Charade

Vic

"Vic, are you alright?" Benjamin asked, looking at me from the passenger's seat.

I offered a sideways glance but said nothing.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

I took a long, deep breath.

"The hospital. I need to speak to my father. Perhaps he remembers something from the accident."

"He's awake?"

"He woke up last night. I was going to head over there this afternoon."

Benjamin nodded but remained quiet.

"It wasn't Eddie," I said. "It couldn't have been. Leaving a hostage alone in a car out in a public setting is too risky for such a prolonged amount of time. He wouldn't have done it."

"Then who?" I asked. "Someone we scammed? Who have we angered enough to do this?"

"I don't know," Vic said. "I burned my notebook when Eddie threatened us. There's no way to tell."

Benjamin leaned back in his chair, defeated.

"So what now?"

"Artie," he said. "He's our best bet. And who knows? Maybe he isn't completely useless, after all."

***

When we walked into Artie's hospital room, he was lying awake in his bed, staring up at a twelve-inch screen in the corner of his room. He looked at us, smiled, and then frowned. It didn't take an ex-conman to see something was wrong.

We sat down and told him everything. He nodded calmly. I could see his eyes shift, processing, analysing, and filing the details away. It was identical to the way he looked in the old days, when it was just the two of us and a city of walking ATMs. And as much as I hated it, I couldn't help but think that look was identical to my own.

"Did you recognise him?" I asked sometime after.

"No," he said, eyebrows furrowed. "He did seem familiar, though."

"Seems to be a common occurrence," I mumbled, remembering how familiar Benjamin and I had found him.

"I did see his face, though."

My eyes flicked up.

"You did?"

"Yeah. When he was... after we... after we crashed, he got out of his car and came over. He pulled me out. I thought he was trying to help, but he didn't say anything. He pulled out a knife, grabbed my arm, and started carving me up. I was barely conscious. I didn't feel a thing. But I saw him. About my age. Grey hair. Blue eyes. Actually, he had crow's feet eyes – you remember, Vic, the kind our neighbours had when you were little, that wrinkled badly in the corners. Like that. Oh, and he had a walking stick."

"Did he say anything?" Benjamin pressed.

"No, nothing. But I've seen him before. I know I have."

I sighed and nodded to myself, letting the information sink in. Everybody's seen him, nobody remembers him. The thought made me wonder. What if this man was hiding in plain sight? Maybe he was a customer in Wuster's or a cashier in the supermarket. Maybe I'd seen him every day and never looked twice. Maybe I still was. Grey hair, blue eyes, sixty, Irish, had a walking stick. Who did I know that fit the description?

We left soon after, not wanting to stick around longer than need be. As we walked through the empty car park, I saw Benjamin side-glancing me. I sighed. I guess we had to talk about it sometime.

"I'm sorry I went off at the cashier," I said.

"I know," he replied. "What I'm more concerned with is how you're holding up now."

"Fine."

"Don't lie to me," he snapped. "Tell the truth."

"I am."

"No, you're not." He protested as we got into the car. "Vic, please. You know that we're in this together and so I need to know how you're doing. I need to know if you're gonna snap and kill some poor cashier boy and I need to know if you can handle yourself around important situations. Please, Vic. I know you're not good at this, but I need to know. So tell me, what do you feel?"

"What does it matter how I feel? How I feel is not going to save Lily. There are more important things to discuss."

"It matters because I don't even know who you are anymore!" Benjamin yelled. "You're always the one who is calm and knows what to do. But now you're out of control. And I don't know what I'm supposed to do and I don't think you do either and now Lily is gone and – and – "

"Okay, stop." I said. Benjamin's frantic eyes met mine, and I was convinced he was on the verge of a panic attack. "We just... We'll go back to the cabin. We'll look for clues, evidence. Something is bound to turn up."

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I sucked in a breath and looked away from Benjamin. A picture loaded on my screen. I squinted at it. It was Lily, bound and gagged, with her big eyes staring up to the camera. The person behind the phone held a knife in front of it, his weathered, tanned hand holding up a blade. The only words written:

I'm going to slice every inch of her body, and there is nothing you can do stop me.

I looked up at Benjamin, who looked up at me, and I felt any lasting sense of sanity being ripped out of my gullet.

© A.G. Travers 2015