by Alex Barclay
‘Oh, Jesus,’ she said.
Beyond Billy, reflected in the giant mirror he had promised her, she could see the blown-apart body of Peter Everett…and his blood, soaking into her hair and dripping down her bare shoulder.
52
Ren sat on Billy’s bed, looking tiny, dressed in his sweatpants and hoodie. She had taken a shower and tied her wet hair in a knot in the back. Her face was gray.
Billy crouched in front of her, holding her hands. ‘Well, have you made a decision, yet?’
‘Peter Everett is lying dead in a house rented by Billy Waites, a man who has been linked to many crimes, and who is linked to Special Agent Ren Bryce…who is linked to Dr Helen Wheeler. Who is dead. Who is linked to Peter Everett who is dead. Who is linked to Ren Bryce. Who, let’s face it, is dead.’
She laid back on the bed. ‘I feel like I’m in one of those movies where someone runs through all the back gardens and takes all the washing lines with them.’
Billy got up and sat on the bed beside her. ‘So…are you going to call work?’
‘Yeah, I’ll call in sick.’
He smiled.
‘I am being attacked,’ said Ren. ‘And I have no idea why. What do we do about this – do we walk away from this crime scene, shut the doors and hope none of the neighbors get the smell? And when they do, then what? I can’t ever have been here. I have no reason to be here. You and I have zero working relationship.’
‘Here’s some good news,’ said Billy. ‘This house is not registered in my name. No one can connect me to here. Not right away, anyhow.’
Ren glanced around the room. ‘But…your stuff.’
‘My stuff is that,’ said Billy, pointing to a half-open sports bag in the corner. ‘Remember?’
‘You live like someone on the run.’
‘At least I can admit it.’
‘Whoa,’ said Ren. ‘Where did that come from?’ She stood up and walked over to the window.
‘Where broken-hearted Billy lives.’
Ren turned back to him. ‘Stop. I hate that.’
‘I’m trying to keep it light.’
‘Everett hadn’t been here long, this was all recent,’ said Ren.
‘And he was killed here.’
‘So say your lovely blood-spattered walls.’
‘What do we do?’ said Billy.
Ren let out a slow breath. She watched the falling snow and the white lights sparkling across the city. And then she noticed red lights. And blue lights. And they were flashing. And there was a siren to go along with them. And they were coming towards the house.
Ren turned to Billy. ‘We get the hell out of here.’
The narrow lane that ran behind the houses had barely been cleared of snow. Ren was a strong, fast runner, but she was barefoot on rough, icy ground and being hauled along by someone bigger and taller than her with strides twice the length of hers. She stumbled, and he whipped her arm up in the air like a child’s to keep her from falling.
‘Jesus Christ, Billy. Slow down. Please.’ Ren stopped and pulled up the track pants with one hand. ‘These are huge on me.’
‘Ren, I don’t care if you’re half-naked. We have to run. As soon as they find that body in there, they’ll be spreading out like flies. Why am I even telling you this? Someone has obviously sent them this way. And for now, we don’t know if it’s the person who killed Everett or a neighbor who heard it, so we don’t know if the police already have you and me on their radar. And we sure as hell can’t stick around to find out. Let’s hope it was a neighbor.’
They started up again.
‘At least we don’t have to run through gardens and washing lines,’ said Billy.
Forty-five minutes later, Billy was carrying Ren on his back across the rough, glass-strewn grounds of an apartment complex in Five Points.
‘Where are we going?’ said Ren, stopping, catching her breath.
‘We are going to pay a visit to my friend, Stray Eddie.’
‘I’m guessing he was not christened Stray.’
‘No, nor was he blessed at birth with the gift of a good aim or a steady hand.’
‘You have to be kidding me,’ said Ren. ‘I am going to the home of a guy who has a known reputation for shooting people.’
‘Yeah, but he misses…’
‘You can’t tell him what I do.’
Billy glanced over his shoulder at her. ‘No shit. I’d say it would be the first time he might hit his target.’
‘What are you going to tell him?’
‘The truth, the partial truth and nothing but the partial truth. We’re fleeing the po-pos. You’re my bitch. That’s all he needs to know. He’ll let us hang out. And he has cars. If we need one.’
What has happened to my life?
‘It’s cool,’ said Billy. ‘He’s a good guy.’
‘Sure, maybe missing his targets is his way of high-fiving Jesus…’
Stray Eddie’s apartment looked like what would happen if a nightclub exploded and penetrated the wall of a historic apartment block. Eddie had left the door open, so he could go back and sit on his sofa. Ren could see Billy waiting for her reaction. He had been here before. She looked at him and smiled. The walls and ceilings were made of some strange white glossy resin. Unsynchronized mood lighting pulsed different colors in different rooms. Ren expected to see two hot lesbians wrapped around each other through an open doorway.
‘In here,’ said Eddie, calling them into the living room.
Eddie was tanned and fresh from the shower, with his black hair slicked back. He was dressed in gray Calvin Klein loungewear. Nice. Ren found herself drawn to the last place she should have been. Stray Eddie had been gifted with something at birth.
‘Well, hello there,’ he said.
‘Hello yourself,’ said Ren. She could not tell if he had noticed her stare.
‘This is Ren,’ said Billy.
My real name? Excellent.
Eddie gave a thoughtful nod. ‘I used to date a girl called Ren…not. What the hell kind of name is that?’
‘I don’t know, Stray Eddie.’
‘Ha,’ said Eddie, re-arranging himself. ‘So, what’s up?’ he said to Billy. ‘What do you and your shoeless friend here need? Your feet are bleeding, by the way.’
Ren looked down, then back at the smudges of blood she had left on the floor. ‘I am so sorry,’ she said.
‘If you’re going to shed blood, it’s the right surface for it,’ said Eddie.
‘A fresh body is lying in my house—’ said Billy.
‘Oxymoron dot com,’ said Eddie.
‘Hey, we didn’t kill the guy. Someone is fucking with us.’
‘Riiight,’ said Eddie. ‘But I could still—’
‘No cleaning required. The cops are all over the place,’ said Billy. ‘Here’s what we need: to hang here for a while and to borrow a car. And probably some money.’
‘Hang here, yes,’ said Eddie. ‘Borrow a car? Not so much.’
‘Shit, why?’
‘They’re all out.’
‘They can’t all be out,’ said Billy.
Eddie shrugged. ‘They might be back in a little while, I don’t know.’
‘Well, screw you,’ said Billy. He was smiling.
All of you go screw yourselves. Is anyone taking this seriously?
Billy saw her face. ‘It will all be cool,’ he said.
‘I’d love to know how.’
‘So,’ said Eddie, shifting again in his seat. ‘Looks like the lady here is in deeper shit than you, Mr Waites.’
‘The shit is rising to the exact same point on both our necks,’ said Billy.
53
Ren stood up. ‘Eddie, do you mind if I…is there a quiet room I could use?’
‘For what?’
‘I just need to think.’
‘Sure, sweetheart, go across the hallway.’
She caught him glancing at Billy. What’s with your crazy friend?
Across the h
allway was a bedroom, like a modern hotel bedroom. There were four light settings. Ren chose pink. The bed was perfectly made. Ren was brought back to Domenica flipping out at the maids.
‘Si quieres hacerla en este país cada cosa la tienes que hacer perfectamente. Yo no estaría aquí si no fuera por eso.’ You want to succeed in this country, you do every job to the best of your ability. Look at me! I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for that!
Ren paused – she had made a mistake. Domenica hadn’t said ‘eso’ – I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for that! She had said ‘esto’: ‘if it wasn’t for this’. This, meaning the job of being a maid?
Ren went back across the hall. ‘I need to make some calls. Where can I go?’
‘You need a phone?’ said Eddie.
‘No, no.’ She waved her cell phone at him.
‘I mean a throwaway,’ said Eddie.
Duh. ‘Yes. Thank you. Thank you. What time is it?’
‘Eleven,’ said Billy.
Stray Eddie watched her. ‘I read that Bernie Madoff wore two Rolexes – one with the time in New York, the other for London time.’
‘You don’t miss a trick,’ said Ren.
‘Where are you calling?’ said Eddie. ‘Who are you calling? Will they be in bed? Or will they be having breakfast?’
Ren looked to Billy and back to Eddie. ‘OK, Sherlock,’ said Ren, ‘being that I know you all of a half-hour, I’m going to guess you will not know who I am calling, no matter where in the world they are.’
‘I just like to know things,’ said Eddie. ‘It’s who I am. Any things.’
‘I’ll think of something exciting for when I get back,’ said Ren. ‘Is there a room I can use?’
‘Sure, go straight across the hallway. What’s that one up to?’ said Eddie when she had left.
‘My focus right now,’ said Billy, ‘is getting a car, Eddie. And getting the fuck out of Dodge.’
‘Relax, relax. It’s not under control.’
Billy stared up at the ceiling.
‘But seriously,’ said Eddie, ‘flipping out isn’t going to make this happen any quicker. We’ll chill, watch a movie. No one knows where you are.’ He slapped Billy’s knee. ‘Whoa. Is that a steel plate? My hand.’
Billy followed Ren in out into the hallway. He found her in one of the rooms. She batted him back out with her hand.
Sorry Billy. Sorry. But you really can’t know any of this.
‘Ferris Bueller,’ said Eddie, pointing at the screen when Ren walked back in.
‘Go piss up a flagpole,’ she said.
‘Everyone remembers that line,’ said Eddie. ‘And look – Bueller…Bueller. Are you done talking to Taiwan?’
‘Yes,’ said Ren. ‘They’ve just finished making the remaining square inch of glossy white surfacing to complete your apartment.’
‘Great,’ said Eddie. ‘That’s the bit behind the toilet that’s been bothering me.’ He patted the seat beside him. ‘Sit down, Renaldo.’
Ren sat beside Billy.
‘I don’t think I ordered the Billy sandwich,’ said Eddie.
‘Well, I don’t think Ren ordered a side of Italian,’ said Billy.
Ren directed her gaze toward the television. She saw a flash of their reflections in the screen.
How did we all get here? Three people, lined up on a sofa watching a movie that reminds us of a time when the worst thing you could do was skip school.
The car was driven to the back of Stray Eddie’s apartment complex. It was a limousine with a driver. Ren looked at Billy. Is this for real?
‘It’s cool,’ he said. ‘Eddie’s got drivers with different limo companies…for when people are desperate.’
Ren turned her back on the car. ‘We’re not that desperate,’ said Ren. ‘I’m not dying to get ID’d here. There is no way that some random driver is going to lay eyes on me. So you get him out of that car and into Eddie’s or wherever the hell he wants to go, but I am not sitting in a car being ferried around by a stranger. Is Eddie insane?’
Billy lowered his voice. ‘You’re forgetting Eddie doesn’t know your day job. We are all partners in crime in his eyes. Not partners in crime-fighting.’
‘Just, please do something.’
Twenty minutes later, Billy was at the wheel of the car.
‘OK – what the hell was that all about back there with the secret phone calls?’ said Billy.
‘I’m sorry, Billy, but…will you trust me?’
‘Dammit, Ren. I am right in the middle of all this. I have been as soon as you asked me for my help and now that the shit has really hit the fan, you go sneaking off making phone calls – in my buddy’s house, on my buddy’s phone – and you won’t tell me what’s going on? Does that not strike you as unfair? In any way?’
‘Yes, it does.’
‘And if the tables were turned, there is absolutely no way you would accept that from me.’
True. ‘Of course I would.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Look, there’s nothing else I can do, so can we drop it?’
‘Of course we can. Not a problem. Let’s bury it.’
Ren stared out the window. ‘I need you to drive back to your house.’
Billy stared at her. ‘You have to be shitting me.’
‘No. I need to check something out.’
‘No way,’ said Billy. ‘I am not going near that place. The whole of Denver PD is there.’
‘Hey – keep your eyes on the road. You don’t have to go back to the house,’ said Ren. ‘I just need to check something out. I may have dropped something in the garden out back.’
‘Your sanity,’ said Billy. ‘And the ability to come up with convincing excuses. I’d say you’ll find them both there in the snow. With the cops.’
‘It will be fine,’ said Ren. ‘You just need to drop me three blocks away—’
‘And you’re going to do what?’ said Billy. ‘Walk back to the house?’ He looked down at her feet. They were slipped loosely into a pair of Eddie’s sneakers.
‘At least I won’t leave prints,’ said Ren. ‘Just drag marks. They’ll be looking for a man with two limps.’
‘Why are you doing all this?’
‘Why do you give a shit?’
Billy could barely speak. ‘I’m going to do three things right now. One is to bear in mind that you are under huge pressure here—’
Ren looked at him.
‘The second thing is that you are bipol—’
‘I cannot believe you just said that, you…that is the answer to every—’
‘And the third thing is to ignore that reaction,’ said Billy.
Screw you.
‘I am trying to help,’ said Billy. ‘I…am not sure you are thinking rationally.’
‘Thanks, Billy. Thanks for that.’
‘I’m sorry…but this is unreal. Why have we spent the last few hours holed up in Eddie’s only to come right back to the scene of the crime? It’s insanity.’
‘That’s what it is,’ said Ren. ‘Please, just take me where I need to go.’
‘And then what? Wait for you?’
‘Yes. Wait for me for one hour. And if I don’t show, get the hell back to Stray Eddie’s.’
‘An hour?’ said Billy. ‘But how do you know that’s going to be enough time? And what will you do if it isn’t? Hitch a ride?’ He gave her a kind look. ‘Have you thought any of this through?’
‘Billy, come on. Yes. Of course I have.’
‘Jesus, Ren. Should I be stopping you doing this?’
‘No.’
So Billy did as Ren asked. And two hours later, he forced himself to start up the engine and drive back to Stray Eddie’s alone.
Billy Waites sat across the table from Stray Eddie in a cramped diner on a busy corner on Colfax. It was day time, but felt like night. A strange parade of people walked by the window, drawing Stray Eddie’s gaze more than Billy’s.
‘You OK?�
�� said Eddie.
Billy nodded and called the waitress over for more coffee. He picked up the sugar dispenser and started hitting it with the palm of his hand, trying to dislodge the lumps. Eddie grabbed it from him. He reached over to the next table and handed Billy the dispenser from there.
Eddie turned back to the window and the night-time people dressed in clothes not fit to be seen in winter daylight.
‘Are you banging her?’ said Eddie.
‘Who?’ said Billy, glancing out the window.
‘I’m not talking about some random chick from outside. Miss Ren.’
‘No, Eddie. No.’
‘You want to, though.’
Billy smiled.
‘She looks dirty,’ said Eddie.
‘You say that about every woman.’
‘I don’t notice women who aren’t dirty. Who is she?’ said Eddie.
‘If I could work that out…’
‘Women are fucked up.’ Eddie leaned forward in his seat. ‘Yo, check it out,’ he said, pointing past Billy’s shoulder to the television. Billy turned around. A photo of Peter Everett was in the top right-hand corner of the screen.
‘In a shock update on the disappearance of missing tycoon, Peter Everett, an FBI agent with the Rocky Mountain Safe Streets Task Force was taken into custody this evening following the discovery of the body of a fifty-three-year-old male at a house on Walker Street. The agent, who has not yet been named, was arrested at the scene—’
Eddie stared at Billy. ‘That’s your body, isn’t it?’
‘Shhh.’ Billy held a hand up to silence Eddie.
The rest of the report focused on Peter Everett’s life.
‘That’s your body,’ said Eddie. ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’
Billy’s face was white. He nodded.
‘Did your future wife do that? All that blood on her feet…’
‘That was her own blood,’ said Billy. ‘She’d been running barefoot.’
‘No wonder you were running,’ said Eddie. ‘If there was a dirty Fed in the mix.’
‘Yup,’ said Billy.
‘Or were you and your fiancée in cahoots with the guy?’
‘No.’
