Persona Non Grata

by D. C. Grahame

  Frank returned his attention to the meeting. Unaware that in the darkness above, a figure in a gargoyle-like pose watched from the second floor.

  Heracles approached Frank, each of them sporting a gleaming smile as they shook hands.

  Indy, in the suit, watched on from above, flushed within the darkness. A tribute to the dark figure that often plagued him.

  Regretting his decision to attend the moment he saw a man with an automatic weapon. He could feel his own mind taunting him. Making jokes about how the metal bullets would merely bounce off his cheap, plastic shin-pads. Throughout Heracles speech, Indy considered attempting a retreat more than the one time. But Frank’s presence kept him locked in position. His brother smiling and assimilating with the type of people he loathed. He tried his best not to fidget as he observed, knowing even the most gentle of movements triggered the suspending chains to chime. He softly climbed off the second-floor balcony and onto a pair of crates stacked on one another.

  Frank began to converse with one of the farmers about the process of tampering with the drug. Attempting to speak the technical lingo involved in pharmaceuticals. Heracles in a moment of silent contempt, looked up at the roof, hearing the chains chink and shiver above.

  ‘Jay come here.’ He called out to one of his right-hand men. ‘Can you hear that?’

  ‘Might be the wind?’ Jay replied, looking up at the shadows. Indy crouched down frozen. Unsure if his new suit camouflaged him in the darkness, or reflected light back like a new penny. The two Yardie’s eyes remained fixed on his location. Looking dead at him. He felt the pores of his palms and forehead begin to sweat. ‘I think it’s the wind boss.’ Jay commented as Heracles walked away from the meeting and towards the left wall. Hoping to see better away from the bright overhanging bulbs.

  Indy realised his time was up. He could feel his body prepare to flee long before his brain could arrive at a decision. Frank now lost in a discussion he didn’t comprehend, noticed Heracles distracted and headed to meet him.

  ‘What is it?’ Frank asked anxiously. Heracles kept a neutral, focused face as he looked in Indy’s shadowed corner. Indy knew he was supposed to fret. To feel immediate and appropriate fear. But the suit tranquilised his nerves, it somehow transformed his mentality. The suit made him feel defiant. It made him feel powerful. If Heracles was to stare fearlessly into the shadows, Indy felt the shadows should stare back.

  Frank, now the third man to gaze toward the crate. Began to second guess himself, the darkness was not only moving but also appearing to gaze back at him. To his internalised hysteria, a shape formed in the emptiness. Like an evil spirit arriving from hell. A dark figure solidified, and its chilling skull-like face probed into the light.

  ‘The fuck... is... that...’ Frank murmured terrified. Heracles neurotic for a moment, gathered his composure.

  ‘Fire at that corner!’ he called out to his men. Before he could finish his command, Indy sprinted from his poise and ran into the labyrinth of containers.

  Legging it for all his life, he could hear the sound of relentless gunfire hammering his previous reconnaissance spot.

  ‘This is so stupid.’ He muttered to himself, almost chuckling at the insane scenario. Needing all the help he could get, he clocked a fire alarm to his left and smashed the safety glass, triggering it.

  The factory’s roof sprinklers soaked all inside as Frank turned to Heracles bewildered and enraged.

  ‘What the fuck was that?’ He yelled as Heracles hurried his beloved farmers back into their car. With them tucked into their seatbelts, he rotated back to Frank equally enraged.

  ‘You tell me, you’re both new to these meetings’ He reminded with a testy, insinuating tone.

  ‘I don’t have Satan on speed dial.’ Frank replied. ‘I thought you said your operation was secure.’

  ‘Get in the car, Frank.’ Heracles commanded like a father grounding his son. The club-owner didn’t argue, climbing into the car. Conceding that masked monsters fell outside of his underworld experience.

  ‘Find whoever that was.’ Heracles ordered Jay and a fellow colossal-shaped subordinate who headed deeper into the factory.

  Indy arrived at the far end fire-exit, throwing himself into the double doors. The attempt saw him bounce back hard to the ground. On investigation, the exit was blocked by a large dumpster outside. Desperate, he again threw himself into the door, only to crash down in pain. A subtle reminder from the suit that his shoulder and upper-arm were the only areas of his body not padded. Hearing the approaching footsteps of sprinting men pursuing. He began to kick and stomp on the door viciously, hoping to shift the dumpster behind by even an inch.

  Accepting his predicament. Trapped by his own lack of foresight in planning an escape route. He turned to face whoever was around the corner. Within a second or two, Jay and his massive colleague, Suga, reached the dark, masked figure. The pair sharing a look of timid astonishment.

  ‘Holy Moses...’ Jay muttered as his mammoth compatriot stood by awaiting the order to stampede. ‘Who or what are you?’ he asked, causing Indy to realise he was currently a demon without a name. Unable to conjure one then and there, he stood silent. ‘If you come with us, I won’t let my boy Suga here pummel you into an urban myth.’ Jay advised.

  ‘Tell your boss to stop pedalling drugs in the city...’ Indy replied, debuting the reverberating, menacing voice of the suit. The demand only enraged Suga who without the go-ahead sprinted towards Indy, moving at far greater speed than a man of his stature should and would do. Indy off guard, couldn’t calculate a response in time, feeling the man’s entire weight expel from the shoulder into his own ribcage. He could feel his lungs rupture like deflated beach balls as he struggled to consume air. Jay demanded Suga to retreat as the hulk removed himself from Indy’s personal space. The latter giving a weak impression of a dying Darth Vader as he collapsed to the ground.

  ‘Keep an eye on him. I will get H.’ Jay ordered, leaving the scene. Suga leaned his intimidating frame against one of the containers as Indy studied the floor. Desperate for a defensive aid and then maybe some oxygen. He saw a crow-bar buried beneath some rubble.

  ‘Hey, big mamma’ he called out, the pleasant phrase contradicting with his echoing tone. ‘That all you got?’ he asked, climbing onto one foot, kneeling with the other. Suga took the bait. Enraged by the audacity of the masked figure, he swarmed for him once more. Indy with all the strength he had left, grabbed the crowbar and swung it furiously towards the big man’s temple.

  The bigger they are, the harder they fall. And Suga’s limp, thick body flew into the double doors, pushing the dumpster behind it an inch forward. Hearing the sound of re-enforcements incoming. Indy ripped Suga’s coat from his unconscious frame and wrapped it around his own shoulder. With one final chance to rid himself of this nightmare. He shoulder-charged the door, causing it to open another additional inch. A merciful gap wide enough to worm his way through. He exited the building and hurried into the street. Clocking Heracles’s parked SUV outside, he leapt into a small dumpster near it. Awaiting the gang’s exit.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ Frank asked Heracles as the Yardie leader climbed into the car, displeased with Jay and Suga’s failure.

  ‘It got away.’ Heracles announced.

  ‘It?! What is it?!’ Frank said, exasperated.

  ‘Relax, probably one of your many admirers Frank.’

  ‘No chance, I don’t know anyone that invested in Black Panther comics.’

  ‘Really? Whoever it was knocked Suga out cold. I only know a few contenders for that short list, one being your beloved brother.’ Heracles stated.

  ‘John? No chance. No way.’ Frank replied.

  ‘No? Coincidental timing though wouldn’t you agree? Maybe as a favour to his best bud Red, keeping tabs on you and the profits he has yet to receive.’

  ‘No chance.’ Frank replied, adamant.

  ‘Well, we’ll know soon enough, tomorrow night we’ll visit your other
business partner. I’m not risking anything on this project. Now let’s get out of this shit hole.’ Heracles informed, signalling the driver with a tap on the partition window.

  Indy having heard the exchange, watched the SUV make its exit. Realising there was already consequences to his actions.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  John awakened to the smell of bacon and eggs. The fragrance laying a path from his position to the kitchen. Still dizzy from the painkillers, he walked into the dining area. Awaiting him, placid and curious, the young boy from the previous night sat patiently. Grace placed the bacon and eggs onto the little man’s Star Wars plate.

  ‘Good morning. Are you hungry?’ She greeted John. Who nonplus gave the boy a puzzling glance. The youngster wasn’t shy, as he reciprocated with an almost exaggerated stare.

  ‘George this is John, John this is George.’ Grace announced to the pair, hiding her nerves as she served George his breakfast. John sat down on the seat next to the boy.

  ‘Nice to meet you, George.’ He said.

  ‘John.’ the boy replied with a tone almost disapproving. John with a stumped frown turned to Grace, who now had her back to the pair, smiling to herself.

  ‘Good to see you on your feet. Abi said the drugs she had you on would keep you pretty much out of it for a few days.’ She explained.

  ‘Red’s Abi did this?’ he replied surprised, pointing to his bandaging.

  ‘I don’t know if Red has naming rights to her.’ She replied.

  ‘I can’t even remember coming over here.’

  ‘Yesterday afternoon, Indy and Red carried you in.’

  ‘Uncle Indy?’ George interrupted. Grace smiled.

  ‘Yes sweet.’ She replied. Indy’s prefix causing an awkward pause between the adults in the room.

  ‘How old are you George?’ John enquired, consuming his bacon.

  ‘Old enough John, how old are you?’ George replied. John paused as the bacon hovered between his open lips.

  ‘Did your mum tell you to say that?’ he asked, watching as George turned to his mum who nodded with approval. He then turned back to face their guest.

  ‘Yes.’ he said with a small grin. His contagious smile causing Grace to giggle. John took a large bite of bacon and nodded towards the boy as he chewed it.

  ‘Game on George, game on.’ He uttered as the youngster finished up and ran upstairs to get ready for school.

  Grace alone with John, loaded the dishwasher. Not wanting to follow her son’s exit with an immediate on-point discussion.

  ‘Well, he’s a little dude.’

  ‘Yeah, he’s the greatest gift.’ She replied, continuing to load the dishes. John realised that the elephant in the room would remain unannounced.

  ‘I guess I’ll see him when he gets back from school.’ He noted, prompting her to close the dishwasher door in a manner more aggressive than usual.

  ‘John, you’re staying here because I want you to be okay, but once you are, I think you should go back to wherever you came from. Whatever your agenda is here, looking at your neck, I’d say it’s not worth it, wouldn’t you?’ she rationalised, leaning back against the oven top.

  ‘I just...’ he replied stuttering, ‘... you know I only came back to make sure Indy was okay.’

  ‘You know, with everything that has happened between us. I would have thought you’d do me the courtesy of lying better.’ She scolded. Before John could provide a rebuttal, the front door knocked, and Indy’s endearing face peeked through the letterbox. Eager to converse with his brother about recent events.

  Indy led his brother upstairs to the entrance of Grace’s bedroom door. The elder, more experienced brother immediately sensed something different in his sibling.

  ‘What’s going on?’ John called out.

  ‘I’m worried about Frank.’ Indy replied.

  ‘Well, gonorrhoea while unpleasant is treatable.’ John stated, dismissive of any potential woe.

  ‘Seriously, he’s in deep with Heracles and his boys. He was at a drug deal in the Imperial quarter last night.’ Indy explained with some urgency. John could only fake disbelief and concern. More than expecting this sort of conduct from his least favourite brother.

  ‘Comic Sans is his own man, what do you want me to do about it? Also, how do you know all that?’

  ‘I thought you said we need to keep an eye on him.’

  ‘Yeah with Kane’s boys. The Yardies sell weed to fund real estate back in merry old London, hardly a concern to your health.’ John replied, somewhat contrasting to any previous conversation they had shared about Frank.

  ‘Okay’ Indy replied, watching as John reviewed Grace’s bed. Kendrick’s jeans laid out on top of the duvet. ‘Hey, you can review Grace’s undies later. Do we really think Frank is okay in these types of scenarios?’

  ‘Indy. I knew the moment Frank pushed Heracles for finance to acquire Que Pasa. It was only going to be the first step in whatever bull-shit American dream he had.’ John said, now actively scanning for Grace’s underwear. Indy looked at him inquisitively.

  ‘How did you know Frank went to Heracles for funds?’ Indy queried. John awoke from his lingerie-induced trance.

  ‘What?’ he replied. Indy raised an eyebrow as Grace arrived at the bottom step of the stairs.

  ‘You guys, a Detective Marler is here to speak with you.’ John gave Indy a damning look before leading them both downstairs.

  Awaiting their arrival, Marler stood patiently at the door. A grand presence with a strange look of acknowledgement across his face. He considered John a friend once upon a time. And it had been a while since they recognised each other in any manner.

  ‘Detective, what do we owe the pleasure?’

  ‘John.’ Marler replied with a neutral tone, shifting his head an inch to scope the sibling who followed John down. ‘And you must be Indy.’ He greeted. Indy nodded politely. All the while beginning to deduce all the hypothetical scenarios in which the detective would be aware of last night’s activities.

  ‘How do you know I’m not Frank?’ Indy said brazenly. Marler couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.

  ‘Oh, I know what your brother looks like’ referring to the many occasions he had dealt with Frank and his club events.

  ‘How can we help you, detective? It’s still detective right?’ John asked.

  ‘Yeah.’ Marler replied as Grace guided them all to the living room. The three millennials plotted down on to the two-seat sofa, Indy settling down on its arm. Marler settled his large tush on the couch opposite.

  ‘I came to take a report on your attack, John.’ he informed, causing John to back-up an inch surprised.

  ‘My attack? I thought you were homicide?’

  ‘I am, but when I heard that one of James’s boys was attacked, in such a fashion’ he said, trying not to look at John’s bandaged throat, ‘I took the call.’ His tone implied a genuine concern, which caught John off balance.

  ‘I appreciate that, but I... didn’t see a face.’

  ‘What?’ Grace muttered both to herself and directly into John’s ear.

  ‘It happened very quickly. I was too busy trying to defend myself to look for faces. I’m sorry.’

  ‘You’re sure John, not one face.’

  ‘Not one.’ John said. Indy couldn’t help but think back to his recent hospital stay, Eva’s angst as he opted not to press charges. The Vinyars pride was something that both disillusioned and frustrated the Morgan family. ‘I really don’t want to escalate it any further. Let you get back to more important things.’

  ‘Okay. Thanks for your time. I will call you if we have any further information. You have a lovely home miss.’ Marler replied, seeing little value in sticking around.

  He could sense something elusive in John’s return, an unspoken motive. He knew the young man had little restraint in naming names, shovelling manure Kane’s way. For him to stay silent implied something undesirable was pending.

  ‘How is the case going?’ Ind
y rose from behind John’s shoulder, referring to Marler’s career crushing task.

  ‘It’s going. We all know what I do is retrospective. Every lead that goes cold could mean another victim. Whoever this man is, he knows where the police will and won’t be.’ Marler explained, giving John an imploring look.

  The word choice shook Indy. Retrospective. As in, too late. The petty criminals, even the Worthing killer, knew that the response to crime was always retrospective. They enjoyed the spoils of their ways. Knowing the law was spending most of its time looking back, picking up the pieces. The Worthing killer, if not caught in the act, would likely not be caught at all. Simultaneous consequence only happened in the movies. Criminals knew that better than both the public and the police.

  ‘You’ll catch him.’ Indy said insistent. Marler nodded and bid Grace a thank you for her hospitality before exiting. John, now dubious of Marler’s visit, kept his eyes on the man’s exit.

  Mann watched her partner womble around the corner of Grace’s house. Sheltering himself from the rain. At the car, he took a moment to evaluate a broken fence panel, curious to its cause.

  Climbing into the toasty warm vehicle. Mann handed him a half-consumed pack of Oreos the two of them were sharing.

  ‘Well?’ she probed as Marler started the engine, grabbing a cookie.

  ‘Pointless.’ He replied.

  ‘Not our guy then?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I only did this to appease you.’ He moaned.

  ‘And I appreciate your efforts to limit my moaning. Why not?’

  ‘Listen, though John tries with every possible attempt to come off as the phantom menace. A sick, elusive killer, he is not.’ Marler decreed, pulling away from the curb, ‘more than qualified, though...’ he countered to himself.