Minions (34 page)

Devlin was a man on a mission, or as much as was possible
in the passenger seat of the Detective’s car, returning to LastGasp’.  The
thought of Glen and his recruitment practices had left him determined to
confront Glen, and to his mind, the Detective was doing little more than
delaying the moment by driving at or even below the speed limit where a rush
was in order. 

He was fidgeting, and alternated between chewing his
fingernails and looking for distractions around the interior of the car. 
Inevitably, he sought a distraction to the quiet of the car.  The radio wasn’t
going to do, particularly with his thought processes higher functioning as they
were.   “I’m thinking,” he said.  “I’m thinking about what might be in Ikel’s
message, what he might say.”

“What about it?”

“I’m wondering what he might have seen fit to share,”
Devlin continued.  “And what might have died with him.  It’s just like Whitely
said, that knowledge comes with death’s release.”

“You might never know the truth,” said the Detective. 

“Whitely also warned me to understand the difference
between knowledge and truth.  I didn’t know what to make of his comment at the
time, but now I’m thinking he might be worth another visit.”  

“I thought I was just dropping you home.”  The Detective
wasn’t very convincing as he sighed after thinking a little.  “I guess he might
tolerate a little more company.”

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 73.
               
 

Devlin mistimed his walk from the car to Whitely’s home. 
His plan was to hold his breath for as long as possible, but this only forced
him to breathe deeply amid the detritus of the garden.  He marched into the
darkness of the hall corridor, lit erratically by the flickering of a
television.  “Whitely.  It’s us again.”  He edged towards the lounge room,
ambivalent to whether the Detective followed or waited outside.

Whitely was dozing in front of the television, but he
wasn’t too perturbed when Devlin turned on the reading lamp that extended over
his chair.  Instead, he just raised his eye-brows, as much to arouse his face
as acknowledge the presence of visitors.  When the Detective entered the room,
Whitely nodded in greeting but said nothing.

“Ikel’s dead.  He crashed his car tonight,” Devlin
announced aggressively.  He planned only that much.  He remained standing
expectantly, as if naively sure that Whitely would break into explanation. 
When Whitely started cycling through the channels of his television, Devlin was
less hopeful that anything would be achieved with the visit.  “Ikel’s dead,” he
repeated, more politely.

“Nothing I can do about that, but given that I could have
learnt that much from the news or phone, I’m assuming you have more to say than
just that.”  At last, he turned off the television in a deliberate final
movement and returned the remote control to his chair-side table.  “Ask away
Devlin, ‘cos I’ll be fucked if I’m going to guess what you need to know.”

“We’re interested in why Ikel and possibly David might
have died,” Detective Reymond offered.  “We want to understand what’s going
on.”

“Alan, I wanted to understand what was going on years ago
but I recall you told me that understanding wouldn’t change things, or help,”
Whitely was curt.  “So provided that you’re not formally or professionally
interested, go back to your baby-sitting and shut the fuck up.”

“Don’t we go back long enough for a little decorum?” the
Detective asked.

“Decorum has nothing to do with this, Alan.” 

“I could just as easily engage my interest formally …”

“If that were a possibility you’d have done it by now, but
you haven’t.  In any case, you and Devlin here will be clearer before too long
anyway.”

“There you go.  As of now, that comment there, I have
cause to be concerned for Devlin’s wellbeing.”

“Oh, fuck off Alan!  How long the fuck have you known me! 
Do you think that I’m going to cause this guy harm.”  Whitely was incensed.  He
gestured as if to present Devlin to an audience.  “Look at him.  He’s
oblivious, sure, but he’s not at risk!”

“You’re not the one who I’m thinking is going to do the
harm.”

Whitely cooled himself down a little before continuing,
his tone substantially more mellow.  “He’s not at risk from me or anyone that I
know of.  A few people’s suicides doesn’t mean that others are at risk, unless
you’re in the firing line.”

“OK.  So what has LastGasp’ and Glen got to do with this?”

“You especially don’t want to interfere, Alan.  I’ll not
say a thing against Glen, and that’s not out of fear or obligation, but out of
understanding.”

“Well I think ...” Reymond started.

“Alan, I don’t care for what you think, but I do care for
how Devlin’s understanding is progressing.  So how about you give it a rest and
let him talk.”

Devlin felt both Whitely and the Detective’s stares, “Ikel
was my friend.”

“Move on, Devlin,” said Whitely with a yawn.

“What about Tania?”

Whitely exuberantly writhed in his seat, his face beaming
with a smile that would have stressed most wounds on his face.  “What do you
know about poor Tania?”  He spoke while reaching for a few tissues. 

“Only that her brother was killed.”

“Tania’s probably learnt that all the remorse in the world
doesn’t change what’s happened,” said Detective Reymond.

“Thanks Alan.  But this isn’t about you.”  Whitely said politely. 
“Go on, Devlin.”

“There’s not a lot more to tell, except that her name was
magically singled out by the LastGasp’ Research Interface when I was expecting
it to reveal some pearl of wisdom about all of the past readers.”

“Indeed.”  Whitely waved to Devlin, as if to shoo him
away.  “So fuck off.”  He turned to face the Detective.  “Alan, I’d like a word
in private.”

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 74.
               
 

Before the interior light of the car faded, Devlin was
rummaging through the case notes that the Detective had left in the back seat. 
Even with the privacy afforded by the absence of the Detective he couldn’t make
any more sense of the notes than he had previously.  Despite his efforts, in
reality he was doing little more than killing time until the Detective returned
to the car.

Even in the dim light of the dashboard instrumentation,
Devlin could tell that the Detective looked different as he drove.  He looked
like a man content in maintaining a secret despite the lure of disclosure.  

Devlin tried to guess what Whitely could have said in
private to prompt the Detectives mood.  He waited for the Detective to say something
unprompted, even if it was just to clarify where they were headed, but instead
the Detective was unashamedly coy.  Eventually, he had to ask.  “So what did
Whitely say to make you so …” 

The Detective was in no rush to answer, and for a moment
Devlin considered re-wording his question, but soon enough the Detective nodded
as if to suggest that he had at least heard the question. 

“It’s private, and none of your concern,” the Detective
answered as his subtle grin gave way to a more professionally appropriate
expression.  “We just talked about my daughter.  That’s all.”  A reminiscent
smile returned to the Detective’s face. 

“You just seem upbeat, that’s all.”

“It’s just …” the Detective paused, as if struggling to
come up with the right words.  “I’m thinking that maybe it’s time for me to
retire.”

“What’s brought about the change of heart?”

“Who says it’s a change of heart?  If you hadn’t noticed,
I’m old enough.  Perhaps it’s time.  Whitely just made me think, that’s all.”

“He didn’t enlighten you further about where Tania fits
into all of this, did he?”

“Yes, and no.  You know it’s late, Devlin, and we could
almost continue this in the morning if absolutely necessary.  I’m sure we’ll
catch up then.”

“I’d really prefer to know now.  I barely slept last
night, and I won’t be able to sleep tonight without some closure.”

“Some people go for years without closure.  Maybe you just
need to learn some patience.”

“Patience I have, but I’m not sure that I’ve got the time
to wait for closure.  Conrad suggested that others came to at least some
realisation, much like I’ve done, just before they died.”  Noting that the
Detective was unperturbed, Devlin pressed the issue.  “Don’t you have an
obligation to at least sound interested?  What about Malcolm?”

“I’ve lost interest in pursuing Malcolm.”

“So what was it that Whitely told you that inspired you to
forget Malcolm and finally retire?”

“My daughter.”  The Detective began with a sigh.  “Whitely
and I were devastated when she died.  At the time, I was prepared to blame
everyone, anyone, but all the blame in the world wouldn’t bring her back.  I
might add that this came on the back of the death of my granddaughter, her
daughter, Whitely’s daughter.  As fuelled as I was with anger, there was
nothing I could do about it.”

“You said she died of an overdose.  So surely that much
was out of your control.”

“The overdose was part of it.  The fact is that she was
hit by a car as she savoured a drug induced haze before she fell unconscious. 
The car killed her, but as far as the coroner was concerned, it only hastened
her demise.  The driver was one Tania Wilson.  Ably assisted by a cocky young
lawyer, she even kept her drivers’ license.”

“I’m assuming that this is the same Tania Wilson.”

The detective nodded.  “They say that good things come to
those who wait, and there’s a small matter of karma too.  But I have to say
that I’ve been disappointed with my wait.

“Admittedly, there was more than a little irony in the
passing of Tania’s brother, and then that I was the one to break the news and
assume the role of ‘
hand holder
’.  But I’d moved on from my anger to
such an extent that I found myself incapable of really feeling anything.  I’d
waited for something good, but it never came.  The fact was that for the
duration of my wait, I had nothing, and something happening to Tania wouldn’t
have helped that.”

“It must have been a long, hard wait.”

“Like you wouldn’t know.  If I was feeling more
benevolent, I might also add that Tania’s had more than her share of sadness
too over the years.  Not that I felt for
her
sadness, but I understood
it.”

“So what did Whitely tell you about Tania?” Devlin asked
as they pulled up outside LastGasp’.

“Only that everything happens for a reason.”

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 75.
               
 

Angie formulated a plan.  It wasn’t the kind of plan that
Malcolm had talked about, but it was a plan nonetheless.  Malcolm had spoken
about his plans taking months to be completed, but her plan was either less
grandiose or perhaps it just needed a woman’s touch to shorten or fine-tune the
process.  Maybe it was just that he lacked the motivation, whereas Angie had
enough anger inside her to fuel anything that she cared to put her mind to. 

Malcolm had said precious little else about what he did. 
He never appeared before work or after work, or at any set time of the day.  He
just showed up, as if he was perpetually close by, evidenced by the fact he was
around at random intervals.  This hadn’t been a problem as she’d enjoyed both
the company and the passive protection that his presence provided.

If Malcolm had taught her anything, it was that there are
those that ‘do’, and those that get ‘done to’.  More importantly, he told her that
if she was being done to, then just braving up to the inevitability of it
continuing was not going to improve things.  That he’d said this when they’d
first met at the corner pharmacy was remarkable only because he hadn’t
mentioned the Police or Religion.  Other strangers she’d met would voice their
opinion, as if they understood anything of her situation.  As if they
understood either the physical or emotional toll of life in her shoes.  But
Malcolm’s advice was almost philosophically constructive, as if he really
understood what she felt.  She remembered feeling as if her life was on the
improve after that first meeting and she felt the same surge in positivity now.

Angie was saddened when she found Malcolm’s note.  Except
that the envelope also contained her home key, it could have been from anyone. 
The note did not contain an apology, but realistically she didn’t expect one.  Now
that she’d calmed down a little and was able to be a little more rational, she
accepted that he had nothing to apologise for.

On Malcolm’s recommendation, Angie promised to give Devlin
the benefit of the doubt.  She owed him that much.

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 76.
               
 

The Detective had driven off in a hurry leaving Devlin
alone with his thoughts, and a myriad of punters heading for one of the
brothels on either side of LastGasp’.  It was well after midnight, and for a
time he considered returning to his hotel in the naïve hope that things would
be clearer in the morning after a full night’s sleep.  Of course, that the
hotel would still be blockaded to him was going to be a problem, and one that
he didn’t feel like embracing.  The vibration of his phone in his pocket
however, sent his mind racing and reminded him that sleep was unlikely.  The
phone call was from Glen urging him inside, and Devlin smiled at the CCTV
camera above the LastGasp’ door and obliged.