Kill Switch: A Vigilante Serial Killer Action Thriller (Angel of Darkness Suspense Thriller Series Book 1)

by Steve Lee

  As she passed, the Brit with a pimple on his nose nudged Gazza. “Fuck me, Gazza! And you thought you were going to shag that? Jesus, she’d have bloody killed you, mate.”

  Tess exited the club.

  She shook her head. Jesus, why was it so difficult to have a quiet goddamn drink in this country?

  She marched along the street, regularly checking behind her to ensure the bouncers hadn’t decided there was strength in even greater numbers.

  Now what? Another bar or call it quits for the day?

  Chapter 06

  With a stunning blue sky declaring what a beautiful world it was, Tess strolled across the cobbled square toward Town Hall Tower. In an area that could hold thousands of people, only the odd business person prepared for another day’s toil. The emptiness gave the square strange feel. Like in a horror movie after a plague had decimated the population and the camera panned over deserted city streets which normally teemed with people.

  Passing the Cloth Hall, its colonnade of stone arches more a setting for a romance than a horror movie, Tess checked her watch – 6:26 a.m. She’d give anyone ten-to-one odds she wouldn’t see Elena for at least another hour. Maybe two. After Elena had insisted on another couple of beers in the bar last night, Tess wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t show up at all. To Tess, three strong European beers was a decent drink, but to fragile old Elena, with barely an ounce of meat on her bones, it must have been like a falling into a vat of whisky and trying to drink her way out.

  Tess rounded the corner of the tower. She needn’t have worried – Elena waved at her, sitting on the steps between the two stone lions.

  Well, if Cat had the strength her mother had, they had a good chance of finding her before it was too late. Unless, of course, it was already too late.

  “Morning,” Tess said with a grin, “I was worried you wouldn’t make it on time.”

  Elena looked bemused. “Why?”

  “Because of all the beer last night.”

  “Three beers?” Elena laughed. “Oh my, you should have seen me when I was your age.”

  “You enjoyed partying?”

  “No. I just enjoyed an average social life. We Eastern Europeans enjoy our beer – why do you think we have so many of them? So, where are we going first?”

  Tess took a breath, not wanting to ruin the atmosphere. “You do appreciate that what we find could be very upsetting.”

  Elena’s lightheartedness vanished in an instant. “More upsetting than the pictures I see in my mind every time I think about the nightmare Cat’s trapped in?”

  “Let’s hope not,” Tess said, “Okay, before the streets are overrun by tourists, I want to walk the route we think Cat took to see if we can find anything she might have dropped.”

  After the fight the previous night, Tess had gone to bed. Red Riot’s staff would have circulated warnings about her to other bars, so there had been little point in visiting anywhere else. Now, all she could do was go back to the original plan she’d formulated before she’d heard the Brits chatting.

  Elena held out her hand to Tess. Tess took it and eased the lady up off the steps. Elena groaned as she clambered to her feet.

  “I’m sorry,” said Elena, “but it takes me a while to get going once I stop. So where first?”

  Tess pointed to Bracka Street in the area of the Old Town they’d identified last night as where Cat had probably been looking for work just before she disappeared.

  Walking slowly, Tess said, “Do you remember exactly what Cat was wearing and had with her?”

  “Yes, it was what she’d had to wear for two days because all our clothes had been stolen with everything else.”

  “So did she have pants or a dress, a bag, an umbrella, a head scarf…?”

  Without any hesitation, Elena said, “White canvas shoes, pale blue skirt, white blouse, navy canvas purse. No scarf. No umbrella.”

  “And you’d recognize any of those if you saw them?”

  “I think so, yes.”

  “Did she have sunglasses with her? Jewelry? A handkerchief? Anything distinctive in her purse?”

  Elena thought for a moment. “She wore a thin silver necklace and matching anklet, and silver ear studs. And she had her passport and some personal documents with her; a little money; a small wallet with photos she always carried with her and, er… er… I don’t know what it’s called – a small green plant with leaves – it usually has three but sometimes you find one with four so you keep it for good luck.”

  “A four-leaf clover?”

  “Yes, she always kept it with her in a little plastic wallet.”

  “Okay. So if she was, er…” How could she put it without Elena picturing horrors?

  “If she was taken?” Elena said.

  Tess nodded solemnly. “She could easily have lost some jewelry or something from her purse.” She pointed to Bracka. “We’ll walk up one side and down the other to make sure we don’t miss anything.”

  If they found something, maybe it would be strong enough evidence for the police to take the possibility of an abduction seriously. Tess had little faith in the police – they’d failed her so badly, how could she ever trust them again? – but the more eyes that were looking for Cat the better.

  But whether the police became involved or not, finding something that belonged to Cat would show them where she’d been taken. Finding the scene of the crime would be the first step in solving it.

  Shuffling along the sidewalk, Tess inspected the cracks between the uneven paving stones and the trash in the gutter, hoping they’d find something, but praying it wouldn’t be bloodstained.

  They scoured the left-hand side of the street further than they’d decided Cat might have ventured – going beyond the Franciscan Church, famous for its Art Nouveau interior which blazed with murals in blues, greens and yellows, and on into the far side of the park which circled the Old Town. Afterward, they crawled down the other side of the street, even taking a detour up a side alley that might have caught Cat’s eye.

  Despite proceeding at a torturously slow pace to ensure they searched every inch of both sidewalks and the road, they found nothing.

  They plodded back to the square and up the next street leading off it.

  To their dismay, the same search methodology delivered the same sluggish results – absolutely squat.

  Unfortunately, Krakow was now waking up and going about its day – traffic grunted along its narrow streets and pedestrians bustled along the sidewalks.

  Elena stopped and leaned over the edge of the curb to peer between the bars of a grate in the gutter.

  Having to move out of the way of a woman with a baby stroller, Tess looked up from examining every tiny crevice in the sidewalk. “Elena, I— Oh, Jesus!”

  Tess lunged at the lady. She grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her back from the curb. A delivery truck tore by that could have taken her head off.

  Searching the sidewalk with pedestrians rushing all around had become more and more frustrating, while searching the road had become more and more hair-raising. No, it was time for a different tack, for a more hands-on approach.

  “It’s getting too busy.” Tess looked at her watch: 8:10. “I think it’s time we try to trace the places Cat went to and see where that takes us.”

  “If you think that’s best.”

  They tramped back to the first street they’d searched. Most cafés and hotels were open, so Cat would have been actively looking for work at this time yesterday. If they could find the right place and the right staff, they could map out where she’d been and when. If they could discover the last place and time Cat was spotted, maybe they could find a witness to what had become of her or, better yet, CCTV footage from a security camera.

  Tess pulled open the big wooden door of Hotel Amber Wawel.

  “Remember, just as we discussed – don’t get emotional, don’t get confrontational, treat it as a simple inquiry, like asking for directions. Ask if they were working aroun
d this time yesterday, ask if they remember Cat, and if not, ask if anyone else was working who you could talk to. Oh, and ask if they know Jacek Grabowski.”

  Tess couldn’t speak Polish, so unless the staff they encountered spoke English, Elena was going to have to do all the talking. Plus, on her travels, Tess had found that talking to someone in their own language often made them more amenable and more likely to help her.

  With an assortment of large, leafy plants in bronze pots dotted about, the hotel looked pleasant enough, though the dust and cobwebs on the plants didn’t bode well for the cleanliness of the rooms.

  Tess and Elena approached Reception. A man wearing round-rim glasses smiled and said something with a light, welcoming tone.

  Elena said hello and asked him a question, to which he nodded. Then she showed him her photo of Cat.

  He looked at it, but then winced and said something in a deeper tone of voice. Tess didn’t need Elena to translate.

  Back on the street, Tess squeezed Elena’s arm. “Don’t get disheartened. That was only the first place. I’m not going to stop until we find out what’s happened. Okay?”

  Elena patted Tess’s hand, but said nothing. Had Elena realized how carefully she’d chosen her words? Tess hadn’t said she wouldn’t stop until she found Cat, but until she found what had happened. There was a gigantic difference. But she couldn’t promise what she knew she couldn’t deliver.

  Methodically, they moved along the street, going to every hotel, hostel, café, and restaurant at which they imagined Cat might have sought work. No one had seen Cat.

  If the basic premise of their plan was flawed – if they’d identified the wrong part of the Old Town in which to search – their job would be ten times more difficult because they’d have to scour the entire city. And that created a huge problem: time.

  Tess heaved a breath, staring at her watch but not actually registering the time. She had to pick up Cat’s trail now. Not that afternoon, not tomorrow, not the next day. Now. If she didn’t, it would become harder and harder to find her because witnesses’ memories would fail and physical evidence would either degrade or be lost completely.

  But so far, they’d found no evidence and no witnesses. That meant some element of their plan was wrong.

  Trudging back to the square, Tess unzipped her leather jacket, the day turning out to be not just bright, but warm.

  “Are you sure it was this area Cat was going to explore?”

  “This is where she said, yes,” Elena said.

  “So maybe it’s the kind of work we’ve got wrong so we’re going to the wrong kinds of places. What other kind of work could she have looked for, other than cleaning rooms or washing dishes?”

  Elena took a gulp from the bottle of water Tess had bought her and then said, “She can’t speak Polish to be able to talk to people, so she couldn’t be a store clerk, a waitress, or anything like that. What other kind of work could she do?”

  Elena’s logic was sound, so if their plan was flawed, it was in the area they were searching.

  But that caused its own headache.

  They had no option, but to continue until they’d exhausted all the possibilities in this part of the Old Town. They couldn’t risk giving up because the very next place which they skipped could be the very place they’d stumble upon Cat’s trail.

  Back in the square, street performers and buskers attracted small crowds. Appreciative audience members dropped cash into hats, bags or instrument cases.

  As they ambled along the gray cobbles, Tess paused for a moment to watch a man in a blue-and-white striped tuxedo juggling two carving knives, an axe and a meat cleaver. Sergei had taught her how to throw a blade, but she’d never dreamed of juggling with them. She dropped five zlotys into a brown Burlap bag in front of him and turned away. Elena had disappeared.

  Tess slowly turned in a circle, studying all the faces of the people enjoying the sun in this beautiful medieval city. She spotted Elena talking to a man with a braided beard sitting at an easel. Dotted around on the patch of square he’d claimed were pencil drawings of celebrities. They were so good that anyone could see at a glance who they were supposed to be – Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, Bruce Lee, Elvis.

  Tess waited for two brown horses to plod past pulling a white, four-wheel carriage, the family riding inside grinning from ear to ear as their young son took selfies of them all squashed together on the rear seat. Before Tess could cross, a couple of guys on rented Segways zipped by. Finally, she ambled over to Elena.

  The bearded artist studied the photo of Cat and nodded, then handed it back and said something in Polish. Elena thanked him.

  “Has he seen her?” asked Tess.

  “I wasn’t asking about that. I wanted to know if he could copy my photograph but make it much bigger.”

  Tess took Elena’s hands in hers. “Listen, I can imagine what’s going through your mind right now, but you have to stay positive. Unless we learn something to the contrary, Cat is alive. And as long as she’s alive, we can find her. Okay?”

  A tear trickled down Elena’s cheek. She squeezed Tess’s hands. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “You’re welcome. Just don’t expect miracles. Okay?”

  Elena heaved a breath. “I just shudder at the thought of what she’s going through and that I might never see her again.”

  Tess hung her head. The situation was heartbreaking, and though she was doing her best, it simply wasn’t good enough. She wasn’t good enough. But what else could she possibly do?

  “I can’t make you any promises except this one,” Tess said. “I won’t stop until either Cat’s safe or those responsible have paid for what they’ve done to her.”

  Throwing her arms around Tess, Elena hugged her.

  “You’re a good person, Tess. Your parents must be very proud.”

  Now it was Tess’s turn to get choked up. She’d never known her mother. Or her father. And the only person who’d ever been there for her…

  But this was not the time to think of what was waiting for her in Manhattan. Distractions clouded judgment and poor judgment cost lives. Focus. Focus would get the job done and see the guilty pay for their crimes.

  Tess hugged Elena back. “Please, you’ll have people thinking you’re a rich old lesbian and I’m your gold-digging plaything.”

  Elena laughed. Not a gutsy belly laugh, but a laugh as refined as her English.

  “You’re a beautiful young woman, Tess, so don’t take this the wrong way, but give me a big, fat dick any day of the week.”

  Tess snickered and shook her head. Such language from such a gentle soul. It always amazed Tess how people were such a constant source of joy and surprise.

  “Sorry,” said Elena, “did I use bad English?”

  “No. No, you got your message across perfectly.” She shook her head again and patted Elena on the shoulder. “Ready to bet back to the search?”

  “Whatever you think is best.”

  Tess pointed to the next street leading off the square. “That one?”

  Elena nodded. “You just say. I’ll follow.”

  Walking at Elena’s pace, that of a seventy-year-old with knee trouble, it was going to take forever to get around to all the establishments they had to. Ideally, she’d have liked to have finished this morning, but that was never going to happen. It was a pity she couldn’t speak Polish so she could dash around doing it at her own pace.

  Probably sensing Tess was walking slowly solely for her benefit, Elena said, “We can go faster, if you like.”

  It was better to go slow and steady, than have to quit before they’d finished because Elena was exhausted.

  Tess said, “No, this is fine.”

  “Tess?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Would you mind if I asked you something?”

  “Of course not.”

  “How do you do what you do?”

  “Do what?” asked Tess.

  “Fight.�
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  Tess had spent the best part of a decade studying the most deadly fighting arts she could find in the Far East. It was the only way she’d be able to do what needed doing back home. But she never told anyone her plan. In fact, she never told anyone anything. Information was power. The less information anyone had about her, the less power they had with which to hurt or control her.

  “I studied karate for a while. Got quite good at it.”

  Elena smirked. The look said ‘yeah, right’ so she didn’t have to.

  With as innocent an expression as she could muster, Tess said, “What?”

  “Quite good at it. Seriously? You’re forgetting I’ve raised a daughter around your age. Don’t you think I’ve learned how to tell when someone is trying to pull the wool over my eyes?”

  “It’s true.”

  Elena nodded. She looked away to where a water standpipe had been opened up to gush forth a fine spray. Screaming with joy, children ran through the mist.

  “It’s a nice day, isn’t it?” Elena said.

  “Lovely.”

  Elena took another sip from her bottle of water. “Warm too.”

  “Yes.”

  “So why don’t you take off your jacket?”

  Tess stopped and slowly turned to Elena.

  Elena took hold of Tess’s right forearm, her fingers pressing on the eight-inch-long strip of concave steel which had been shaped to hug Tess’s ulna perfectly.

  Tess ripped her arm away, but knew it was already too late. Elena had discovered her body armor. An eighth of an inch thick and drilled with holes to reduce its weight and thus reduce its impact on her techniques, a strip hugged each forearm, secured inside an elasticated tube. Tess needed an edge when she faced crazed attackers armed with baseball bats and knives. Armor gave her that edge.

  “I felt it when you hugged me,” Elena said.

  “And?”

  “And someone who is only quite good at karate doesn’t wear custom-made body armor.”

  Tess stared deeply into Elena’s tired, bloodshot eyes. It had been so long since she had shared anything with anyone, she’d almost forgotten how. Or why someone would ever want to.