Sable Alley

by Bridget Bundy

  “Did she know?”

  “She saw me a couple of times.”

  “Did you ever approach her?”

  “I did.”

  “And what did you two talk about?”

  “I told Ruby that the construction inspector position was mine, and she needed to decline the job offer.”

  “Did you threaten her?”

  Unwilling to answer, Dad lowers his head. Robinson repeats the question. Still, Dad says nothing.

  “You already admitted to murder, Mr. Kipling. Might as well admit to threatening her.”

  Dad sighs and finally says, “Yes, I did.”

  “What kind of threats did you make, sir?”

  “I told her that if she didn’t walk away, I would inform Mr. Hunt about her relationship with Miss Knight, and I would have her blacklisted throughout the construction industry here in Exeter.”

  “Whoa, man, you got pull like that?”

  “I’ve overseen the construction of business parks, homes, and shopping centers throughout this entire city for ten years, and when it comes to connections, I have friends that’s been in the industry longer than that. They trust me. They know me. That’s all I had to do was make one phone call to anyone in the trade, and she wouldn’t be allowed to pump gas in a dump truck. She would have been out.”

  “Is that right?”

  “You better believe it. I’ve got years of experience under my belt. She was some snot nose student whose only proficiency was cracking open a textbook. She wasn’t qualified. I was.”

  “They hired her though, textbook experience and all,” Robinson snarks with a chuckle. “She beat you, old man.”

  “She was dating the resource officer. That’s the only reason.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re a sore loser. You should have licked your wounds and moved on.”

  “When I first started in this industry, I had one goal. I wanted a seat at the table. I wanted out of the field into the executive office. I’ve been with Acrimen Construction for ten years, and they’re about to go out of business. The government center contract would have kept it afloat, but Hunt Projects won the contract. That could have been another step for me. I had to get in there.”

  “There’s more than one construction company in Exeter. Remember, what you just said? You got friends in the industry. They know you. They trust you. Hell, one of them would have hired you.”

  “Hunt Projects is the leading construction company with more than twenty building sites in Exeter alone, and they’re still winning contracts. If I got the job, I could have stayed for years, and being a construction inspector was a key step to moving up to an executive position in the corporate office. I needed it. Ruby wasn’t qualified. That job was meant for me.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Robinson replies plainly. “They hired who they wanted, and you shouldn’t have killed her. Now, look at you, still don’t have the position and about to get hard time.”

  “You have to understand, Detective. If you were in my shoes, you would sympathize.”

  “The victim in this is Ruby. My sympathy is for her.” Robinson huffs, “You can forget construction inspector. You’ve earned the title of killer and a seat in a prison cell. Own it, sir. Congratulations.”

  Dad adjusts his collar and looks away. There is no remorse, no apology for what he’s done. Who is this man? I never seen him like this before.

  “Last question, Mr. Kipling, and the most important one. Where is the baseball bat?”

  “It’s in the shed behind the house. It’s cracked.”

  “Why did you keep it?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Stand up,” Robinson instructs him.

  “I want to see Victoria. I need to speak to her.”

  “You’ll see her when she visits you in prison. I’ll make sure she knows about visiting hours. Stand up, sir, and don’t make me tell you again.”

  Accepting that he won’t get his wish, my dad rises to his feet. Sam puts the cuffs back on him, and he takes him out of the other door.

  DS Green shuts off the speaker just as Robinson walks into the viewing room.

  “Release Pastor Murray tonight,” she says to Robinson. “Have a community support officer take him home with our apologies.”

  Without saying a word, she walks out. I’m still staring into the interrogation room. The residual of my dad burns in my eyes. Memories are rolling back of when my tribe was overtaken. Machine guns were so loud. The soldiers rode on four wheelers and trucks, kicking up dirt and rocks. They burned our homes. They burned our livestock. They didn’t spare anyone, and they didn’t care who they killed. I heard the noise. I saw their destruction, but I don’t remember seeing him. There were so many faces, and it was such a long time ago. The pain is still real though.

  “His story fits the evidence,” Robinson says. “I would say good job, but it’s not the right thing to say in these circumstances. How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve been kicked in the gut.”

  “Sorry, Kipling.”

  “Yeah,” I sigh, feeling heavy with disappointment.

  “I have to go back out to your house and get the murder weapon after I get the priest released. Then I have to take the rest of the evidence back to headquarters for analysis. Do you want me to take your mum home?”

  “Please, would you? I won’t be going back there tonight.”

  “Alright, Kipling.” Robinson pats me on the shoulder. “I know it was tough turning him in, but you did the right thing. I’ll see you later.”

  I sit in the corner. I cover my face and scream into my hands, letting go of all the pent up anger and disgust. This case isn’t supposed to end like this, not with the arrest of the man who I lovingly called my dad for fourteen years.

  Chapter Forty-Two.

  Sovereign Prosecution Service decided this morning to formally charge Jamie Kipling with first degree murder. The confession along with the evidence taken from my home sealed their decision.

  As much as I thought I would feel accomplished after solving this case, there is no such satisfaction. Two lives are gone forever. A family is destroyed, and it’s all because of his selfishness.

  But oddly enough, if he hadn’t killed Ruby, I wouldn’t have found out the truth about my tribe. I’ve had time to think about what he said yesterday. I get that he was trying to help the Nendis, but he was there for reasons set forth by the BEAC, not to protect my people. He knew the end game. The death of the Nendis was set in stone the moment the silver ore was discovered.

  In all situations, the interests of BEAC and the British Empire are first and foremost above all else, and when it comes to profit sharing of the silver, I know for a fact he never saw the raw material or a finished coin. If he did, the outcome of Ruby’s life and that of my family would be different.

  “Detective Kipling, my office.” DS Green says as she walks by.

  Honestly, I’m glad to have a mental break. As long as I sit in my chair, my mind will always rehash memories.

  I hope this doesn’t turn into a beratement. After what I’ve been through, I’m ill prepared for more drama. I close the door once I’m in her office and stand back from the desk.

  “I must say I was not expecting your father to be the offender in this case.”

  “Neither was I.”

  “When did you realize it was him?”

  “I received an applicant list from Georgia Knight for the construction inspector position offered at Hunt Projects. My father was on it. Seeing his name had me thinking about the man I saw on the footage from the Hyde-Chapman Station on the evening that Ruby was killed. He was built just like my dad. He had the same coat. He walked just like him.”

  “From what I understand, the Kipling’s saved your life. It must have been extremely difficult to turn him in.”

  Unwilling to answer, I look at the floor.

  “Detective Kipling, you’ve done excellent work, despite the challenges you faced, and I truly appreciate
your discretion when it came to my private life.”

  I had no intentions of telling anyone about DS Green’s personal preferences when it came to her relationships. It’s none of my business, and I don’t care who she dates. Her worries and threats were for nothing. But I find it odd that she says nothing about the priest. She doesn’t feel bad about what she’s done at all.

  “Where did you sleep last night?” DS Green asks.

  “In the break room.”

  She nods and replies, “If you don’t plan on going back home, you have to find a place to live. You need a separate space where you can escape this job to reset and rest your mind.”

  “I’ll start looking.”

  “Take a couple of days. Get yourself together.”

  “Thank you,” I respond and leave out of the office.

  Robinson walks into the squad room as I gather my things off the desk. He takes off his coat and slumps in his chair. He looks like he had a full night’s rest, despite working late. I don’t know how Robinson does it. Always looking refreshed and ready for the world. Nothing bothers him. Nothing touches his happiness. There is no hammer strong enough to break his solid ground. I need whatever good luck he has because I’m fresh out.

  “Morning, Kipling.”

  I smile in response.

  “Did you get any rest?”

  “Best I could on that hard sofa.”

  “Was your dad charged with murder?”

  “Yeah, I got the update an hour or so ago.”

  “Usually, it feels pretty good to put the bad guy away. In this case, it’s a little different.”

  “It’s a whole lot different,” I remark. “I better get going. I have a life to start over.”

  “Where are you headed? I know you’re not going home.”

  “Well, actually, I am. I have to pack my things and look for a new place to live.”

  “Figured you might be looking for a new spot. I talked to a friend of mine. He’s got an English basement, right here in District Three, not too big. I’ve seen it myself. I can vouch that it’s a nice little place. Let me give you his number.” Robinson grabs a piece of paper from the drawer and scribbles down a name and number. He hands it to me and says, “I’ll call him and let him know you’ll be stopping by.”

  “Is he a decent guy?” I ask with uncertainty.

  “He’s a cop in District Five. Stand up dude all the way.”

  “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

  “No problem, Kipling.”

  “I’ll see you later.” I turn to leave and stop suddenly.

  Anna Webb, Detective Kai Webb’s wife, is back in the precinct. Her hair is a mess, and her makeup is smeared across her face. Her eyes are bloodshot red from crying or using drugs, perhaps both.

  The detectives slowly begin to notice her, but no one makes a move. Detective Webb is not in the room. His desk looks like he hasn’t been at work for days.

  “You’re an abomination,” she seethes. “A disgusting human being.”

  “Mrs. Webb, I’m not sleeping with your husband.”

  “I’m not talking to you,” she says.

  I’m confused. She’s looking right at me, but then I notice she really isn’t. Following her gaze, I turn around. Robinson is behind me. I look beyond him, and there’s no one else. Now I’m really confused.

  “You’re not a man,” she says to him. “No real man would do what you’ve done.”

  “Anna, you need to go home,” he replies. “Your head is clouded.”

  “Don’t want anyone to know your little secrets? That you’re sleeping with a man, my husband. That’s right!” She announces loudly to the room. “Detective Joshua Robinson, Mr. Macho Tough Guy Cop, is getting it on with a man!”

  “That’s it!” he says, going towards her. “You need to leave!”

  “DON’T!” Anna pulls out a gun from her jacket pocket. I hadn’t noticed her hand was hiding until that moment.

  For her to have a weapon like that is a shocker to me. The only people who carry guns in the BEAC are cops. Soldiers do as well, but they’re rarely seen in the city. They’re on military bases and deployed around the world. Citizens owning guns and rifles is against the law, and if they’re caught with one, the sentence is an automatic five years in prison without the luxury of going to court. Obviously, Mrs. Webb took the gun from her husband.

  Half of the detectives have drawn their weapons. I still have mine in my holster and so does Robinson. But his hands are up.

  “Anna, you don’t want to handle your problems like this.”

  “Really, Joshua, you think this is my problem?”

  “Why don’t we go somewhere else? I can buy you coffee, or we can eat breakfast somewhere. You choose. Doesn’t matter. We can get away from here, where you and I can talk privately.”

  “You would like that, wouldn’t you? No, I don’t think so.”

  “Anna, now listen to me.”

  “I’m not stupid. I saw you with my husband. I saw you going in a hotel room…”

  “That’s enough!”

  “Fuck you, Joshua.”

  Robinson exhales, trying to calm down. “Okay, Anna, it’s obvious that you’re a little crazy right now. But…”

  “Damn you to hell! Damn you both!”

  Anna pulls the trigger. A resounding pop goes off. Robinson is hit in the neck and falls to one knee. One more shot is made in quick succession from another weapon. This time Anna is hit in the chest, but her wound is immediately life ending. She lands hard on her back. Mouth is wide open. Her dead eyes tell of total shock. I look to see where the round came from. DS Green made the kill. Detectives quickly approach Anna with guns drawn. One of them handcuff her, even though she’s dead.

  Coughing and wheezing, Robinson sits down against a beam. He’s still holding his neck. Blood is coming through his fingers. Someone calls for an ambulance. I rush to his side and cover his hand, hoping to help him stop the bleeding, but our efforts are for nothing. The blood is seeping too fast.

  Robinson laughs and suddenly fades away. The playfulness in his eyes flees, leaving a hole of darkness where the light once was. Despite the fact his hands have dropped from his neck, I keep pressure on the wound, but I know my attempt is for no reason. His face ashen. His spirit, the source of his life force, has moved on, leaving the shell behind.

  I touch his shoulder and pray in hopes he hears my words. “May your mothers and your fathers carry you from this world into the next, and I hope you find eternal peace in the god of your faith.”

  Chapter Forty-Three.

  I’m at the doorstep of the place I’ve called home since I first came to the BEAC. I feel disconnected, as if I never belonged. Perhaps I should have died in the Yesti Mountains with my people. I would know peace instead of pain. I wouldn’t have witnessed the evil set against me because of inherently who I am.

  When I was a child, Chief Aijuli brought me and other little kids to her home once a week for what the tribe calls the Teaching of Our Elder. She would tell stories about the simple common sense of life and the connections we all have as beings. She spoke of how we are tested. How those trials shape our resilience, our resolve, our hopes and dreams, and whether or not we’re capable of forgiveness. The trials of life can be easy, and they can be hard. I had no real idea what she meant back then. Her wisdom was a mystery to me, but as I stand at the home of the woman who rescued me from the hands of the government, I understand.

  I open the door and step inside. The house is ransacked from the detectives searching for evidence. Nothing is broken from my initial scan of the area I see.

  Mum comes into view from the kitchen at the back of the hall. She’s standing with the assistance of a cane. Her smile is full of pain, but she’s happy to see me.

  “I was hoping you’d come home. I made breakfast. Bacon and toast, and I bought grits. It was advertised on television. I tried it this morning. I think you would like it.”

  “Thanks for cooking,
but I’m not hungry.” I feel bad for not wanting to eat. Normally, I would be helping her to her seat and fixing her a plate. We would be eating together.

  “It’s still hot,” she says. “I thought…I thought we could sit down and talk too.”

  With some hesitation, I do as she asks. The table is already set in the kitchen. Only thing missing is the food. I tell her to sit, and I’ll bring the dishes to the table. I realize my hands and shirt sleeve is somewhat bloody. I excuse myself to wash my hands and to change shirts. I don’t want Mum to see the blood and think something terrible has happened to Dad. After I’m done, I go back downstairs and fix her plate.

  Mum is nervous but she smiles as if nothing is wrong. I know she’s trying, but I’m not sure what she expects from me.

  We begin eating. Both of us are having difficulty trying to start the conversation. She picks at her food just as I do. The moment is uncomfortable, an almost unnecessary burden that I don’t want to be part of. I have to break the silence. It’s too much to deal with.

  “Mum.” I place my fork on the plate. “I wanted to let you know that I planned on moving.”

  “You don’t have to,” she says quickly. “Please, I want you to stay.”

  I’m surprised. “It’s probably best if I do.”

  “Victoria, I know you’re upset. But your dad has always had your best interest at heart. He really did try to save the Nendis. He did all he could. You have to understand that he was never in control. He couldn’t have stopped those soldiers.”

  “I know, but what gets me is that neither one of you told me the truth sooner.”

  “It’s not the easiest thing to do. I mean, how do you open your mouth and say, ‘hey, I was there when your parents were killed,’ knowing you’re going to hurt that individual?”

  “I can see your point, but it doesn’t make it right. I should have been told the truth anyway.”

  “If I could go back, I would tell you. Both of us would have sat you down and explained what happened. It’s out now. We can move on. You and me, Victoria, we can start new.”

  “How can we? I turned him in, and he’s charged for murder. Aren’t you mad at me?”