Face/Mask (30 page)

Finally stepping out into the corridor leading to the kitchen she heard canned laughter from the Vid-bot in the living room. She walked past the room where Richard sat with his arms wrapped around his younger brothers, although his eyes were locked on her as she passed.  He was changing so much, growing up right before her eyes, and she worried that he might slip away from them while they dealt with this crisis. It was something she’d have to worry about later; there were more immediate issues to deal with.

She found Allen sitting on the floor, his back leaning on the front door, his head hanging down. At first she thought the mumbling she heard was her husband talking to himself, and was surprised to see how her uncle’s arrest had affected him.

After a second she noticed that his com was flashing in his ear, and she realized that he was talking in a quiet voice to someone else. She approached him and he looked up with red-rimmed eyes, continuing his conversation as he looked at her.

“I understand...I can be there in an hour...Thank you, yes. I’ll see you then.”

Terry slid down to the floor and stroked the hair away from her husband’s forehead.

“Anything?”

“The man…” He stopped, cleared his throat and started again. “The man who can help us. I have to go meet him tonight.”

“Tonight? Is it, you know, dangerous or anything?”

“No, not dangerous. And not particularly dramatic either. I'll go to the Super-Mart to get a few things, and he’ll be in the parking lot with a bag when I come out.”

“A bag? With all the money?”

“Two hundred thousand dollars.”

“My God. This is really happening. It doesn’t seem real.”

Janus looked at her with a sad expression. Terry allowed herself a soft smile of gratitude for her husband.

“I really appreciate you trying so hard, Allen. I wasn’t sure if you cared about what happened to Joe.”

“What’re you talking about?” Janus asked, blushing.

She squeezed his hand.

“It’s OK. I know you were never crazy about Joe. But everything you’ve done since he was arrested, and now, finding the lawyer and getting this money. I want you to know that what you’re doing really matters to me.”

She got up onto her knees, reached around his neck and pulled his face closer to hers. She could tell how uncomfortable all this was making him, how he kept his eyes to the floor instead of looking into hers. She saw how hard he tried to hide his feelings, as if men weren’t allowed to have emotions. The world had changed so much since she was a girl, but some things had changed very little.

Chapter twelve

Criminal Code of Canada, R.S.C. 2028, ch 357, Section 515(10)(i)
Remand by justice to a Citizenship Court in certain cases
: Where an accused is before a justice other than a Citizenship Court Judge charged with an offence over which a Citizenship Court Judge has absolute jurisdiction under the Canadian Illegal Alien Enforcement Act or any other compatible statute, the justice shall remand the accused to appear before a Citizenship Court Judge having jurisdiction in the territorial division in which the offence is alleged to have been committed;

Section 515(15)(ii)
Detention in custody in certain cases:
Where an accused is charged with the commission of an offence which was committed while the accused was not a citizen of Canada any judge shall order his detention  unless the accused, having been given the opportunity to do so, shows cause why his detention is not necessary.

October 4, 2039:

It used to be called Beaver Lake. Of course that was back when there had been water in it, although Robert Sévigny doubted there had ever been any real beavers. He stood at the edge of the large, manmade basin at the top of Mount Royal, dying for a cigarette, but there was little chance of that with his air-mask on. He took his mind off cigarettes by trying to recall when it was that all the water had been drained out of the lake.

“Twenty-nine, maybe,” he whispered to himself. “Has it been ten years already?”

He shivered in the strong wind, despite his heavy overcoat. At an altitude of over 200 meters Mount Royal was often covered in the thick, low-lying smog that settled over the city when there was little wind. On such days it was inaccessible to all but the most foolhardy people. Walid had wisely chosen to meet Sévigny here on a blustery day, when the air would be clearer, although that made it much colder.

Sévigny pulled his collar up around his neck, and looked around at the stumps of trees that had once covered the small hill that stood in the middle of Montreal. The lake, the trees, everything around him, was dead.

He and Catherine had often come up here to walk along the water’s edge among the families and tourists, so many years ago. The water hadn’t yet turned into toxic sludge, and ducks and a variety of fish had called the lake home.

Joggers
.
We were always at risk of getting run over by joggers.

He looked around, wondering if there’d be anyone else up there soon. He’d told Kadri to meet him at nine AM and to make sure he wasn’t late. Of course, it was closing in on ten, and there was no sign of him. He knew Kadri enjoyed making him wait. Both men were aware that when his informant called, Sévigny had little choice but to wait as long as necessary.

And when he did finally show up, Kadri would never apologize for his tardiness. “Lebanese time,” he’d say with a laugh, as if this explained away everything. And so Sévigny paced around the rusted benches and the broken bicycle racks that nobody had thought of removing from the mountain.

He cleared his throat and hoped that he didn’t start coughing again. Recently he’d developed a nagging hack that struck him at the most inopportune times, and spitting phlegm was pretty much impossible while wearing an air-mask. He knew he should see a doctor but had neither the time nor the interest, so he’d have to ride it out until it cleared on its own.

A few minutes later he heard the rumbling of a diesel engine. He looked down the street that curved up the hillside and saw a rusted four-door sedan approaching. He knew it would be Kadri even though he didn’t recognize the car. Sévigny took a deep breath, reminding himself to not lose his temper.

The car slowed to a halt, and Sévigny began walking toward it. Walid Kadri stepped out and waved casually.

“
Monsieur l’inspecteur.
I’m glad you’re here already.”

“You’re an hour late,” Sévigny growled.

Kadri shrugged. “Lebanese time.”

Sévigny winced at the all too familiar joke. He couldn’t see Kadri’s expression behind the mask, but he was sure he wore the silly grin that usually infuriated the policeman. 

“So,” Sévigny got right to the point as always, “why have I been standing here in this God-forsaken place all morning?”

“I believe you know a certain Allen Janus.”

Sévigny grunted his assent.

“It seems he has come into an especially large sum of money.”

“Is that right? How much?”

“Two hundred thousand dollars.”

Sévigny allowed himself a soft whistle.

“That is
especially large
. And you’re certain about the amount?”

“It would be hard to be mistaken when I’m the one who procured the sum for him.”

“You?” Sévigny looked at Kadri and shook his head in wonder. “Now that’s interesting. And just why did you procure him this sum?”

“I never ask what my, um, friends, need money for.”

“You never ask
them,
Kadri. But you wouldn’t part with that much money without knowing exactly what it was going for.”

Kadri smiled behind his mask, unable to deny Sévigny’s statement.

“I do have to take care what I involve myself in, no matter how indirectly. After-all, there may be some things that even you cannot protect me from.”

“Is this one of those things?”

“I wouldn’t think so. It’s actually quite,
comment le dire,
banal, yes? Some run of the mill bribery of administration officials, police officers and such.”

“You consider that banal, do you?”

“Well, it’s not exceptional, is it?”

Sévigny repressed a sigh, knowing the truth of Kadri’s words.

“So what are the bribes for?”

“A relative of his was arrested recently. A certain Giuseppe Pizzi.”

“His uncle.”

“His wife’s uncle, actually. And Mr. Janus has indebted himself to me so that he can bribe the requisite officials in order to gain the old man’s freedom.”

“That is interesting.”

“I thought you would appreciate it.”

Sévigny looked intently at Kadri and thought to himself that the man was incredibly cocky. Of course this was due in large part to the protection his position as Sévigny’s top informant afforded him. Still, the policeman wanted to show Kadri that there was information that even a top informant did not have access to.

“Speaking of Janus,” Sévigny tried to sound casual, “there is an interesting fact that I could tell
you
in relation to his uncle’s arrest.”

“You mean that
Monsieur
Janus was the anonymous source of the complaint in the first place?”

Sévigny stared, wide-eyed, at Kadri, asking himself how in the world the man knew that. He wanted to say something to wipe off the grin that was he knew would be on Kadri’s face behind the air-mask. But he swallowed his angry words, as he’d often done before.

Kadri turned to walk back to his car and Sévigny was going to do the same thing, then he remembered there was something else he needed to ask about. Part of him wanted to forget the whole thing, but he’d told Schultz that he’d try to help, although his search had still borne no fruit.

“Kadri, that matter I spoke to you about…”

Kadri turned back and smiled.

“You mean the super-secret classified information you’ve been looking for all these months?”

“Cut the sarcasm, would you? You know exactly what I’m talking about. Have you heard anything about it? You know, since last time I asked you.”

“Hard to say, since I don’t know what ‘it’ is,
n’est-ce pas
?”

Sévigny knew the man was right, despite his impudent attitude. How was an informer supposed to keep an eye out for something without knowing what it was? Schultz’s request for help finding that missing information had turned into a wild goose-chase. Sévigny waved vaguely to Kadri and headed for his car. He hoped that somebody came up with the information damn soon.

October 4, 2039:

What the hell do I do with this two hundred thousand dollars?

It was the question of the hour for Janus, who wondered if he could go on-line for a listing of who to bribe in order to get Joe out of jail. Silver had simply said to let him know if he got the money, probably unconvinced that Janus would ever get it. But there it sat in his basement, filling up a large utility bag.

Old bills, small denominations. Just like in the movies. And this really was ransom money, wasn’t it? Janus would pay off the people holding Joe, and they would let him go free. At least that was the plan.

He pressed his com and got the number for Silver’s office.

“
Silver et associés.
” The receptionist’s voice sounded as bored and unwelcoming as ever.

“I need to speak to Mr. Silver. This is Allen Janus.”

“
Oui, Monsieur
Janus
.
Right away
.
”

This time she didn’t give him a hard time before putting him through. Silver must have let her know he had a real paying customer in Janus, so now he got the royal treatment whenever he called.

“Allen,” Silver’s voice boomed through his com in a show of fake bonhomie. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine. Great. I wanted to meet with you, about your, um, ideas for our case.” If there was anything Janus was lousy at it was talking in vague, coded terms, but there was no other way to safely let Silver know he had the money.

“Yeah? Have you decided how you want to move forward?”

“Oh, yes. We’ve decided to go along with you on this matter. In fact, we’ve already gotten all our paperwork in order.”

“You’re kidding?”

Silver’s response confirmed that the lawyer hadn’t expected them to go along with his plan, nor to get the money so fast.

“No, it’s all done,” Janus said. “I thought I’d bring it to your office so that you-”

“NO! Not here!” The sudden fear in Silver’s voice was unmistakable. “What I mean is, there’s no need to put yourself out. I’ll get back to you about, um, our next step a little later today. You just sit tight. And don’t lose that paperwork.”

October 6, 2039:

It was Thursday again. For Janus his weeks no longer went on until the weekends, to be followed by Monday morning and another week. His weeks came to an end on Thursday evenings, with Sahar. The next morning his routine would begin all over again, at which time he’d gather up his will to struggle on  until the following Thursday.

Despite Joe’s arrest and all the insanity that followed, Janus had convinced his wife that behaving normally at work was necessary. So, as far as Terry was concerned, her husband continued to chair his meetings every Thursday night. And Janus continued to fall into Sahar’s arms and her bed each week, trying to escape his troubles. It had been a while since he’d succeeded.

“Allen, do you not come here to forget the world outside these walls?”

Janus looked at her from his perch on the window sill. He often sat there, gazing at the constant flow of traffic, when by all rights he should have been lazing next to her in her bed.

“I thought I did, but…no. I guess I never really succeeded at that.”

“More and more I think you do not want to escape. You want to bring the world in here and hope I fix it for you.”

He looked at her reflection in the window: she sat naked on her bed, with a cigarette dangling from her lips. If his worst nightmare were to come true and he never saw her again after this night, he knew that this pose would be how he’d always remember her.

“I’m sorry. I know I bring you all my troubles.”

“I do not complain, Allen. I am like a man who works in a bar: everybody wants to talk to me.”

“Yes,” he grinned slyly, “but only after…”

“Usually after, Allen. Usually.”

She got up and walked over to the window. There were no lights on in her room, otherwise standing without any clothes on next to the window would have meant risking her life. She leaned her forearms across his broad back and blew cigarette smoke gently into his face, smiling as he winced slightly. It had been months since he last remonstrated to her about how unhealthy her habit was.

“Dear Allen. You do not have to hesitate if you wish to speak to me.”

He turned to look up into her face and he had tears in his eyes.

“I come here and pretend that you adore me, that you think I’m such a fantastic guy.”

She tried to interrupt, but he put his hand gently to her lips.

“It’s OK. This is why a man comes…well, to a place like this. To let himself pretend for a while. But how can I pretend anything when I know I’m the world’s biggest bastard.”

This time she pushed his hand roughly away from her mouth.