Robert Bennett - The Company Man

“And then they were murdered to keep it quiet?”

“Maybe. This is all just guesswork, Sam. But I think that feels right. It hangs together. I would want to look. What else is there?”

“Well, there’s this Colonel character who’s all over it. Apparently Tazz-or Crimley, or whatever-he contacted him to run this operation on the recommendation of whoever was running things at McNaughton. But I don’t know who this Colonel is besides that he was brought in by some Easterner figure, who seems to be everywhere throughout the files.”

“What do we have on Easterner?”

“Oh, he gets paid pretty frequently,” said Samantha. “And he gets paid well. It says in certain places that the amount routes through a Dutch merchant bank, then a Rabb Real Estate company in Chicago, then through a shipping company in California, and then finally an industrial canning complex here. It’s ludicrously complicated and I…” She trailed off. Hayes had gone very still, his face slack.

“Oh, God,” he said softly. He blinked once, confounded.

“What? What is it?”

“That’s me,” he said. “That’s how my money gets to me. I’m… I’m Easterner.”

“ You are?”

He nodded. “Yes, I check… I check every couple of months.”

“Oh!” she said. She thought about it and gave a brief whoop of laughter. “Well, that would make sense. But who’s Colonel, then? It says you brought him here and they made the contact through you, so…”

A queer look came into Hayes’s face. He bowed his head and one hand sought the wall for support. “No,” he murmured. “No, they couldn’t have found him.”

“Found who? You know who it is?”

“Yes,” said Hayes faintly. “Yes, I know who it is. An old friend. One I got out of a spot of trouble, and one I hoped I’d never see again.”

“Who is he?”

Hayes just shook his head. He seemed so shocked by the revelation that he was beyond answering.

“But can you find him?” said Samantha. “Can you find him and see what Tazz was bringing in?”

“Maybe.” He shook his head again and sat down on the bed. “God. If I had known what that file would give me I’d have never gone through the trouble to get it.”

“What did you go through, out of curiosity?” Samantha asked idly, picking up the files.

“What? Oh. I just dug up an old contact. Or a target, really.”

“Yes, but who?”

“Mmm,” said Hayes, still lost in thought. “You remember the man I told you about a while back? The man Brightly had me follow, even though there wasn’t anything on him?”

Samantha slowed to a stop among the files. Her back was turned to him. “The man who… The one who was going to that place with the children?”

“Yes. Montrose. Teddy Montrose. Turns out he was still around. I put the burn on him and he hopped to it. Rather convenient, really.”

“You used him?”

“Yes. It was all short and sweet. Thankfully.”

Samantha turned around to look at him, mouth half-open in outrage and horror. Hayes was calmly picking at something in his teeth. It took him a moment to notice her.

“What?” he said.

“And what did you do?” she whispered.

“What? What do you mean?”

“What did you do once you got the files? Once you got what you wanted?”

“Do? To him?”

“Yes.”

“Well, nothing. I turned around and walked away.”

Samantha swallowed. Her hands bunched into fists at her sides, knuckles going white and wrists trembling. She looked away as a snarl wove through her face, and she moved as though she wished to leave. Then she suddenly stooped down and picked up a file and threw it at him with both arms. He raised his hands to protect himself and the folder burst open, pages flying out to twist and turn and rain on him like snow.

“Hey!” he cried. “What the hell are you doing?”

Samantha moaned in fury. She reached down and snatched another file and hurled it at him as well. It missed and thudded into the wall, bleeding papers over the bed.

“Stop, stop!” Hayes shouted. “Stop it, for God’s sake!”

“What am I doing!” she said through clenched teeth. “What am I doing! You little… you little oily shit!” She grabbed another file off the tabletop and was about to throw it when it fell apart in her hands. She gave up and rushed over and began slapping him about the neck and head. He covered himself with his hands.

“Sam, what the hell! Calm down!”

“You let him go!” she shouted at him. “You let him go! You let that man go after what he did, after what he did to those children! You dealt with him and then let him go!”

“I had to!” said Hayes, still covering himself from her barrage of slaps. “I had to use him!”

“But you let him go! You should have… you should have…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“Should have what?” Hayes said, standing up. His face was a bright, angry pink. “Should have taken him to the police?”

“Yes!”

“And said what? That I followed him and found him buggering children off in Dockland? And that no, I don’t have any evidence? And that no, I’d be unable to testify? And that why yes, I’d done the work on the part of one of the most powerful men in the city? Is that what I should have done?”

“Something! You should have done something!”

“Like what, shoot him? Should I have burned down that place in Dockland? Freed all those boys? Given them all a dollar and said here you go, now you’re all good? Sam, have you ever even wondered how such a place is still open, and who they’re paying?”

“He was a monster!” Samantha cried. “A monster! And you used him and let him go!”

“I had to!” Hayes said savagely. “I had no choice. I needed those goddamn files and they’ve turned up gold, now haven’t they? Haven’t they? If we work this to the bone, won’t we get something good for you and Garvey? Something to set things right?”

“But those children were victims!” said Samantha. “Innocent victims!”

“We’re all victims!” Hayes shouted. “All of us! You, me! Garvey! Victims of McNaughton, of the Department, of Dockland, of this whole fucking city! You can’t save every single one of them, not when we can’t even save ourselves!”

“You’re as bad as Brightly. Using that man, that thing as you wish.”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” she said. “It’s all just an excuse to you. To just do as you please. To enjoy yourself.”

“It isn’t,” said Hayes. “It’s not.”

“You don’t even care, do you? This isn’t about any crime. None of this ever was, for you. It’s about paring people down, digging under their skin, and proving that deep down everyone is as weak and filthy as you. How odd it is that the one man who should by all rights know more about people than anyone else is so utterly incapable of being one.”

“Fuck you,” snarled Hayes. “What are you doing it for, then? For Garvey? Just for that?”

“No,” she said.

“Then what?”

She hesitated, then said, “For the boy.”

“Boy? What boy?”

“God,” she said. “You don’t even remember, do you? Skiller’s son. The little boy.”

“Him? Why?”

She faltered then, and some of the color drained from her face. “I just… I know it’s stupid to hope. A little boy on the streets of this city? How long could he last? But somehow I always hope that in following up all this union business I’ll find him somewhere in it. Maybe there’s a chance. After all, I’m probably the only one looking for him.”

Hayes stared at her. Then he looked away as though bitterly disappointed and shook his head. “Sometimes you make me feel so… so empty,” he said. Then he looked at the mess on the floor and said, “Here. Help me clean this up.”