The Dead Reckoner : Volume Two: Urban Underworld Read online

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to any actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 by Peter Sargent

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  THE DEAD RECKONER

  Part Two: Urban Underground

  “Know thyself.” Rosetta said as she walked across the log, keeping her arms outstretched to maintain balance. “It's kind of nonsense, Sam, don't you think? You go to all that work and what it does for you is leave to someone else the job of making you a fool.”

  “I guess so.” said Sam.

  He didn't try to cross the stream. It was narrow and not very deep, but it was full of sharp rocks. Instead he stood on the bank, tossing pebbles and watching them disappear down the toothy runnels and miniature waterfalls.

  He said, “Isn't it worth at least something if you're a better person?”

  “Now how does that make you a better person?” As she said this she stopped in the middle of the trunk and leaned her head over. Now she was showing off. “So you can know how you're going to screw up instead of surprising yourself? What good is that?”

  - Manoah's Regret, by John Smith

  THIRTEEN

  Jason wasn't yet out of diapers before the day his father died. The previous evening, Ruth was sitting at a computer in the Brighton police office, glancing now and then at an earring to see who might take it. The gold colored jewelery was on a table in the nearby break room. Ruth, a uniformed officer in those days, was nearing the end of her shift. She needed to make a copy of a file before she left. As she searched for it, she hoped that some woman might come by and claim the bait she had left in the next room.

  These two goals for her evening left her with two problems. First, the file was missing. Second, no one had even noticed the earring. Then she saw a young, pretty woman enter the break room. It was June, one of the evidence vault clerks. She poured herself a cup of coffee without so much as a glance at the table. Another fail. Ruth figured that perhaps June could help with the first problem instead. It was June's job, after all, to upload these files. Ruth called her over.

  “Sergeant Keller wanted me to help transcribe some audio.” said Ruth. “I can't find the file.”

  “Oh, you mean the Yancy tape?” said June.

  Everyone still called them tapes, even though they were just digital files now.

  “You know about it then?” said Ruth.

  “Sure.” June said. “Everyone's talking about it. Your man's a hero.”

  “I know.”

  “You could sound a little prouder. I mean, I know luck had something to do with it too. If Frank didn't look so much like Yancy's book man it wouldn't have worked. But it still takes brass balls to walk in there pretending to be the book man and pull it off.”

  “Well, the audio's not here.”

  “Let me see.”

  June leaned over and entered a search, as if Ruth wouldn't have done the same thing herself. Ruth noticed a strong perfume on her younger colleague. She was pretty sure it was a Victoria's Secret fragrance. It was very odd for the workplace, especially one such as this. Ruth knew, however, that June had a reputation.

  “You're right.” said June. “Maybe I didn't upload it. Let's go find the original.”

  She went off and Ruth followed. On their way they passed through the break room and Ruth snatched the earring. They went down to the basement and found themselves in the evidence vault. It was a tight space, with little clearance between the high density shelving and the walls. June spun the wheel to make the shelves ride down the track and open a space between the two of interest. She looked inside for the flash card containing Ruth's evidence, but found nothing. Ruth joined her in between the shelves and pulled out a couple more trays around the spot where the flash should've been, just in case. It wasn't there.

  Ruth checked the logs and saw something very disturbing. Someone had checked out the evidence. She had checked out the evidence, according to the log. It wasn't the sort of thing one could fake with ease. It wasn't a matter of forging a signature, but a matter of entering a PIN. Someone who knew her PIN had used it to take the audio recording.

  Ruth called for June.

  “Did Frank come down here earlier?”

  “Yeah, why?” came June's voice from behind the shelves.

  “About what time?”

  There was silence. After a few moments she appeared before Ruth with one hand on her hips.

  She smiled and said, “I heard he was at James' stag party tonight. Jealous?”

  “What does that have to do with my question?”

  “Do you ever smile, Officer Holland?”

  “You should see me at parties.” said Ruth. “I break them up.”

  The younger woman chuckled and let the arm on her hip go slack.

  “He was here around quarter of four I think.” she said.

  Ruth didn't like that answer. It matched the time in the log. Her husband, Frank Holland, another cop, had come down here and entered her PIN to obtain Keller's evidence.

  “June, did he take the Yancy tape?”

  “I would've told you if I knew that.”

  “June?”

  “What is it, Ruth?”

  Ruth squeezed the fist that held the earring. What she wanted to do was bring that fist right up to June's face and open her fingers. She wanted to confront this woman with the gaudy little stud and ask her – what? What exactly? As she felt the edges of the thing bite into her fingers she realized that she was going about this in the wrong way. She was angry at Frank and she still believed he was hiding something, but confronting this little waif wasn't going to get her anywhere.

  The officer breathed. She met June's eyes and then she spoke.

  “June. Do you know anything about the women Frank met while undercover?”

  “I see how it is.”

  “Word gets around to you somehow about things.”

  “I have heard rumors.”

  “Such as?”

  June smiled and turned her back on Ruth, walking back up the stairs.

  She said, “If I knew more than that, I would've told you already.”

  At the end of her shift, Ruth drove her squad car home and walked onto the porch. There were three doors, each leading to one of the three apartments in this building. She unlocked the one on the far left and went upstairs. She found her father sleeping on the couch. The TV was on. He awoke when she entered and stood to great her.

  “Frank went to the party.” he said.

  “Jason's asleep?”

  “Yeah,” said Dad. “But he had a hell of a time getting there; just tossing and turning. I swear he's like the princess and the pea.” Her dad put his hands on her shoulders and adopted a more serious tone. “Are you sure about Frank?”

  “That's a broad question, Dad.”

  “I get the feeling he's up to something. Are you sure he's at that bachelor party?”

  “If there's a party, I'm sure he's there.” said Ruth. “And I know there's a party.”

  “Interesting answer.”

  “Dad, I'm really tired.”

  “Sorry.” He said, sitti
ng down again. “Let me just finish this show and I'll head home.”

  Within a few minutes, Ruth's dad was asleep again. Ruth went in to check on Jason and saw something out the window. A black Dodge Ram pickup parked by the curb. She left the room and hurried down the stairs. She looked through the peephole in the door and saw the Ram's driver climbing out of his truck. He was a big guy, thick in his gut and limbs. He wore a vest with lots of pockets and under that he wore a flannel. Ruth couldn't see his face because he wore a fishing hat with a wide brim and his head was turned down.

  Then he removed the hast as he approached the door and Ruth saw who it was. She reached for her phone and started to dial.

  “I wouldn't call your colleagues.” came the voice through the door. “You will regret it.”

  He unbuttoned one of the pockets on his vest and pulled out a camera. After selecting an image, he held the screen up for her to see. There was Frank and his buddies walking under a sign reading “Centerfolds.”

  The man said, “I know who your husband is and I know where he is.”

  Ruth opened the door.

  “Hello Mr. Yancy.” she said.

  She lifted her shirt a few inches on one side, revealing the service weapon next to her hip.

  “I'm not alone either.” said Ruth. “My dad's upstairs and he's a retired cop.”

  “I have something for you.” said Yancy.

  With his free hand he reached into another of his vest pockets. When he pulled the hand out, it was closed into a fist. Yancy held the fist in front of Ruth and opened it. A gold colored earring rested in the palm of his hand.

  He said, “Frank is in the habit of losing things. I thought I'd