Dead Man Walking

by Quinn Buckland

  I don’t know if she intended for me to hear her comment, but I do. I ignore it and kneel down to help her. I only just get to my knees when the telephone starts ringing. I stand, but Genevieve places her hand on my chest.

  “I’ll get it,” she says. “You get yourself prepared for work.”

  She rushes to her desk and picks up the telephone. I walk to the bathroom and clean my face. From there, I can hear Genevieve speak. “Baxter’s Detective Agency.” She pauses to let the client talk as I leave the latrine. I look over to her, and her face goes sour. “Thomas, it’s the Ares Corporation. They’re asking if you’re here.”

  I recall Thomas’s memories of the Ares Corporation and how he feels about them. While he has no love for the corporation, he is usually willing to take a job from them when the number of clients dries up. Thomas looks to be going through a bit of a dry spell.

  “I’ll take it, Genevieve,” I say, grabbing the horn from her. “Private Detective, Thomas Baxter.”

  “Mister Baxter, this is Captain Gregory Holland. We have a case for you, one that requires immediate action.”

  “I see.”

  “A man has been killed at the Connelly Theater.”

  “Oh dear.” I try to make myself care about what’s happening, but Thomas’s baser instincts take over, and his indifference flows through me.

  The man on the other end makes a sound; I don’t think he’s too happy about Thomas’s tone. “I need you to head down there and give Lieutenant Liddell a hand figuring it out. We’ll pay you your usual rate and a bonus if you figure it out sooner rather than later. You understand?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Good. Get moving. Lieutenant Liddell will brief you on what’s happened.”

  “I’ll be on my way right away.”

  He says something I don’t hear and hangs up. Genevieve gives me an inquisitive gaze. “What’s happening?”

  I clear my throat and move to the coat rack. I drape my jacket over myself and put my hat on my head. All these clothes for so few reasons.

  “There’s been a murder at the Connelly Theater. They need me there right away.”

  I don’t show my surprise when Genevieve doesn’t react to what I’m saying. Instead, she walks over to me and helps me straighten my jacket collar.

  “I suppose you’re not going to get yourself cleaned up or stop to eat at the very least.”

  I sniff myself, and I realize I reek of hooch. I don’t care; I don’t have time to waste, there’s a case and good lettuce on the line.

  “I’ll grab a bite after,” I say. “You don’t usually want a full gut with a dead body.”

  I leave the office not knowing that this case would be the very one where I meet Dorothy. My mind reels from the story. The man, the human Thomas Baxter, never knew Dorothy; only the doppelganger knew who she was.

  ***

  After three months, Thomas has started to take over my mind. I find myself thinking more like him and forgetting about my heritage. I groan and sit up. Dorothy has been stonewalling me as of late. Every time I make a romantic pass at her, she laughs it off and we pitch woo without emotions.

  The problem is, I’m not dizzy for the dame. I like her well enough, and I enjoy our bedroom activities, but I don’t love her. I start questioning my mission and ask myself if it’s the right course of action for me to take. I have to find another body regardless. It wouldn’t be hard for Thomas Baxter to disappear for a spell if not for good.

  It would be easy, except I found I’ve developed quite the conscience. Thomas’s memories, experiences and personality have taken root, and I doubt I can break them. To shapeshift is to kill a person, and nobody deserves to die in such a way.

  I’ve considered shifting to look like a prisoner in the local hoosegow, find the body of a natural killer. But the problem then remains the same; I take over the person, down to their personality. It no longer becomes a question of killing someone for a body, but also those I’d harm in said body.

  After some consideration, I decide to remain as Thomas Baxter. He may be a low-down drunk whose fate is to die poor and alone, but it’s a better fate than some will get. I suppose that’s better than what I, as a doppelganger, deserve. Especially since I only have nine years and nine months left to survive at most. Thomas Baxter, the man, is dead and will never be found. Thomas Baxter, the shifter, will die and none will miss him. I’ll continue to drink and smoke and fight. It’ll make my inevitable early death seem all the more plausible.

  Not that Thomas’s body would give me a choice in the matter anyway.

  Four and half months in Thomas Baxter’s body, I eventually wake up not knowing who or what I am. All I know is I’m Thomas Baxter, I have a lot of work to do, and the hangover I’m suffering through is one of my worst.

  Chapter 24

  The End

  My mind is returned to me and I remember everything. I take a step back from Liddell, Howard and Moses, tears streaking down my face.

  “No,” I say, my voice hoarse and gravelly. “That’s not real. You’re playing games with my head. I never should have allowed you to do that.”

  Howard approaches me. “Brother, I’m sorry, but it’s all true. We didn’t even know what happened to you.”

  “It wasn’t until we tested the essence from some of the bones that we discovered who you were,” Liddell explains. “We had to watch you closely. We had to be sure the case you were on could potentially lead you to us. It took much longer than we expected; people want actual coppers to solve their big cases, not a lowly flatfoot.”

  “The case with Ruth Sutton,” I say. “How much of that were you?”

  Howard lowers his head. “I followed Howard for a week after you located him. Liddell, Moses and I all talked it over, and we decided this was the best way to get you into the fold, but forgetting who you are proved to be problematic. You see, we couldn’t just tell you. There’s no way you’d have believed us. So I had to take Howard’s form.”

  “What made you think Helen would ask me to help?”

  “Your business card,” Moses says. “You gave one to Howard.”

  “All I had to do was vanish and leave your card on the table,” Howard says. “Once you started searching for me, we were able to control what you saw and when. It wasn’t easy though; you came close to figuring things out much too quickly. That ordeal with Dorothy didn’t help matters either.”

  My brain is moving a mile a minute. I’m not keeping up; my thoughts become preoccupied. Something about what they’ve said and what they showed me doesn’t quite add up.

  “You lied to me,” I say, stopping Howard’s explanation, not that I care about how or why they do anything anymore.

  “What are you talking about?” Liddell asks.

  “You told me my brother went back to the institution because he saw me kill his brother. But he wasn’t there when I arrived.”

  “He was,” Howard says. “He came into your office just as you transformed. You were too out of it to hear the door close. He watched as you took Thomas Baxter’s shape and knocked him out.”

  “How could you possibly know this?”

  “Because I told him,” Moses says. “I took Brandon’s form. I knew he left you the note in the box of tissues. I allowed you to find it; well, I hoped you would anyway. I was happy to come back as Hallowell and find the note missing.”

  “Oh yeah,” I say. “That reminds me.”

  I grab my pistol, and without hesitation, I shoot Moses between the eyes. The doppelganger’s eyes go wide as the bullet pushes its way through his skull and brain matter. Howard and Liddell scream in shock and horror as their compatriot falls to the ground, showing the red spatter behind him.

  My eyes narrow, and I stare at the other two. “Give me a reason.”

  Liddell and Howard raise their hands; the shock on their faces is almost hilarious. “Thomas, be reasonable.”

  “You just take lives,” I say. “You don’t care who they are or w
ho they might be to someone else. You can’t possibly know until you take their form and their memories. How many have died just between the two of you? Three? Four? A dozen?” Howard moves to protest, but I point the heater right at him. “I ought to put a bullet through the both of you, right here and now.”

  “You can’t kill us all,” Liddell says.

  “I don’t have to,” I say. “Just you two would suffice. You, Howard, for the pain and confusion you put Helen through. She lost her boyfriend and her life because of you.” I move the pistol to Liddell. I don’t notice the tears that continue to run down my face. “I should kill you for killing my friend. Neither of you is worthy of life. I’m not worthy of life either, but I only took one life. His life was traded for mine, and I like to think I lived it much better than he ever would have.”

  Liddell lowers his hands and closes his eyes. “If killing me would make you feel better, so be it. I’ll even change into my normal form just so you don’t have to shoot your friend’s face.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not going to kill you,” I say. “I’m letting you go. You’re both going to live out the rest of your lives as Howard Sutton and Barney Liddell. If I catch word or even see you two have shifted, I’ll hunt you both down and give you the kiss-off. Liddell, you’re going to go back to the police precinct and tell them you have a twin brother. You’re going to dismiss yourself from the case because you can’t stand the thought of your twin being dead.

  “Howard, you’re going to return to Ruth and try to make it work between the two of you. She’s going to have some questions, but just tell her the man on the table wasn’t you, and you have no idea why someone has your face. You’re very much alive, after all. Then, in four and a half months, you’ll forget you’re doppelgangers, and you’ll go on to live the lives your bodies always wanted to live. You’ll just have to keep reminding yourselves of the blatant lies until your body believes them to be true.”

  “You’re better off just killing us now,” Howard says. “To live out our lives not knowing we’re going to die in five years is barbaric. To put Ruth or the Red City Police Department through that is cruel.”

  I point the heater back at Howard. “That is an option. Is it one you want to make?”

  Howard shakes his head in panic. “No, I don’t want that.”

  I lower my gun and step back a couple of paces. “Go,” I say. “I don’t want to see or hear from either of you again.”

  Liddell cocks his head to the side. “You’re a detective; you’re going to be working with me a lot.”

  I shake my head. “I’m going to be speaking with the Ares Corporation today and give my resignation. Until then, keep a low profile, and know I’ll be watching both of you.”

  Howard scrambles out of the room and down the stairs. Liddell turns to leave and walks to the door. “Wait,” I say. Howard turns, his eyes fixed on me with an evil glare. “Is this building vacant?”

  Liddell nods. “This place hasn’t had a person in it in years. That’s why we chose it. Why?”

  I look down at Moses’s body and back to Liddell. “Someone should take the reward for finding Moses. He’s an escapee after all.”

  Liddell shrugs. “You’re the one who got the case; you turn him in. Make it look like he attacked you and you had to put him down. I’ll vouch for you.”

  I don’t move or say a word, and neither does Liddell. We give each other a stare of mutual animosity, both of us knowing there’s nothing we can do except kill the other. Liddell won’t kill one of his own, and I won’t kill him since he agreed to be good.

  After a moment, Liddell turns and exits the room, leaving me alone with the body of a false Moses Renault.

  ***

  “This is unfortunate,” the warden says, staring at the body. “I’d wanted to question him, make him regret escaping prison and second-guess escaping again.”

  “Not that he ever would have gotten out,” I say.

  The warden gives me a worried glance but doesn’t say whatever is on his mind. He pursues his lips and shakes his head. “I’d wanted him alive, but a deal is a deal.”

  The warden places a stack of cash in my hand, and I grin as I count out the bills. We never did discuss finances while at the scene; I’d been too busy being frustrated at the warden’s consistent avoidance of all my questions. But the five hundred in my hands is very much an accepted overpayment. Though I imagine much of it is to keep my mouth shut about the escape and having to kill Moses. I certainly aim to keep my mouth shut about the whole situation.

  “What now?” I ask.

  The warden shrugs and moves the white sheet over Moses’s face. “Not really sure,” he says. “Probably make it out like he tried to escape. He did, so it’s not going to be a tough sell; and because he’s a prisoner, nobody will look too deeply into his death.”

  I raise my chin, impressed at the level of corruption the justice system is willing to embrace to avoid legal problems. I exhale through my nose and I turn, no longer interested in what the warden does. I’m paid for my time, and it’s more than enough to get Dorothy and me to another province. We can start a new life, I can take a good job in a factory, and we can be happy until my body inevitably gives out.

  “Thank you for your help, Detective Baxter,” the warden says.

  I don’t turn or say a word. I just keep walking. I have one final stop to make before I go home and uproot Dorothy from her life.

  ***

  I race up the stairs to my office. I open the door and Jenny looks up at me from her paperwork.

  “Mister Baxter,” she says, her grin a shining light of glee and innocence. “I’m happy to see you back. Genevieve has been worried sick waiting to hear from you.”

  I nod and swallow a lump in my throat. I peer at the clock on the wall and see it’s nearly noon. I only stopped the sequence of events by a few hours.

  “How long has it been since you were in the office?” I ask.

  Jenny shrugs. “I don’t know, three or four hours? She opened the letter as soon as she arrived. I don’t know why you thought she’d wait for the time you wrote down. Anyway, she’s furious, so I figured I’d leave her alone until you got back . . . if you got back.” The last words were said nervously and with teary eyes.

  I cock my head to the side and do the math. Genevieve was alive three or four hours ago, but at the time, so was the other Helen O’Reilly. I reach my hand out to the doorknob and hesitate. If Genevieve is dead, I’ll find out right here and now. I’m terrified to see; I don’t know what I’d say to Jenny to explain.

  I grip the handle and open the door. Genevieve sits at her desk, writing on a sheet of paper. Upon my entrance, she stops writing, slowly looks up and glares at me. I scared her; I worried her. I know what’s coming, and I’m not looking forward to it.

  Genevieve stands and slowly walks toward me; she doesn’t say a word, only holding eye contact. I don’t try to defend myself or explain why I wrote the note. She stops only a couple paces from me. She slaps me across the face and rushes forward, wrapping her arms around me.

  “You stupid, stupid man,” she says. “Why didn’t you bring me with you? I could have provided backup. I could have been there for you.”

  I pull back and shake my head. “No, it was much safer for you to be here. I wasn’t sure how the altercation would go down, and the last thing I wanted was to put you in harm’s way. Not that it would have mattered much.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I shake my head. I can’t explain any of it to her; she won’t understand any of it. I hardly understand it myself, and I’m living it. “Don’t worry about it,” I say.

  I walk to my desk and grab the bottle of hooch. I consider taking a drink from it, but instead, I walk to the sink and pour it down the drain.

  “All right,” Genevieve says, knowing this action is the one she believed she’d never see. “Start talking. What happened?”

  I shake my head. “I can’t; it’s not
really my story to tell. Just know that after today you’ll be safe.”

  “Thomas, what are you talking about? You’re scaring me.”

  “Dorothy and I are leaving the city. It’s not safe for us, and it’s not safe for anyone close to me while I’m here.” I open my drawer and start removing some personal effects. I have a leather-bound notebook I keep as a journal and a small sleeve of expensive pens. “The agency is yours now.”

  Genevieve steps back, covering her mouth with her hands. “Thomas, no.”

  I bend down to pull up the loose board and pull out the six hundred I have stored away. I stuff the bills in my pocket and look up at my friend.

  I nod and put my hand on her shoulder. “You’re one of the best minds I know; you’ll do great. With a bit more experience, you’ll be better than me.” There’s so much I want to say, but I can’t find the words. I want to warn her of Howard and Liddell, but I know doing so would only put her in danger. “It’s going to be tough for you as a woman, but once you solve a few cases for the Ares Corporation, clients will come.”

  Genevieve hugs me again, and this time I don’t pull away. It’s the last time she’s going to see me, and I’m not going to take that from her. Truth be told, I’m not in any hurry to never see my best friend again either.

  I don’t know how much time passes by the time she releases her grip, but it’s not enough. I light a cigarette and smile at her.

  “It’s been a pleasure working with you,” I say. “I wish you nothing but success.”

  Tears run down Genevieve’s eyes, and I turn. I give Jenny a friendly smile before saying goodbye and leaving my office for the last time ever.

  ***

  I get home, and Dorothy is on the sofa waiting for me, a suitcase beside her. I’d stopped at a payphone to tell her to pack her bags; we’re leaving Red City tonight.

  As I stand on the threshold between the living area and the kitchen, she stands and plants a kiss on my lips. “Where are we going?’ she asks.