by Ellis, T. W.
In Rome.
I say to Trevor, ‘You can probably stop looking right about now.’
‘Say again?’
But I don’t. Instead I pick up the frame. It’s deceptively heavy. I turn it over and use my nails to open up the back. Not easy, because they’re always short, always bitten down to the quick as a relief for my anxiety. I manage it after a short struggle.
Something falls out on to the desk.
Tiny, square, thin and plastic.
A micro SD card.
‘What’s that?’ Trevor asks.
‘If I were to guess,’ I say with a measured amount of understatement, ‘I think I’ve found what everyone’s really after.’
Trevor stares at the micro SD card as though he has no idea what it is.
He says, ‘I have no idea what that is.’
‘You know what a hard drive is? Those things they have in computers to store data?’ He nods. ‘Same thing, only smaller. Think of every book you’ve ever read in your life. They could all fit on here with room for a thousand more.’
Trevor looks at me like I’ve discovered fire. ‘So, what’s on it?’
‘That’s kind of the question, isn’t it? Whatever Leo’s been doing, whoever he’s been doing it for, is on here. That’s my guess, anyway. Can’t exactly tell anything more right now.’
‘How do we get to peek inside?’
I look around the computer on Leo’s desk, checking the ports. ‘There’s no micro SD slot. We need a reader thing.’ Trevor has no idea what I’m talking about and I try and explain with my hands. ‘A little device that we plug the micro SD card into, and then that little device plugs into the computer.’
‘Why don’t they make the computer with that little device in it in the first place?’
I search the desk drawers in case there’s a reader lurking in one. ‘You tell me, Trevor, you tell me.’
‘Greed,’ he tells me. ‘That’s why. It’s all about their greed impinging upon our freedoms. This is what happens when society forgets its core values and instead of worshipping a power higher than itself it puts its devotion on material gain, expecting a better return. Then, what you find is—’
‘I wasn’t expecting an answer,’ I tell him.
‘Consider it an unintended bonus.’
‘Uh huh.’
There’s no micro USB reader in any drawer. We search the office together, carefully, but still nothing.
‘I don’t know where we can find a reader so late at night,’ I say. ‘Even if we hadn’t left Carlson there, I’m guessing there isn’t a reader gathering dust in your cabin.’
‘I have no reader,’ Trevor says. ‘Because I am an actual reader, as a lot more folk should be.’
I don’t comment. ‘I have one at home. We probably have more than one scattered about. But, kind of off limits at this moment.’
‘Why would you need more than one reader?’
‘You just … you just sort of collect these things, Trevor. No one sets out to have more than one. It’s like USB chargers. Before you know it you’re—’
I stop. Trevor is wide-eyed with confusion.
‘Forget it,’ I say.
I hold the micro SD card between my index finger and thumb and stare at it as if it might provide me with some guidance, some answers.
I’m disappointed, but not surprised, when it does not.
‘So, what we going to do?’
‘We could break into a store,’ I suggest. ‘Steal one.’
‘You’re not serious.’
‘Why not? It’s not like it’ll be our first time breaking the law tonight. We broke into here, didn’t we? We’re already criminals.’
‘That’s different.’
‘How is it different?’
‘Because this is your husband’s building, which makes it your building. You can’t be a criminal breaking into your own property because it’s already yours.’
‘Okay,’ I concede, ‘I’ll give you that one.’ I pocket the SD card. ‘What about stealing?’
‘Can’t steal what’s already yours.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ I say.
Someone else says, ‘I’m going to need that back.’
I jump. Turn.
In the space beyond Leo’s office is a man. Handsome. Tall. Unruly blond hair. Matinee idol smile.
Leo.
1:17 a.m.
There’s only one bar in town and Rusty knows every regular who frequents it. They’re all trying their worst to help the owner pay off her mortgage. It has a certain dive-bar charm about it, like perhaps it’s one of those ironic things. A theme bar, maybe. Heidi is a city gal who came upstate after making some money in real estate or something – Rusty can’t quite recall – and started again in the way certain people are apt to do. Kind of like Jem Talhoffer in that respect, only Heidi is far more social, far more a local in every sense. Heidi’s lost the big-city lilt to her voice and dresses like she’s never sipped a Martini in her life.
She’s no fugitive, either.
Heidi is alone tending bar tonight because there’s only one employee and he’s only needed at the weekend when folk might actually have more than a couple of beers. The rest of the week is quiet, with just the regulars to serve, and regulars in this part of the world nurse their drinks like they are newborns. Rusty has seen some sit with the same beer the whole night, until it’s flat and room temperature and it didn’t even start out as a good brew icy cold from the draught.
Rusty has never heard Heidi complain or make attempts to encourage her patrons to drink up, drink faster or simply drink more. Heidi isn’t the sort. She had almost enough to buy the property outright, so the mortgage they’re doing their worst to pay off must be tiny. Besides, Heidi didn’t leave Manhattan for this town in an attempt to strike it rich. She came here for a simpler, quieter life.
There’s a certain bar stool that Rusty thinks of as her own because it’s the only one with all four legs of the same length. The rest of them are all skewed, all of them rock, and a woman of Rusty’s dimensions prefers to have a solid base on which to perch, especially if there are going to be a couple of intoxicating beverages involved.
Tonight, there might be more than a couple.
The sudden need to go to work and pretend not to be stoned has left Rusty tired but wired. She needs a little something to detangle.
‘What happened to you?’ Heidi says as she lays her elbows down on the bar top until they come to rest before Rusty. ‘You look like someone chewed you up and spat you out again because they don’t like the way you taste.’
Rusty grunts.
‘Mom or daughter?’ Heidi enquires.
‘Neither,’ is Rusty’s reply, although it could easily be either or both. ‘But if you want these lips to loosen up then you need to apply some of your special grease.’
Heidi salutes. ‘Yes, ma’am.’
She fixes a gin and tonic, which Rusty watches being prepared and notes there’s about a one-to-one ratio in the highball Heidi sets before her.
Heidi, elbows back on the bar top, watches as Rusty takes a long sip.
‘Tastes different,’ Rusty says.
‘Thought you could use a strong one.’
Rusty peers into her glass for answers. ‘No, not that. Something else isn’t the same.’
Heidi shrugs. ‘When you discover the secret of perfect consistency, in gin or life in general, you let me know. Until then be grateful for what you’re given.’
Rusty sips again. ‘Oh, I’m grateful.’
‘Don’t keep me in suspense.’
Rusty makes a pistol with her fingers and says, ‘Pew, pew.’
Heidi’s big green eyes sparkle. ‘You’re kidding me.’
‘Wish I was. But no, I’ve got a corpse to deal with. Only just this minute left the crime scene.’
‘What happened?’
Rusty could stare into Heidi’s eyes all night long. ‘You’ll appreciate if I can’t go into specifics.’
>
Quick, Heidi says, ‘Sure. Juicy generalities will suffice.’
‘But what I can say is that the suspect is a resident of this fair town and they’re currently on the loose.’
‘Shouldn’t you be out searching for them?’
Rusty frowns. ‘I’m a police chief, not a bloodhound.’
Heidi apologises with raised palms. ‘I’m guessing this is not an armed-and-dangerous-and-on-the-run situation.’ She ducks comically low, as if the fugitive is about to storm into the bar and start blasting.
‘Not even close,’ Rusty says. ‘I fully expect this to be taken off my hands come morning. Hence’ – she gestures to the gin – ‘I can afford to take my foot off the gas at this juncture.’
‘What if it’s left up to you to resolve?’
‘Excellent question,’ Rusty says, thinking that every officer on duty is out there looking for Jem, for Carlson, and no one’s caught a whiff of either. Then there’s Wilks, who, after much protestation, dragged herself off to a hospital to get her head checked out.
Rusty exhales.
She says, ‘Between you and me I’m not all that sure. I don’t like to admit it but I’m fairly certain I’m way out of my depth right now and I can’t even swim.’
Heidi isn’t having it. ‘That’s the tiredness talking, the stress. You’re the police chief for a reason, Rust. You’re a badass.’
‘I’ve got a bad back, you mean.’
Heidi shrugs. ‘Well, it’s attached to your ass so let’s split the difference.’
‘Deal.’
Rusty smiles. Heidi always cheers her up.
A regular at the far end of the bar gestures for Heidi’s attention and she sidles away to serve him. Rusty cannot hear what they’re saying but there are plenty of smiles passing back and forth. If not for the wide expanse of polished cedar between them it could be a date, such is the flirtation. Genuine chemistry or all part of the service? The regular is a trucker, a big loveable lump with a nice smile. Could be Heidi’s type, couldn’t he? It’s not like she moved upstate and became a nun. She has needs like any other woman.
Rusty has emptied her glass by the time Heidi returns from serving the trucker.
‘Thirsty lady,’ Heidi says.
Rusty nods with her gaze elsewhere.
Heidi is confused by the shutdown in interaction. ‘So,’ she says to end the silence. ‘Did they do it?’
Rusty looks up. ‘Did who do what?’
Heidi’s fingers form a pistol of her own. ‘The pew pew,’ she says. ‘Did the suspect do it?’
‘Way too early for forensics but there’s a witness.’
Heidi’s elbows are back on the bar and her eyes are sparkling again. ‘Intriguing.’
‘Why did you say it like that?’
‘Because you don’t believe the witness,’ Heidi says. ‘It’s written all over that long face of yours.’
‘You mean round face.’
Heidi tuts. ‘Now why do you have to go and put yourself down like that?’
Rusty’s gaze roams the bar. ‘Could be if I do it then it won’t matter so much when others do the same.’
Heidi retrieves Rusty’s empty glass and gives it a shake so the ice cubes rattle. ‘Think I overdid it with this one because you’ve skipped the happy phase and gone straight to the woe-is-me phase.’
‘Nice try but we both know your spirits are half water.’
‘Ouch.’ Heidi reels back, palms on her chest. ‘I take it back. You’ve jumped all the way to the mean phase. What did I ever do to you?’
Rusty makes sure not to look in the trucker’s direction. ‘I’m kidding.’
‘I know.’
‘I know.’
Heidi says, ‘You didn’t answer my question.’
‘You might need to refresh my memory.’
‘I said you don’t believe your witness.’
‘That’s not a question.’
Heidi leans across the bar so she’s inches from Rusty’s face. ‘And that, Madam Police Chief, is not an answer.’
‘If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck … ’
Heidi says, ‘How long are you going to keep teasing me for?’
‘Put it like this,’ Rusty says, resisting the urge to lean closer too. ‘The way this day has played out so far, I don’t believe a single thing anyone has told me.’
Rusty lays cash down on the bar to pay for the drink and to give Heidi a good tip. Rusty always tips her well. Too well, probably, but she has little else to do with her pay cheque.
‘Where you running off to so soon? I’ve got things to tell you as well.’
Rusty doesn’t look back. ‘Sorry, Heidi, but turns out there’s a little bit of bloodhound in me after all.’
1:28 a.m.
I’m so surprised to see Leo that I don’t move. I just stare. I don’t even stand up from the chair. Trevor stays silent. He doesn’t need to be introduced to realise this is Leo standing before us.
My husband says, ‘Aren’t you going to give me a hug?’
I blink.
The surprise fades and I leap from the seat and throw my arms around him. I squeeze him so hard I can feel his ribs compress under the pressure I apply. He feels so warm to the touch, so reassuring, I don’t want to let go. Because while I hold on to him I can ignore the rest of the night, the day. I don’t have to face it.
‘I’m going to need to breathe at some point, you know.’
I release him. ‘What is going on?’
‘No “so good to see you, Leo”? No “I’ve missed you so much, Leo”?’
‘I think your lady wife deserves a few answers,’ Trevor says.
‘And who might you be?’
‘A concerned citizen.’
‘Well, sir, you don’t need to be concerned any longer. Thank you for everything you’ve done for Jem but I’m here now. I’m going to take care of everything.’
Trevor is not so easily reassured.
I say, ‘Leo, please. I’ve been through hell today. I’m relieved to see you and I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m not okay. You can take care of me but not right now. Now, you need to tell me what’s going on. You need to tell me why people tried to kill me.’
‘It’s complicated.’
My eyes moisten as my voice grows louder. ‘No, don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that to me. You know. Maybe you don’t know everything. Maybe you wish you knew more. But you know something. I’ve been told you launder money for a drug cartel, that you wash their dirty money through your books but also that you’re an informant for the FBI and the cartel have found out.’ Leo is silent as I keep going. ‘Which is it? How much of that is true? None of it? All of it? I deserve to know. I need to know. Why did this lead to a dead man in my house? Which of those is the reason I can’t go home?’
Leo looks over my head to Trevor. ‘I can’t talk about this right now.’
I shake my head with vigour. ‘No, you don’t get to do that either. Right now, Trevor is someone I trust more than I trust you because all he’s done today is be kind to me. You don’t get to shut him out. Whatever you tell me I’ll just tell him anyway. He deserves to know what he’s been helping me for.’
‘You’re not leaving me a lot of choice, are you?’ Leo says, but he’s not after an answer. ‘Okay, if you trust him, I suppose I should try to trust him as well. You’re my wife and you deserve to know why you’re in danger, why I’m in danger. Why’ – he points to Trevor – ‘he’s in danger too.’
‘I’m still waiting.’
Leo takes a breath. ‘It’s true.’
‘You’re a money launderer?’
He frowns. ‘That’s really not a very accurate term for what I do.’
‘Are you an informant too?’
He nods.
I exhale. Relieved. I’ve been hanging on to the hope that he wasn’t only a criminal. I knew there had to be more.
‘Is this a new thing?’ I ask, tentative, afraid of the truth. ‘Or ha
ve you always been like this?’
Leo is hesitant. I can see he’s hesitating to tell me the truth because of the effect it will have on me.
‘Oh my God, you’ve been lying to me for our whole marriage, haven’t you? Our entire relationship is a lie.’
‘The only lie is what I do for a living,’ Leo says. ‘Everything else is real. Jem, what we have is real.’
I say nothing. I’m devastated. This is only one half of the puzzle. It doesn’t explain what’s happened today. It doesn’t explain Wilks and Messer. It doesn’t explain Carlson.
‘Why did people come to our house this morning? Why did they try and kill me? They were looking for something, information.’
He nods. ‘Information I’ve been compiling on the cartel. All the transactions I’ve done for them, all the money I’ve cleaned. Amounts. Dates. Account numbers. Offshore companies. Contacts. Everything. I’ve been working my way into the cartel’s confidence for years now. Finally, I’m in a position where I’m trusted with large sums of money and with that comes access to their top lieutenants and I get to see who they’ve been paying off. ’
