“It’s done,” said Harry firmly,
“Mm...What’s done?” replied Eli; he savoured the first sip, acting oblivious to what Harry was trying to tell him.
“I said...It’s done,” said Harry once again, this time pressing the golden cross he held in the palm of his hand down on the bar as his proof. Eli picked up the cross and held it up, it dangled from his left hand swinging side to side. He took one more sip before handing it back,
“What does this prove?” said Eli sparingly towards Harry.
“He was wearing this when I did the job, he begged for me not to take it from him right before I finished it,” Harry told Eli softly. There were few people in the bar as it was a Wednesday evening, so Harry had no problem talking about it there and then. Eli picked up the cross one more time and held it up closer to his face taking a good long look,
“Well well, I didn’t think you had it in you,” said Eli. He patted Harry hard on the back in a condescending manor and polished off the remnants of booze from his whiskey glass. He placed two twenty dollar bills down on the bar and headed for the exit, Harry meanwhile bundled the cross charm back inside his pocket.
“I’ll be round your office tomorrow for the files you promised me,” shouted Harry, Eli didn’t look back to acknowledge him, he just continued for the entrance door that a staff member was all too keen to hold open for him as he left the bar.
* * *
The following morning felt like a new day for Harry O’Neill, the sun was shining and a sense and feeling of release now accompanied him on his journey through downtown Washington D.C. He knew today he would no longer be at the behest of corruption. As he travelled down 10th Street in his car ready to turn towards the John A. Wilson council building on Pennsylvania Avenue where Eli worked, the still living and breathing Wayne Peterson was already parked along the Avenue. He had decided not to leave town, but instead to stay and finish what he started, or what Eli started to be precise all those years ago.
“I see, who do we have here,” Wayne uttered to himself alone in his car, he had noticed the detective O’Neill arriving at the offices. He put down the binoculars to make a quick note of the time on a writing pad he kept in the glove compartment. Meanwhile, on the ground floor of the building, Harry was waiting for the elevator to arrive. He was even walking with a certain spring in his step, which was very unusual for the typically downcast civil servant with a lot on his mind.
“Go ahead detective, he’s right inside,” Walker’s receptionist told Harry, he approached the corner office on the third floor casually whistling a tune. He entered to find Eli already sitting in his chair, there was no greeting. Harry sat down in one of the comfortable chairs that are provided for visitors during meetings.
“I’ve been thinking,” said Eli,
“Uh oh, that’s never a good thing,” Harry replied jokingly as he attempted to lighten the harsh mood the man opposite him was creating, “I believe we have a transaction to complete?”
“Yes, about that...You did a good thing for me, a real solid favour. For that I thank you...” was all Eli said to O’Neill, Harry understandably looked confused.
“...And the files?” he then asked him,
“I think I’ll hold onto them Harry. I never know when I might need you again, you may go now...” Eli told him. Ending any hope of Harry becoming a free man. It was his own fault really, he made the deal with the devil nearly twenty years ago by giving him the information in the files.
“You gave me your word, the ‘great Eli Walker’ was meant to be a man of his word,” Harry ranted sarcastically as he raised his voice,
“...I lied,” he replied, putting a finish to their conversation. Harry’s face was the illustration of despondent. His sadness quickly turned to rage as he stood up seething with anger,
“Well I lied about something to...” Harry said,
“Oh shit!” said Wayne from his car across the street as he was listening in,
“...Peterson’s alive and he’s coming for you and your daughter...he told me,” Harry added as he headed towards the door.
“That son of a bitch! He’s lying... I’ll kill him!” shouted Wayne as he pounded his fist furiously on the inside door of his car. Meanwhile upstairs, Harry was just about to turn the handle on the door to leave Eli’s office when he said softly from behind his desk,
“I’m not the one who killed that poor girl O’Neill...”
Harry stood there frozen in the doorway as both he, and Wayne out in the car fell silent. While Harry walked away down the hallway to never be free of Eli’s grasp on his life, Wayne sat forward in the front seat of his car,
“Oh shit,” he said once again, this time a lot softer. This was more than about just him clearing his name and seeking revenge on the man now. He had Eli Walker on tape admitting the knowledge of a murder by a high ranking inner city detective that was covered up. This was going to become far too big for Wayne to handle. He couldn’t rely on Jeremy he was too erratic and unprofessional. The ex-con needed someone with some pull who also wanted the same thing as he did, which was to find out what the hell was going on between Harry O’Neill and Eli Walker. Although sadly for Wayne Peterson, he had no idea if this person existed, or how to find and contact them. Or if they could even be trusted with this information in the first place, all he did know was that he had uncovered something truly damming, he needed help from someone.
Part Seven
Chapter I
It was seven days since Wayne Peterson had overheard a conversation that he shouldn’t have. Seven days since Eli Walker had crossed on his deal, while also seven days since Harry O’Neill was confronted with a grim secret from his past he had kept quiet for so many years since. It was a harsh late April afternoon for all of those out and about that day in the city. Ryan was leaving the police station having just attended a rendezvous with Commissioner Ellis about possibly coming back to work. Sadly for Ryan however, although he showed a willingness to improve his attitude and had kicked his drinking habit considerably well in the previous months, albeit with a few secretive minor slipups. Ellis did not see things the same way; he wasn’t too fond of Ryan and never had been. Ryan also noticed that it brought him a little too much joy to be able to deny his request to return to the force and take on new cases.
The moisture in the air was dense, and the overcast city layered the visible skyline between the high rise buildings in an inescapable shroud of greyscale and dimness. You wouldn’t have known that the season of summer and warmth was just around the corner instead of winter. The detective walked towards his car that late afternoon, the air he emitted kept a steady pace behind him as the breathable air looked more like cigarette smoke lingering redundantly in the cold as he exhaled out. When he climbed into the driver’s seat of his recently restored car, he sensed something was amiss.
“Don’t panic,” a voice carefully whispered to him from the rear of the vehicle parked across the street from the police station. Ryan hadn’t even had the chance to buckle his seatbelt before the man hiding in the back of his car had made his presence known to him.
“What do you want? The car isn’t worth much but just take it, no one has to get hurt here,” Ryan replied in calmest way he knew how. He then slowly turned his gaze around the headrest to see the man sit up from a lying position and lean back in the middle seat. It was dark, and the mixture of shadows and an apparent lack of street light at that time of the day made it impossible for the man to be fully recognised, even though he was just two feet away.
“It’s not the car I want detective. Although...It is rather nice I must admit. No, what I want is you, you’re going to help me,” the voice replied,
“And why would I help a strange man who breaks into my car while I’m in a meeting?”
“Let’s just say we may have similar interests,” said the man as he leaned forward revealing himself.
“Wayne Peterson?” Ryan asked, it admittedly took him longer to recognize Wayne having never really had
any contact with the man, other than a recent police line up in the previous nineteen years. He had also noticed that Wayne’s hands were empty on his lap, he had no weapon. Still, Ryan took no chances and quickly reached for his sidearm and aimed it at him through the gap between the front seats. This way he kept it hidden from view so as not to alert any passersby of the situation.
“You’re not the first detective to point a gun at me and I doubt you’ll be the last,” Wayne chuckled, raising his hands slowly above his head and keeping them pressed against the roof of the car.
“OK smartass, talk...” Ryan demanded, he was growing impatient with his newly unwanted passenger. Peterson began to slowly move his left hand off of the roof and down towards the left hand pocket of his torn brown jacket he had decided to wear. The buttons wouldn’t fasten and the shoulders made it feel tight, he hadn’t worn it in quite some time which was made evident as the leather squeaked profusely underneath the arms, the strain on the stitches was tenacious. Wayne finally grabbed a small portable recording device and reached for the play button. It began to play the entire conversation between Harry and Eli where it was made evident a murder had taken place and then been covered up to protect political interests. The identity of the victim and when it happened however were still a mystery and were not indentified on the tape. Making it harder for Wayne to narrow down just who they were discussing as Harry was leaving Eli’s office that day. After the tape had finished, Ryan stared quietly, he didn’t want to believe what he had just heard was real, but it was both of their voices. Ryan realised then and there that it could only have been one person that they were talking about, one case Harry was associated with at the time when Wayne Peterson was framed. It had to and could only be ‘Jane,’ the case that set this whole chain of events in motion. Ryan also didn’t want to believe that Harry could be so easily bought into committing a murder by paying a few gambling debts, a murder that would help a corrupt man move forward politically whilst sending an innocent man at that time to jail. It was hard for Ryan to bear as the thought of his closest friend after all these years had looked him in the eye day after day and had this murderous past.
“How did you get this?” Ryan asked, his voice started to break, and the hand holding his gun began to shake under the weight of the news which had just been thrust in his face by a potentially erroneous source.
“I hid a tiny listening device inside the councilman’s office,”
“OK that’s illegal...What else?” Ryan wanted to know,
“Well, other than that it’s your boy on that tape. Your ex-partner, who just so happens helped frame me nearly twenty years ago,” Wayne replied. Ryan wasn’t shocked he had already known about that fact for quite some time.
“I already knew about that little fact I’m afraid to say Wayne,” Ryan said, he swiftly tried to grab the device from Wayne’s left hand. However, Wayne was fast enough to just avoid having it snatched from his grasp as he moved his left arm further out of reach of the detective.
“Oh my god, you already knew he set me up! Jesus Christ is anybody in this city not out to get me?! They’re saying here that I am making threats against his kid, if anything happens to that girl because I’m being set up then all the heat will land right on my front porch,” he shouted to himself in the back of the car venting his frustration to anyone who will listen, which at that moment, was no one at all.
“Just hand it over,” said Ryan, he was bluffing and had no intention of pumping a round deep into Peterson’s chest but he was not to know that.
“You may as well drive somewhere more discreet, we have a lot more to discuss” said Peterson, much to the annoyance of the detective holding the gun.
“Oh we do? Like what?” Ryan replied,
“Like me being your new partner to help you take these guys down. I know you want it as badly as I do, especially after hearing what was on the tape detective,” said Wayne as he smiled. Ryan however, was sceptical about the idea of being associated with an ex racial criminal who had spent most of his life in a cage and had obtained illegal evidence about high ranking police and council officials. He let out a rather large sigh, possibly of regret for what he was about to do. Ryan turned slowly and put his gun away before turning the key that was already in the ignition. Something he hadn’t had the chance to try and do since he first stepped foot inside the car. Ryan had spent many years working alone, he hadn’t had a partner since the “Jane” case in nineteen ninety-five and he preferred it that way. Once alone and always alone was how he liked to get his work done now, especially if he was going to confront his closest friend about what was on the tape. He was mainly worried however that an idiotic and dilettante Wayne Peterson would land him in a nice cosy cell in the same prison. He was out for one thing and that was vengeance, Ryan knew how to play things cool, but Wayne was the exact opposite. All he needed however was that recording of Harry and Eli’s conversation to use as a blackmailing tool for more information on the two. If he had to step over Wayne to get it he would do so gladly and have no lasting regrets.
That night as Ryan arrived home he was greeted with the all too unfamiliar sight of his daughter hovering around the kitchen as she attempted to make dinner. The smell in the room as soon as he entered left a lasting aroma of burnt food in the back of his nostrils and airway.
“God only knows what this will taste like,” he muttered to himself. He closed his front door and prepared to brace himself for dinner. He placed the paper note with Wayne Peterson’s newly acquired and frankly unwanted contact number on down on his end table where he kept the door keys. Ryan walked into the kitchen and was greeted by April,
“Oh hi Dad, I didn’t expect you back yet. I wanted this to be a surprise,” she said stirring the contents of the overheating sauce in the pan and seemingly caring not as it sloshed over the sides and coated the once clean cooker. “How did your meeting go?”
“Not well,” Ryan replied,
“That’s rubbish, what did he say?” she asked him,
“We agreed I had made much progress but just wasn’t quite ready yet,” replied Ryan as he distorted the truth somewhat about his meeting. His daughter needn’t had concerned herself with his work problems or the telling truth that his career may have drawn its last breath earlier that afternoon. Instead he chose to parry her questions, perhaps to protect his own personal pride and ego more than anything. Besides, Ryan still knew he had at least one last case to solve, whether it was sanctioned by the powers that be or not. That was to get to the truth about Harry.
Chapter II
The next morning, Ryan rose from his bed, his stomach groaned after the meal that was eaten roughly nine hours earlier. He didn’t want to upset April who had tried to do something nice for him, so he was forced to shovel nearly every last forkful down his throat and fain satisfaction. Ryan exited the bedroom and crossed the hallway to his adjacent bathroom, as he did he could hear the sound of the TV downstairs and the slight pause between the noise as the channel was being changed. He examined his watch, only to realise that this was the time when April would be at school. Ryan thought maybe last night’s dinner had made her feel unwell too and she was staying home that day; however when he reached the bottom of the stairs, he found Harry sat watching his television. Ryan didn’t make a peep, he quickly thought about what to do. Harry had no idea that Ryan was onto him, or that he was investigating him in his spare time, he needed to play it cool otherwise Harry would suspect something.
“Morning,” said Ryan,
“Finally you’re up, was worried you would never join the land of the living,” chuckled Harry, he turned off his Ryan’s television and stood up.
“Is there something you need?” Ryan asked,
“I have to need something to drop by and see my old partner?” responded Harry as he gave Ryan a rather unexpected hug. There was an awkward gap of silence between the two,
“What was that?” asked Ryan confusingly, taking a step back.
�
��Nothing, can’t a guy be thankful to have a best friend during a rough patch?” Harry said, once again replying to a question with another question much to Ryan’s annoyance. Harry was acting strange, he was usually more of a strong and silent type much like Ryan. Something had got Harry acting strange and Ryan bet he knew what, a major part of him wanted to confront him, but now just wasn’t the time to play all his cards.
“C’mon, let’s go for a drive,” said Harry, he patted Ryan on the shoulder and walked towards the door. As much as Ryan would have liked to spend the day with a man he suspected was a liar and a killer, he was unfortunately still in his robe. Harry saw this as he was leaving,
“OK then, I’ll just meet you at Mickey’s then,” said Harry,
“It’s nine-fifteen in the morning...” said Ryan, as he examined his watch one more time wondering if he was actually being serious.
“...They do breakfast...I think,” Harry replied, Ryan nodded, “Excellent I’ll meet you in thirty minutes,” he added.
When Harry opened the door to leave he glanced down ever so quickly. Ryan noticed his eye was being drawn to the small slip of paper with the telephone number on. Harry’s chipper mood suddenly vanished as he picked up the piece of paper with Peterson’s phone number on and took a step back inside Ryan’s house, slamming the door with his free hand behind him. Ryan took a step back, Harry slowly moved towards him with a menacing look on his face.
“Why do you have this number? Do you know whose number this is?” Harry demanded to know from his former friend and colleague. Ryan by this time had enough, had enough of keeping secrets, enough of hiding what he knew, he chose to confront Harry with everything.
“I think we both know exactly what’s going on here, don’t you?
“Why don’t you tell me friend?” Harry asked,
“You were hired by Eli Walker to kill him, in exchange for the evidence he had that you murdered that poor girl nearly twenty years ago!” shouted Ryan. Harry turned white as a ghost. Just then, Harry took a wild swing at Ryan catching him squarely on the side of his jaw and cheek, knocking him straight to the floor holding his face. It wasn’t the first time these two had come to blows in that very same house, but this time it was different. Harry held nothing back in that one punch, he then stepped over his old partner who was still lying hurt on the floor, and proceeded to grab him by the collar of his robe.
The Sins of a District Page 15
