Out of Promises

by Simon Leigh

  ‘Can you please stop calling me that? It’s degrading.’

  He let out a long winded huff. ‘You sure are moody today.’

  Louder than she wanted, she said, ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  People looked over.

  He held up his hands as an apology before she started again. ‘You need to eat, Val. You don’t know where your next meal will come from.’

  He was right and she knew it. She had to try and eat. He was kind enough to help and she wanted to try and make it work, knowing that without him she wouldn’t have come this far.

  Forcing herself, she dug the fork through the layers of meat and cheese, stuffing it into her mouth. The savouriness mixed with the tomatoes and creamy sauce woke her senses. She wanted more.

  Bill smiled. ‘So how long have you been with the organization?’

  She ignored him.

  ‘You got a boyfriend?’

  She flicked her eyes up at him, still not answering.

  ‘You want to talk about what happened with Dave?’

  God dammit.

  ‘You know what happened!’ she snapped, dropping the fork on the plate. More glances came from other tables. ‘We’ve been through this already. That fat waste of space, as Ada called him, was treating this whole thing like a joke.’

  ‘Ada was a dead end, wasn’t she? Though I do wonder who killed Harry.’

  ‘Think she was right and he was murdered?’

  ‘Yeah, I don’t think it was the ramblings of a grieving widow.’ He took a sip of wine. ‘This wine is delicious. You should try some.’

  Shaking her head, she drank some water. ‘Wonder why nobody took any notice of her.’

  ‘Probably because they don’t see it as a case. They’d have to re-open the case files and get officers on it they don’t have. He crashed while under the influence apparently. Open shut case.’

  ‘Open shut to who? Ada doesn’t think so.’

  A waiter came over and refilled her water.

  ‘You were a cop, Bill. Tell me, do the cops make a habit of ignoring people?’

  He didn’t like that question. It was offensive. He’d spent a long time on the force and planned to dedicate his life doing anything he could to fight crime, so the suggestion that the police ignore people was insulting, though he couldn’t deny it happened. ‘Hey, come on. I never ignored anyone. Especially a damsel in distress.’

  ‘Why’d you leave the force?’ she asked. ‘You do something bad?’

  ‘It’s personal.’

  She watched him.

  He asked, ‘You don’t trust me, do you?’

  ‘It’s nothing personal.’

  ‘Who says I trust you?’ he said light heartedly.

  Holding her glass in her hand, she looked over to him. ‘Who says you do?’

  He smiled again. ‘So tell me about yourself, Val. Let me get to know you a bit more.’

  ‘There’s nothing to tell.’

  ‘There’s always something. What about your childhood?’

  ‘Like I said, there’s nothing to tell. Just drop it.’

  He held his tongue and let her eat.

  Customers came in and a chill wafted through the restaurant.

  ‘Winter’s here,’ he said.

  ‘Let me ask you one thing,’ she said.

  ‘Go for it.’

  ‘Why are you helping me? I don’t see there’s anything you can possible gain from this. I’m not paying you.’

  He grinned broadly. ‘I’d hate to see something bad happen to such a pretty lady.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  ‘So you got any ideas what we do now?’ he asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘We could try the church? Daylight might give us a fresh perspective.’

  The church. The place it all started to go wrong for her. She stopped eating for a second. She really didn’t want to see that place again, knowing it would be with her forever. It would pass into a distant memory eventually, but it would still be there, affecting her decisions for the rest of her life.

  This time she had Bill with her.

  ‘All right. But not for long, OK?’

  Files were spread over the desk and pinned to notice boards. Pictures of Matherson’s family tree littered the walls beside maps and addresses.

  Standing loyally beside his master’s wheelchair, the scarred man waited patiently in a daydream thinking of Valerie.

  ‘Cyrus,’ his master said. ‘I want you and Lenka to find Valerie and Bill. They’ve gone off the radar.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Yes, I want Valerie’s body on a slab.’

  Cyrus didn’t want to kill Valerie – that was one order he would never follow. He wanted her for himself. ‘Yes, sir. I’ll go and find her right away. What shall I do with Bill?’

  ‘Bring him in, we need him.’

  With a nod, he walked out of the room.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Promising snow clouds overshadowed Saint Patrick’s church as it towered over the neighbouring houses.

  On Valerie’s suggestion, and because they didn’t know who or what to expect, Bill had parked a street away to reduce the amount eyes that would see his licence plate.

  Valerie felt different now. The daylight had altered her perception changing the church from something menacing to more of the kind of place she came to expect.

  But it was still, and always will be, the place she found her friend’s body.

  News vans were bunched together on the field to the left and the police cordon was still being guarded by an officer while men in white moved back and forth from the church.

  A sign above the church door said:

  The fool hath said in his heart - there is no God, psalm 53.

  Not something she personally believed in. She smiled thinking of Freddie with his usual complaints: ‘What a load of shit.’ It annoyed her, but she missed it.

  She asked Bill, ‘Is your friend here?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘The one who told you about the revolver.’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ Bill pointed at one of the officers manning the barrier at the road. ‘We used to work together on the force.’

  ‘How long were you cop?’

  ‘Long enough. Shall we go?’

  Bill took the lead, greeted with a smile from Officer ‘Columbo’ Anderson.

  Bill held out a hand as he walked towards him. ‘Columbo, how you been? Thought you’d be behind a desk by now.’

  He took Bill’s hand. ‘Can’t beat being on the streets, Bill. How’ve you been? We’ve missed you on the force.’

  Bill looked hurt, reliving some emotional pain from his past. ‘Yeah, can’t protect everybody.’ He introduced Valerie, ‘This is Sarah, a client.’

  Columbo stretched a hand to her.

  She took it. ‘So you’re Bill’s inside man?’

  ‘Huh?’

  Bill cleared his throat. ‘Mind if we go in and have a look? Sarah here knew the victim.’

  ‘Afraid not, Bill. It’s not a place for people to be snooping around just yet. Maybe you could speak with Father McGregor, he’s in that house over there.’ He pointed to Irene Hex’s home.

  Relief swooped over Valerie, thankful she didn’t have to see that place again.

  ‘Thanks, Columbo,’ said Bill.

  Half way across the road, Valerie stepped in front of Bill, stopping him. ‘What the hell was that back there?’

  ‘Nothing.’ He walked past her.

  ‘Looked to me like he didn’t know what you were talking about. Did he really tell you about the revolver?’

  ‘Valerie, just drop it. Some things should be left alone, OK? We’re on the same side, don’t get paranoid on me.’

  Perhaps she was being paranoid, but she had good reason to be.

  Not wanting a fight, she left it, though she didn’t forget it.

  They walked through the gate to Irene Hex’s home. One thing Valerie’s apartment missed was a
garden and, although she appreciated the effort people went through to keep them looking as magnificent as this one, it wasn’t her.

  Bill accidentally stepped on some overhanging shrubs by the side of the path.

  Valerie said, ‘Watch your step. We’re being watched.’

  Glancing along the path to a window, some white hair floated inside. ‘What?’ he said. ‘She’s got plenty more flowers to look at.’

  Irene opened the door before they had chance to knock.

  Bill reached into his pocket to show his ID. ‘Irene Hex? My name is Bill Yates. I’m here to speak with Father McGregor about the incident this morning.’

  With her top lip slightly raised, she looked him up and down disapprovingly and said with a slightly annoyed tone, ‘I see. Please come inside.’ She moved aside, keeping her eyes on him.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said and walked through to the living room.

  Irene stopped Valerie at the door and waited for Bill to leave their sight. ‘He can’t be trusted, you know. Keep away from that one.’

  Valerie just smiled, taking it as the ramblings of a crazy old lady.

  They walked into the living room to find the haunted and pale face of Father McGregor staring into space on the sofa.

  Valerie looked around, amazed at the overbearing floral décor.

  Jesus.

  ‘Father McGregor, my name is Bill Yates. I’m a private investigator, this is Sarah Smith. She knew Freddie.’

  He looked up at her, a ghost of his former self. ‘I am so sorry for your loss, how may I help you?’

  ‘We would just like to ask you a few questions.’

  Irene walked into the room with a tray, glaring at Bill.

  ‘Let me help you with that,’ Bill offered.

  ‘No, thank you,’ she replied, setting the tray down.

  Father McGregor said, ‘I’ve been asked some questions already this morning.’

  Irene put a cup of tea in front of him. He ignored it and sat back in the chair with his hands in his pocket.

  Bill said, ‘Would it be all right if we asked you a few more? For our own investigation?’

  McGregor looked odd, like he’d just remembered something. Pulling his hands from his pockets, he held an item. ‘Oh my. I completely forgot about this. I found it in the church this morning.’

  ‘May I have a look?’ asked Bill.

  McGregor handed it over.

  ‘This is a lock pick,’ said Bill. ‘May we take this?’

  ‘I really should give it to the police.’

  Irene snatched it from Bill’s hands, handing it back to Father McGregor, who placed it on the coffee table.

  Beaten by an old lady.

  Father McGregor asked, ‘Do you have anything else you would like to ask?’

  Valerie wanted to ask a question. ‘Did you know Freddie?’

  ‘Not personally, but I knew Lucy. She spoke of Freddie fondly. She still loved him, but couldn’t forgive him for what had happened.’

  Valerie nodded, taking it all in.

  ‘Please excuse me,’ he said. ‘I must use the bathroom.’

  ‘OK, Father, we must be going now anyway,’ said Bill.

  Valerie whispered, ‘What?’

  ‘Bear with me,’ he whispered back.

  They shook hands and he handed Father McGregor a business card. ‘Please call me if you think of anything else.’

  At the front door, Bill said, ‘Thank you, Mrs Hex,’ and left.

  Irene said nothing to him, watching until he’d left her property before closing the door.

  ‘Looks like you made a new friend,’ Valerie said.

  Back in the car, they sat in silence for a few minutes watching the world go by. As usual, Valerie was full of questions.

  ‘Before you start, I had good reason to leave that house.’

  ‘What possible reason? He knew Lucy. I wanted to know more.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but after this is all over you can ask him. We had to leave.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because of this,’ he said, bringing out the lock pick.

  ‘You stole from a man of God? Bill, you’re going to hell.’

  ‘I’m going there anyway. It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever done.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘I’ll tell you one day. Right now we need to go to Fosters and Co.’ He showed her the engraving. ‘See, this was found in the church and could be from the man who shot Freddie. Unless you think it was Freddie’s?’

  ‘No. We never use them.’

  ‘Well then. I know you disagree with how I do things, but it hasn’t hurt us so far has it?’

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  Tucked away on a side street and hidden from the hustle of everyday life, Fosters and Co. was one of very few arms dealers left in town.

  At 16:00, Valerie and Bill walked through the door to the sound of a cheerful high pitched bell, out of place with the chilly mood of the store. Valerie had never been in a place like this before as Matherson supplied what she needed in that respect, usually by a drop off point in an isolated area.

  They passed thick glass cabinets full of various rifles, machine guns, and accessories. The handguns were kept in another glass cabinet which doubled as the counter, mainly housing revolvers. The walls were green with signs that said: Ammunition and Ten Day Waiting Period.

  A small, balding fifty something man with glasses and a brown wool tank top leaned on the opposite side of the counter reading what looked like a guns n’ ammo magazine.

  Bill walked up to him, checking out his nametag. ‘Hello, Fraser.’

  Keeping his head down, he lifted his eyes over his glasses. ‘Hi, what can I do for you? ’

  Bill placed the lock pick on the counter. ‘Do you know who that belonged to?’

  Fraser looked at him like he was stupid. ‘Could be anybody. We sell more than one of some things.’

  Bill showed his ID. ‘Could you find out for me?’

  ‘I could, but you would have to explain why.’

  ‘This is evidence in a murder enquiry,’ said Valerie. ‘Find out who it belonged to please.’

  Fraser’s brow was moist and a bead of sweat came through, not enough to notice on a normal day, but with the store’s light shining down, it stood out like rain on a window.

  He said, ‘Won’t be easy.’

  Leaning over the counter, Valerie said, ‘Are you involved somehow?’

  ‘What?’

  Bill interrupted, ‘The eagle must be a rare thing people ask for, don’t you reckon?’

  ‘No, I don’t reckon. We’ve sold plenty in the past. It’s a nice design and one of our top sellers.’

  ‘All right, so how about checking the serial number?’ He took it from Fraser’s hand and pointed at the numbers embedded on the underside. They were small, but not unreadable. ‘Look, see how easy that would be?’

  ‘I’ll have a look, but it could take some time. Do you know when it was purchased?’

  ‘Not a clue.’

  ‘All right, give me a minute. The computer’s in the back.’

  He left them and walked through a door at the rear of the shop.

  Valerie looked around. A camera was watching them. ‘I don’t trust him, Bill.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  Excitement grew inside of Cyrus like an itch he couldn’t scratch. Combine that with the thought of what treasures lay ahead and he was left gagging for more of what he felt in the church.

  The most frustrating thing was coming to Valerie’s door only to find it locked.

  After checking his pockets for his picklock, which he couldn’t find, he stepped back, looked around to make sure the area was safe, and forced his foot into the door to reveal her living room.

  He scurried in, closing the door behind him.

  Breathless, with a wide smile across his face, he stood against the door, proud of himself for getting into Valerie Lambert’s apartment.

  Her mail sat at his fe
et, which he picked up.

  What’s Valerie been up to?

  It was mainly bills and advertising flyers, but one letter took his eye that just had her address – no name. Inside was a piece of paper with the numbers: five, five, five, six, five, three, and seven. With no clue as to the meaning, he pocketed it and made a move for a better look around.

  The room that interested him the most was the bedroom, so that’s where he started.

  Standing in front of her bed, he imagined having sex with her in front of the large mirror. With a huge smirk, he moved to her chest of drawers where he found fragrance bottles standing in a neat line surrounded by makeup. Lifting one to his nose, the sweet, fruity smell made him crazy. He pocketed that with the letter and turned his attention to her drawers where he found the mother lode: her underwear, sending his mind into overdrive.

  I could do things to her.

  He pocketed some of that, too, adding to his growing list of items.

  Next came her closet, begging to be opened.

  There was very little inside: two sweaters and a black blouse as well as a long, low cut, red dress which he brought out and laid it on the bed. Standing and watching for a moment, he was hypnotized by the beauty he could see in his mind.

  For now, he turned away and entered her bathroom.

  The shower took up most of the room and he thought of her naked, washing herself in hot soapy water.

  With his excitement just about on tipping point, he searched the medicine cabinet above the sink, looking at himself through the long mirror on the wall. This, he found, tipped him over the edge. He turned around and walked back into the bedroom to the red dress on the bed. Unbuckling his belt, pulled down his pants and masturbated on her bed.

  After he’d finished and felt satisfied, he left everything where it was and began a search in the living room for info on Matherson. He searched her cupboards and found nothing. He searched her drawers and found nothing. Her place was just boring to him now and he felt annoyed that he didn’t have the thing he wanted most: Valerie.

  Where have you gone?

  Her gun was on the coffee table, a Beretta. He picked it up, emptied the clip and put it in his other pocket.

  Eventually, after searching anywhere he could think of, he gave up and left the apartment.