The Anomaly's Enigma

“Frank, The Enigma died,” I say.

“I know!” Frank replies, “I know, Gerard. I buried that part of myself. A long time ago. I wanted him to stay dead. I thought he would.”

“Frank,” I say, trying to gather my thoughts. Mostly I’m trying to convince myself that this is a coincidence, but what are the odds of that? I agree with Frank that the two colors gold and navy blue can’t be anything else. The other ones might spell something else out though. Possibly. I don’t know. That dark purple really does look like indigo. Oh my god Frank is right.

“There is only one person, who isn’t sitting at this table, that knows about who I was before I met you,” Frank says.

“Yeah, you’re criminal friend! He could’ve told someone!”

Frank shakes his head, “I don’t know, criminals are fairly reliable.”

I look at Frank like he’s insane, because he did just vouch for the reliability of lawbreakers.

“You’re looking at me like I’m insane,” Frank says, “Gerard, trust me, criminals are way more dependable than civilians. There is an honor code among them. Maybe not among killers, but my friends are mostly thieves. Thieves have one hell of an honor code.”

“Why were all your friends thieves?”

“Because assassins don’t play well with others,” Frank says.

“I know an ex-assassin who seems to be pretty good at interacting with people,” I say with a shrug.

“Oh yeah?” Frank smirks, “well you’re missing the fact that he quit that life. This is about my friend, or whatever you want to call him, The Conte. Haven’t you ever heard of honor among thieves? The Conte doesn’t care who I am, Gerard. He wouldn’t tell anyone. He doesn’t care.”

“What about a payday though?” I ask.

“What? You think he’d sell me out for a couple of extra bucks? Pocket money? Gerard, he’d make more money hitting up a homeless shelter.”

“Frank, I hate to say it, but you killed a lot of people. Someone might be bitter about that,” I suggest.

Frank makes a huffing sound and I can tell I brought up a topic that he doesn’t want to talk about. I bite my lip and look down at the table.

“Gerard, I thought we were working on the suspicion that it was Derek Fischer who wanted you dead, not someone from my past,” Frank says.

“No, what I said was that I didn’t know who was after us, and that I thought it might be someone just praying off the convenience of him being released,” I reply, “my theory is that Mr. Fischer has literally nothing to do with this. I don’t think he’s trying to kill us at all. I think that someone wants us to think that.”

“Gerard, this isn’t a cop show. This is actually real, like real life. Now, you’ve got me convinced that someone, I don’t know who, but someone, wants us dead. That is one thing I’ll agree with you on, but what gives you the idea that there has to be some big plot twist? You know usually, the obvious answer is the obvious answer. The only kind of people who get away with fooling people, are those who are either really fucking good at staging a crime scene, or professionals. Usually they’re the same thing. Gerard, I highly doubt that Derek Fischer is smart enough to cover up his tracks, and I also highly doubt someone out there hates me so much that they’re able to pin it on him. All odds say Derek Fischer is our guy.”

“But how does he know who you are, Frank?” I ask, and that gets Frank to shut up.

“I don’t know actually.”

“Well, do you still know how to get into contact with your friend? Whatever his name was? Can you call him and ask him if he told anyone?” Gerard asks.

“He wouldn’t tell anyone, I already said this!”

“He might have!”

“He doesn’t give a shit about me Gerard!”

“Well how far did your friendship extend? How did you meet him?”

“What?” Frank asks, “Oh it was nothing. I needed to break into this big old house to take care of a hit, and I didn’t know how to disable the alarm system. I got in touch with Conte, and he helped me out, so we split the fee. There were a few times after that where I would call on him, or he’d call on me, because Conte ain’t a killer unless he’s got to be.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” I reply, making a face.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it. Gerard, you know what I’ve done, and you know that I hate myself for it, but it happened, so that’s that. I don’t want to believe that this is what’s happening though. I think it’s Derek Fischer,” Frank professes.

“Alright,” I nod, even though I don’t necessarily agree with him, “Well how about you get into contact with him and ask if he knows how you’re secret slipped? There are only three people in the world who are supposed to know, Frank. You and me, and this Conte guy, but that’s not exactly the case. Unless it’s your friend.”

“Yeah right. Conte is the most apathetic person on the planet. He doesn’t even care about money or anything anymore, he’s in it for the thrill. He wouldn’t put me away or get you shot for a thrill. That’s not exciting. He’s like a thrill junkie, but he’s harmless to me. He’d never hurt me if I didn’t wrong him. He’s the kind of guy who might steal your watch for you acting like a jerk to him, but he wouldn’t get so hung up over anything that he’d want to kill you for it. Besides, we’ve never been at odds with each other. I’ve never pissed the guy off. Trust me, you’d know if I had.”

“Please, Frank,” I ask, “do this for me?”

Frank groans and sighs, “Yeah alright. I don’t know that I have his number anymore though.”

“Well that burner phone, do you still have that burner phone you called him with?”

“Did you just ask me if I have a burner phone from four years ago?” Frank asks, looking at me like I’m insane, “Gerard, it was a burner phone. Of course I don’t fucking have it. I threw it in a river. It’s long gone.”

“So how do you get in contact with him?”

“Oh I have my ways,” Frank says looking wistfully off into the distance like he’s having a war flashback. He’s so cute that I almost don’t want to roll my eyes at him, but I do so anyway because he looks so fucking stupid.

“So then, do it,” I say.

“Alright fine,” Frank says, holding his hands up as if in defense, and then he stands up. I watch him push his chair in and then walk over to our room to change. Frank comes back a few minutes later with a sweatshirt and looks at me like he’s about to ask me something.

“What?”

“You sure about this?”

“Frank, someone want’s us dead, and considering the nature of their secret message, it probably isn’t a good idea to tune the police into this.”

“Yeah you’re right,” Frank says, “the cops are probably still after me.”

“So we have to explore our options. Indulge this suspicion. Just for me, okay?” I ask him.

Frank nods slowly and heads toward the door, “I’ll do this under one condition, Gerard.”

“What?”

“Well, for starters, I’m going to fuck you into the mattress tonight.”

“Sounds fair.”

“And second,” Frank says, “You’re going to finish those pages you have due while I’m gone.”

“You’re telling me to do my homework while you go out and try to get into contact with your friend the felon? I do not remember high school being like this,” I respond.

“That’s precisely what I’m saying.”

“Where are you going anyway?” I question him before he leaves.

“Oh you really don’t want to know,” Frank says, “besides, I swore to myself that I would never let you see this part of me more than you had to. So you stay here and do your thing, I’m going to go do mine.”

“Well, um, be careful?”

“This is such a weird conversation,” Frank says, shaking his head before he opens the door. I watch him leave and then frown while I look back at the letters in front of me.

Honestly, I don’t know how to feel about the fact that I finally got Frank to believe me. I’m not actually positive he does believe me yet, but seriously what else could these letters spell out? PNIGFB? We’re taking a wild guess here, but Frank looked really confident that he had the right names for the colors. I don’t know what to think honestly. I want to think that Frank knows what he’s doing well enough to keep us both alive. Well alive at least until tonight, Frank’s promise sounded pretty enticing.