Slow Burning Lies - A Dark Psychological Thriller

by Ray Kingfisher

  “So how did you know it was this VTA place?”

  “I staked the place out. I saw people going in and out. It’s got double doors – like you get in a high security prison. They obviously go to great lengths to keep the place secret, but they make one mistake.”

  “Which is?”

  “Between the two doors the staff take their badges off as they come out and put them on as they go in – except for a few in a rush to get home. I saw three people run out and take their badges off as they passed through the alleyway. The badges were the same as the one Rozita was wearing at the conference.”

  “Shit.”

  “I’d put it stronger than that myself, but I’m only the poor bastard who’s having his head messed with.”

  “You don’t know that, Patrick. It could be… well…” She clicked her fingers at him. “Maybe it’s someone you saw in the street weeks ago and you dreamed about her because of that.”

  “What? Are you seriously saying—?”

  “It’s the sort of thing that happens in dreams. You don’t consciously recognize the person but your subconscious knows about them and it comes out in a dream. It makes sense – at least it could. She works in Chicago. It’s possible you’ve seen her. It’s even possible you saw her on a bus and fell in love with her.”

  “Whatever,” Patrick said. “But I know I’m going to find out the truth.”

  “How?”

  35

  “Stop!” the man said.

  “I need to get the phone,” Maggie said, standing up and pointing back to the counter.

  He stood up too and planted his palms on the table between them. “No you don’t.”

  “But that’s twice it’s rung, it might be important.”

  “If it’s important they’ll try your cellphone.”

  She stood square onto him, careful to keep the paring knife hidden. “As if it’s any of your business.”

  They stood with their eyes locked. Neither of them spoke or blinked, and the phone eventually rang off.

  “Please,” the man said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t speak to you like that.”

  Maggie checked her watch. “Say, how long is this story going on?”

  “Don’t you want me to finish it?”

  Maggie took a deep breath. “You know, I don’t really blame Patrick for not trusting Beth.”

  The man slowly eased himself back down into his seat, and Maggie did likewise.

  “Listen. Perhaps I should hurry with the story. Let me carry on, please.”

  “Go ahead,” Maggie said. “Tell me what happened next.”

  A grin parted the man’s cracked lips, and he continued.

  36

  “Come on,” Beth said. “How are you going to find out?”

  Patrick reached for the door. “You know something, Beth? I think that’s my business.”

  She stepped across to him, then locked the door and closed the blinds. She stood with her back resting on the door. “You have to tell me,” she said.

  “I bloody well don’t, you know.”

  “Are you going to break into this place?”

  Patrick couldn’t speak for a few seconds, then stuttered a weak denial.

  “Holy shit!” Beth said. “You just can’t do that.”

  Patrick leaned his head and shoulders back a little. “Why not?”

  “Because it’s illegal. You might have strange laws back in Britain, but over here breaking into buildings is illegal – very.”

  “It’s not something I’m just doing for fun. I’ve been thinking about it all night. I can’t see any other way, Beth. I need to find out what’s going on.”

  “I hope you realize it’s more than just an hour on the naughty step if you get caught – which you will.”

  “We’ll see about that. And it’s not like I’m doing this for personal gain or anything. I’m not robbing the place – I’m just trying to find out what goes on in there, and especially what Rozita – what Jennifer – gets up to in there.”

  “So, what if you’re wrong about her and it turns out she’s just a sales representative?”

  “I won’t be wrong. There’s more to her than that, and I need to know how much more.”

  “But you say this place is high security. What makes you think you’ll be able to just stroll in there?”

  “Oh, it’s definitely secure,” Patrick said. “Not nuclear weapons secure, but not a normal office either. Doesn’t that make you even more suspicious?”

  “I’m not the one who’s suspicious in the first place.” Beth sat down next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was another gesture that showed a new, more sympathetic side to her nature – or appeared to. “Please, Patrick. Could you just leave it? I can make enquiries about this company. I might know people. I could get answers without all this James Bond stuff.”

  Patrick smiled at her then gave his head a solid shake.

  “But I’m not involved in your situation,” she said. “I can see it from the outside, impartially. And I really don’t think breaking into VTA is a good idea.”

  Patrick gave her a sideways glance, saw her eyes now looking bigger and even slightly sexy from this angle.

  “You know you’ll kiss goodbye to your job?” she said.

  He nodded. “Thanks for the concern, for at least trying to look after me – and thanks for being a sounding post too, but I’ve got to do this – I am doing this. I need to know. You can’t possibly understand what it means to me.”

  “Okay. If that’s your final word.”

  “It is.”

  “In which case I’m coming with you.”

  Patrick drew back and his jaw dropped a little. “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Why would you want to do a stupid thing like that?”

  “To look after you – or at least try to. To be your sounding post.”

  “But… you can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “You just can’t. You said it yourself, Beth. It’s not just an hour on the naughty step if you get caught.”

  “I know.”

  “No, I’m doing this on my own. Both of our jobs are on the line here, but you’ve got a senior position, a good job. You’re not just some lowly workhorse programmer like me.”

  “I’m coming with you, Patrick, whether you like it or not.”

  “And if I go without you?”

  “I could warn them you’re planning to break in.”

  “You wouldn’t.” He narrowed his eyes to slits and leaned in close to her. “Would you?”

  Beth narrowed her eyes too.

  Was she being serious or simply mocking him?

  “You wouldn’t want to find out,” she said. “Would you?”

  Patrick let his face relax and let out a long sigh. “You…”

  “Bitch? Yes, I know. And I don’t give a shit. Now, tell me how we’re going to do it.”

  “I will, but over lunch.”

  “Why not now?”

  “Because if you’re coming with me it’s got to be a different plan. I need time to think.”

  “So, come on,” Beth said as she and Patrick sat down in a quiet corner of a restaurant early that afternoon. “Shoot.”

  “We get into their offices,” Patrick said, ripping a chunk of pizza off the quarter held in his hand, “then hack into the system and have a root around.”

  “How?”

  “With an account and password.”

  “No. I mean, how do we get into their offices?”

  “Well, I was going to get through security posing as a service engineer – saying there were reports of fire alarms failing and I’d been called out on emergency.”

  “And now?”

  “And now I don’t need to do that. You can let me in.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you can be Jennifer Lane.”

  “Can I?”

  “And you can sign me in as a visitor. Say I’m with you.”
r />   “Except I’d need a security pass for that,” Beth said.

  “I’ll make one up that says Jennifer Lane – just like a VTA one. I’ve seen the logo and the typeface. All we need is a barcode on the back for swiping through the detector. That’s all they use, there’s no retina detectors or thumbprints, nothing too clever.”

  “Hey, hey,” Beth said shaking her head. “Wait up. How do we get a barcode that works?”

  “We don’t.”

  “No?”

  Patrick wiped his fingers clean on a napkin and took out his OrSum security card. He turned it over and pointed to the barcode. “Ever had this fail on you?”

  “Once or twice.”

  “And what did you do to get into work that day?”

  “I intercommed security and explained everything.”

  “And?”

  An admiring smile grew across Beth’s mouth. “And they just let me walk right on in.” She started nodding slowly. “Very good. That could work. But what if someone at security knows Jennifer Lane and sees I’m not her? Or even if they know she’s already in the building?”

  “We’re knackered.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The plan fails and we run.”

  “Oh.”

  “But it’s worth the gamble. Do you know what staff turnover’s like at security firms?”

  “Okay, smarty-pants. So, you mentioned an account and password. You’ve got that?”

  Patrick shook his head. “That’s another plan. Let’s concentrate on getting inside first.”

  “Okay. So when do you propose we carry out this dual career suicide attempt?”

  Patrick poured the last of his milkshake into his mouth, gulping loudly, then dragged the napkin across his mouth. “You weren’t thinking of working late tonight, were you?”

  “Tonight?” Beth stared at him for a second then her face cracked into laughter. “You want to know something?” she said. “You’re the craziest guy I’ve ever met.”

  “That,” Patrick said, “I can believe.”

  In the commercial district of Chicago anyone would have thought the sun had already set. But that was only due to shadows of the monumental towers that dominated the skyline, and although it felt too dark and cold to be late afternoon, people still went about their late afternoon business.

  Down an alleyway, Patrick and Beth stood outside an inconspicuous looking glass door next to a swipe machine.

  “You know there’s no going back?” Beth said.

  “Just swipe the pass card -- to register that you’ve tried.”

  She did – three times – each swipe sounding a short beep and making the tiny light above it blink red. Then she pressed the button below the nearby speaker grille.

  The buzz from the intercom forced Patrick and Beth to pass each other a grim glance. This was it.

  “Excuse me,” Beth said. “It’s Jen Lane. My card won’t work. Could you let me in please?”

  “’Jen’?” Patrick hissed. “What’s with the ‘Jen’?”

  “If I was a Jennifer I’d call myself Jen.”

  Patrick closed his eyes and shook his head.

  The intercom crackled back into life. “Okay, Jen. Come on through.”

  “Gotta make it sound authentic,” Beth said. There was a loud click as the door lock released and she pushed the handle. “Hey, c’mon,” she said to Patrick.

  As soon as they entered and shut the outer door the inner one clicked and they entered the main lobby.

  “You got the sign-in book?” Beth asked confidently.

  One of the two men behind the desk pointed to a ledger, and Patrick did the necessary.

  “Say, where do you guys buy these goddam things from?” Beth said flashing her pass card to the other man. “Goddam barcode thing’s worn off in weeks.”

  Beth and Patrick started to walk away down the main corridor. “Hold on,” the other security man said.

  Patrick held his head low as he and Beth turned.

  “What is it?” Beth said.

  The man beckoned her over and held a hand out towards her pass card. She paused, then handed it to him.

  He took a moment to examine it and said, “Looks like you’ve been scrubbing it with sandpaper.”

  Patrick coughed.

  “We need to get on,” Beth said a little more softly.

  “You ain’t goin’ anywhere with that,” the man said.

  Patrick felt that dryness in his throat again, and thought perhaps he’d have a go at being assertive himself. He cleared his throat to speak, but the security man got there first.

  “Here,” he said reaching under the table. “This is an emergency card. It’ll get you into the basic areas.” He handed Beth another card.

  She thanked him and turned away.

  “All yours now, buddy,” she said to Patrick out of the corner of her mouth, as they passed along a bare white corridor. “What now?”

  “We find a loo,” he said.

  “A john?”

  Patrick nodded. “Well, two. One of each.”

  After a few minutes of walking, they came to a stairwell.

  “Women’s must be upstairs,” Patrick said, pointing to the door with a stick figure on it. “Here, take this.” He opened his briefcase, pulled out a piece of folded up material, and handed it to her. “It’s an overall,” he said.

  “It’s not really my colour,” Beth said.

  Patrick flashed the briefest of grins he could manage and said, “See you here in two minutes. We might not have much time.”

  Ten minutes later the two would-be service engineers had reached the top floor corridor, a no-nonsense straight run with individual offices either side. Patrick stopped outside one, paused, and nodded to himself.

  “Whatever you’ve got in mind, wouldn’t an empty office be better?” Beth said as they stood in the corridor looking through the glass at the middle-aged woman hunched over her PC.

  “This is fine,” Patrick said. “The top floor’s usually the upper management with highest access rights, so we just need her account details.” He checked the name on the door. “Yes, Mrs Hill will do nicely.”

  “Okay.”

  Patrick pointed upwards. “And it’s got a false ceiling.”

  Beth looked up to the matrix of stained polystyrene tiles. “How interesting.”

  Patrick knocked on the door and gently opened it. “Excuse me, Mrs Hill?”

  A stern pair of eyes glared back over half-frame glasses, and Patrick felt a pang of unease. She said nothing, which made the pang grow.

  “Is this the office that reported the fault with the smoke alarm?” he said, realising it came out a little half-heartedly.

  The woman took off her glasses and looked straight ahead at Patrick. “Not that I know of.” She turned her attentions to Beth, looking her up and down.

  Patrick looked across to Beth too. Make-up atop an engineer’s overall didn’t look right. He stepped in front of her.

  “I’m afraid we’ll need to check it out anyway,” he said. “We can’t just leave malfunctioning fire alarms.”

  “Of course not,” the woman said. “Do I need to leave?”

  “No. But we might ask you to check some of the light switches in the other offices, if that’s okay.”

  “Light switches?”

  “They’re on the same circuit. Don’t worry, we’ll let you know.” He turned and left, nodding for Beth to follow.

  He strode up the corridor, trying all of the doors of unoccupied offices until he found one that was unlocked. He beckoned Beth to go in with him and said, “Here, put a chair on that desk.”

  “What?” Beth said.

  “Just do it.”

  Beth did it.

  “Now let’s get up there.”

  “What for?”

  “To get into the ceiling void above those tiles. You’ll find a small flashlight in your left pocket. I’ll follow you in a minute.”

  Beth looked at the chair, then Pa
trick, before stepping up on to the table, then the chair, and gently pushing up on the ceiling tile above.

  Patrick left and popped his head into Mrs Hill’s office. “Would it be possible to do that testing now please?”

  “Of course.” The woman tapped in the shortcut key to lock her PC, and a screensaver of exotic birds flitting back and forth appeared on it. Patrick suppressed a sly smile.

  “If you could wait at the far end of the corridor by the light switch please, and put the lights on when I tell you to.”

  The woman nodded and strolled out to take up position, while Patrick went into the office with the chair on the desk and was soon with Beth crawling along the ceiling space.

  It was an eerily quiet, almost two-dimensional space that covered the whole floor, with a mass of wires, air ducts, and metal struts reaching down to the square frames that held the polystyrene tiles in place. The darkness was only broken by the occasional golden shaft of light from badly fitting tiles and the pair’s two flashlights.

  “What the fuck are we doing up here?” Beth whispered.

  “Could you switch the lights on now, Mrs Hill?” Patrick shouted downwards.

  There was a click.

  “Just hold on please,” Patrick shouted down. Then he crawled along the suspension frame, being careful not to put any weight on the polystyrene tiles, his flashlight flickering in all directions like something from a late night rock concert. He lifted a tile and glanced underneath it before replacing it and moving further on.

  “Ah-hah!” he whispered after doing this three times.

  “What is it?” Beth said.

  “You’ll see.” Patrick took a thin safety knife from his pocket, then shouted down, “Could you switch the lights back off please, Mrs Hill.”

  As the dull click came from below Patrick started cutting a tiny hole in the tile.

  “Is it working now?” Mrs Hill said.

  “Be just another minute,” Patrick said between squeaks of blade on polystyrene. He took out the smallest of palmcorders from his pocket, twisted the lens into the hole he’d just made, and hit the record button. He held down the zoom button for a few seconds, then after checking the aim and focus were both on Mrs Hill’s keyboard directly below, he carefully retreated to Beth.