Upon A Pale Horse

SEVEN Break In

Jeffrey took his time returning to the hotel, the walk helping to clear his head only a little. Once back in the lobby, he walked to the bar, which was just opening, and sat on a stool and ordered a single malt scotch, neat. The bartender nodded and rattled off the possibilities, and Jeffrey selected Glenfiddich.

The burn of the potent nectar seared his esophagus and then spread warmth from his stomach outward, numbing the worst of the anxiety that had been afflicting him all morning. The scene in the funeral home had been innocuous but painful, and the discussion with Becky puzzling. He frankly didn’t know what to make of her revelations. Rather than bringing closure to his brother’s death, all she had succeeded in doing was raising questions.

He ordered a second drink and mulled over his next steps: He’d need to get into Keith’s place and look around, throw away anything perishable in the refrigerator, and see what files he had for clues about his brother’s financial affairs. But he wasn’t up to the task just yet. He felt like crap; the ceremony had sapped his energy and brought up a heaping serving of guilt large enough to bury him. And from his experience dealing with his mother’s passing, he knew that he would be spending considerable time sorting through Keith’s belongings and making arrangements to liquidate his condo and deal with his possessions. Death might have been final for the victim, but it created considerable work for those surviving, and once again, the burden would fall on him.

The bartender returned with a raised eyebrow, silently inquiring whether Jeffrey wanted another, and Jeffrey shook his head, ordering a beer instead. He wanted to get drunk, really drunk, pie-eyed to the point where he couldn’t think, but that wasn’t a solution to anything. And the lingering ache in his head from the flight’s vodka-fest was still there, only partially banished by the amber elixir that sat atop the bar’s middle shelf, promising blessed oblivion.

He finished his Samuel Adams and signed for the tab, a princely number that was as close to robbery you could get without brandishing a gun, and then made his unsteady way to the elevator, suddenly drained from the morning, tired in spite of the caffeine he’d ingested and wanting nothing more than to crawl under the covers and hide from the world. A few hours of napping wouldn’t hurt, he reasoned as he stepped into the elevator. His face was sallow in the conveyance’s mirrored back wall, and he selected his floor with a noisy exhalation while waiting for the doors to close.

In his room, he debated getting online and dealing with any incoming emails but then rejected the idea. He stripped off his suit and draped it over a chair, and then padded into the bathroom for a shower. Once done, he considered ordering room service for lunch but opted instead to throw himself onto the bed, face down, his body shuddering as he sobbed into the pillow, eventually growing still before the room was filled with the drone of his snoring.

Four hours later Jeffrey awoke, groggy and hungry. He donned his casual clothes and hefted his coat, and after a cursory glance in the mirror and a token running of a brush through his hair, he went down to the hotel restaurant and ordered a late lunch, opting for caffeinated soda rather than more booze. His head pounded like drills were boring their way through his visual cortex and into his frontal lobes, and he silently rued his decision to down the two double Scotches — a move that was unlike him, as was all his drinking in the last twenty-four hours.

But perfectly understandable, he thought, gulping a glass of water with a twist of lemon floating in it. It’s not every day your only brother vaporizes in a front-page disaster. Part of him was still tugged towards getting obliterated so he wouldn’t have to confront the grim errands awaiting him, but he wrestled that impulse back into the dark recesses of his mind from whence it had come. There was no point delaying the inevitable.

Jeffrey chewed his twenty-five dollar steak sandwich slowly, determined to wring every ounce of pleasure out of it as he mulled over his next move. As unappealing as it was, he’d need to go to his brother’s place and deal with things there. Even as he reconciled himself to doing so, he realized that he wasn’t entirely sure where it was — Keith had bought it since the last time he’d been there, taking advantage of the abrupt drop in values as the economy had nosedived.

He fished his cell out of his pocket, navigated to his address book, and punched in Becky’s number. She had the key and knew the location. Maybe she’d even have a change of heart and want to give him a hand — a long shot, and way above the call of duty, he knew. The phone rang four times before she answered, sounding out of breath.

“Becky?”

“Who is this?” she snapped.

“It’s me. Jeffrey. Keith’s brother?” he responded, wondering if he hadn’t been the only one to hit the bottle after the service.

“Oh… Jeffrey. I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize your voice…”

“Is everything all right? You sound—”

“No, Jeff, it’s not. I… somebody broke in while I was at the funeral home this morning. I’ve been burglarized. The police are here right now, taking a report…”

“Jesus. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m fine. It looks like they only got a few things. My laptop, the stereo… it’s not like I stored diamonds here. Still… it’s an invasion.”

“I’m sure. Good Lord, I don’t even know what to say…”

“I don’t think there is anything. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m kind of tied up right now… what did you need?”

“I wanted to see if I could stop by and get the key to my brother’s place, and then I realized that I have no idea where you live, or where he did,” Jeffrey admitted sheepishly.

“Oh, the key. Of course. I’ll give you my address and you can come by. I think it’s safe to say I’ll be here for the duration.”

Becky lived nine blocks north of the hotel, and Jeffrey was able to pull up a map on his phone to see the best way to get there. He debated taking a taxi but decided to walk, hopefully burning off the last of the toxic residue from his brief flirtation with alcohol poisoning. He paid the bill and used the bathroom, then pulled his coat on and exited onto the main street, striding purposefully, the sun’s rays warming him in spite of the frigid air. When he reached the building he saw a squad car parked in the red zone to one side of the doors, and hurried up the four steps to the intercom panel with Becky’s name neatly handwritten in blue ink on a glass-protected tab to the right of a black button. Twenty seconds later the door buzzed in response to his call. He pushed it open and climbed the stairs to the third floor, as instructed.

Becky was standing in the hall by the first door on the left, speaking in a hushed voice to a uniformed officer taking notes, his radio squawking intermittently as he completed a form. His face was slack, his eyes revealing nothing as they shifted to give Jeffrey the once over before returning to his pad and checking off another box. Jeffrey waited until he was done and had handed Becky a pen and the clipboard to sign before he approached.

Becky’s eyes glistened as she looked up at him and smiled wistfully. “You found the place,” she said.

“Yes. Exactly where you said it would be.” Jeffrey returned the smile.

“I guess I should have said to look for the building with the cop cars in front. Nice neighborhood we have here…”

Jeffrey stepped closer and tipped his head in the direction of her door. “How bad is it?”

“See for yourself. They’re about done. But there’s not a lot they can do, according to Officer Klutsky here and his twin. Everyone’s just going through the motions. Best they can offer is that my computer or stereo might show up on a hot sheet if the thieves try to sell them.”

Jeffrey followed her a few yards to the door. She pushed it open and motioned with an open hand for him to take a look.

The room was in shambles, drawers dumped out on the floor, papers everywhere.

“Damn. Looks like it’s been hit by a tornado.”

“Now you know how I’ll be spending my evening. The cops think it was junkies. Apparently there’ve been a host of robberies in the last week. The only thing that’s weird to them is that it looks like the lock was picked. There’s no sign of a forced entry, so they’re not sure it’s the same gang. The others were obvious break-ins where they jammed the lock or broke a window to get inside.”

Her voice cracked as she finished and her shoulders sagged, and a small part of Jeffrey’s heart broke. After all she’d been through, the timing couldn’t have been worse. Before either knew what was happening, she was in his arms, sobbing against his chest as he held her tentatively, unsure what to do next. The moment only lasted a few heartbeats and then she pulled away, wiping her tears from her face with the back of her hand. He looked at the two officers conferring by the bedroom door, giving her a chance to compose herself.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Jeff. Some days really suck, you know?”

“Yeah. I do.”

The two uniforms walked towards them, as unenthusiastic as any humans Jeffrey had ever seen, and offered a few insincere platitudes before excusing themselves and leaving, their work done. Becky’s eyes swept around the room. She sighed, went into the kitchen, and returned holding a shiny brass ring with two keys dangling from it.

“The keys to Keith’s kingdom. You’re lucky — at least they didn’t steal them. Oh, and here, I wrote down his address. It’s about fifteen to twenty minutes away, over by Logan Circle.” She checked her watch. “Unless you try it during rush hour, in which case you can double or triple that.”

“Are you going to be okay here?” he asked, eyeing the mess on the floor.

“Sure. It looks worse than it is. It’ll actually give me something to do besides sit here and cry, so maybe they did me a favor…”

“You’re taking it way better than I would.”

“What’s the alternative? If I stop to consider how much bad has happened in just the last few days, I’d probably wind up in a padded room.”

He nodded. “Then I’m going to get going. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Do you want to take your brother’s stuff? I have it in a box over there… Had. Had it in a box. Now it’s that pile over by the window.”

“Can I ask you to hold onto it for now? I don’t know what I’m walking into at his place, and I don’t want to bite off more than I can chew. Unless you want it out of here…”

“No, that’s not it at all. I’ll keep it until you get things under control. Don’t worry about it. It’s all just odds and ends, anyway. Nothing super important,” she said.

They walked back to the door and he stepped across the threshold into the hallway, then gave her another hug, realizing as he did so just how little he knew her or about his brother’s life. Time had a way of racing by, especially if you were busy, but that seemed like a facile, inadequate excuse now that Keith was gone forever. He made his way back down the stairs and set out for the larger street two blocks away, where with any luck he could find a taxi.

The man tailing him moved from between two buildings on the far corner and settled in a comfortable distance behind Jeffrey, who was oblivious to his shadow, his head spinning from the events of the day as he hurried to get a cab before traffic came to a standstill.