by Adam Carter
“Sure. Anything to get back to some proper work. Who’s Tammy?”
“I’ll go explain to Rachael who you are and where I’m going. She might be scared at first, but she ...”
“Not sure whether you understood me clearly, Baronaire. Tell me who Tammy is or I’m out the door.”
Baronaire was already halfway out the kitchen, but stopped to look back at her. By the fire in her eyes he knew she was determined. But Detective Lin always had fire in her eyes and she was always determined. “I can’t,” he said after a long pause. “It’s not my secret to share. All I can tell you is that she looks after the girls in a certain area of the city. Sanders makes sure that area is a safe haven for whores. He’s taken this personally because one of them was killed on his watch. Someone’s kicked Sanders in the face and he doesn’t like it.”
“Does Sanders use Tammy?”
Baronaire pulled a face. “That’s a very crass way of putting it, Lin.”
“That a yes?”
“No. So far as I know, Sanders doesn’t ... use prostitutes. He’s trying to make the country a better place, and if you don’t realise that about him by now you don’t know the man at all.”
Lin was frowning as she attempted to work it through her head. “So he’s creating pockets of utopia in certain areas of the city, and he thinks eventually he’ll be able to expand until he’s liberated the whole country?”
“Sanders may be an idealist but he’s not an idiot. Having one area free of crime is good enough for him right now.”
“Doesn’t Sanders realise prostitution’s a crime?”
“Look, I’m not getting into the ethics of the DCI with you, Lin. Fact is Sanders protects these girls and one of them is dead. He’s taken it hard and he’s making mistakes because of it. Now is that a good enough explanation for you? Can I go tell Rachael you’re taking over yet so I can go hunt this freak so we can all get back to some proper work?”
Lin looked a little ashamed of her interrogation of him, and so she should be. Baronaire refused to feel any remorse for being so harsh with her. At least she had stopped asking who Tammy was. “Sure,” she said. “Sorry.”
Baronaire said nothing more and marched upstairs. He paused at Rachael’s door and knocked gently. There was no reply, no sound at all from within. “Rach?” he whispered. “It’s me, can I come in a sec?” There was no answer, no stir of a body in slumber, no movement whatsoever. He closed his eyes, concentrating on what he could sense within the room. There was a slight draught beneath the door, undetectable to ordinary senses, and he could smell trees on the wind. He could sense only a lingering trace of Rachael’s unique scent, but nothing recent.
Fearing the worst, Baronaire turned the handle and found the door unlocked. The bed was made, a drawer lay open, and there was ample evidence that underwear had been hastily selected and removed. He wandered to the wardrobe and checked for clothes, finding several empty hangers. Also the window was open, and Baronaire’s suspicions were confirmed.
He found something on the bed and picked it up. Surprisingly Rachael had left him a note, which he thought was awfully decent of her. “Charles,” it read, “sorry about this, but I’m not gonna just wait for Johnson to come and slit my throat. You’ve been great, really you have, and I’m grateful for everything you’ve done. But I can’t stick around. Thanks for everything. Rach.”
Cursing, Baronaire went back downstairs. “She’s gone,” he said.
“Gone?”
“Out the window. Clearly Sanders is taking too long for her.”
“Where would she go?”
“I don’t know, I’m not a young woman running in fear of her life.” He knew he should not take this out on Lin, but as he stood there seething, his fists clenched by his sides, he just wished Sanders had handled this situation better. “I need you to check the train station, see if she’s there.”
“Baronaire, she’s not going to still be there. We need to think this through logically.”
“Damn it, there is no logic! She saw her best friend beaten to death, Lin. She’s not thinking straight!” He ran a hand through his hair, angry at himself for losing control. Baronaire did not like to lose control. There was a dark side to him he denied as much as he was able, but it was always there; and sometimes it scared even him.
“I’m going out,” he said, several deep breaths doing nothing to restore his calm.
The doorbell sounded and Baronaire cursed, stomping down the hall. He yanked it open to find the smiling form of his next door neighbour. “Evening, Charles,” Sid Matthews beamed. “I was just wondering whether you ...”
“Don’t ‘evening, Charles’ me, you little maggot.” Baronaire grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him inside, slamming the door and tossing him effortlessly down the hall. Matthews landed heavily, surprised at Baronaire’s strength. Lin helped him to his feet but Matthews was seething, his joviality dissipated entirely.
“Jeez, what’s with you, you loon?”
Baronaire growled and Matthews’s protests were stilled.
Lin explained in a calmer manner than Baronaire could have. “Rachael’s gone. Sneaked out the window.”
“Oh.”
“Oh,” Baronaire repeated, his tone dripping with ire. “Didn’t you and the little woman notice anything, Matthews? Or were the two of you too busy playing happy families in the bedroom to see a girl climb out a window?”
“Now just a minute, you’re the one in the house with her, Baronaire.”
Baronaire threw up his hands. “God, I don’t have time for this. The two of you do what you like, I’m going out to find Rachael.”
“And how are you going to do that exactly?” Matthews asked testily. “She could be anywhere by now.”
Baronaire did not answer. He had no intention of saying anything more to Matthews because it would likely be accompanied with a fist to the other man’s gut. If Rachael did not want to be found, Baronaire knew she would not be found. But he had formed a special bond with her. She trusted him, he liked to think she was even fond of him. She had left him a note because she thought he was a decent human being and that she owed him an explanation at least. And if she owed him that much, he owed her far more. It wasn’t every day that someone entrusted their life to Baronaire and he realised he was angry most of all because he had failed to protect the one woman who had actually seen beyond his gruff exterior.
He didn’t know what it was about Rachael, didn’t understand why he was reacting the way he was. If he was looking at someone else he would have called it infatuation, even love; but Baronaire was incapable of feeling either of those things. What it was he couldn’t say. He only knew she needed his protection still, and that he would not let her down a second time.
CHAPTER SIX
The night was dark, but within the city there were always lights; from houses, shops, cars driving through the blackness. Streetlamps shone their dimness to help light the way of anyone foolish enough to be out so late, even so far from the town centre. A young woman walked briskly on her journey home. Her legs were bare, a light cardigan was clasped about her: through cold or fear of the night perhaps. Her dark hair was long and straight, eyes running with both tears and mascara. Baronaire watched her from above. He did not know her, did not know anything about her. Perhaps she had been attacked; more likely she had just had an argument with her boyfriend. All Baronaire could say for certain was that she was alone and vulnerable, and unnatural feelings would ordinarily be churning within him at the sight of her.
But tonight Baronaire was not prowling for strays. His mind was on Rachael, his concern surprising even himself. He watched the unknown young woman reach the end of the street and turn a corner. She was gone from his life forever. A moment later Baronaire forgot she even existed.
Breathing in of the fresh night air, Baronaire focused on the scent. He had managed to track Rachael’s initial direction, but he was losing her. He knew it was through his own anxiety, that if he could jus
t concentrate he would be able to find her and take her back to the house. But then what? Sanders had botched the hunt for Johnson and Baronaire could not live with Rachael in the house forever. A part of him wanted to just track Johnson himself and solve the problem entirely; but that would not bring Rachael back. The longer Baronaire spent off her trail, the farther she got from him. Even if Johnson was arrested or killed, if Rachael disappeared forever it would not make a difference.
Again he questioned why he was even thinking such stupid thoughts. Of course everything would be solved if they just got to Johnson. Rachael didn’t matter: she was just a potential victim. If they took out the perp, Rachael was safe and could do whatever she liked. Baronaire and the others could go back to work and he could forget all about Rachael.
He wasn’t so sure he could do that, however. Or whether he even wanted to.
The scent came to him and he opened his eyes, staring out across the roofs ahead. Using powerful leg muscles, Baronaire pushed himself from the roof, effortlessly leaping clear across the street. Bouncing off a lamppost, he propelled himself to the next roof and scampered across the terraced houses on all fours. The residents within, snug in their beds, would likely think rats or pigeons were scurrying over their heads, but Baronaire did not much care what other people thought.
Five minutes later he came to a stop, the scent having fled. He cursed the changing of the wind and fought to regain the scent, but it had eluded him, dispersed upon the clear night air. Dropping to the pavement, he began to walk. Across the rooftops he was taking the most direct route, but Rachael would be on foot and if he was relying upon luck he would have to utilise the same methods of travel she was using.
An incessant beeping came from his outside pocket and he removed his phone. “What?”
“It’s Lin. I’ve checked the train station. She’s not here and I don’t think she has been.”
“You’re not telling me the staff work this late?”
“No, but there was a homeless guy next to the station and he didn’t remember anyone matching Rachael’s description going there tonight.” She paused. “Where are you now?”
Baronaire looked for a road name, entirely failed. “Out of luck. You want to ask that homeless guy where homeless people go to spend the night?”
“Wherever they can, I guess.”
Baronaire rounded the corner and stopped short. He had been so obsessed with finding Rachael he had completely forgotten the town’s layout. “I’ll call you back,” he said and terminated the call without awaiting a response. He was standing before a dark patch of land, where there were few streetlamps, where there were no cars, and no houses. It was the perfect place to try to lose oneself, especially if you didn’t want to be anywhere close to other people.
When Rachael had come to her worst it seemed she had headed directly for the darkness.
*
Rachael shivered. She sat upon the damp soil, her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms clasping her legs tightly. Her face was buried in her knees, but she was no longer crying. Her tears were all used up, and she had emerged from the experience stronger. Rachael had promised she would not feel sorry for herself, but would simply run and make a new life. She had run blindly and when she had come across the park realised it would be a good place to spend the night. A light rain had fallen and she had taken refuge beneath the shade of a weeping willow. There was a stream running close by, or a lake she supposed it might have been. It was difficult to be certain in the darkness and she had not come often enough to this park to know.
She had eaten some of her provisions, taking great care not to gorge herself. She would have clean, dry clothes in the morning, and that was the sole thought keeping her going. She had realised with some disdain that she had entirely forgotten, however, to pack her deodorant.
Beside her Blackie shifted in his sleep and she scratched his head absently. She had no idea how everything had gone wrong so quickly, but strangely enough her thoughts were not of herself. Every time she closed her eyes she brought to mind a gruff but caring face she had grown quite used to over the couple of weeks she had spent with him. Baronaire was an odd character, but he meant well and he was a good listener. It was peculiar to know he was not a shout away, to know that if something happened to her he would not be there to save her. Rachael had been afraid of Johnson for so long, but now she realised how safe she had been. She did not know why, but she knew Baronaire would never allow anything to happen to her. She had no idea who he really was, but he had been good to her. Even when she knew she had to look after herself, and only herself, she had still taken the time to make sure he wasn’t worried for her. She shouldn’t have cared, especially since he was just doing his job. She knew that once his work was ended he would go back to his boss and never think about her again. Just as she would return to the street and never give him another thought.
Why then was she thinking so much of him? All she could think about was that sneaky shopping trip he had insisted upon even though he knew it would get him in trouble. And the memory of his smile as she ate the food he had enjoying preparing ... that was an image which was helping her get through her night alone.
She buried her face further in her knees. Perhaps it had been a mistake to have fled, but she was committed now. There was no turning back.
Blackie was on his feet suddenly, growling into the darkness. Rachael looked up, frowning, but could see nothing through the blackness. She stared harder, hoping her eyes would adjust, but she could barely make out the water before her. Rising slowly, she brushed herself clear of grass and took a tentative step forward. She could hear nothing save the low growl of Blackie, and she wished she had thought to bring a torch with her.
A blur of blackness crossed her vision and she gasped as Blackie leapt into the night. The great dog collided with something and there was a shout of alarm. A human shout of alarm. Her eyes wide, her heart pounding, Rachael took a step backwards. She could see Blackie upon the ground, struggling with someone, and now her eyes were adjusting she could see further figures. One was grappling with Blackie, while a third was heading her way.
Rachael turned and fled, her foot twisting in the darkness. She caught herself and stumbled as she ran, and then someone grabbed her arm and she yelled. She felt herself violently yanked backwards, her back slamming into a chest built of iron as a second hand clamped across her mouth. She struggled in vain, her arms pinned, her kicking legs making no effect upon the man who held her.
She heard a splash as she was dragged back to the lake – she could see now it was a lake – and realised Blackie had been hurled into the water.
“Damn dog tore a chunk out of me,” one of the men was saying. She could see them now. Her eyes had adjusted and the moonlight provided more than enough for her to see by. The man who had cursed was nursing a bloody hand, while the second man looked as though he had been scratched more than bitten. All three men were huge powerhouses, and Rachael was instantly reminded of bouncers she had seen at a club a month back. She and Vicky had gone together, had a really good time, and had struggled through work with hangovers. She would have laughed at the memory were she not being held by a veritable iron gorilla. Vicky was dead, and she knew she was not far behind.
“Let’s get this over with,” the man holding her said.
The man with the scratches eyed Rachael slowly and a small and terrible smile crept onto his face. “What’s the rush, Max?”
“Boss wants this taken care of quickly,” Max said in a deadpan. “You know that, Russ.”
“Sure I know that. I just figure if she’s paid for it, she’s got to be good, right? Come on, Max, stop being such a rulebook.”
Max grunted. “You want to leave your DNA all over her, be my guest. Just gives me another liability to get rid of.”
Russ’s face fell slightly and Rachael felt as though her heart would explode. Her eyes were moist with tears she thought she no longer had, but she could not speak, could hardly breat
he. Her body was trembling, she felt physically sick and she was having trouble holding onto her bladder. But Russ finally shrugged and walked away. Rachael could not say whether she should be grateful to Max for that. Any time she could buy herself would be welcome, but it did not matter her profession; Rachael was still a woman and given the choice she would opt to die sooner.
How she wished Baronaire was still downstairs. None of this would have happened if she had just stayed in the house.
Max walked her to the lake; she was petrified and he was so strong that he hardly even had to drag her. She could smell the still waters now, could see the reeds growing through the surface. Max pushed her down, bending her knees, and crouched with her. Rachael tried to scream, but Max was far too strong and pushed her onto her stomach, kneeling beside her.
“You’ve ruined my trousers now, girl,” he told her. “I hate getting dirt on my trousers.”
His hand was removed and she tried to say something, anything, but her lips were trembling, her heart hammering and she could not even mumble an unnecessary apology.
Max took a handful of her hair in one meaty hand and placed his other upon her back. She realised what he was about to do and her eyes widened, a silent plea in her eyes. She stared into Max’s face and saw no flicker of emotion at all. And then he shoved her head through the surface of the lake.
All sound vanished. Only a dull pulse went through her mind, but the sounds of the night – of her attackers, of her own fear – were ended. Rachael automatically held her breath, but as she struggled she was more than aware her air was escaping in a flurry of crazed bubbles. She clawed at Max’s hand, but her attack was so ineffectual he did not even bother to bat her efforts away. Panic surged through her, and she breathed in slightly, feeling the lake enter her, finding no outlet. She tried to scream, floundered with her arms, and slowly her efforts subsided. Her body was relaxing, her pulse was slowing, and a strange sense of calmness was overtaking her. A part of her mind was still shouting at her to get out of the water, but it was slowly drifting away, replaced with a serenity she had not known in a long while.
