A Quiet Man (Victor Book 9)

by Tom Wood

  She said, ‘Your concern, as always, is appreciated,’ and hung up.

  McAllan handed the phone back to his man, who said, ‘What now?’

  ‘I’d say that’s obvious, isn’t it?’ McAllan said back. ‘Now we know who the fisherman is not, we find out who he really is.’

  His man nodded.

  McAllan said, ‘So I’d say we need to go and have a little word with Mr Murdoch.’

  A loud throat-clearing announced another of McAllan’s henchmen entering the kitchen.

  This one said, ‘A Mr Murdoch is here to see you.’

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Victor knew little about houses, about real estate, beyond how to break into them and how best to kill those inside. He knew how to jimmy windows, pick locks, avoid motion sensors and disable alarms. He knew what kind of doors would stop a suppressed nine mil and those that would not. He knew where floorboards were likely to creak and where they were firmest. He knew if he snapped someone’s neck in the kitchen that other occupants would hear the breaking vertebrae echoing upstairs.

  McAllan’s house was about three thousand square feet on the ground floor. Maybe another two on the floor above. The grounds were huge. The building was grey stone built in a European style, as if this house was not twenty years old but two hundred, nestled in the English countryside instead of in a millionaire’s neighbourhood in Canada.

  Victor took mental snapshots as he was led through the downstairs hallways by one of McAllan’s bulky henchmen. It was one of the three who had turned up outside Michelle’s house. That man had been surprised when Victor showed up here, and had called ahead to someone inside, maybe McAllan or another of his men, and waited for a reply before letting Victor inside. A reasonable system but no obstacle for Victor should it come to it.

  Compared to the hardened paramilitaries guarding a people trafficker, the fortress-like casino home of a cartel patron, or the elite bodyguards of an arms dealer, McAllan’s security barely qualified as such. He thought it was enough because he had no idea what it really took to be safe. McAllan wouldn’t sleep a wink if he knew the truth.

  The guy leading Victor through the house kept glancing back over his shoulder as if Victor might not be there, might have slipped away in the intervening seconds. Victor didn’t tell him that it should be Victor walking in front, not him, that then he wouldn’t need to check.

  The lack of effective security suggested Linette was right about her father. Victor couldn’t imagine McAllan involved in any business that might have dangerous repercussions if his men didn’t even know how to escort a stranger to their boss in their boss’s own home.

  McAllan was sitting at a breakfast bar, although there was no breakfast before him. He wore a red tracksuit and had a slight sheen to his face, suggesting the clothes weren’t just for comfort.

  ‘Wilson Murdoch.’

  Victor said, ‘Thank you for seeing me.’

  ‘Don’t thank me just yet. What can I do for you?’

  ‘Have you made any progress looking for Michelle and Joshua?’

  ‘Any progress?’ McAllan asked.

  ‘You told me yesterday that you were concerned for a missing employee.’

  ‘That’s right. I did.’

  Victor remained silent.

  ‘The answer is no,’ McAllan said. ‘No progress regarding them. I’m going to take a wild guess and say you haven’t found them either.’

  Victor ignored McAllan’s inquisitive look and the accusatory stares of his henchmen. He ignored the tension in the room because he was the only man not tense.

  He said, ‘I don’t care what you do to make your money. I don’t care if you bribe officials or intimidate union bosses or break their bones. I don’t even care if you bury your rivals out in the woods. I’m no threat to you. In fact, I can be the best friend you ever had if you help me achieve my objective. All I want is to find Joshua and his mother.’

  ‘I don’t know where they are,’ McAllan said. ‘I have nothing to do with their disappearance. That’s not who I am. If that’s what you think then you’re looking in the wrong direction.’

  ‘Should I be looking in the direction of the Nameless?’

  McAllan hesitated, then said, ‘Why do you think that?’

  ‘Michelle dated one of their meth cooks, Abraham. I went to see him. Now, he’s dead.’

  ‘Dead?’

  Victor nodded. ‘He’s dead, and one of the bikers has been watching me.’

  ‘Has been?’

  ‘I convinced him it wasn’t the best use of his time.’

  McAllan understood how such a conversation might have gone down. ‘And what now?’

  ‘I expect Castel will be in a hurry to speak to me.’

  McAllan smirked. ‘Rather you than me.’

  ‘Do you and he do any business together?’

  McAllan sat back. ‘I’m in construction not drugs.’

  ‘That’s not answering my question.’

  ‘I don’t do business with Castel. I’m insulted at the very suggestion. He’s an animal. He’s inhuman.’

  ‘But you did once upon a time,’ Victor said. ‘That’s how you know what he’s like. Unless you’re going to try and convince me you play golf together at the country club.’

  McAllan said nothing.

  ‘You’re in construction now because you make more money, but that’s not how you started out, is it? You and Castel go way back.’

  McAllan was silent.

  Victor said, ‘Why are you trying to run me out of town?’

  ‘Who says I am?’

  ‘You told the motel manager to get rid of me.’

  McAllan huffed. ‘And a fine job he’s done of it. But that was then. That was before. Now, I want to keep you around for a while.’

  Victor waited.

  ‘You didn’t step into my back yard and expect to go unnoticed, did you? Because I’m like a satellite in orbit with all sorts of lenses fixed on this here fair town, watching, analysing. I see all. I see you before me as Wilson Murdoch, but that must be some kind of magic trick because the real Murdoch is on life support in his mom and dad’s back room. He’s got tubes stuck in every orifice. Must be hell on the parents, but they’re good Catholics. So, you’re no magic trick. Just a trick.’

  Victor didn’t react. He saw McAllan wasn’t bluffing. The man had done his homework. Whatever his level of physical security, McAllan made up for it elsewhere. Outside help, Victor assumed, because none of McAllan’s guys looked like they knew how to run that kind of background check. But it would take more than checking databases to unravel Victor’s legend because it was solid enough to fool Linette. Which made Victor curious as to who McAllan was using because that person was the kind of threat Victor could do without.

  McAllan, looking pleased with himself, continued: ‘Like I said, I want you to stick around. Because now I know you’re not Wilson Murdoch I don’t want you going anywhere until I find out who you really are.’

  Victor said, ‘Do you know what happened to Joshua and Michelle?’

  ‘I already told you.’

  ‘You told me you didn’t have anything to do with their disappearance.’

  ‘I didn’t, I swear,’ McAllan said, leaning forward. He pointed a fat finger at his own face. ‘Look me right in my eyes and see for yourself if I’m lying. Well, am I?’

  The answer was no, which was why Victor began backing out of the kitchen.

  McAllan said, ‘But that doesn’t mean we’re through. Because I can’t help but wonder why a man on an innocent fishing vacation needs to travel under a false passport in the name of a guy who pisses in one bag and craps in another. Not the kind of thing that usually happens in a quiet town like this, is it?’ He glanced around at his guys as if looking for a correction. When none came, he added, ‘Which makes this whole thing a door I’d really like to peek beyond.’

  His tone emphasised the implicit threat and his eyes almost shone with a smug gleefulness. McAllan expected Vic
tor to back down because he was used to people backing down.

  ‘Not all doors are meant to keep you out,’ Victor said before he headed for the exit. ‘Some doors are closed to protect you from what lies on the other side.’

  THIRTY-SIX

  Castel’s house was never quiet. Not in the day, not in the night. Not ever. It was a drum machine set to a continuous steady rhythm of percussion because it had long ceased to be only his house. His home was the home of the Nameless. At least half of them lived here at any one time. As such it buzzed with activity at all hours. He had a small crew but they were always busy. There was always something to do. Business never slept, and neither did the Nameless.

  And they partied as hard as they worked. While meth was being bagged in the kitchen, reefers were smoked in the adjoining dining room. While shipments were arranged in one bedroom, dicks were getting sucked in the bedroom next door.

  The Nameless were all men, but they had wives or girlfriends – and some had both. Castel encouraged courtships because he never wanted his men to be single. He never wanted them without something to lose.

  He welcomed those wives and girlfriends to his house and always took the time to get to know them and to make them feel part of the extended family. He wanted them around even when their men were away for long periods running his business. He wanted them around so those men away on long periods had someone to come back to as well as someone they would have to leave behind should they get greedy.

  That had never happened yet, but Castel had been quick to betray every boss he had ever worked for and knew one of his men someday betraying him was inevitable.

  He almost felt sorry for whichever wife or girlfriend was left behind as a result because he would have to make them suffer greatly to show his remaining men the price of earning his displeasure.

  Because Castel made an effort to get to know those wives and girlfriends he recognised who screamed even though they were downstairs and he was lying on his bed in the last throes of his oxy high.

  He dragged himself off the bed and headed downstairs and into the resulting commotion.

  ‘Let me through,’ he shouted as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

  Most of the Nameless were gathered in the hallway. Wives and girlfriends too. There were many ashen faces, many expressions of disgust and distress and anger.

  Everyone was looking at the guy he’d sent to watch the motel for the fisherman. That particular Nameless was slumped on the floor, unable to stand in his exhaustion and pain.

  Everyone was looking at the Smoker’s face.

  ‘I came … straight here,’ he managed to say.

  Castel said, ‘Why? You should have gone to the hospital.’

  ‘I came straight here,’ he said again.

  ‘The fisherman did this to you?’

  The man nodded. ‘He’s looking for Abe’s ex … her kid. If you know what happened to them … you need to tell him. Otherwise he’s coming.’

  Castel lowered himself into a squat. ‘He did this to you and then threatened me?’

  The Smoker nodded again. Pointed at the huge open wound where one cheek should have been. ‘He said … he’ll do worse to you.’

  ‘Will he indeed?’ Castel rose and looked at his two men nearby who were waiting in expectation. ‘Take him to the hospital. Make sure he’s looked after then come back here. Get back here fast. Get back here fast because we’re riding out.’

  ‘Yes, chief,’ one Nameless said.

  ‘Fast,’ the other said.

  Castel addressed the rest of his men. Every one of the Nameless was now in close proximity; even those who had been outside or upstairs had been drawn to the screams and commotion.

  ‘An attack on one of us is an attack on all of us,’ Castel said, touching his cheek as if the wound was his own.

  Nods of agreement.

  Murmurs of anticipation.

  Castel approached each of his uninjured men in turn, touching their cheeks one after the other. His small ice-blue eyes were fierce and unblinking and glistening with tears.

  ‘I am vengeance.’

  One of the Nameless said, ‘I am vengeance.’

  ‘I am vengeance,’ another said, louder.

  Castel screamed, ‘WE ARE VENGEANCE.’

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  No one watched Victor leave McAllan’s property. The guy who had led him through the house followed Victor to the front door, finally getting it right, but only because Victor had begun walking first. The door slammed shut behind him and he approached his truck. It was parked on the gravel driveway, which was circular, set around an elaborate fountain carved in a likeness of the goddess Venus.

  The black wrought-iron gates buzzed open.

  Not to facilitate Victor’s exit but to allow Linette to drive into the property.

  She was in her cruiser and dressed for another shift. Surprised to see him.

  She parked and climbed out of the car. ‘What are you doing here?’

  Victor said, ‘I could ask you the same thing.’

  ‘I need to speak to my dad.’

  ‘Your dad? He was McAllan yesterday.’

  ‘What’s your point?’

  Victor didn’t answer.

  ‘I’m allowed to have a relationship with my father,’ Linette said. ‘Whatever he does and whatever I do doesn’t change the fact he’s my father and I’m his daughter.’

  ‘I never said otherwise.’

  ‘Then why are you trying to make me feel guilty about it?’

  ‘All I’m doing is looking for Joshua and his mother.’

  She took a calming breath. Exhaled. ‘Still nothing?’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t think your father is involved in their disappearance.’

  ‘I told you that.’

  ‘But that doesn’t mean he’s not connected.’

  ‘What?’

  Victor said, ‘He’s done business with Castel in the past.’

  ‘Bullshit.’

  ‘There’s no need for that kind of language.’

  ‘When you call my dad a drug dealer then yeah, there is.’

  ‘That’s not what I said. He has a past relationship with the Nameless.’

  She looked away, then back. ‘Even if that was true, what has it got to do with Michelle and Joshua?’

  ‘I’ll tell you when I know.’

  ‘Don’t say you’re going to see Castel next?’

  Victor shook his head. He didn’t tell Linette that he didn’t need to go and see Castel because Castel was going to come to him. He wanted her as far away as possible from what would follow.

  Linette said, ‘After I’ve finished here I’ll be back at my desk and checking records. If Michelle has used her credit card then I’ll know where she’s been.’

  ‘She won’t have.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ Linette said. ‘I’m not ready to give up on them just yet.’

  ‘I’m not giving up.’

  She stared at him for a moment. ‘Yeah, I can see that. And I still don’t know why.’

  ‘Because if I don’t find them no one else will.’

  ‘You know, I’m right here.’

  ‘I’m just being realistic.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. I remember. You think I’m going to let the case go cold.’

  ‘The case is going to go cold,’ Victor said. ‘It’s not about whether you let it or not.’

  ‘Two things. One: how do you know it will go cold, and two: I’m getting a little tired of your assumptions about my competence. I’m a good cop. I’m going to do everything I can.’

  ‘And it won’t be enough,’ Victor said.

  ‘There you go again.’

  ‘Do you know where they are?’

  ‘Of course not, otherwise—’

  ‘Do you know why they’re missing?’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘Do you know who they left with that morning?’

  ‘How could I?’

  ‘Do you have a motiv
e?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you have a suspect?’

  She said nothing.

  ‘People aren’t complicated,’ Victor said. ‘Something has happened to Joshua and his mother and at this moment in time neither you nor I know what that something is.’

  ‘And I’m going to find out.’

  ‘It’ll be too late by then.’

  Linette sighed. ‘Okay, let’s roll with your pessimistic prediction. If you have no faith that I can do anything, why the hell should I believe that you can do any better?’

  ‘Please don’t blaspheme.’

  ‘Are you kidding me?’

  ‘Not even a little bit.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘I’m not even going to waste a second of my mental energy trying to unpack that because I have a missing mother and her son to find. But, you didn’t answer my question: why should I think you can actually find them yourself?’

  Victor thought about what he knew and what he didn’t know. He thought about McAllan and Castel and Michelle and Joshua and the utter lack of answers he had to an exponentially growing list of questions.

  He said, ‘Right now, I don’t think I’m going to find them. There’s too much I don’t understand and not enough time.’

  ‘Have a little faith,’ Linette said. ‘All we can do is try.’

  ‘I’m going to do more than try,’ Victor said. ‘I’m going to do whatever it takes.’

  With pursed lips she stared at him, and he left her on the driveway. She was still standing in the same place as he drove away.

  At Michelle’s house the elderly couple on the porch next door were shaking their heads before he’d finished braking. He nodded their way and set off again.

  The Smoker’s cell phone rang. An unknown number.

  Victor answered and said, ‘I was wondering when you would call.’

  ‘Where are you?’ Castel asked. ‘You’re not at the motel.’

  ‘I’m close by.’

  ‘Why did you hurt my man?’

  Victor said, ‘You know why.’

  ‘Nuh-uh,’ Castel said. ‘I know some lie about Abe’s ex and her kid. I don’t know the real reason. But whatever the reason, it won’t matter. It won’t help you.’