Chapter Three
At 9am, Betsy's Bakery opened. Several hours before though, the real work would start.
From across the street, M could smell the food. Bread and cakes and pastries and all sorts of baked goods. If the food tasted as good as it smelled, then he was in for a treat.
M had not slept all night. First he had waited for Elizabeth to return home, and when she had he had been busy thinking up a plan. Elizabeth was, by all accounts, a nice person. But she was reclusive, scared, and unstable. Getting close to her would be difficult. He had thought about it all night, and now he had a plan, of some sort at least.
The other thing that he had been thinking about was who else was following Elizabeth, and who else was following him. It was difficult to know. Lemona could have another agent following him, or another agent following Elizabeth, or both. Bandit could have people, Pepper could have people, or anyone else. They all could, even. But there would definitely be someone.
As the sun rose higher in the sky, and the streets began to grow busier, M looked through this binoculars into the shop window, where he could see Elizabeth starting to place warm loaves of bread onto a table. He began to feel something growing in the pit of his stomach. He scanned the notes he had written his book. He knew what the plan was, he had to stick to it.
At a quarter to 9, M abandoned his post and freshened up. A shower, shave, and a change of clothes later and he headed downstairs and across the road.
The streets were noticeably busier today. Things had returned to more of a form of normality today, and the majority of people had probably forgotten that the riots had ever happened. The good thing about busy is that its easier to disappear. The bad thing about busy is its harder to notice who is looking for you.
As he reached the front door of Betsy's Bakes, he saw the shop had now opened. He pushed open the door and was bathed of a heady mixture of warmth and flour and spice.
'Hello' said Elizabeth, from behind the shop counter. 'How can I Help?'
'You can help me by recommending me some bread. What's the best you have to sell?'
'That's a tough question.' Elizabeth smiled at him. 'I would argue that everything we have to sell is the best.' She walked over to the end of the counter and pointed to a pile of bread directly in front of her. 'I just made these ciabatta's, which I think are very nice.'
'Then I'll have one of those, please. And maybe a doughnut for later?'
'That'll be 5 dollars, sir.'
M reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. 'Luke. My name is Luke.'
Elizabeth didn't even look up at him as she pulled out a brown paper bag from underneath the counter.
'Do I know you from somewhere?' M asked her.
Elizabeth flinched, and tried not to look M in the eyes. 'I don't think so. Have we met?'
'Hmm, I don't think so. I just seem to recall seeing your face somewhere.'
'Maybe I just have one of those faces.' Elizabeth then shoved the bread into the bag so hard that it tore the bottom and came out the other end 'Damn.'
'You should be more careful.'
She reached under the counter and M could see sweat beginning to appear on her forehead. 'Sorry. I'm not very good at this sort of stuff. Normally Beth, my colleague does this sort of stuff but she's... um... well actually I don't know where she is.'
'It's fine.'
Elizabeth placed the food in the new bag and handed it to Mister M. 'There you are, Luke. Oh, and sorry.'
'I shouldn't have startled you.'
'You didn't.'
'I'm sure I've seen you before though.'
'Well you haven't. Goodbye.' She then turned on the spot and disappeared into a back room. Mister M turned and took a quick look around the shop before leaving.
'Do you know who Linda was talking too?'
'No. She was too far away for me to able to tell.'
'Did you try and follow her?'
'Of course not.'
'Good. If anyone had seen you, then you would have put us under suspicion, and that's the last thing we want.'
'So what do we do next?'
Lemona sighed for a minute and thought. It would be untrue to say that this was a difficult decision, because every decision in her job was difficult. She was treading the fine line between doing too much or too little. After a few moments of contemplation, she asked Bee another question 'I suggest you pull out.'
'What?'
'We need to cut all surveillance we have on Elizabeth and let M do his job. We're playing with fire.'
Bee looked unsure. 'What about Linda?'
'You know that Linda is under Bandit's control, we can't dare to even go near here.'
'This is salsa. What are we supposed to do?'
'Be patient and have faith, I trust M to do his job properly.'
'You trust him to much. You put too much faith in him. He isn't good enough.'
'Are you questioning my decision?' Lemona fixed Bee with an icy glare that bore right into her eyes and out the back of her head.
'No. I'm just concerned.'
Lemona stop up and reached over to a bottle on her desk. 'We're all concerned, Bee. That doesn't mean that this is a good time to start doubting me.' She walked over to a cabinet and returned to the table with two glasses. 'Here, drink some of this.'
'What is it?'
'It doesn't matter, just drink some,' said Lemona, as she poured the strange looking liquid into the glasses and handed one to Bee. 'Perhaps I do give M too much leeway when it comes to his mistakes, but he's had a lot of bad luck in the past. I believe that he can do well on this mission. And, most importantly, he's the only candidate we have.'
Bee sipped the cool liquid. At first it burnt her mouth, but after a few moments it tasted velvety and sweet. 'But what do we do with this new information?'
'You mean Sherry Ann, I assume. It's... interesting, but I don't see anything that we need to immediately act upon.'
'Doesn't it concern you?'
'Oh Bee, everything concerns me.'
'Sherry Ann was dead, and the same person who we believed to be her killer we believe to be the killer of Jacob. Jacob and Sherry Ann were close associates until her death, or whatever it was. Surely you don't think that can just be a coincidence?'
'No, I do not. But you're missing the point, Bee. Think about this.'
Bee bit her bottom lip for a moment and thought. Thoughts were rushing through her head at a thousand miles a minute, but every inch of her brainpower for focusing on trying to remain calm and composed. After a long few minutes she sighed and said 'What I am missing then?'
'Sherry Ann is clever, cleverer than most anyone I know. She would know that even letting someone as insignificant as Linda know she is alive would be too dangerous. She's had as all under the illusion that she's dead for over a year, and now she's broken that spell and she's done it deliberately. How she survived, I don't know, but she want's as to know that she has. We don't have enough information to draw any more conclusions than that, and that is where you come in. I need you to try and find out as much information as you can about Zortegus. Go back to the murder scene – both of them – and start for square one. If we find Zortegus and find out why Sherry Ann was killed, then we find out why she is alive.'
'Okay, I'll try my best.' Bee stood and turned to leave the room, slightly too hastily.
'Oh and Bee,' Lemona walked after Bee and stood directly in front of her. 'I need your complete confidence in this. I need to know that I can trust?'
'When have I ever made you doubt me?' Bee smiled at Lemona, before turning and walking out of Lemona's office.
'All the time.'
As Elizabeth stepped outside of the shop, the heat of the midday sun washed over her. She turned and locked the door of the shop behind her, and stopped to look at her own reflection in the glass. She looked okay, not as nervous as she felt. She had made her choice, and she had to stick with it now.
She turned and walked down the street, which was bustling with life. It was a warm day, probably the last truly hot day of the year, and everyone was making of the most of it. Children were running around laughing, whilst watchful parents talked to one another. It was early afternoon, and busy people in important clothes rushed around to get their lunch. She was missing out on some good custom. A large group of protesters stood to one side, holding placards and signs with mocking images of the mayor. At the front of them stood a woman shouting into a megaphone, but Elizabeth was too preoccupied to take in what was being said.
As she turned a corner, she looked up and could see her destination. The spire of the church pierced the dark blue sky like a dagger. She hadn't been to the church for years, not since her wedding. It would strange to be back there, especially for a funeral. There were lots of similarities between a funeral and a wedding, she supposed. Friends and family gathering together in celebration of life. Elizabeth had never been to a funeral before, not even her own husband's. She had wanted to go, but Jacob wouldn't let her.
Elizabeth was so busy looking up at the church and thinking, that she wasn't looking where she was going. The sun creeped out from behind the spire of the church, and shone into her eyes and suddenly she felt herself falling into someone, and then she felt something very hot falling down the front of her dress.
'Sorry!'
Elizabeth fell backwards and put her arm out to stop herself, but it was grabbed by the man who she had walked into, and he helped to pull her up. 'Woah, are you okay?'
'Yeah, I -' She looked down at her dress, and saw a huge splosh of coffee dripping down her front. 'Oh no. Well yeah, I'm sort of okay I guess.'
The man knelt down to pick up his coffee cup, and grimaced.
'I'm sorry about the coffee.'
'It's fine. I don't know what I was thinking really, it's too hot today for a, er, hot drink. I'm sorry about your dress.'
Elizabeth realised she had seen the man already this morning. 'It's fine. You were in my shop this morning, weren't you? ... Luke, wasn't it.'
'Guilty. The Bread was nice, by the way.'
'That's good to know.' She turned away from him and looked up at the church once more.
'Are you okay?' asked Luke.
'Yeah i'm just.... I'm supposed to be somewhere.'
'Oh, sorry.'
'No it's.... fine I just.' She realised now that she shouldn't be doing this. 'You know what? Actually, I don't need to be somewhere.'
'Well that's a relief.'
She smiled at him. 'Let me buy you another coffee. Or something cooler, if you'd prefer.'
'That might be better. But only if you let me buy you another dress.'
Lemona glanced through the latest report from Quisby. It was full of the usual oddities that Qusiby liked to insert in all of his communications, and after scanning the file for a few minutes she realised she wasn't going to get anything of real content out of it.
Lemona closed the file and rose from the desk, and headed towards a door in the corner of the room. She pushed her key card against the lock, and entered into a large private bathroom, one which she had never actually used. She headed into the shower and looked up at a security camera. A few seconds later there was a clicking sound followed by a mechanical hiss, and the wall at the back of the shower slid away, revealing a dark and dingy corridor. At the end of the corridor there was a flight of rusty metal stairs, which led to a further door. After entering a code, Lemona walked into the room.
The room was large and cool, but with very little light. There huge windows on each wall, but each was covered up by large blinds, keeping out the daylight. In fact the only light in the room at all was coming from the numerous computers, tablets, phones, and various pieces of technology that littered the floor. Every one of them was on, and each one cast the room in an eerie blue light. The most interesting thing about the room, however, was not the computers, but the woman who was sat in the middle of the floor. Under a mass of long dark hair could be seen a slender face with an expression of extreme concentration. She had long thin arms and was sat cross legged and seemed to be taking in several different things at once. She was so deep in thought that she seemed to barely notice that Lemona had entered. She knew, though.
'Hello Lorelai.'
'Hello,' said the woman, who immediately closed the lid of a laptop to her right, and then turned behind her to pick a package. 'I thought you'd have come here before now.'
'I've been busy.'
'You always are.' She held the file out in the air, waiting for Lemona to take it from her. 'I read through the file as best I could, and couldn't find anything suspicious. As far as I can tell, Hermes' actions have been entirely consistent over the last few years.'
'Consistent isn't necessarily helpful, he's very good at keeping things secret. I was hoping for something more interesting than that though.'
'Well I'm sorry to disappoint.'
Lemona sat down next to Lorelai, and tried to see what she had been looking at, but Lorelai pushed her head away 'Don't look at my work. It's private'
'What are you doing? Is that the ASCA database?'
Lorelai sighed 'Yes. I'm just looking because... well, I'm doing my job'
'What does ASCA have to do with your job?'
Lorelai ignored her 'What are you doing? Why are you here?'
'I wanted to ask you about Bee.'
'Then ask away...'
'Can I trust her.'
'It depends what you mean trust. If you mean “Can I trust her follow my orders?”, then yes, but if you mean “Is she withholding important from me?”, then yes, she is.'
'What information.'
'On the evening of Jacob Willis' Death, approximately 10 minutes before the event, Bee was undercover at The Pandora. She was on her way to interact with Jacob, as per your orders, when she received a text message which distracted her. The message was from Zortegus.'
'Zortegus? How does she -'
'I don't know how, but clearly she does. Her phone is obviously very secure and I've not been able to access exactly that the message said, but whatever it was it must be important. Bee was on her way to Jacob that evening, and whatever was in that message stopped her from going there.'
Lemona stood up and begin to pace around the room, making sure not to trip over the mass of cables and wires strewn over the floor. 'This is... very good.'
'Thank You.'
'Zortegus killed Jacob'
'I know.'
'I wonder if....' Lemona stopped herself from talking, from revealing to much of her thoughts 'Thank you Lorelai, you've been extremely helpful today.'
'Oh mother, I always try to be.'
As Mister M left Elizabeth's apartment, the last few remnants of sunlight were beginning to fade from the sky. The had spent a lot of time together, more time than M had realised. She had been much more accessible than he was expecting, much more... open.
After going for a drink he had insisted on going with her to buy a new dress, and they ended up going back to her apartment. Most of their conversation consisted of her talking and him listening, which was no bad thing, as it gave him more time to build on his background. But he was surprised about what she did reveal to him and what she didn't. She was more than comfortable telling him her real name, and that she had been having doubts over attending her brother's funeral, but she stopped short of actual saying that her brother was an infamous gangster, as if anyone wouldn't know who he was.
So far, everything was going well, better than he hoped. She trusted him.
As Mister M neared his apartment, he could something growing in the pit of his stomach, a sense of dread and foreboding about the days to come. He knew that people were watching him, and he knew people were watching Elisabeth. He knew what he had to do.
As M unlocked the door to his apartment and walked in, his mind was busy focusing on the coming days, and so it took him a few moments to realise that something was wrong. He sat down on the chair facing the window and peered through the binoculars. The lights in Elizabeth's apartment were all out, and it looked like she had gone to sleep. M reached over for his notebook, and he realised that it was gone. He looked around to see if it had fallen on the floor, but it hadn't.
He stood up from his chair, and felt his heart beating faster. He needed that notebook. What had he done with it?
As Mister M walked over to his bedroom door he suddenly stopped. He thought he had heard something coming from inside his bedroom, almost like a clicking sound. He stood still, frozen to the stop where we stopped, and he listened as hard he could, but he couldn't hear anything else.
The door had been locked, he knew, but that didn't mean someone hadn't broken in. Someone could have taken his notebook. It could be someone who was also watching Elizabeth, or could just be anyone.
Slowly, M crept closer to the door, and placed his ear carefully against the gap between the door and the wall, and then he heard something else, a different noise, a soft hissing sound, almost like a snake.
The door exploded, and M was thrown backwards onto the floor. A shape in beige jumped on top of him pressing splinters of wood into M's body. He tried to push himself up but the weight of the man was too much, and he fell back down.
He saw something bright above him, and then suddenly he felt the heat and the smell of fire. He struggled to move, but it made no difference. He tasted blood and sweat and smoke, as the flames begin to burn deep into his flesh.