Stone Cold

by Dean Crawford

  ‘Everybody has their limit, sir,’ Maietta said. ‘Maybe Scott’s reached his, and now he’s been trying too damned hard to pin the abduction case on Dale McKenzie. He even pulled out some cold cases and tried to put McKenzie in the frame for ‘em.’

  Olsen’s moustache twitched from side to side.

  ‘I can’t do anything about this, Jane,’ he said finally. ‘It’s circumstantial. The only way you’ll get anything on him is if you…’

  ‘Follow him myself,’ Maietta agreed. ‘That was what I was going to do, but you saw how he went for Stone earlier. He’s on the edge, captain, and if he sniffs me out while I’m tailing him into God–knows–where and he was in a bad enough mood…’

  Maietta let the suggestion hang in the office between them for several long and silent moments.

  ‘You’ve been his partner for three years,’ Olsen said to her. ‘Surely you’ve figured out by now whether he would do something like that?’

  Maietta shook her head.

  ‘If there’s one thing that this job has taught me, sir, it’s that no matter how well you think you know somebody, you don’t know ‘em at all. I read about some psychologist once, who said that all patients lie because there is one thing people fear above all others, one thing that will drive them to unbelievable acts.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘The fear of other people learning what they’re really like,’ Maietta said. ‘Of seeing their innermost thoughts, their most deprived fantasies or most bizarre fetishes.’

  ‘Christ, Maietta,’ Olsen muttered. ‘You’re giving me wood here.’

  ‘It’s your corner,’ Maietta said as she stood.

  ‘You still going to follow him?’

  ‘If I have to, yes. You good to sign off on it, officially?’

  Olsen nodded. ‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t get to carry again on duty even if Stone clears him, but there’s nothing that I can do about it outside of the department, Maietta, you understand? He’s an ex–soldier. He’s bound to have a piece in a drawer somewhere at home.’

  ‘That’s what worries me,’ Maietta said.

  She made for the office door when the captain called after her.

  ‘You know this could all be a scam, right? Maybe Sheila McKenzie’s pulling the wool over all our eyes?’

  Maietta opened the door. ‘Yeah,’ she agreed. ‘Somebody’s definitely screwing with us, and when I find out who I’ll knuckle them myself.’

  ***

  23

  ‘You did what in the middle of a restaurant?!’

  Ally’s voice broke out loudly enough for several people in the café to look up.

  ‘Quietly,’ Kathryn hissed. ‘It’s not like I want this to be on live television.’

  ‘Noooo,’ Abby chided. ‘Of course not. You just want it to be in front of the entire city.’

  The café was only half full, businessmen and women on their lunch breaks at scattered tables, gossiping about colleagues and texting on their cell phones as they did so. Kathryn had never much liked that sort of office feel about lunchtimes in town, as though working for some crummy business that nobody cared about was the central feature of people’s lives. The office affair, whispers over the fax machine or the water–cooler, people being nice to their colleagues with strained smiles and soft voices even though they hated each other with a passion.

  Kind of like living with Stephen, she realised.

  ‘So, come on then, spill it all,’ Ally insisted with a beckoning wave of her hand. ‘Leave no details unspoken.’

  Kathryn related the rest of the previous evening with Stephen at the restaurant, and of how on a final and deeply vicious impulse she had a young girl photograph her together with Stephen. She had then asked the staff at the restaurant to frame the picture for them and place it on the wall until Stephen made good on his proposal.

  Ally listened in stunned silence, not something that Kathryn witnessed very often, before she finally replied.

  ‘I feel certain that I speak for all womankind when I say that you should be knighted, handed an Oscar and awarded the Nobel Prize for Outstanding Bitch.’

  Kathryn nearly choked on a slice of cucumber. ‘He started it, remember?’

  ‘Sure he did,’ Ally agreed, ‘and it’s coming back to bite him in the ass, but I don’t see where you can go from here. There’s not much you can do to top your last performance.’

  Kathryn peered at Ally over a sandwich as she smiled. ‘You sure about that?’

  ‘Oh do tell right this instant or I swear I’ll call the police.’

  ‘That’s blackmail.’

  ‘And last night’s set–up of Stephen wasn’t?’ Ally grinned as she sipped a sparkling drink. ‘I never knew you had it in you, Kathy.’

  ‘Nor did I.’

  ‘You have unleashed the wrath of your inner bitch my friend, and lo has it struck the mighty Stephen down.’ Ally bit into her sandwich. ‘So, what’s next? A public flogging?’

  ‘I’m going to check out the other woman’s house.’

  Ally’s mouthful of sandwich nearly blasted across the restaurant as she fought to control herself. She managed to swallow her food, tears swimming in her eyes. ‘Oh sweet Jesus, I think I might have peed myself. They have a house together? And how are you going to get into their house?’

  Kathryn giggled. ‘Stephen keeps a key in the apartment. He’s such a douchebag, probably thought that I wouldn’t notice it with all the others on his key ring. I had a copy made and will make my way up there when he’s away with work.’

  ‘What about the other woman?’ Ally asked seriously. ‘What if you get seen?’

  ‘I’ll pick my moment,’ Kathryn said, picking at her food with a fork. ‘There’s no real rush.’

  ‘No real rush?’ Ally echoed. ‘Where is all this coming from? One moment you’re the shy and retiring college student, now you’re a psychological terminator with no soul.’

  ‘I’m not that bad.’

  ‘Miss Stone,’ Ally announced, ‘in the history of bad–ass women you are among the baddest and assy–ist I’ve ever encountered. You’re making Boadicea look like Mother Theresa.’

  ‘Boadicea fought for a cause she believed in.’

  ‘So did Mother Theresa,’ Ally agreed. ‘But she didn’t cut men down by the hundred with a giant sword and then put their villages to flame.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Are you sure this admittedly wonderful plan of yours is going to actually work?’

  ‘It is working,’ Kathryn replied. ‘He asked me to marry him.’

  ‘Under duress,’ Ally reminded her. ‘It’s the man you want, right? Not a piece of paper and a shared husband. What good is it if he’s with the both of you?’

  Kathryn thought for a moment. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe I need to get him away from all of this for a bit. The tickets I already bought didn’t go down well.’

  ‘What, a dirty weekend instead?’ Ally smirked. ‘How naughty.’

  ‘Maybe. If I can time it to be as inconvenient as possible for Stephen it’ll put him under more pressure and keep him away from her.’

  ‘And what will you do on this dirty weekend?’ Ally hazarded. ‘Force him to confess? Oooh, you could tie him up and then force him to confess!’

  ‘Ally,’ Kathryn chided. ‘I’m being serious.’

  ‘So am I! You’d be amazed what a man will agree to do when you’re rubbing a cheese grater up and down his…’

  ‘Will you cut it out?!’ Kathryn snapped, and then peered at Ally. ‘Really? A cheese grater?’

  Ally nodded as though it was nothing, but then she leaned in conspiratorially. ‘The big deal was that he actually asked me to do it.’

  ‘The big deal is that you obeyed,’ Kathryn murmured in reply. ‘Although the idea of slicing Stephen’s most valuable asset does have some appeal.’

  Ally smiled, her joviality fading. ‘This isn’t about hurting him, only punishing him and ultimately winning him back, right? You want something left to
play with afterward.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘So, when are you going to quit this charade and spill the beans? You run it too long he’ll figure it out. He’s not an idiot.’

  ‘I’ll come clean in the end,’ Kathryn promised. ‘The question is whether he will first.’

  ‘He could have been with this other woman for a while, I figure, but I doubt they’re married. People don’t generally get hitched overnight.’

  ‘You married a guy in Vegas once,’ Kathryn reminded her friend.

  ‘We were drunk,’ Ally replied, ‘and we were drunk for the next six years too. We only got divorced when we sobered up.’

  The thought of drinking and divorces made Kathryn suddenly think of Griffin. His life was spiralling out of control.

  ‘What?’ Ally was looking at her with a concerned expression.

  ‘Just reminded me of something at work,’ Kathryn said. ‘A client of mine.’

  ‘Do tell,’ Ally said.

  ‘It’s work, client confidentiality and all that.’

  ‘So, you can hint and you can allude, can you not?’

  Oh, I can allude, can I?’ Kathryn mimicked her. ‘You’re so bloody posh, you know.’

  ‘Shpill it Shtone,’ Ally threatened in what sounded like a mock–Chicago accent, ‘or I’ll shing like a canary.’

  Kathryn shrugged. ‘Let’s just say he’s a decorated veteran going through a particularly hard time.’

  ‘Police officer,’ Ally said clairvoyantly.

  ‘How the hell did you know that?’

  ‘I didn’t,’ Ally beamed in delight. ‘But there are no army bases around here, only Air National Guard so I figure he must be retired, you’re a trauma specialist so he’s either suffering from PTSD from his war experiences or he’s had a big trauma while serving on the police force, because that’s where a lot of ex–military end up.’ Ally took a sip of her drink. ‘Close?’

  ‘What, you’re Sherlock now?’

  ‘To your Watson,’ Ally agreed. ‘Go on.’

  ‘There’s nothing to say,’ Kathryn said. ‘He’s suffering, his marriage is breaking down, he’s being watched by his superiors because they’re concerned about his ability to do his job. I’m there to help him.’

  ‘And are you helping him?’

  ‘Not so much,’ Kathryn sighed. ‘Not yet, anyway.’

  ‘That’s the problem with people like you and your policeman friend,’ Ally shrugged.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You’re do–gooders,’ Ally said without a hint of malice. ‘You know, police, soldiers, psychologists or whatever. You’re all brilliant at helping everybody else and useless at sorting yourselves out. Look at you. You’re going through a major crisis of your own and yet you’re sitting here worrying about some cop.’

  ‘I can’t help who I am,’ Kathryn said in defence. ‘Nor can Scott.’

  ‘Scott, is it?’ Ally asked as Kathryn cursed. ‘On first name terms already, are we? Handsome, is he?’

  ‘Cut it out,’ Kathryn said. ‘He’s married.’

  ‘Unhappily, apparently,’ Ally added. ‘And you didn’t answer my question.’

  ‘Yes, he’s handsome. But so is Stephen and look where that’s ended up.’

  Ally briefly inclined her head and then drained her glass.

  ‘You think this Scott will get over whatever it is he needs to get over?’ Ally asked. ‘You think that you will too?’

  Kathryn sighed and stared at her plate. ‘I honestly don’t know. Griffin’s a soldier, somebody used to dealing with stressful situations. I don’t know that I can.’

  Ally looked at Kathryn for a moment longer and then reached out and squeezed her arm.

  ‘Sometimes, you’ve just got to know when to quit,’ she said. ‘We all do. There’s a whole world out there waiting for us, if we’ve got the guts to get out there and find it. Stephen’s already a lost cause, Kathy.’

  ‘I won’t give up until I’m sure,’ Kathryn said.

  Ally released her arm and glanced up out of the restaurant windows. Kathryn turned and saw an airliner climbing out from the airport on the other side of the city, its lights flashing until it was consumed by scattered clouds rolling in from the west on chinook winds.

  ‘You see that?’ Ally asked. ‘It’s like a highway, heading off into the unknown. That airplane is too. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. You’ve got to be willing to take your chances and try again, while you’re still young enough to do it.’

  ‘Like you did?’ Kathryn asked.

  Ally smiled. ‘Exactly like I did. I left an unhappy life in England to come here and start over. I’ve never looked back. Almost everybody dreams of starting over at some point in their lives, with a clean slate, somewhere completely new. But few people have the strength to go and actually do it.’

  Kathryn sighed.

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘But I want this life to work.’

  ‘Fine,’ Ally replied. ‘There’s a place called Hunter’s Lodge, out west of the city on the plains toward Freezeout Lake. It’s a tourist retreat, horse riding, hiking, all that crap. It’s close by, cheap and easy and tickets are easy to come by, especially at this time of year. But make it work fast between the two of you or get out, because this can’t go on much longer, you understand? Make a decision soon about just how much you want Stephen before he figures out what you’re up to.’

  Kathryn sighed and made her decision.

  ‘I’ll check out their house and their life, and what I see will determine what I do next.’

  ***

  24

  It took Kathryn half an hour to drive through the city, most of it spent trying to control the writhing sense of naughtiness squirming in her belly.

  Kathryn was by any woman’s standards appallingly sane. As far as she could remember she had never broken a law, never struck another person and had hardly ever had the need to tell anything more than the whitest of lies. She recognised that this was something that made her interminably boring to many. Most of her friends had lost their virginity before their sixteenth birthday and paraded the fact with some pride, regardless of their supposed religions or their parents’ insistence otherwise. Most were drinkers, many were smokers and quite a few had been familiar faces in the local precinct until they settled down with husbands and families.

  Most shockingly of all, about a third had indulged or were positively up to their necks in extra–marital affairs, at least one of them with another woman. Kathryn had long puzzled over this, as so many of the women she knew seemed otherwise remarkably sane, rational and family–loving individuals whom she might have considered far above such indiscretions. More to the point, some of their husbands were genuinely lovely men whom Kathryn would have been proud to marry. Of course, many others were also slovenly, chauvinistic bastards who spent more time in their local bars than they did raising families, but still…

  Kathryn figured that sometimes people were just not meant to be together, despite being in possession of all the ingredients that supposedly made up the perfect couple. Convention, tradition, family pressure and faith often took precedence over personal happiness, and the entirely human fear of embarrassment and social rejection sustained the suffering over months, years and even decades. Few were strong enough or brave enough to break out and start over, even when their supposed beloved husbands frequently enjoyed battering them after a night on the booze.

  Ally’s advice to give Stephen a wide berth echoed through her mind as she negotiated the dense city traffic, and once again she saw the airliners lifting off and vanishing into the distant darkness. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. Better places, filled with happier people doing happier things with happier spouses and beautiful children in lovely homes with bright, shiny futures. Kathryn knew that the imagery she was creating was in truth filled with the same daily worries about money, jobs, bills and the kid’s futures as any other, but what was the future but a fantasy? What was aspiration w
ithout a dream to follow? Life could be that good, surely? It just boiled down to how badly somebody wanted it and what they were willing to do to achieve it.

  Kathryn gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as she drove toward the suburban district on the opposite side of the city to the airport. The streets and homes became cleaner and quieter than the bustling metropolis, leafy cul–de–sacs and gated mansions with glowing lanterns outside.

  She had prepared herself to find something a little more luxurious than the cramped, damp apartment she shared with Stephen, but as she drove she found herself gaping at the sheer opulence before her. Some of the homes probably had bathrooms bigger than her entire apartment, gardens the size of football pitches, with pools and games rooms and televisions the size of tennis courts sunk into gargantuan walls.

  The GPS beeped and a digital voice told her she had arrived. She drove past the house and turned into a side road, then pulled the Lincoln into the sidewalk and switched off the lights and clattering engine. Kathryn got out of her car and locked it, not for the first time wondering why she bothered locking a car that was barely functional, before strolling back along the road until she reached the house.

  The house was not gated like some of the others, but perfectly manicured lawns stretched up to a broad, grand Colonial style home. Two giant trees flanked the house like ancient guardians. Stone lions sat either side of an ornate flight of steps that led up to a broad, dark oak front door. The place looked like something out of Beverly Hills.

  Kathryn walked up the garden path. She scanned the windows of the house but everything was dark inside. She reached into her handbag and retrieved the key she had copied from Stephen’s collection, and then with her heart beating hard and fast in her chest she pushed the key into the lock and turned it. The lock clicked and the door swung smoothly open to reveal a vast and dark interior of unknowns.

  A dim flashing light blinked on and off as she stepped onto the expensively tiled foyer, and she turned to see a touchpad set into the wall. The alarm system. Kathryn stepped across to it and touched a series of keys, memorised from a file in Stephen’s laptop that she had surreptitiously accessed some nights before as he showered. The alarm beeped softly once and the flashing light vanished. She smiled to herself, turned and gently pushed the front door closed again.