Harm's Reach

by Alex Barclay

  ‘Is there anything you can think of,’ said Janine, ‘that might have changed her mind about going through with this?’

  ‘No,’ said Ingrid. ‘Absolutely nothing. Nothing had changed between when we agreed to this and now.’

  ‘Is everything in your marriage OK?’ said Ren.

  ‘My marriage?’ said Ingrid. ‘Yes, of course it is. Sometimes I think people like to think of couples like Robert and I as being miserable. It all looks so perfect on the outside so something must be wrong. People assume so much about the wealthy.’

  Miaow.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Ingrid. ‘That’s an embarrassing thing to say. But, I’m just … I’m confused. Everything I believed in is falling apart.’

  25

  Robert Prince arrived at the Sheriff’s Office with his lawyer, a slight, curly-haired man with gold-rimmed glasses and a brown suit that was too long in the jacket, sleeves and pants.

  Unusual for a wealthy man to have such an unkempt lawyer.

  ‘Hello again, Agent Bryce, Detective Hooks,’ said Robert, ‘this is my lawyer, Christopher Bergin.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you.’ They shook hands.

  ‘Can I see my wife, please?’ said Robert.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Ren. ‘After we talk.’

  They went into the interview room and sat down.

  ‘Mr Prince,’ said Ren, ‘there are several things we’d like to talk to you about. Firstly, what is your relationship with Conor Gorman like?’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘We were trying to protect him. To answer your question, I don’t quite know how I would classify my relationship with him. It would be great if I could sit here and say that I’m like a father to him, but that’s not the case. I’d say uncle if it was an affectionate relationship, but it isn’t really. I’d say mentor if it wasn’t for the fact that Conor wouldn’t do anything I suggested, in fact he would be more likely to do the opposite.’

  ‘Do you like Conor?’ said Ren.

  ‘I do,’ said Robert. ‘He’s a messed-up kid, but I can’t hold that against him. He’s had a difficult life. I’ve always just wanted to help him. That’s why we didn’t want to bring him into all this at this time. We didn’t want to upset him any further. He was very close to Laura. He has no family left – that can’t be easy.’

  ‘Do you think the ranch is the best place for him right now?’ said Ren.

  ‘Personally?’ said Robert. ‘No. But Ingrid is insisting.’

  ‘Why?’ said Ren.

  ‘She told me she needs space. We’ve found ourselves in a strange situation. Laura was the glue that bound us all together. Ingrid was concerned that Conor might have looked to her to replace Laura’s role in his life and she didn’t want that to happen. She has her own grief to deal with.’

  ‘Mr Prince,’ said Janine, ‘this is difficult for us to tell you, we’ve just told your wife, but we’ve found evidence that Laura had been researching second-trimester terminations online.’

  Robert Prince paled.

  ‘I know that’s not easy news to hear,’ said Ren.

  ‘I don’t believe that she was doing that,’ said Robert. Firm, authoritative, final.

  ‘What makes you so sure?’ said Janine. Her tone was kind.

  ‘We’ve known Laura for five years,’ said Robert. ‘She was a kind-hearted, caring Irish Catholic who agreed to be a surrogate to two people who love each other very much and cared about her very much. Whoever your source is, they’re mistaken. Can you please note in writing somewhere how vehemently I am disagreeing with this? It’s simply not plausible.’

  Ren did as he asked. ‘Mr Prince, when was the last time you saw Laura?’

  He paused. ‘Two nights before she left for Chicago.’

  ‘And how did she seem?’ said Ren.

  ‘As always,’ said Robert, ‘relaxed, happy, sweet. She was just an infectiously nice person, the type who cheers up the room, without it being all about her or without her wanting any attention, if that makes sense. That’s Laura. Nothing deeper or darker.’

  Ren nodded. ‘She sounds like a lovely person.’

  ‘She was,’ said Robert. His voice caught. He shifted in his seat, recalibrated, returned to his default composure. ‘Is there anything else I can help you with?’

  ‘Do we have your permission to talk with Conor at the ranch?’ said Janine.

  ‘Of course, but please, go easy on him,’ said Robert. ‘And I’d like Mr Bergin here to be present for the meeting.’

  Shit. ‘That’s not a problem,’ said Ren.

  Robert nodded. ‘I worry that someone like Conor could be misunderstood. He can be a little sullen and … well, he can rub people the wrong way.’

  ‘We’ll bear that in mind,’ said Ren. ‘One more thing – will you still have Conor live with you when he finishes up at the ranch?’

  ‘Honestly, we don’t know,’ said Robert. ‘Ingrid and I are not really in a place to discuss that right now. And it depends on what Conor wants. He’s no longer a minor. Either way, I’d like to continue to support him … for Laura’s sake too.’

  Ren and Janine went for coffee in the kitchen of the Sheriff’s Office.

  ‘What do you make of Robert Prince?’ said Ren.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said Janine. ‘Am I getting a guarded because he’s guilty of something vibe, or guarded because he’s a wealthy man living in the public eye?’

  ‘I don’t get why he’s supporting Conor’s treatment,’ said Ren. ‘Why would he do that?’

  ‘Because he’s a good Catholic?’ said Janine. ‘Or he doesn’t want to look bad to other people by kicking Conor out.’

  Ren nodded. ‘Well, the ranch is a good way of getting Conor out of the way, but not quite abandoning him. All under the guise of support.’

  ‘The lawyer seemed OK; he didn’t butt in, he wasn’t getting all defensive,’ said Janine.

  ‘Strategy, strategy …’

  They walked down the hallway to Janine’s office.

  ‘Can I take home some of those files?’ said Ren. ‘The ones that match the résumés?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Janine. ‘I can give you my duplicates.’

  ‘That would be great.’

  Ren followed her to the open-plan office and to a battered five-drawer file cabinet.

  ‘You’d think they’d get you a new one …’ said Ren.

  Janine laughed. ‘So, which ones do you want?’

  ‘There’s one I want to look at first,’ said Ren. She took a list from her bag. ‘OK, let’s see if you know which one it is: clue number one: 1957 …’

  Janine turned to her. ‘Missing Person: Viggi Leinster, starlet, socialite, New York, dahling.’

  ‘Ooh …’ said Ren. ‘You’re good.’

  ‘I’ve only one 1957,’ said Janine.

  ‘Can you remember the deets?’ said Ren.

  ‘Vaguely … Viggi Leinster, briefly big on the social scene in New York. Only nineteen years old when she disappeared.’

  Ren read from the one-page résumé. ‘She was last seen on October 28, 1957 at Vescovi’s, a restaurant in New York city. She had been attending the after-show premiere of Nights of Cabiria.’

  ‘Yup – that’s the last confirmed sighting,’ said Janine.

  Ren scanned down the page. ‘The last unconfirmed sighting was …’

  ‘Denver,’ they both said at the same time.

  ‘But … 1957?’ said Janine. ‘New information now? From an Irish girl? Is that likely?’

  ‘I know,’ said Ren.

  ‘I have a theory on Viggi Leinster,’ said Janine. ‘I believe that she disappeared on purpose. The man she was suspected of having an affair with, a gangster called Angelo Marianelli, also disappeared … six weeks later, I found out. I’m thinking Viggi Leinster may have been threatened because of something he was doing, he got her out of the way, and followed her a little while later when it was safe.’

  ‘Where did the gangster love story come from?’ sai
d Ren.

  ‘His name is mentioned in the file,’ said Janine. ‘One of the busboys in Vescovi’s caught them in the coat check one night …’

  Ren read it again. ‘And Viggi Leinster’s neighbor was the one who reported her missing.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Janine. ‘She’s dead now. They’re all dead.’

  ‘They’re. Allll. Deaaaad.’

  Janine laughed.

  ‘Maybe one of the cops on the case was Irish,’ said Ren, ‘maybe he was heading to the grave with some serious information, his granddaughter/grand-niece Laura Flynn comes to New York, he gets a little drunk, opens up to her and tells her what really happened.’

  ‘All without one cliché taking place,’ said Janine.

  ‘Hey – what about the missing gangster – he could have been in Chicago … maybe that’s why Laura went there …’ She paused. ‘I’m going full-blown cliché on this.’

  ‘I can see that,’ said Janine.

  ‘Who’s got the gangster case?’ said Ren.

  ‘A cop in New York,’ said Janine. ‘We’ve spoken, we’ve shared notes. But that was, like, four years ago. I can call him in the morning, if you like.’

  She slid open one of the drawers to the file cabinet and handed the folder to Ren. ‘It’s not exactly bursting at the seams. Do you want to take any others?’

  ‘I’m thinking these four too,’ said Ren. She pointed to her list.

  ‘You’re taking five?’ said Janine. ‘I thought you didn’t like uneven numbers.’

  ‘I don’t,’ said Ren, ‘it depends. And please, for your own sake, do not expect consistency from me. Ever.’

  26

  That night, Ren and Ben sat on the sofa in Annie’s house after dinner. She told him about the investigation, and the Princes’ surrogacy.

  ‘I wonder what it would be like to fake a pregnancy,’ said Ren. ‘Like, it must be weird to have to keep up a whole nine-month lie, ten-month lie, whatever length pregnancy is supposed to be now. I mean, it must take a special kind of … I don’t know …’

  Ben laughed. ‘You’d know all about lying, undercover agent Remy Torres.’

  Pause. ‘Hey, that’s different,’ said Ren. ‘I’m not lying to the people I love.’

  ‘So, where exactly did you tell your family you were for that whole year you were living with a crime queen in a drug compound?’ said Ben.

  ‘Living with a crime queen … Jesus. And where do you tell your family you are?’ said Ren.

  Ooh, this wine is performing well tonight.

  ‘Now, I tell them I’m under covers … with a hot bitch.’

  ‘Ha, ha,’ said Ren.

  She grabbed the bottle of wine and poured the last of it between them.

  ‘Anyway, this isn’t about me,’ said Ben. ‘I don’t think it takes a special kind of anything. It’s just … it is what it is. I don’t know what you expected me to say.’

  ‘I don’t come to conversations with expectations,’ said Ren.

  ‘Okaay.’

  ‘Do you?’ said Ren.

  ‘No, but … where are we going with this conversation?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Ren. ‘Do we need a destination?’

  Ben made a face.

  Don’t look at me like I’m nuts.

  ‘I just resent you tying me and work into this,’ said Ren. ‘I mean … what’s your point?’ That I have the capacity to lie to people I love? Which I actually do. Which I hate.

  ‘I don’t have a point,’ said Ben.

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ said Ren. ‘Of course you have a point.’

  ‘I don’t,’ said Ben. ‘Relax.’

  Relax?!?!?!?!?

  ‘Relax?’ said Ren. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Yeah, seriously. What the hell?’

  ‘I’m talking about a woman faking a pregnancy and you’re talking about—’

  ‘OK, correct me if I’m wrong,’ said Ben, ‘but didn’t you infiltrate that gang by pretending to Domenica Val Pando that you had lost a baby? I mean, that’s what we were taught … use anything to make an entrance …’

  Oh my God. I had completely forgotten that. How could I have forgotten that? ‘I … I … cannot believe you’re bringing that into this. It’s completely different.’ How can you not see that?

  ‘How can you possibly think that that’s completely different?’ said Ben.

  ‘It’s work!’ said Ren.

  ‘But, say you’re a celebrity and you’re faking it because your body is your fortune and you don’t want to ruin it and you’re going on tour, so you don’t want to be pregnant or whatever … that’s work too.’

  ‘That’s bullshit!’ said Ren. ‘And why are we even having this conversation?’

  ‘You tell me,’ said Ben.

  ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’ said Ren.

  ‘Nothing! You started talking about people lying …’

  Fuck this. ‘I don’t think it’s very fair you bringing up UC stuff. It just gives me the creeps that you learned about me or had that kind of access to me before we met. I guess I’ve only just realized that.’

  ‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ said Ben. ‘I had access to a case study of an agent called Remy Torres, of her undercover process. Two very different things.’

  ‘Don’t bet on it,’ said Ren. ‘You can honestly separate what you know about me professionally?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You can honestly look at me and not think “my girlfriend lay with a gun to her head, while a woman was raped right in front of her” and not think “my girlfriend must be very fucked up after that” or “my girlfriend got close to a beautiful little brown-eyed boy, took the place of his psycho mother for a year, then abandoned him” and not think “my girlfriend is one heartless bitch”?’

  ‘What are you doing to yourself?’ said Ben. ‘What is with the torture? I don’t think any of those things. I’m not fucking around here, Ren. We’re together six months. I know all this about your past. I have known all along. If you want to push me away, give one big push, OK? Don’t do lots of little ones, so I don’t realize I’m at the edge of the cliff until I’m at the bottom.’

  Whoa.

  ‘Is that a little too honest for you?’ said Ben. ‘Is that scaring you?’

  Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

  ‘I separate you and your work,’ said Ben. ‘Just as I’d like to think you do with me.’

  ‘The difference is I don’t know anything about your UC work,’ said Ren.

  ‘Well, I’d be happy to tell you.’

  ‘You honestly think I want to know what tramps you’ve fucked and what titty bars you’ve hung out in and what nasty shit you talked and—’

  Stop. Listen to yourself. Stop.

  ‘Stop,’ said Ben. ‘Let’s just end this right now.’ He stood up.

  End what? Panic. Panic.

  ‘This is going nowhere,’ said Ben. ‘It feels to me like you just want to argue for the sake of it. And I’m not interested.’

  He got up, grabbed his jacket and left.

  Ren ran to the window. She watched Ben get into his rental car, slam the door and drive off.

  Breathe. Breathe.

  She sat down on the sofa.

  What an asshole.

  I can’t believe I said all that to him.

  Tramps and titty bars … what the hell? He is a kind man. What am I saying to him? He is honest, and sweet and problem-free. Maybe he’s not honest. Maybe he is a liar. Maybe he has been lying to me all along.

  Stop. Stop. Stop.

  I am a psycho. I am one of those psycho girlfriends. But I’m not. I’m really not. Hey, aren’t the meds supposed to stop this kind of shit? Oh my God, is this my real personality? Am I a psycho?

  27

  Ren grabbed her phone. She called Matt.

  He answered. ‘Ren Bryce Tailored Trauma Services … how may I direct your call?’

  ‘I need to speak with your manager.’

  ‘Ooh … management l
evel,’ said Matt. ‘I’m afraid you’re stuck with the lowly, unpaid intern. What’s up?’

  ‘I had a fight with Ben.’

  ‘About?’

  ‘Stupid things. I was questioning someone lying, Ben was saying I was a liar too … because of my undercover work.’

  ‘Well … um … that’s a fact,’ said Matt. ‘You both lie as part of your jobs …’

  ‘I know …’ I know. I know. ‘But he was being a total asshole.’

  ‘Pause and reflect,’ said Matt. ‘Was he … really being an asshole? I am not saying you are to blame for all arguments. I am simply prompting you to ponder this.’

  Grrr. ‘I may have gotten a little … fired up.’

  ‘Was there liquor on your breath?’ said Matt.

  Grrr. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘And what happened?’ said Matt.

  ‘He grabbed his jacket and walked out,’ said Ren.

  Matt laughed. ‘Did he fling it over his shoulder, catalog-style?’

  ‘OK, why are you laughing?’

  ‘You don’t want to know.’

  ‘I definitely want to know now,’ said Ren.

  ‘Well, he walked out on a fight with you while you are … you know … on medication. What would he have done if he was in a fight with the unmedicated you? Ha …’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Ren. ‘Thanks for that.’

  ‘Pleasure.’

  ‘And how can you be so sure I am taking my meds?’ said Ren.

  ‘Ah, yes,’ said Matt. ‘Some day you will acknowledge the flaming red flags of your lunacy. And the gentle ripple of the white flags of sanity.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ said Ren, ‘lunacy is in the eye of the beholder.’

  ‘You say beholder, I say “endlessly tolerant brother”.’

  Ren laughed.

  ‘Don’t let this derail you – seriously,’ said Matt. ‘You’ve been doing great. Ben will be back. This is nothing.’

  ‘Well … I hope so,’ said Ren.

  ‘Of course he will,’ said Matt. ‘Sounds to me like you guys are great together. You don’t need drama. Call him. You deserve calm.’

  ‘Oh my God – you’re saying I deserve boredom …’

  ‘Stop,’ said Matt. ‘Don’t freak me out.’