by Gwen Gardner
“Stay there,” I said calmly. “Is there a back way out of here?”
“Yes.” Padma suddenly looked frightened. “There’s an emergency exit at the back. We don’t use it.”
“Is it unlocked?”
“It’s always locked,” replied Padma, searching her purse for keys. “It’s old and crumbling, so we don’t use it.” She found the keys and disappeared through a door towards the rear of the building, returning a minute later. “I’ve unlocked it. Who’s out there?” She didn’t wait for a response from me. “I suspected trouble would follow when Brenda showed up here last week.”
“The man who was caught with Bart’s car yesterday?” I said. “He’s out there.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Great Escape
“He’s following me, not for the first time.” I turned back into the room. “Let’s go out the back.” I slipped into my jacket and grabbed my purse from under the desk. Padma did the same, watching me closely. I wasn’t sure she trusted me.
“We’ll only have a few minutes once we turn out the lights,” I said. “Once he discovers we haven’t come out, he might come up looking for me. I don’t think he realizes I know what he looks like.”
Padma nodded her understanding. If this man was involved in the murder of her friend, she didn’t want to meet him any more than I did.
“Shouldn’t we call the police?” asked Padma.
“No.” My heart fluttered in case she insisted. “Our investigation is a no police zone.” I turned to her. “Look, the police have botched this investigation from the beginning. You could drive a semi through the clues they’ve missed or chose to ignore. Bringing the police in now would slow us down.”
Padma was silent for a moment, before nodding.
I pulled my cell phone from my purse and speed-dialed Simon’s number. When he didn’t answer, I dialed Badger, who also didn’t answer. It was rather annoying since I could have used either of them right about then. I left a message for Badger, asking him to meet us near the courtyard exit. It was the best I could do.
I switched off the lights and turned the lock.
I grabbed Padma by the arm. “Let’s go.” We hurried through the dark office to the back exit, Padma locking the door behind us.
Padma hadn’t exaggerated about the deteriorating condition of the emergency exit. Not a real emergency exit at all, but a door belonging to the bygone era of the dilapidated courtyard below. It looked like a jungle down there, with the overgrown grass and trees hiding who knows what kind of creatures in the undergrowth. The safety railing, where it existed, dangled down like vines over the precarious ledge of the narrow balcony, which ran the length of the building.
I took a deep breath before starting out, hoping we wouldn’t have to swing like Tarzan, er, Jane.
We edged our way in the darkness along the second floor balcony hugging the peeling wall, trying not to get too close to the eroding edge. “There’s another stairwell down at the end,” Padma whispered. “It will take us one street over.”
I nodded, even though Padma couldn’t see.
We circled to the left and were crossing over the alley when the ledge started to give way. Padma’s scream ripped through the air as we clung to anything we could grasp, for all the good it did.
We cascaded along like a waterfall with the concrete debris and rubble, and tumbled down into the courtyard. A thick cloud of dust rose around us like a sudden fog.
I laid half beneath the debris, struggling to breathe through the thick powdery grime. Shouting and running footsteps echoed through the dark, the reverberation sounding as if we had started a stampede. But how could that be? Nobody knew we were here, except for Billy.
The thought of Billy propelled me into action. Trying out my buried limbs, the movement shifted the debris. The shouting became faint, drifting further down the alley, heading away from us...
So I seriously had a heart attack when a pair of hands reached for me. And then I made out Cappy’s features above me, arms pulling me from the rubble. Little dude was strong for such a scrawny thing.
“Indigo!” he yelled. “Are you all right?” His worried face peered at me through a cloud of plaster dust.
“I’m okay. Where’s Padma?” I dry-choked the words through grimy lips and tried to stand on wobbly legs.
“I’m here,” said a voice through the darkness. “I’m okay, I think. A few scratches.” She limped over brushing herself off, for all the good it did. Covered with a fine, white coating, she made a ghostly appearance. Looking down at my dirty and ripped clothing, I looked the same.
“Over here!” said Cappy. He dragged me by the arm as debris continued to trickle down around us. He moved lightly on his feet, like a cat slinking through the jungle, leading us through the darkness. I couldn’t see much of anything, what with my eyes caked with plaster dust. We came to the stairwell we were headed toward when the balcony gave way, only now we were on ground level.
We halted when we approached the lighted area where the passage met the street beyond. Cappy peered out both ways and appeared satisfied we were now safe.
He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number. “I’ve got them.” He spoke low into the phone, giving my appearance the once-over.
Staying in the shadows, Padma and I leaned against the wall in the alleyway. I blinked rapidly trying to remove the stinging grime from my eyes, which watered and forged tear tracks down my cheeks. I coughed and hacked, trying to eject the dust from my lungs like a coalminer. I even spit like a camel. Okay, not as good as that, but more discreetly.
“Yeah, she’s all right. They’re both all right. Okay.” Cappy disconnected and sent a text message before snapping the phone shut and replacing it in his pocket.
“What are you doing here, Cappy?” I was still confused. “Oh.” I realized I already had the answer. “It’s your day to watch Billy. But what was all that shouting? Who else is here?” I peered through the darkness, but couldn’t see anyone or hear the voices anymore.
“Badger and Simon chased Billy into the north end, so we’re safe for now,” he answered. “I called Badger as soon as I marked Billy watching you through the window.”
Which is why neither answered their cell phones. They couldn’t hear the ring over the noise of the motorcycle.
Cappy explained that Badger and Simon arrived as Billy circled around to the alley and the balcony began to collapse. Badger and Simon had entered from the alley at the opposite end of the courtyard and chased Billy, disappearing through the dark labyrinth of winding streets.
“Come on,” said Cappy. We hurried down a corridor toward the street, where Badger left his motorbike.
Cappy eyed me, shaking his head. I had a cut below my right eye, and a bloody knee peeked through my ripped tights. My frilly pink blouse was now mostly gray and would have to be tossed.
Padma had not fared much better. Big brown eyes shone out of her white face, her long brown hair now gray. Dressed in black and white as she was, she looked like a sepia-toned photo of a ghostly presence.
We received curious looks from a group that crossed the street pretty quickly after seeing us emerge from the alley.
“I’m going home,” said Padma, turning to me. “I’m sorry. I have nothing else to say. And clearly you need to stop this. Now.” She was emphatic. “Before someone else ends up dead.” She walked to the corner where she raised her arm and hailed a cab.
Her words echoed ominously in my ears.
I followed Cappy down the pavement to Badger’s motorcycle, the key still in the ignition.
I sighed, my shoulders drooping. This turn of events wasn’t doing much to boost my mood. “Seriously? I’m supposed to get on the back of that beast after what I’ve just been through?” I employed a few choice swear words under my breath and then apologized profusely. I wouldn’t want to insult the vehicular animal that was supposed to be getting me home safely.
“Sorry, Princess,” Cappy sa
id, with a so-not-sorry grin. “But damsels in distress can’t be choosey. Be ‘appy you’re not Rapunzel and hop on.” He kick-started the monster like a pro, though.
Shaking my head, I swung my battered leg over the seat, grimacing at the pain.
“Don’t people around here ever drive cars?” I muttered grumpily. Resigned, I squeezed my eyes shut tight. Once again I wore the beat up crash helmet. But I was grateful for it, truly, because I was certain that Cappy couldn’t possibly have a license to drive this thing.
Riley flung open the back door of our kitchen, frantic at the sight of me. I looked as if I had been through a war zone, and had barely escaped intact.
“Thank God you’re here!” Riley dragged me in by the arm and shoved me into a kitchen chair. Cappy hovered. “What the bloody hell happened?” She pulled items from the rucksack. Clean rags, antiseptic cream, rubbing alcohol and bandages all landed on the table.
“Look at you.” Riley muttered under her breath. She washed my face and cleaned the cut beneath my eye.
“Ow.” I sucked in my breath. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Cappy texted me, told me to come quick with a first aid kit. He said you were hurt.” She continued dabbing at my wounds. “God, Indigo, what the hell happened? You scared the life out of me!”
By way of answer, I asked, “Where’s Uncle Richard?” I was fearful I might have to explain myself looking like a prisoner of war.
“It’s that monthly business owner’s dinner, remember? My mum’s there, too. Don’t worry, it always runs late.”
And so I explained, with Cappy filling in his part.
I sprung up like a jack-in-the-box when the door crashed open and banged into the wall, sending my chair flying backward.
Riley’s cloth flew out of her hand.
Cleo arched and hissed. Her multicolored eyes flashed in fright and she bared sharp fangs at the intruders before zipping through the kitchen door.
Simon and Badger rushed in, gasping for breath, but otherwise looking quite all right. No cuts or bruises.
Cappy, having swung around from the fireplace, poker in hand, shouted. “Bloody ‘ell! Try to give a guy a ‘eart attack, why doncha!”
“Lock the door!” I shouted. “You freakin’ scared the life out of us.” The hand on my chest willed my heart to beat again.
“Sorry,” said Simon. “We were so worried – we had to make sure you made it home all right.” He turned the deadbolt and drew the curtains.
“‘Course she made it ‘ome!” said Cappy, offended. “Dint’ I say I’d get ‘er here?!” He threw Badger his motorcycle key, muttering, “What does it take before a guy gets trusted ‘round ‘ere?”
“Sorry, mate,” said Simon, clapping him on the back. “Of course we trust you. Thank you for getting Indigo home safely.”
I righted my chair and sat back down at the table. Cappy had gotten the fire going behind us, and the warmth spread into the room.
Badger kept staring at me. I was banged up to be sure, but he was looking at me rather strangely.
“What?” I said.
He shrugged. “You look different somehow.”
“Oh, you mean the grunge look? That’s what happens when you’re involved in a collapse.” I couldn’t stop the sarcasm. Not after what I had been through. “A lot to go through just for the look, but hey, totally worth it.”
The group was silent, truly a rare event.
Like a specimen under a microscope, I squirmed. “Yeah, well, it was part of the costume.” I looked down at my torn and filthy blouse, my formerly pink bra strap peeking out. “I dressed up to meet Padma.”
“Hey,” Simon blurted. “Isn’t that the pink bra I saw floating down the hall this morning?”
“As it happens, yes,” I said, blushing furiously through the grunge. “A busybody spirit said I should wear it to enhance...”
They all stared at me.
“What?! Can we not talk about my bra right now?”
“Sorry,” said Simon. “There are an awful lot of strange happenings in this house since you came, I’m not gonna lie.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The End of Billy-Watch
The pinging of Riley’s cell phone saved me from having to discuss the details of the floating pink bra. She dug the phone out of her rucksack and expertly retrieved the message while we waited.
She went mannequin-still, stiff and blank. And then looked up.
“Billy’s dead.”
Sudden silence filled the room, loud in the absence of sound. Nobody spoke, too shocked and scared. All eyes turned to Badger and Simon. Not accusatory, but I was sure it seemed that way.
“Exactly what happened out there?” I asked.
Badger pounded the table with both fists and jumped up, ready to defend himself. “We chased him into the north end and lost him,” he bellowed. “He knew the area, he gave us the slip. What do you think?”
“You can’t possibly think...” Simon began.
“No, of course not.” I shook my head. “I’m not accusing you of anything.” I looked up at Badger. “Either of you. But you must know how this looks. Did anyone see you?” I looked back and forth between them, waiting for someone to answer.
The implication suddenly dawned on them. They were now suspects. If anyone had seen them chasing Billy, then they could be in a whole lot of serious trouble. And Cappy was an accessory, maybe even me. All of us were in the area, except for Riley.
“Bloody hell.” Simon turned pale as me.
I turned to Riley. “Do we know how he died? Are there any witnesses, any suspects?”
She re-checked the message on her phone. “He was found tangled in brush by the side of the Sabrina by a couple walking their dog at around,” she scrolled down, “eleven o’clock tonight. His head was bashed in.”
The significance of how Billy died was not lost on any of us. He died the same way Bart did.
“That’s all?” asked Cappy. “No witnesses or nothin’?”
“No,” said Riley, “but it’s early yet. I’ll probably know more tomorrow.” She replaced her phone in her rucksack.
“How did you...?” Simon started to ask what we had all been wondering for quite some time. How did she have access to official information? But the deadly glare she shot at him stopped him.
“At least now we know one thing,” I said, looking around the table. “Billy wasn’t our killer...but he must have known who was.”
“Yeah,” said Simon, getting up to pour more coffee. He dumped several spoonfuls of sugar and filled half his mug with milk and stirred loudly. He sat back down at the table before continuing. “And Billy must have reported what happened tonight to the killer.”
“And,” said Cappy. “Even if ‘e didn’t know before, Billy must ‘ave realized who the killer was once ‘e got busted with the car.”
“And what if he was blackmailing the killer?” I added, thinking through the implication out loud. “Then the killer had to get rid of him – he was becoming a liability, a risk.”
“The killer knows we’re asking questions,” Cappy put in. “So ‘e must be getting nervous.”
Riley frowned. “And now that there’s one more body, and the four of you might be implicated, things have gotten more complicated.”
“Not to mention risky. A killer knows we’re investigating,” I said. “With two people dead now, probably three, he has nothing left to lose – any one of us could be next.” We sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in our own thoughts.
I glanced at Badger. He had calmed down. Way down. He stopped participating in the conversation. His face was devoid of emotion, a blank slate. It filled me with dread. And for good reason, I soon discovered.
“We’re done,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.
Everyone began protesting at once, me the loudest.
I leapt to my feet, pleading. “Badger, we can’t stop now. Not when we’re so close.” I looked down at the top of Simon’
s head. Didn’t Badger see how important this was to him? To all of us?
“Look,” said Badger, ticking off points on his fingers. “First Billy gets busted yesterday with Dad’s car. Then he gets busted following Indigo. Indigo practically gets killed. And then we chase him and he ends up dead.” He stood up, shaking his head. “We’re done.” Like a dictator, the topic was not open for discussion or debate.
“This is because of me, isn’t it?” Our eyes locked. “Because I keep blowing it. Because I’m a klutz and keep getting hurt.” My eyes swam with tears, begging him to deny it.
He avoided the question. “We’re getting nowhere! Can’t you see? We’ve gotten no further than the police.” Now he was pleading with me. Nobody else in the room existed but us. “We’re suspecting friends and neighbors. You’re always getting hurt. Who’s next? Riley? Simon or Cappy?” He ran frustrated fingers through his unruly hair.
I took several steps toward him. “Badger, please.”
“No! It’s over,” he shouted. “Don’t you understand?”
“No, I don’t understand. You’re going to have to spell it out for me.” I managed to choke out the words even though my throat constricted with unshed tears.
“Everything you do...” He paced the room. “You knock me to the ground, throw coffee on me, barf all over my shoes. Bloody hell, what’s not to understand? You’re a walking disaster!”
I hadn’t left him any choice but to say it, but hearing it out loud still hurt.
Simon, Cappy and Riley all jumped to their feet, protesting his harsh words.
“No,” I said. “It’s all right...he’s right. I am a disaster. If you’ll all excuse me...” I ran for the back stairs before I made a further fool of myself by bursting into tears. Raised voices trailed behind me, but Badger’s words went with me, haunting me, a hurt that I couldn’t outrun. You’re a walking disaster. And now the investigation was over because of me. I let them all down. Simon, Badger, Riley. Bart. But mostly myself.
