3 January 2013
I tried to take it all in. The trashing of the apartment, the vision of my wife at the end of the replay. It was too much. I stepped on the cigarette, shaking my head and trying to clear my thoughts. What in the hell was going on? The day had started with a routine convenience store robbery which was easily dealt with. My day was ending badly, with an apartment in pieces and a wife living at least a double life. This was going to take some solving.
CSI had finished an age ago. I didn't see them leave. In fact it was only when one of the patrolmen told me that I realised I could finally go back into the apartment.
Evening was arriving quickly, and a spectacular sunset was taking place. I could see it through my lounge window from the hole where the front door should have been, oranges and pinks and deep reds framed against a sky deepening in blue by the minute.
I wasn't going to stay here tonight. If whoever it was behind this really was after the disc, I couldn't run the risk of them coming back. I knew a motel I could stay where questions would never be asked.
I took myself on a forced tour of the apartment. This time I moved slowly, taking it all in properly. Earlier was all a rush, I reasoned, and there must be something that was missed. I went to the kitchen first. It was a mess, every cupboard had been emptied and the contents either ripped open or just scattered. But she knew me, obviously far better than I knew her, and she must have known that I would never hide anything in the kitchen. It was as if it had been trashed just as a matter of course. I went to the bedroom and the bathroom, both equally trashed. As I looked I realised that none of her things were there. Not that it mattered, I was pretty sure she wouldn't be returning to me anytime soon. But I remembered the replay, and it was in the lounge that the search had seemed most intense.
I remembered the flying books with their dusty vapour trails, and the ornaments, all lit by the halogen beams of their torches. But they hadn't found anything had they? And they wouldn't, if it was the disc they were looking for.
Another cigarette, and I sat and sank into the sofa. It was dark now and through the window I could see the streetlights blinking into life, banning the daylight, and turning the city into an entirely different kind of animal.
As I savoured the smoke, a thought hit me. It seemed so simple, a possible answer, or at least a lead. CSI must have checked it, mustn't they?
I put out the cigarette, and crossed the lounge to the home phone. I picked up the receiver and and pressed 'last caller redial'.
It surely couldn't be this easy.
'Hi, this is Lou's at 59th, can I help you? Hello? Hello?'
I didn't speak, and in fact it was the guy at the other end who put the phone down with a gruff 'Goddammitt...' .
Lou's? The cheap greasy wop hole on the other side of town? What on earth would she have to do with this place? Sure, she could have had lunch there, but it was doubtful, considering the clientele the place normally attracted.
But I hadn't dialled the number, and I didn't have proof that she'd dialled it either. The replay hadn't shown it. But she was in the replay, and someone had dialled the number. To my mind, this was a lead.
But it was too easy. Or at least it was designed to look easy. It was all bait, as if it had all been set up and staged just for me. And I was going to suck it up. Moving through the apartment I picked up some clothes and bundled them up in a bag. Standing at the doorway I looked back at the apartment. I really loved the place, but I knew I wouldn't be coming back. Shaking the thoughts from my head, I took my bag and walked down the single flight of steps to the sidewalk and then to my car.
I got in and threw the bag on the passenger seat. I turned the ignition, and without really looking gunned the mustangs roaring engine and pulled out into the nighttime traffic, attracting some furious horn abuse.
I'd go to the motel later. Plenty of time. Mo would have a room for me. Anything would do right now.
I felt my coat pockets. Wallet, badge, cigarettes, clips, gun. All I needed.
I felt my other coat pocket for the disc.
I had the feeling the people at Lou's would want to see it.
And as I turned onto 59th, I knew they'd get their chance...
Replay 3 • Opuss № I