The Skin of the Gods

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The Skin of the Gods Page 11

by Phil Armstrong


  It was a familiar drive to Keighley. Beth had completed this journey many times in her young life. The silence was driving her mad but the policeman stuck to his task of navigating through the thickening traffic. Riding in the back of the police car reminded her of Sanjeev, her driver in India. How he used to weave through traffic at high speed using his horn and passing obstacles with only inches to spare. She looked at the uncluttered dashboard and smiled. There was no Lord Ganesha deity positioned on this dashboard. Beth had never ridden in the back of a police car before. It had a strange odor that she could not place. It was not offensive; in some ways it smelled clean and new. She wanted to ask the driver questions but she felt uncomfortable; she decided to remain silent. Beth looked at the traffic trying to remain calm.

  Her mind wandered as she stared out of the window, watching people going about their daily lives. Was she on her way to an answer? Was she minutes away from her life crashing down in total ruins? Would she be told that Matt’s safe and sound? Perhaps Matt met with an unfortunate end? Would they tell her how he died and have they caught the perpetrators? Beth could feel herself sinking deeper into the seat as she played out the gruesome scene in her mind. She shook her head in defiance and told herself to stop it. Beth was expecting the worse and usually you get what you expect. She needed to be more positive, to focus on the outcome she wanted. Perhaps the police were going to inform her that Matt was alive and well. That is what she wanted but it would not explain his sudden disappearance. She just needed some good news, a little glimmer of hope. A thought popped into her mind. “Most of us, swimming against the tides of troubles, the world knows nothing about, need only a bit of praise or encouragement – and we’ll make the goal.”

  “J.P. Fleishman,” Beth said quietly with a wry smile.

  “What,” said the driver looking at her in his rear view mirror?

  “It was nothing. I was just thinking out aloud.”

  Despite Beth wrestling with her own insecurities, the drive to Keighley was uneventful. Beth’s stomach made a small noise drawing attention to the fact that she was hungry.

  The car pulled onto Cavendish Street making a left turn into the police station. The driver parked the car in a small lot adjacent to the police building. He leaned over to retrieve his hat from the passenger’s seat. Beth unfastened her seatbelt as she watched him walk around the car and open her door.

  “Come with me please Miss.” He sounded polite but he seemed annoyed and irritated.

  Beth noticed what a glorious day it was as they entered the police station. The sun was bright, the sky had cleared and the birds seemed to drown out the droning noise of the traffic. Beth had been spending too much time moping around in her cottage to notice how beautiful the weather was after the storm. As they entered into the reception area the policeman nodded to a uniformed lady staffing the front desk.

  “Come with me,” he said tersely. Beth wondered if she was in trouble but followed dutifully. They walked towards a door positioned to the right of the reception area. She followed the policeman through after he punched a code into a panel on the wall. They entered into an area containing three interview rooms. Frosted glass walls separated sparsely decorated rooms. It was a sterile environment with no homely touches. Beth was shown to a room with a large wooden desk positioned in the center. It was worn and scratched badly along its edges. A large flat computer screen was attached to a keyboard and a mouse. It faced away from the door, resting on a swivel base. Power cords snaked their way along the ground towards a power outlet on the far wall. Beth followed the hand signal of the policeman and took a seat.

  “Someone will be with you soon.”

  Beth smiled, finally realizing why the officer seemed annoyed. He was sent to get Beth, but that’s all. He was the transporter, the taxi driver. He clearly resented wasting his time having to drive to Haworth and back. He couldn’t hide his irritation and although he was polite, he was clearly annoyed. A squeaking door caused Beth to crane her neck to see who entered. Beth was surprised to see a petite, slim, uniformed female officer. She wore black pants and a bright blue short-sleeved shirt. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She had a clear complexion and brilliant blue eyes. She held a file folder with papers sticking out from the edge. She sat in one efficient motion and stared into her opened folder.

  “Beth Martindale? Correct?” She extended her hand in a militaristic way.

  “Correct,” said Beth, shaking her hand firmly.

  “My name’s Sergeant Bowman. I’ve been asked to show you a quick video and ask you a few questions about Matt’s, alleged disappearance. Are you okay with that?”

  Beth felt intimidated and really wondered if she should have called Mr. Wilks. “I’m fine. Have you found Matt yet?”

  “All in good time Ms. Martindale. Let’s just watch this first.” Sergeant Bowman typed into the computer screen, clicked the mouse and swiveled the screen around where Beth could see it. A stationary image of a bank machine vestibule could be seen in the grainy picture. “I want you to watch this carefully and tell me if you recognize this to be Matt?” She clicked the mouse and the video started to play. A hooded figure moved through the door and approached the banking machine. Beth knew it was Matt. His body shape, his walk and his mannerism gave him away instantly. “Alleged disappearance,” was the words she had used. Matt walked across the screen and the grainy video went blank for a second. The angle of the camera had changed. The screen provided a shot from behind the façade of the cash machine. It looked like the camera was facing Matt directly. The video images were of a much better quality. Beth could see the man’s features as he went through the motions of withdrawing the money. She could see his coat unzipped at the chest, like Matt always wore it. Inside his open coat she could see his Rolling Stones tee shirt. He loved that tee shirt and wore it often. It was frayed a little around the collar and she could see this clearly. He wore a black peaked baseball cap with his hood pulled over his head. The video froze as Matt leaned in to retrieve the money. This afforded the clearest shot of his face in an unobstructed way.

  “Is that Matt?” asked Sergeant Bowman; her voice trailed upwards at the end of her query. She pushed a printed snap shot image from the video across the table.

  Beth studied the face carefully. She did not want to answer as she stared hard at his features. Her eyes fell to his neck and the frayed tee shirt collar. She opened her mouth slightly. She could see the faint glisten of a metal chain. She leaned inwards placing her eyes closer to the screen. She moved away from the screen to confirm her suspicions. It was clear, with no mistake. Matt’s face could have been mistaken for someone else. His Grandmother’s crystal pendant, hanging from his neck was unmistakable. “It’s him, I’m sure of that. When was this video taken?”

  “The video was taken last night around 10pm. Beth, you have to understand, he’s not trying to hide. He used his own banking card to make a withdrawal from his own account. As soon as he did that, he popped up on our radar and we pulled the video. The good news is he’s alive but quite honestly we can’t do much more.”

  “Why,” asked Beth looking up from the frozen image displayed on the monitor?

  “He’s a grown man. He hasn’t broken the law. If he decides to wake up one morning and go for a trip to London, he’s allowed to do that. It might be irresponsible of him not to tell his loved ones, but it’s not illegal.” She closed her folder and looked at Beth.

  “He’s in London then?” Beth flicked her eyes upwards towards the plain ceiling.

  “That’s where the cash machine is located, just off Bond Street.” The Sergeant ran her hand over her folder and gazed towards the door avoiding eye contact with Beth.

  Beth’s eyes began to well up with tears; she struggled to regain her composure. “When he gets home I’m going to kill him!” Realizing what she had just said Beth looked at the Sergeant in a state of panic.

  The Sergeant smiled, “I know that’s an expression, I know w
hat you mean. He’s not given a thought to the consequences of his actions. His parents and his fiancée are the ones suffering. I think that’s what you mean right?”

  “Right,” said Beth smiling at the absurdity of her statement.

  “I’m not condoning what he did; at least he didn’t lie to you.”

  “I know, but a lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is still putting on its shoes.”

  “That’s a good one, I might use that one. Which song is that from?”

  “It’s a famous quote.”

  “Oh, who said that?” inquired the Sergeant feeling a little silly.

  “Mark Twain.” Beth paused before asking her question. “Tell me something, why is it that I feel so stupid? He’s the one that’s taken off. He’s making us all look bad for worrying so.”

  “You shouldn’t feel stupid because you care. He’s the one that’s acting up.”

  “Are you sure he’s safe?” asked Beth with doubt in her eyes.

  “Well frankly… no we’re not. In this video he walked in on his own, withdrew money from his account using his card and left on his own. He didn’t seem pressured and nobody seemed to be hovering over him. The CCTV cameras on the street outside tracked him for a little while and nobody met with him outside the bank.”

  Beth rested her head in her hands and rubbed her face in frustration. “What do you think he needs the money for?”

  “We don’t know but his credit card information is being monitored. He didn’t use it for a hotel or for food. I suspect he’s paying cash so that he can’t be traced to his exact location.” The Sergeant leaned in sympathetically. She knew Beth was uncomfortable, mad and irritated. She also knew Matt was either in serious trouble or exceptionally selfish.

  “That makes sense. He’s still in the dog house big time if he ever comes home.” Beth was trying to make light of an embarrassing situation. She felt stupid and could only imagine what Matt’s parents were going through.

  “I’m sorry Ms. Martindale we can’t really do much more; he hasn’t technically committed a crime. You understand?”

  “Yes, thanks for showing me this,” said Beth staring at the frozen image of Matt’s partially hidden face.

  “We can continue to monitor his credit card and we’ll let you know where he uses it. Even that is a courtesy for concerned relatives. I’m sorry, I really do feel for you but it seems he’s being inconsiderate. Unfortunately, that’s not against the law.”

  Beth smiled in a painful way, “I understand and appreciate the help.”

  “Thanks for coming downtown and confirming this sighting for us. We’ll keep you informed. If he contacts you directly can you let us know right away?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks, we would appreciate that. It’s for our records of course.”

  “Of course,” Beth repeated hoping the interview was over.

  “You’re free to go Ms. Martindale, unless you have any more questions?”

  “No thanks. How will I get home?” said Beth picking at the rough skin on her fingers nervously.

  “We’ll be happy to give you a ride back, that’s not a problem. We don’t like people driving when they have this much on their mind. It’s a distraction. I’ll make arrangements for you. Take the printed image with you and call me if it sparks any more information that you think might be helpful. Just follow me please.” The Sergeant pushed back from the desk and walked to the door. As if by instinct, Beth followed in a confused haze. Beth heard the Sergeant arrange for her ride home. She acknowledged the female driver and was in the car before her personal haze lifted. Beth was not totally out of it but she was in a state of mild shock. The red haired driver had not said anything, sensing Beth needed to be with her thoughts. She looked in the mirror and caught Beth’s gaze.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah thanks, I’m sorry I’m not very talkative.”

  “That’s understandable. What number on Sun Street do you live at?”

  “45,” Beth stared at the image of Matt.

  “Okay, well you sit back and relax. I should have you there in no time.”

  “Thanks,” said Beth thinking about Matt. Why would he just take off? Was it the pressure of the wedding? Did he love her anymore? What should she do now he was in London? Beth’s thoughts swirled as she swayed from negative thoughts to positive actions. “I’m going to call Tabitha in London. She’d give me some good advice, some straight talk. Hell I’m going to talk with David Wilks also. With his connections at the Blue Phoenix group, I’m sure he’ll know what to do.” Beth thought through her ideas and devised an action plan. She felt better. The police car stopped outside of 45 Sun Street in Haworth. Beth snapped back to reality as the car’s motion came to an abrupt halt.

  “Is this the place?” asked the red haired officer.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it,” said Beth halfway out of the car.

  The officer replied. It temporarily halted Beth’s hasty exit. It brought a smile to her face. “My pleasure.”

  The smile lingered as she proceeded towards her cottage door. She fumbled through her purse to retrieve her house keys. Beth felt warm as her thoughts turned to crammed roads, honking horns and a white Toyota taxi. Sanjeev would be weaving his way through Kolkata’s traffic, with his posh watch glinting in the strong sun. Opening her door Beth stumbled into her cottage relieved to be home. She had mixed emotions. Should she cry from relief or shout from anger. She felt numb and in no position to adequately respond. She did what English women under pressure have done for generations. She took off her coat and put the kettle on, to brew up a pot of tea. She placed the image of Matt on the kitchen counter.

  Relaxing in her chair she sipped the calming tea. She tried hard to connect with her gut instincts. She had seen Matt withdrawing the money but it still felt unusual for him to take off without a word. “There must be a good reason?” said Beth. Beth had not given up on Matt. She had a strong feeling of foul play. “Matt wouldn’t just take off.” Beth listened to her inner voice. She felt strongly that Matt was in trouble. She needed a way to communicate with him, to find out what was going on. If he were in trouble, he would want to protect her from the fallout. He was the type to try to solve things on his own. How could she reach him? Matt appeared to be in London, on Bond Street. This was the only information that she had.

  The only people she knew in London were David and Tabitha from the Blue Phoenix Group. It was logical for her to reach out to these people and ask for assistance. Beth convinced herself that she was being calm and rational. She leaned to her left and retrieved her mobile phone from her right hip pocket. A few keystrokes later, she was dialing the Blue Phoenix Group.

  “Good afternoon, Blue Phoenix Group how may I direct your call?” was the greeting.

  “David Wilks please,” said Beth as crisply as she could. Her heart was racing and her voice sounded strangely unfamiliar.

  “I’m very sorry, Mr. Wilks is traveling on business. He will not be back in the office for a couple of days. Is there someone else who may help you?”

  “Yes, can I speak with Tabitha Hughes please?”

  “Certainly, I will connect you to Tabitha. Whom may I say is calling?”

  “Beth Martindale.”

  “Certainly Ms. Martindale, please hold.”

  Beth was on hold for a few seconds before she recognized the familiar cheery voice of Tabitha.

  “Hi Beth, it’s good to hear from you. How can I help you?”

  “I’m not sure if you can Tabitha, I need some advice.” Beth relayed the story to Tabitha and described the events of the past few days. Tabitha listened intently and provided support. She told Beth that she would contact David Wilks immediately and get his advice. “There must be something that you guys can do?”

 

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