Chain of Vengeance: Chapter Seven - Part Seventeen

The restaurant was fairly crowded; tables filled all the available floor space. There was a bar raised up on a platform down the far side. People were eating noisily and talking very loudly at the same time. Jack made his way through, his thoughts increasingly cloudy.

A woman was sitting at one end, dressed in a close approximation of an evening gown, a shawl hanging off her elbows. She had a half empty glass of what looked like Martini and looked disappointed when Jack walked in. He decided to keep away from her. He sat further up near the centre of the bar, next to a man in a suit.

“What can I get you?” said the barman.

“Just a Coke,” replied Jack.

The man on the seat next to his turned to him and smiled. “Are you English?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too.”

Jack took his drink and paid the barman. “Nice to meet you. It’s always good to see people from back home when travelling.”

“Mmmm.” The man had an empty plate in front of him. He laid his knife and fork together very carefully, his fingers lingering longer than might have been expected. The barman took it away.

“So why are you eating alone?” asked Jack.

“I’m here on business,” replied the man.

“What kind of business?”

“I’m in insurance.”

“You’re not going to try and sell me a policy are you?”

The man smiled. “No. I’m not a salesman, I’m an investigator. And anyway, I’m not here because of that.”

“No?”

The man withdrew slightly. There was a little tension in his expression for a second as though he were considering something, then he said, “I’m here to find someone.”

“An old friend or something?”

“No,” replied the man, smiling crookedly, a little more relaxed now and grateful perhaps for the opportunity to explain himself to a stranger. “I’m here to find the man who killed my sister.”

Jack’s eyes widened. His voice became quiet. “Really?”

The man grinned at Jack, eyes flicking across his face. “No. Not really.” He brushed a lick of hair into place off his forehead.

The barman laid down a slip of paper for the man to sign. Jack watched his hand very carefully as he spelled out his name in rapid strokes.

Sam Decker.

Lucy’s brother.

Thousand’s of miles away from where he’d committed the crime, and now, here was the one man who could be sure it was him. The coincidence was phenomenal but it was really happening and it was another sign. The man beside him was here to kill him or bring him to justice; he was an avenging angel sent to bring him down; and he didn’t realise that his companion was the very man he wanted to find.

Jack took a slow drink, keeping his eyes on Sam. He wondered if he should just tell him who he was.

“So, what are you doing here in San Francisco?” asked Sam.

“I’m a tourist.”

“And what makes you go to a bar alone?”

Jack pictured the bodies of the muggers in the park. He pictured Lucy lying against the hearth. “Just thinking, that’s all,” he said. “It’s good to be by yourself sometimes.”

Sam paused and then nodded.

“Do you believe in God?” asked Jack.

Sam frowned. “Absolutely not.”

“I do. I sometimes wonder how much of our lives he can see.”

“The standard belief is that he can see everything isn’t it?”

Jack sighed. “I guess so.”

“It’s irrelevant,” said Sam, “whether he exists or not. You do what you have to do to survive. Morals don’t come into it. If you’re damned when you die then that’s just the way it is.” Sam took a long drink of his beer.

Jack turned his glass round and round on the counter. “Are you saying that you’d kill to survive?”

Sam looked at him, eyes vacant. “No. I would never kill. Murder is the lowest crime. Never ever do it.”

“But what if you were going to die yourself?” pressed Jack, “What if you’d been betrayed? What if you became so angry you couldn’t stop yourself?”

Sam stared at him; then instantaneously his expression completely changed. The humour and politeness that had been there vanished. His eyes were grey.

“You’re him aren’t you?” he said. “You’re Jack Catholic. You murdered my sister.”

Jack nodded his head and whispered, “Yes.”