Ashes Of America

by Fergus McNeill

  Just as he had played his.

  ‘So that’s why you’re here?’ she demanded. ‘To get revenge?’

  Frank sighed, picturing the smug way Ellis had nodded to him at Pete’s funeral.

  ‘A score like this has to be settled,’ he said softly. He opened his eyes, blinking up at the bright sky above the buildings, then wearily stepped back from the window and turned around.

  Faye was standing by the nightstand, pointing the gun at him.

  ‘Is that why you did it?’ she demanded. ‘Is that why you killed my brother?’

  Frank stared at her.

  ‘What?!’ he gasped.

  Faye moved cautiously round to the end of the bed, staring at him down the barrel of the gun.

  ‘To settle your score?’ she snarled. ‘You wanted to get rid of me so you thought you’d burn the building down. But you killed Stanley instead.’

  Frank slowly held a hand up.

  ‘Now wait just a minute,’ he said carefully. ‘I didn’t start that fire.’

  ‘No?’ She bared her teeth in rage. ‘You told me it wasn’t an accident; how did you know that?’

  Frank shook his head.

  ‘I… look, you’ve got this whole thing wrong,’ he said. ‘I didn’t start that fire, but I think maybe Ellis did.’

  Faye hesitated.

  ‘Ellis?’

  ‘Think about it,’ he urged her. ‘You’re a loose end; maybe he figured it was time to cut you off.’

  Faye swallowed, looking less certain for a moment, then raised the gun again.

  ‘He’s not the one who kidnapped me, who threatened to shoot me!’ she hissed.

  Frank bowed his head. He had been rough on her, too rough, as it turned out.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he sighed. ‘I just needed to know the truth but… well, I guess I was wrong about you.’

  ‘You guess?’ She managed a bitter little laugh.

  Frank shrugged.

  ‘I’m right about Ellis, though,’ he said. ‘And sooner or later he’s gonna catch up with you.’

  There was a hunted look in her eyes now, and he saw her glancing towards the door.

  ‘What’s the use of that?’ he challenged her. ‘Where could you go? Back to the church hall? It didn’t take me long to find you there, so it won’t be difficult for him.’

  Faye raised her chin.

  ‘I’ll go to the police,’ she said, defiantly.

  ‘I am the police,’ he told her. ‘Officer Frank Rye, remember?’

  Her face twisted in dismay.

  ‘Shut up!’ she cried, jabbing the gun at him. ‘Just shut up!’

  Very slowly, Frank stepped forward, reaching out and picking up the bourbon bottle from the dresser.

  ‘Stop!’ Faye warned him, despair rising in her voice. ‘Don’t come any closer!’

  ‘It’s okay,’ he told her gently. ‘I don’t blame you for being mad at me. But you know I’m right.’

  ‘Stay back!’ she insisted, the gun shaking in her hands.

  Frank looked into her eyes, then took another step forward.

  ‘Faye, please…’

  ‘I mean it!’ Stumbling backwards, she pointed the gun at the ceiling and pulled the trigger.

  There was a sharp click.

  Panicked, she stared at the gun, then aimed and pulled the trigger again.

  Click. Click. Click.

  Frank took a long swig of bourbon, then set the bottle down and held out his hand for the gun.

  ‘You’ve got heart,’ he told her. ‘But you haven’t got any bullets.’

  She gaped at him.

  ‘Clip’s empty,’ he explained, reaching out and gently taking the gun from her. ‘I didn’t come here to kill you.’

  Trembling, Faye put out a hand, leaning against the wall to steady herself.

  ‘I… I don’t understand this…’ she whispered.

  ‘I’m here for Ellis,’ he said, checking the gun and sliding it back into his holster. ‘The bastard killed Pete, and your brother Stanley, so I’m gonna blow his brains out.’

  He met her startled gaze, then turned and walked back over to the window.

  ‘And until I do, the safest place for you is with me.’ He glanced back at her. ‘Unless you have someone else you can go to?’

  Faye walked over to the bed and sat down heavily, bowing her head into her hands.

  ‘Stanley was the only friend I had left,’ she sniffed.

  Frank stared down at the street.

  ‘No,’ he said softly. ‘I’m the only friend you have left.’

  32

  The early evening traffic rumbled by as they turned the corner and walked slowly down the long line of restaurants on Central Street. Frank stared in through a few different windows, then stopped outside a grill joint called The Cook Out. Turning to Faye, he raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Well?’ he said. ‘What do you think?’

  She gave him a cold stare, then shrugged her shoulders.

  Frank sighed, then turned and pushed the door open.

  ‘After you,’ he told her.

  The place was small and dimly lit, but a delicious smoky aroma of cooking hung in the air. They took a booth in the corner near the back and sat on opposite sides of the table. A waitress with long black hair came over and offered each of them a menu.

  ‘Our specials today are the smoked chicken and the blackened salmon.’ Straightening up, she flashed a brief smile. ‘I’ll be right back with some water.’

  Pivoting on her heels, she clicked away across the wooden floor. Frank followed her with his eyes, then turned to find Faye watching him. Frowning, he picked up his menu and studied it for a moment. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast and the smell of barbecue always stirred his appetite.

  Glancing up, he noticed that Faye was sitting with her hands folded on the red and white table cloth, one thumb stroking the other in a soothing motion. Her menu lay untouched on the table.

  ‘Not hungry?’ he asked.

  She stared past him for a moment, as though not wanting to acknowledge him, then lowered her eyes.

  ‘I don’t have enough money,’ she said.

  Frank looked at her awkwardly. Of course she didn’t. The poor kid had been on the run for days, and everything she owned would have been lost in the fire.

  He frowned and fumbled in his pants pocket, drawing out his wallet and thumbing through the worryingly thin fold of bills that remained.

  ‘Eat,’ he said gruffly. ‘It’s on me, okay?’

  Her gaze met his for a second, then she reached for the menu and lifted it, so he couldn’t see her face.

  The waitress brought their food out and set the plates down carefully on the table.

  ‘One chicken platter…’ She turned to Frank. ‘…and a rack of ribs. Enjoy.’

  She moved away.

  Across the table from him, Faye had already seized her knife and fork and was attacking her food hungrily.

  Frank watched her for a moment, then picked up his own cutlery.

  ‘Is it all right?’ he asked her.

  She looked up at him, her face unreadable, then gave a slight nod.

  Frank stared down at his plate.

  ‘Good,’ he said.

  They ate in silence for a time. After a while, Frank paused and glanced across at her.

  ‘So,’ he said. ‘Have you lived in Kansas City long?’

  Faye lifted her head, then slowly put her knife and fork down.

  ‘Moved here when I was fifteen,’ she said quietly. ‘We were in Jefferson City before that.’

  ‘You got any family here?’

  He spoke casually, with an encouraging tone, but he knew he had to figure out how he was going to keep her safe. Whatever she’d done, she wasn’t a willing accomplice to the thin man… and she was still his best chance of finding the bastard. Either way, he didn’t want anything to happen to her.

  Faye’s expression darkened and she stared down at her plate.

  ‘Mom
and dad passed away, year before last. Stanley…’ She faltered, then cleared her throat and continued. ‘He was the only family I had.’

  Shit. Feeling stupid, Frank looked away.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

  Faye took a breath, then picked up her fork and continued eating.

  For a time, neither one of them spoke. Eventually, Frank sat back in his seat and tried again.

  ‘So what took you down to Neosho?’

  Faye hesitated, then looked up.

  ‘I just… felt like a change.’ She paused for a long moment, then added, ‘I heard there was a job going down there.’

  Frank noted the unease in her voice.

  ‘Didn’t you have a job here?’ he asked.

  Faye lowered her eyes and nodded. Setting her cutlery down, she picked up a napkin and dabbed at her mouth.

  Frank frowned. Had she been running away from something? Or someone?

  ‘Who did you work for when you were here?’ he asked.

  Faye slowly folded the napkin, then raised her eyes to meet his.

  ‘Can we talk about something else?’ Her voice seemed calm, but there was something in her expression, something that warned him not to press her.

  ‘Sure, I guess.’ He gave a shrug, as though it was nothing to him. ‘What would you like to talk about?’

  She sat back, studying him for a moment.

  ‘You said you’re a cop…’

  It was more of a challenge than a question.

  ‘That’s right,’ Frank replied. ‘Joplin PD. Joined up after the war.’

  ‘You don’t act like a cop,’ she said.

  He managed a brief, rueful smile.

  ‘Maybe I’m not a very good one.’

  Faye crumpled the napkin in her hand and placed it at the side of her plate. He could see the suspicion in her eyes.

  ‘What’s a Joplin cop doing all the way up here?’ she asked. ‘Are you here about a case? About that other cop…?’

  Frank sighed, then nodded.

  ‘About Pete Barnes, yeah.’

  Faye appeared to consider this.

  ‘Was he a friend of yours?’

  Frank shifted in his seat, then rubbed his eyes, wearily.

  No. He really hadn’t been much of a friend to Pete Barnes.

  ‘Can we talk about something else?’ he sighed.

  He caught a tiny glimmer of interest in her eye before the waitress appeared, clearing away their plates and sparing him further questions.

  It was dark when they stepped out onto the sidewalk. Frank put on his hat and took out his cigarettes, then held out the pack to Faye. She hesitated, then took one, and waited while he lit it for her.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said.

  ‘Forget it,’ he told her. ‘Come on, let’s walk.’

  They made their way back up Central Street, moving slowly, both of them wrapped in their own thoughts.

  ‘Did Ellis ever talk about me?’ Frank asked suddenly. ‘Did he mention anything, other than what he wanted you to do?’

  Faye slowed, shaking her head.

  ‘No, nothing,’ she replied. ‘That day was the only time I ever saw him.’

  Frank scowled.

  ‘Then I don’t get it,’ he muttered.

  ‘Don’t get what?’

  Frank stopped and turned to face her.

  ‘I don’t get why he was after me,’ he sighed. ‘I mean, I’m sure I don’t know the guy.’

  Faye’s brow crinkled into a frown.

  ‘Maybe you didn’t,’ she said, simply.

  Frank shot her a questioning look.

  ‘Think about it,’ Faye told him. ‘Ellis didn’t know you either, did he?’

  Frank stared at her, then began to nod.

  ‘Or he wouldn’t have killed the wrong man,’ he said. ‘Yeah, you’re right.’

  He took a drag on his cigarette, turning this over in his mind. Ellis didn’t know who he was, so it wasn’t anything personal… but someone had sent the bastard down to find him.

  He glanced at Faye. Didn’t she say that her first contact with Ellis had come via her old boss? That she’d been in trouble with some “bad people”?

  Faye caught his look, and her expression became wary.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  He took a step towards her.

  ‘Faye, I need to know who used to work for.’

  For just a second, fear flickered in her eyes, but she took a long draw on the cigarette and said nothing. He stared at her, reaching out to take her arm, but let go when she flinched from his touch.

  ‘I’m sorry, I just…’ He held his hands up, taking a step away from her to give her space. ‘I just want to understand who Ellis is, who he works for.’

  Faye turned away, taking another drag on the cigarette before looking back over her shoulder at him.

  ‘Bad people?’ Frank prompted her. ‘We’re talking about the Mob, right?’

  Faye stared at him for a moment, then lowered her eyes and managed a slight nod.

  The Mob.

  Frank took a breath as the implications started to sink in.

  ‘And that’s who you worked for too, right?’ he continued. ‘That’s who you owed…’

  Faye hesitated, then nodded again.

  Frank took a final hit on his cigarette, then dropped the butt and ground it out under his shoe.

  The Mob.

  It certainly explained why she’d gone along with Ellis’ instructions, but the rest of the pieces still didn’t fit. Why him? He was just a small-time cop, screwing up his life in a small-time way.

  Why the hell would the Kansas City Mob be interested in him?

  Shaking his head, he glanced across at Faye.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, starting along the sidewalk.

  Faye took a nervous step forward.

  ‘So… we’re going back to the hotel now?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah.’

  He frowned, head down as he walked, trying to think.

  Did the Mob have interests as far south as Joplin? Had he busted someone “connected” without even knowing it?

  Behind him, Faye had slowed her pace. He turned to look back at her, saw the doubt in her eyes.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he demanded.

  She hung back and gave a slight shake of her head.

  ‘Faye?’

  He turned, trying to read her, then suddenly remembered the way she’d looked before, as she reluctantly unbuttoned her dress. Bowing his head, he rubbed his eyes again.

  ‘Listen, you can come with me or not, it’s up to you, but I really think you’ll be safest if you stay with me.’ He straightened up and gave her a long, steady look. ‘And you can have the bed, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

  Faye met his gaze.

  ‘What about you?’ she asked. ‘What will you do?’

  Frank shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Well, I guess I get to sleep in the chair,’ he replied.

  A strange light came into Faye’s eyes and she bit her lip.

  Frank sighed and held his hands out wide.

  ‘What is it?’ he said wearily.

  Faye gave him a thoughtful look.

  ‘You really don’t act like a cop,’ she said.

  33

  They were still a block away when he spotted the police cars skewed across the road, the shadowy figures beginning to form a crowd. The steady rhythm of his footsteps faltered and he slowed.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Faye caught something in his expression and turned to see what he was looking at. ‘Is that the hotel?’

  Frank hesitated, then nodded.

  There were three black-and-whites that he could see, and an ambulance. Spotting it, he relaxed a little. Whatever the police were here for, it had already happened.

  He lifted his chin, straightening up.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he told her. ‘I’m a cop too, remember? We’ll be okay.’

  Putting a hand gently on the back of
her shoulder, he gave her a reassuring smile and they started walking again.

  It was strange, feeling uneasy at the sight of the police cars. When had that happened to him? Was this how ordinary people felt?

  He glanced at Faye, sensing the tension in her shoulder, seeing the tightness in her jaw, wondering what she meant when she said he didn’t act like a cop.

  What kind of cops had she known?

  He could see a couple of uniforms now, patiently turning people back, trying to maintain a perimeter. Absently, he patted his pocket, then made his way towards one of them, leading Faye between the onlookers.

  ‘Evening,’ he said before he was challenged.

  The officer, a stocky man in his early thirties, raised a hand to stop them.

  ‘Sorry folks, I can't let you through here just now.’ He gestured back up the street, the way they’d come. ‘You'll have to go around.’

  ‘Oh.’ Frank feigned concern, looking at Faye, then pointing towards the hotel entrance. ‘But we're staying right there. At the Bradbury.’

  The cop planted his feet a little wider apart.

  ‘I’m still gonna have to ask you to wait, sir.’

  Frank fixed his politest smile, then reached into his pocket.

  ‘Hey, I understand. And don’t worry…’ He pulled out his badge, and let the officer see it. ‘We’re on the same side – I’m Joplin PD myself.’

  Suspended... Maybe for good…

  The officer peered down at the badge, then seemed to relax slightly.

  ‘Now I appreciate you gotta keep undesirables from crowding the place,’ Frank continued. ‘I was just wondering if you had any idea when we’d be allowed to go back to our room? It’s been a long day.’

  He put a protective arm around Faye’s shoulder, the way a husband might.

  The officer hesitated, then gave him an awkward smile.

  ‘Well, I guess there’s no harm if you go inside,’ he said. ‘You might not be able to get to your room... I think they have one of the floors shut off just now. But at least you can wait in the lobby.’

  Frank inclined his head.

  ‘Much obliged,’ he said, putting his badge away, then looking up at the hotel. ‘Say, do you happen to know what’s going on in there?’

  The cop glanced around, then leaned over, his voice low.

  ‘Nothing official yet, but I hear it was a shooting. Real nasty.’