Devil's Pawn

by Levinson, Marilyn

  “Of course not!” I jumped out of my chair, knocking it over. “I love my aunt Lucinda! And if you’re going to start accusing me instead of going after the guy who did this, you’re wasting everyone’s time!”

  He moved a finger up and down. “Cool it, Simon, and sit. I had to ask.”

  I did as I was told.

  “I talked to Lucinda. She can’t remember who attacked her. That happens lots of times with head injuries. But she nearly blew a gasket when I suggested maybe you did it.” He grinned. “She insists you saved her life.”

  I shrugged. I’d gotten through, so far, but it wasn’t over.

  “I don’t for a minute believe you struck your aunt, then accompanied her to the hospital.” Sergeant Baker smiled. “Much less agreed to hang around here to talk to the police.”

  “Will Aunt Lucinda get police protection when she leaves the hospital? I don’t want someone taking another potshot at her.”

  “I can’t promise, but there’s a good chance she will. The Davenport family has deep roots in Buckley.”

  “Good to know.” I was hightailing it to the door when he called my name. I spun around, surprised to find myself staring into Sergeant Baker’s face. How did a man that large move so quickly and silently?

  He handed me a card. “I get the feeling you know more about this than you’re willing to say. Any time you want to talk, I’m willing to listen.”

  I looked down at the list of numbers. “Sure.” I turned again, ready to flee.

  “One more thing. I understand you came here by ambulance. How were you planning on getting home?”

  “Taxi, I guess.”

  “Why don’t you look in on Lucinda while I find a nurse who’s coming off a shift and can give you a lift home?”

  I smiled. “Thanks, Sergeant Baker. I’d appreciate that.”

  “Any time, Simon. Keep in touch.”

  I found Aunt Lucinda dozing peacefully. I kissed her cheek, then looked up Craig’s address. Fifteen minutes later, I was in a battered pickup truck belonging to a strapping black orderly named Topper Harding and halfway to Craig’s house. I’d told him I was spending the night with a friend. Topper was too busy describing the new smart phone he’d bought to ask any questions. I made the appropriate grunts of approval to show interest in the many advantages of his new phone, while I silently prayed I wasn’t too late to save a young girl’s life.

  I’d had the foresight to phone Aunt Mary to say I’d be staying overnight at Andy’s, then decided I would stay over there if I came out of this alive. Craig was bigger, older, and stronger than me, but I had to do what I could to prevent another killing.

  Topper turned onto Edison Street, where Craig lived. “That’s the house.” I pointed to a house that had lights shining from a window.

  “Here you go, then,” Topper said as he swung into the driveway.

  I hopped out and waved him on.

  “I’ll wait till someone lets you in,” he said.

  “No need,” I said. “Really. Thanks for the lift.” I prayed he’d back out of the driveway before someone came out, demanding to know what we wanted.

  Topper grinned. “Sure thing. Stop by and see me when you come visit your aunt.”

  I watched him drive away. Then I pulled out the slip of paper where I’d written Craig’s address. His house was halfway down the block.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw his SUV straddling the two-car driveway. He couldn’t possibly had had enough time to find a young girl and bring her to my uncle. I cringed as Raymond’s memory of a young girl with an awful plastic tube emerging from her mouth flitted across my mind. I had no idea how my uncle drained a child’s life force to make it his own. I had no idea how Craig intended to get the girl past Aunt Mary. Maybe that was why she was already sedated. She’d sounded awfully groggy when I called to say I’d be staying overnight at Andy’s. She’d be sound asleep by now.

  I suddenly remembered Craig’s telling my uncle that he’d be taking care of this matter later. Where on earth would he find a nine-year-old girl hanging around town close to midnight? Or did he sometimes break into homes?

  A light shone through the gauzy curtains of a second story window. Craig was getting ready for what he must be regarding as his second killing of the night. I had a problem wrapping my mind around the fact that the man was a hired assassin and a teacher. I’d seen him in school and at the day camp. Craig really liked kids. But he also killed kids. Kids he knew. How could he do this?

  Lucinda had mentioned something about Craig’s son, but we’d changed subjects before she’d told me the whole story. I couldn’t imagine what could have turned Craig into a monster as evil as Raymond.

  And now he was coming downstairs. He’d be outside in half a minute. I froze, not sure what to do. Ambush him? Try to reason with him? Neither would work.

  I pulled on the back door handle of the SUV. It was unlocked and opened easily. I was about to crawl inside when I realized I needed a weapon. A steel pipe lay across the floor. I lifted it, felt its heft. Maybe this was what Craig used to knock his victims unconscious. No, that was the red silken cord coiled on the passenger’s seat.

  The front door opened. I slid onto the floor of the back seat and closed the door quietly. A minute later, Craig got into the car. He turned and, while I feared my thumping heart would give me away, reached for the silken cord and stretched it over the back of the passenger seat. Then he switched on the motor and a CD blasted through the vehicle, hurting my eardrums. It was an opera aria sung in German; I wasn’t sure which, though I’d heard it before. Craig lowered the volume and sang along as he backed out of the driveway and drove on his way.

  Where were we headed? Craig maintained a steady speed of thirty, thirty-five miles an hour. He made several turns and stopped for a few lights, which meant we were still on local streets. We’d gone far enough to have passed the entrance to the Northway. Did Craig intend to choose his victim in Buckley? I shuddered to think he had access to the address of every nine-year-old girl who attended Shady Brook Day Camp. Was he planning to break into one of their homes? I gripped the metal pipe as I tried to anticipate his plan.

  Raucous music seeped into the SUV at the same time I caught sight of the houses. They were dilapidated with sagging porches and close to one another. This was the old section of town. The poor section. From the floor of the SUV, I could make out the heads of people sitting on stoops, kids gathered on a corner, music escaping from boom boxes and open windows. It was past midnight, but here on this warm August evening, many residents were socializing outdoors.

  The SUV slowed down to a crawl. Craig’s head bobbed from left to right. He’s searching for a victim. God, don’t let any little girl be outside all by herself. As he turned left, he shut off the AC and opened the window, letting in a blast of warm air. The street sounds grew louder. I heard girlish giggling.

  Maybe he won’t find a kid on her own. Who would allow a little girl to walk by herself in the middle of the night? Television laughter. A door slammed shut. Silence except for the pitter patter of a child skipping along.

  Craig applied the brakes. We stopped.

  “Excuse me, young miss. Where’s twenty-five thirty-six Elm Street?”

  The girl called from the sidewalk. “It’s around the corner, Mister. Good-night.”

  “Could you just tell me—should I turn back or make a left at the corner? I’ve circled twice and I must have missed Elm. I have to pick someone up for the station, and he’ll miss his train if I keep bypassing his house.”

  He sounded so kind, so concerned. I wanted to shout at the girl to run, run, as fast as she could.

  The girl giggled. “You can’t turn around. This is a one-way street.”

  “Oh. I didn’t realize. How do I get to Elm Street?”

  She moved closer to the car. “Go straight for two blocks. Then turn left. I’m not sure of the numbers.”

  “Okay. Will do.” Craig’s arm zipped out the window and
grabbed her around the throat. The girl began to cough. He opened his door, still holding onto the girl through the open window. She made sputtering noises but nothing loud enough to draw attention. Where is this kid’s mother? Doesn’t anyone care about her?

  I sat up and peered out the window. Craig was in the street, the girl tucked under one arm. He held a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming. She squirmed in his grip and pounded his back.

  “Stop that, you little—”

  Good girl! Keep on fighting! I yanked the key from the ignition and tossed it on the floor by the passenger’s seat. I grabbed the metal pipe and stepped out of the car. Craig must have struck the girl hard enough to cow her into submission, because she hung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, whimpering softly.

  “Let go of her!” I shouted.

  Craig spun around to stare at me. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Making sure you don’t hurt anyone else tonight. Put her down. She’s only a kid.”

  “Get out of my way!”

  Craig strode around the front of the car and yanked open the passenger door. In a minute he’d toss the girl inside and drive off. It was now or never! I pulled back my arm and slammed the metal pipe down on his exposed shoulder.

  The man was strong! He grunted from the pain and nearly dropped the girl, but recovered his balance and started pushing her inside. I whacked him again, this time on the side of his head. “That’s for Lucinda,” I snarled.

  “Ow!” Craig crumpled to the ground. The girl slid from his grasp, as limp as a rag doll. I grabbed her in time to stop her from falling. She was thin and wiry, smaller than Lucy, and terrified with fear. “Run!” I shouted. “Run home where it’s safe!”

  She nodded but remained frozen as Craig stumbled to his feet.

  “Go on!” I shoved her. She took off down the block.

  Craig moved toward me, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Why, you interfering—”

  I stepped back and picked up the pipe I’d let fall. “Keep away from me or this time I’ll smash your head in two.”

  “You and who else?” He inched closer. “Wait till your uncle hears how you screwed up his plans.”

  Should I hit him again or make a run for it? Craig had four inches and at least thirty pounds on me. I’d only managed to get in those whacks because he’d been carrying the girl.

  “There he is!”

  “Get him!”

  We both looked up at the three men running toward us. The girl must have told them what had happened. Craig pushed past me and jumped into the SUV. I sprinted off in the opposite direction. From the corner, I watched the men pounding on the car. The SUV came to life and sped away. Too bad. I should have thrown the keys out the window.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I FLED. A primal instinct drove me far and away from that god-awful scene. I ran until my chest hurt and my legs couldn’t carry me another step. I threw myself down on someone’s lawn, ignoring the dampness seeping through my jeans. I remained sprawled on the ground, heaving and panting until my pulse returned to normal. I had no idea where I was. Not that it mattered. For the moment, I was safe.

  A train whistle sounded. I sat up and looked around to get my bearings. When I spotted the water tower, I knew I was on the other side of Buckley’s downtown area. I got to my feet, ready to continue on. I was three miles from home.

  Home? Hah, that was a good one. I had no home.

  I started walking just to keep moving. I knew this neighborhood. I’d run through it many times. The houses were old and large, on plots three and four times bigger than those where my aunt and uncle lived. Many of them had detached garages and sheds. I veered off the main road and followed a curving one-lane path to a manor house beyond a copse of trees. Its owners were either away or fast asleep because there were no visible lights.

  I walked up the bluestone path to the front door, then around to the back. A pool glistened in the moonlight. I tried the door of the small cabana, and let out a sigh of relief when it opened. Phew! The place stank from chlorine and the odor of damp bathing suits, but I couldn’t be particular. Clean towels were piled on one of the shelves. I spread a few on the floor and stretched out. In minutes I was fast asleep.

  I awoke, achy and stiff, the next morning. Where am I? I experienced a terrifying moment of panic. Then last night’s events came crashing into my skull. I groaned, wishing I could trade the memory for the panic and not-knowing.

  I had no idea what I was going to do next, except that I needed a change of plans. Yesterday I’d saved two people’s lives, but that was like putting a finger in the dike. Raymond was a monster. The devil. He’d sent Craig Averil out to do his dirty work, and sooner or later Craig would kill more kids as he’d done in the past.

  I gnawed at my lip, thinking I’d made a big mistake not telling the cop that Craig Averil had attacked Lucinda. Then I remembered she hadn’t actually seen Craig and might have said so to the cop. Though I’d witnessed Craig trying to abduct that little girl, it was my word against his. And even if they found the girl, they might not believe her. I shook my head in disgust. I had no hard proof to bring against a man with the reputation of being an excellent teacher and a law-abiding member of the community.

  I had to leave Buckley! I had to convince Aunt Grace there was no way I could survive in this town. She had to take me with her and Lucy when they left the U. S.! If we needed money, I’d quit school and take whatever job I could find. Aunt Grace had to realize my life was over if I stayed here another day. I’d get Lucy to convince her. Lucy was only a kid, but she was smart and mature for her age. She was calling Saturday. Tomorrow.

  I reached into my jeans pocket. My cell phone was gone! I jammed my hand into my left-hand pocket. Empty. Frantically, I checked my back pockets. No phone.

  Where was it? Had it fallen out when I was crawling around in the back of Craig’s SUV? Had that creep found it? Could he trace Lucy’s phone calls? My heart thudded against my ribs as I considered what would happen if Lucy called and Craig answered. Craig would trace the call and go after Lucy. And then…

  I started hyperventilating. I sank onto the bench of the cabana and forced myself to take cleansing breaths. I needed to be calm. To cool down and clear my mind. Otherwise I’d go off half-crazed and make mistakes. I couldn’t afford another mistake. My sister’s life depended on it.

  I wanted to retrace my steps and chase down my cell phone. Maybe I’d lost it in the street when I went after Craig. Or left it in my room, hidden among my things. Think back! Had I used it to call Lucinda?

  Yes! No. I’d contacted her using the numbers she’d told me to memorize. And when I got to her house, I’d called 911 on her phone. My cell phone could be anywhere—in my uncle’s house, Lucinda’s house, the hospital, or Craig’s SUV.

  I pushed open the door of the cabana, checked to make sure no one was around, then stepped outside. It was a sunny August morning. As I walked toward the road, I heard the sound of a lawnmower. A dog barked. Cars sped by in both directions, carrying people to work, school, or wherever they were headed. It was the start of another ordinary day for most people. For people who weren’t related to Raymond Davenport. Who weren’t the devil’s pawn.

  I stood at the curb of the road and stretched out my muscles, and then I started to run. I paced myself and jogged slowly toward the center of town. The large clock on the second story of the bank building said eight o’clock. Without having made a conscious decision, I turned in the direction of my aunt and uncle’s house.

  I had to know if my phone was still in its hiding place. If it wasn’t, I’d retrace my steps to every place I’d been the night before and pray I found it before Craig or my uncle discovered its whereabouts. I ran past the last light on Main Street. Only a few blocks to go. Maybe I’d be lucky and the phone would be there. And if it was, then what? Grab a few of my things and catch a bus out of town? No. I had to think this through. I almost laughed aloud. I’d have enough
time to shower, change clothes, and catch the camp bus.

  But why go to camp when I was about to make my big break? I had better things to do with my time like—I couldn’t think of anything at the moment. Still, it was best to act as normal as possible until I’d figured things out.

  Craig would be furious at me for ruining his plans. He probably wanted to kill me. But he wouldn’t kill me. I smiled as it dawned on me that Craig wouldn’t harm a hair of my head. Not as long as dear Uncle Raymond called the shots.

  I doubted Craig, tough as he was, had dared to risk another killing last night. Which meant—I found myself grinning—my uncle must be pretty damn weak right now.

  I opened the front door and breathed in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Though I didn’t drink coffee, I used to love the way it made our house smell each morning when Lucy and I came downstairs for breakfast. Tears welled up as I suddenly remembered my parents rushing about before going to work, Lucy complaining she couldn’t find her favorite shirt. I started for the stairs, eager to search for my cell phone, when Aunt Mary appeared in the hall.

  “Simon! I’m so glad you’re home!” She threw her arms around me. “Please don’t ever do this again! You must tell me if you plan to stay out. I care about you, you know.”

  Doesn’t she remember I called? Of course not. She’d been drugged. “I called to tell you I was staying over at Andy’s.” I held my breath, hoping she hadn’t called the Coltranes.

  Puzzled, Aunt Mary put a hand to her cheek. “Did you? How could I have forgotten?”

  I kissed her. “Probably because you were half asleep when I called. I’d better jump in the shower quickly if I’m to make the camp bus on time.”

  “I’ll toast a muffin for you.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Mary.”

  She put her finger to her lips. “Try not to wake up your uncle. He’s had a bad night.”

  I nodded. Waking Raymond was the last thing I wanted. I raced up the stairs, eager to know if I needed to start a wild hunt for my cell phone. I’d reached the landing and was turning toward my bedroom when my uncle called to me.