American Crow

by Jack Lacey

  Something else caught my eye that made my blood run cold. On a long table at the back of the room was a rack filled with a row of glass vials identical to those I’d seen the doctor use back at the ranch...

  I walked over and studied them bewildered, then clocked the various paint pigments scattered everywhere; some in their raw form, others broken down and pummelled into powder using the large black mortar sat in the centre of the table. I turned and stared at the paintings again, then back at the table, before realizing the extent of Tolley’s madness.

  ‘You sick fucking bitch…’

  Seething, I worked my way through to another set of doors and walked tentatively into the next room. Inside smelt heavily of frankincense. There were just a couple of easels here, a few metres apart and a wooden stool where Tolley had obviously been working recently, as she enjoyed the view that was now becoming clearer as the sun rose up between the cleft of two distant mountains.

  I stared at the bewitching scene for a moment strangely awed, then at the sizeable painting to my right. It looked half-finished, yet more detailed than the other works next door. I stepped closer. It was entitled ‘Aphrodite’, and depicted a group of shadowy figures gathered around a writhing female in the semi-darkness…

  I shuddered at its eerie quality then eyed the one next to it revealing a close up of someone’s features, their tortured expression crafted into a terrified scream using a series of heavy black smudges.

  ‘Jesus…’

  What in the hell was going on in Tolley’s mind to create such disturbing images, I thought? And more importantly to infuse the damned paint with someone’s spinal fluid...The woman was truly debased. Insane...

  The sound of footsteps dragged me back to the job in hand. I ducked beneath the window as the guard strolled past outside. He was continuing along the veranda, heading for the other side of the building where I supposed, he would be expecting to see his buddy coming up from the other direction.

  Quickly, I weaved my way back through the various rooms and out through the back door onto the porch, where I walked purposefully towards the corner of the building, judging it perfectly, so that as he rounded the corner, my fist arrived hard in the other guy’s face, hurtling him back into a hammock strung between the veranda rail and the hunting lodge wall.

  I looked down at the sprawled figure and realized it was Pig-eyes, then broke into a satisfied smile. He stared at me in horror as I closed in, belatedly tried to raise his hands to protect his face as I raised my fist in the air.

  ‘Please, I...’

  I jabbed and jabbed again until he lay there stunned, then disarmed him effortlessly.

  ‘Like that do you…boy?’ I said shoving the gun into his mouth like I’d done with Lutz.

  He shook his head in a daze.

  ‘Where’s the girl?’

  ‘Fuck you,’ he blurted, gagging on the barrel.

  ‘You’re going to have to do better than that, you ugly piece of shit…Where is she?’ I pushed.

  ‘Only Corrigan knows where she is. That’s the way it always is,’ he mouthed as best he could.

  I lowered the gun and pulled the hunting knife out from his belt, then pressed it against his throat.

  ‘Last chance...’

  I saw the resulting look of fear on his pudgy face and pressed the cold blade harder against his neck, drawing blood.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he gasped, his breathing becoming faster.

  ‘Final time. Where?’

  ‘Fuck you, Limey...’

  I pulled the knife away with a smile, making his shoulders drop, then cut the cotton scarf away from his neck and shoved it into his mouth.

  ‘I’m not going to ask you again, boy...’

  He mouthed something in defiance through the gag then sat there staring at me like I was a piece shit on his shoe. I shook my head in disappointment then guided the blade to his ear, pulled out the gag, and asked him again.

  ‘Where is she?’

  He started laughing and I nodded blankly in response. The guy was getting under my damned skin. He wasn’t going to tell me a thing. I shoved the gag back in his mouth and pinned him down hard with all my weight.

  ‘You’re not going to tell me, are you?’

  He shook his head wildly, his eyes mocking me. I laughed back as if getting the joke, then increased my pressure on the blade, until I started to slice through his ear like I was cutting through a Sunday joint. He screamed like a spring lamb then eventually went limp. I released my grip then dragged his unconscious body along the porch and into the living room, leaving a bright scarlet trail smeared across the porch.

  I dumped the body behind the sofa then checked all the ground floor rooms carefully. Eventually I reached the main lobby area where a variety of boar and bear heads were hung from the oak-panel walls. I eyed the staircase and decided to take it. Tolley would still be in bed hopefully. Maybe she could give me some answers? Maybe Corrigan had just been trying to protect her, and she did know of Olivia’s whereabouts?

  I climbed the stairs one step at a time, scanning left to right with the gun for trouble. Hopefully the tycoon had left just the two guys to protect Tolley and the hard work was done...

  At the top, I found seven or eight doors, two of which were open. I walked on the balls of my toes to the nearest and peered through the first opening. Just an unused guest room...

  The second door was shut, but quickly revealed the same. Gradually I worked my way along the landing finding empty bathrooms and bedrooms until I came to a sixth door. I pushed it gently open and stared into the gloom, then made out Tolley’s lithe frame laying on the large ironwork bed opposite. I entered quietly and sat down on the mattress, then prodded her arm with the cold tip of the automatic. No reaction...I clocked the sleeping tablets on the side table. No wonder she was still asleep, she must have taken some medication before the call...

  She murmured and moved her arm slightly as if a fly was bothering her, then became still again. I prodded her harder making her moan and roll over, then tiring of her unconsciousness, slapped her hard around the face.

  ‘Lyle!’ she yelled wide-eyed.

  ‘No…’ I said calmly, ‘it’s Blake...’

  ‘Who…you were at the exhibition, weren’t you?’ she stammered, clutching her reddened cheek.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Get your clothes on.’

  She looked at me dumbfounded.

  ‘I’ve taken care of the three guards. There’s no use screaming....’

  ‘I thought it was just Irwin and…’

  ‘Good. I thought so. Well, you’re on your own now…’

  She looked at me quizzically.

  ‘Lyle will be back soon, so you better get the hell out of my room...’

  ‘Err…no he won’t.’

  She gasped then pursed her lips, the question she didn’t want to ask lodged between them.

  ‘He’s otherwise indisposed, put it like that…Disposed being the operative word,’ I said coldly, enjoying the look of distress slowly moulding her soft features.

  ‘He’s…dead?’ she said, stunned.

  ‘I dropped him off at the lake earlier, that tar-filled slurry basin called Gallow’s Creek on the other side of Black Mountain which he loved. I think he fancied an early morning dip, you know...’

  She cried out in anguish then held her head in her hands and started to sob loudly.

  ‘Where’s the girl?’ I pushed.

  ‘Go to hell...’

  ‘Tell me where the girl is...’

  ‘You’re going to kill me anyway, so I reckon it’s best if the girl rots, don’t you?’ she said, her sophisticated face now forming some monstrous mask.

  ‘Tell me where she is, and I’ll let you live. Don’t, and you’ll die...Simple really,’ I said controlling my rage for a second.

  ‘How can I trust you?’ she said, eyeing me with disgust.

  ‘I killed Corrigan because he killed Nancy. My grie
vance isn’t with you,’ I lied. ‘As it wasn’t with his wife when I broke in and spoke to her.’

  ‘So it was you who started the fire?’

  ‘At the request of his wife. She knew about you two by the way, and has done for a while...’

  The revelation silenced her for a moment.

  ‘So if I tell you how to find the girl, you’ll let me go free? If she’s still alive that is...’

  ‘If?’ I said tensing.

  ‘Look, I don’t know where Lyle buried her, okay…’ she said calmly as if talking about a dead cat.

  ‘You fucking buried her?’

  ‘It was his idea. It was for the group...’

  I eased my finger away from the trigger, realizing Corrigan was involved in something bigger, something darker...

  ‘You’ve no idea where the fuck you’ve buried a teenage girl?’

  I yanked away the covers revealing her warm, pale body and forced the gun between her clamped thighs.

  ‘How-do-I-find-the girl?’ I said snarling.

  ‘We…we spoke to her…yes, spoke to her, via a microphone next to the monitor downstairs. Maybe she could tell you where she is, if she’s still conscious...He was going to pull the oxygen this morning because the others couldn’t make it this weekend. He said we’d got enough out of her.’

  ‘Enough of what?’ I said venomously.

  ‘Inspiration…’ she croaked, eyeing the gun nervously between her legs.

  ‘Show me where she is! Get up!’ I yelled, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her out of bed.

  She screamed as she hit the ground, then scrambled on all fours towards the door like a dog, until she pulled herself up and stood shaking in the doorway.

  ‘Go…’

  I forced her downstairs, then re-entered the same work room that looked out across the mountains and shoved the gun in her back.

  ‘Show me...’

  Tolley pointed lamely at the furthest easel. There was a monitor sat on top of a waist-high table, with a microphone protruding from its side on a long flexible arm. I just hadn’t noticed it before in the pre-dawn gloom.

  ‘Switch it on, quick…’ I yelled, my heart pounding.

  Her trembling frame slipped past me, then fiddled around with various switches nervously, until the black and white monitor flickered slowly into life.

  The resulting picture was a fluttering blur...

  ‘Fix it, fix it!’ I shouted, shoving the gun into her ribs.

  She fumbled with the tuning dials until the picture steadied. Now I could make out the rough outline of a slender body lying on a mattress, a pair of feet positioned closest to the screen.

  ‘Olivia...’ I said anxiously into the microphone.

  No response. I turned to the artist.

  ‘It’s not working...’

  Tolley reached over my shoulder and pressed another button to activate it. Now I could hear the crackle of a speaker.

  ‘Olivia…’ I said again.

  Nothing.

  ‘Olivia...’

  No movement.

  ‘Can I hear her speak?’

  ‘Yes, it’s two-way,’ Tolley said shivering.

  ‘Olivia!’ I shouted, beginning to think I was too late.

  Suddenly a foot twitched. Then some fingers moved on her right hand.

  ‘Daddy…’ an anguished voice moaned softly.

  It was her.

  ‘My name’s Blake. Your father, Henry sent me. I’m here to take you back to London, take you back home...’

  ‘Where…?’

  She was semi-conscious. Weak.

  ‘Do you know where they buried you, Olivia?’ I said several times loudly.

  ‘No…I…’

  She was alive, though for how much longer I couldn’t be sure if Corrigan had pulled the plug on her breathing tube.

  ‘Now I want you to listen to me, Olivia. It’s important. I need you tell me how I can find you. I want you to move a foot left for yes, and no for a right, okay?’

  Her foot moved slightly to the left.

  ‘Good girl.’

  ‘Did they take you out of the front door where the lake is?’

  Her foot remained still.

  ‘Olivia, did they take you out of the back door?’

  A toe twitched to the left. I asked her again. It moved in the same direction.

  ‘Good girl...’

  I glanced at Tolley who now had her arms wrapped around herself, looking like a ghost of her former self.

  ‘You better hope that we get her out alive, you bitch,’ I said, eyeing her with disgust.

  ‘Now Olivia, I need you to tell me how far you walked roughly to the burial site. I want you to think hard. Was it twenty paces?’

  Her toe twitched right, signalling a no.

  ‘Was it forty paces?’

  Nothing.

  ‘Was it forty paces?’

  Nothing.

  ‘Was it forty…’

  Her foot twitched to the right.

  ‘Was it sixty?’

  Her foot twitched to the right again. I stared at the monitor anxiously, fearing she was slipping into unconsciousness through the lack of oxygen.

  ‘Olivia, stay with me…was it sixty paces?’

  No movement again.

  ‘Shit!’ I yelled, slamming the flat of my hand down onto the monitor table, making it shake.

  ‘Was it sixty?’ I boomed loudly into the microphone making it distort.

  Her foot moved to the right.

  ‘Was it a hundred paces, do you think?’

  Her toe twitched right.

  ‘A hundred and fifty?’

  Nothing. I ran a hand over my face and groaned in desperation.

  ‘A hundred and fifty?’

  It twitched slightly to the right.

  ‘Two hundred?’

  Her toe twitched to the left. A yes...

  ‘Good girl, Olivia, stay with me…Did you walk straight ahead from the back door.’

  Nothing.

  ‘Did you take a right?’

  Her toe moved weakly to the left.

  ‘Was that a hard right you took?’

  It twitched slightly again to the left.

  ‘Is there a tool shed? A shovel?’ I said desperately to Tolley.

  ‘Far end of the building, at the back. Follow the porch along to its end...’

  ‘Show me!’

  I pushed her angrily out through the doors. She staggered child-like along the porch, a far cry from the sophisticated artist I’d seen back at the gallery when she was riding high on a wave of adulation. Halfway down, she stopped suddenly, fanned the tool-cupboard open, then stepped aside allowing me to grab a shovel hanging from the wall.

  ‘Stay there,’ I ordered, running back to check the monitor.

  I grabbed the microphone.

  ‘Now I’m going to come out and find you, honey. I want you to count for a whole minute then start hitting the lid of the box every five seconds, with everything you’ve got left, okay?’

  No response.

  ‘Shit…’

  I sprinted back out and grabbed Tolley by the arm, then threw her down the steps onto the grass. Just as I was about to haul her up, I felt a presence suddenly come up behind me. I span around expecting trouble and got it. It was Redhead. And he had an axe raised above his head...

  ‘Fuck!’

  I leapt out of the way as the weapon thudded into the earth, then righted myself as the henchman tried to extract it from the heavy ground. Just as he’d managed to free it and raise it again, I grabbed the shovel and brought it hard up under his chin, sending him staggering backwards, temporarily dazed.

  I charged at him and swung again, but he recovered quickly and ducked, then came at me wildly with his fists. I darted left and right avoiding the fierce blows, then seizing my moment, thrust the shovel into his guts knocking the wind out of him, before smashing the shovel against the side of his head with everything I had left.

  He hit the groun
d hard with the impact. Tolley screamed and ran over to him.

  ‘I think you’ve killed him.’

  ‘Really,’ I said hands on knees, trying to catching my breath.

  She nodded, her face ashen.

  ‘Go!’ I wheezed, pointing behind her, ‘in that direction. And count two hundred paces!’

  Tolley staggered up and broke into a disorientated run. A second later I followed her into the murky forest to see her naked figure weaving its way through the trees haphazardly. Eventually she stopped and turned.

  ‘Two hundred...’

  I joined her in the small clearing then scanned the immediate area for signs of disturbance. I couldn’t see a damned thing in the half-light, nothing even resembling an air pipe...

  ‘Fuck it!’

  Knowing there wasn’t much time left if any, I knelt down and placed my ear against the cold, damp earth. Silence. Just the sounds of the dawn chorus breaking cheerfully above us. I stood back up and shuffled another few metres back then listened again.

  Nothing.

  ‘Come on Olivia...’ I muttered anxiously, hoping she would have the strength to do this final task and free herself.

  I hauled myself up and repeated the process again, this time a little further...Now I could hear a faint tapping.

  ‘Yes!’ Over there! Over there!’ I yelled at Tolley.

  I crawled another five metres and pressed my ear hard against the earth. Tap, tap, tap...I fanned my hands out across the earth and skimmed over a raised section covered in leaves. Hurriedly I cleared the ground cover away, then felt a slight depression where an a breathing tube may once have been inserted.

  ‘Dig here, you fucking bitch. Dig!’

  She looked at me bewildered then slammed the pointed shovel lamely into the earth as I pointed the gun at her head.

  ‘I can’t!’

  I snatched it from her, then shoved the gun in my belt and began to dig furiously, working my way through the leafy loam into darker, root-filled soil. Inches transformed painfully into feet, turned slowly into a deep oblong hole. Eventually I heard the sound of metal on metal as the shovel struck the box.

  ‘Get the rest of the soil off!’ I ordered desperately.

  Crying, she lowered herself down into the excavation and helped scoop the remaining handfuls of soil out, until I could clearly discern a four foot by six foot metal container beneath our feet.