North of the Rock

by Ian Jones

  ‘Morning,’ John said pleasantly.

  The man stood up, barring the way. He wasn’t tall, but very wide. He said nothing in return, just stared.

  John looked back at him impassively.

  ‘Please Mr Smith, do come in,’ a voice rang out from inside the room, and the man in front of him moved slowly aside, staring at him all the time. John gave him a beaming smile and walked in as the man sat down again.

  The room was a simple large square, with windows running along the front and back walls, the doorway was in the right hand corner at the front. Running across the back was a long table, and sitting behind it were three men. There was a single wooden chair centred in front of the table.

  The three men watched him curiously as he approached. They were evenly spaced behind the table, and John returned their gaze. The man on the left was slightly overweight, with grey hair coiffured into an elaborate style that reminded John of the KFC colonel, he was wearing an open light blue shirt with a thick thatch of grey fur visible and was smiling amiably. The centre man was tall, that was obvious even with him sitting down. He was acutely thin, with a long neck, huge pointed nose and a very prominent Adam’s apple. What little hair he had left was combed back severely. He was wearing a dark grey suit, white shirt and a blue tie done up tight. He was staring at John with narrowed eyes. The final man on the right had a battered, careworn look. His wispy hair was untidy and the check shirt he wore was creased. He watched John walking forwards but wouldn’t meet his eye.

  John stopped by the chair.

  ‘Please Mr Smith, sit down,’ the man on the left said, still smiling.

  ‘I’m fine standing thanks,’ John replied.

  ‘As you wish. Now, thank you so much for coming to see us. We do appreciate that you can spare us your time. My name is Mr Abel, and next to me on my left is Mr Barlow, and finally on the other end is Mr Cane.’

  ‘A, B, C. Very nice,’ John replied casually.

  Barlow flushed slightly, still staring. The man was angry, it was obvious. Watch him. But Abel continued to speak, still smiling.

  ‘Ha ha, yes, ABC indeed. That is amusing, nobody ever mentioned that before.’

  His voice was without the usual Texan twang, it was cultured, soft.

  ‘So what can I do for you?’ John asked patiently looking at the three men in turn. Cane still wouldn’t meet his eye.

  ‘Well Mr Smith, we were just interested in you, we’re a small town, people like to know what’s going on, they ask questions, and hey, you know how it is,’ Abel replied.

  ‘Not really.’

  Abel produced a notepad and an expensive fountain pen and wrote a heading and underlined it.

  ‘We know who you are Mr Smith!’ Barlow snapped, eyes flashing.

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yes, we do. And we want to know why you have come back, considering all the trouble you caused the last time you were here.’

  ‘Trouble I caused? I don’t recall causing any problems. And it’s funny, I don’t remember you. Any of you,’ John told him.

  ‘Oh we were around. We were working hard on making this town what it is and what it soon will be even back then,’ Barlow replied.

  ‘I can’t see the connection. Between you and Anthony Collis I mean. I would have thought you’d have been pleased to get a murderer out the way,’ John said, looking directly at Barlow.

  ‘Not a lot of people believe he is guilty,’ Abel told him.

  ‘Not a lot of people around here maybe. But out in the real world it’s a different story. And like I said, how are you connected to Collis anyway?’ John asked.

  ‘We knew Anthony, but we have no connection,’ Abel replied smoothly.

  ‘Why don’t I believe that I wonder? Seems a major coincidence to me considering. This town springing up out of nothing within ten years.’

  ‘Mr Smith, this is a busy town. For decent, hard-working folk. There is virtually no unemployment here, something I am sure you will understand we are immensely proud of. We have the plant, and soon we will have the prison, and we are also very close to finalising another huge project. What’s in the past is in the past. So, we don’t need someone coming along causing trouble, digging up ancient history, upsetting people and their way of life,’ Barlow told him, speaking quietly.

  ‘Yeah, I got that, it’s not exactly open arms here is it. I’m guessing tourism isn’t much of an industry considering the welcome I received,’ John said.

  ‘Really? Please, let me know what occurred. We always welcome newcomers,’ Abel said and took the cap off his pen again with a flourish and pressed the nib against the paper, looking at him expectantly.

  John stood up very straight and looked at him with interest.

  ‘I see. Well, OK, then let’s just pretend you have no idea. I didn’t even make it into my motel room before I was picked up by that fat idiot of a sheriff, who took me to the station with no mention of why, he just appeared to believe he could throw me in a cell without any particular reason. But I was able to resolve that very quickly. That would have been enough, but then later that same day, and this is just last night by the way, a couple of gentlemen wanted to discuss me leaving town. But again, they changed their minds. And I get the feeling you men know all about these occurrences.’

  Abel had been preparing to make a list, froze, and then looked at Barlow.

  ‘I think you need to be careful what you say, what you are accusing me of. Us of,’ Barlow told him.

  Abel put the cap back on his pen and began to toss it up in his right hand a few inches, it landed back in his podgy open palm with a soft plop, and he repeated it, over and over again.

  John stepped forward. Immediately he heard the man behind him at the door get out of his chair. He leaned deliberately on the table.

  ‘Just to be completely clear, none of this shit intimidates me. None of it. I don’t care who you are, or should I say who you think you are and I really don’t care what you think about me. I also can’t be bothered working out why you would invite me along here today. But I would bet a substantial sum on you all knowing what went down last night. Abel, Barlow, Cane. ABC? Cane and Abel? I’d say very clever but it isn’t. We all know if I start taking a close look then I’ll find the connection to Anthony Collis, plus a whole lot more I’m sure.’

  The pen was still being tossed in the air; throw, plop, throw, plop.

  He stepped back and gave a quick glance behind. The man from the doorway was now standing in front of the chair in the middle of the room. John took another step back, and then whirled around, pushing the man hard with both hands at the top of his chest using all his strength. With a loud gasp the man fell backwards over the chair and crashed onto the floor, striking his head hard. John jumped over and stood solidly on the man’s throat with his right foot and reached into the jacket, withdrawing yet another new Beretta. He flicked out the clip and checked the chamber which was empty. He looked down at the man on the floor who was staring at the table and struggling to breathe while vainly trying to push John’s leg away.

  John pushed the magazine into the pocket of his jeans, worked the slide pulling it off the gun and putting that in with the clip and then threw the Beretta onto the table, where it slid between Barlow and Cane and onto the floor behind them with a crash. He lifted his foot off the man on the floor and moved back.

  ‘So you think this scares me? You’re looking to intimidate me? Jesus, look at this guy. This is a hard man? Sure, I bet he’s had a whole lot of fights in his life, but it looks to me he never won a single fucking one of them. You three have fucked up. The three wise men? Don’t make me laugh. I am only warning you once. Don’t make an enemy out of me. Leave me in peace and I will do the same.’

  Without waiting for an answer, he walked out of the room.

  The three men behind the table watched him leave while the one on the floor dazedly struggled to sit up. Cane turned in his seat and picked the gun up off the floor and laid it on the table.
>
  ‘Jesus Christ,’ he said wearily.

  ‘Who the hell is this guy?’ Abel asked.

  ‘That’s what you were supposed to be telling me!’ rasped Barlow. ‘All you found out is he used to be, and that is “used to be” some government guy, and before that a soldier. You told me nothing else. I asked you to find out before we met him. You got nothing, and that isn’t very helpful. I mean what is he doing now?’

  ‘It’s not easy, I can’t just call Downing Street. I don’t have any idea who he is. Nobody seems to know.’

  ‘Find out,’ Barlow ordered. ‘I want to know everything there is to know about him and fast. And get Hunter back in here. In a couple of days, we get the paperwork signed and we are set for life. Nobody will ever dare to fuck with us again. A couple of days, that is all we have to go and this guy could undo everything if we don’t keep him in check. I suggest you call Thomas, if you haven’t already. It’s about time he earned his money.’

  ‘Thomas?’ Abel asked. ‘But I thought you wanted to steer clear of the FBI.’

  ‘They just pay his salary. The FBI don’t own Thomas. I do. We do.’

  ‘But he’s saying he needs to be careful, things have changed, they are watching him.’

  ‘Why would I be interested in that? We’ve paid him a lot of cash over the years, now he needs to do some real work.’

  He got to his feet. His tall angular frame stooping as he walked around the table pushing past Cane.

  ‘I want this resolved. I mean it.’

  He looked at the man on the floor.

  ‘Pathetic Jamie, I am very disappointed. He made you look ridiculous.’

  He walked across the room and stopped by the door and looked back at Abel and Cane.

  ‘This ends. He cannot go to see Collis, he is not to talk to anyone, I want him gone. This goes no further, he is not allowed to start digging around in my town. Am I understood?’

  Abel nodded and Barlow glared at the two men then walked from the room.

  Outside, John stretched in the sunshine and walked back along the street towards the motel, dropping the clip into a bin then doing the same thing with the slide along the way. He felt good, in his mind the sheriff was round one, the men the previous night round two, and the meeting round three and he had won them all. He knew that there would be further action, but he would be waiting.

  He stopped at the coffee shop, which was a clone of every big brand variant he had ever been in and sat down in the window with a latte. A large well-polished black Cadillac rolled past, Barlow sitting bolt upright in the back.

  John had a lot of questions. There was definitely something going on here.

  He took his time and then finished up and left, walking back down the street. He had got to the corner opposite the diner when his phone rang; it was Patrick.

  ‘Hi Patrick.’

  ‘Hey John, well I done some digging, you may want to take a seat.’

  ‘Ok.’

  John walked quickly back to the motel and up to his room, then sat on the bed.

  ‘Ok, so I’m gonna start with Mr Gilbey. I think you may be interested in this.’

  ‘What did you find out?’

  ‘Well, it ain’t easy finding anything out about military personnel. There’s a lot of them and they don’t like sharing, but Gilbey is a reasonably uncommon name I figured, and I found him.’

  ‘That’s good, it would be handy to know.’

  ‘Well John, Gilbey wasn’t a Marine.’

  ‘Shit,’ said John. He had liked the man, and had wanted to believe him.

  ‘Hang on. I said he wasn’t a Marine, he was the Marine. Seriously. His record is ridiculous, He has won every medal including the Medal of Honour, also the Navy Cross, Silver and Bronze Stars all over the place plus four Purple Hearts. Commendations going back to day one. He joined up when he was seventeen and went straight to Vietnam after just a few weeks basic training, in fact he did three tours out there. That’s where he got the Silver Star, plus two Purple Hearts. He served in Beirut, Liberia, Mogadishu, Albania, Bosnia, Iraq, Somalia and Afghanistan. He finally retired twelve years ago when he was sixty.’

  ‘Sixty? He was in, what, forty-something years?’

  ‘Yep. Look, I don’t have access to every detail, the military don’t work like that. But this is impressive. It looks like he was kept on just because of who he was, but he was there in the thick of it alright. The guy stayed at sergeant major, I’m guessing he didn’t want to be an officer but they must have convinced him at the end. He mustered out at major. My guess is he was an inspiration, and they wanted to keep him.’

  ‘That sounds about right,’ John commented. He could definitely see Sergeant Gilbey, out in the bullets with his men, getting his hands dirty.

  ‘Listen, this guy is the real deal. He is commander in chief of the Texas national guard for Christ’s sakes. At Fort Blunt, which is just down the road from you. So what I don’t get is why he is sitting on his hands down there? If these assholes are doing whatever they feel like.’

  ‘I asked him the same. Listen, he served all over the world. He’s got family, and they went with him. Six months in the Philippines, and then off to South Korea or Cuba, whatever. Anywhere he got posted. They did this for years and years, always moving on. He made a deal with his wife. They are both from Gray Rock so he came back here once he was out. He didn’t like what was going on and made some noise and they threatened his family, and I reckon he took that seriously. I think me being here has given him some incentive.’

  ‘Well, to me he looks like a useful guy to have onside. Now the next thing you are gonna find interesting is all about your Mr Cane.’

  ‘He’s not mine, but go on.’

  ‘The big news is William Franklin Cage served eleven years in Leavenworth, close to the Military prison. Actually got sentenced to fifteen but got out due to good behavior and a cancer scare. It’s all on record.’

  ‘Fifteen years? What the hell did he do?’

  ‘Right, well I got everything there is. Right in front of me. Cage got busted after the Dallas PD raided a house in Highland Park one evening.’

  ‘What the fuck is this about? Drugs?’

  ‘Oh no, this is a whole lot worse. The house was basically a brothel, for clientele with particular tastes. Namely not legal age. It is shocking stuff to read, really shocking. The place was run by a couple of guys who were already on the radar, PD found thirteen girls aged between twelve and fifteen and four boys about the same age. They arrested nineteen men and Cage was one of them.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘There’s more. Barlow was also there, and also arrested.’

  ‘Ok.’

  ‘Now I got all the original statements here. Cage stated it was his first time, he was invited to come along but he wasn’t told what the club was. He had expected it to be an upmarket strip joint. He didn’t take up what was on offer, he wanted to get out of there. And Barlow made the exact same statement. Identical.’

  ‘But they would have been separated, right? In custody, I mean. Kept apart? Made to give their statements individually.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess so. Both statements have different officer names on the documents, and Barlow’s was taken nearly two hours before Cage’s.’

  ‘So who was supposed to have invited them?’

  ‘Again, I think there’s something there. Remember this is all new to me, I am reading this for the first time but I can see there are a lot of procedural holes all over it. The main guy who ran the place was called Seaton, he has a record of various offences and he was arrested on the same night. Barlow claimed that Seaton was the guy who invited him, reading between the lines he actually went to some lengths to name him and make sure it was on record. My guess is that he knew that Seaton was going down whatever happened, so why not use it. And of course, Dallas PD already knew all about Seaton, and Barlow would have guessed that. But Cage refused to say anything, he wouldn’t name any names, he would just say it was
someone he met and then nothing else.’

  ‘That’s strange. So maybe somebody else other than this Seaton invited him.’

  ‘Yeah, and there’s more, and this where it really starts to stink, but this was all PD, FBI weren’t involved at all. I’m not trying to duck out of anything here, but this is bad.’

  ‘I hear you. Jesus.’

  ‘Sorry! Anyways Dallas PD went to town on the house, like you’d expect. Forensics read perfect to me. They took like a million prints, everywhere, they had skin samples, DNA, the lot. And now, it gets weird. Barlow, he got sent home. In fact, he was back in work the next day, along with a couple of others. Cage, Seaton, and most of the rest got held in Hutchins while the evidence was being gathered. This is normal for cases like this, they can’t risk anybody disappearing.’

  ‘So how in hell did Barlow get to go home?’

  ‘Barlow, and four others. All high fliers, rich men. Pharmaceuticals, oil, finance. They all got released, papers were sent to the judge for review as normal and these guys all walk out free as a bird. In fact, Barlow was detained for less than three hours after being picked up. The other fourteen are all sent to Hutchins. The forensics come back, and guess what. Barlow’s prints are all over the house. Everywhere, in fact all five of the free men are the same. But Cage, only prints for him are the living room, which was some sort of social space it seems. Nowhere else.’

  ‘Hmmm this really stinks, so maybe Cage was telling the truth, it was his first time. But Barlow was a regular, maybe he made the invite.’

  ‘That’s what I think. But it gets worse. The judge steps in, case thrown out for the five, plus eventually a couple of the others. No case to answer, no charges.’

  ‘Shit!’

  ‘Right. Which explains all the procedural problems that are evident all over it. The cops were getting pushed and pulled all over the goddamn place. It would have been a total nightmare. They were basically being told who to leave well alone. And the judge’s name? Gregory Raymer.’

  ‘Fuck. The same one that’s stirring all this shit up now.’