by Matt Hilton
There was some condensation on the inside of its windows, but unless Smelly was lying down across the seats, I could tell he was out of the SUV. I moved in, got within spitting distance of the parked vehicle, and made out a fresh set of boot prints in the mud. They led across the road and into the stand of trees on that side. I crossed, placing my feet in the same tracks, and then concealed myself among the trees. I couldn’t see Smelly, but decided that he’d have moved towards the farm, not away. I’d progressed barely a hundred yards when I caught a glimpse of red. The young man was squatting on the hillside, using a fallen tree for cover as he surveyed the farm below through a pair of binoculars. He was so intent on watching Billie, or indeed for anyone else turning up at the farm, he had no idea he was being observed in turn. If I’d wanted to I could have walked up, put my gun to his head and that would have been that.
But the hopeless sap didn’t deserve to die. All he was guilty of up until now was keeping an eye on Billie, and being pretty useless at his job. I squatted down, kept him under observation, waited to see how things would play out.
My wait didn’t last. Within a quarter-hour I heard the growl of a car engine making its way up the trail. A sticky brake squeaked as the car came to a halt, then it was followed by silence as the engine was turned off. A dull thud announced the closing of a door. Only one person had come out to the observation point, and I guessed that it was the suited man. He cursed and grumbled as he negotiated the muddy trail, and I pinpointed him by his voice as he picked his way through the forest. He’d donned a raincoat over his suit, but hadn’t had the sense to change to more appropriate footwear. His shoes would be ruined.
Thinking they were out of sight, out of earshot, and therefore beyond notice, the newcomer called out for his friend. ‘Adam, where are you?’
A short whistle hailed him, and there was a flash of red as Smelly beckoned him over to his hiding spot. Their ineptitude was magnificent.
‘What kept you, Noah?’ Smelly – or Adam as I’d heard him called – said to his friend. I wondered if they were using codenames derived from Genesis in the Bible. Earlier he’d mentioned the name Kirk, so probably not. The suited man’s full name was probably Noah Kirk.
‘I took another look at the gallery. There was only that hot girl there, but I wanted to check that Billie wasn’t leading us away while Womack snuck inside.’
‘I take it he wasn’t there?’
‘If he was, I wouldn’t have wasted my time hiking out here in all this crap.’ Noah took a desultory look down at his shoes, and wasn’t particularly pleased at what he found. ‘I’d have grabbed him there.’
Noah’s words confirmed everything I’d surmised. They were watching Billie in the hope that she’d lead them to Richard. I’d been hoping to learn more. All right, Noah had just confirmed that they intended grabbing Richard, but what were their intentions after that? My priority was to keep Billie safe from harm, but I had to assume that once they had her husband in the bag, they’d come back for Billie.
I stood and walked towards them. Noah had crouched alongside Adam, peering over the fallen tree at Billie’s farm. Neither man heard me coming until I was within touching distance of them. Then they both scrambled up and stood eyeing me like startled deer. Noah was first to get over my sudden appearance. He straightened, and discreetly fed a hand into his raincoat, drawing it aside. I couldn’t see a gun, but his body language told me that there was a firearm just out of reach under his coat. I kept my gun hidden too.
‘What are you fellas up to?’ I played dumb.
‘You’re the guy from the gallery!’ Adam said, catching a confused glance from Noah. To his friend, he said, ‘This guy was in Billie’s shop earlier. I saw him. He looked like a shopper, but I thought there was something suspicious about him.’
I gave them a steady look, before aiming my gaze past them at the farm in the distance. ‘You think that I was acting suspicious? Well, you don’t look like a pair of birdwatchers to me. If I’m not mistaken I’d swear you were spying on the woman who lives down there.’
‘Well you’re not mistaken,’ Noah said. Adam, by contrast, stayed silent. I could see from the way he shifted his weight, glanced around, that he was perturbed by my sudden appearance and trying to understand what it meant. Some of the colour had drained from his features, and he was licking his lips, while his gaze skipped from me to the cars out on the road. Signs that he was ready to run or attack, dependent on my next move. Noah nudged the younger man, a warning to hold still. ‘But what we are up to is no concern of yours, fella,’ he went on. ‘So I suggest you just walk away and forget all about seeing us.’
‘No can do,’ I said.
My phrase elicited a frown from Noah. It probably wasn’t a common idiom around there.
‘Look, pal,’ Noah said, and he took a step forward and threw back his coat and suit jacket to show the gun holstered on his hip. ‘You’re pushing your nose into business you want no part of. Walk away and forget about us. Got it?’
Bolstered by Noah’s bravado, Adam stopped licking his lips and took a step alongside his pal, presenting a united front. ‘Go on. Get out of here, or we’ll make you.’
Maybe if I were a six feet-five man-mountain with an ominous line in quips their challenge wouldn’t have been as open, but being an average-sized guy, with no ready answer, they thought me easy fodder for intimidation. I was tempted to bring out my gun, but Noah might draw his weapon and I’d have to kill them. I’d learn few answers if they were dead.
‘Let’s not be too hasty here, guys,’ I said. ‘We’re on the same side aren’t we?’
My comment earned a squint from Noah. Adam licked his lips again.
I feigned incompetent, to get them on side. I leaned in, playing conspiratorial. ‘You are here from Procrylon, right?’
Noah’s pause was a tad too long. ‘Procrylon? I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Oh, come off it,’ I said, giving him a grin. ‘You’re Noah, right? And you’re Adam?’ I gave Smelly a nod. ‘I was told to hook up with you in town, to help out with the surveillance, but, well, I have to admit that I didn’t spot you at first. I took a look in at the woman’s shop to see if I could eyeball you, but I must admit you were too good for me. I followed Billie back here, and only by chance spotted you turning in here at the forest trail.’ I directed my last at Noah. ‘I took a chance that I’d find you up here. It’s a good vantage point for watching the farm.’
My cover story was paper-thin, but it didn’t matter. Neither man had admitted being Procrylon’s hired guns, but they didn’t have to. Noah’s denial was written all over his face.
‘I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,’ he tried again.
‘Look,’ I said, ‘I know this is probably a bit unconventional, me appearing like this, but our employer wanted a few extra guys on the ground. Sounds to me like they don’t trust you to do the job.’
Motherfuckers, Adam mouthed.
Noah gave him a nudge, but his warning was as subtle as a building brick to the side of the head. Noah squared up to me once more. ‘Look, mister, I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about, but I’m going to say it one last time. I don’t know who Procrylon are.’
‘You don’t have to be secretive with me.’ I stepped forward, offering my hand. ‘I’m Samson. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?’
Noah’s hand edged towards his gun a fraction more.
I halted, but it was to throw my hands up in feigned regret. ‘Look, OK, maybe I made a mistake here. Maybe I shouldn’t have introduced myself the way I did, and it’s right that you’re suspicious. I should’ve had Procrylon contact you and tell you to expect me. Look, if you want, I can call them now and they can confirm . . .’
Noah shook his head. ‘Keep your hands where I can see them.’
‘Fair enough, you call them then. Or have your buddy do it.’ I directed my gaze at Adam. ‘Do you have a cell phone?’
‘No,’
he lied.
Noah said, ‘Look, mister . . .’
‘Samson,’ I reminded him. ‘I’m Samson.’
‘Yeah, right, so you said. But I haven’t heard of no “Samson”.’
‘Before this morning I hadn’t heard of you either. In fact, I’m guessing your names are codes, right? What is it with those assholes at Procrylon and their Biblical references?’ I was still pushing for an admission, and knew I was stepping over the line with the act. But I could also see that I was beginning to disarm Adam with my insistence. He looked at Noah and said, ‘Maybe you should call this in. Just in case.’
‘You need the number, Noah?’ I said.
‘I’ve got a number,’ he said, and he offered a sly grin as he pulled out his sidearm. ‘But I’m not calling it in. I already spoke to my boss today and nobody mentioned anything about you joining us. In fact, when I asked for a few extra hands they said they had nobody else in the area yet.’
I’d been caught in a lie, but I didn’t care. His words were the confirmation I’d been waiting for. Noah and Adam were there on Procrylon’s behalf, and that made them a threat to Billie.
Noah lifted his gun and aimed it at my chest. It was a Smith & Wesson six-shot revolver. He was only four feet away. From that range his .45 round would put a nice big hole through me.
‘Aah, shit, man,’ I said, putting up my hands. ‘You got me.’
‘Yeah,’ said Noah, grinning wider. ‘I don’t know what kind of idiot you took me for.’
‘Y’know,’ I said affably. ‘Just the regular shit-for-brains-type of hired guns who get lumbered with the scut work before the real professionals arrive.’
Noah didn’t know if he should be offended or not. My insult made him pause fractionally while he thought of an appropriate comeback.
While he was still thinking, I moved.
My left palm slapped his elbow; my right swept under and cupped his gun hand. I extended his arm upwards and to the right of my head, safely out of the way. The web of my thumb forced against the hammer so that he couldn’t cock the gun, even as I twisted the barrel down and away. His trigger finger caught in the guard as I yanked the gun out of his hand, and I heard the click of the dislocating digit.
Noah let out a wild shriek of pain, but it didn’t last long. I rapped him against the temple with the butt of his own gun, knocking him cold. He fell to the forest mulch and lay there motionless, while I turned the revolver in my hand and pointed it at Adam’s incredulous face.
‘Hmmm,’ I said. ‘All those lies and they didn’t work for any of us, did they? Time to begin telling the truth, Adam.’
10
‘I swear to God, mister, we don’t mean Billie Womack any harm.’
Adam was sitting on the fallen tree, his hands wedged under his backside, on a promise that if he moved them I’d put a bullet through his knee before he had a chance to stand. He believed me. His eyes protruded from their sockets as he glanced at his fallen companion, then at my gun, then back to Noah again. His pal was rasping softly as he slept. I pushed him with a foot, but he didn’t wake; instead he rolled on to his side and opened his airway, so it would do.
‘Like I said, I want the truth out of you. You say you don’t mean to harm Billie, so why are you here?’
Adam screwed his face tight. I’m not sure if he was thinking hard or he had an itchy nose that required scratching. I was beginning to feel sorry for the guy, and for Noah. I’d knocked the man unconscious, when really I was beginning to suspect that they were no threat at all. All of that bull he mentioned about Procrylon; he’d been bluffing as much as I was. I tapped my SIG against my thigh. The sound was subtle, but enough to cause Adam to sit upright and concentrate on me.
‘You haven’t a clue who Procrylon are,’ I said.
Adam blinked. ‘I, uh, Noah already told you that. When you mentioned them a minute ago.’
‘He did. But when I suggested calling them, he said he had their number,’ I reminded him.
Shaking his head, Adam said, ‘Noah said he had a number. He didn’t mention this “Procrylon”. Don’t you get it, mister? With no idea who you were he was playing you for information.’
I raised an eyebrow. The old double bluff, eh? Maybe these guys weren’t the bozos I’d first thought. ‘He thought I was really from Procrylon and wanted to find out who they were.’ It wasn’t a question.
‘Sounds right to me,’ Adam said.
‘So why were you pissed when I said they’d sent backup for you?’
‘Pissed?’
‘You called them “motherfuckers” under your breath.’
‘I was referring to my employers,’ Adam said pointedly. ‘I thought they didn’t think we were good enough for the job.’
I didn’t answer. But Adam recognised the inanity of his complaint. He had the good grace to blush.
‘Which brings us to the point: who are your employers? You’re some kind of private eyes, right?’
I could tell he was fishing for a plausible denial, but when all came to all, it would only cause him further problems. He looked at Noah, who was stirring, pondered if he should wait for his pal to fully recover and let Noah do the talking. I tapped him on the shoulder with the gun barrel. ‘C’mon, I haven’t all day.’
‘Can I ask something first?’ he said, showing a bit of backbone.
‘Go ahead. I told you it was time for the truth.’
‘Do you work for Procrylon?’
‘If I did you’d probably both be dead by now,’ I said.
A shadow passed over his face. My words had definitely hit home.
‘We are private investigators,’ he admitted. ‘If you let me show you, we’re licensed and everything.’
‘No need,’ I said. ‘Just tell me why you’re here. I know that you’re waiting for Richard Womack to show up. What’s your interest in a dead man?’
Adam shrugged, no mean feat with his hands wedged under his arse. ‘All we need do is confirm and gather proof for our client that Womack is alive. I swear, mister, that’s all we’re employed to do.’
‘Tell me who your client is.’
‘A guy called Chris Frieden.’
So much for client confidentiality, I thought. But then I wasn’t complaining at his lapse of professional decorum.
‘Tell me about him.’
‘He’s nobody, man. He’s just a broker, an intermediary. He passes us jobs. That’s all. He gets the gigs and subs out to me, Noah, and a couple other guys in the business. He takes a cut off the top line, kind of like our agent, y’know? Everyone’s happy with the arrangement.’
‘So who’s his client?’
‘I don’t know for sure. Some insurance company.’ He nodded over his shoulder in the general direction of Billie’s house. ‘When her husband supposedly died, Billie Womack got richer to the tune of six figures. If it’s proven that her husband didn’t die, then her claim is nullified.’ Looking suitably ashamed of himself, Adam added, ‘We are on a percentage return on this. Whatever the insurance company manages to claw back, we get ten per cent.’
I sighed. Not so much at the immorality of their agreement with the insurance company, but at the realisation that we worked in a similar field. But I guess that’s the lot of the modern gumshoe: in this tough climate you had to take what jobs you could, however it grated against your sensibilities.
‘You must be pretty certain that Richard Womack is alive. If he’s dead, where’s your payment then?’
‘We get a retainer fee, and our expenses are covered.’ Adam glanced once at Noah – checking he was still in dreamland – then said conspiratorially, ‘To be honest, mister, it gets us out of the city for a while. I’m happy to do a bit of hiking and camping at someone else’s expense. I like it out here in the hills; it’s kinda like a working vacation for me.’
I checked out his clothing. ‘You get those duds on expenses?’
He looked down at his North Face coat and Timberland boots. He didn’t have to reply.
‘Noah should have decked himself out at the same outfitters,’ I said, and Adam chuckled at the idea. Not only were Noah’s leather shoes ruined, but now his raincoat and suit were equally muddy. Maybe Noah sensed he was the subject of our humour, because with a drawn-out groan he stirred, before starting wildly and sitting up. His face was level with the barrel of my gun. His eyes almost crossed, focusing on what he believed was the weapon of his imminent execution. He uttered another moan and reared away.
‘Take it easy, pal,’ I told him. ‘It sounds as if we all got off on the wrong foot.’
‘You going to kill me?’ His head snapped back and forth. ‘Where’s Adam?’
‘Right there.’
Noah followed my gesture and was relieved to see his friend safe from harm. He looked back at me. ‘You knocked me out, you son of a bitch.’
‘I did. The alternative was that I shoot you. Think I made the wrong decision?’
He was still sitting in the dirt. More mud had adhered to his clothing. His hands were brown with muck and leaf mulch, but it didn’t matter because he touched his head, seeking the source of the pain. He let out a cry and looked goggle-eyed at his extended index finger. It stood off at a right angle. ‘Holy Christ! Look what you did to me!’
‘You did it to yourself by pulling a gun on me,’ I pointed out.
‘Hell, it’s broken!’
I studied the unnatural shape of his finger. ‘Hold out your hand,’ I told him.
Noah stuffed his damaged hand under his opposite armpit. ‘No way.’
‘Look, pal. If I intended hurting you, I’d be hurting you. Understand? Now hold out your hand, I haven’t all day.’ I offered my left palm, beckoning him to comply.
‘Do it,’ Adam cajoled his friend. ‘This guy really ain’t all that bad.’
