Dead Edge

by Jack Ford

  Cooper said, ‘We’re doing nothing.’

  Granger growled. ‘Which translates to you’re up to no good. Maddison? Rosedale?’

  ‘Really, Granger, it’s no big deal, we only dropped in to see if any jobs had come in,’ Maddie said.

  ‘You’ve never heard of a phone?’

  ‘Yes, but we haven’t seen Levi for a while.’

  Granger eyed her suspiciously. ‘But he’s not here.’

  Maddie shrugged. ‘That’s why we haven’t seen him in a while.’

  ‘Are you being funny, Maddison?’

  ‘No.’

  He wagged his finger furiously. ‘Sometimes, Maddison, I think you’re the ringleader of this so-called gang.’

  Maddie tried not to smile, failed. ‘Granger, we’re not in high school and there is no gang.’

  Granger narrowed his stare at her, his bushy eyebrows – which his wife was always trying to get him to trim – pinched over his eyes. ‘The three of you together means you’re up to something. So I’ll ask you again: find what, Maddison?’

  ‘Find Levi… We really need to go and find Levi. Maybe we should see if he’s at home. In fact, come on, guys, why don’t we go now?’

  Maddie got up and gestured for the others to follow, which they hurriedly did. Granger grabbed hold of Cooper’s arm as he was heading out of the door. ‘Not you. I want a word with you.’

  ‘Not now, Granger.’

  ‘No. Right now… Some man came on by looking for you.’ Cooper’s stance shifted. ‘Who?’

  ‘That’s exactly what I want to know. He wouldn’t tell me his name or why he was looking for you. But he looked official. You don’t think that’s strange?’

  ‘I don’t think anything.’

  Granger poked Cooper hard in the chest. ‘Let me tell you something now. Don’t bring trouble to my door. This is my business. My reputation. And whatever you think you can get away with, let me tell you right here, right now, you can’t.’

  ‘I’m not trying to get away with anything. I don’t know what he wanted or who he was. It’s probably nothing.’

  Granger gave Cooper a scornful look. ‘When do people ever come looking for someone because of nothing?’

  ‘I don’t know. You probably know more than I do.’

  ‘Is it to do with your court case? Your supervised sessions?’

  Looking down. Looking up. Cooper sighed. Real heavy. ‘No, I’m on top of that… Look, Granger, I have no idea what he wanted, or who he is for that matter. I’ve done nothing.’

  Granger let go of Cooper’s arm. ‘Nothing, hey? That word keeps on being bandied about this afternoon. But you better hope for your sake that it really is nothing. If I find out there’s anything on you, even a Goddamn fly, I’ll revoke your investigation license and make sure you don’t work in this business again. You hear me?’

  Cooper stared at Granger, his head beginning to throb. His jaw beginning to ache.

  ‘Who couldn’t hear you, Granger, when you’re standing right there? Now get the hell out of my way.’

  *

  Walking down the hallway, Maddie turned round. ‘What did Granger want with you?’

  Cooper said, ‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’

  WEST VIRGINIA, USA

  88

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  ‘Get off me.’

  ‘I’m not on you. It’s you who’s on me, Rosedale.’

  In the dark of the storm-filled, moonless night, Cooper couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him or a few feet behind him. He tried to position himself where he wouldn’t be squashed and cramped by a twisted tree root, or by Rosedale’s body as they lay on the wet ground, with the Virginian rain crashing through the woods around them.

  With drenched and mud-clogged clothes, and his hand trembling with cold, Cooper held his gun tight, tapping Rosedale on the shoulder. ‘Come on, let’s risk it. I doubt anyone is out in this weather. We might as well head nearer the shack.’

  Stumbling over tree roots, running low and following the path down to Harry Gibson’s cabin, the rain and wind battering their faces, Rosedale and Cooper darted and moved and rushed and tore through the scratching of bushes, twigs and trees.

  By the front of the shack, Cooper crouched down, searching and looking as his knees sank into the mud, squelching up and soaking into his khaki pants. The rain poured down on his face, running into his mouth. ‘Where now? This is crazy, Rosedale. Where the hell are we supposed to look now?’

  ‘I don’t know, just keep looking.’

  ‘Where though? Look around you, it could be anywhere. We’ve been looking for over two hours now and we don’t even know if it’s actually here.’

  Down on his haunches, his saturated clothes black from the Virginian earth and and sticking to him, Rosedale tried to wipe away the deposit of water on his face. Gave up.

  ‘Then the only way to find out is to keep looking. Gibson was a clever guy, trapped in this mosquito infested place. I know he’d be working on getting out of here. Planning. Like I said before it’ll be well-hidden but with easy enough access to get at it in a hurry. Far enough away not be found, near enough to retrieve in a rush. Look, Thomas, if you want to go, be my guest but I’m not going anywhere until we’ve either found something or until I’m sure there’s nothing here.’

  ‘We’re in this together. However long it takes, I’ll stay, but I feel like we’ve dug up half of Virginia and we’re not getting anywhere. This, here. This isn’t where he would’ve hidden anything. We gotta think… What about the river? The one just behind the shack? That’s a good way to travel if you’re trying to get away quickly, silently. You could get away, moving along the bank, and disappear before anyone realizes you’ve gone. It’s also somewhere you could hide some stuff. Hide your plan B.’

  Standing up and no longer bothering to brush any water off his clothes, Rosedale nodded. ‘You could be onto something. Come on…’

  Rushing and hurrying, the men ran past the side of the shack, along the short path to the river with their weapons drawn, pausing only to check and be sure no-one was coming through the curtain of rain. With an all-clear nod, Rosedale pulled at the dense brush, which tore into his fingers and ripped and shredded his skin as he slipped through onto the river bank.

  They had to shout to be heard above the rushing river which hungrily swelled and swept along broken branches and leaves, as the heavy, torrential rains filled it with angry abundance.

  ‘What about that?’ Cooper pointed to a tree in the middle of the angry water, which had lifted and twisted and grown out of the river revealing a wide barrel trunk. ‘I reckon that’s a good place to start. Tree’s pretty dead but see on the left side of it, there’s a cavity. A hollow’s formed. We could try there. I’d say it was a perfect hiding spot.’

  Rosedale shook his head. ‘There’s no way we’ll get to it. Look at the river. It’s too fast.’

  Beginning to take off his blue jean jacket, Cooper shouted, ‘I’ll go.’

  ‘No you won’t.’

  ‘I said, I’ll go.’

  ‘Damn, Thomas, don’t you ever listen?’

  The rain beat down. ‘What’s your problem? Let me just go.’

  Rosedale grabbed hold of Cooper’s arm. ‘If you’re really determined to do this, it’s me who should go. Those pills you like to take, and that river, well, that ain’t a real good combination… Go get the rope out of the rucksack, we’re going to need it.’

  *

  Five minutes later, and with the rope tied round a small stump by the river bank, Rosedale held onto the other end. He edged into the water. And the water river rushed over.

  He waded out carefully, as Cooper yelled out directions. ‘Try to keep to the left… That’s it. You’re nearly there.’

  Cooper watched as Rosedale fought to get to the gnarled tree, whilst his opponent flowed with torrential ferocity. And getting to the hollowed trunk, Rosedale, gripping and clinging onto the rope, rooted and rummaged in the hollowed
out tree. ‘Shit, there’s nothing in there… Shit!’

  ‘Look out, Rosedale!’

  Before he could turn, a bouncing, bobbing log, carried by the current, hit with savagery, smashing and crashing into Rosedale’s head, taking him under the water. Cooper ran along the bank, slipping and tripping and wading in. The river gushed over his face as Cooper fought to keep his head above the water level, clinging onto the bank at the highest point as it gave way.

  And the river ran red, whilst Cooper swam towards Rosedale, who turned and twisted underwater, his hands floundering, battling against the current, being thrown backward and forward, moving towards unconsciousness.

  Cooper reached for him, dragging him back towards the bank. ‘Rosedale, hold on… Stay awake, try to stay awake.’

  He heaved and pulled Rosedale’s body up, slipping and struggling and grasping and breathing, tugging and ripping Rosedale’s clothes whilst trying to get a grip, trying to get a foothold onto the soft bank.

  Dragging him up to the wooden porch, Cooper turned Rosedale on his back. Pumped his chest. ‘Come on, Rosedale, breathe! Breathe… Come on… ’

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  ‘Come on, man, come on, dude. Breathe… Breathe.’

  A splutter. A cough. Then Cooper turned Rosedale back on his side and, banged him hard between the shoulder blades. Rosedale began to choke and gasp, fluttering his eyes open and laying his hand on his chest, taking deep breaths as the rain fell hard on the corrugated tin roof of the shack.

  ‘Can you hear me? Rosedale? Can you hear me?’

  In a strained, whispered voice, Rosedale said, ‘I got a lung full of river, I didn’t lose my hearing… Help me up.’

  ‘We need to get you to the hospital.’

  ‘I’m okay. Same can’t be said for you though. You look terrible.’

  Cooper snapped. ‘I’m okay. Just… I’m glad you’re okay…’

  He trailed off and both men stared at each other, both looking at the other’s face, both etched with shock.

  Then Rosedale said, ‘Just help me up.’

  ‘Just stay where you are. Rest.’

  ‘Fine, I don’t need your help.’

  At which point Rosedale struggled up on his side, having to pause to cough as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

  ‘You’re as stubborn as I am. I’ll get you something to lean on… And don’t move.’

  ‘Anyone tell you you were bossy?’

  Cooper walked along the covered porch, but he stopped short of walking inside Gibson’s cabin. He walked back to where Rosedale was. Then turned and moved back down towards the door.

  ‘Thomas, what the hell are you doing?’ croaked Rosedale. ‘Have you lost your mind?’

  Again, Cooper walked to the door and stopped, he turned to Rosedale. ‘Do you hear that?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The rain, can you hear the rain on the roof?’

  ‘Like I said, sugar, it wasn’t my hearing I nearly lost.’

  Cooper ran the few short paces back towards Rosedale. ‘Right here, at this part of the roof, the rain’s tapping down. There’s a tip-tap. Tip-tap. But over there it’s heavier, more like a thump. A bam. Listen. Bam. Bam. Bam.’

  ‘Jesus, Thomas, what is this? You suddenly turned into Gene Kelly?’

  ‘Shut up, Rosedale. I’m being serious. The sound pattern’s different. Listen again, this area’s quieter. The rain sounds less heavy. Over there sounds like we’re sitting in a drum, but this part, here… It sounds tinny.’

  Cooper looked up and stared, then running from under the cover of the corrugated, pitched roof, which sloped down and out, he studied the tin sheets bolted to a ridge beam as the rain pelted down, blinding his vision.

  Leaping up, he jumped onto the rickety, wooden porch railing, holding onto the low roof for support, whilst the water rushed down in rivulets between the waves of the corrugated metal.

  ‘Rosedale, there’s a false panel. A second one’s screwed on top!’

  Quickly, Cooper hurdled off the railings, going into his rucksack and pulling out a thin crowbar and torch, before bounding back up and forcing it between the two corrugated sheets, pulling the false panel off the roof.

  Throwing it onto the ground, Cooper vaulted down next to it. He flicked on the small torch before turning the false panel over and there, carefully tucked and taped into the waves of the corrugated sheets, were several transparent bags which held various things.

  A bag of rolled up hundred dollar bills.

  A bag with a small recording device.

  A bag which held a roll of what looked like seismograph readings.

  And Cooper nodded, and in the dark of the moonless night, with the rain thundering down, he said, ‘Rosedale, I think we’ve just found our plan B.’

  ALABAMA, USA

  89

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  ‘Jesus.’

  Senator Rubins sat in shock in his office, staring across his rosewood desk at Maddie and Rosedale. He switched off the small voice recorder, not knowing quite what to say next. And he rubbed his face and his chin, and he took off his blue glasses and wiped them with his blue tie and put them back on, and opened his mouth but closed it again, and fiddled with the seismograph readouts in front of him, and Rosedale said, ‘Are you okay, Senator?’

  ‘To tell y’all the truth, I’m not. What you’ve just told me and what I’ve just heard, well, to put it mildly, I’m in shock. And I certainly don’t know what I’m supposed to do with all this.’

  ‘We thought perhaps you could give them to Brent Miller.’

  ‘He’s only just come out of hospital after his stroke,’ Rubins said.

  ‘Think about it. Until recently he was the chief of CTC. Chuck only took over because Miller was literally incapacitated. And okay, Miller may not be ready to come back to work yet, or even ever, but right now, Senator, he’s our best bet. Our only bet.’

  ‘I don’t know, Rosedale.’

  ‘Look, a long time ago I worked under Miller. I think we can trust him.’

  ‘You only think?’

  ‘Senator, that’s as good as it gets when it comes to me trusting anyone… Take it to him and everything we’ve told you. He’ll do what’s needed. I’m sure of it.’

  ‘And what about your involvement in this, Rosedale? All of your involvement in this?’

  Earnestly, Rosedale looked at the Senator. ‘Sir, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep us out of it.’

  ‘That might be difficult.’

  ‘Everything we know, you know, sir. There’s no need for us to have our names put in the ring.’

  Rubins frowned in concern. ‘I don’t know. I think at this stage transparency is vital.’

  Rosedale stood up and tipped his hat. ‘Senator, although I’m no longer in the CIA, I have a duty and I continue to do all I can for this country. I will go to the redline to serve and honor my promise to the flag. I will give my life if that’s what it takes, but what I won’t do is put those I care for in danger. There’s no doubt about the people we’re dealing with, and what they’re capable of, so I ask you to give me your word as a soldier, and as a member of the Senate, that we remain anonymous.’

  Rubins stood up and faced Rosedale. He blinked and thought and finally said, ‘Okay, if that’s what it takes.’

  Maddie also stood up. ‘Senator, can you keep us informed? This is important to us all. Those children are real to us. We care what happens.’

  Rubins raised his right hand and brought it up to his brow, saluting Maddie.

  ‘Lieutenant, you have my word, and thank you.’

  WASHINGTON, D.C.

  USA

  90

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  President Woods sat between Teddy Adleman and Lyndon Clarke, and opposite Senator Rubins, who sat next to Brent Miller, who sat on the cream couch hooked up to a portable O2 cylinder, taking the occasional deep, noisy inhalation of oxygen, putting Woods in mind of Dennis Hopper�
��s character in Blue Velvet. ‘Jeez, Brent, are you sure you’re okay? We could’ve done this without you.’

  Brent’s reply was as straightforward as he was. ‘And miss speaking to that son-of-a-bitch? I don’t think so, Mr President. I need to hear what he has to say.’ Whereupon he took another large gulp of air.

  Woods, feeling slightly surreal, looked around the Oval Office. ‘Okay, so let’s do this… Rubins, if you could do the honors.’

  Rubins got up and started handing out a multi-page document. ‘So these are the transcripts of the recordings. These were taken pre-David Thorpe – or, as the press named him, the coffee shop bomber. Some of the audio is a bit muffled. Sounds like it was recorded next to water, maybe a fountain or something. But hopefully the type-out will help. You’ll also find that some of Harry Gibson’s questions sound leading. I guess that’s because he needed to make sure that Chuck would hang himself.’

  Rubins sat down and reached across to the device on the table and pressed play.

  Top Secret.

  Transcript 1.

  * * *

  Transcription of recording between Harry Gibson and Charles (Chuck) Harrison. Unintelligible phrases are marked with a question mark in brackets [?], followed by dashes signifying the estimated number of words that are unintelligible. [?——] means that approximately four words plus are unintelligible in the phrase.

  Participants: Harry Gibson

  Chuck Harrison

  Recording time: 2 minutes, 45 seconds

  Gibson Who is this guy anyway? Or rather what has this [?]–-–you.

  Chuck What’s with all the questions?

  Gibson Curious to know who I’m dealing with that’s all.

  Chuck Being curious isn’t something I’m asking you to do.

  Gibson Then how about you do it yourself. Because God only knows at this point I don’treally feel like there’s much more I could lose anyway. It’s [?]–- Chuck. This is some game [?——]