Killer Girls

by Martin Barkawitz

  ‘Sure, sweetheart. Just as soon as you start talking. Then I’ll get you a nice soft drink.’

  ‘But I don’t know anything!’ Kea pleaded.

  ‘Wrong answer again,’ Lucia exclaimed. Kea expected more blows. But her torturer seemed to have other ideas. Instead, she emptied the contents of Kea’s handbag on the table before her. Powder pad, purse, passport, Smartphone, a packet of tissues and an assortment of other things landed on the table.

  Including Tom’s little bag!

  It was the item to which Lucia’s intuition seemed to guide her. She held the item up and shook it before Kea’s eyes.

  ‘And what have we got here?’

  Kea might have dropped to the floor had she not already been sitting. She sensed her problems had only just started.

  ‘I …’

  Lucia did not wait for an explanation but zipped the bag open. Her eyes tightened. Then she reached with finger and thumb for the baby dummy and held it under Kea’s nose.

  ‘And what is that, you snake in the grass? I was almost beginning to believe you. I thought you were naïve, even dumb. How wrong can a person be? For the last time! What have the two of you done with Adrian?’

  Kea realized that tears ran over her face. She saw Lucia as through a veil.

  ‘Please…’

  Lucia threw the dummy on the table and pointed at it with an accusing finger.

  ‘I personally bought this thing for Adrian. So forget acting innocent.’

  ‘Adrian is a baby?’ Kea managed to squeak with trembling voice.

  Lucia made no reply. It seemed, she disliked being questioned. Instead, she drew her pistol and pressed the barrel against Kea’s forehead.

  It was strange. A short time ago, in the boot of the car, Kea had wanted to die. Right now that prospect seemed far from attractive. Quite the opposite; she feared the bullet in the gun that seemed reserved for her.

  ‘Stop lying to me, you bitch!’ Lucia hissed from between clenched teeth. ‘You think I'm stupid?’

  Kea had no idea what to answer. But she realized she had to react or die. It was more than she could dare to increase Lucia’s anger.

  ‘I’m not lying,’ she breathed. ‘And you … are a killer.’

  Lucia laughed but sounded far from amused.

  ‘Wrong, sweetheart. I’m a child’s nurse.’

  Kea must have looked stupidity personified. So dumb, that Lucia dropped the hand with the gun. But if Kea had hoped she might untie her, she was mistaken. When Lucia opened her mouth again, it was as if she talked to herself.

  ‘I should have traveled to Europe with Adrian, then none of this would have happened. But it was impossible. His parents are devastated. Adrian’s dad drinks himself into a stupor day and night and his mum is out this world on a psycho trip. All she does is read the damned book about the Lindbergh baby. You know what happened to that child?’

  Kea sensed Lucia was totally distraught by Adrian’s mysterious fate. She searched for something to say. All she could do was to think back. She remembered her discussions and situations. Had there been anything, some hidden clue she might have overlooked? What about the call in the taxi? Tom had not told her with whom he had spoken. But he had been mad, that much was certain.

  With sudden awareness she saw where her thoughts carried her.

  It was as if a curtain in her mind had suddenly opened. Tom, the man she had loved, must have been involved in the kidnapping!

  Before her, Lucia suddenly looked more desperate than full of hate. Kea could almost feel sorry for her although a few moments ago that would have been impossible.

  ‘Listen!’ She said in a voice that seemed strange even to herself. ‘In the taxi from the airport, Tom talked with someone on his mobile. I could not understand what it was all about. All I know that he became very agitated, almost wild.’

  Lucia immediately dug deeper.

  ‘Who did he speak to? Was it a woman or a man? Did the voice sound old or young? Was it a local or an intercontinental call? Could he have spoken with someone in Europe?’

  ‘I don’t know, I …’

  ‘What, the hell, do you know?’ Lucia struck her forehead with a fist. ‘I’m an idiot. Why didn’t I take his Smartphone before we hightailed out of there?’

  ‘What’s going on, ladies?’

  Both Kea and Lucia suddenly stopped, startled by the voice. Neither of them had noticed the young man who had stepped into the office. He wore a violet dressing gown over his pajamas and had pushed a black sleeping mask up on his forehead.

  He seemed not in the slightest surprised to find Kea tied up and Lucia with a pistol in her hand.

  The child nurse rolled her eyes.

  ‘Have we interrupted your beauty sleep, brother dear?’

  The man in pajamas smiled.

  ‘I admit, for a moment I was annoyed. But when I look closer at your charming friend I’ll forgive you.’

  Lucia pointed the pistol at Kea.

  ‘She’s not my friend but a stupid German bitch who flew in with Adrian’s kidnapper a couple of hours ago. If you really must know, her name is Kea.’

  The man winked at Kea with a smile.

  ‘My sister isn’t always so impolite. And my instinct tells me, you had nothing to do with the disappearance of the baby.’ He stopped for a moment. ‘Since we’re at the introductions, Lucia … would you like to say a few kind words to Kea about me?’

  Lucia sighed theatrically.

  ‘Only if it’s absolutely necessary --- this funny bird is my brother Mario, a drop-out Harvard student, former inmate of the loony bin, Dark Net surfer, night owl and professional computer criminal. Oh, I almost forgot. He loves to act the intellectual. Especially when he tries to get a pretty, but dumb chick in his bed.’

  Mario spread his arms in a helpless, comical expression.

  ‘The strongest character trait of my sister is her utter, uncompromising honesty, as you may already have noticed. Or as Jean-Paul Sartre said: ‘The sensible person suffers not of this or that reason, but simply since nothing in this world can satisfy his longing.’

  ‘Think about what I have told you about Mario’s intellectualism. Next thing he’ll have his hands all over you. But I didn’t bring the stupid bitch as your sex toy, brother dear. She has to tell us everything about Adrian’s fate.’

  Lucia’s first sentences were directed at Kea. The rest at Mario.

  Her captive had lost some of her anxiety with the appearance of the young man. He seemed more sensible and controlled than his brutal sister. Was Lucia really just a child nurse? Her strong feelings for the disappeared baby Adrian seemed to be real at least.

  And Kea wanted more than anything to help her. Not only because she loved children. She had hoped to have a large family with Tom. That thought brought back the inner desperation of her soul.

  The fact was, she knew nothing about the kidnapped baby.

  Lucia stepped close up to Kea. Close enough that her perspiration could no longer be hidden behind a cloud of cheap perfume.

  Lucia grabbed her chin.

  ‘Look at me when I talk to you! You’re weak as dishwater, that I realized at once. I doubt I shall have to tear off only one of your fingernails to make you talk.’

  She pointed down at Kea’s carefully manicured hands. The visit to the nail studio had cost a small fortune before the flight to New York. Suddenly Kea regretted having quarreled with her parents over Tom. If only she were back at her hometown Delmenhorst now, instead of in this stinking, derelict factory …

  The longing for her home hit her harder that a punch to the stomach.

  Kea was still desperately thirsty. But she dared not ask for a drink. She could not even struggle to say a word. Her only reaction was to shake her head helplessly.

  Lucia uttered a bitter laugh. She reached for a rusty pair pliers on an equally rusty metal chest of drawers covered in spider webs and dust. Kea asked herself, how many answers this fury had wrung from others in a similar s
orry position as she was in.

  It was better not to know.

  ‘Is that really necessary?’, asked Mario as his sister reached for Kea’s right wrist. Kea had hoped he might come to her aid. But he stood motionless in the dirty room, not much more than a step from the two women, his hands in the pockets of his robe. Kea’s teeth began to chatter, her stomach contracted in fear. She despised herself over her weakness, her own cowardice. Buy there was nothing she could do. And all this before Lucia had even touched her.

  A telephone rang.

  Lucia cursed and took her Smartphone from her pocket.

  Kea heard a few excited sentences by the caller without understanding the words. Her torturer to be stood close enough before her.

  ‘Right now? I have some important business to finish … then I’m on my way. Ciao.’

  She switched the phone off and replaced it in her pocket before mustering Kea with a long, angry look.

  ‘This must be your lucky day, bitch. You can enjoy your ten lovely nails a little longer in my brother’s company. But I’ll be back. That’s a promise.’

  She turned to Mario.

  ‘Can you manage to watch that stupid cow for half an hour without raping her?’

  Kea’s heart missed a beat, but he only laughed.

  ‘Don’t listen to my sister, her humor needs some getting used to. I’m not the type she likes to paint me.’

  Lucia swallowed an answer. Instead, she hurried from the dingy office. A little later Kea heard the engine of the Chevrolet start up and fade away.

  Mario stepped closer with catlike movements that reminded her of a tiger stalking his prey.

  Had he really been a psychiatric patient? Or had Lucia only invented that to frighten her? At least he was sure to be related to her. If one compared the faces, the similarity was obvious.

  ‘Don’t be afraid.’ He said with a smile worthy of a toothpaste advertisement. ‘Lucia loves Adrian truly as if he were her own. She sacrificed everything for the child. It was as if she had some dark presentiment when Jim and Valeria left for Europe without her. Unfortunately, her fears were not misplaced.’

  Mario expressed himself well. Without a doubt, he was educated. Had he really discontinued his studies at the elite Harvard university? But for what reason?

  ‘Jim and Valeria are Adrian’s parents?’ Kea inquired.

  Mario nodded.

  ‘I don’t think you have the faintest idea what is going on here. Am I right?’

  The tone of his voice expressed an undisguised sympathy. Could she trust him? Or was he really a rapist? If the later was the case, why had he not already attacked her? Was it just that he liked to see her frightened?

  ‘I really don’t know what is going on. And I’m terribly thirsty.’

  ‘Why haven’t you said so before? You must take me for a mean host.’

  With these words he turned toward a small refrigerator in one corner. Only now did Kea notice the humming of a generator. The electricity that had surely been disconnected from the deserted factory had to come from somewhere.

  Mario fetched a can of lemonade from the ice box and brought it to Kea. She might have laughed over her situation, had it not been so serious. She had lost her great love and seriously thought of killing herself. And now she longed for nothing more than a drink from a can and to be saved from losing a fingernail or two, or being raped by the man before her.

  Was she going mad? Was it just the shock from all that had happened after she had hardly set foot on American soil?

  She could not drink from the can since Lucia had tied her arms behind her back. Mario opened the can for her and placed it to her lips.

  The ice-cold liquid fizzed and tasted of oranges. At this moment, Kea felt as if never before in her life had she gulped anything so delicious.

  ‘Taste good?’ Mario asked smiling pleasantly.

  She could only nod in answer.

  ‘Then you shall have more.’

  She drank greedily. And then it happened!

  Mario spilled more than half of the liquid that suddenly pearled over her blouse and jacket. She cried, more from surprise and less from feeling the sudden coldness on her skin uncomfortably.

  She glanced down at herself and realized in alarm that she looked like Miss Wet-T-Shirt. Her bra was clearly outlined under the blouse.

  Suddenly, a terrible thought struck her. Had Mario spilled the orangeade on purpose just to enjoy seeing her body clearer?

  He breathed deeply as if embarrassed.

  ‘Please excuse me for being such a blunderbuss. You’ll catch a cold in your wet things. Luckily, my sister has about the same size as you --- I’ll be back in a moment.’

  He hurried away and left her with her thoughts.

  The wet, cold blouse really felt uncomfortable, but that was the least of her worries. Was it possible, Mario was playing a cruel game with her hopes?

  And how could she convince Lucia she had known nothing of Tom’s business? Whether her friend had really been involved in a kidnapping?

  Kea could not believe such an accusation. There had to be another explanation. But how did Lucia know Tom’s name? And why had she been present when the shooting had started? Kea knew she had to find the answer to these questions, or they would drive her mad.

  The squeak of door hinges intruded into her thoughts.

  Mario had returned with an armful of clothes. He too had changed and no longer wore his housecoat but jeans and a grey roll neck jumper.

  ‘Here we are. I picked whatever came to hand. I must admit I don’t bother with what is fashionable and I don’t know whether the dresses fit or you like them. And I brought a towel for you to dry yourself.’

  How am I supposed to manage that with my hands tied behind my back?

  It was as if he could read her mind. Mario loosened the ties around her wrists.

  ‘I shall be a gentleman and retire to my room while you can change unobserved. I’ll be back in ten minutes and tell you everything I know about Adrian’s disappearance. Okay?’

  Kea nodded without a word while she massaged her numb wrists. Slowly the feeling returned to her cold fingers, her blood circulated again.

  Mario bowed before he turned and left the office. Was that her chance of escape?

  Kea stripped, toweled her upper body and put Lucia’s clothes on – as if it were an irony of nature to wear the attire of her worst enemy? Not for a moment did Kea doubt the child’s nurse would use any means to get the information she was looking for. And she remembered how quickly and efficiently Lucia had sent the two killers to their death.

  Where was Mario’s bedroom?

  It could be anywhere in this large and deserted factory complex. Would ten minutes be enough to leave the area? And what if Lucia should discover her before she had made good her escape? Her hands trembled so much, she could hardly close the zip of her jeans.

  At least, Mario’s judgment of sizes had been excellent. Her new attire fitted as if Kea herself had selected it although they were not what she might have chosen. The jeans had decorative holes at the knees and thighs, the sweatshirt was a garish pink and the dark blue hoodie bore the letters BROOKLYN TIGERS.

  Kea felt well disguised.

  According to her wristwatch, barely four minutes had passed since Mario had left. Her greatest enemy at this time was her fear. She started to perspire as she moved toward the door. But the feeling eased a little after a few steps.

  She told herself to speed up her snail’s pace. If Lucia returned now, she would be finished. Anything else would only be an illusion.

  When she opened the door she cast anxious looks around the large factory hall. Mario’s room could be anywhere or nowhere.

  Really? He had been disturbed from his sleep by the arrival of the two young women. At least, that was what he had said. Which meant the bedroom could not be too far off.

  Another reason to find an exit as quickly as possible. But as she hurried with trembling knees through the
hall, her eyes searching for a way out, her foot struck an empty can.

  The sound seemed as loud as the collapse of a skyscraper to her ears. If Mario had not suddenly been struck deaf he was bound to have heard the noise.

  She started to run.

  At school, she had been very good at sports, but her condition had worsened during the past few years. Only the fear of death drove her on now, sharper than the lash of a slave driver.

  Her eyes burned. She ran to the wide sliding door before her. Had Lucia driven that way with her Chevrolet when she had left? It was wide enough, that was sure and Kea could see no other exit.

  Ten minutes!

  She dared not look at her watch, but thought she had dawdled longer than that already. And there was the added danger that Mario could arrive any second. What would he do if he discovered her escape? Up until now he had been pleasant enough, considering the circumstances. But if she caused troubles …? She forced herself not to think further. Instead, she reached with both hands for the iron handle of the sliding door.

  She pulled.

  Nothing.

  Sweat poured over her back, wetting her new clothes. How could it be possible? The door lock had to be faulty. Yet she could see a small gap between the edge of the door and the wall. There had to be a way out.

  She simply had not tried hard enough.

  But her life and freedom were at stake, the life that suddenly seemed precious to her again. She clenched her teeth and pressed her feet hard against the floor. She had kept her own shoes – and underwear.

  At last, the heavy door moved, if only a few inches. She only needed a small gap to slip through for luckily she was slender, almost thin. Tom had always complimented her sweetly over her figure and …

  No!

  She could not think of him at this moment. She needed all her strength to open the door. Never before had it been necessary to bear all her strength on a task. Lucia must have opened it when she had driven the Chevrolet outside. Was it possible that this child’s nurse was stronger than her?

  Kea had no idea.

  All she knew was that she never wanted to see this fury or her brother again.

  Finally, she succeeded with the last of her strength to create a gap wide enough to allow her to slip outside to freedom.