Vigil Page 21

  No wonder he hadn’t dumped her torso in the bay.

  No wonder he’d kept her legs somewhere else.

  He hadn’t wanted anyone to know about her.

  He’d tried to hide her body.

  And that meant he’d slipped up somehow with her. Something about her was a mistake. I had to figure out what.

  * * *

  After work that day, I went by the law offices of Barclay, Barclay, and Quinn. They were located at the edges of the dock district, teetering between respectability and criminality. Which was basically what the law firm was. It tried to appear legit to the outside world, but the lawyers in the firm were actually quite corrupt.

  Like most crime families, the Barclay family had spread by putting family members in all parts of the community. There were Barclays in the church—priests who were just as corrupt as the rest of their relatives. There were Barclays in the courts—judges who gave light sentences. Barclays in the government, Barclays in high society.

  And there were Barclay lawyers. This was their firm.

  I’d gotten caught up in some unrelated work that day, a story that Lauren had assigned to me about stoplights. She said I needed to make sure I wasn’t getting too big for my britches with all these other stories. I was an intern. I needed to do some intern stories.

  I thought it would be easy enough, but it turned out that I had to chase the guy who knew all the stuff about the stoplights all over town.

  At any rate, by the time I made it to Barclay, Barclay, and Quinn, it was just starting to get dark. I didn’t know if the office would still be open, but I decided to try my luck.

  I walked up the steps to the front door and went inside.

  There was a woman at the reception desk right as I came in. She had dark hair, which was piled on top of her head in big, hair-sprayed curls. She was chewing gum.

  “Can I help you?” She had an accent, sort of Italian-urban.

  “Maybe,” I said. “I’m Cecily Kane, Aurora Sun-Times.”

  “Oh, yeah. I know you. You’re the one who writes about Vigil all the time, right?”

  Well, it was better than being the stripper. “That’s right. I’m doing a story on people in the city who’ve been missing for more than five months, and one of people I plan to feature is Maria Shaw. I understand that she used to work here?”

  She furrowed her brow. “Maria Shaw… Oh, yeah, I heard about her. I was actually hired to replace her, so I never knew her.”

  “Oh, you didn’t? You can’t tell me anything about her?”

  She shrugged. “Everyone seemed to like her a lot.”

  I nodded. I decided to take a stab in the dark. “You, um, know of any connection between her and Hayden Barclay?”

  “Hayden? Nope.” She shook her head. “You know you just missed him.”

  “He’s here?” That surprised me.

  “Yeah, he comes in every evening near sunset.” She pointed. “Always takes the stairs. Guess that’s how he stays in such good shape.”

  I looked over at the stairs she was pointing to. Hayden was in the building, huh? Why?

  “Look, if you come back tomorrow, Loretta will be here, and she and Maria were besties. I’m sure she’ll be able to answer any of the questions you might have.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I knew coming here so late was a long shot.

  I debated going after Hayden, but I didn’t do it. I couldn’t confront him. Not yet.

  I stepped out of the office and walked down the steps, back to the sidewalk.

  There was a crashing noise from the alley.

  Without thinking, I went to investigate. I guess it’s the reporter in me, always curious.

  Several steps later, caution kicked in, and I slowed, staying against the building and out of sight as I approached.

  “You’re out early tonight,” said a voice.

  I peered around a big dumpster.

  The voice belonged to The Phantom. There he was, completely in costume, his mask and cape and everything.

  Someone got to his feet on other side of the dumpster. “I’ve been looking for you. You’ve been hiding ever since the story about the legs broke. Spooked you, huh?”

  The Phantom sneered. “I don’t get spooked.”

  The figure stepped out from behind the dumpster. It was Vigil. Of course it was. He lunged for The Phantom. “Where have you been for the past few nights then?”

  The Phantom sidestepped. “Enjoying a few quiet nights in is all.”

  Vigil stumbled, his balance off. “Playing with the collection you have of all the other girls’ legs?”

  The Phantom laughed. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  Vigil righted himself. He stared at The Phantom.

  The Phantom stared back.

  The two began to circle each other, taking each other’s measure.

  I fumbled in my bag for my recorder. I needed to be recording this.

  “So you’ve been looking for me,” said The Phantom. “Finally growing a spine? Or are you still just a scared little rich boy in a mask?”

  Little rich boy? What? The Phantom knew Vigil’s identity?

  “I could say the same thing about you,” said Vigil.

  “That’s right,” said The Phantom. “We aren’t that different. Don’t forget it, Callum.”

  “You won’t let me, Hayden.”

  He did! They both knew the other’s identity.

  “You know,” said The Phantom, “there’s lots of times I’ve thought about blowing your cover. I could run to the papers and tell them all about who you are and why you do it.”

  “If you told them why, they’d know about you too,” said Vigil.

  “That’s true,” said The Phantom. “And I don’t want to give this up.” He gestured to his outfit. “Ever since I put on this mask, I’ve felt so free. Like all my inhibitions are gone.”

  I drew in a gasp.

  Then clapped my hand over my mouth at having made noise.

  But they didn’t seem to have heard me.

  Vigil had said almost the exact same thing as The Phantom. How were they connected?

  “Maybe you could stand to be a little more inhibited.” Vigil drove a fist into The Phantom’s jaw.

  The Phantom’s head whipped to one side. He stumbled backwards, his hand on his cheek. “Oooh, always the big man, throwing punches.”

  “Not trying to be the big man,” said Vigil.

  Phantom pistoned up on his feet, driving his shoulder into Vigil’s midsection. “What are you trying to be, hmm?” He drove Vigil into the wall of the nearby building.

  Vigil huffed at the impact. “I want to help you. You know that.”

  “Help me?” The Phantom let go of him. His voice took on a gleeful tone, like a kid opening Christmas presents. “You mean you’ll hold them down while I fuck them? Then, we’ll switch, and you can take a turn?”

  Vigil leaped on him, pummeling him in the stomach, punching him again and again. “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he said through clenched teeth.

  The Phantom laughed as Vigil punched him. “Sure you do. That’s what you want deep down. You want the same thing as I want.”

  “No.” Vigil grabbed The Phantom by the shoulders and shoved him.

  The Phantom tumbled to the ground on his back. He was still laughing. “You want to control them. I’ve been watching you. I know that the girls you date are all whores. You can do whatever you like with them.”

  Vigil shook his head. “You don’t know anything.”

  The Phantom got to his feet. “I know what your little reporter’s tits look like.”

  A wave of revulsion went through me. He remembered me, then. Before, he hadn’t. But the news article would have jogged his memory.

  Vigil’s hands clenched into fists.

  “She took her clothes off for me more than once,” The Phantom hissed. “I paid her to writhe on my lap—”

  Vigil hit him again. He slugged him in the face.

 
; The Phantom’s nose started to bleed. It splashed red all over his white mask. “Oooh, that’s more like it. You are growing a spine.”

  Vigil lifted his fist again.

  But The Phantom moved too quickly. He darted forward, grabbing Vigil by the neck and propelling him back into the wall. He pinned Vigil there, his hand wrapped around Vigil’s throat.

  Vigil reached for The Phantom, ineffectually scrabbling at his face, knocking his mask askew.

  “The thing is,” The Phantom said, “you can’t help me anymore. I’m too far gone. If you want to stop me, you’re going to have to kill me. Could you do that? Could you kill me?” He stared into Vigil’s eyes. Then he loosened his grip.

  Vigil drew in choking breaths.

  The Phantom took several steps backward. He rearranged his mask. He wiped the blood from his face. “I don’t know if I could kill you. You’re the only one who really understands.”

  Then The Phantom turned and swept down the alley, his cape flowing out behind him.

  “Hayden, wait!” Vigil yelled after him.

  But The Phantom was gone.

  Vigil clenched his fists and raised his face to the sky.

  He looked agonized.

  Part of me wanted to go to him.

  But what would I say? Oh, hey, so I was eavesdropping, and I know we’re broken up now, but you looked upset, and by the way, what the hell is going on between you and The Phantom?

  No.

  I switched off my recorder and quietly made my way out of the alley.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Can I ask you about Maria’s relationship with the Barclay family?” I asked. I was talking to Loretta, Maria’s supposed “bestie.” We were sitting on the steps outside the Barclay, Barclay, and Quinn building.

  Loretta was eating lunch. She had a salad and an apple cut into wedges. “Well, it was good. She was a good worker. They liked her, she liked them.”

  “Did she ever interact with other members of the family?”

  “Other members?”

  “Well, Hayden Barclay for example.”

  Loretta chewed on her lip. She appeared to be thinking. “I can’t remember anything specific. Hayden does come by the office a lot. He’s kind of a flirt. I don’t know if you’ve ever met him, but he’ll sing sugar in the ear of anything wearing a skirt.”

  That was funny. That wouldn’t exactly be the way I’d describe him. But he could be charming, I supposed. He was similar to Callum that way, wasn’t he? “So, she didn’t have any sort of special interaction with him?”

  “Nope,” she said.

  “But they knew each other?”

  “Yes, they knew each other.”

  Interesting. I had hoped for something more. I couldn’t figure out exactly why The Phantom had hidden Maria’s legs. He was trying to hide something. But what? What was he trying to hide?

  I offered Loretta my hand. “Thanks for talking to me. You’ve been very helpful.”

  She shook my hand. “To be honest, Ms. Kane, I don’t think they’re going to find her. Well, not alive anyway. I think she’s probably been dead for a long time.” She looked sad.

  I let go of her hand, looking at the ground. I didn’t want to tell her that there was evidence that Maria was, in fact, dead. “Well, her family and friends deserve closure, at the very least.”

  “They do,” said Loretta. “They definitely do.”

  A sleek black car pulled up at the bottom of the steps. It looked familiar, but I didn’t have time to stare at it.

  I handed Loretta my card. “If you think of anything else you’d like to tell me, go ahead and give me a call.”

  She nodded, taking the card. “I’ll do that.”

  The door the car was opening.

  Shit. I knew that car. That was—

  Callum got out. He started up the steps.

  “I need to go,” I said. “Thanks again for everything.”

  She smiled. “Sure thing.” She went back to her lunch.

  I began down the stairs to intercept Callum.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he said, closing the distance between us.

  “I’m working,” I said.

  He grabbed me by the arm. “You and I need to talk.”

  I pulled my arm out of his grasp. “You could have called.”

  He sighed. “Just come on a drive with me.”

  “Maybe I’m busy,” I said. “Maybe I have important appointments.”

  His shoulders sagged.

  Okay, who was I kidding? Of course I was going to talk to him. If nothing else, I wanted to ask him questions about The Phantom, talk to him about the new developments, that kind of thing. “I guess I could spare a few minutes.”

  “Thanks,” he said. He tried to smile at me, but it looked nervous.

  * * *

  “I read the article,” Callum said, sitting next to me in the backseat of the car. “The one you wrote about your past?”

  It had been published this morning. I expected a lot of people had read it by now. I nodded.

  “You made me look like an ass.”

  I had? But Henry had said that I didn’t do that at all. “That wasn’t my intention.”

  “Do you think I’m an ass?” he said.

  “No,” I said. I thought about the pictures of him and Blake. “Well… maybe.”

  He massaged the bridge of his nose. “Well, that’s clear. Thanks.”

  “I’m sorry.” I folded my hands in my lap. I was struck by the urge to make myself as small as possible.

  “I just don’t understand what happened,” he said. “That article made it seem like you thought things were over between us.”

  I gave him a funny look. “They are.”

  He sank into his seat, shutting his eyes.

  I leaned forward, twisting to look at him. “Aren’t they?”

  He opened his eyes. “I don’t remember ever deciding that. I mean, I guess if you don’t want to be with me, then—”

  “You haven’t called me,” I said. “You haven’t come by. I haven’t seen you.”

  “I said I needed time to deal with the fact that half the people on the docks have seen you without your fucking clothes. How’s that the end?”

  “You didn’t come after me,” I said. “You didn’t… I thought…” The urge to make myself small asserted itself again. I crumpled back into the seat.

  He leaned forward. “Look, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me. None of it does, not really. I know why you did it, and you did it before I even knew you. I don’t have any past claim on what you did with your body. So, it’s fucked up of me to make an issue out of it. I don’t want anything to change. I want to be with you in public. I want to be with you in private. I want you.”

  It was what I’d wanted him to say. But somehow, the words had lost their sweetness. If he’d said it in the garden, at that picnic, it would have been one thing. Now, the words seemed somehow coerced. It wasn’t enough anymore.

  “It sure seems like it matters to you. What was that little comment about half the people on the docks seeing me without my clothes?”

  “Well, I want it not to matter,” he said. “That should count for something. If it mattering means I lose you, then I’ll find a way for it not to matter.”

  “So it does matter?” I said.

  “For fuck’s sake, Cecily, it would matter to every man on earth.” He shook his head angrily. “I think of you as… mine, and—damn it, now that just sounds creepy and possessive, and it’s not how I meant it.”

  Actually, it had sent a shudder of pleasure through me. I liked the idea of being possessed by him.

  I swallowed. “You were with Blake. I saw pictures on the internet. You had your hands on her—”

  “You were spying on me using the internet?”

  “It’s not exactly spying when you’re all over her in public, Callum.” My voice sharpened.

  “I was not ‘all over’ her,” he said.

>   “And I saw you last night with The Phantom behind this building. I saw you talking to him. The things he said to you. Why are you the only person that understands him?”

  “You saw me?” He glared at me. “What, are you stalking me or something, Cecily?”

  “Stalking you?”

  “For someone who claims she thought things were over between us, it doesn’t seem like you did much except follow me around.”

  “I didn’t mean to see these things,” I said. “Airenne showed me the pictures, and I was here checking into information about Maria Shaw yesterday. It was a coincidence that we ended up here at the the same time.”

  He pressed his lips together.

  “You know, Callum,” I said, “maybe the truth is that I’m just not sure if I want to be with you, because you have too many secrets. Tell me about your connection to The Phantom. Tell me right now.”

  He turned away from me, looking out the window. “That’s not fair. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to make this all about—”

  “You know everything about me now. You know all of my secrets—”

  “Yeah, because of a newspaper article,” he said. “Otherwise, you never would have told me.”

  “Not the point,” I said. “The kinds of things I was hiding and the kinds of things I think you’re hiding? I’m not sure that they compare.”

  His jaw worked. He wasn’t looking at me. “It’s hard to talk about.” His voice was barely a whisper.

  I lowered my voice too. “Tell me the truth, Callum. Have you ever fantasized about… hurting women? He said that you wanted—”

  “No.” But he still wasn’t looking at me.

  “When you put on that mask,” I said, “and you lose all your insecurities—”

  “Stop.” He drew in a noisy breath through his nose. “Don’t ask me questions like that, Cecily.”

  I pulled away from him, feeling unsure. Feeling a little frightened. “I think you should let me out of this car,” I said.

  * * *

  I spent the rest of the day at The Sun-Times office, digging up everything I could possibly dig up on Hayden Barclay and Callum Rutherford. Looking for anything I could find that connected them.

  Mostly I came up empty. My search queries got me nowhere.

  Near as I could see, the two of them had never been in the same place at the same time, not ever.