Minions (26 page)

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Malcolm waited until he saw Reymond and the new guy leave
before he made his way from the ward waiting room.  It was just as well that
they didn’t stay longer really as he had too much to do to sit idle and he’d
completed every puzzle in each of the available magazines on offer.  It was
true that he could have just left, but he needed to say his goodbyes to Angie;
she deserved that much.  He could have joined her while they were at her
bedside, but he didn’t want to see the Detective or Devlin really.

One thing that was good about hospital waiting rooms was
the volume and assortment of newspapers.  Malcolm had managed to piece together
the complete chronology of everything that he’d missed during his
sabbatical
and also checked the progress on his other projects.  Others might not have
been able to see through the gloom and doom of the news, but Malcolm found the
read very positive.  What was more, he had managed to do this without any
digital signature.  There was a lot to be said for such traditional media.

There was no time to procrastinate.  Angie would not be
happy at what he had to say, but there was no avoiding the fact that it needed
to be said.  It was just unfortunate that he needed to say it now when, judging
by her tirade, she was a little emotional.  Malcolm just hoped that she would
be able to stay objective and understand the bigger picture; the greater good.

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 51.
               
 

Devlin refused to be engaged by Detective Reymond in the
car on anything beyond banal comment on the weather and traffic conditions.  He
wasn’t being rude, and it wasn’t on account of his usual innate apprehension
with regard to authority.  This time, Devlin was busy thinking, but he was finding
it difficult to focus.  His thought processes were a scattered array of
confusion; debating his stay or run options, replaying Angie’s words and
perspective, Lori’s revelations about Albert, and the disparity in driving
style between Ikel and the Detective.  Devlin also thought of Glen and Whitely,
picturing them each with a knowing grin.

A phone rang and Reymond answered it using some wireless,
cordless, hands-free thing that Devlin never understood.  The use of such
technology enabled him to share in the conversation initially, though as soon
as Reymond realised it was Angie on the line, clearly in more of a state than
when they’d left the hospital, he reverted to the use of the handset.  Devlin
tried to make what he could of their exchange, but the surrounding hum of
traffic made that next to impossible, particularly as Angie was doing all of
the talking.  He resigned himself to the necessity to wait.

The smug look on the Detective’s face as soon as the call
was completed was enough for Devlin to be concerned.  When he pulled over to
side of the road and switched off the engine, Devlin just braced himself for
what could only be bad news. 

“That was Angie, obviously,” Reymond began.  “And she’s
more than a little upset.”  Devlin said nothing, waiting for the kicker.

“She’s finally decided to tell me who her attacker is.  I
have to say that this is good news and it makes me happy.  Today might just
have an upside after all!”

“Why do I sense there’s a ‘
but
’ coming?”  Devlin tried
a smile, as much to relax his mood as that of the Detective, but one never
eventuated.

“Can you please account for your whereabouts the day
before yesterday once more for me?”

Devlin felt for the door handle, but he stopped short of
actually exercising it, and oddly enough there was little comfort to be had in
stroking the handle.  Angie had set him up, and a cursory recollection
suggested that proving things might be difficult.  Amongst the small talk that
the Detective had tried to encourage further discussion had been to share how
he had come to meet Malcolm and then Angie.  He described Angie’s house and
locale, and Devlin reasoned that it may well have been within a few blocks of
the LastGasp’ office.  It would be just his luck that he walked right past it
as he made his way to meet Glen at LastGasp’ the first time.  In fact, he may
well have walked past just as she was being assaulted.  It wouldn’t take too
much digging to come up with witnesses to place him in the vicinity, and that
would be enough if Angie cared to finger him.  He knew enough of the procedure
to be worried.

“Convince me now and you just might save yourself having
to do this at the station.”

“What exactly has she said?”

“Here or at the station, Devlin?”

“There’s nothing to tell.  I read her message, I bumped
into you on an unrelated matter and the rest you know, including the part where
the only way that I managed to meet her at all was via you.”  Devlin couldn’t
help his exacerbation.  “I only met her in the hospital, so please don’t tell
me she’s saying that I’m responsible in some way for her injury. 
I don’t know what else I can tell you, but more than
ever I’d like to speak to Malcolm.”  He wound down the window as a safe
alternative to opening the door.

Detective Reymond watched Devlin with the maturity of an
old dog on a porch.   “Angie’s injuries could well have been the result of a
drug deal gone wrong.  But they weren’t.  You could well have been involved in
her latest injuries, but not the rest of them.”  The Detective held up his hand
to quash any potential interruptions.  “It’s interesting that when you were…
elsewhere, Malcolm was potentially in the frame.”  He produced a single sheet
of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket.  “What can you tell me about
this list?”

Devlin took the sheet after the Detective baulked briefly at
his attempt and then relented.  Within the first few lines he recognised Glen’s
list of past LastGasp’ employees.  This was a photocopy, hand annotated with
some indecipherable scrawl and copied, but it was definitely the same list.  He
resisted the urge to compare it line for line with his copy, still folded in
his jeans pocket. “Where did you get this?”

“My sources are my business.  What do you know about it?”

“Not a lot.  I said before that Glen gave me a list of
past employees to visit.  Well, this is the list.  Why would you have it?”

“Angie had it on her person when I found her.”  The
Detective thought for a moment then added, “You know I can help.” 

“Frankly Detective, I’m not entirely sure I need help.  ”

“How many names on this list have you visited?”

“One.  Only Whitely.  I saw him this morning.  Are you
suggesting that I should visit a few more?”

“Perhaps, but you might like to choose carefully.  A
number of the names on the list were familiar, which invariably means that I’ve
come across them in my work.”

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 52.
               
 

Devlin thought he would feel relief when the Detective
returned him to Ikel’s car, but instead, he felt more than a little abandoned. 
Reymond hadn’t said another word after suggesting that he needed to meet with others
from Glen’s list, and so the entire trip dragged on and seemed to take
substantially longer than the ten or so minutes that it actually took.  Devlin
had spent every one of those long minutes trying to come up with a plan while
half expecting to be taken directly to the Police station.  It wasn’t until the
Detective pulled up gently behind Ikel’s car that he realised at least that
particular element of his stress was in vain. 

Now alone with his thoughts seated in Ikel’s car with the
engine running, Devlin had no idea what to do.  He saw the playground that
provided the backdrop for his picture in the newspaper and theorised as to
where the photograph was taken from.  From where he was parked he could also
see many windows in the adjacent apartment complex, one of which was possibly
Tania’s.  He considered visiting her for more information, but that seemed both
pointless and inappropriate. 

A knuckled knock on the passenger side window abruptly
ended Devlin’s daydreaming.  By the time he made a motion to see who was
attracting his attention it was apparent that, whoever it was, a man, was
opening the door.  By the time Devlin thought to wonder what was happening, the
guy was seated, eyes forward, looking at the street ahead, and reaching for his
seatbelt.  Devlin struggled for the most appropriate words to express all that
seemed necessary.  “What the fuck are you doing?” 

“My name is Malcolm Venn.”  He spoke clearly and
succinctly, but kept his eyes forward, looking through the windscreen.  “I want
you to drive away from here.”

“Where to?”

“It doesn’t matter.  Just drive.”

Devlin slipped the car into gear and did as instructed. 

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 53.
               
 

Angie was true to form
, thought Nebojsa as soon as
he learnt that she had checked herself out of the ward.  The nurse then
proceeded to describe how she’d grown angry with a few visitors, but then went
completely irrational and left, but he wasn’t really listening to anything that
she said.  Instead, he was focussed on another nurse in an adjacent office with
the door ajar briefing an older gent.  The usual lack of respect for patient
confidentiality was very beneficial.  It was obvious that the older guy was
Police, of some description, judging by the fact that the staff were
comfortable disclosing all to him; in so doing they shared everything with
Nebojsa himself too.

It was refreshing to hear the old guy’s frustration.  He
was annoyed that Angie was gone, and Nebojsa shared that sentiment, of sorts. 
That Malcolm was of interest to the Detective too was obvious.  Nebojsa wondered
if the Police found Malcolm to be as good a source of knowledge as he did.  If
Malcolm wasn’t such a veritable source of
seeds
he wondered if he
wouldn’t have wanted to coax all the knowledge that he could from the guy.

So engrossed in listening to what the old guy was being
told, Nebojsa didn’t notice when the nurse addressing him actually stopped
talking.  The nurse quickly understood that her banter was little more than
background noise to what he was really listening to.  She closed the door, and
only after she had done so did he realise that his veneer of cover had been
blown.  He shrugged off her evil stares, but noted her name just the same, in
case a later visit was to be considered.  He pushed the basket of fruit and
‘Get Well Soon’ balloons across the counter and calmly left the ward.

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 54.
               
 

The knock at the door broke Conrad’s concentration
completely.  Used to working on his own, he often surprised himself at how
familiar sounds would not distract him from his train of thought.  He worked
best iPod in ears, some pirated DVD playing in the background and the periodic
whir and bubble of his coffee machine or a beeping reminder that some reheated
food remained in the microwave awaiting retrieval.  However, he didn’t get many
visitors and the rap at the door took him completely off guard.  He responded
poorly, spilling his coffee over his lap, and had it not been for his much
soiled dressing gown, he would certainly have burned his nether region. 
Instead, it might just have provided the necessary impetus for his dressing
gown to be washed. 

Malcolm’s visits were always unexpected and this time was
no exception.  He pushed his way inside much like he usually did, this time all
but dragging Devlin with him.  He coaxed Devlin to the couch and then made
himself at home at the desk.  Quicker than Conrad could object, he rebooted the
computer after first inserting a memory stick into the machine.

“What are you doing, Malcolm?” Conrad asked desperately. 
“Do you have any idea how close I was?”

“Yes,” Malcolm replied with disinterest.  He typed as the
machine started, oblivious to Conrad’s confused mix of professional contentment
that he’d made independent progress and resentment that he may well have lost
much of it with a reckless reboot without first saving.  “Would it help if I
said you weren’t close?”

“How would you know?  And why’s Devlin here?”

“God knows!  Malcolm let himself into my car and told me
to drive.  He hasn’t said anything since, other than to direct me here.” 
Devlin accepted that Malcolm was too engrossed at the keyboard to contribute to
any discussion, so he continued.  “Of course, I was more than a little
surprised when we came to visit you, but I guess that I shouldn’t be surprised
at anything really.”

Conrad’s attention was divided between more than cursory
interest in what Malcolm was doing, unrestrained on his computer, and feeling
obligated to explain things to Devlin.  He knew much of what Devlin would have
to be feeling.

Devlin wriggled uncomfortably in his seat.  “Can one of
you please tell me what’s going on?”

Conrad looked to Malcolm, still madly typing away with the
screen angled so as to obscure the display to all but himself.  Malcolm held up
his hand to acknowledge the prompt, but continued to type one handed before
removing his memory stick from the slot and rebooting Conrad’s system.  “Done,”
he mumbled.

“So what’s going on?” Devlin reiterated.

Malcolm stood, rolled his shoulders and stretched his
fingers.  “Glen’s not a bad person.  You can make your own mind up about him, of
course, but his intentions are good.  Whether you can see it or not, he’s
trying to help you.”