by Philip Cox
And now he was certain Craig’s brother was alive.
But where the hell was he?
Chapter Nineteen
THAT NIGHT WAS the night that Ben and Craig got over their jetlag. Craig was the first to wake. Still dressed in his clothes from the previous night, he slowly came to, rubbing his eyes. Squinting into the bright sunshine, he sat up, looked at his watch, and decided the first thing he needed was a cup of strong black coffee.
He looked into Ben’s room as he wandered down to the kitchen. Like himself, Ben had not closed the curtains the night before, but as its windows faced a different direction, Ben’s room was not as brightly lit as Craig’s. Ben was lying on his back, at a forty-five degree angle to the bed, so that one leg was lying horizontally in the air, the other folded underneath him as if he was kneeling. The sheet was lying discarded on the floor.
Craig chuckled, and went to make coffee. Ben was still in the same position when Craig nudged him awake.
‘Wake up, here’s some coffee.’
Ben rubbed his face with both hands. ‘Christ, I slept well. What time is it?’
‘Only two fifty.’
‘What? Two fifty? You mean, ten to three?’
‘Yeah. Pretty much ten to three. In the afternoon. We’ve both slept for almost twelve hours.’
‘Jeez!’ Ben flopped back on the bed.
‘Well,’ Craig said, sipping his coffee, ‘I’ll hit the shower while you get over how late you’ve slept in.’
‘Hang on a sec,’ Ben called Craig back.
‘What is it?’ asked Craig, sitting on the corner of the bed. ‘More truth or dare?’
‘No, I was just going to ask how you felt. After last night.’
Craig paused a moment. ‘More relief than anything else, I guess. I think I had kind of convinced myself that it was going to be Adam on that slab, and when it wasn’t…’
‘Are you positive it wasn’t? You know, just that scar. Adam’s might have healed.’
Craig took off his shirt, revealing the scar. ‘Feel it.’
Ben reached up and ran his finger along it. ‘Quite a biggie.’
‘Well, Adam’s is the same. And did you have a close look at that guy’s body? No trace of a scar whatsoever. So, yes I am positive that it wasn’t Adam. And Sanchez’s DNA test will confirm it.’
‘I wonder who that guy was,’ said Ben.
‘Just some other guy that went missing, I guess. Poor bastard. His head was smashed to a pulp.’
‘Is that why you threw up?’
‘Partly, yes. Partly because I was still in my This Has To Be Adam mode. So, to answer your question, I feel relieved, I feel that he is still alive, I just want to find out what happened to him, and where he is.’
‘How exactly did you get the scar?’ Ben asked. ‘You said you would tell me the full story later.’
‘Long story. A story for another day. At least,’ Craig said over his shoulder as he left Ben’s room, ‘we’ve got over our jet lag.’
After they both had showered, shaved and dressed, they were sitting in the kitchen. Craig had made more coffee and they were enjoying a very late breakfast of eggs and bacon.
‘What’s the plan for today?’ Ben asked, through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. ‘What’s left of it, at least.’
Craig glanced at his watch: it was now three forty. ‘Why don’t we take the rest of the day off? We were out really late last night, and there’s not much of the day left.’
Ben took a large gulp of coffee. It tasted just how he liked it: black, strong, and sweet. ‘Okay by me. You’re the boss. You’re paying the bills.’
‘Tell you what. Once we’ve done here, we could have another look at Adam’s emails; see if any more have come in, then later we could go to Shots for the evening. And then plan our action for tomorrow.’
‘Sure. Sounds like a plan.’
‘Maybe,’ Craig went on, ‘that little waitress – Corinne – will be on duty.’
‘Very funny. Let’s have a look at the emails.’ Ben leaned over, picked up the laptop and slid it over to Craig.
Craig logged in, and got into his brother’s email account. ‘I’m getting to know his passwords off by heart now,’ he said.
Craig turned the laptop forty-five degrees so they could both see the screen. There had been a little activity since their previous visit. Two new entries in the Inbox: an email from a recruitment agency advising of a vacancy for a lettings manager for a property management company, and from his bank asking him to click on a link to confirm his personal details were correct.
‘That’s one of those phishing emails,’ Ben said. ‘You know, someone somewhere, maybe overseas, sends millions of these emails out. Statistically a large number of the recipients have their account there, and statistically again quite a number will click on the link and bingo, all their personal details go to the guys who send the mails. Bastards. Don’t open it; safer to delete straightaway.’
‘Okay,’ said Craig slowly as he deleted the email. ‘And what’s this one? Hm, I didn’t know he was looking around for another job.’
‘Check the Spam box,’ Ben said. Spam was in bold type.
‘Jesus, look at that!’ laughed Craig, as he read the message. It was a marketing message from an online pharmacy advertising a special deal on Viagra pills. ‘Think I’ll delete that one.’
‘Perhaps he needs Viagra,’ said Ben. ‘Reminds me of the joke about the guy who took a Viagra pill and it got stuck in his throat…’
‘I know, I know,’ Craig replied. ‘And he got a stiff neck. Very good.’
‘Just an idea,’ Ben said. ‘Just go back into the Trash box. I just want to check something.’
Craig clicked on Trash and Adam’s deleted messages came up. ‘Just the same as before,’ said Ben. ‘No, no it’s not – look!’
Ben stabbed at the screen with his index finger at a deleted email. It was from [email protected], as before. The title line was blank, and the message contained only a few words of text: welcome to the us. lol.
Craig read the message aloud. ‘Weird. I don’t get it. This captainx5sends Adam this message, then he disappears. The laugh out loud: is that sarcastic, I wonder, or a real joke? I don’t get it. And why didn’t we see this before?’
Ben highlighted the message, and then hit SHIFT + CTRL + f6. ‘Look at the history. It was sent, and read, three weeks ago. That’s why we didn’t notice it the other day: it wasn’t in bold, for unread. But it was deleted yesterday!’
‘This is getting stranger by the minute. Somebody must know his passwords.’
‘They must do. But somebody also wants to cover a trail, for some reason. You know what I think? I think somebody got in here days ago, and deleted all the incriminating emails; went back in yesterday to double check.’
‘After we arrived in town.’
‘Yes. They noticed they had missed that one, so deleted it then. Too stupid though, to realize they need to empty the Trash box as well.’
‘Like throwing some paper evidence away: just putting it in a bin, not burning it.’
‘Exactly,’ Ben agreed. ‘So we’re not exactly dealing with Bill Gates here.’
‘No, we’re not. Right, if we’re done here, let’s start our night off. Let’s get down to Shots.’
*****
By the time they left the apartment, what rush hour there was, had passed, and it took them only twenty minutes to drive to the bar. They pulled up outside the parking lot; obviously it was a busy night at Shots as the lot was almost full. From the car they could hear a steady thump thump beat from the music coming from the bar, and voices calling and laughing from outside.
Ben found a space outside the now empty printer’s shop. They parked there and walked over to the bar door. Outside the door there was a group of half a dozen young men, all with glasses of beer, talking and smoking. Two of the men moved to one side to allow Ben and Craig inside.
Inside, the place was crowded. ‘Obviously a
busy night,’ Craig shouted, even then Ben could barely hear him. He nodded his agreement.
They made their way to the bar. Harry was on duty that night, and after serving three other customers, made his way over to Ben and Craig. He didn’t appear to recognize them. They ordered two beers and moved away from the bar to allow another customer to take his place there.
‘There’s a free spot over there,’ said Ben, indicating a vacant spot by a pillar. They made their way over there, and each took a mouthful of beer, leaning up against the pillar. All the tables were occupied, as was every conceivable space up at the bar. The remaining floor space was full of people standing, and the little area in front of the stage had a handful of couples dancing. Music was blaring over the loudspeakers.
‘Hold this for a second,’ said Ben, passing Craig his beer. He got out his phone, and dialled.
Craig was about to say something when Ben put his hand up to stop him, then put his finger in his ear, holding the phone in the other.
After a few seconds, he hung up. Putting the phone back in his pocket, he took his beer back.
‘Well, fuck me,’ he said.
‘What? Who did you call?’
Ben looked around while answering. ‘You remember that number that was on Adam’s phone statement? The number we didn’t recognize? Well, I realized I still had it stored after I dialled it back at the apartment.’
‘And you rang it? And nobody answered.’
‘I rang it, yes. And it got answered.’
‘Well, who was it? What did they say?’
‘Nobody said anything. But it was what I heard that struck me.’
‘What did you hear?’
‘I heard a lot of talking, laughing, and background music. That background music.’ Ben pointed over to the little stage.
‘Whoever I called, whoever your brother called before he disappeared, is here tonight.’
Chapter Twenty
‘THAT’S INTERESTING,’ SAID Craig looking around. ‘Could you tell where it was picked up? What part of the bar, I mean.’
Ben shook his head. ‘No. The noise is too – too ambient. And of course I also had the noise and music coming in this ear as well. I suppose I could go outside and dial again.’
‘Nah. That’s stupid. At least we know now: a, it’s a valid phone number, and b, the phone belongs to somebody in town.’
Ben agreed. ‘Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow. See what happens then. Pity they didn’t answer.’
‘But if your phone rang with a number you didn’t recognize, and you couldn’t hear anything, would you answer it? You’d just let it go to voice mail, wouldn’t you?’
‘Probably, yes. I’ll try tomorrow.’ He looked around slowly, as if trying to take in all the faces he could see. ‘I wonder who it was, though…’
Craig took a mouthful of beer. ‘Just someone who Adam called before that night. May be quite innocent. We don’t know yet.’
Ben was about to take a mouthful as well. He rested the top of his glass on his lips momentarily, pensively. ‘No, we don’t. Anyway: that’s another job for the morning. It’s our night off tonight. Cheers.’
It was now almost eight o’clock and getting busier. ‘It’s Saturday night. That’s why it’s so busy in here,’ Craig called out, over the din.
‘Yes. I’d forgotten what day it was. Good choice for an evening off,’ Ben smiled wryly.
‘I would guess a lot of these are from out of town,’ Craig said.
‘They must be. You can’t tell me all these come from a little one horse town like Davenport.’
‘It’s not even worth showing a few photos around tonight. Nobody’s going to be interested. Or even able to hear. Like Saturday night back home. You still here?’
Ben was not paying attention to what Craig was saying, but staring over his shoulder. ‘Sorry, what was that?’
‘I was saying it’s like Saturday night back home. What’s up?’
Ben shook his head. ‘Nothing. I just thought I saw that guy Billy Loomis over there, by the pool tables.’
Craig turned round to look. ‘Where?’
Ben looked around. ‘No, can’t see him anymore. Must have imagined it.’
‘Well he could be here. It is Saturday night, and this does seem to be the only night spot for a few miles around.’
‘Yeah. It’s so busy here.’
‘Maybe that little waitress is on duty tonight,’ Craig said mischievously.
Ben took a mouthful of beer. ‘Maybe she is.’
*****
Two beers later, they were still leaning on the pillar. The bar was just as busy as when they had arrived: some people had left, others had arrived.
‘You guys feel like a dance?’ Two girls, who seemed roughly early twenties, appeared out of the crowd.
Ben looked at Craig. ‘Well I don’t mind if I do. Coming?’
‘No, that’s okay. I need the bathroom anyhow. See you later.’
Ben finished his drink and the two girls led him over to the little dance floor. Craig made his way to the restrooms.
‘Your friend not like dancing?’ one of the girls asked as she led him by the hand into the crowd.
‘No, not really. Two left feet.’
Ben didn’t recognize what was being played, but it was an up tempo number. He joined the other dancers on the floor. The next number was slower: one of the girls was grabbed round the waist by another man; Ben did the same to the second girl, but more gently. Although she was dancing with him, the girl paid little attention to Ben, more interested in her friend and her partner, who clearly knew each other. While he was dancing, Ben looked around to see where Craig was: Craig had found a space at the bar and was chatting to the man sitting next to him. Ben raised his eyebrows; it was clear from their body language that Craig and the man next to him had found something in common other than the quality of the beer.
It was soon time for Ben to visit the restroom. On the way back he tapped Craig on the shoulder. ‘You okay here?’ he asked.
Craig swung round. ‘Yes, everything’s fine. Ben, this is Jack. Jack and I were just talking about bars we have known.’ Craig had quite clearly had had more than a couple of bottles.
Jack turned round and shook Ben’s hand. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ he smiled. He clearly had an outdoor job: well tanned and toned, he wore a blue checked shirt, tight fitting blue jeans and brown leather cowboy boots. His handshake was very strong. For some reason Ben had him pictured as a lumberjack. ‘I’ll just go back to the dance floor,’ Ben said.
‘Okay, see you later.’ Craig said, swinging his chair round. Jack did the same.
Back at the dance floor, there was no sign of the two girls. Oh well, Ben thought, can’t win ‘em all. Avoiding the dancing couples, he decided to sit on the edge of the stage and watch the giant TV screen which was showing a football match. Ben had no idea who was playing, but it was better than watching Craig make out or other people dance.
One of the teams playing appeared to have scored after a while and some of the others in the bar began cheering.
‘On your own?’ Ben quickly turned round when he heard a voice he recognized. It was Corinne, the little waitress. She was not dressed as a waitress tonight, but had what seemed to be the local uniform of tee shirt and jeans.
Ben stood up. ‘Not working tonight?’
She grinned up at him. ‘Nope. Night off. Wanna dance?’
Ben looked over to the bar: both Craig and Jack were no longer there. ‘Yeah. Why not?’ he answered.
‘Why come here on your night off?’ he asked.
‘Not many places to go in this town.’
‘No, I can imagine.’
He led her over to a clear spot on the floor. Just as he was about to put his hands around her waist he felt his phone vibrate. He took the phone out, and saw that he had received a text message.
‘Sorry,’ he said, and looked at the phone. It was a text from Craig: Gone 2 play with Jack. ;-) Can u stay out till
12?
‘Jesus Christ,’ he muttered, as he replied OK.
‘Problem?’ Corinne asked.
‘No, no problem,’ he said, putting the phone back into his pocket. ‘Now, where were we?’
He put his arms around her waist, and she put her arms up around his neck, and they started to move about the floor, occasionally bumped into by other couples.
‘Where’s your friend tonight?’ she asked.
‘Oh, he was here, but he had to leave.’
‘So just you on your own,’ she answered.
‘Yes, just me on my own tonight.’
‘You and him aren’t – together?’ she asked hesitantly.
‘No, no no. Not in that way,’ Ben answered quickly. ‘Just friends that’s all. We both came out to find his brother.’
‘No sign of him yet?’
‘Not much success so far. At least not with finding his brother…’
As he spoke, Ben slowly moved his face down so his lips brushed against hers. She responded by moving her face upwards slightly so their lips could move against his. Their lips fought gently for a while, and then Ben’s tongue met hers. She smelt sweet and fragrant; she tasted even sweeter.
‘You wanna go somewhere else?’ she asked, slightly hoarsely.
Ben nodded. Just as well I’ve got the car keys, he thought. ‘Let’s go. I’ll follow you.’
In the lobby, she brushed his mouth with her finger. ‘Two seconds, ‘she said, and went into the restroom. Two minutes later, they were both walking arm in arm back to the car. One of the lamps in the parking lot had failed and there was a pool of darkness under the pole. Ben could just make out a small truck parked there. As they walked past the truck she gently pushed him up against its side. He reached out and held her again: she responded and their tongues locked more intensely than inside the bar.
She slowly pulled away. ‘Somewhere more comfortable,’ she whispered, looking around, and then running her hand down the side of his face. Ben took her hand and followed her.