Minions (29 page)

“So me taking an interest in Angie is good,” Devlin
thought for a moment.  “And how’s this different from David’s interest in
Tania’s brother?”

There was no surprise on Glen’s face as he spoke.  “I
can’t tell you definitively what was going on in David’s mind, but I can
guess.  I’d prefer it if we left it at that.  Would it help if I said I expect
you to do what’s right?  That’s why I employed you, and that’s why I need you
to stay.”

“So who’s Malcolm then?”

Glen thought for a moment, as if considering whether
disclosure was warranted.  “He was a Reader.” 

“So why all the mystery about him?”

“We had a difference of opinion.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s not supposed to ‘mean’ anything.  It’s just a
statement of fact and I’m sure that you’ll work it out eventually.  Do what you
need to do.  There’s nothing here that won’t keep until you get back.”

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 57.
               
 

Devlin left the bunker and headed for the street.  His
plan was to get a decent coffee, but thereafter his plan was decidedly
limited.  As he crossed the street, he was oblivious to the opening and closing
of a car door to his rear.  Only after he’d ordered his latté, to go, did
Detective Reymond make his presence known, ordering his own coffee.  Devlin
acknowledged the Detective but said nothing.

“I’m actually not here to see you,” said the Detective. 
“I’m looking for Michael Donovan.  I know you’re driving his car, so it’s
reasonable to expect you to have an inkling you might know where he is.”

“Sorry.  I can’t help.  I don’t know where he is.”

“So where are you going?” Reymond enquired.

“I don’t rightly know.  I’ll let you know if I see him.”

“That’s interesting, Devlin.”  Reymond scratched his lip
as he thought.  “You work with him, you drive his car, and Morris at the hotel
described you as Michael’s,
Ikel’s
,
close friend.  So why would
it be that you’d use the term ‘
if
’, not ‘
when
’, to describe when
you expect to see him next.”

“Would you believe that I really don’t know where he is?”

“Possibly.  I’m just a little concerned, particularly
given that you work for an organisation where employees die at a rate far above
the norm.”  Reymond took as large a gulp of his coffee as its temperature would
allow. 

“I honestly don’t know where he is.”

“So do you know what’s going on with you and LastGasp’?”

“I have no idea,” Devlin replied earnestly.

“I believe you.  What’s happening here precedes your
arrival on the scene.  You’re just the latest.”

Reymond slipped into a more comfortable but formal mode. 
“What I do know is that Donovan’s uncle died today.  Nothing suspicious, just a
heart attack apparently, but now I know that virtually all of the names on your
list are now dead.  Call it a duty of care or what you like, but I’m obligated
to take an interest.”

“So how many of them are dead?” Devlin enquired with
genuine interest. 

“All but three, including Whitely.”

Devlin reached for the list from his back pocket and
scanned the contents.  He looked top to bottom over the names, and then bottom
to top.  “Malcolm isn’t on the list!”  Devlin couldn’t hide his puzzlement.

“I’ve shelved my interest in Malcolm for now.  I’m
actually looking into the whereabouts of your friend Ikel.  This might affect
you too.”

“You don’t understand.  Malcolm isn’t on the list!” 
Devlin put his lidded take-away cup onto an adjacent table and laid out his
list on the table for Reymond to see.  “Whitely said Malcolm was a reader, but
he’s not on this list.”

Reymond verified the point, checking his own copy.  “So
what does that mean?”

“I have no idea!”  Devlin grabbed his coffee and drank
until he was doing little more than sucking the residual froth through the
lid.  “But I figure Whitely will know.  You might like to come with me.”

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 58.
               
 

Tania Wilson received the days post with a little
apprehension.  Not long before Tim died she received word that her landlord was
selling her apartment and today was the day for the completion of the sale.  As
such she expected to receive a hand delivered note of some description from the
new owner, realistically or not.  It technically didn’t really affect her as
the new owner was apparently keen to see her continue as a tenant.  Though
while it was nothing she could control, there was something stressful about it
all.  She resented that this was just an unwelcome reminder that she was just
the tenant, and given the perpetual struggle to pay the rent, it was unlikely
that her circumstances would improve either.  This in turn reminded her that
despite her brother’s passing, she received nothing from his estate and thus
being a tenant was sure to be something that she would have to get used to.

Nothing arrived by post, but sure enough the rental agency
emailed her to
advise
that the new owner, cum landlord, would visit in
the afternoon, provided that she was not otherwise occupied.  She understood
that the request was little more than a nicety, and that she was expected to
meet the guy this afternoon.  Of course, to formally set a time for this
meeting was apparently too much to ask, and had she not been frantically
preparing for the implicit landlord inspection, she would have been angry for
the inconvenience of the wait.

Cleaning her flat however, was not the real source of her
stress.  That her sponsor cum friend, Cat, was not even answering her calls was
the final demoralising blow.  Her ally, someone who understood her completely,
right down to similar mistakes, regrets and circumstances, was abandoning her
too.  For the first time, she felt that she was entirely on her own.  She
didn’t have the support of any family, let alone friends, even from afar.  It
was an emptying thought.

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 59.
               
 

Devlin sat uncomfortably in the passenger’s seat of the
Detective’s car as before.  He’d left Ikel’s car in the car-park, hopeful that
Ikel would return to claim it, but the more he thought, the more concerned he
became.  “Why are you looking for Ikel?”

“Like I said, initially, I just needed to pass on some bad
news to the listed
next of kin
of his uncle.  Had it not been for our
meeting the other day, I would have needed to search for your friend, given
that he’d all but disappeared as far as his uncle apparently knew.

“Anyway, I still needed to do some checking.  The fact
that he wasn’t technically earning an income, as far as his money trail was
concerned, interested me.  He described himself, as did you, as essentially an
employee of LastGasp’, and that made me wonder where his money was coming
from.  I’m not necessarily distrustful, but I thought his past might not be
entirely behind him, in which case perhaps all of the LastGasp’ employees are
implicated in the same way.  When I checked all of the names on the list we discussed
earlier, it was clear that something wasn’t right.”

“How so?” 

“I know you have concerns, whether or not you’re prepared
to share these concerns with me is another matter, apparently, but don’t play
me as stupid or yourself as naïve.  I’ve been in this game for too long to be
played by amateurs.” 

Chastised, Devlin kept quiet.  “I’m interested why so many
former employees are …”

“They’re not all dead!” Devlin interrupted. 

“Actually, I was going to say that it was odd that so many
of them are so unfortunate.  But your version is perhaps more appropriate.  It
also explains your edginess.”

“I don’t think Whitely is big into visitors,” said Devlin,
changing the subject.  The fact that Reymond didn’t question the comment was
puzzling.  “You know him?”

“It was a long time ago, but I couldn’t forget Whitely.”

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 60.
               
 

The massed blooms of Whitely’s neighbours gardens offered
promise as Reymond and Devlin walked past, but the reality was that his house
smelled significantly worse in the early evening.  He braced himself and tried
to exert whatever control he had over his senses, but he feared it wouldn’t
help.  He considered briefing Reymond about what to expect, until he saw the
Detective up-end an entire container of breath mints from his pocket into his
mouth as he walked through the garden.  He fell in behind Reymond, allowing the
Detective to take the lead.

“Hi Whitely, it’s Alan, Alan Reymond.”  He announced his
arrival and marched down the hall, pausing only for his eyes to adjust to the
changing light rather than waiting for an invitation.  Devlin gingerly
followed, buoyed only after hearing Whitely’s reply, even though the reply wasn’t
friendly. 

Whitely was exactly where he’d been when Devlin saw him
last.  “I’m interested you’re here only because you’re here with the
Detective,” Whitely took his aim at Devlin, ignoring Reymond. 

“I got your message about Glen,” Devlin answered.  “But
that’s not why we’re here.”

“You know a lesser man might have worked out what I was
saying before he left.”

“OK,” Devlin accepted.  “So why didn’t you say that
Malcolm started LastGasp’ with Glen?”

“It wasn’t relevant.”

“Whitely,” Reymond tried to deflect the sniped responses. 
“What can you tell me about Michael Donovan, otherwise known as ‘Ikel’.”

“Not a lot,” Whitely replied, his focus still fixed on
Devlin.  “But can I prevent a mass of bullshit questions and pointless
provocation by saying up-front that I won’t help you interfere with anything
that doesn’t need to be interfered with.”

“You’d appreciate that comments like that make me think
that I
need
to ask.  I can fix whatever it is that …”

“If it’s not broken, it doesn’t need to be fixed.”

“David Yeardley’s death seems to be only the latest in a
long line of anomalies.”

“Anomalies?  What shit!  You were both at the scene, and
while the monkey here mightn’t know better, you, Detective, do.”

“The coroner’s report hasn’t been finalised.”

“You know full well that David’s death was a suicide.”

“But why?” Devlin asked, finally finding a voice.

“We’ve had this discussion before Devlin, but we’ll
entertain the Detective if you like.”  Whitely yawned.  “I can’t vouch for why
David would kill himself.  That much might have died with him.”

“Perhaps yes.  But it seems that he prepared a message to
be sent after he died,” said Devlin.

“Who did the message go to?”

“I would have thought you’d be interested in how we know
this, or perhaps what secrets were revealed?” Reymond probed.

“You’d be wrong.  Who did the message go to?”

“The message went to Tania Wilson,” said Devlin.  When
Whitely darted a look to the Detective, Devlin interpreted the silence as a cue
to continue.  “She’s the sister of a guy, Tim, who was killed.”

“How unfortunate,” Whitely smirked.  “What did the message
say?”

“Not a lot.  David clearly felt some sadness over the
brother’s death.  Others might have described it as guilt, but I wouldn’t
know.”

“Give yourself some credit, Devlin.”  Whitely closed his
eyes and stretched his arms towards the ceiling.  He looked at his watch and
then paused to think for a moment.  “How about I ask you a few questions?  And
sorry Detective, the offer doesn’t extend to you, but I’ll let you sit in.”  He
didn’t wait for a reply.  “First question.  Why are each of Glen’s employees
different?”

“Shouldn’t I be interested in how they are alike?” asked
Devlin.

“I’m not offering a discussion on the subject and frankly
I don’t even care if you answer or not.  But I’ll give you this for free. 
Glen’s not the bad guy, he’s just the most obvious common link between you all.”

Whitely appeared to think things through a little. 
“Actually, fuck this.  Fuck the questions.  Glen needs you for his own
conscience, just like he’s needed the others.  Whether you turn out to be part
of the problem or part of his absolution is entirely up to you.  The messages I
sent you were not intended to scare you, but were just a warning.  If nothing
else I wanted to make sure that you were aware of what you were getting
yourself into.”

The realisation came as a shock to Devlin.  “Does this
mean that you took my phone too?”

“Well not me personally.  I slipped some kid a little cash
and told him he could keep the phone, provided he gave me the SIM card inside. 
If it’s any consolation, your phone was such a piece of shit I actually had to
give him extra to keep it.”

“But why take my phone?”

The question silenced Whitely for a moment.  “Did you
believe the messages more because you understood their source?”  

“Perhaps.  You know Ikel beat up Conrad because of the
messages?”

“Ikel,” Whitely sighed.  “Glen will be disappointed.  It won’t
really matter now.  It never does.”

“What do you mean it never matters?” asked Devlin.

Whitely looked clearly un-impressed at the question. 
“Glen gives you more credit than I think you’re worth.”