Day 160 - Upside Down- Chapter 8 - (3423 words)

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UPSIDE DOWN, BACK TO FRONT

By Wayne Webb

CHAPTER 8

After

“So what can you tell me?”
“About what?”
Evasiveness, immediate and distinct.
“Anything.”
“You’ll have to be more precise.” James folded his arms and sat back, not looking up in arrogance, but down in defense.
“You seem to not want to be helpful.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” James unfolds his arms and looks to the side, embarrassed? “It’s been a hard couple of days.”
“I can sympathise.”
“Can I go then?”
“Well I said I can sympathise, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do my job.”
“Right. Of course not. That would be … too human of you.”
The detective did not need to be a master of human behaviour to see what was going on.
Something, maybe related maybe not. James did not want to be here or do this.
“What did you think of your boss?”
James blinks, not expecting the question in this order, had he skipped suspicion and gone straight to looking for a murderer or three?
“Why?”
“He’s dead, under… extreme circumstances… and I want to know what you think of that. What you think of him. Would anyone want him dead?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know what everyone else thinks, I mean thought, of him.”
“But you had an opinion, so tell me what it was.”
“He was driven, and tough as a boss. And he could…” James tailed off, hs face reddening and tears welling unexpectedly. Was it relief, fear or shock at work? He blinked them back and sniffed.
“ he could be a bit of a prick at times… is that right?”
“I never said that.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“It sounded like that’s what you were saying.”
“…and yet, that’s what your friend had said. Your friend Samir. Is that right?”
James shrugged and moved about uncomfortably.
“You disagree that Greg was…”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Well he was a bit of a prick. But I don’t see Sam saying that. He’s too nice a guy for that.”
“Did you hate him? Your boss?”
There’s a flicker of something behind his eyes for a second, something fleeting but reactive.
He struck a chord.
But with what he didn’t know. This didn’t feel like a murderer and this wasn’t adding up. It’s not always the crime that wants to stay hidden. The truth is a tricky thing. It was to hide, it wants to be seen and it wants to control the situation.
Evidence of a lie is not evidence of a crime.
A lie, a body, a million dollars and these two guys.
Something does not add up.

Before

Sam was nursing his beer, he was a big man and did not really need to worry too much about the effect of it on him, yet he constantly did. One or two, then stop. As socal as you like but take your time, drink with others sure, but there’s no need to keep pace and his friends had given up on trying to make him. The beer had reached that point where it was not longer cold or bubbly, far from it’s most enjoyable state but perfect for Sam, as slow sipping was the way to bear it but still get the mellowing effect of the alcohol in a controlled time frame.
It didn’t help matters that he was at his sister’s house and on his own.
Manisha had invited him over because he was her baby brother. Their parents had died a few years back and she had automatically assumed the matriarchal role, they had no other siblings and neither of the had children. She felt a need to be there for him and to be the family he needed.
He didn’t need it. He did like it.
He had James, he was like a brother to him in most ways. He never had a brother but assumed that he would be as close, as bound to him as he was with James. But for a confluence of genetics he had no brother in blood, but one in spirit.
Manisha sat next to him, patting his hand.
“He’ll be here soon.” She was looking up the driveway as they sat on the deck, looking at the horizon where the concrete crested the road above them alnost willing her words to prophcey.
No one.
“What’s that?”
“He’ll be here soon, he’s always late for some reason or another. He gets…” She searched for the most diplomatic way to say self-absorbed. “… caught up in things.”
“You … like in capers? Adventures?” Sam is teasing but his sister is not in the mood. Defense of her newly wedded husband aside, she was beginning to think he needed some correction and reminders of his obligations.
His duty.
He provided well, better than she expected from his business consdering what she saw of it.
A man is more than a collection of the jobs he does, the place in the world and his place in the home. He was the man, of course he was. That was the attraction, beyond the purely physcial one of a strong and virile confidence. He stood up, was noticed and did things with a deliberation that lead people along. Swept them in the tide.
He could be pushy, too much sometimes.
He could learn though, he would have too and that was her place in the world and in the home.
“This lateness will have to stop.”
“I don’t mind.” Sam really didn’t, he was unsure of Ivan and had never warmed to him.
He didn’t really warm to that many people. He didn’t actively dislike them, he just didn’t warm. At work he had a few people that talked to him, though he only lightly engaged with them.
He knew more than he needed, wanted to know.
“I mind. I’ll mind him to be on time when he needs to be.”
“I’m not fussed, I’m not on any timetable. Really.” Sam looked at this beer, the liquid from the neck is gone, but the bottom of the bottle seemed miles away. At least when Ivan turned up he had some credit in the bank, so to speak. Ivan could be demanding about what he expected from Men.
They were roughly the same size, but Sam moved quietly and was more like a cloud in the sky. Up close you realise the power and strength in it, but Ivan could be heard like an approaching train. The ground in you would shake to his proximity.
“No, he has a business and employees and he manages to be on time for them.”
“Well he has one employee, and he’s like an apprentice or something. His Dad is, well his Dad just hangs out for the company. That’s not really the same thing sis.”
“No.” She did like that part of him, the commitment to his family, to his father who was now alone in his old age. Ivan kept him around like the family dog, going blind in one eye. He’d hang around the garage, getting sly sideways looks that are full of care and attention like you need to know where he is and that he’s ok.
Family is important.
“Family is very key to me. He needs to be on time for this family, for me …” Manisha looks at Sam. “ … and…”
“No? Really? Congratulations.” Sam put his beer down and hugged his sister tightly, then let go concscious of the life in between them now. “When?”
“It’s only been a few weeks but I wanted to be sure and safe and that …. Well things look ok for now. There’s so many things and scans and tests and … I can’t think how Mum and Dad dealt with all this. I don’t remember any of it when you were on the way.”
“You were 3 when I was born. You don’t remember anything except what they told you.” Sam laughed playfully, his sister’s matriacrchal needs had always amused him.
Maybe now that there was another in the family, it may get… deferred?
“I remember more than you!” She playfully punched him in the arm.
“Whatever sis, whatever. When’s dinner?”
“It’s …” Her mood changes again, reminded that her husband is still not there, even though the food is.
Sam senses the change and regrets making comment, highlighting it again. He just wants a nice quiet dinner, then leave early enough that he and James can catch up for a drink and a chat. He was safer with James, and didn’t need the alcohol so much as the company.
It was time for a change. Time to move on. Greg was getting worse by the day and the people who talked at him every day ahd dropped hints. About the company, their future and that his friend was in the sights at work. They needed to discuss this, they needed options.
Sam’s phone chirruped and buzzed in his pocket.
“That’s odd.” It was James’s number incoming.
“Why?” Manisha and James knew each other, her bother had been friends with him for years. They did not cross over much but they knew each other well enough to be comfortable in their presence.
“I was just…” Can’t say just thinking about him, people think he’s gay enough already. “ … He’s on a job tonight. Filling in with Dave, Dave’sa hopper in one of the other crews but his driver is sick I think. One of those things that’s going round.”
“Hi.”
“You free?”
“I’m at Manisha’s, we’re waiting for Ivan to come home and we’re having…”
“Invite him over, there’s plenty to go round, I made more.” Manisha tugs on his sleeve hoping to get James to spend time getting to know Ivan too. James was much more sociable and Sam always became more chatty when his friend was around.”
“Yes, yes, Manisha wants you to come over afterwards, after your job’s done – we have…”
“Yeah, I may do that. I could use a drink. There’s been a bit of a thing here.”
“A bit of a what?”
“Fire, the truck was on fire. I’m waiting for the ambulance now.”
“Jesus! Are you ok?” Sam sat upright and his whole body tensed like a steel bar, Manisha could feel the raw energy of fear ramrodding her brother’s frame and for one small moment he dd not seem like a baby brother but a real man.
That feeling passed quickly.
“No, it’s not me – it’s Dave – he was in the back. He’s not burnt or anything, but he’s breathed in all this black shitty smoke from the fire, it’s in the electrics somewhere. We put it out really quickly with the extinguishers but he’s having trouble breathing so I called an ambulance.”
“Fuck, does Greg know?” In the ensusing silence while James though about his boss they both knew that an unpredictbale and irrational reposnse would be forthcoming when he did, but they could not afford to not find out what that was.
“Haven’t called him yet. Am about to, just thought if you were nearby you could come and help me watch the Van, I can’t drive it and dispatch said that the other two were out and would be like 30 40 minutes away.”
“Give me five.”
“Ok.”
“Oh an plan on having dinner here with us.” Sam checked himself as he said it and he recalled the point of the evening. “You can meet Ivan.”
Forced enthusiasm was at least enthusiasm, right?
“See you soon.”
Sam closed the call and pocketed the phone, grabbing his jacket and stepping off the drsk to the stairs.
“Ive got to go, but I’ll be back, maybe he’ll be here then?”
It was unfair to dig a little at his sister but he did it anyway, but she was more concerned about his friend than her feelings. James was as close as family anyway.
“What happened?”
“A fire, apparently.”
“Oh my god!” Her hands flew to her mouth in horror, she was not sure why but she felt like crying.
“No, no he’s good, he’s ok. It was a small fire, but the other guy – Dave got a little smoke damaged and the truck is … he needs two people on the truck until the replacement frees up. Gotta go, I’ll txt or call if there’s a delay or if…”
As Sam gets to his car his brother in law walks up.
“Jesus, how late am I?”
Sam opens the door and gets in, not being impolite but not slowing either.”
“There’s a problem with a work truck – I’ve got to go secure it – I’ll be back.”
“Need a hand?” Ivan’s offer was warm and genuine.
“No, I got it – see you soon.”
Sam starts the car and drives off watching Ivan stand at the top of the drive scracthing his chin and looking down to the house, and back to Sam driving away.
Something was there, but he brushes it away and heads to help his friend.
Before
What was only a few hours later Sam and James saunter down the driveway to find Ivan sitting on the deck at the table eating with his wife. They spot the two men waling up and Ivan stands and extends a hand to James.
“Ivan, I’m Manisha’s husband.”
“James, I’m Sam’s”
“What?”
Sam rolls his eyes and clips James across the top of the head.
“You’ll have to excuse him. He’s had a hard day and that means he thinks he’s funny.” Sam eyes him.
“He’s not.”
“Right. Ok then.” Ivan looks at Sam and hands him his beer, “ Untouched, just opened before you got here and I haven’t even had time for a sip. Go for it, one for you James?”
“Just the One? Did Sam mention the shit day?”
Ivan laughs and claps the table hard, making his wife jump and start.
“Hah, I like this one!” Ivan chuckles and head to the fridge for more beer.
Manisha gets up and smiles at James indicating food would be out shortly.
The two friends slump down onto the wooden deck chairs, they’re not that comfortable but it’s not really a problem they care about.
Time to get off your feet, on your seat.
“You know he wants to fire you, you know that right?”
“I … I was thinking he might. I’m amazed he’s kept me on this long, he absolutely has hated me for a while now. I don’t know what it is, but we used to get on, he used to be ok and now, now it’s just… I don’t know. I would have left a while ago, but my options are limited. He’d totally fuck me on a reference if I left, I know it. He’s told me that before.”
“He’s a cunt.”
“Jesus Sam, watch your fucking language!” James was stunned at Sam’s use of the word. He didn’t think he’d ever heard him swear before. Everyone at work did, even Annie in dispatch, who was mostly quite demure. You became inured to it when you worked with Greg, where it was merely punctuation when he was talking but a visceral weapon of words when he was angry. Through all of that he could not remember Sam swearing at work, not even in frustration or despair.
“I don’t usually like calling people that. He deserves it, he just is.”
Even so, Sam does not repeat the epithet again, now that it’s there hanging between them.
“That’s a bit harsh.” James does not really think that it is, but some how he feels the need to oil the water and calm things.
“He deserves it.”
“Who deserves what?” Ivan returns with three Mexican beers all necked with limes, handing two to James. James looks up at him and signals his appreciation, and Ivan waiting for the opening impatiently delivers his line. “Wasn’t sure if you were joking about the gay thing, so …” hence the limes.
There is a polite laugh, and Ivan leans forward once seated.
“Who then?”
“Our boss.” Sam says very little.
“He’s a cunt from what Manisha tells me.” Ivan sits back again and takes a long swig through the wedge of citrus, wincing through the sweet sting and staring down the alcohol as it rushes to his veins.
“Ah, you’ve met him then?” James is amused, he’s learning more about his long standing friend. He not only can use harsh expletives about people, real people. He also obviously bitches to his sister about work at times.
“Nah, but he fucking sounds like one.”
“He is, but I was mostly shocked to hear Sam saying that.”
Dropped right in it Sam says nothing, and Ivan stares at him with… respect?
“So what was the thing? The thing you had to rush away for?”
“Accident at work.” Sam is still not sharing.
“Truck caught on fire, it was a fucking mess. Smoke and ash and shit everywhere. And Greg, hence our cunterly conversation, didn’t give a monkey’s about Dave. He only cared about the money.”
“Money?”
“The load, we were moving a cash load from the … well from one of our clients. It’s insured and everything, and it’s only a small load. I mean some of the bigger ones are hundreds of thousands, this – this was nothing.” James drains the bottle.
Ivan hands him the second. “Dave?”
“The Hopper. I was filling in as the driver on this run, we usually do the big one and Dave and his driver do the late one, the left overs.”
“This Hopper? He ok?”
“He’s in hospital, I think he may have had an asthma attack from all that smoke. Fucking Greg didn’t care at all, he just cared about the money. We could have been burned alive in there, if I hadn’t have heard him banging about that could have got out of hand pretty quick.”
“Those things can burn pretty hot you know.” Ivan is drinking, thinking and blinking quickly not really looking at the men in front of him.
“What do you mean?” James is carrying the conversation, Sam is watching.
“I’ve had a couple of armoured trucks in the shop, ones what have had crashes or faults. If they catch fire, it’s pretty hard to do, but a few years ago I had one, I worked on it, pulling it apart for the insurace company. The back half was on fire, and they put it out – it took some work, they were lucky it was near a station, and it was empty, no one as hurt but the way some of these things are put together.” Ivan shakes his head, wondering if they see the opening he does.
“I wouldn’t want to be in one if it did. Especially if it’s like out away from the fire stations, or stuck in traffic, isolated in some way.” Ivan dangles the bait, it’s an idea and an opprtunity. It’s not fully formed, but it’s getting there.
James looks at Sam, a glance passes between them.
“What do you mean?” Sam has joined in, thinking about the future, about what Ivan is hinting at, and what they need to do.
They need to make a change.
Any change right now would be hard, maybe.
“Y’see they are made to resist fire, they are made to resist shock and bullets and a whole bucnh of stuff. You need a pretty serious can opener to get into one. From the inside? That’s another story. Fire starts in there and the contents and the truck?”
Ivan leans back for the punchline.
“Toast.” He finishes his beer and gets up to go for another one. “The ones I have seen? Nothing left. Nothing. Could not even tell where the parts were, like someone had evaporated the back end.”

Leave them alone to think that over.