Dying For LA by Ian Jones (top fiction books of all time .txt) 📕

‘So what do we do with him? And before either of you say anything we can’t keep him shut away down there forever.’ he asked.

‘Turn him over to the PD. They can lock him up, and he was never here,’ Reed replied and John nodded.

‘Right. Look, I got to ask, before anything else happens are you both in agreement here? Is this guy telling the truth?’ Turner raised the question they were asking themselves.

Reed shifted uncomfortably so John spoke up.

‘I’ll be honest here; I’ve had my fingers burnt badly with Keane and I don’t trust him. I don’t trust him at all. He’s made an arse out of me over and over. But it does all fit, everything he has told us does line up with what’s happened so far, and we were able to piece a lot of it together anyway. We know that Major Hayter loved Vegas, loved to gamble. Maybe he even had some kind of a problem with it, no idea. But he was central to all this, they want something he has. It’s important to someone, whatever it is, they have been to a lot of trouble and expense. Deanna was set up to get it, whatever it is, but either failed or just didn’t bother. Keane now says he thinks it’s plans of some kind but we don’t know.’

Turner shook his head.

‘I get that, but this is where it makes no sense. Major Hayter worked in supply. He wouldn’t have any documents, secrets, plans whatever. He was just a clerk really. A goddamn office boy.’

‘I agree,’ Reed said, ‘but if we look at the facts he was the target. For sure. At first we wondered if it was Deanna, or Madeline and he was just some kind of unlucky accident. But him getting shot and his briefcase getting taken does kinda put the lid on it, and it sure dragged the army in.’

‘Yeah, I know. I can see that. That’s why you’re there Tom. I’m not saying you’re wrong I’m just trying to piece it together, if that’s possible. We know why he was at the bar; he was going to pay what he owed, presumably to get this Mays off his back, now he had some cash.’

‘Why did he even have a briefcase? What would have been in it?’ John asked.

Turner and Reed shared a look, Reed chuckled and explained.

‘Well that’s another thing. Our guys spoke to the captain, the two lieutenants even the sergeants that worked under Major Hayter over in the stores. We got the story. He used to get yesterday’s sandwiches from the enlisted men’s mess. You can basically just take them away. He would eat them at his desk. He didn’t want to use the OC. We worked that out too. He was always borrowing cash. For Vegas I guess. That meant he didn’t want to go to the club because everyone would be looking for their money back. So he ate stale sandwiches at his desk just to keep out the goddamn way. Kept them in the briefcase; the sergeants told me they used to check it whenever he went to the can. See what crap he was having for lunch that day. It was obviously a big joke but there was nothing in it but his sandwiches. He must have thought he disguised it I guess. On that day, they were doing counts and he was in the uniform stores all day, then he went straight off with captain Bryant. There was no way he put anything of any interest in the case, he didn’t get out of there once until he left.’

John nodded.

‘Well, we know they didn’t get what they were looking for anyway.’

‘I just can’t picture Major Hayter doing anything seriously bad. It doesn’t seem likely at all. He’s been here for years and years, got the dullest jacket in history. I suppose maybe he could be stealing to sell stuff on, settle his gambling debts but that isn’t what this is about at all. The stores all check out, we have done two audits. There is nothing of any value unaccounted for,’ Turner said.

‘I’m exactly the same. I didn’t know him, but he just had a day job here. He wasn’t really a soldier he worked in an office, Monday to Friday. He can’t have had any big military secrets, there’s no way,’ Reed announced.

‘Right, so where do we go from here?’ Turner asked, which was a good question.

John’s mobile rang suddenly, loud and shrill. Most of the room turned to look. John apologised and answered it quickly. It was Judy.

The trace had come back.

John sat down again with Reed and Turner, struggling to keep the excitement from his voice.

‘We know where Pinsky is. Judy got the trace. He’s in some old goods yard, in a place called Hobart. Apparently it’s all abandoned now.’

Turner jumped to his feet.

‘Let’s go.’

Back in the MP headquarters Turner walked into the office in the lobby and sat down in front of a computer in a corner. Compared with the rest dotted around this one looked almost current. He logged on, and then opened up a maps page on the internet. He did some searching and they stood behind looking over his shoulder. The yard was there, not far from a freeway with a lot of railway lines running through to one side of it. Reed got the mouse and clicked a button and then there was a picture on the screen. He moved the mouse and it panned across so they could almost see the whole space. They spent a while looking and then Reed typed in the browser and read from the screen.

‘Ok, well the yard closed down nearly six years ago. Logistical improvements apparently, the transport authority got a new place further out. This has been sold, planned for development.’

They sat down at a desk.

‘Nothing there but empty warehouses and only one entrance I can see,’ Reed said.

‘I say we get over