Out of Promises (28 page)

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

Valerie sat in a cab nursing Bill’s small Smith and Wesson revolver in the palm of her hands, watching it blankly as she observed its small, made for close range, barrel.  It was exactly what she needed for when she gets close enough to Matherson.

The roads were covered in melting ice.  They’d been ploughed, but not salted.  The salt trucks were out, just not enough to cope with the whole city at once.  The morning traffic soon took care of it though, rolling on and on like a never ending stream of water turning the ice into a dirty, black slush.

She was still some miles from Hellman’s.  The place where her life was decided for her.  The place that would soon become a detached memory.  A lot had happened in the last two days.  She knew going to Hellman’s wouldn’t end it all, but it would release her.  She could almost feel the dark cloud over her head burning away.

The cab stopped sharply, forcing her forward a few inches before hitting the back of her seat again as a dog ran into the road.

The driver said, ‘Next time I won’t stop.’

She ignored him and looked around.  The interior was clean.  She’d been in plenty of cabs, but not many as clean as this one.  Often there were stains in the back that had a story to tell.  She’d even made some herself on a rare night out.  And they were rare, which was why she had to enjoy it as much as she could, hangover or not.

This cab had a TV screen on the back of each front seat showing pictures of the city with the best and cheapest restaurants and tourist destinations, each one remaining on screen for a few seconds before changing to a completely different picture.  A picture she didn’t like.  A picture of Bill, and she was right next to him.  An e-fit of her had been released in the last few minutes.

Holy fucking shit.

The caption underneath read: DO NOT APPROACH.  CALL THIS NUMBER IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION.

Has the driver seen this?

She looked back through the rear window at cars and bikes of all different shapes and sizes weaving in and out, filtering away into side streets.  Cyclists shot passed her cab in a smug like manner, which she hated.  Then she saw it: her battered car.  With Bill behind the wheel.

She took a twenty out and pushed it through the gap in the metal divider between her and the driver. ‘Can you go any faster?’

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT

Cook walked away from the restaurant unnoticed and thankful to be in one piece.  Matherson had been taken and he didn’t know where.  What was he to do now?  He didn’t want to risk going back to the office again, surely it was being watched and there was nobody left he could turn to.  Nobody high enough to help anyway.

He just walked aimlessly through the city with the events of the restaurant playing on his mind.  East.  South.  East again.  It didn’t matter.

Sure, his time with Matherson had its ups and downs but he never expected this to happen.  He thought Matherson would pull through these difficult times.  Now he was alone.  He thought about going to the Southbrook P.D. when he heard something behind him.  Footsteps.

Shit.

He continued on his path, turning random corners to see if he was just being paranoid.

The footsteps stayed with him.

He took a left.

They stayed.

One more turn and he would have to do something.

Then they stopped.

Thank God.

He checked behind and there was nobody following.  It was time for him to find a crowded area.  Time for a breather in a place he felt comfortable.

He found a crowded cafe with fast food and a large turnover of customers.  It was perfect.  It was busy.  It was French, which a lot of cafes in Southbrook seemed to be.  Plenty of people would notice him, but wouldn’t notice him long enough to remember any specifics unless something happened.

After ordering a coffee, he took a seat in a corner with a clear view of the entrance.

For a while, he sipped the black, bitter coffee little by little.  Nobody of interest came in, just the busy workers of the city.  White, Black, Asian, any number of religions and different paths of life flooded through.  None of them bothered him until he noticed a brunette.  She was beautiful and he couldn’t take his eyes from her.  She stood at the counter and ordered something which he couldn’t quite hear, or didn’t care about.  Sitting there, he looked at her slim, bare legs pour out of a short, brown skirt and fall into knee length black boots.

She must be warm blooded.

She glanced over to him and smiled.  He didn’t know or care why.  All his cares in the world had vanished at that point.

Walking over, she asked in a foreign accent, ‘Is this seat taken?’

He couldn’t quite place it.  European of some kind, he figured.  Maybe Russian.  He just smiled and said, ‘No.  Help yourself.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Can I help you with something?’ he asked.

‘I need your help please.’

‘Help?’

‘I need directions to the train station.  I am here visiting my brother.  He left me at his home so I came shopping and have got lost.’

‘It’s easy to get lost here.  I’ll tell you.’

‘Can you show me please?  I am not good with remembering.’

He smiled at her.  He liked her accent.  Taking her to the station, though, was too dangerous.

‘I can write down the directions, but I won’t take you I’m sorry.’

‘What is your name?’

‘Jason,’ he lied.

‘My name is Alicia.’

‘Why would you ask a complete stranger to take you to the train station?’

‘I think your face looks kind and I like men with blonde hair.’

‘Why did you really ask me?’

‘I just told you.’

‘OK, I just thought it was strange, that’s all.’

‘You don’t want to help me?’

‘No.’  He sighed.  ‘I’ll help.’

Finishing up their drinks, they walked out into the bright sunlight of the city, and onto the busy street, and the cold, with the sunlight trying desperately to penetrate the ice and slush.

Shoppers were still out to find the Christmas bargains, which meant there were more witnesses if this lady wasn’t who she said she was.

He was cold.  Alicia certainly was.  She hooked her arms into his.  He didn’t move it away.  Instead, he just walked her the correct way to the station hoping that being with company would make him less of a target.

Alicia asked, ‘How far is the station?’

‘Not too far away now.’

The crowd thinned out slightly and the sound of footsteps caught his ears.  A familiar sound.  The same sound he’d heard following him earlier.

Was he being paranoid?  It’s just the sound of shoes on the sidewalk.  Any number of shoes could make that sound.

He kept quiet and continued walking. 
Left, right, left
.  The sound echoed around him. 
Left, right, left
.  He started sweating, even in this chill.  They grew louder.  He couldn’t take it much longer.

He shook her arm from his and started walking faster.

‘Jason?’ she asked.  ‘Why are you walking so fast?’

He got ahead of her.  He had to get away.  He shouldn’t have left the cafe.  He didn’t bother looking back to see where Alicia was.  He didn’t care about her anymore.  She could find her own way to the station.

At a crossroads, he came to a stop.  The lights were green.  He waited for the ‘WALK’ sign to appear before crossing, his heart raced.  He couldn’t stop here, he was too exposed.

He glanced behind him, she was gaining on him.

Why didn’t I just say no?

He waited.

Footsteps came up fast behind him.  He didn’t turn to look at her, focusing all of his energy on the signal, waiting for it to blink.  He was anxious.  The lights needed to change; they had to.  He wanted to run, but cars shot passed from both directions.  He had to find another quiet place to hide, and fast.

Then the ‘WALK’ signal blinked.  He stepped off the sidewalk when a black van halted in front of him.  His feet slid on the slush as he tried to stop, not knowing what to do.  It all happened so fast.  The door opened and he felt two hands on his back push him inside.  The darkness engulfed him and the door slid closed.

CHAPTER FORTY NINE

Heading up to the office, Valerie moved around restlessly in the elevator cab, which was taking forever.  The numbers above the door counted upwards.  Six.  Seven.  Eight.  She felt her pocket for Bill’s revolver and took it out.  In her mind Matherson and Cook would be in the reception area talking, laughing even.  She’d shoot Cook first, and then Matherson.  Two bullets in less than five seconds and two dead bodies.

Ten.

Come on.

Eleven.

Taking a deep breath, she raised the weapon.

Twelve.

The doors parted and she stepped out, met with an empty reception room.  She aimed left and right, aiming at nothing and everything.  She was alone.

Fuck.

The tall office doors stood in front of her.

Composing herself, she went for them, bursting through into the office.

The desk sat empty.  She checked the meeting room to the side, which was also empty.  The dark cloud above her head stayed where it was.

Motherfucker.

Behind her. The elevator pinged.  She spun on the balls of her feet, aiming through the wide open office doors, fixed on the spot.

Bill stepped out, immediately ducking and raising his hands.  She didn’t shoot, although it was tempting.  He was the last person she wanted to see.

They just watched each other for a few seconds.  Could she shoot him?  She certainly felt like it.  But instead, she lowered the weapon.

He walked towards her.

‘Don’t get in my way, Bill.’

‘What are you doing?  You could have been killed.’

‘Like Jackson?  Get out of here.’

He ignored her and looked around.  ‘This place is nice.’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I followed your cab.’

‘Why?  Jackson is dead.  I don’t need your help anymore.’

‘Freddie’s killer is still out there, Valerie.  We need to find him.’

‘I don’t need your kind of help, fuck off.’

He walked to the windows.  ‘You can see the whole city from here.  Sure looks nice covered in snow.’

She walked into the meeting room where she found a blood stain on the floor.

Jackson.

Not wanting to show vulnerability in front of Bill, she held it together and walked over to the filing cabinets.  Each one was filled with paperwork relating to each business Matherson owned.  She searched through each drawer, emptying them completely.  They were full of bank statements, outgoings, incomings, all stuff she didn’t care about.

Bill walked in and said, ‘I owe you an explanation.’

‘You don’t need to explain shit to me.  You lied to me all along.  You knew about the tape.  You used me and I let you have me.  What an idiot I am.  And now my face is all over the city along with yours.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘You’re sorry?  Why are you even here?’

‘I’m trying to help you find Freddie’s murderer.’

‘Help me?  Right.  You’ve been slowing me down, keeping me busy.’

‘Hey!’ he snapped.  ‘I’ve been helping you.  I saved your life.’

‘You’ve just about ended it.  Answer me this, Bill.  If you had the tape then why did we go and see fat Dave?’

‘I needed to see if there were any other copies.’

‘Why?  That tape has nothing to do with you.  It shows Freddie, Preston and Wong’s murderer doesn’t it?  Do you know who killed Wong?’

‘Yes.’

‘Was it you?’

‘No.  It was the man with the scars.  His name is Cyrus.’

There he was again.  Everywhere she went, he turned up.  ‘It all makes sense now,’ she said.  ‘Everything makes sense now.  All your weirdness when Lucy was taken and how you miraculously escaped from Ada’s house without a scratch.  You’re part of the whole thing.  I should have seen it, but I was too happy to see you alive.  Something I will regret for the rest of my life.’

‘It’s not like that.  You came to me if you remember.’

‘I came to you for help after finding your name and address in Freddie’s apartment.  For all I know you planted it there for me to find you.’

‘What possible reason would I have for that?’

She’d heard enough.  She walked up to him and slapped him.  ‘You tell me.  Get out of here and leave me alone, OK?’

Unwilling, he left the room and watched the world through the large windows in the office again.

She continued searching through the files for any indication of Matherson’s whereabouts.  She wouldn’t find Freddie’s murderer any time soon, but she’d be sure to find Jackson’s.

Bill shouted from the office, ‘We’ve got company.’

She joined him at the windows and peered down to the parking lot.  ‘Shit.’

‘Indeed.’

‘See you later, Bill,’ she said, quickly walking to the elevator.