by Matt Hilton
They waited.
Tess pressed the bell again.
There was a scuff of shoes on concrete, but it had come from below: Pinky had left the shelter of the car to back them up should they need him.
Tess pressed the doorbell a third time; less patient, Po knuckled the door, rapping hard twice.
This time the corresponding shuffle of feet was from the other side of the door; whispers were exchanged. There was no spy hole through which visitors could be observed – the security measures were at ground level – and no CCTV camera apparent. Tess straightened up, adjusting her jacket and the handbag over her shoulder so she presented a more professional first impression. The door opened a slither and Tess opened her mouth to introduce herself. Before she got a chance a man’s voice barked, ‘Whaddaya want from me now? I agreed to your goddamn terms, didn’t I? What are you doing here … making more threats?’
The man didn’t wait for an answer; he yanked the door wide, and rushed at Tess forcing her backwards towards the safety railing.
TWELVE
It took an instant before her attacker grew aware of Po looming at Tess’s side, and an instant more for genuine alarm to register. By then Tess had begun a pivot to avoid falling headlong off the landing, and Po also swiveled, one hand slapping down on the crown of the man’s skull, the other pinching his pullover at the ribs. Po didn’t halt the man’s forward momentum; he aided it, dragging the lunging man fully out of the apartment and onto the safety rail at the head of the stairs. For a moment the man teetered dangerously, bent at the waist, head and torso over the open stairwell.
‘Quit your struggling, you sumbitch, or you’ll be taking a dive.’ Po need only give him an extra shove and the man would make a hard fall to the next landing. As the man reared back in panic, Po again utilized his weight against him, this time slamming him backwards against the doorjamb.
A young woman hurtled out, clawing at Po, but Tess grasped her and forced her aside. The woman squirmed like an eel, trying to break free, her fingernails raking at Tess. Tess’s only recourse was to wrap her arms around her and cram the girl against the wall on the opposite side of the door to avoid having her face scratched raw. ‘Calm down,’ Tess rasped. ‘We aren’t here to hurt you.’
Her words didn’t penetrate the young woman’s mind; she’d already concluded wrongly why they were there.
‘Get off him you bastard!’ she screeched at Po. ‘Haven’t you already done enough?’
Po’s captive wasn’t fighting. Po’s left palm was flat against his chest. He had flattened himself against the wall, eyelids squeezed tightly, face turned away … he exhaled an elongated hiss of pain courtesy of his spine hitting the doorjamb. Blood was on his lips but not from anything Po had done to him.
Still screeching, the young woman struggled against Tess again, but Tess kept her jammed against the wall. ‘Maddie?’ she asked, her tone brusque. ‘Are you Madison Toner?’
Hearing her name spoken, something clicked in Maddie’s brain, and she stopped struggling to gawp instead at Po. He gave her a lopsided smile before turning a sterner frown, and a few words of warning, on the man. Maddie exchanged looks with Tess. ‘Have I got your attention?’ Tess demanded. ‘Good. Now chill out. If you calm down I’ll let you go, OK?’
‘Tell him to get his hands off my dad,’ Maddie responded curtly.
‘My friend’s only making sure that nobody gets hurt. I promise you, Maddie, we’re not here to hurt you or your dad.’
‘You already hurt him, you bastards!’
‘He was stopped from making a stupid and misguided attack,’ Tess corrected her. ‘He’d have fallen over the railings, possibly taking me with him if my friend hadn’t intervened.’
‘What are you talking about?’ That was not how Maddie had perceived the brief but telling scuffle. To her, she, and more so her father, were the injured party. She again wrenched to get free. Maddie was still wrapped by Tess’s arms; their faces were too close for either of their comfort. If she wished, Maddie could sink her teeth into Tess’s cheek. Tess released her hold, putting some distance between them. She mirrored Po’s stance, her left palm to Maddie’s chest, forcing her to stand against the wall.
‘Everything fine up there?’ Pinky’s voice boomed up the stairwell. Maddie’s eyes grew large at the realization there was a third stranger to contend with.
‘Everything’s under control, Pinky,’ Tess called down. ‘We’ve got this. Now that a slight misunderstanding’s been cleared up.’
‘Good good, I’ll go back to the car, me.’
‘There’s no misunderstanding,’ Maddie snapped, ‘you hurt my dad and now you’ve come back for more.’
‘Maddie,’ said Tess slowly, ‘I don’t know who you think we are, but you’ve got things all wrong.’
‘Bullshit! You followed dad back just so you can force your point. Well, you can go back where you came from and tell your bitch boss I’m not easily frightened.’
‘Maddie … hush now,’ said her father, but Tess got the sense it wasn’t to halt her defense of him, but that she might say something she shouldn’t. He, quicker than Maddie, had obviously realized he’d mistaken her and Po for somebody else. What kind of trouble had the Toners invited? Tess knew that one of an investigator’s greatest tools was silence, allowing the other person to fill the information void. She didn’t say a word, only stared at the young woman.
‘No! I’m not going to hush, I’m not doing anything these bastards demand.’ Maddie yanked to one side, free of Tess’s control, and then she threw up both arms, gesturing aggressively, inviting Tess to try taking hold of her again. ‘Try me and see.’
Finally Tess said, ‘We’re not who you’re afraid of.’
‘Do I look afraid of you?’ Maddie postured. It was all for show. Yes she was afraid, but saying so would invite another display of fake bravado.
‘If you’re in some kind of trouble, being threatened to do something against your will, you should call the police,’ Tess said.
Her words gave Maddie pause. Tess wanted her to ask herself if anyone threatening her father would actively encourage her to call the police? Then again she might think Tess’s encouragement some kind of double bluff or veiled warning of what would happen if she did, but Tess didn’t mind confusing her. It’d make Maddie more inquisitive, and by that process, more manageable.
‘You know we can’t call the goddamn cops,’ Maddie sneered.
‘Maddie, hush.’ Her dad’s voice was strident. He glanced between Po and then his daughter, and concluded he wasn’t about to be struck for speaking. ‘Don’t say another thing. I … I’ll handle this. You just go back inside now.’
‘Sorry, bra,’ Po said. ‘I know you’ve good intentions, but we didn’t come here to speak with you.’
‘So what do you want?’
Po gave Tess the go ahead to explain. Ignoring the father, she eyed Maddie steadily. ‘Like I said, we’re not who you think. We’re private investigators, hired by her mom to locate Hayley Cameron.’
Maddie stood, mouth open. Her dad hung his head, muttering at his rash stupidity. Sensing that the prospects for further violence had ended, Po relaxed, lowering his hands and taking a step away from the man.
‘You’re only looking for Hayley?’ Maddie sought unnecessary confirmation. The truth was taking a little time to sink in.
Tess said, ‘It’s bad timing, I guess. You seem to have your own troubles to contend with, and probably aren’t interested in ours. So, how’s about you just answer a few quick questions, and we’ll get out of your hair?’
‘Is Hayley in some kind of trouble too?’
‘Not unless you know something about her that we don’t.’
Daughter and father exchanged glances. Maddie elected to spill only half-truths. ‘No. Hayley has nothing to do with this … uh, this is personal stuff, uh, family stuff.’
‘Then she isn’t in trouble,’ said Tess. ‘Her mom needs to speak with her, that’s all, but Hay
ley has gone off grid. All we need is to see her, confirm she’s safe, and ask her to return her mom’s calls. Do you know where she is, Maddie?’
Her response was to shake her head.
Po said, ‘We spoke with Jacob Doyle earlier and were told Hayley was staying here with you.’ He wasn’t exactly lying; he’d pieced together Jacob’s lies, mixed it with Stacey’s supposition, and come up with a plausible take on Hayley’s whereabouts.
‘I don’t know who that is,’ said Maddie.
‘That’s funny,’ Po continued. ‘Seeing as he’s the one been smokin’ outside your door and leavin’ all those Lucky Strike butt ends lyin’ around.’ It was a jump but another plausible conclusion that Jacob had been visiting Hayley here, and Po’s delivery sold it.
‘Oh, yeah, him,’ Maddie said, caught in a lie, but she quickly glossed over Jacob with what was another lie. ‘Hayley finished with him weeks ago. Hayley hasn’t been here in—’
‘Where is she now?’ Tess butted in, before the girl could concoct another fabrication. ‘Like I said, we only want to put her in touch with her mom.’
‘She doesn’t want to speak with her. Jessie isn’t even her real mom.’
‘We know. That’s why Jessie wants to speak, to explain things to Hayley, so there’s no more animosity between them.’ Tess purposefully brought in the father again. ‘I can tell that you guys are close, the way you stuck up for each other just now. We’d like to give both Jessie and Hayley another opportunity to be a family again.’
‘Hayley’s stubborn,’ said Maddie.
The father squinted at his daughter: yeah, he knew the stubborn type too. ‘Maddie can ask Hayley to get in touch but we can’t promise she will. You got a name and a number Maddie can give her?’
‘If you give me her number I’ll contact her directly,’ Tess suggested.
‘Uh, no.’ Again Maddie and her father exchanged glances and barely visible shakes of their heads. Maddie said, ‘Hayley’s my friend, I’m not betraying her confidence. I’ll tell her you’re looking for her and why, but if she doesn’t want to be found …’
Tess conceded. She dug again for a business card, but had given the last in her bag to Jeffrey Lorton earlier. She found a pen and piece of paper and scribbled down her cellphone number, and her name. Hayley took it from her and studied it.
‘Tess Grey?’ she asked in confirmation.
‘That’s right.’
Po elected not to give his name. Instead he gave the father some advice. ‘You should get your mouth looked at, you’ve a couple of loose teeth there.’
As if reminded of his previous injury, the man touched tremulous fingertips to his lips. He flinched. But then shrugged off any concern. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Hope you got your licks in with the fella who did that to you,’ Po went on. The man lowered his gaze, ashamed, so Po let the subject drop. However Tess wasn’t finished. She said, ‘By the way you flew at us, you thought we were the people that hurt you already. If you’re expecting them to come back, you really should do as I suggested and call the police.’
‘No, no, I overreacted. I’ve no reason to think they’ll come after me again. They’ve no need.’ The man stirred uncomfortably, again exchanging furtive looks with Maddie, almost as if his last statement was to convince her. He dabbed at his bloody lips to make a point. ‘Look, if we’re done here, I really need to get cleaned up. Maddie, you gonna help me?’
Maddie moved to enter her apartment but Tess blocked the way. ‘You’ll pass on my details to Hayley, right? We aren’t from Bangor; if you don’t want us hanging around here it’ll be in your favor to call Hayley soon.’
‘Yeah, right, OK. Will do.’ Maddie understood the concession Tess had offered her. ‘I’ll try to get in touch with her as soon as my dad’s patched up.’
‘Great.’ Tess smiled. The Toners scuttled back inside and the door closed resolutely in her face. Father and daughter whispered conspiratorially as they headed deeper into the apartment.
Tess turned to appraise Po. ‘What is it with today and people flying off the handle as soon as I show my face?’
‘Beats me, Tess, yours is a nice face to me.’
‘Must be you who’s the problem then,’ she said with the ghost of a smile, and he grunted in laughter.
She went downstairs ahead of him.
Pinky, despite announcing he’d return to the car was where she expected him, sheltering in the entrance lobby. ‘Nobody needed knocking out this time, then?’
‘Dude up there came close to being punched,’ said Po, ‘but somebody already beat us to it. Whaddaya think, Tess: we just stumbled across somethin’ we shouldn’t’ve? There was somethin’ inside that apartment they didn’t want us to see and it wasn’t Hayley Cameron.’
‘We sure weren’t invited in for milk and cookies.’
‘So I guess we’re on stakeout, huh?’
THIRTEEN
He stood in the bathroom long enough that the motion-activated lights went out. He stood a while longer, breathing slowly, until his vision adapted to the dimness. It wasn’t completely dark: a glow etched the door in its frame, and traveled far enough inside the small room to paint the left side of his features in a sickly yellow hue. In the mirror above the washbasin he stared at his reflection and did not recognize it as his own. He chose to think that it was the poisoned man beyond the glass who carried out the sickening demands of his employers, and that he was the innocent reflection of those deeds.
He blinked, realizing it was wishful thinking, and with that he rocked on his heels.
It was enough movement to trip the lights and they flickered on, causing the man in the mirror to strobe also. The flare of stark white light was painful, and he squinted, muttering in discomfort. The mirror-man was gone and only Arlen Sampson remained. He leaned forward, resting his knuckles on the counter surrounding the washbasin. ‘Are you proud of yourself?’ he challenged his reflection. In response, he formed a globule of saliva under his tongue then allowed it to dribble into the sink: his gaze never left the eyes reflected in the mirror.
The door banged open, and he turned his head to regard Dominick Burgess. His bearded companion peered at him, wondering what the hell he was doing bent over the washbasin. The string of drool still hung from his lips.
‘You OK, Arlen?’
Sampson straightened up, using the back of his hand to dash the saliva off his chin. ‘Totally.’
‘Thought you were sick for a minute.’
‘Dom, I’m sick all of the fucking time. Aren’t you?’
Dom shrugged at Sampson’s rhetoric. His allegiance hadn’t been bought the way that Sampson’s had. Plus, their work didn’t trouble him the way it did Sampson: Dom was a different kind of man, and he was being paid for doing something he was good at. What had he to complain about?
‘I’m OK,’ Sampson reiterated. ‘I’m not physically being sick if that’s what you mean? You can leave me be now.’
Dom shook his head. ‘She wants you.’
Exhaling noisily, Sampson threw up both hands. ‘I need a minute. Tell her I’m coming, will you?’
‘She wants you now, man. You’d best get a move on.’
‘In a minute.’
Without waiting for an answer, he reached and twisted on the faucet. Hot water gushed. He scrubbed at the string of saliva on the back of his hand, then cupped and splashed water over his face. Behind him, Dom left the room and the door swung shut. Sampson yanked paper towels from a dispenser and rubbed his face vigorously. The towel disintegrated in patches, forming rolls of compacted paper that scraped painfully: it was penance and he didn’t let up until his skin smarted. He tossed the wad in the trash. Turned towards the door. Washing and drying had taken more than a couple of minutes, twice the time he’d told Dominick he needed, and it gave him a moment’s smug satisfaction. Fuck her if she thought he would jump when she said frog!
His small act of rebellion was as far as he was prepared to go for now. He exited
the bathroom and found Dom returning to fetch him a second time. ‘Relax, Dom, I’m coming.’
‘Good, she’s about to crap a lemon cause you’ve made her wait.’
‘You’re right, it is good.’
They passed the room where Mike Toner had suffered. Temperance Jolie was inside, and not too impressed. She wore latex gloves and had cloths and a bucket of soapy water. The task of cleaning up Toner’s piss and blood had been handed down the chain to her. A thin layer of perspiration glistened on her forehead – more to do with subdued outrage than through effort, Sampson thought. He offered a conciliatory wink. She returned the sentiment with a raised middle finger and a mouthed curse. She was such a sweet mannered girl.
Actually, to him, she was quite the opposite. Her first name was synonymous with an act of virtue, meaning moderation of action, thought or emotion, and most often given as ‘restraint.’ From what he’d experienced, Temperance struggled with all the meanings of her name, and restraint was never in her mind unless it had to do with physically obstructing a person’s freedom. She was subordinate to Sampson and Dom, and as the latter did, sometimes enjoyed her work; the task of driving her van when required was never cause for complaint. But she hated the menial tasks she was forced to complete, and often raised the racist or sexist card when her Caucasian male superiors sidestepped the dirtier graft. She despised white men – some may argue with good reason – and Sampson hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d warned Toner she’d slit his throat if he angered her.
Sampson still preferred Temperance to Dominick. His thuggish second was a grade-one asshole. Dominick had once been a cop in some shit-heel backwater Alabama town before losing his job over a scandal involving alleged ‘police brutality.’ He was a white supremacist with a badge back then, and he still swaggered around with his superiority complex intact even though he was no more than a servant. Dom was a bully, a sadist, and claimed he got off on the fact he was being paid to inflict terror, but he was also a liar. Sampson knew there was a hold over Dom as there was over Temperance and him. They were all servile attack dogs on leashes jerked by Kelly Ambrose, who was almost certainly a vassal to her husband Blake.
