“Sally, can you make a video of the Ricky Gomes murder and send it to police officer in charge of solving the case?”
“Sure, I can. But you better think through the implications. Someone, the defense council for Fuentes, will ask where the video came from. How is that going to be answered? Last thing you need is your name and face plastered all over the press. Imagine trying to explain how you came to have the video?”
“We could send it anonymously.”
“We could and for one or two cases that may work. But there are thousands of unsolved murders every year. It would look sort of strange if videos started turning up for all those cases.”
She was right. Okay, enough of this. I checked the time, it was gone five. The mad rush home had begun. I had no reason to suffer the misery of breathing the stale odor of bored commuters. I headed back into the mall and out onto Geary. Every hotel had a bar and every bar had Black Label. That lifted my spirits and the pun brought a smile to my face.
Chapter 9
THE SOLUTION
The second double was as good as the first. Every time my mind tried to steer its way back to Sally and the madness that had entered my life, I fought hard to veg out and close my thoughts. The bar was now full of like-minded individuals and hotel guests. That early drinking crowd knew what they wanted. ‘Leave me alone, don’t say a word and let me revel in the peace and quiet of my own thoughts and of course the buzz.’ The few people chatting were sitting at tables away from the hardened alcoholics leaning forlornly at the bar. It was serene and comfortable and I told myself that I should make more of an effort to come into the city, instead of drinking alone at home. Oh, the joys of aging.
Maybe I should have left it at two, but I was fighting off Sally and the people of Cirion. I needed more fuel. More of what I described as my ‘Nectar-of-the-Gods’. That third double was probably why I ended up terminating Fuentes, but he would never know the real reason. Or maybe it was the two glasses of Merlot that accompanied the superb Spaghetti Pescatore in the hotel restaurant.
Eventually Sally came back, I couldn’t resist. I called her in my mind while sipping after dinner coffee.
“Okay. Let’s do it.” I said to her.
“Do what?” She inquired.
“Terminate Fuentes.”
Sally leapt onto my heads-up display. A small doll-like figure just a few inches high. Dressed now in jeans and a white t-shirt. Her blond hair flowing in an imaginary wind. Her lips full and pouting, glistening with red lipstick. Quite simply, fucking gorgeous. She grinned with delight.
“Really?”
I nodded. She looked like she wanted to query my decision, but then I could see a steely look of delight in her eyes.
“Now?” she said.
I nodded again.
“The clip thing, right?”
My mind was swimming in a lake of alcohol; it took a while to surface. “Oh yes, right. The clip. No mess.” Then I added. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”
“No! I’ve never had someone…. I mean…. you’re the first director I’ve had.” There was a pause. “He’s in the shower.”
“What? Oh, Fuentes. Okay. Do I have to be there?” That had a sobering effect on me. I had no wish to see Fuentes die.
“No, oh no. I can do it from here.” She said.
Unbelievable.
That was perfect I thought. It occurred to me that was how all military and political leaders operated. They just ordered it done. No need to get their hands dirty. No wonder it was so bloody simple to kill people. Pangs of guilt flared up in my chest, but were dulled by the alcohol. Sally’s face changed, even though these were my private thoughts, she could read my face. She knew what I was thinking and I’m sure she understood. She didn’t say anything, but she raised her eyes and creased her forehead awaiting my approval.
I accented with a nod of my head.
“It’s done.” Sally said to me and even through her thoughts I could hear a change in her voice. “Do you want to see?”
I raised my hands up in front of me. I must have looked stupid, sitting alone in the restaurant, gesticulating to no-one.
“No!” I exclaimed in my mind.
Chapter 10
FURTHER INSTRUCTION
I woke at ten on Friday, my head thumped. I could hear rain falling in the street outside and the sloshing of cars through the puddles. All I remembered about the ride home was the spinning of the train, like a corkscrew, every time I shut my eyes. I’d fought to keep them open. Coffee was a help and by the third cup I was feeling alive again. I hadn’t thought much about the events of the previous evening, but now they rushed by me. It was so quick and so easy. The sense of power was colossal and yet deep down so wrong. I called up Sally.
“Sally, what’s the news on Fuentes?”
My heads-up glowed in front of my eyes. The scene was an ambulance, outside the Union Hotel, just around the corner from where I’d enjoyed the pasta and merlot. A body, covered in a white sheet, was being loaded into the back of the ambulance. I young Hispanic girl was being escorted to a police car behind the ambulance.
“They’ll do an autopsy and say he died of a heart attack. His girlfriend is booked on a flight back to Chicago tomorrow. She doesn’t know much about Fuentes, not even where his mother lives. The trip to San Francisco was for her, thanks for some great sex, she’d only known him for a few weeks, so she’ll get over it. She didn’t stay with the body long, she looked bored and made some excuse that she felt ill. Can you believe, she went to a bar and ended up with some other guy. She was a prostitute for a while in Chicago, but now made money running crack cocaine for a bunch of local hooligans. I could give you more?
“Okay, enough.” Really, what did I expect. Then I realized I hadn’t believed that Fuentes was dead. He was, end of story.
The image disappeared, but Sally appeared on the screen, more demure than yesterday, a dark blue dress below the knee, no cleavage. Hair pinned back in a pony-tail, matronly. “You need more instruction.” She said it out loud. She wanted to be sure I understood it was important. I wondered if she’d been told by Ka-el, but I didn’t think they could have real time conversation, or send instructions that fast. It didn’t matter, I wasn’t in the mood. What more did they want to show me? I glanced at the container, still there on the carpet, in my family room. I need to hide that damn thing. The contents were still on the coffee table, un-opened packages, containing I don’t-know-what. I didn’t feel good about what had happened, yet I couldn’t muster any deep-down concern for Fuentes, either. He was a child killer, the worst of our society and his death probably meant someone else would live.
I didn’t respond to Sally. Instead I went upstairs and showered slowly and dressed even slower. She didn’t repeat the shower episode of yesterday, she had learned.