The Story of Silence (Book 3)

Chapter 15

Sunday, midmorning:

Midmorning arrived with a break of coffee for Dastardious Hollow, and he felt that he needed it. His desk was now littered with various folders of information about Amerigo and Finnegan, and he was busy sorting through information that may have linked them both together.

As far as he could work out the men had never actually met each other, yet he felt that there should be some sort of connection, like a friend who knew both of them. But all he could gather was that Amerigo was a normal man, who lived a normal life, and Finnegan had a record of multiple charges of robbery, drugs, and a couple of charges of association to murder. Yet Amerigo was the one with the bodies in his basement.

Could they have been planted by Finnegan? Could that have been what he was doing in the house? Nothing had been stolen that they could find, so it did give a reason of why Finnegan had been in the house. But then what was the reason for planting the bodies in the house of a dead man?

Dastardious placed down the piece of paper he was holding and took a sip from his coffee and watched the people on the other side of the glass door move as they went about their business.

He replaced his mug of coffee back over the ring that had been created from an earlier spill, and even though he was on duty and technically not allowed to, he lit a cigar and started to smoke.

As he was taking a puff a messenger walked into his office and placed a letter down onto the desk. Before Dastardious could say anything though, the man swept out of the room without even looking at him.

He took his cigar out of his mouth and placed it in the full ashtray that sat next to a sheet of blotting paper on his desk, and then he eyed the envelope sitting in front of him. He didn't trust envelopes. They caused paper cuts, which were just as bad as he was in a bad mood. He reached out gingerly to touch it, then drew his hand back and yelled out an order to the officer stationed at the desk outside of his office. The young man walked in nervously and stood to attention.

'Open this, letter, and tell me what it says,' commanded Dastardious, leaning back into his chair and replacing his cigar into the corner of his mouth.

The officer picked up the envelope and opened it. Yelping and dropping the letter on the desk as the paper cut into his finger, and a line of blood appeared in the cut. The corners of Dastardious's mouth twitched upwards in a wicked grin seen through the smoke of his cigar. He knew that would happen.

'Suck it up, Whimsy, don't you dare bleed over my desk! And read the letter, I don't have all day,' he ordered sharply, enjoying seeing Whimsy quiver as he picked up the letter and proceeded to read aloud what it said. He got barely halfway through before Dastardious jumped to his feet, and with his eyes shining, grabbed his coat and hat hanging near the door and ran out of the room.

Whimsy's shoulders seemed to droop and he let out a small sigh as he returned the letter to its envelope. He thanked his lucky star that all he'd had to do was open and read a letter, because as bad as a paper cut was, it wasn't as bad as being in the same room as a cop killer.

Simon Finnegan was seated at a large, metal table in a closed off room. The room's walls were covered in mirrors so every tiny movement he made he could see from every angle. The door behind him clicked as it was unlocked and then it swung open, and closed and clicked again. Simon didn't need to turn around to see who had entered; the mirrors reflected every movement of the man as he walked past Simon and seated himself in the chair opposite him, turning on the desk lamp as he did so.

Simon didn't recognise the man, but the man seemed to know who he was because he started the conversation by saying Simon's name.

'So, Simon, is it Finnegan? That's the name you gave to the police when you were arrested, is that really your name?'