54 #TaxiDriver

Connor walked the full length of the taxi queue at Baltimore/Washington International Thurgood Marshall Airport – a real mouthful of a title, understandably shortened to ‘Marshall’ by the locals. The taxi stand was located on the lower level of the main terminal, where only BWI Marshall-registered cabs could pick up customers – that gave Connor a realistic chance of speaking to the driver who had driven Horrigan to the hotel. He had a picture of the dead television personality on his BlackBerry, which he pushed through the drivers’ windows, asking if Horrigan had been a customer.

He was utterly amazed by the huge range of nationalities and races behind the wheels. Back home in Glasgow it seemed all taxi drivers were white and Scottish. Here there were turban-wearing Sikhs, Asians, African Americans, you name it. But they did share one common trait with their Scottish counterparts: they were a bad-tempered bunch. Some would just shake their heads before Connor even asked a question. Another told him straight, ‘If you’re not hiring then fuck off, buddy.’ Connor quite liked the friendly malice feel of adding ‘buddy’ to a threat. But, like any half-decent reporter, he persevered. When he had exhausted the queue of cabs, he simply waited at the end of the line for the next one to come in and try again.

He knew it was a long shot. It could be the driver’s day off. Or he could be on vacation. Random thoughts started drifting through his head from a mix of jet lag and boredom, as he asked himself, ‘How come, if they call it a vacation in America, Madonna sang Holiday?’ Connor had once held ambitions to work in the States, until someone told him most Americans only got two weeks’ annual ‘vacation’ – three, if they’d worked for the same company for about thirty years. Connor couldn’t do without his seven weeks’ paid leave a year; eight, if you included getting back all the bank holidays he had to work, too.

The next white cab joined the end of the line, and Connor went through the motions again. ‘Sorry to bother you, but did you pick up this guy?’

‘What if I did?’ came the shock reply. A shock because for once he wasn’t being told to get lost.

‘I’m a reporter. I’m trying to find out if he said anything?’

‘Cops told me not to speak to the press.’

‘I was Bryce’s friend. I’m just trying to find out what happened to him.’

‘What’s in it for me?’

‘$100?’

‘I get $70 for every ride into town.’

‘Okay, $70 for the ride, $100 for you?’

‘Get in.’

The cab pulled out from the back of the line, earning the ire from his fellow drivers, who angrily tooted their horns and flashed their lights. Connor’s driver flicked them the finger in return. ‘Fucking assholes.’ His badge said his name was Eddie Sandberg.

‘So whatcha wanna know?’ Eddie asked.

‘Just anything you can tell me. Was he harassed? Worried-looking? Say much?’

‘Worried-looking? No, he wasn’t worried-looking,’ Eddie said, before chuckling to himself.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘Cops asked me the same stuff and I’ll tell you what I told them. The guy was real relaxed. He was also here for some fun.’

‘How’d you know that?’

Eddie chuckled to himself again. He had quickly started to irritate Connor. Like someone laughing at an in-joke they refuse to share.

‘Because when I asked him if he was here for business or pleasure, he told me, “Oh, I’m here for pleasure all right.”’

‘That does sound like Bryce,’ Connor conceded.

‘There’s no way that guy was here on business. He was here on a promise.’ Eddie’s chuckle became a laugh. ‘But someone had other ideas, right? Am I right?’

‘Yes, I guess you’re right.’ Connor had had his fill of Eddie the twisted driver. He asked him to pull in a few blocks from where he was headed as he needed to get out. Connor took his age and a contact number along with a quick photo of Eddie leaning out of his cab window. It would do for a head and shoulders shot to go with his story of Horrigan’s last taxi ride.

There wasn’t much to go on, but at least now Connor had a good idea of his old boss’s motives for being in Baltimore. And he just knew they were far from honourable.