The Devil's Copper

by Jamie Crothall

  With no other idea in mind I decided to head over to his day job’s office to see if there was anything of any note there. It was Sunday so it would likely be quiet, it had very minimal security, and I had been there with him in the past so I wouldn’t appear too suspicious if I showed up in his office. I drove to the other end of town and parked in the small lot outside the building. There were a few people milling about and conversing, so I waited for them to finish before I attempted to enter.

  My cover story to Walter was not a lie; I was excessively tired, having not slept at all that evening. While waiting for the two weekend workers to finish their conversation, I ended up falling asleep in my car.

  FOUR

  I was startled awake by my pager. I quickly scrambled to turn it off. I looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was just after four o’clock. Fortunately, I hadn’t slept too long. I scanned the area to see if anyone was around, but also to remind myself where I was. There’s always that little bit of sweet, blissful ignorance when you wake up, during which you could hope everything bad that happened was just a dream. No such luck this time. On the up-side, there was no one else lingering around the parking lot.

  Wait; I was wrong. There was one more figure to emerge.

  Walter’s signature trench coat appeared around the corner as he casually strode towards the door. I assumed he had the same vague semblance of a plan that I did: to investigate Jack’s office for any further evidence. What he did not seem to be prepared for was the combination key lock on the side entrance. I waited and watched as he walked up to the door, looked at the keypad, then began to enter random numbers. He got it right on his first attempt. This caused me to lean forward and grip the steering wheel. Was this on chance coincidence, like the Nevada ticket? First the computer password, and now this? Either Jack told him this information or he got it somewhere else.

  Walter went inside. I got out of the car and followed, not far behind. I hoped the beeping of the combination lock when I entered the passcode was not too loud to alert him of me following. I went up the two flights of stairs, and down the short length of hallways towards Jack’s office.

  “Just more entries regarding ‘T’,” Walter said.

  He said it moments before I entered the room. Moments before he even saw me.

  “What?” I asked.

  He looked up from the computer, having already sat down at Jack’s desk. The lights were off, but the monitor basked his face in dim, blue light. “It was on, but locked. More entries regarding meetings with ‘T’, but no context whatsoever.”

  “How did you know?”

  He pointed at the computer. “It says so right here.”

  “How did you know about ‘T’?” I asked warily.

  “It…says so right here.”

  “You said ‘more’ entries about ‘T’.”

  “Yeah, like in the day planner.”

  I was getting frustrated, not to mention worried. “I never told you about the day planner!”

  “Are you sure? I’m not sure how else I’d know that.”

  “I’m going to call security,” my mouth said. I mean, it was probably a good plan, but it would have been nice if my brain had been consulted.

  “What? Why?” he asked, bewildered.

  “Why do you think? You know too much,” I spat. My hands were shaking at this point. “You know things I never told you. You know his password. You know his building access code. You know how many people took him…”

  “Okay, keep your voice down princess…” he insisted.

  He made calming gestures and attempted to look amused. But there was clearly a hint of concern in his eyes. Then he rolled his eyes.

  “Oh shit,” he muttered.

  A figure darkened the doorway. I knew him immediately, and felt a twinge of relief. It was Barry, a security guard Jack was friendly with. He was generally receptive to my presence.

  “Can you identify yourselves please?” the security guard asked.

  Oops. Maybe he didn’t know me as well as I thought.

  Before I could stammer a response, Walter did.

  “Barry! How’s it going, man?”

  “I’m sorry, do I…”

  “How’s Sarah doing?”

  “Sarah? She’s…fine…doing fine…”

  “You’ve been married, what, five years now?”

  The security guard was clearly caught in a social nicety trap. “Six, actually.”

  “Oh man, six? Feels like only a year ago, doesn’t it? And the little one, Andrea?”

  I could see by the look on Barry’s face that his brain was trying to wedge Walter’s face somewhere in his memory and convince himself he did recognize Walter after all. “Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “She’s, uh..well after the scare I mean…it’s all…”

  Walter shook his head. “I knew you two would get through that. You’re both too strong to let something like that get you down. I always told people that.”

  “Well thanks man, I appreciate that. But hey, is everything okay in here?” he asked, gesturing to us both. “I thought I heard some raised voices. I mean, this is private property and…”

  “Oh, we’re just here for Jack. He asked us to fetch a few things. You remember Billie, right?”

  Barry looked at me, with scrutiny on his face. It took a few seconds before he showed some glimmer of recognition. “Oh right, yeah! You’re Jack’s, uh…yeah, no I remember you. Look, just keep it down and make it quick, alright? I mean, really, it’s just meant to be Jack in here after hours.”

  “No worries man,” Walter said, pointing finger guns at him. “We’ll be out of here in no time.”

  “Alright, cool, thanks.”

  “Say hi to Antony for me!” he called out as Barry left the room.

  “You know him?” I asked.

  Walter shook his head. “Nah, lucky guess. Anyway, where were we?”

  Nothing surprised me at this point. That’s not to say I wasn’t still concerned about Jack’s safety. And my own. I marched toward Walter, who rose out of his seat and backed away as though he feared his own personal safety. I began looking through the drawers. I didn’t find anything out of place – pens, papers, business cards, the birthday card I sent him at work (aww, he kept it), but nothing too telling. Until I opened the bottom right drawer. That’s always where you hide the real juicy stuff, isn’t it? I stood up straight and stared back down at it. When Walter saw my reaction, he joined me by my side and stared down with the same stunned expression.

  “Why does Jack have a gun?” asked Walter.

  “I…don’t know…” I said.

  “Does he always have a gun?”

  “You tell me. You’ve known him longer.”

  Walter shook his head. “I can’t say it’s ever come up.”

  I looked down at the gun, then assessed the size of my purse. Before my brain could rationalize it any further I reached down and picked it up.

  “What are you doing?”

  “If Jack felt he needed a gun, now I probably do too.”

  Walter raised his hands, somewhere between surrender and disavowal. He ran his fingers through his hair as he took a few steps away.

  It was a standard revolver. I couldn’t tell you much more than that. You put the bullets in the round thing instead of the handle. I had only held a prop gun before. I wasn’t expecting the real thing to be so heavy.

  “You ever fire a gun before?” he asked.

  “Once,” I said. Which wasn’t a lie. He didn’t specify a ‘real’ gun. “And I can do it again if I have to.”

  Walter gave a ‘calm down’ gesture but abandoned it halfway through when he saw me open the chamber and count the bullets. “How many?”

  “Three in the chamber.”

  “Which begs the question…”

  “Did he ever fire the other three?” I said, finally finishing one of his sentences. I put the gun in my purse, which now weighed heavily on my shoulder.

  “…one…two…we
should leave.”

  “What?”

  Walter peered around the corner out into the hall. “We have about six seconds to get the hell out of here. Come on, hurry up!”

  As much as I distrusted him, I felt compelled by his overall urgency. “Barry?” I asked as I scuffled towards the door.

  “No, not Barry,” he replied. He grabbed my arm and held me in place as he looked out into the hall again. “Okay, this way…no, this way,” he insisted, launching us both into the hallways and heading the opposite way we had originally arrived. For lack of any other action I matched his step and glanced over my shoulder whenever he did. I couldn't see anyone but I definitely heard other footsteps. Once we breached the door and fell into the daylight we both managed to take a deep breath.

  “Who were they?” I asked.

  “Not sure, but they weren’t standard security. I think they had guns.”

  “You think?” I asked. “Did you see them?”

  “Sort of. Look, let’s just get the hell away from here. You drove, right?”

  I pointed to the car, which was now sitting beside a dark SUV. Very clichéd. We both gave it a daunting look before scrambling into my car so I could get us the hell away.

  “Don’t drive home just yet,” he suggested. “They’re not following us, but let’s just…drive…anywhere…”

  ***

  It wasn’t until we were halfway to the other end of town that my heart rate settled. Even Walter seemed more composed. We hadn’t said a word between us since we fled.

  “So what’s your plan?” he asked.

  “My plan?” I countered with my own incredulity. “You’re relying on me to have a plan? What are your thoughts?”

  “Well,” he started, but then paused as he focused unnecessarily on the traffic ahead. “People are driving like idiots today,” he said. I had no idea what he was referring to. “Anyway, I figure we could look at every instance of his meetings with this ‘T’, chart the locations on a map, and see if it forms any kind of symbol. Like a pentagram or a penis or something.”

  “This isn’t a game, Walter!” I spat.

  “I am aware of that,” he replied flatly.

  I thought about going back to the police. I didn’t trust Watler as much as I wanted to. (And I scarcely wanted to.) I was in way over my head. This was the kind of thing you saw in movies. You weren’t supposed to deal with this in real life.

  “It’s a bad idea,” Walter said, unprompted.

  “What is?”

  “Going back to the police.”

  It was as though the breath had been drawn out of me. How did he even know I was thinking that? I hadn’t said a thing. My mind went reeling through all the things he knew without me telling him, and came to an absurd, yet oddly rational conclusion. Did he have a way of reading my mind? My rational brain argued with my terrified brain until they both agreed to conduct a simple experiment to determine once and for all if the mere idea was worth contemplating any further.

  I thought a thought.

  I thought a thought so absurd, so outrageous, so unexpected, that if there was any way Walter could read it, there would be no way he could hide his reaction. I won’t say what it was, but it was something he’d regret reading. If he could.

  Walter made no reaction. He didn’t even flinch.

  I shook my head. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself.

  “What’s up?” Walter asked.

  “Nothing,” I muttered. “Just…everything. This is all so…”

  “Ridiculous?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I only ask you about a plan because I don’t have one yet,” he said.

  Was that his way of apologizing?

  “You and me both,” I conceded. “I was actually thinking of going to our church.”

  “Church?” he asked with a scoff. Any sense of tact he put up was quickly gone.

  “Yeah,” I replied indignantly. “Church. In case he went there at all. I’ve recently gotten back into it, thanks to Jack. I fell out of it for a while for…personal reasons. But when he saw I missed it, he helped me get back into it. He’s been very encouraging. He often comes with me, I’ll have you know.”

  “Jack was never religious,” he said. “He was humouring you. Religion is the alcohol for people who are bored with real life, or too blind to really drink it in.”

  “You know, just because you’ve known him longer doesn’t mean you know him better,” I said coldly. “Maybe the versions of him you think you know are just outdated.”

  “You say he often goes with you?”

  “Yes,” I replied indignantly.

  “Interesting.”

  Insert an awkward moment of silence, where we were both waiting for the other to continue. I ended up taking the bait.

  “Why?”

  “His meetings with ‘T’. There were a few that happened on a Sunday morning.”

  “What…what are you…”

  “Suggesting? Nothing.”

  Again with the silence, wherein neither of us liked where that suggestion was leading.

  “It is possible he got involved with some bad dealings,” Walter eventually offered, as though it were a more reassuring option by comparison. In a way, it was.

  “Cards?”

  Walter shook his head. “Nah, he said he was done with that. But working in finance, I mean…I’m sure there are ways to get involved in things one shouldn’t. The cocaine trade has to be a gold mine.”

  “Jack wouldn’t get involved with anything like that.”

  “Not intentionally. But he could have been drawn in against his will. People use financial trades and investments to mask illegal dealings and money laundering. Hell, he could have stumbled onto a human trafficking ring for all we know.”

  I couldn’t help but scoff at his words. “This is Sudbury.”

  Walter shook his head. “Still plenty of big fish to be eaten by. Besides,” he concluded as he looked over at me. “If you were going to start an illegal organization, wouldn’t you go to the arse-end of the world to make it less obvious?”

  Of course I wanted to find a number of things wrong with his logic, but it sounded feasible, which I didn’t want to consider. I opened my mouth to make a number of counter-arguments, but came up with nothing.

  “Watch out for the dog!”

  His warning came without warning. (As it often does.) I instinctively hit the brake without even seeing said animal in my path. Fortunately, there was no other vehicle behind me. Otherwise, I’m sure I’d have been rear-ended. It was a full five seconds before the dog came running out into the street.

  “Sorry,” he offered. “That was a bit premature.”

  I gave my heart a few moments to slow down before setting off again. There were a few more moments of silence before I changed the topic slightly from our previous game of wild conclusions.

  “How did you two meet?” I asked.

  He turned my way, then looked back out his window. “Has he never told you?”

  Jack hadn’t properly elaborated. But I didn’t want to tell Walter that. “I want to hear your version.”

  “I don’t know if it’s my story to tell.”

  “Back at the food court, you said we both had to trust each other. You had me pick a number, for whatever that’s worth. You still owe me something. I don’t trust you, Walter. You know too much and you’re telling me too little. If you want me to trust you, you’re going to have to give me a little something. Otherwise, for all I know, you’re part of the conspiracy.”

  “Oh, it’s a conspiracy now, is it?”

  “Well, this certainly isn’t normal. How do you know so much?”

  “I’m good at reading people. Plus, I just…know Jack. I know him well enough.”

  “But how? For all I know, you’re just some bum he took in off the streets.”

  “Well, you might be right…” he muttered as he looked out his window again.

  “Am I?”

  “About
the conspiracy part.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t overreact but…I think we’re being followed.”

  I glanced into my rearview mirror. A red pick-up truck followed behind us. In retrospect, it had probably been there since I braked for the dog. It didn’t match the vehicle parked beside us at the office, but that could have just been a clichéd assumption on our part.

  “Drive normal.”

  “How am I supposed to drive normal after being told to drive normal?”

  “Stop turning around,” he insisted. “They’ll know we know.”

  “Where do I go?”

  “Get onto Lorne. We’re going to where no right minded person should follow. The Donovan.”

  I did as he said and tried to keep a moderate speed. At one point, the red pick-up truck ended up about three cars behind us, the consequence of trying to hang back to remain inconspicuous, and eventually turned off down a side street. We both breathed a sigh of relief until we saw it emerge ahead of us at an intersection and purposely wait for us to pass by before pulling out onto the main drag. I couldn’t get a clear look, but there were at least three men in the cab.

  “Maybe we should..”

  “Not yet,” Walter insisted. Did he anticipate my suggestion to go to the police again, or was he answering some other expected suggestion? “Go right here,” he instructed. “Then left on Frood.”

  We wound our way up into some sketchy subdivisions but the truck held its position a good thirty feet behind us.

  “Up here,” he said, pointing to a turning ahead.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the mosque. That scares off most folk.”