, adrenaline from the break-in kept their minds and bodies going. Fox had thrown off her shoes and laid out on the bed on her front reading through Lazard’s planner. Devlin sat beside her as she turned the pages, looking over her shoulder.

  Lazard’s spidery handwriting filled the days of the planner, a mass of dark webs of ink that obsessively recorded his movements and appointments. Times were meticulously noted so no minute was lost, as if, at some future point, he intended to charge someone for his time based on this document. Most of the days were blocked out with some kind of appointment. Tuesdays to Thursdays had “HMC” written down and the exact times of arrival and departure. Devlin and Fox assumed this must be the Halton Medical Center. Then there were flights to LA, London, and Mumbai marked down every few weeks with corresponding flight numbers and times and Lazard’s appointments in those locations. But many of the days spent in Halton Springs simply had the words “Logan Ranch” written alongside “HMC” or on their own with a beginning and end time.

  “According to this,” said Devlin, “he gets to the ranch at 18:30 nearly every night and leaves at 2:00 in the morning. That’s a long day on top of his duties at the center. What the hell is he doing there?”

  They both cast their eyes over the dates for the next few days, and all of them had either “HMC” written down and/or “Logan Ranch.” Then the established pattern came to an abrupt end on Friday, which had the letter J written by it but, unusually, without a time. Beyond that, for the next week there were no entries in the planner until the following Friday which again had one word noted down, “Mumbai,” without a flight number or time.

  “What do you make of that, Devlin?”

  “I want to know what’s happening up on the ranch that’s taking up so much of his time, and I want to know what it is that causes such an established pattern over several months to suddenly stop.”

  Devlin went over to the chair by the window and picked up the plastic folder he’d taken from Lazard’s drawer. He sat, opened it, and started to read t
hrough the documents inside.

  “What is it?” asked Fox.

  “It’s someone’s medical notes. Pretty damned detailed medical notes. I mean, there’s blood pressure, pulse, BMI, height, and weight, the normal measurements you’d take. Then there’s urine analyses and ECG results—again pretty normal. But then there’s pages of other tests.” Devlin flicked through. “A DMSA scan for the kidneys, ERCP results… That’s for the pancreas, I think.”

  “You sound like you know about that stuff?”

  “Yeah. I was pararescue when I first went into the Air Force. We were trained in trauma care, kind of a military ER. We were dropped into places to recover and treat injured people. It’s a long time ago now, and not exactly second nature, but this is still familiar territory.”

  Devlin flicked back to the front page. “That’s odd…”

  “What?”

  “I can’t find a name on here. There’s nothing that says who these tests belong to. Looks like the front page is missing.” Devlin checked back in the document folder, but it was empty. He put the documents back in the folder and dropped them into his lap. He sat back in his chair and breathed slowly and deeply. His head dropped and his mind started to tick away under its own tired but steady momentum. His thoughts sifted through ideas and fragments of fact in an effortful search to make connections.

  Fox was lying down, still idly flicking through Lazard’s planner and only partly paying attention to Devlin. Her fatigue had started to cause her attention to wander, so she sat up, drew her knees up under her chin, and wrapped her arms around her legs. She spotted Devlin’s cell phone lying by her on the bed. She picked it up and flashed up the home screen. The background picture was a very attractive brunette in her twenties.