A Vagrant Story (49 page)

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Authors: Paul Croasdell

BOOK: A Vagrant Story
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“Not a good time for that unwavering support of yours, Rum,” Sierra replied.

“I’m just saying-”

“Don’t!” Henry snapped. “This isn’t funny.”

“Never said it was. All I‘m saying is this guy does have the brains to get his way out of this. Hell, he planned all this from the start. Those clothes he gave you … how he tricked you into running away from the police … he set it all up. I‘d reckon he was the one who put the cops onto you in the first place.”

“That’s true,” a familiar male voice spoke from the doorway.

The doctor named Adam entered the room, dressed in civilian attire and limping on a crutch. He made way to the centre of the room so they could all see him.

“The police haven‘t been filled in on the whole story yet.”

Rum eyed him over. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something about that? Don‘t tell me sociopath runs in the family.”

“I’m … going to tell them what I know … but I wanted to talk to you all first. I think I owe you some explanation for all this. It‘s true … my brother was the one who called the police when you came here first, but it wasn‘t really part of his plan. He messed up and had to adapt.”

“Speak clearer doc,” Rum said

“Those pills my brother used on his victims, he robbed them from the hospital. Eventually members of staff began noticing the pills going missing and they were obligated to report it to police. It turned out the missing pills were the same as those used by the serial killer. They checked into it and found they’d been going missing on my brothers watch. So … naturally he needed an explanation.”

“He needed a patsy.”

“He told police that on more than one occasion he’d noticed a young homeless man rooting through our medication cabinet. Since police already suspected the serial killer to be a homeless man they ate it all up without too many questions.”

“I can imagine,” Rum said. “All that time without any leads must have had them desperate.”

“Eventually the questions began to mount against my brother. As he was the only witness to these apparent thefts they returned consistently for updates. That’s when my brother realised he needed to turn his imaginary character into a real person. He decided to create a genuine suspect. Henry just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It might have been anyone. All that really mattered was giving the police enough to suspect his patsy while making sure they never actually managed to get hold of him, or speak to him.”

“And that’s why he helped me escape. He made me believe he was helping me … when really he was framing me.”

“The idea was to let you get away. By the time they’d catch you, if they ever did, you’d likely have forgotten all about my brother’s influence. That is, if you didn’t try covering for him out of sympathy.”

“Henry would never do that!” Alex interrupted. “Would you, Henry?”

Henry slumped in his seat. Sighing, he bowed he head into his chest. “Thinking about it now … I think if the police caught me I’d have been so grateful to the doctor … I’d probably have covered for him. He’d have gotten away with it. I’m … such an idiot.”  

Sierra looked his way. “You’re not an idiot, Henry. You’re just a trusting guy, and he took advantage of that. It’s his fault. He’s a manipulative freak. No one should ever have to anticipate something like that in their lives.”

“But he chose me … no one else. Just me. He knew I‘d fall for it.”

“Hey doc,” Rum said. “If you knew about the whole setup, then what about the…”
Adam glanced around the room, staring down to his feet then to an empty chair. He pulled it to the foot of Rum’s bed to sit down. “I knew what he was doing. I found out about the murders.”

The room silenced in a wave of surprise, confusion and all round anger. The latter being the only necessary emotion for Rum’s response.

“You knew … all this time you knew he was the serial killer and you didn’t say anything! Eighth people are dead. It was almost ten tonight!”

“I’m not going to make excuses. I found out roughly around the time of the fifth murder. See, we live together and those boxes you found on the rooftop … he used to keep them in our flat. One day, when I’d been off work with flu I started rooting through the wardrobe for some medicine when I found a box stuffed inside a vent. It was full of his … pictures.”

“The question still stands.”

“I didn’t know what to think back then, so rather than doing anything I kept my mouth shut. Then … the sixth murder occurred and a second box appeared in the vent. That’s when I worked up the courage to confront him.”

“And a fine job you did. Last I checked those murders didn’t end at six.”

“He promised they would.”

“And that’s why you didn’t report him? Cause the murderous bastard made a promise!”

“Look … I know I should have acted sooner … but he’s my brother. He said he’d stop. He said things would change.”

“Whatever he tried change doesn’t matter, whatever happened happened. His punishment should be based on what he‘d done, not on what he was trying to change.”

“What happened did happen … it already happened. It should have been over … that’s what I thought. I believed he could stop, I really did. When I did tell him I knew about the boxes he promised to take them away and have them destroyed. He said it would end then. Obviously, it didn’t work out so.”

“So he hid them on the roof … here,” Rum concluded.

“Why up there?” Alex asked. “Why not somewhere - I don’t know - safer.”

“I couldn’t say. I guess he must have been storing them temporarily. Then again, there aren’t too many places to hide something like that, so why not up there on the rooftop? Considering the lack of cameras, the snow, and the all round inaccessibility it’s a pretty safe place.”

“Except from his own brother.”

“I never found the crates.”

“Then how’d you know they were up there?”

“I didn’t … not really. I’ve told you before … most of the time my brother and I are the only ones working these top floors. Makes sense I’d notice him heading up to the rooftop once every few days. I knew something was there … I decided I didn’t want to find out what.”

“So you dug a sand pit and stuck your head right in - nice, real heroic,” Rum said.

“I’m trying to fix things.”

“Now? Why not sooner!” Rum yelled.

“Come on Rum. That‘s enough,” Alex pleaded.

“Don’t ‘come on’ me Alex! This whole thing could have been avoided if this sorry jackass grew some goddamned balls and told the cops! To hell with you … don’t bother apologising to Sierra or Henry, least of all me. It’s too late … you want redemption, go tell the cops before that schizo brother of yours spills his own sob story.”

“He’s my little brother. I … wanted to protect him.”

Rum sprang upright in his bed with a rage stronger than the aches in his joints. “So who you gonna protect now? My friend ain’t no patsy.”

Sierra reached a hand from her bed to his shoulder. “Calm down. You need rest.”

“I oughta beat the crap out of this jackass right now. He’s just as bad.”

“I wouldn’t have come here if I wasn’t going to help you. I‘ll tell the police about the boxes on the roof. I‘ll tell them everything.”

“Will you tell them you knew about the murders?”

The doctor nodded.

Alex acknowledged Rum. “That good enough for you?”

“You know the sad part … if we never came back here this clown never would have said anything. Make sure you tell them that too.” 

Alex sighed. “It’s probably better if you just go.”

The doctor bowed his head, edging slowly to the door. Resting his hand on the frame, he stopped with his back to them. “That’s not entirely true you know. Alex … remember the woman who died after the car crash? My brother was assigned as her doctor. He made impossible screw ups … that’s why she died. I’d like to think I’d have eventually told the police everything even if you didn’t show. Well … goodbye.”

The doctor stood a moment like an empty spirit, then turned, and left.

Rum allowed his body to slump back into the mattress. Unable to vent the pain caused by his sudden burst of movement, there came just one word: “Jackass.”

“He’s trying to fix his mistakes,” Sierra said. “Just be thankful we can at least get that much.”

Alex sat over the side of his bed. “Have to say though, when we first left Middle Park this is hardly the result I expected.”

“Tell me about it,” Rum said. “Next time I hear about some paranoid git who thinks everyone’s against him, I think I’ll be a little more open minded.”

“We still have to wait,” Henry said. “We’ll have to sit here and wait to see what the cops think of all this. Even if the cops buy our story tonight, there’s no guarantee we won’t be spending the next day in a cell.”

Sierra smirked. “Don’t get ahead of yourself … we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Once they talk to us, this’ll all be over,” Alex said.

“Not that I trust the cops in this city or anything but they’d have to be some incompetent louts to let that psycho off now. I mean, how bad can they be?”  

***

Two hours passed without word. Even those hourly visits from tight-lipped nurses appeared to have ceased. For the second time since coming to this hospital they felt like they were the only ones here.

Washed in a bleak aura of silence, Sierra sighed. “The police force of this city … truly an elite.”

The silence answered in its own humourless fashion. The bleakness of it all mostly emanated from Henry, who returned to his shoulder slumped position, head buried between knees.

“Come on Henry, it‘ll be fine. I‘m sure Adam went straight to the police,” Sierra said.

“How can you say that? If he did the police would be here by now? He probably got cold feet and ran off somewhere. You really think someone would sell out his own brother?”

“That brother … yes.”

“This always happens. Anytime I’m near when something goes wrong I get the blame. That’s just the way things have always worked.”

“I guess things could be worse, God knows it is for other people,” Alex said, getting out of bed slowly. He made way to the window and stared out.

“Should you be getting out of bed?” Sierra asked.

Gazing into the window, Alex watched the snowflakes tumble through the air, falling against his own reflection on the glass. “If another one dies will anyone really notice? It’s almost time, you know.”

“Time for what?” Rum asked.

“New Year.”

“So?”

“I wonder if John went through with it yet.”

“John?” Rum pondered a moment then came to realisation with foolish shuffling. “Right … John.”

“It slipped your mind?”

“A lot’s happened … can’t blame me … specially with the morphine and all.”

“We failed.”

“We tried,” Sierra stated. “All we can do is try. It’s more than some people do … it’s more than anyone else did for John.”

Rising from his misery, Henry looked to Alex. “It wasn’t a waste. We did do some good. At least … I think so.”

“Aye we did! Catching a serial killer marks one on the good things we did list,” Rum said.

“Yeah,” Henry said with a smile. “We did didn’t we. We caught a serial killer. The police couldn’t catch him … but we caught him. We caught him.”

Alex turned to them. “I guess God works in mysterious ways after all.”

“God?” Rum said. “Forget God, if God had anything to with this we wouldn’t have been set on that monstrous detour. The hell’s the point in doing things the hard way we could get there a lot faster? Forget God, I’m the only one you want to thank.”

“Sorry old Rum, I’ve given up on coincidences.”

Sierra smirked. “Speaking of coincidences … I ran into someone I used to know … my old foster mother.”

“Really, when?” Alex asked.

“The morning after we slept under the bridge. I took a walk around my old neighbourhood, and just sort of … ran into her. We talked for a while and then … well, she said I could move in with her … if I want.”

“And what did you say?”

“That I’d think about it.”

“And … have you?”

“Well … I have a home to go to now. Whether I move in with her or not, I’m not homeless anymore. So … seems the right thing to do.”

Rum pulled himself to an upright position. “I see. So you won’t be living on the street anymore … with us?”

“That would be the definition of no longer homeless. Yes.”

“Can you visit?”

“She lives way on the others side of the city. It’d be hard.”

Rum took it like a punch in the stomach. “I … see.”

“Don’t be like that. You won’t be homeless forever.”

“Says you.”

“Quit playing dumb you old bat. You honestly think I haven’t figured out that little dark secret of yours? How stupid do you think I am?”

“Secret? What? No idea what you‘re talking about.”

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