“Sorry Mom,” Emma said without any conviction, “you know how it is, just got swept away in the moment.”
Her mother pulled away and looked up at her. She shook her head and giggled.
“Swept away in the moment?” her mother repeated with disbelief. “I hope he was handsome and rich.”
“Perfect except for the beard,” Emma replied.
Fingers stroked my chin and I frowned. There’d be little reason to hide my Hunter chin when I saw her next. Maybe I would shave by then. It was rather itchy.
By now, Emma’s fathers had joined mother and daughter. Her stepfather held himself rigidly in the background but Turner pulled her into a hug.
“You had me worried, lass,” the old man said as he patted her back. “You know I’ve got enemies. When Monica called me, told me you weren’t returning her calls, I feared one of them had taken you, wanted to ransom you.”
Oh, one of them had taken her, three times even. The cabbie frowned at me in the rear view mirror when I cackled.
“Sorry to scare you so much,” Emma replied.
If I hadn’t gotten to know her so well in the last 12 hours, I would have believed her sincerity but she was only sorry I didn’t cave at a higher number. I’d seen enough.
“City Chambers,” I said to the cabbie as I pulled out my phone, “and you can keep the meter running, I’ll be quick.”
A text to my guy in the records office had me sitting on a bench opposite the restrooms off the lobby of the Chambers. Two men had walked into the men’s room while I watched. Only one left so far.
The contact turned the corner, looking every bit the mid-level civil servant he was, nebbish and boring as the pale yellow tie he wore. His head flinched at seeing me but he kept walking to the restroom. His eyes darted my way more than once. I shouldn’t have expected much, given I was dealing with an amateur.
The only other occupant of the restroom exited and I stood and entered. The lock clicked closed behind me. The contact wasn’t visible in the open area. I found a pair of brown shoes under one of the stalls.
“We’re alone,” I said.
The feet flinched and the man stood. The lock rattled and the door finally opened. My contact cowered in the stall. I sighed.
“There’s no need to be scared, you’re doing me a favor here,” I said, flashing my least threatening grin then letting it sour. “You should only be afraid of me if you fuck it up.”
I held out the folder with the completed marriage certificate application. He stared at it but accepted it after a moment. Once opened, he scanned the document, nodding as he read.
“And when I do this, my wife’s debts to that Paki will disappear?” he asked, not looking up from the form.
“That Paki, Bashir, is a good friend of mine,” I menaced, standing taller, “and your wife is a gambling addict. She took those debts willingly. I’d keep her away from the bookies from now on. Trust me, Bashir is downright pleasant compared to some of the people who would float loans like that.”
With an audible gulp and a nod, he rushed toward the door. He tugged to open it three times before finally realizing I’d locked it. It took another struggle at the lock before he rushed out of the restroom. I waited a few seconds and followed.
“St. Leonard’s church,” I told the cabbie when I returned. “I’ll only need you to drop me off after that.”
This time in the morning on a weekday, I stepped into an empty sanctuary at St. Leonard’s. I hadn’t been a parishioner since my parents were killed. I wasn’t even able to be at the funeral. Turner’s men were watching.
“Ian,” a weathered voice echoed in the empty church, “come to visit your family’s crypt?”
“Not today, Reverend,” I replied, turning to the voice.
The vicar stood at a side door. His black clerical garb had been perfectly starched, the white bright at his neck. He smiled, cheeks rippling with wrinkles. Shuffling steps brought him closer, but I went to him.
“Ah, you’re here for that favor you talked about.” The vicar pointed a knobby hand at the folder under my arm. “Asking a priest to lie…”
“For a good reason, for justice,” I said and passed the folder to him.
He accepted it and held it under his arm, not even opening it to take a look.
“Your family deserves justice,” the vicar said, “but you want vengeance. Remember, an eye for an eye for an eye and the whole world’s blind.”
