Authors: Garrett Addison
He was disappointed with her choice, but the outcome would
not change, only the timing.
Chapter - 64.
Devlin looked over his list of names as the Detective
stopped off somewhere for a few take-away coffees while they came up with a
plan. The old guy had a self-confessed aversion to drive-throughs and so opted
for some dingy little café which he knew from experience. Devlin’s
expectations as to the quality of the beverages was not high.
“Thoughts?” the Detective asked on his return.
“The names mean nothing to me. David was the only one I
knew, but not well. Casey, Carson and Lawrence were mentioned in Whitely’s
messages.”
“Alright. Let’s start with them then,” said Reymond..
Devlin separated the reports featuring names he recognised
and began to read them more closely, thinking aloud as he read. “Alun and
Derrell suicided, according to the reports, but Casey didn’t. So what’s
special about him?”
The Detective scanned his own notes. “He interested me
the most too, if only because he was known to have some bad ties. Habitual
gambler, sooner or later he was going to end up owing the wrong people. My
guess is that he couldn’t pay up fast enough.”
“That isn’t in the report.”
“The report is supposed to be objective. Associations can
be hard to prove. Certainly no-one went down for his death, but maybe if they
ever find the rest of him that will change.”
Mention of associations prevented Devlin from asking for
further, sure to be morbid, details. “Can we go for a drive? There’s someone
I’d like to visit.”
Chapter - 65.
Conrad was not appreciative to see Devlin appear at his
door with a guest. Devlin himself was expected, thanks to his call en-route,
but not the company. The fact that he was clearly a Detective represented the
real cause for concern. He saw the trouble flashing before his eyes, but for
the moment he ignored the guest and kept focussed on what Devlin had asked. “I’ve
got the matrix for Casey. I’ll need a moment longer to compare it with all the
others.”
“For the moment I just want Casey compared with Carson and
Leon. This is Detective Reymond, you might have crossed paths before,” said
Devlin as he made himself at home on the couch.
“Sadly not. My
past
involvement with the Police
does not entitle me to ongoing involvement.” Conrad hoped the subtle reference
to ‘past’ would be enough to dissuade Devlin from showing his hand.
“Devlin tells me that you’re something of a researcher.
Researching what exactly?” asked Detective Reymond
“Nothing specific. I look for patterns in people and
their relationships.” Conrad kept it generic and without anything that could
be played against him.
“He also tells me that you tried to warn him. So what has
he got to worry about?”
Conrad left his comfort zone at the keyboard to engage the
Detective as best as he could. He explained as much as he knew, but fell short
of explaining his sources. It occurred to him that technically this is what he
wanted, formal interest in LastGasp’.
“So you have nothing,
really
. Just a mass of
conjecture,” Reymond said, unconvinced. “I’ve seen the police reports and
there’s nothing there.”
“You’re not the first to doubt me,” Conrad was unfazed.
“I’ve had this same discussion with many of Devlin’s predecessors.” He felt
the opportunity slipping from his fingers. “Devlin just suggested that you
would be more likely to listen.”
“I’m prepared to listen, but so far you’ve only told me
what I already knew.”
“Can he see the matrix?” Devlin asked Conrad from the
keyboard. “That’s what did it for me.”
Conrad was reluctant, not that it was any more of a breach
than having shown it to Devlin. In fact it was arguably less of a Police
security or privacy matter showing it to a Detective. He knew that others
would see a breach as a breach, regardless, though if some quantifiable good
came of it, then it might provide for some justification or mitigation, if or when
it became necessary. He conceded, waving his hand to coax the Detective to the
computer in capitulation. He gave the same summary he’d given Devlin
previously, this time mentioning departmental justification and authority. He
used his fishing analogy again.
“It’s pretty, but what does it actually mean?” asked
Reymond as he perused the matrix on the screen while trying to associate what
he’d heard Devlin ask Conrad from the car. “What did Devlin ask you to do?”
“I’ve been fixated on the relationship between all of the
LastGasp’ employees and Glen, or LastGasp’.” Conrad gestured for Devlin to
move from his seat so that he could continue with his task. “Devlin thinks
that I must be missing something because I’m concentrating on what is so
obvious. He suggested that I should look at other commonalities between them.
The matrix disappeared as he started to use the computer.
“What’s happened?” asked the Detective.
“I need to write a little code. It will be substantially
faster and more efficient than mindlessly and manually comparing the matrices
of everyone by eyeball.”
“So what are you doing?” asked the Detective.
“Alright then.” Conrad sized up the Detective to gauge
the best way to describe what he was doing. “You’re obviously pre digital age,
but do you remember doing set theory in mathematics at school?” As the
Detective nodded vaguely, Conrad figured that his description would be
understandable to him. “Well, until now my program has focussed on presenting
a
union
of known interactions. It’s interesting to see who people know
within a few degrees of separation. Devlin wants to look at
intersections
.”
The Detective thought this through for a moment. “In my
day we called them ‘
Venn’
diagrams.”
“As in Malcolm
Venn
?” Devlin said, a spark in his
eyes.
Conrad ushered the others to the kitchen. “I can’t work
with someone looking over my shoulder. Help yourself to coffee. I’ll need
about ten minutes.” Left on his own, he started to type feverishly.
“Did you work out what Malcolm was doing on your machine?”
Devlin asked while he sniffed the percolated coffee on offer. Conrad either
ignored the question or was otherwise oblivious.
The Detective’s interest was piqued, “Why was Malcolm
here?”
“I don’t know,” said Conrad, not missing a keystroke as he
spoke. “He found me initially.”
“So why haven’t I been made aware of this before now? Or
can I assume that your interest isn’t entirely official?”
“I’ve tried, but no-one’s interested. Conflicting
priorities and that shit,” Conrad paused and looked to the Detective. “What
aroused your interest?”
“Actually, I bumped into Devlin here a little more than is
likely. First at the hotel after David’s passing, and then across town. He
offered to help me because we’re both interested in Malcolm.”
“Suffice to say that’s not his real name,” Devlin felt the
need to contribute. “But no-one’s told me if he’s actually done anything
wrong?”
“Legally not. Not this time, not ever. He’s a no-one,”
said Reymond. “He couldn’t have done Angie over, the latest time at least, and
certainly she won’t have anything against him.”
“I’ve told you that,” said Devlin. “It wasn’t Malcolm.”
“How can you be that certain?”
“I told you. I saw a message from Angie, and she named
the guy and it wasn’t Malcolm.”
“It might help if I had a copy of that message. Then at
least I could do some checking.”
“It’s not like that. This was a private message that
Angie has written to be sent after she dies.”
“Who to?”
“I don’t know, just as I have no way of printing it off if
I was in any way obliged to do so. It’s only accessible from the LastGasp’
office.”
“I could get a warrant.”
“You could try. I’ve been told that others have tried but
still no-one’s gotten in unless they’re an employee.” Devlin looked to Conrad,
still typing away. “Some geek researcher could potentially get in, but me
thinks that none of us would be here if that was the case and they’d actually
been successful.”
Conrad made a spectacle of waving his arms to ensure that
he had his visitor’s attention. He then made a point of pressing a key with a
single finger after his arm had traversed a full arc through the air down to
the keyboard. “I’m done.”
Devlin and Reymond joined Conrad looking at the screen.
“What am I looking at?” asked Reymond.
“It’s exactly what Devlin wanted. The aesthetics will
come later, if I’m so inclined, but right now it’s just what he wanted. It’s a
list of common interactions, people, between the list of LastGasp’ employees.”
The list was empty.
“Alright, so that doesn’t help a great deal.” Conrad
thought for a moment. “But if I relax …” He tapered off into lazy mumbling.
Reymond and Devlin kept looking on, hopeful that a result
would materialise quickly. After a minute or so, they both returned to the
couch.
“How’s this?” This time there was a list of names.
Conrad made a point of periodically pressing a button and the list would change
to reveal more or fewer names.
“Why’s it changing?” asked Reymond.
“I figure that it was possibly unreasonable for anyone to
be known directly by all of those in your list. Rightly or not, I relaxed my
algorithm to try people known by more than one of them on the list. It might
not be exactly what you asked for, but it’s certainly better than nothing.”
“Can you make them flash?” asked Devlin.
Chapter - 66.
Nebojsa would never have likened himself to a shepherd
ordinarily, but the fact is that he did tend his flock, of sorts. Those dumb
individuals, those seeds, needed to be protected from themselves. He was
exhausted by the time he returned to his home, but it could have been worse.
He’d spent the best part of the late afternoon and early evening doing the
rounds, but one took longer than normal to understand what he expected. The
result was that there were many people that he simply didn’t have time to
visit. He knew they wouldn’t go anywhere, but it was inconvenient
none-the-less.
Tonight, he felt an odd mix of emotions; primarily fatigue
and disappointment. He slumped on the end of his bed, kicked off his shoes and
then lay back on to the bed to recap on all that he’d
learnt
today.
Stupid
bitch
, he thought.
His visit started much like the last time, but then she
got smart. He recognised her self-confidence immediately and it made him smile
just to think about it. He knew in an instant that what was supposed to be a
simple exchange, property for knowledge, was not going to be that simple, but
he asked just the same. He asked once.
It was then that Nebojsa learnt that leverage can be
tricky with someone with no-one. In retrospect, it was odd that it hadn’t come
up before. All his life, with everyone he’d learnt from, there was always
something that people would value, something to trade, but this one was
different. She was single, widowed, but not by him, and had no family. She
had assets and up until this afternoon she had been willing to part with them
without much coercion; he only had to ask. But then she changed her mind.
Just like that, she said she wasn’t willing to complete the deal. That much
was fine, and it wasn’t the first time he’d heard that kind of response from
her, and others. She was so confident about it too, even bordering on
arrogant. Luckily she didn’t threaten him or mention any outside help. She
obviously understood the implications of involving others, but it left her wide
open to being convinced, to be made to understand.
She submitted immediately to a humble request for oral
gratification, but this didn’t bring him closer to what he really wanted. An
ageing woman, dentures out just in case, salivating over his cock made for some
light entertainment, but it really only exposed just how much the years had
not
wisened her. Climax over, time had passed, the deal was still to be made, and
he made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere. Her tears changed nothing, but it
did remind him that on each of his past visits, damaging her in some fashion,
regardless of the volume of blood that was spilt, while entertaining, was not
going to change her mind or weaken her resolve.
The arrival of a ginger cat at the door startled Nebojsa at
first. One second there was sunlight on the glassed French doors opening onto
her courtyard, the next, the cat was pawing its ‘let me in’ routine. When the
woman shook her head, as if to tell the cat to go back to chasing mice or
something, he saw a new flow of tears and knew he’d found his means. He
invited the cat inside, picked it up and nursed it in front of the woman for a
time. It was overweight and apparently not that choosy as to its human
company, judging by the fact that while it didn’t purr, it didn’t moan either,
not initially. It did moan later though, and it moaned a lot. He didn’t leave
empty handed.
Nebojsa was extra attentive to his personal hygiene as he
showered. It had been a long and messy day, and he had two species of pussy
juice to remove. He laughed that his new home and its’ language had provided
such a humorous play on words.