Authors: Simon Leigh
Out of Promises (12 page)
Sharpe stormed the streets and alleyways for the answers to his questions.
Where is the body? Who killed him?
He was afraid, afraid of a future without his brother. He had to find him.
The alleys behind the restaurants lit up and darkened again as chefs emptied their bins or opened doors to let some air into the steamy kitchens. Some were out smoking a quick cigarette before cooking the next order. He ignored them, but was ready to jump before they could blink if they said anything to him.
After almost an hour of scouring the city, he came to a street where a bum was sleeping on a bench that belonged to a bus stop. He was unshaven and covered in a dirt encrusted raincoat full of holes and the smell was horrendous.
Sharpe walked up to him and poked him in the side. ‘Do you know what happened at Amber Heights tonight?’
The bum sat upright and said with a toothless smile, ‘I’ll tell you. For ten dollars.’
‘Tell me what you saw.’
‘Ten bucks pal.’
‘Tell me what you saw. Now.’
‘No deal.’
Sharpe grabbed the bum’s neck, pinning him hard over the bench. He gurgled under the pressure and croaked, ‘I didn’t see anything.’
‘Tell me the truth.’
He tried to pry Sharpe’s hand from his throat. ‘Please, I didn’t see a thing.’
‘Why did you lie?’
‘For money.’
Sharpe let go of his neck and he fell to the bench to catch his breath.
Taking a step back, Sharpe then kicked him in the side of the head. Screaming in pain didn’t matter as another kick came, this time to his body.
‘You still want ten bucks?’
Some lights came on in the houses, but Sharpe didn’t care. He was seeing red and nothing else mattered. Again and again he kicked him, beating him to within an inch of his life, attracting the attention of the residents. Some came running from their houses, shouting for him to stop when a car pulled up.
‘Sharpe,’ said Cook through the car window. ‘Get in, now.’
Jackson got out and dragged him away from the bum.
‘Let me go,’ he yelled. ‘He knows where Preston is.’
He pushed him into the back seat and hurried in after him while being pelted by a torrent of stones from the growing group of residents.
Cook put it into drive and slammed his foot down before accelerating away.
At midday on Wednesday 9th, a furious Sharpe stormed into the headquarters’ reception area.
That bitch will never hit me again.
Patting himself down, he tried to try look respectable before bursting into Matherson’s office. ‘Mr Matherson, Valerie has hired a private detective.’
At his desk with Cook, Matherson was reading the local lunchtime newspaper called Southbrook Echo. The headline in bold, black letters read:
IS THIS THE BEGINNING OF THE PAST?
Beside the headline were two pictures: one of Saint Patrick’s church with police tape around the area and officers on guard, and another showing the riots and violence from years ago for comparison.
‘What are you talking about?’ said Cook.
Matherson looked up from the paper. ‘She’s done what? Doesn’t that woman ever listen? Doesn’t anyone?’
‘Sir, what do you want me to do?’
Matherson jumped up from his chair and slammed the paper on the desk. ‘Cook, get out.’
Without a word, he left.
When he was out of sight, Matherson said to Sharpe, ‘Bring Jackson out. We’re going to show Valerie what happens to people who cross me.’
Entering the meeting room, Sharpe rolled him out on the chair, his eyes closed and his hands and mouth still tied with tape. He’d also soiled himself and hadn’t been given anything to eat or drink.
‘Wake him up,’ ordered Matherson.
Sharpe poured a glass of icy water over Jackson’s head, bringing him to life.
Matherson paced back and forth in front of him like a parent scorning his child. ‘It seems Valerie has failed you. My only son and one of my most trusted employees. What did you think you could accomplish? You brought this on yourself.’
Sharpe ripped the tape from Jackson’s mouth, which stung like a bitch.
He slurred the words, ‘I’m saying nothing to you.’
‘Yes, Jackson, you are.’
‘Don’t you see how crazy this is? We weren’t doing anything wrong.’
‘Betraying me isn’t wrong to you?’
‘You’re a bastard. You talk about this business like it’s the government. It’s a thug’s gang, don’t you see that?’
Having built this business from the ground up and salvaging it after being forced underground, Matherson didn’t like what he was hearing. So, being a man who could not abide disrespect, he clenched his fist and punched his son square in the side of his face before whispering in his ear: ‘Valerie is going to pay as well, but you need not concern yourself with her anymore.’ He walked around his desk to a drawer, pulling out a knife. ‘Jackson? You awake? I won’t enjoy this but it has to be done. You’re all against me. Sharpe, get some plastic sheets and a camera. Wouldn’t want to make a mess.’
Sharpe nodded and left them.
Jackson’s anger turned panic and he tried to break free. ‘What are you doing? Dad? I’m your son, please don’t do this.’
Sharpe came out with the plastic sheets.
‘It’s for your own good.’
Jackson turned to Sharpe, pleading with him, ‘Sharpe, please help. This will happen to you if you don’t do something.’
Sharpe ignored him, laying the plastic sheets around the chair. ‘I would never betray your father.’
Matherson leaned down to him, bringing the knife up into Jackson’s field of view, moving it in front of his face.
Jackson’s eyes widened as the sharpened blade shone in the light. ‘Dad, no. Please don’t.’
Sharpe watched, camera in hand, taking pictures with great satisfaction.
‘It’s no wonder mom left!’ Jackson said. ‘Look at you, you’re pathetic. She knew exactly what you are.’
Well that was it; a veil of anger engulfed him. He loved Jackson’s mother, but she left him to take care of Jackson alone, no letter, nothing. She just upped and went.
Matherson plunged the knife deep into Jackson’s chest, cutting through his body as if it were butter. Blood splattered on Matherson and dripped on the plastic sheets.
Sharpe was standing out of the way, enjoying the sight of Matherson losing his grip on reality. He knew Matherson didn’t mean to kill Jackson and only wanted to send a message to Valerie, but he couldn’t help feeling pleased that his efforts had led to Jackson’s death, thus leaving a gap for him to move into.
When Matherson had had enough, he stepped back, dropping the knife and looking at his son’s lifeless body on the chair. He looked into his empty, wide open eyes, full of pain and horror.
Placing his hand over Jackson’s eyes, Matherson closed them and walked into the bathroom. ‘Sharpe, clean it up,’ he said, closing the door.
A ten feet high spiked metal fence surrounded the security complex with razor wire and a camera on every corner. Large and vast, this is where the city is managed; anything and everything from street lighting to garbage collections.
Bill stopped at a hut by the main entrance, waving to the lone guard controlling the barrier. With greying hair and a slight hunch, he was ready for retirement. ‘Hey, Bill,’ he said. ‘Here to see Dave?’
‘Yeah. How you doing, Tony?’
‘Not bad. Wife giving me hell, though. She thinks I should retire,’ he laughed.
‘Well, that’s what they’re for.’
‘Yeah, retiring and staying at home is just what I need.’
‘Why are you alone?’
‘Cut backs. Stupid ain’t it? A place like this. I couldn’t stop an attack. Between us, this place is a riot ready to happen.’
Valerie ignored it all, just wanting to get it over with.
‘Who’s she?’ he asked, handing them a clipboard. ‘Need you both to sign the register.’
Bill put his name, licence plate, and time in. For Valerie, he put Sarah Smith. ‘See you round, Tony,’ he said, handing the clipboard back.
The barrier raised and he drove through, finding a parking space in a blind spot from the cameras, taking as few chances as possible.
Bill said, ‘This is where big brother watches. They view the street cameras, the doorway cameras; you name it, they see it. This large building is where the city’s planning happens.’ He pointed across to another structure on the right. ‘We need the street management over there.’
They got out and headed over.
Valerie felt uneasy, now understanding why people fought to make the city free of law. The population’s safety was the main reason for the upped surveillance, or so everyone was told, but it was easy to feel oppressed, and if it continued to grow then she knew history would definitely repeat itself.
The door they needed to get through was made of solid steel and, as expected, security locked with a bell, an intercom, a swipe card reader, and a keypad – basically a large safe. Thick wired windows with metal bars dotted the sides with a camera lingering above.
Bill pressed the bell and nothing happened.
Feeling open and exposed, Valerie watched people coming and going from the office building. She didn’t like it and certainly didn’t feel like going inside where she’d be trapped.
Bill pressed it again.
Still nothing.
‘Wish he’d get off his fat ass.’
This time he kept his finger on it, standing there all day if needed.
‘Let go of the bell please sir,’ came a man’s voice through the intercom.
‘Finally. Dave? It’s Bill.’
‘I know who you are, I can see you. Big brother is always watching you.’
‘Dave, you fat shit, open the door. Can’t you see I have a little missy here with me? You wouldn’t wanna keep a girl waiting would you?’
Valerie frowned.
‘Always knew you were a girl, Bill,’ he said, followed by a loud gut-filled laugh and the door buzzed open.
With a little smile, they walked into an artificially bright corridor. Bare, emotionless walls with motion sensors and another camera concealed in the corners daunted as each step echoed, emphasizing the isolation Valerie felt as they neared their target passing numerous doors on either side with double doors to the offices at the far end. She turned around, watching the exit moving farther away, her heart beating harder as the blanks walls closed in.
‘Don’t worry, Val. You’ll get used to this place.’
She couldn’t understand her anxiety. Sure, her claustrophobia was a problem, but it had never affected her like this before. Usually it was just elevators, only something was different now. It could be the fact the walls were bare and overpowering, it could be that the door was solidly built with no fast escape and there were people at the other end through the double doors that could block her exit, it could even be the vulnerability she felt from Sharpe and the man in the church, or it could be all those things mixed together. She didn’t know. She did know she wanted this part of the day over with.
They found the door that said ‘Street Operations’ and pushed it, opening up to a darkened, hi-tech world of computers and monitors showing a maze of streets and doorways in the city. CCTV consoles were stacked up on a long desk covered with buttons, knobs, dials, and phones.
In a chair facing them was an obese, balding, sweaty man in a white shirt with a black tie and epaulettes that simply said ‘Security’, the chair arms open as wide as they possibly could to fit his large figure.
‘Hey Dave,’ said Bill. ‘Meet Sarah. You on your own today?’
‘Yeah, budget cuts. They save money here and use it to hire new cop recruits for the city. Only get two guards in this room during the night now. Same for the other monitoring rooms in the building.’ Swivelling his chair to Valerie, he said, ‘Hello there. I’d get up but I don’t think I can.’ So he rolled closer to her, his fat hand stretched out to shake hers. She took it and felt his stubby little fingers barely reach around her smaller palm. He had a firm handshake, which made her feel more at ease. She liked Dave, she thought he was a breath of fresh air in an otherwise dreary world, but she disagreed with his job. Watching people for a living seemed too intrusive for her liking, perverse almost.
Looking at the monitors, she felt less enclosed and isolated now she could see there was still life out there.
Dave asked Bill, ‘To what do I owe this un-pleasure?’
‘You remember the shooting of an Asian boy a few years ago in the Amber Heights building? Wong?’
‘Yeah, why?’
‘Still got the security tape from the doorway?’
‘Why do you need that?’
‘Come on, you know I can’t tell you that.’
‘All right, as it’s you, I’ll check. We usually only keep the tapes for three years unless the police ask us to keep them for longer. Everything is recorded digitally onto hard drives now we’ve finally moved into the modern age.’
He scanned his list for the date and location. ‘Seems your luck just got better, it’s on the list. It’ll be in the storage room, take a look yourself. I’m comfortable.’ He took some keys and a pass card from the desk, pointing out which one it was and throwing them to Bill. ‘Just don’t make a mess. I don’t want anyone knowing you’ve been.’
Valerie asked, ‘Won’t we be on this building’s recording now?’
‘You will, but I don’t want to give people a reason to look on them.’
She nodded.
Bill said, ‘Don’t worry big man. I’ll take good care of them.’
The storage room was located farther along the corridor. Rooms with names like ‘Generator Room’ and ‘Maintenance Office’, all of which of no use to them, held people going about their daily chores without any concern for what these two were doing in such a secure building.
Once you’re in, you’re in.
Although the main entrance didn’t seem so far away now, Valerie still wished she could leave.
They reached the room labelled ‘Digital Backup’ which contained the recordings Dave mentioned. It also contained the servers for the building’s computer network, protected by a swipe card reader on the right as well as a key lock in the door.
‘Security is tight in here isn’t it?’ she asked.
The door was unlocked.
Bill grinned, ‘Oh yeah, very tight.’
Once inside, the cool air hit their faces from the air conditioner high up on the ceiling above a dome camera hanging down to about half way. The room was eighty feet by sixty and forty feet high, well lit with half of the room used for the large servers and the other half for shelves with boxes arranged in date order. Some rows had security tapes, some had paperwork, and others had spare mechanical parts like cameras or sensors.
‘Lot bigger than you think ain’t it, missy? You take the left side n I’ll take this side.’
She walked along an aisle looking at each box in turn with numbers and addresses for each camera in the city.
Wonder if I’m on any of these.
Bill yelled, ‘Valerie, I’ve found it. Well, I’ve found the box anyway.’
‘All right,’ she shouted back.
She found him struggling to pull a box down from a shelf with difficulty. It was higher than he was, and heavy too. She moved to give him a hand, but he lost his grip and the box fell to the ground, ripping and sending the tapes sprawling across the floor.
‘Awww shit,’ he shouted.
‘Don’t they use a forklift, or lifting platform?’
‘Sure, but I don’t.’
‘So many tapes,’ she said.
‘Yeah, crime is on the up. Hope Dave doesn’t see this.’
The camera in the centre of the room was pointing right at them. ‘I think he knows.’
Bill extended his arm into a fist, lifting his middle finger up to it.
She smiled.
‘Fat Dave has nothing better to do,’ he said. ‘I mean there are only hundreds of cameras to be looking at. Why’s he need to look at us?’
‘Must be lonely for him.’
‘Wow, is that a joke? First time I’ve seen any kind of humour from you.’
‘Don’t get used to it. We’re not on a day out.’
They rummaged through the tapes, stacking the ones they didn’t want in a neat pile.
‘Strange, the tape is missing,’ said Bill.
‘I think you’re right.’
‘Let’s see what fat Dave knows shall we?’
They left the tapes where they were and returned to Dave to find him watching the monitors, slurping something from a large plastic coffee cup. His chair squeaked as he spun around to face them.
‘Nice of you to make a mess.’
‘Wouldn’t have made a mess if it were organized better. Anyway, we have a bigger problem.’
‘What’s that?’
‘The problem of a missing tape.’
‘That’s impossible, no tapes get out of here without proper authorization.’
‘Really? Well that tape must have just vanished.’
Although she liked Dave, Valerie didn’t believe a word of it. ‘Where’s the tape?’ she demanded. ‘And why were you watching us?’
‘Hey, hey, hey. I don’t know where the tape is and I was just curious.’
‘Curious? You didn’t want us recorded earlier, but you just did it deliberately.’
‘She’s got a point, Dave.’
‘OK, fine, but as for the tape going missing, I’m not the only guard who ever worked here you know.’
‘Go on.’
‘We had a guard called Harry Trent. He was as bent as a boomerang and he left this job about a year after the Wong murder. Used to deal with all sorts of bad people. Always remember seeing him talking to a man at the barrier with a messed up burnt face.’
Valerie shuddered.
Bill asked, ‘You think Harry took it?’
‘Can’t think of anyone else who it might have been. The other guards who come in here couldn’t care less about those tapes. You can look at the storage room’s camera recordings if you like but that’ll take forever so maybe you should go ask him. He lives up on Elmsmere Drive, number three hundred and three. Nice big place it is.’
‘OK, Dave, we’ll check it out, thanks,’ he said, turning towards the door.
‘No problem, say hello from me,’ he laughed.
Valerie said, ‘I hope you’re right, for your sake.’
‘What?’
‘Just a warning, Dave. I’ll come back of I have to.’
‘Good luck with that.’
‘Hey!’ she snapped, marching up to him.
Bill grabbed her arm and led her out of the door. ‘Cheers, Dave.’
At the exit, Bill pushed the button and walked out with her, stopping just outside. ‘We need all the help we can get!’ he yelled. ‘Don’t you understand? You can’t do this alone.’
People in the parking lot looked over.
‘He was treating this like a joke.’
‘That’s just how he is. He doesn’t know why we need the tape. Keep your head on straight for fuck sake. Turning on everyone in your path won’t bring Freddie back or help Jackson. You need help. If you don’t want it then tell me now and I’m gone. I can’t help you if you argue with everyone.’
‘What if he has the tape?’
‘What if he doesn’t? I’ve known him for years. I trust him.’
‘Well I don’t trust him, or you for that matter.’ She looked at the intercom.
He’s listening
‘Can we go?’ she said, walking towards the car without another word.