Minions

by Addison, Garrett

  “Shouldn’t I be interested in how they are alike?” asked Devlin.

  “I’m not offering a discussion on the subject and frankly I don’t even care if you answer or not. But I’ll give you this for free. Glen’s not the bad guy, he’s just the most obvious common link between you all.”

  Whitely appeared to think things through a little. “Actually, fuck this. Fuck the questions. Glen needs you for his own conscience, just like he’s needed the others. Whether you turn out to be part of the problem or part of his absolution is entirely up to you. The messages I sent you were not intended to scare you, but were just a warning. If nothing else I wanted to make sure that you were aware of what you were getting yourself into.”

  The realisation came as a shock to Devlin. “Does this mean that you took my phone too?”

  “Well not me personally. I slipped some kid a little cash and told him he could keep the phone, provided he gave me the SIM card inside. If it’s any consolation, your phone was such a piece of shit I actually had to give him extra to keep it.”

  “But why take my phone?”

  The question silenced Whitely for a moment. “Did you believe the messages more because you understood their source?”

  “Perhaps. You know Ikel beat up Conrad because of the messages?”

  “Ikel,” Whitely sighed. “Glen will be disappointed. It won’t really matter now. It never does.”

  “What do you mean it never matters?” asked Devlin.

  Whitely looked clearly un-impressed at the question. “Glen gives you more credit than I think you’re worth.”

  “So you won’t help?”

  “There’s nothing to help. Ikel has his path, as do you, as had all of the others. Myself included.”

  “You’re not filling me with confidence!”

  “Frankly Devlin, I couldn’t give a shit about anything, your confidence or lack thereof included.” Whitely cast a disapproving eye over Reymond as he fossicked through the refuse in the room.

  “So what happens now?” Devlin asked.

  “Ask ‘em if you’ve got ‘em,” Whitely said with disinterest. “Try your luck.”

  Devlin fidgeted as he thought what he should ask. He thought about how odd it was that he’d had the entire drive to consider, and rehearse, such questions, but now he didn’t know where to start. He looked to Reymond, as if to indicate that he should take up the opportunity.

  “Tell me Whitely,” Reymond said as he settled himself into a chair. “Why would you say that Ikel is not dead? The indications that I have would suggest otherwise.”

  Whitely mocked. “If there was any genuine concern on your part, to say nothing of actual evidence, your visit would not be as a passenger to this idiot.”

  “Ikel’s missing and others…”

  “Who, pray tell, has formally listed him as missing?” Whitely interrupted as he juggled the remote control. “The guy’s got no family, I know this because that’s how it typically is with Glen and his monkeys.”

  “Alright. I’ll try that again,” Detective Reymond thought about re-posing. “In the immediate term I want to find him as the next of kin of his uncle, but Ikel’s absence comes hot after the death of another employee. Instinct tells me that I should be asking questions.”

  “So ask them!”

  “How’s this. David left a note for Ms Hinkley indicating that ‘Derrell was right’,” Reymond said, half reading from his notes. “I know the ‘Derrell’ in question also took his own life, but I’m not clear as to why.”

  Whitely thought for a while. “Detective, it’s not my place to say anything more.” He pointed to the door and turned to face the television. “Fuck off and leave me alone.”

  Chapter - 61.

  Angie all but dragged herself into her home after being dropped off outside. It was only 30 paces from the curb to her door, but she felt each step across her entire body. Once inside, too pained to be concerned as to the possibility of her not being alone, she slumped into her bed, after a momentary consideration of whether the couch was closer.

  Alone with her thoughts on her bed in the dark, she felt torn between wanting to turn on a light and continuing the peace of the darkness in the vain hope that she might sleep. The reality of it was that she knew she would never be able to sleep, she was too bruised, both physically and emotionally. If anyone was to ask her what hurt more, there would be no question that it would be the betrayal that now had her mind in an exhausted but perpetual spin.

  Nebojsa, she could handle. She’d put up with him for some time now, and while it wasn’t getting better, it wasn’t getting worse. She could see the light at the end of that tunnel; that he would lose interest when he became aware that she had nothing else to give. She hoped that he would come to this realisation sooner rather than later. But Devlin and Malcolm were a different matter. Devlin couldn’t hide behind ignorance or anonymity, he just didn’t want to help. And Malcolm. She expected more from Malcolm, more from her saviour. Why did Malcolm tell her that Devlin was one of the good guys, when he clearly had no desire to be anything other than an on-looker. As if she didn’t have enough of them already, and the mere thought of them caused her lip to sneer. The ‘friends’ who managed to keep their distance rather than get involved and then gradually disappeared from her life. The Police who took one look at her history and subsequently did their level best to bury her in a mass of bureaucracy. And then her family who had demonstrated a sordid mix of ambivalence and reluctance.

  It was odd that just thinking about her family made her think of the words of her father, ‘what goes around, comes around’. Her father had meant that good things come to those who are patient enough to wait, and as a child, rightly or wrongly, she’d found those words comforting. Malcolm too described those words as timeless.

  Chapter - 62.

  On return to the car, Reymond and Devlin were quiet. They both sucked in fresh air and contemplated what Whitely had said, but they felt no need to share any of their thoughts with each other. Reymond started the car and began to drive, and his offer of breath mints eased the air between them enough for them to communicate. “Based on what Whitely said, it might well be premature for me to have a professional interest in Ikel at this point.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought he’d be the best witness for you to make that call. Did he fill you with the same confidence when last you met him? And incidentally, which of the others on the list attracted you to him?”

  “None of them.” Reymond’s face softened, but he kept his eyes on the road ahead. “He was almost my son in law, but that seems like a lifetime ago.”

  “He doesn’t seem like the perfect son-in-law type.”

  “Aside from the fact that you don’t get to choose your son-in-law, he wasn’t always as he is now. My daughter loved him, and I was quite partial to him. He was a good partner and good father to my grandchild.”

  “Was he working for LastGasp’ then?”

  “No. That came after.”

  “After what?”

  “After my grand-daughter died. Cot-death. It was just something that happened. A healthy little girl, loved by all, but one morning she just didn’t wake up.” Reymond proved his reluctance to shed a tear as he retold an often repeated memory. “My daughter didn’t cope, and he struggled to keep it together himself.”

  “So Whitely and your daughter drifted apart?”

  “Officially, my daughter died of an overdose. Whitely and I were effectively taking it on shifts to console and support her. We didn’t realise she was suicidal and we kept tabs on her meds, but in the end we couldn’t stop a grown woman doing what she wanted to do.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. Whitely blamed himself and I blamed myself. We had nothing in common except blame, anger, and sadness, but it wasn’t enough to warrant feigning a friendship that wouldn’t sustain itself. After that, Whitely and I drifted apart. The depressants he was on lost him the spark tha
t made him good at his job and eventually he lost his job too. I kept my job only because by this stage I’d long since been passed over for promotion, but was in the unenviable position of having experience that was in demand.”

  “And then he joined LastGasp’?”

  “At the time I thought he was lucky just to secure employment, but it turned out to be pretty lucrative, even though he wasn’t there long. He owns that house, out-right, and it wasn’t always a shit-hole like it is now. A nice place, good street, good suburb. I periodically get involved officially. Pissed off neighbours wanting something done about him, but there’s amazingly little that can be done. The only reason that he hasn’t appeared on some tabloid current affairs show on TV is that would invariably drag down real estate prices, particularly when Whitely won’t be swayed. The real criminals are the ones who are systematically looking to force him out.”

  “But why is he … does he?”

  “Guilt. He feels responsible, and guilt drives people in different ways. But enough about Whitely.”

  Devlin took the hint that it was time to change the subject and his thoughts strayed to Whitely once more. “I’m just thinking it’s interesting that he’s the one who’s been sending me the messages.”

  “There’s an excellent talking point. What were these messages? I didn’t realise that your friend Ikel had a violent side.”

  “I don’t think it’s fair to describe him as violent. I’d say the messages amounted to provocation.”

  “So what are they?”

  “As soon as I joined LastGasp’, I started getting these text messages on my phone. Like Whitely said, they were intended as warnings, but they were un-nerving particularly when I didn’t know the sender. You’re welcome to read any that I’ve still got.”

  “I thought you’d be able to identify the message sender.”

  “So did I, but apparently not.” Devlin began to think more about what Whitely had said, looking for the pearl among the banter. This time he couldn’t identify any subtle message. “Detective. What was the most interesting thing that Whitely said?”

  “I thought it was interesting that he was so convinced that David would have died by suicide even when he wasn’t even there. Then I was surprised that he’d be interested not in David’s LastGasp’ message content, but in its recipient.” The Detective sighed. “Tania.”

  “You’re right. That got me too.” Devlin noted the mournful look on the Detective’s face, but was all the more intrigued in what Whitely had found so interesting. He thought of the last time that they’d met and his suggestion to find Malcolm. It was suddenly very interesting that Malcolm had appeared after visiting Tania. Far from being a ‘pearl of wisdom’, Devlin was confident that he’d at least found the oyster.

  “You know it was Whitely who suggested that I find Malcolm. ‘Find Malcolm and he’ll reveal all,’” Devlin waved his arms mockingly. “When I did meet him though, he told me nothing. And I only found out later that he started LastGasp’.” Devlin drifted off trying to recall every detail of his meeting with Malcolm. He decided he had nothing to lose in enlisting a little help. “What‘s going on?”

  The Detective reached under Devlin’s seat and produced his stack of printed reports. He handed them to Devlin without saying a word.

  Skim reading, Devlin quickly worked out what he’d been given. They weren’t in order, but recognising several of the names on the reports he gathered that they were all invariably from Glen’s list. The structure of the Police reports made them easy to read.

  The stack depleted, Devlin was more than a little seedy from reading amid the movement of the car, and frustrated that he was no wiser. “Does this mean that the Police cases are still open or are to be re-opened?”

  “No. There’s no case for them, any of them. Doing so would invariably cause more hurt for their families.”

  “So why did you give them to me to read?”

  “Technically I didn’t, and if you say I did I’ll deny it. But if you were to read them, you wouldn’t know any more than me. They didn’t help me either.” He reached to open the glove box, exposing another manila folder. “That might help you with background.”

  Devlin fingered through a series of hand written notes. “What are these?”

  “I took it upon myself to do a little research ‘on-line’,” Reymond emphasised his use of technology. “Impressed? Not bad for an old guy?”

  As he read, Devlin mentally tried to tie together the various police reports with the respective background notes, all the while thinking of the LastGasp’ Research Interface. “Can I assume that you’re taking me back to the office?”

  “Clearly you’re not impressed at my research. That’s fine. But if you read it, you’d see what I see.” Devlin took the hint to read a little more closely. “I want you to look for a pattern among them. I’ve been doing this for a long time, but I can’t see anything even similar in their backgrounds.

  “To answer your question, I’m prepared to take you back to your work, perhaps to find your friend Ikel waiting, but I’m hoping that you’ll lend your assistance.”

  “Doing what exactly?”

  “Something isn’t right, Devlin. You know it, and I know it. I’m not looking to rake over old coals, but I’d like to prevent anyone joining this list or becoming any other statistic. In so doing we might save someone’s life, maybe even yours.”

  “So were they suicides or not? You make it sound like there’s some doubt.”

  “There’s more to saving a life than just keeping a heartbeat.”

  Devlin accepted the veiled reference to Whitely. “So what are we going to do?”

  Chapter - 63.

  Tania’s stressed wait for the new landlord dragged on into the early evening. It wasn’t that she had anything better to do, but still. There was nothing on TV and after having put so much effort into tidying her home, she was reluctant to do anything more than re-use a single coffee mug.

  Inevitably, her thoughts turned to her long empty liquor cabinet. It was at times like these that traditionally she would turn to family or friends, no matter how distant or aloof they’d become, but that was no longer an option. Tim was, without question, her staunchest ally, but he couldn’t help now. Nor would her friends; what friends? She also felt the shallowing emptiness of recent abandonment by ‘Cat’, and the anger that accompanied it.

  * * *

  Malcolm watched Tania leave her apartment. She was muttering to herself as she always did, and he recognised the desperation in her walk as she crossed the road. The only question was whether she would head for the bar or the adjacent liquor store. The net effect would be the same of course. He closed his eyes and hoped as he watched her deliberate from outside on the footpath.

  He was disappointed with her choice, but the outcome would not change, only the timing.

  Chapter - 64.

  Devlin looked over his list of names as the Detective stopped off somewhere for a few take-away coffees while they came up with a plan. The old guy had a self-confessed aversion to drive-throughs and so opted for some dingy little café which he knew from experience. Devlin’s expectations as to the quality of the beverages was not high.

  “Thoughts?” the Detective asked on his return.

  “The names mean nothing to me. David was the only one I knew, but not well. Casey, Carson and Lawrence were mentioned in Whitely’s messages.”

  “Alright. Let’s start with them then,” said Reymond..

  Devlin separated the reports featuring names he recognised and began to read them more closely, thinking aloud as he read. “Alun and Derrell suicided, according to the reports, but Casey didn’t. So what’s special about him?”

  The Detective scanned his own notes. “He interested me the most too, if only because he was known to have some bad ties. Habitual gambler, sooner or later he was going to end up owing the wrong people. My guess is that he couldn’t pay up fast enough.”

  “That isn’t in the report
.”

  “The report is supposed to be objective. Associations can be hard to prove. Certainly no-one went down for his death, but maybe if they ever find the rest of him that will change.”

  Mention of associations prevented Devlin from asking for further, sure to be morbid, details. “Can we go for a drive? There’s someone I’d like to visit.”

  Chapter - 65.

  Conrad was not appreciative to see Devlin appear at his door with a guest. Devlin himself was expected, thanks to his call en-route, but not the company. The fact that he was clearly a Detective represented the real cause for concern. He saw the trouble flashing before his eyes, but for the moment he ignored the guest and kept focussed on what Devlin had asked. “I’ve got the matrix for Casey. I’ll need a moment longer to compare it with all the others.”

  “For the moment I just want Casey compared with Carson and Leon. This is Detective Reymond, you might have crossed paths before,” said Devlin as he made himself at home on the couch.

  “Sadly not. My past involvement with the Police does not entitle me to ongoing involvement.” Conrad hoped the subtle reference to ‘past’ would be enough to dissuade Devlin from showing his hand.

  “Devlin tells me that you’re something of a researcher. Researching what exactly?” asked Detective Reymond

  “Nothing specific. I look for patterns in people and their relationships.” Conrad kept it generic and without anything that could be played against him.

  “He also tells me that you tried to warn him. So what has he got to worry about?”

  Conrad left his comfort zone at the keyboard to engage the Detective as best as he could. He explained as much as he knew, but fell short of explaining his sources. It occurred to him that technically this is what he wanted, formal interest in LastGasp’.