A Knock at the Door

by Ellis, T. W.

‘I’m worried about Merlin,’ I tell Trevor.

  Trevor isn’t.

  ‘Don’t be,’ he tells me. ‘That hound is one self-reliant little beast. Every now and again he’ll wander off into the woods and I won’t see him for a week and he comes back looking no different to how he looked when he set off. I don’t know how he does it, but he can take care of himself. If I drop down dead of a heart attack right now he’s going to be A-okay. He won’t even miss me.’

  I give him a light punch on the arm. ‘Don’t say that.’

  ‘Why not? He’s a dog.’

  ‘Not that,’ I say. ‘Don’t say that about dropping down dead.’

  ‘Why not?’ Trevor says again. ‘I’m an old man, older than I ever expected to get. Every second I’m vertical is a victory, way I see it. But I ain’t winning this fight. No sucker ever does and only true suckers don’t accept it.’

  ‘I’m not sure if you’re purely pragmatic or a nihilist.’

  ‘Maybe I’m neither. You consider that? Maybe I’m just me.’

  I stop the car when I see another payphone, this one at a rest area off the highway. I call Leo’s cell, and just like before I get his voicemail. I don’t leave a message.

  Maybe he’s out of battery, I think.

  I feed in more coins, calling home. I’m not sure why but there’s a feeling. Is it hope? Is it delusion?

  Three rings and a woman says, ‘Talhoffer residence, who’s calling?’

  I say, ‘Who’s this?’

  ‘Jem?’ she asks.

  ‘Who is this?’ I ask again.

  ‘Jem, this is Rusty. The chief of police.’

  I wasn’t expecting her to answer. I’m not sure who I was expecting to answer if not Leo, but now it makes sense it would be Rusty. Who else would it be?

  I take a breath. ‘I expect you’ve got a few questions you would like to ask me.’

  ‘If there was an award for understatement you’ve just took gold.’

  ‘I’m scared, Rusty. I’m really scared.’

  ‘I think you should come home, Jem. Or to my office if you prefer. I’m good with either. But you need to come see me. Sooner the better.’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ I tell her.

  ‘Why can’t you?’

  ‘People are trying to kill me, Rusty.’

  ‘That’s why you need to turn yourself in. I can protect you. No one’s coming through me to get to you, I can promise you that.’

  I’m looking around in case there’s cruisers creeping up on me. ‘I tried coming to you already, remember? And now I’m here.’

  There’s a pause before Rusty says, ‘Why don’t you tell me what happened?’

  ‘Wilks and Messer,’ I begin, ‘they’re not who they say they are. They tried to kill me.’

  ‘Go on,’ she says.

  ‘They’re looking for something of Leo’s. When they took me back home they were looking for it and I … Leo called. I warned him. They tried to … Messer’s dead.’

  ‘I know he’s dead, Jem,’ Rusty says in a flat monotone. ‘I’m looking at his corpse right now. And it’s a real ugly corpse. He’s got several bullets in him and a pair of scissors sticking out of his neck. Makes me a little queasy, I’m not embarrassed to say. In all my years in uniform I’ve never seen anything like it.’

  ‘Is Wilks alive?’

  There’s a silence. She’s not sure how to respond.

  ‘She is,’ she says. ‘She’s here with me.’

  ‘And that’s exactly why I can’t come back. She’ll kill me.’

  ‘Wilks is on your side,’ Rusty says.

  I laugh. A bitter, sarcastic laugh. ‘Then she has you fooled like she fooled me.’

  ‘Let’s all sit down and talk this through. You can tell me your side of the story. You can explain your side of the story and I’ll listen. I promise I’ll listen. I’m a good listener, Jem. Real good.’

  ‘They tried to kill me,’ I tell her. ‘Carlson saved me.’

  ‘Carlson,’ Rusty says.

  ‘Yes, Carlson.’

  ‘Where is he now? With you?’

  ‘He was,’ I tell her. ‘But he lied to me too. He’s … I don’t know where he is now. He’s out there somewhere. You need to find him before he finds me.’

  Rusty says, ‘I’m doing everything I can to help you, Jem. But you need to help me too. You need to turn yourself in before this gets any more out of control. There’s a dead man in your house, Jem. There’s a dead man in your house and you’re on the run. You’ve fled the scene of a crime. That’s not okay.’

  ‘I’m not on the run,’ I tell her. ‘I mean, I’m not on the run from you.’

  Rusty’s tone becomes grave, serious. ‘You’re an accessory to murder, Jem, and every second you’re out there and not here makes it look worse for you and makes it harder for me to help you.’

  Are they looking for me right now? Has Rusty sent out an APB or whatever it’s called? I take a deep breath and try to silence those questions. Worrying, despite being my number one skill, isn’t going to help me now.

  ‘I’ve done nothing wrong,’ I yell down the phone.

  ‘I want to believe you,’ Rusty says. ‘But you need to turn yourself in if you want me to help you because at this moment it’s your word versus Wilks’, and who would you pay more attention to if you were me?’

  She’s right and I know it, and hate it. I hate that I can’t do anything about it right now. Yet if I turn myself in, tell my side of the story, I lose control. I trap myself. I give all the power to Wilks.

  ‘Whatever she has told you is a lie. She’s not a good guy, Rusty. She might be an FBI agent but she’s dirty. She’s corrupt. She’s trying to turn you against me.’

  Rusty says, ‘She doesn’t work for the FBI, Jem. She’s from National Security.’

  ‘Is she? Well, she was FBI this morning. I wonder what she’ll be tomorrow.’

  ‘There are national security concerns at work here. Sensitive matters. She’s explained why she couldn’t tell you the full story earlier today and I’ve been thorough in checking out her claims. They’re legitimate, I assure you.’

  ‘Messer tried to kill me, Rusty. He was going to strangle me to death. I’m not making it up.’

  ‘How is Carlson involved?’

  She says ‘Carlson’ in a way that makes me think she doesn’t believe he even exists.

  ‘Carlson is the one who saved me from Wilks and Messer. I’d be dead if it weren’t for him.’

  ‘So he’s been helping you? Is that right?’

  I hesitate. ‘No. I mean, he was. But … I ran from him. I can’t trust him. He’s not who he says he is either. He told me he knows Leo but it was a lie.’

  ‘Uh huh,’ Rusty says.

  I realise I’m sounding paranoid, erratic. Insane. I can’t make Rusty understand over the phone. It’s my word against Wilks’, and she’s a stone-cold liar. She’s a professional liar. Whether she’s FBI, NSA, both or neither, she knows what she’s doing. She’s got this all worked out.

  I’m making it up as I go along.

  ‘I’ll prove it,’ I tell her. ‘I’ll prove all of this.’

  ‘I believe you,’ she says in return. ‘Just come find me and I’ll listen with open ears. They’re like jugs, Jem, and they know truth when they hear it. I swear I will give you every chance to tell me what happened, your way.’

  ‘I know you will, Rusty. I know you’ll listen to my every word and I also know it won’t make a single bit of difference unless I can back up my claims with proof.’

  ‘Jem, please listen—’

  ‘No, Rusty, you listen. I’m not coming in. I’m not going to sit down and talk it through because you’ve already made your mind up. I can’t change it, can I?’

  ‘I’ll try to understand. Why don’t we start from there and see where we end up?’

  ‘I’m going to get proof, Rusty. I’m going to clear my name and I’m going to protect my husband.’

  ‘Have you hear
d from Leo?’

  ‘Not since this afternoon,’ I tell her. ‘Not since I warned him about Wilks and Messer.’

  There’s a long pause; I think Rusty is talking to Wilks or whoever and has her hand over the receiver.

  Then she says, ‘Do you know where Leo is now?’

  ‘No, I have no idea. He was at the airport when I spoke to him. He was supposed to be on a plane to England but it was grounded. He—’

  ‘Jem,’ Rusty says in a soft tone, ‘Leo wasn’t booked on any flight to England.’

  ‘What are you talking about? I don’t understand.’

  She’s silent for a moment. I grow uneasy, thinking about what she might say next. Is this a trick?

  ‘Jem,’ Rusty says, gentle, sympathetic. ‘I told you I’m thorough, didn’t I? Well, I’ve checked flight records. I’ve spoken to airliners. I’ve spoken to the staff at every airport in driving distance. Leo was booked on no flight. No flight has been grounded. All the planes to England left on time and Leo was on none of them because he wasn’t booked to be on any in the first place.’

  I stare out into the night. ‘But he said—’

  ‘He lied to you, Jem. Your husband’s been lying to you for a very long time.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t say any more over the phone. You’re going to have to come in if you want the truth.’

  ‘Nice try,’ I say, and hang up.

  12:32 a.m.

  I’ve never enjoyed driving at night. It’s too easy to get focused on the darkness, the isolation. If I have to, I keep the radio on so that song lyrics push my thoughts away and I don’t feel the overwhelming urge to look over my shoulder to check that no one is hiding in the back. Trevor is driving now, so I’m slumped in the passenger seat, tired but unable to sleep. He’s keeping quiet so as not to disturb me. He’s such a sweet man. The only person who hasn’t lied to me, hasn’t tried to trick me. I have no idea how I’ll ever be able to repay him for all he’s done.

  I will, though. Somehow. When – if – this is finally over.

  I’m trying to find a solution to a problem that didn’t exist yesterday. I’m trying to find an answer to a question I’m not sure how to ask.

  Was Rusty lying about Leo, or has Leo been lying to me?

  I don’t want to believe that Rusty can’t be trusted any more than I want to believe that I can’t trust Leo.

  I talk it through with Trevor. I tell him everything Rusty said, all my thoughts and worries, and he is quiet for a long moment after I’ve finished. He looks both contemplative and wise and I want his input. I want to hear his opinion. I can’t trust myself at the best of times and I need someone calm, someone sane.

  ‘Well?’ I say. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I’m not sure my opinion holds any weight here.’

  ‘It does, Trevor. That’s why I want you to tell me what you think. Rusty could be lying to me, couldn’t she? She could be trying to get me to turn myself in by telling me what she thinks will lure me into custody.’

  He exhales a big lungful of air, shaking his head the entire time. ‘The chief has always struck me as a righteous woman. In the traditional sense, I mean.’

  ‘Sure,’ I say. ‘She’s straight as an arrow.’

  ‘But I’ve never had any reason to see her at work, so to speak.’

  ‘You’re saying she thinks I’m a criminal, maybe even a murderer, so she’s not going to be truthful with me?’

  ‘It’s a possibility, sure. What does your gut tell you? It usually knows best.’

  ‘My gut? My gut tells me that this whole situation is so messed up it can’t be real and I just need to wake up and everything will be okay again.’

  ‘On second thoughts maybe don’t listen to your gut.’

  ‘Come on, Trevor, I’m lost in the wilderness here. I need an outside perspective. I need some guidance or I’m never going to find my way home again. Literally.’

  ‘Then I think Rusty would tell you the truth as best as she knows it.’

  ‘So, you’re saying she could be mistaken?’

  He grunts. ‘Don’t go putting words into my mouth. Only you know your husband, Jem. I’m just along for the ride.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘I shouldn’t be looking to you for answers. That’s not fair. You should be tucked up in bed right now.’

  ‘He’s your husband,’ Trevor says. ‘You love him. Up until this morning everything was right as rain. You don’t want your whole world turned upside down again when it’s been turned upside down already. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.’

  ‘Technically,’ I say, ‘if it’s been turned upside down and gets turned upside down a second time, then it would be put right way up again.’

  He makes a noise, a low growl of discontent from the bottom of his throat.

  ‘Sorry,’ I say.

  ‘You don’t need to apologise every five seconds.’

  ‘I can’t help it.’

  ‘Are you Canadian?’

  I put my head into my hands.

  ‘Ah, come on,’ Trevor says. ‘Being Canadian isn’t that bad.’

  I rub at my eyes. ‘Is this what my life is going to be like now? Never being able to trust a single thing anyone says to me?’

  ‘I’d like to tell you otherwise,’ he says.

  ‘But you can’t?’

  He shakes his head. ‘I won’t. I won’t because you’re in a hole, Jem, and there are people dangling ropes into that hole and promising to haul you out. But, pick the wrong rope and they can just as easily let go of it when you’re halfways up. Don’t trust anything you can’t see with your own eyes, that you can’t touch with your own hands. The only way you’re going to get through this is by trusting yourself.’

  We drive in silence for a while.

  My pulse spikes whenever I see a set of headlights behind or ahead. Light is my enemy. Darkness is my friend.

  Leo’s warehouse isn’t far now. I’ve been there once before, years ago when he first acquired it. He was an entrepreneur, proud of his achievements, and I was proud of him. I think I still am.

  I hope I still will be at the end.

  The warehouse is nestled in a business park on the outskirts of NYC. I’m not sure of the address but I remember how to get there. I can picture the building. I can picture the buildings nearby. I’ve told Trevor to drive towards the city and I’ll direct him from there.

  ‘I don’t have much call to go to the big city usually,’ he told me.

  ‘We’re not going to NYC, Trevor.’

  ‘Have even less reason to go there.’

  ‘When was the last time you left the state?’

  ‘Probably before you were born.’

  If nothing else I’m unravelling the mystery that is Trevor.

  The highway is a ghost road at this time of night. Just the occasional haulage truck. Every regular person is in bed. I miss my bed so much. I want to be engulfed in my duvet.

  I’m wary of Rusty’s troopers scouring the highways looking for me. God, I’m a fugitive. They think I’m a criminal. Am I? I’m sure I’ve broken some laws. I’m sure Wilks has ensured Rusty believes I’ve broken others. I see no cruisers. I hear no sirens. If they’re out looking for me then it’s not this far south.

  It’s approaching one in the morning by the time we reach the business park. There’s a traffic island before the in-road and I can’t quite remember if the soulless piece of modern art at the centre of the island has always been there. Either way, it’s hideous. A barely formed lump of metal representing something I cannot possibly comprehend. I’m sure Trevor thinks the same. I don’t ask him, though. I’m too focused on what we might find.

  The business park is dead at this hour. I’m sure there is some activity in some of the large buildings, but for the most part it’s quiet and there are no signs of life. I don’t see a single person. Good. I don’t want to be seen if it can be helped.

  Leo�
�s unit is harder to find than I expected. In my head I could picture it well, but I didn’t account for the number of meandering roads that lead me through a myriad of twists and turns, and I get lost.

  ‘Haven’t we driven by here before?’

  ‘Yes, Trevor. Well observed.’

  Did we go right here, or left? Are we going down the same road or do the units just look similar?

  At last, I find where I’m supposed to be going. I recognise a big square building that used to house a start-up tech firm but now I see it’s been converted into storage units. Unbeatable prices, apparently.

  Two units further on is Leo’s warehouse.

  ‘There it is,’ I say to Trevor after we’ve passed.

  ‘Then why didn’t you tell me before I’d driven straight by it?’

  ‘In case.’

  ‘In case of what?’

  ‘They might be watching it?’

  ‘Who might be watching it?’

  I frown his way. ‘Wilks. Carlson. Rusty. Whoever … ’

  ‘How would they have beat us here?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I snap. ‘I’m being cautious. Even if no one got here first, I don’t want to park outside and advertise the fact that we’re here.’

  ‘Hmm. Smart thinking.’

  ‘I have my moments.’

  Finding a place to park isn’t quite as easy as I would have liked. I don’t want to be right outside Leo’s unit and I don’t want to be a significant distance away either because on foot we’ll be exposed and if we need to get out of here with haste, we won’t be able to. I’m the Goldilocks of parking requirements.

  I tell Trevor to pull on to a strip of open space before the offices of some financial firm. There’s gaudy signage that makes me think they provide quick loans to poor people in return for exorbitant interest rates. I feel zero guilt for trespassing on their property.

  We’re far enough away that no CCTV cameras will get a shot of us. There’s bound to be a security guard in front of monitors somewhere. I don’t want to give him a reason to come investigate what we’re up to.

  Trevor turns off the engine, and the only sound I can hear is my breathing.

  Trevor says, ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘No, but let’s do it anyway.’