by Ryan Casey
Gradually, as the frequency of the jobs increased, so too did the intensity. First it was, ‘I need the target and her husband taken out because her husband might know something.’ Then it was whole families extinguished by Jared’s hand. After Raymond’s wife died, Raymond grew more cold and less understanding. But Jared had to be there for him, after everything Raymond had done for him. Besides, this wouldn’t last forever. One day, Jared would be finished with all this. One day, he’d be able to put his feet up and forget it all; he’d be able to start a life of his own.
And if he couldn’t forget it all, he’d create a new identity for himself to do the forgetting for him.
He let the papers slip onto the floor and closed his eyes, sinking into the pillow. He would spend the weekend doing his homework and then get to work at their house in the suburbs on Monday. That’s all he really needed to do.
But there was nothing technically wrong with him grabbing a coffee from Cindy’s store tomorrow morning.
Chapter Five
Jared recognised her face right away.
She was standing behind the counter. A chubby woman across the counter held onto a tray full of coffee and joked with her as her two kids buzzed around. As the woman tiptoed towards a table, the coffee cups rattling from her shaking hands, Jared readied himself before walking towards the counter, now free of customers.
‘What can I get you, mister?’ she asked. Her smile was warm and genuine. Her hair looked shorter than it did on the picture, with more of a reddish tinge. Her eyes stood out more strongly than they had done on the black and white of the page, too. Jared pretended to look at the menu as he took a deep breath and flexed his shoulders out.
‘Just a coffee, please. A cappuccino, actually.’
She nodded at him, still holding her smile. ‘Regular or large?’
Jared brushed his hands against his stomach and cleared his throat. Regular or large. Regular or large? ‘Just a regular, please,’ he said, grinning back at her as their eyes met. Their eyes locked for a moment, two moments…
‘Right, sir,’ she said and walked over towards the coffee machine.
Jared looked around the cafeteria. The sun shone in through the open bay window as the traffic of the highway rushed past. It was a good place to watch the world go by. He spotted a photograph of Cindy and her family by the microwave, the same photo that Raymond had provided him with in his documents, only in high definition, full-coloured detail. They looked so much more real in colour.
Cindy’s shuffling feet broke Jared’s stare. ‘So, you don’t seem like the sort of guy who comes out for a coffee much.’
Jared took another breath through his nostrils. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘I don’t get much free time. Thought I’d come see the sights.’ He smiled at her again, for good measure, as she mixed the coffee and the milk together in a steel container.
‘And what is it you do?’ she asked.
Jared carried on smiling, breathing rhythmically. She asked the correct questions. Questions he could answer in his own way. ‘I do a few things.’
Cindy pulled the lid from the container and poured hot water into a white cup, steam growing from the surface. ‘What like?’
‘Cleaning, housework, gardening. A mixture of things, really.’
Cindy nodded and stuck her bottom lip out. ‘A bit of a Handy Andy then, huh?’
Jared smiled and looked down at his feet. ‘And what do you think my name is?’
Cindy frowned as she carried the drink towards Jared. ‘It’s… it’s not, is it? Andy? Really?’
‘No, it’s Richard, but I’m very pleased to meet you anyway… Cindy.’ He pretended to clock the nametag. Feigned attention to detail—good way to lull someone into a false sense of security.
Cindy rolled her eyes as she stirred Jared’s drink. ‘I know this might sound… sound completely psycho and off the mark, but you’re not Richard D’Oleno, are you?’ she asked.
Perfect. Jared forced his eyes to widen. ‘Erm, yeah… yeah, I am,’ he said, before scratching his head and pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. He glanced down at the empty piece of notepad paper and pretended to recognise her name. ‘Wait… Cindy Dawson?’
Cindy laughed and shook her head from side to side. ‘Okay, now this is a little bit weird.’
Deep breaths flowing now. Warm air in: comfortable. Smile static.
‘Yeah, just a little,’ he said. ‘Some would say you’re stalking me or something.’
‘Says you, buying coffee from me. How rude. Anyway, anyway, it’s very nice to meet you, Richard.’ She held her hand out.
Jared grabbed it. Soft hand. Loose shake. Trusting.
‘My boyfriend is really looking forward to seeing what you can do with the office,’ she said before peering over Jared’s shoulder, breaking their gaze. ‘Speak of the devil.’
Jared turned round as the recognisable figure of Brian walked through the door, dressed in a dark blue suit and loosened tie. He carried Carl—his son—on his shoulders, shaking him from side to side as he entered. Jared tried not to look at the kid. He couldn’t think about what he had to do whilst he was involved. It brought back too many memories.
No. Burma was the past. Burma wouldn’t happen again.
Warm deep breaths. Enjoyable.
Cindy walked over to Brian and reached up to him to give him a kiss before scruffing Carl’s hair. Brian looked slightly skinnier than he did in the picture and much taller. Cindy whispered something to Brian and her grin widened as he looked over at Jared. He dropped Carl into Cindy’s arms, playfully, before walking over to Jared.
‘I believe you’re Richard, the handyman,’ Brian said, grinning and holding out his hand.
Jared grabbed it. Firm handshake. Hold for two seconds and wait for…
There. Loosening of the grip. Two seconds was enough. Trusting, warm.
‘Yeah,’ Jared said. ‘Small world.’
Brian let out a large chuckle. His head was shaven at the sides as a bald patch worked its way towards the back of his head. He rubbed Carl’s hair as he ran over to his side, playing with a Millennium Falcon toy.
‘Carl, this is Mr D’Oleno,’ he said. ‘He’ll be dropping by for a few days whilst he gets Dad’s office in order, right?’
Cindy walked up behind Brian and hugged him tightly.
‘Ooft, my back’s still damn sore,’ he said, wincing in pain. ‘Anyway, you should get back to work, you slacker.’ He pecked Cindy on the cheek. ‘I’ll have a decaf please, and an orange juice for the big lad.’ He pinched his son’s nose. Carl glanced up towards Jared. Jared smiled at him and nodded his head.
Brian whispered something to Carl, who scooted over to a nearby table, waving the Millennium Falcon through the air as it descended on top of a half-eaten burger box.
‘So, you all ready to start on Monday?’ Brian asked.
Jared nodded. ‘Sure. Get started Monday and I reckon I can be done by the end of the week.’
Brian laughed. ‘You haven’t seen how many files I have yet. Don’t worry about being done. As long as you’re doing a good job, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need. I was really impressed by the references your employer provided me with. I might be busy… election and all that. But yeah, my girlfriend will be around, and Carl will be there to give you a bit of company, although I hope you know your C3P0 from your R2D2.’
Jared nodded and smiled.
Brian waited for Jared to reply before cutting in himself. ‘You easy with the routine?’
Jared nodded. ‘A-D on shelf one. K-L on shelf three. N-O on shelf two. And reincorporate the contents of shelf four into the other thr—’
Brian shot straight back at him with an impressed smile. ‘Right, right. You’ve done your homework. Good lad. And you know where to find us?’
Jared continued nodding. ‘Twenty-four Birch Lane. Real nice… nice spot in the suburbs you’ve got.’
Brian patted him on the shoulder. ‘Well, if you do a stellar job
for us, you might just find yourself lodging in the loft.’
Jared laughed and averted his gaze towards the floor as Brian grabbed his coffee and Carl’s orange juice, carrying them over to the table where Carl continued to play with his toy.
They seemed like decent, honest people. It was always a shame when decent, honest people had to get mixed up in things. Then again, Brian couldn’t be that honest if he was involved in politics, especially if he was involved with a mayorial candidate backed by Dwight Goodstein. Honesty and politics were mutually exclusive concepts. Honesty and Dwight Goodstein were exemplary juxtaposition.
Brian knocked back his coffee and gasped as he reached the bottom of the cup. Carl tried to down his orange juice, imitating his dad, but dribbled down his chin. Brian tutted and wiped the corners of Carl’s mouth with his striped blue tie. ‘The amount of ties this boy’s been through,’ he said. ‘Got kids of your ow—’
‘No,’ Jared said, firmly. His neck tingled. Stay in character. No complacency. He attempted a smile again but his cheeks trembled. ‘No, not quite ready yet. I should be… I should be off.’ He tucked his head into his neck and walked over towards the door as Brian and Carl looked on.
‘I look forward to seeing you on Monday,’ Brian said.
Jared grabbed the cold metal handle of the doorway as his smile faded. His arms were warm. He just needed some fresh air. The fan, it was shit in here. He just needed some time to walk, to clear his head…
‘Richard.’
Jared stopped at the door and turned round to see Cindy holding up his cup of coffee, the steam still emerging from its lid. Jared paused as his heart began to pound.
‘Sorry, I completely forgot,’ he said. He stumbled back over to Cindy, who handed it to him, still smiling.
‘I’ll see you on Monday,’ she said.
Jared nodded as he walked back past Brian and Carl and towards the door of the café.
Chapter Six
His room was still dark when he opened his eyes.
His arms shivered as cold sweat seeped from his hair and into the greasy pillowcase. He turned over to look at his alarm clock: 6:12. A couple of hours to prepare—to get himself into the frame of mind. Phase two of the life of Richard D’Oleno. Decent name. 7/10.
He walked into the bathroom in his boxers and splashed some cold water onto his face. He stared at himself in the mirror. His dark hair was beginning to curl at the sides. He scratched his bristling stubble and headed back into his room with a small glass of water in hand, perching on the edge of his bed and sipping it. Good for the metabolism. Best way to start a day. Potential boost to life expectancy.
The jiffy bag containing the details of the Brian McDone job peered back from the edge of his dusty desk. The photograph of the family sat on top of the bag. It lacked vibrancy compared to the real photo he’d seen in the coffee shop. It lacked vibrancy compared to them in the flesh. Eyes. Eyes were always more vibrant, more reflective. People always looked different in real life though, compared to pictures. Brian was a fine example. Full head of hair here, almost immaculate. In reality, he was practically balding.
He placed the photograph to one side and reached into the envelope, pulling out the bulk of the papers. He skimmed through the words and noticed those in bold in the middle.
DISPATCH HIM (& HER IF NECESSARY).
‘IF NECESSARY’.
What did that even mean? If she witnessed it? Clocked on to what Jared was up to? IF NECESSARY. Always those two words. Often, it was necessary. Strasbourg 2001: girl falls for David Flesch, one of Jared’s aliases. He had been tasked with killing a German businessman. The wife spotted him spiking her husband’s drink, let him do it anyway because even she thought her husband was a failure. Spouted shit about running away together.
But it didn’t work like that. She’d fallen in love with another person: a hologram of Jared, but not Jared. Just abstract smiles. Mathematical and semiotic decisions leading to positive reactions to stimuli.
She wouldn’t love Jared.
‘Richard.’
Forgetting his coffee and the world closing in on him.
Deep breaths. Composure.
After he’d gotten dressed into his blue workman outfit—a collared shirt with some bullshit ‘Amstel’ logo on the front—he picked up his mobile phone and keyed in Raymond’s number. Amstel. Wonder how much Raymond had to bribe them to convince them to take Richard D’Oleno on for a week? Big job, too. Probably in the tens of thousands.
The dialling tone gave way to a crackle of static and fatigued groans.
‘Hu-Hello? What… what fucking time is this?’
‘It’s Jared. I’m sorry to call you so early.’
Raymond yawned. ‘Jared, I—it’s okay. Just… um, just give me a sec.’
Jared heard muttering and whispering in the background before a more attentive and less sleepy Raymond returned to the phone.
‘Jared, what can I do for you?’
Jared twiddled with the string dangling from the side of his cotton blue workman’s shirt. ‘It was just something I was wondering about… in the contract.’
‘The Brian McDone contract? Bit late to be going over things isn’t it, kid?’
Jared nodded to himself. ‘Yes, I know. It’s just something I was wondering about. The girl, Cindy. You say to kill her if necessary. What does that mean?’
There was a moment’s silence.
‘Hello?’
‘It means kill her if you need to. You’ve never had any problems with that before, have you?’
Jared squeezed his fingers against his forehead and clenched his eyes together. ‘I know, it’s just—what do you mean “if necessary?” Do you want me to kill her, or—’
‘You’ve not gone and fallen for the pretty girl have you?’
Jared’s head spun as his thoughts went fuzzy. He scratched his lip, unsure.
‘Jared, Jared,’ Raymond said, sighing. ‘We’ve been here before. You’ve got to shut off when you get involved in this shit. Be that other person. Embrace that fucking brilliance and ruthlessness I know you have inside you. I have faith in you, kid. You always deliver.’
Jared nodded, reassuring himself. He was being stupid. Cold feet, they called it. ‘Okay,’ he said, rubbing his cheeks. ‘Just… still tired after the Egypt job.’
‘And you are bound to be,’ Raymond said, with optimism. ‘But after this, you can have that break we spoke about, if you want. File some papers, or sip some fucking cocktails on a West Coast beach. But this… It’s important. Election time. Stressful for all of us, man.’
Jared exhaled deeply at the thought of a holiday. Sun on the skin, Faith by his side. No worries.
‘You’re the fucking stepping stone to our future, Jared,’ Raymond continued. ‘That’s why I pick you for the best jobs. This guy—Brian—he might seem a nice guy, but you don’t know him. You know a thing or two about playing the nice guy card, right? He’s fucked us over. Started cosying up to one of our sources, then shared that info with Dwight or this Callum Thomson crook. So, find that info, kill him, and get back to me.’ He paused. ‘Do what you think is best with the girl.’
‘And the kid?’ Jared asked.
Raymond sighed and muttered something again. A high-pitched voice giggled at the other end of the line. ‘Jared, don’t worry about the kid. You need to stop worrying about the kids. They’ll be better off, okay? We’ll make sure of that.’
Jared turned to his watch: 6:41. He needed to finish getting ready. Embrace Richard D’Oleno. He’d done it countless times before, and he could do it again. The difference between him and Raymond’s other workers was that he wasn’t himself when he killed. He wasn’t Jared. The second you started to enjoy killing, you lost it all. That wasn’t him. He didn’t enjoy killing.
‘I’ll catch you later,’ Jared said.
‘Keep me informed, son. And report back to me as soon as you get the info. The election’s two weeks from Monday, so ideally we want this clea
ned up by the end of this week, okay?’
Jared squeezed his eyes together. They were still heavy. Probably still jetlagged. He’d get some moisturiser on them and freshen them up, give them their glow again.
‘Okay,’ Jared said, before pulling the phone from his ear and cancelling the call.
He took one last look at the photograph of the family, nodded his head, and turned back towards the bathroom.
Brian and Cindy’s house wasn’t difficult to find.
The sun beamed onto the suburban hillside, away from the smog-drenched and sound-polluted inner city. Luscious trees lined the streets like watchful guards, looking over the angry high-rise buildings of the city below. There was a quiet, content buzz about the place as children skipped into their cars to be taken to school. Not the sort of place you’d expect anything major to go down.
Brian was waiting at the window of his house as Jared pulled up outside number twenty-four. He waved over at Jared before disappearing out of view. Jared took a deep breath and popped some chewing gum in his mouth. He glanced at his weary eyes in the mirror and snapped them shut.
When he opened them again, they were white and beaming.
He was Richard D’Oleno.
He stepped out of the truck to the clicking of Brian’s loafers against his driveway. Brian was dressed in his navy blue suit again, a different tie wrapped around his neck: green stripes, slightly scuffed at the collar.
‘Richard,’ Brian said, walking towards him with his hand held out. ‘Glad you managed to find us. No problems at all?’
Jared shook his head and twiddled the gum across his tongue as he shook Brian’s hand. ‘It was easy enough to find.’
Brian nodded and continued to clench Jared’s hand.
Four seconds. Five seconds. Very trusting. Too trusting.
