Minions (30 page)

“So you won’t help?”

“There’s nothing to help.  Ikel has his path, as do you,
as had all of the others.  Myself included.”

“You’re not filling me with confidence!”

“Frankly Devlin, I couldn’t give a shit about anything,
your confidence or lack thereof included.”  Whitely cast a disapproving eye
over Reymond as he fossicked through the refuse in the room.

“So what happens now?” Devlin asked.

“Ask ‘em if you’ve got ‘em,” Whitely said with disinterest. 
“Try your luck.”

Devlin fidgeted as he thought what he should ask.  He
thought about how odd it was that he’d had the entire drive to consider, and
rehearse, such questions, but now he didn’t know where to start.  He looked to
Reymond, as if to indicate that he should take up the opportunity.

“Tell me Whitely,” Reymond said as he settled himself into
a chair.  “Why would you say that Ikel is not dead?  The indications that I
have would suggest otherwise.”

Whitely mocked.  “If there was any genuine concern on your
part, to say nothing of actual evidence, your visit would not be as a passenger
to this idiot.” 

“Ikel’s missing and others…”

“Who, pray tell, has formally listed him as missing?”
Whitely interrupted as he juggled the remote control.  “The guy’s got no
family, I know this because that’s how it typically is with Glen and his
monkeys.”

“Alright.  I’ll try that again,” Detective Reymond thought
about re-posing.  “In the immediate term I want to find him as the next of kin
of his uncle, but Ikel’s absence comes hot after the death of another
employee.  Instinct tells me that I should be asking questions.”

“So ask them!”

“How’s this.  David left a note for Ms Hinkley indicating
that ‘Derrell was right’,” Reymond said, half reading from his notes.  “I know
the ‘Derrell’ in question also took his own life, but I’m not clear as to why.”

Whitely thought for a while.  “Detective, it’s not my
place to say anything more.”  He pointed to the door and turned to face the
television.  “Fuck off and leave me alone.”

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 61.
               
 

Angie all but dragged herself into her home after being
dropped off outside.  It was only 30 paces from the curb to her door, but she
felt each step across her entire body.  Once inside, too pained to be concerned
as to the possibility of her not being alone, she slumped into her bed, after a
momentary consideration of whether the couch was closer. 

Alone with her thoughts on her bed in the dark, she felt
torn between wanting to turn on a light and continuing the peace of the
darkness in the vain hope that she might sleep.  The reality of it was that she
knew she would never be able to sleep, she was too bruised, both physically and
emotionally.  If anyone was to ask her what hurt more, there would be no
question that it would be the betrayal that now had her mind in an exhausted
but perpetual spin. 

Nebojsa, she could handle.  She’d put up with him for some
time now, and while it wasn’t getting better, it wasn’t getting worse.  She
could see the light at the end of that tunnel; that he would lose interest when
he became aware that she had nothing else to give.  She hoped that he would
come to this realisation sooner rather than later.  But Devlin and Malcolm were
a different matter.  Devlin couldn’t hide behind ignorance or anonymity, he
just didn’t want to help.  And Malcolm.  She expected more from Malcolm, more
from her saviour.  Why did Malcolm tell her that Devlin was one of the good
guys, when he clearly had no desire to be anything other than an on-looker.  As
if she didn’t have enough of them already, and the mere thought of them caused
her lip to sneer.  The ‘friends’ who managed to keep their distance rather than
get involved and then gradually disappeared from her life.  The Police who took
one look at her history and subsequently did their level best to bury her in a
mass of bureaucracy.  And then her family who had demonstrated a sordid mix of
ambivalence and reluctance.

It was odd that just thinking about her family made her
think of the words of her father, ‘
what goes around, comes around
’.  Her
father had meant that good things come to those who are patient enough to wait,
and as a child, rightly or wrongly, she’d found those words comforting. 
Malcolm too described those words as timeless. 

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 62.
               
 

On return to the car, Reymond and Devlin were quiet.  They
both sucked in fresh air and contemplated what Whitely had said, but they felt
no need to share any of their thoughts with each other.  Reymond started the
car and began to drive, and his offer of breath mints eased the air between
them enough for them to communicate.  “Based on what Whitely said, it might
well be premature for me to have a professional interest in Ikel at this
point.”

“I wouldn’t have thought he’d be the best witness for you
to make that call.  Did he fill you with the same confidence when last you met
him?  And incidentally, which of the others on the list attracted you to him?” 

“None of them.”  Reymond’s face softened, but he kept his
eyes on the road ahead.  “He was almost my son in law, but that seems like a
lifetime ago.”

“He doesn’t seem like the perfect son-in-law type.”

“Aside from the fact that you don’t get to choose your
son-in-law, he wasn’t always as he is now.  My daughter loved him, and I was
quite partial to him.  He was a good partner and good father to my grandchild.”

“Was he working for LastGasp’ then?”

“No.  That came after.”

“After what?”

“After my grand-daughter died.  Cot-death.  It was just
something that happened.  A healthy little girl, loved by all, but one morning
she just didn’t wake up.”  Reymond proved his reluctance to shed a tear as he
retold an often repeated memory.  “My daughter didn’t cope, and he struggled to
keep it together himself.”

“So Whitely and your daughter drifted apart?”

“Officially, my daughter died of an overdose.  Whitely and
I were effectively taking it on shifts to console and support her.  We didn’t
realise she was suicidal and we kept tabs on her meds, but in the end we
couldn’t stop a grown woman doing what she wanted to do.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.  Whitely
blamed himself and I blamed myself.  We had nothing in common except blame,
anger, and sadness, but it wasn’t enough to warrant feigning a friendship that
wouldn’t sustain itself.  After that, Whitely and I drifted apart.  The depressants
he was on lost him the spark that made him good at his job and eventually he
lost his job too.  I kept my job only because by this stage I’d long since been
passed over for promotion, but was in the unenviable position of having
experience that was in demand.”

“And then he joined LastGasp’?”

“At the time I thought he was lucky just to secure employment,
but it turned out to be pretty lucrative, even though he wasn’t there long.  He
owns that house, out-right, and it wasn’t always a shit-hole like it is now.  A
nice place, good street, good suburb.  I periodically get involved officially. 
Pissed off neighbours wanting something done about him, but there’s amazingly
little that can be done.  The only reason that he hasn’t appeared on some
tabloid current affairs show on TV is that would invariably drag down real
estate prices, particularly when Whitely won’t be swayed.  The real criminals
are the ones who are systematically looking to force him out.”

“But why is he … does he?”

“Guilt.  He feels responsible, and guilt drives people in
different ways.  But enough about Whitely.”

Devlin took the hint that it was time to change the
subject and his thoughts strayed to Whitely once more.  “I’m just thinking it’s
interesting that he’s the one who’s been sending me the messages.”

“There’s an excellent talking point.  What were these
messages?  I didn’t realise that your friend Ikel had a violent side.”

“I don’t think it’s fair to describe him as violent.  I’d
say the messages amounted to provocation.”

“So what are they?”

“As soon as I joined LastGasp’, I started getting these
text messages on my phone.  Like Whitely said, they were intended as warnings,
but they were un-nerving particularly when I didn’t know the sender.  You’re
welcome to read any that I’ve still got.”

“I thought you’d be able to identify the message sender.”

“So did I, but apparently not.”  Devlin began to think
more about what Whitely had said, looking for the pearl among the banter.  This
time he couldn’t identify any subtle message.  “Detective.  What was the most
interesting thing that Whitely said?”

“I thought it was interesting that he was so convinced
that David would have died by suicide even when he wasn’t even there.  Then I
was surprised that he’d be interested not in David’s LastGasp’ message content,
but in its recipient.”  The Detective sighed.  “Tania.”

“You’re right.  That got me too.”  Devlin noted the
mournful look on the Detective’s face, but was all the more intrigued in what
Whitely had found so interesting.  He thought of the last time that they’d met
and his suggestion to find Malcolm.  It was suddenly very interesting that
Malcolm had appeared after visiting Tania.  Far from being a ‘pearl of wisdom’,
Devlin was confident that he’d at least found the oyster.

“You know it was Whitely who suggested that I find
Malcolm. 
‘Find Malcolm and he’ll reveal all,’
” Devlin waved his arms
mockingly.  “When I did meet him though, he told me nothing.  And I only found
out later that he started LastGasp’.”  Devlin drifted off trying to recall every
detail of his meeting with Malcolm.  He decided he had nothing to lose in
enlisting a little help.  “What‘s going on?” 

The Detective reached under Devlin’s seat and produced his
stack of printed reports.  He handed them to Devlin without saying a word.

Skim reading, Devlin quickly worked out what he’d been
given.  They weren’t in order, but recognising several of the names on the
reports he gathered that they were all invariably from Glen’s list.  The
structure of the Police reports made them easy to read. 

The stack depleted, Devlin was more than a little seedy
from reading amid the movement of the car, and frustrated that he was no
wiser.  “Does this mean that the Police cases are still open or are to be
re-opened?”

“No.  There’s no case for them, any of them.  Doing so
would invariably cause more hurt for their families.” 

“So why did you give them to me to read?”

“Technically I didn’t, and if you say I did I’ll deny it. 
But
if
you were to read them, you wouldn’t know any more than me.  They
didn’t help me either.”  He reached to open the glove box, exposing another
manila folder.  “That might help you with background.”

Devlin fingered through a series of hand written notes. 
“What are these?”

“I took it upon myself to do a little research ‘
on-line’,
”
Reymond emphasised his use of technology.  “Impressed?  Not bad for an old
guy?”

As he read, Devlin mentally tried to tie together the
various police reports with the respective background notes, all the while
thinking of the LastGasp’ Research Interface.  “Can I assume that you’re taking
me back to the office?”

“Clearly you’re not impressed at my research.  That’s
fine.  But if you read it, you’d see what I see.”  Devlin took the hint to read
a little more closely.  “I want you to look for a pattern among them.  I’ve
been doing this for a long time, but I can’t see anything even similar in their
backgrounds.

“To answer your question, I’m prepared to take you back to
your work, perhaps to find your friend Ikel waiting, but I’m hoping that you’ll
lend your assistance.”

“Doing what exactly?”

“Something isn’t right, Devlin.  You know it, and I know
it.  I’m not looking to rake over old coals, but I’d like to prevent anyone
joining this list or becoming any other statistic.  In so doing we might save
someone’s life, maybe even yours.”

“So were they suicides or not?  You make it sound like
there’s some doubt.”

“There’s more to saving a life than just keeping a
heartbeat.”

Devlin accepted the veiled reference to Whitely.  “So what
are we going to do?”

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 63.
               
 

Tania’s stressed wait for the new landlord dragged on into
the early evening.  It wasn’t that she had anything better to do, but still. 
There was nothing on TV and after having put so much effort into tidying her
home, she was reluctant to do anything more than re-use a single coffee mug. 

Inevitably, her thoughts turned to her long empty liquor
cabinet.  It was at times like these that traditionally she would turn to
family or friends, no matter how distant or aloof they’d become, but that was
no longer an option.  Tim was, without question, her staunchest ally, but he
couldn’t help now.  Nor would her friends; what friends?  She also felt the
shallowing emptiness of recent abandonment by ‘
Cat
’, and the anger that
accompanied it. 

*          *          * 

Malcolm watched Tania leave her apartment.  She was
muttering to herself as she always did, and he recognised the desperation in
her walk as she crossed the road.  The only question was whether she would head
for the bar or the adjacent liquor store.  The net effect would be the same of
course.  He closed his eyes and hoped as he watched her deliberate from outside
on the footpath.