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Authors: John Matthews

Blind School (6 page)

BOOK: Blind School
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‘Is something wrong?’

Moment's pause from Ben, still swinging. Then: ‘What is it that's wrong with mom?’

Jessica chewed lightly at her bottom lip, swallowed.

‘She... she's got arthritis.’

‘Arth... arthrie...’ He gave up trying to pronounce it. ‘Is that why she's tired a lot and can't make me breakfast any more?’

‘Yes. She has trouble doing some things, and gets tired more now.’

Ben sank into thought again, then looked up after a moment; the first time he'd looked directly at his sister since she’d walked in.

‘But she's going to be okay, isn't she? She's not going to die?’

Jessica finally crumbled then, tears welling in her eyes. She moved closer and lifted Ben into a hug.

‘Yeah, she's going to be okay. She's not going to die.’

She felt his small head nestle against her and she gently patted his shoulder in reassurance, her eyes closing for a moment with the lie she’d just told.

Spread out across Ellis Kendell’s desk were numerous cam-photos from the air show, mostly of John Culverton: talking with Senator Finley, talking on his cell-phone; then finally leaving the stand.

He surveyed them thoughtfully as Brent Cohburn aired his views on the accident at the other end of his phone.

‘Well, one thing we agree on at least: Culverton Industries are one of the few that could pull a stunt like this,’ Cohburn remarked. ‘But still it's got to be activated – and John's the only one we got operating a cell-phone anytime close... then leaving the stand a moment before the accident.’

‘What about Alex? He left the stand too a short while before. He could have made the activation call.’

‘No, he didn't. He was in cam sight all the time in the marquee – never used his phone. Nor his right-hand man, Coby. And to be certain, we checked phone records too.’

‘What's John's story with the phone?’

‘Says he got a call from radar systems guru Tom Collard to meet him in the marquee. But Collard wasn't there when he got there. We checked with Collard: he was never at the show. And there's nothing on his phone records either for him making such a call. It's a bullshit story.’

   Ellis cradled his forehead as he looked again at the photos. ‘I still think you should be looking more at Alex Culverton.’

‘Give me a good reason why, and I'd be happy to.’

Ellis fell quiet. The main disadvantage of the secrecy of their department; they were left mostly with cover stories. He hadn’t yet thought of one to answer why he should suspect one brother more than the other.

Cohburn sighed. ‘Look. You got a hard-on for some reason for Alex Culverton – then you're gonna have to do it on your own resources. Right now we got our hands full probing John's ass.’

Ryan’s meeting with his father, Rob, was arranged at a downtown
New York
hotel foyer.

   His father had flown in from
Atlanta
and they’d chosen a hotel close to Grand Central because it was the station for Ryan’s train from
Cedar Falls
. There were about thirty other people in the foyer, mostly close to the entrance and by the reception desk. Their table at the far end was away from the main throng.

Rob Lorimar thanked the waiter as he set down their coffees, then looked across the table. ‘Any plans yet for next month's Memorial Day weekend?’

‘No. None that I know of.’ He shrugged. ‘I suppose if the weather’s good, Jackie and Caz might come round for a barbie.’

   ‘No plans to go anywhere, though?’

   ‘No. Don’t think so.’

‘Remember how we always used to head off in the Winnebago somewhere, and we'd...’

His father’s voice trailed off then; perhaps realizing that a reminder of past, happier times wasn’t the best right now. But the last thing Ryan wanted was his father to feel awkward about reminiscing. He smiled warmly.

‘Yeah – I remember.’

Rob nodded. ‘Anyway... what I was swinging round to was maybe you could come down to see me in
Atlanta
then. That is, if your mom's okay with it.’

   ‘Yeah, yeah. Sounds like a plan. I'll ask her.’

Rob was thoughtful as he took a sip of his coffee, the silence awkward for a moment. ‘But no new partners yet for your mom?’

Ryan looked challengingly at his dad. ‘I could tell you – but then I'd have to kill you.’ He smiled crookedly. ‘Well, no. None that I know of.’

Rob smiled back at the joshing. But then his expression quickly fell. More serious.

‘You okay after that cafe incident last week?’

‘Yeah... yeah. No scars. See?’ He held his arms out. ‘At least none visible.’

His father’s gaze stayed on him steadily. But Ryan didn't feel in the mood to go into detail. He looked away for a moment across the foyer.

The monitoring van was parked sixty yards from the hotel entrance, its two operatives inside surveying a bank of screens. They honed in one screen as a limousine pulled up in front of the hotel.

   They watched as Alex Culverton got out the limousine shadowed by Coby and a half-Samoan bodyguard, Rami.

Ten yards behind was another limousine. Three men get out, though they were unknown to the van operatives. As the lead man, mid-fifties, grey-haired, stepped forward and shook hands with Alex Culverton, that same view appeared on Aaron Green’s screen with Ellis Kendell looking over his shoulder.

They were on a direct feed from the hotel-front monitoring van.    

‘See what you can pull up on that new face,’ Ellis remarked.

Aaron zoomed in on the grey-haired man, tapped his keyboard.

‘Okay. Running through now...’

Ryan and his dad looked round briefly at the entourage taking seats at the other end of the foyer; although Alex Culverton was mostly shielded by the rest of the group.

‘You know, despite our problems, that I still care about your mom?’

‘Yeah, I know.’

Rob took a sip of his coffee, gave a strained smile. ‘Still like to know how she's doing. That she's okay.’

Ryan meets his father's gaze steadily. It couldn’t be easy for his father. Trying to express the sweet and sour pain of the split; especially in the limited time they’d had together since.

‘I know.’

Aaron brought up a photo-fit alongside the cam-shot and scrolled down the details beneath as Ellis looked over his shoulder.

‘Bruno Teischen. Fifty-four. Arms dealer. Made his first money supplying both sides in the Bosnian war. Since then he's gone more global:
Chad
,
Kosovo
,
Nicaragua
,
Rwanda
.’

‘What category?’ Ellis enquired.

‘Nothing on VICAP. Category 6 with
CIA
and NSA. High risk.’

‘Okay. Let's find out why.’

Behind them the room was still busily sifting through numerous street-cam videos. As Ellis left Aaron's desk, Josh Eskovitz grabbed his attention.

‘You know that girl we viewed on a
Pittsfield
cam three days back?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, she's suddenly disappeared.’ Josh’s expression was taut. ‘Parents haven't seen her, no show at school, no contact.
Nothing
.’

Ellis's brow knitted. ‘Hopefully she's just gone AWOL with a new boyfriend and will show again in a day or two.’

‘Hopefully. But now we've got a fresh problem: we've found another girl in nearby Williamstown.

Bruno Teischen sat back in the foyer leather chair, pensive.

‘Looks like you've put some thought into this. Supply one side to increase demand the other. You obviously know how I like working.’

Alex smiled thinly. ‘Like you say: I've put some thought into this.’

‘But what about your father? After that last Senate Committee hearing, I thought he'd agreed not to deal with certain nations?’

‘Don't worry about my father. He's not too well right now. He'll be handing over the reins soon.’

‘Yes. But wouldn't that normally be to your older brother, John?’ Teischen held a palm out. ‘And he'd likely follow more your father's line.’

‘Don't worry about my brother either. Right now he's under investigation over the Andrew's air crash. My father will be forced to sideline him...’

Alex leant forward as he filled in the details.

Rob Lorimar looked back across the table at Ryan. ‘So – don't forget to check with your mom about maybe coming down to
Atlanta
.’

‘No, I won't. And maybe you can hire a Winnebago while I'm down too –  relive some of the old times.’

Rob took a second to catch on that his son was ribbing. He chuckled. ‘Glad I'm not the only one a sucker for nostalgia. Otherwise might make me feel –’ Rob mulled his mouth with feigned distaste. ‘ –
old
.

But Ryan had half switched-off as for the first time he got a clear view of Alex Culverton across the foyer, and saw something he’d hoped not to see again: a misty apparition swirling inside Culverton: half-angel, half-demon, along with a cacophony of garbled voices.

The demon's eyes shifted to lock on him – and a second later the man stared at him directly too, brow creasing.

The man muttered something to two men with him, and Ryan’s heart leapt into his mouth as they looked his way and started towards him.  

Ryan gripped his father's arm, who turned as Ryan hastily back-stepped.

The men moved with more purpose, and Rob Lorimer got up to block them, one hand held out.

‘Hey – what the hell you doing?’

Coby barged him aside as Rami alongside pulled his gun.

   Ryan ran.

 

SEVEN

...To the far side of the foyer and through to the adjoining restaurant.

   Ryan looked back halfway across the restaurant, hoping that its tightly grouped tables and the fact that it was busy might deter the two men from following. But they were in full flight in pursuit: a diner who got in the way was pushed aside, another table toppled over with a crash of cutlery.

   Startled protests and shouts arose, but the two men seemed oblivious.

   Ryan ran on int0 the kitchen. Hectic and noisy. Copious billows of steam rising, the clatter of pans and the frantic shouts between chefs and sous chefs were now directed at him.

   He ignored them, weaved past one waiter lifting a tray and a sous-chef juggling a pan over a high flame. One chef decided to be more vocal and obstructive as the two men chasing him burst into the kitchen.

   ‘What in hell!’ He stood directly in their path, brandishing a heavy skillet.  ‘You can’t just –’

BOOK: Blind School
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ads

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