Out of Promises (29 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY

In a basement five miles away from Hellman’s Business Centre, Matherson was being forced onto a chair.  He was blindfolded with his wrists were bound tightly to the chair arms, cutting off circulation.  Filtered light pierced through the material over his eyes from a single light bulb hanging down above him and cigarette smoke from an unknown person behind him tickled his nose.

The blindfold was yanked from his face.

It took a few seconds for his eyes to focus.  Looking around, he saw an open door showing a staircase with a stair lift leading back up into civilization while sound dampening foam peeled from the walls from years of neglect.  The rest of the basement was plain with nothing much standing out to him until he noticed a pile of children’s toys in a corner along with a small folded bed against the wall.

In front of him was a man in a wheelchair and he could sense someone else standing behind – the source of the cigarette smoke.  Like a standoff, neither man spoke first, both of them recognizing each other, not quite believing what they were seeing.

‘Preston?’ Matherson finally slurred with a swollen lip.

Shaking with excitement, Preston said, ‘Hi, boss.’

Matherson tried to refocus his eyes.  It must have been the dark, he thought.  But his eyes showed him the same image: Preston Swift in a wheelchair in front of him, smiling.  ‘You’re dead.’

‘Well, I would be dead if it wasn’t for Cyrus behind you.’

A puff of smoke surrounded him as Cyrus moved beside Preston.

Matherson looked him up and down.  ‘Your friend murdered Freddie, didn’t he?’

‘Sharpe, too.’

‘You murdered your own brother?’

‘No.  Cyrus did.’

‘You sick bastard.’

Preston said, ‘You murdered your own son did you not?  How is that any different?’

‘How do you know that?’

‘I have my sources.’

‘If you were alive, Preston, why didn’t you come back?’

He didn’t answer that.  He just sat there taking pleasure from the situation.

‘Why target Freddie?’

Preston chuckled.  ‘Wong’s murder didn’t go exactly to plan, did it?  Freddie did this to me.  That’s why I did what I did with Michael.  Freddie deserved to be punished for this...this fucking wheelchair.’

‘Punished?  You ruined his life.’

‘He ruined mine!’ Preston shouted.  ‘Look at me.  This fucking chair is bullshit.  But as it turned out, the end game is the same.’

‘What endgame?’

‘Your downfall.  Freddie wasn’t the beginning.  Murdering him was just a part of it and tying him to the cross was Cyrus’s genius idea.’

Cyrus grinned.

‘I knew Freddie wouldn’t join me so he had to be removed.  Many of your other loyal men are mine now and so are your businesses.’

This time Matherson stayed quiet, empty.

Cyrus flicked his cigarette at him.

Matherson flinched. ‘Why, Preston?’

‘You deranged old man.  You overlooked me too many times.  You didn’t even come and get me from behind Amber Heights.’

‘Sharpe went for you, but you were gone.  We were told you were killed by some thugs on the street.’

‘Sharpe came for me?  Oh the joys of brotherly love.  That the best you could do?  Sharpe couldn’t find his way out of this basement.  Did you ask him, or did he come on his own accord?’

Matherson stayed quiet, tense, the tape on his wrists tightening as he tried to free himself.

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘Sharpe loved you.  Your death tore him apart.’

‘That’s cool.’

Matherson just looked at him.

‘Oh, and I have Valerie well and truly covered.’

Cyrus smiled again. 
Valerie.
  Then his phone rang in his pocket.  He went to the rear of the basement and answered it.

‘Don’t you touch Valerie.’

‘I won’t.  Cyrus will.’

Matherson asked, ‘What are you going to do with me?’

‘Do you remember Northbrook?’

He stared at him, beads of sweat running down his face with the bulb above giving off a magnificent heat.

‘Cyrus was a boy there, just like Freddie was.  You sent us to murder children.  At the time, I was just a blind follower, happy to do your bidding.  But I have you to thank because if you hadn’t sent us there, Cyrus wouldn’t be here now and neither would you.  Seems it’s fate that brought us together.’

‘We can still work together,’ he begged.  ‘Together we can be the driving force for the city.’

Cyrus came back and whispered something into Preston’s ear.  He whispered something back, some sort of order.  ‘Make the arrangements.’  He then turned to Matherson and said, ‘I have a better idea.’

Cyrus pushed Preston towards the door.

‘Don’t leave me down her,’ Matherson begged.  ‘I don’t deserve this.’

Cyrus pushed him out of the basement, closing the door.

‘Don’t you leave me down here!’ he yelled.

The light went out and he was left alone in the dark with the only sound coming from the low hum of Preston’s stair lift moving farther away.

CHAPTER FIFTY ONE

Baker parked his unmarked sedan by the entrance to Hellman’s Business Centre and stepped out into the cold.  It was Baker’s first time here, but not McGowan’s.

‘This place has a history,’ said McGowan, looking up at the building.

‘I know.’

‘Matherson owns this entire building.  The other eleven floors have other businesses, all owned by him.  Legit companies.  Accountants.  Lawyers.  You know, that kind of shit.  They all checked out with no prior cases against them.  That’s how he works, hiding behind doors and looking through windows.  He sits at the top and peers down over the city like some kind of egotistical nightmare.  Murders and drug deals were loosely linked here, but nothing came of it.  It’s like Al Capone, except we don’t even have tax evasion against him.’

Baker already knew all of this from his undercover days and listened anyway without letting on.  Another interrogation from McGowan was something he could do without.

They walked inside.

‘This place is nice,’ said Baker, looking at the sparkling floors and walls.

‘You’re not kidding.  It’s changed a few times over the years.  You can change the face of crime, but it’s still there.’ He pressed the elevator button.  ‘Matherson is a real piece of work, isn’t he?’

‘Sure.’

‘You know, we could have used your undercover guy back then.’

Baker ignored it.

‘Rumour has it even the captain doesn’t know about him.’

Baker still ignored it.

‘Heard you were undercover yourself.  Some place further south?  Or was it north?’

‘Can we just focus on Matherson?’

‘I’d like to hear his excuse for Wong’s murder.’

Both sets of elevator doors opened.

Baker pointed at the door to the end of the hallways.  ‘One of us should cover that fire exit.’

‘Why?  He doesn’t know we’re coming.  We’re only asking him some questions.  I’d like to see his excuse.  Wouldn’t want to miss that.’

Baker did too and remembered what his undercover guy had said about Michael’s murder, Freddie’s childhood and him joining the organization, and how he was basically alone to deal with it.

Valerie watched the numbers above the elevators count up.

Shit.

‘They’re on their way up,’ said Bill.

She left him standing and moved to the fire exit, which didn’t budge.  Bill tried too with the same result.

‘Wow, thanks for doing exactly what I did,’ she said.

He tried it again and it started to give.  Years of lack of use had made it stick.

Bill looked at the number above the elevators, now on eleventh.

Valerie took a run up and slammed the door open.

The alarm sounded.

She darted down stairs alone.

Inside the elevator cab, the yellow emergency lights came on and the fire alarm sounded loud and clear, humming on and on in a continuous mind numbing drone.

Baker shouted, ‘The fire stairs.’

‘You think Matherson is running?’

Baker shrugged.

McGowan yelled, ‘When we reach the top, you take this back down and I’ll take the stairs.’

‘You shouldn’t be alone.’

‘I can manage.  You just cut him off downstairs.’

He didn’t like it.

The doors parted and McGowan stepped out.  ‘Go, now.’

Baker pressed the button for the lobby when, just as the doors closed, he heard McGowan shout, ‘Bill?’  But it was too late, the doors were closed tight and he was on his way down again.

‘McGowan?’ Bill said, holding the fire door open.

Valerie was now on the tenth floor.

McGowan took out his weapon, raising it to him.

Bill didn’t move.

Yelling over the fire alarm, McGowan shouted, ‘Don’t fucking move, Bill.’

Bill looked back at him.  One man with a gun standing alone in the reception.  ‘You haven’t changed, McGowan.’

‘Let go of the door.’

The numbers above the elevator counted down.

Bill said, ‘You wouldn’t shoot an ex-cop, would you?’

McGowan moved a foot closer.  ‘If I have to.  You were a good cop and you know my duty.’

‘I know I was.’

‘It’s a shame it’s come to this, Bill.  Three murders?’

‘I didn’t murder anybody.’

‘Let go of the door, I won’t tell you again.’

‘Sorry.  I can’t hear you above the noise.’

‘Where’s Matherson and his crew?’

‘Fucked if I know.’

‘Why did you do this, Bill?’

‘Do what?’

He stepped closer.  ‘Move to the other side.’

‘Because the Southbrook P.D. let me down and abandoned me.’

‘It was terrible what happened, but we can still make this work.’

Bill had heard enough.  Enough of the shit spewed by the Southbrook P.D.  ‘Goodbye, McGowan,’ he said and bolted through the fire door.

McGowan got a couple of shots into the door before chasing after him.

Almost at the bottom of the stairwell, Valerie dodged people running around in a panic.  She didn’t hear the shots.

The lobby was getting crowded.  People came out of one of the elevators while the other was stopping on every floor on its way down.

If there’s a fire, don’t use the elevators.
  That’s what she was told, obviously these people hadn’t been and she was grateful for that.

Outside, the air was still cold, the biting air crawling over her.  She saw the unmarked police car and looked in the ignition.  The keys were gone.

Shit.

She’d cut the tires if she had a knife and shooting them out would only cause more panic so she left it and ran over the parking lot’s slippery surface to the exit.

Two minutes it took her to reach the road, level footed and almost falling on her ass a few times.

She didn’t hear Bill shouting behind her and she didn’t look back.  She was through with him.

The road ahead was long.

Lucy must be at her parents’ house by now.

That’s where she was headed: to Lucy’s parents’ in Bakersfield.  She stuck out her thumb to hail an oncoming cab when her battered car slid to a halt and the passenger door flew open.

‘Valerie, get in,’ said Bill.

‘No chance, Bill.’

‘Get in the fucking car!’ he yelled.  ‘The cops are right behind me.’

She looked.  Baker and McGowan were coming up on them fast.

‘Fucking cocksucker Bill is going to pay,’ said McGowan.

Baker said, ‘Something doesn’t add up.’

‘Don’t start that again.’

The car’s tires slid left and right as Bill slammed the accelerator.

‘Look,’ said McGowan.  ‘If they’re not guilty then why are they running?’

Baker gave up trying to convince him, he didn’t even have the answers himself.

He stayed with Bill as he pushed through every red light on the way to the freeway, narrowly missing cars passing from left to right.

McGowan grabbed the radio.  ‘This is McGowan.  We need backup heading Eastbound along the Southbrook freeway from Hellman’s Business Centre.’

Swerving in and out of traffic, undertaking and overtaking, Bill moved into the fast lane.  Not managing to shake them.

Valerie glanced back through the rear window. ‘Maybe we should just give up.’

‘No way.’

‘Stop the car.’

‘Look, I know you’re pissed, but giving up isn’t an option.  You’ve committed crimes and you’ll go away for a very long time.’

‘At least you’ll be off the streets,’ she said honestly with a hateful glare.

The cops were still behind them.  A police chopper flew overhead, joining the chase.  Bill saw an exit, which would lead them into the city, between tall buildings with narrow corners.  A chopper pilot’s worst nightmare.

Valerie said, ‘You murdered Sharpe, didn’t you?’

‘This isn’t the time.  I’ll explain everything when we stop.  Just trust me please.’

‘I did trust you and look where it’s lead me.’

The streets of the city were busy as usual, more so with the lunch hour coming up.  It still didn’t slowing him down.

Baker followed suit.

Bill knew that other squad cars would join the chase soon, replacing the chopper.  He’d been in their position plenty of times in his career.  Roads would be blocked off, spike strips would be deployed, and he didn’t like to think what else.

The lights ahead changed to red.  He slammed on his brakes, and then accelerated again through a gap.

‘Shit,’ he said.  That had cost him time and Baker was almost touching.  In the side mirror, he watched them move alongside him.  The road ahead was almost clear and it was nearly time for Baker to safely take them out.

Five hundred meters ahead were some more traffic lights on red with cars waiting.

‘Bill, stop this fucking car.  Now.’

‘No chance.’

‘You’re going to kill us!’ she yelled.

The lights ahead went dark, like the power had been cut.

‘You see that?’ he asked.

She didn’t answer.  Instead she tensed up in her seat, bracing herself on the dash as she had on the way to Lucy’s.

Did he stop, or did he gun it through the crossing?  He did what he was always going to do; he gunned it, moving onto the oncoming side and speeding by the waiting cars.  He entered the crossing.  Baker did the same thing from six feet behind.

Half way across, an oncoming salt truck from the right was booming down on them.  Bill floored it, missing by inches.  Baker saw it too, but he had no chance and it smashed into the rear door sending the car into a three sixty degree spin, almost flipping them.  Airbags were deployed, the rear right wheel came apart and rolled away, and twisted metal and parts of the car scattered the road.  Other cars came to a sudden halt in all directions, some colliding into others.

‘Wow.  Did you see that?’ asked Bill, checking his side mirrors and not quite believing what he was seeing.

‘Just put this piece of shit somewhere and we can go our separate ways.’