Cruel Justice

by William Bernhardt

  72

  “COME ON IN,” CHRISTINA said.

  Mitch lifted a large cardboard box filled with paper and entered the room.

  “I could use the company of another adult,” Christina added. “Do you by any chance know what seven, eight is?”

  “I … beg your pardon?”

  “You know. Five, six, pick up sticks. But I can’t remember what seven, eight is.”

  “Well,” Mitch hedged, “it’s been a while for me. …”

  “Yeah. Me, too. Say, don’t you work at the country club?”

  “That’s right,” he said. “How did you know?”

  “Oh, I remember seeing your name in Ben’s notes. What brings you here?”

  “Ben asked me to sort through a few million pieces of paper and look for connections between board members and foreign countries, especially Peru. But when I reported back, he said he was too busy and told me to bring the stuff to you.”

  “That’s my Ben all right.” She nodded toward the north wall. “Put the box down there. I’ll get to it as soon as the baby sleeps. If he sleeps.”

  “Being difficult, is he? Here, why don’t you let me try?”

  “Sure.”

  Christina passed the baby to Mitch. A strange tingling sensation trickled up and down her spine. Now, that’s odd, she thought. She watched Mitch gently rock the baby in his arms. He was good with Joey. So why did she feel so uneasy?

  She shrugged it off. Probably some weird offshoot of unrequited maternal instincts. She was becoming attached to the baby, so she didn’t want anyone else to hold him. “You said you brought something?”

  “Oh, right.” Still cradling the baby in one arm, he reached into his back pocket. “A new pacifier.” The pacifier was shaped like a bushy black mustache, so that when he popped it into the baby’s mouth …

  “Was this Ben’s idea, too?” Christina asked.

  “Uh, yeah. How’d you know?”

  “It’s so Ben. Practical jokes at the expense of an infant.”

  He laughed. “Oh. I have something for Abie, too. Uh, where is he, anyway?”

  Christina felt the tingling sensation again. He knew Abie was here? That seemed odd.

  “It’s a pennant,” Mitch said as he pulled it out of the box. “You know, to hang on his wall. I understand he’s a major Drillers fan.”

  The hairs on the back of Christina’s neck stood on end. He shouldn’t know that.

  “I heard he lost his Drillers cap recently, so I thought, what the heck. He might like this.”

  “I’m sure he would,” Christina said, forcing herself to smile. He shouldn’t know that, either.

  But she knew who would.

  “I’m surprised Ben told you Abie was here. We … think someone may be looking for him.”

  “You mean that sick pervert? The child molester? God, I hate him.”

  “You know him?”

  “No, I just mean—I hate the idea. Of taking advantage of children like that. Torturing them. Forcing them to do … things they don’t want to do.”

  Christina stole a quick glance at the bedroom door. Abie was not visible in the open passageway. “I understood this man was very nice to his captives.”

  “Oh sure. Buy them an ice-cream cone. Take them to Celebration Station. Then rip off their clothes and make them wish they’d never been born.”

  That was it. No one else could have known about Celebration Station. That detail had been deliberately left out of the papers.

  He was the one.

  “Here,” Christina said, “why don’t you let me take Joey off your hands?”

  Mitch pulled the baby away. “Oh, he’s no trouble.”

  “No, I insist.”

  “Really, he’s fine.”

  “No.” She laid her hands firmly on the baby. “Look, he’s practically asleep. Please.” Christina took the pacifier out of Joey’s mouth and took him back into her arms. “Merci.”

  “So … where is Abie, anyway?”

  “You know,” she said, trying to keep her voice even, “the funny thing is, Abie isn’t even here right now.” Please God, let him stay in the bedroom!

  “He isn’t? But I understood—”

  “He was, but—his mother came and got him.”

  “His mother?” Mitch’s head tilted to one side. “I saw his mother in the courtroom.”

  “Really?” She laughed nervously. “Well, you know how these rich women are. She probably left him with a Swedish au pair.”

  “That’s hard to believe,” Mitch said slowly.

  “What do you mean? That I’m lying?”

  “No, of course not. I just can’t believe that even that rich bitch would leave Abie with a stranger when some maniac is looking for him.” His lips curled. “Next she’ll probably lock him in the closet.”

  “I—I beg your pardon?”

  “She’ll lock him in the closet, because he’s been bad. Naughty. And he’ll scream and cry and beg to be let out. But she won’t let him out.”

  “I don’t under—”

  “He’ll scream, ‘Mommy! Please let me out. Please.’ ” Mitch’s face was transformed from that of a man to that of a scared little boy. “I’m sorry I was bad! I’ll do anything to make up for it!’ And then his daddy will say, ‘Perhaps, son. But first you must be punished.’ ”

  Christina tried to maintain a poker face. “Well, I’d better put the baby down for his nap. If you’ll excuse me—”

  “What?” Mitch’s face altered again, yanked back to the present. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking about. I’ll go.”

  Christina smiled, relieved. “I’ll be sure to tell Ben you came by. …”

  And then a small figure appeared in the bedroom doorway.

  “Can you help me?” Abie asked, pouting. “I can’t figure out where this puzzle piece goes.”

  Mitch’s face contracted slowly. “But …”

  Abie scanned the room, first Christina, then Mitch. He stared at Mitch so hard, Christina could almost hear his thoughts. Add a fuzzy red wig. A fake pair of glasses. And—

  And then Abie screamed.

  In a split second Christina raced between Mitch and Abie. She hit the coffee table, knocking it over. The phone hit the floor; the receiver spilled out of the cradle.

  Mitch lunged for her, but stumbled over the table. Christina pushed Abie back into the bedroom. She slammed the door behind them—

  Too late. Mitch’s foot was wedged in the door.

  “You lied to me,” Mitch said. His voice was dark and heavy. “You bitch. You’re just like all the other lying bitches in the world.” He threw his shoulder against the door.

  Christina held back the door with all her might. But she knew she couldn’t hold him off for long. He was far stronger and heavier than she was.

  “Don’t let him in,” Abie said, sobbing. “Don’t let him hurt me.”

  Christina lifted her shoe and brought the heel down hard on Mitch’s foot. Mitch screamed, then jerked back his foot. Christina slammed the door the rest of the way shut, then locked it.

  An instant later Mitch threw his weight against the other side of the door. The thin worn plywood shuddered and bowed, but held for the moment.

  “You think that’s going to keep me out? You filthy whore! You’re just like all the rest.”

  She heard him remove something from his coat. An instant later the tip of a steely knife protruded through the door.

  “You’re going to be punished,” Mitch bellowed. “All of you. That bad boy Abie. That boy baby. And you, you stupid bitch, prancing around in your short skirt, showing yourself to him whenever you can.”

  She heard him panting as he thrust his knife through the door once again. “You’re all going to be punished.”

  73

  “HURRY!” BEN SHOUTED. HE was leaning out of the passenger seat, hovering over Mike as he drove. “Can’t this thing go any faster?”

  “I’m doing the best I can,” Mike muttered
, clutching the wheel. “Aren’t you the one who normally complains that I drive too fast?” He barreled the Trans Am up the entrance ramp and hit I-244 doing eighty. Once he made it into the fast lane, he pulled his flasher out of the seat divider and snapped it onto the roof of his car. A second later the siren was squealing and cars began to clear out of the way.

  “I should’ve seen this coming,” Ben muttered. “The clues were right in front of me. Mitch told me he specially requested the assignment to oversee the caddyshack. Natch. Like you told me—perverts always try to finagle jobs that will put them into contact with kids. What’s more, he told me he hated Rutherford’s guts. That must be at least part of the reason why he’s singled out Abie.”

  “Gimme the handset,” Mike commanded. Ben did as he was told.

  A few moments later a voice squawked on the other end. “Headquarters.”

  “Marty? Mike. I want two squad cars immediately. More if you can get them.” He gave her Ben’s address. “Any idea how long?”

  “I’m not sure, Mike. All the rovers in the area are checking out a reported shooting at the Route 66 Café.”

  “Damn it, this is an emergency!”

  He heard the klickety-klack of buttons on the other end. “I’ll put out the word.”

  “But how long?” There was a short pause. “Damn!” Mike threw the handset across the car, narrowly missing Ben’s head. “We’ll get there before they do.”

  Ben removed Mike’s car phone from the glove box. He had no idea how to work it. “Get me an outside line.”

  Mike punched in the access codes, then Ben dialed a local number. His number.

  “Busy signal.” He looked at Mike grimly. “I don’t think Christina would be talking. The phone must be off the hook.”

  Mike’s hands tightened on the wheel. Ben felt the car surge even faster.

  They sped past Peoria, watching the other cars pull over onto the shoulder. It would still be several more minutes before they arrived. And there was no telling how long Mitch had been there already.

  Ben tried another number. After a second he heard: “Hello?”

  “This is Ben. Who’s this, Jami?”

  “Close. Joni. Hey, Booker told me you two talked. Thanks for—”

  “I don’t have time for this now,” Ben said. “Look, Christina’s in my apartment.”

  “I know. You sly fox, you.”

  “Do you know if she’s had any visitors?”

  “I was on the stairs playing cards about ten minutes ago when some hunky dude went up to your apartment.”

  “Tall? Dark hair? Gray eyes?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Ben winced. Mitch Dryer was there.

  “Hey, is something wrong? Do you want me to go over there?”

  “No. Definitely do not go over there. Christina is in great danger. I need to get a message to her.” If it’s not already too late.

  “Just a sec.” The line was muffled for a moment. “Booker says he’ll go.”

  “Booker is at your place now? With your parents?”

  “Well …” She coughed. “The rest of the family is at the movies right at the moment. … Anyway, he says he’ll go.”

  “I don’t think that’s safe.”

  “Look, she’ll be a lot safer with Booker there than she would be alone. What’s the message?”

  Ben clenched his teeth. He hated to do this, but she was right. Christina alone wouldn’t stand a chance. “Just tell her that he’s the one. Without tipping the guy off. We don’t want him to go ballistic.” If he hasn’t already. “And tell her to get the kids out of there. And herself.”

  “Got it.”

  “Remember, don’t tip the man off.”

  “Don’t worry. Booker is a master of subtlety.”

  “Look, I still don’t think—”

  It was too late. The line was dead.

  “So what’s the word?” Mike asked.

  Ben stared ahead at the highway. “Drive like hell,” he muttered, clutching the dash.

  74

  “YOU’RE JUST MAKING IT worse for yourselves,” Mitch shouted through the closed, locked bedroom door. “If I hurt myself getting in there, it’ll be a lot worse for you.”

  Christina pushed Abie into the far corner, away from the door.

  “Did you hear me?” His voice dripped with contempt. “I have a knife! I’m going to cut you open. I’ll cut you in the gut and slash you apart, bit by bit, so you’ll die slow.”

  He paused. Christina waited to hear what venomous threats came next.

  “Did you hear me? I’m going to punish you! And I’m going to do the kiddies first! I’ll make you watch. Do you hear me?”

  Abie was terrified. His eyes and nose were running, his limbs were shaking. He clutched at Christina’s waist, and began to make a low murmuring sound: “No, no, no, no, no …” Christina motioned for him to remain quiet.

  “Did you hear me? I’m going to rub your nose in their blood, you fucking whore!”

  Christina gripped Abie’s shoulder.

  “Fine. You asked for it. Here I come.”

  Christina held her breath. She heard Mitch cross the room, then, seconds later, she heard the front door buzzer. After a short pause, the buzzer sounded again, even more insistently than before.

  “All right,” Mitch whispered through the locked door, “I’m going to see who’s at the door. Remember, I still have the knife. If I hear so much as a peep out of you, he’ll be … a dead ringer!” Mitch laughed hysterically.

  Christina bent down and peered through the crack in the door. The gap between the door and the jamb was slightly larger than usual, probably because of the aged and warped wood. She couldn’t see the whole living room, but she could get a narrow view of the front door.

  Mitch walked to the door and opened it. Christina was surprised to see a large black teenager standing there.

  “Yes?” Mitch said.

  “I’s here for Christina,” the boy said. “Where is she?”

  Christina held her tongue. She wanted to cry out, but she knew Mitch’s knife was only inches from the boy’s throat.

  “Christina? Oh, she isn’t in right now. She went … shopping.”

  The strapping teenager peered down with an icy glare. “My Joni told me she’d be here.”

  “Your … Joni? Oh—she must be the lass I passed on the stairs. I admire your taste. She’s quite a looker.”

  “She’s taken,” he grunted.

  “Oh, well, yes. Of course she is.” There was a protracted pause as the two stared down one another. “Well, when Christina returns, I’ll tell her you came by—”

  “Isn’t that her purse?”

  Through the door, Christina saw the boy push Mitch back and enter the room, slamming the door behind him.

  “Uh, no. Actually, that’s … my purse.”

  “Yours?” Booker walked to the center of the room. He saw the overturned table, the spilled diaper bag, the phone off the hook. “What—”

  Christina saw Mitch lift his knife high into the air. She screamed. Booker whirled around, just an instant too late. Mitch wrapped his arm around Booker’s neck and pulled his head back. The knife plunged into his chest, just beneath the left shoulder. Blood began to ooze out of the wound. A hollow popping noise came out of Booker’s mouth.

  Mitch removed the knife. Almost instantaneously, Booker’s body shuddered as if he were going into shock. He dropped to the floor, eyes closed, blood gurgling out of the wound and drenching the hardwood floor.

  Mitch stepped on top of Booker’s body. He raised the knife back into the air

  “No!” Christina shouted. “Help! Someone help!”

  Mitch looked toward the closed bedroom door. “You stupid cunt. You’re peeking.” He marched to the locked door. Christina fled to the other side of the room.

  “You’ve put this off long enough,” Mitch shouted. “It’s time for you to be punished.” There was a brief pause, then suddenly, the door bo
wed forward. The splitting of wood sounded like the crackling of thunder. The door gave, but it did not quite break.

  Not yet.

  Christina knew the door wouldn’t last much longer. She pushed Abie toward the closet.

  “We’re going to have to split up,” she said.

  “No!” Abie started to wail. “Don’t leave me alone. He’ll kill me! He’ll—”

  “Abie, snap out of it!” She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “We don’t have time for this. I’ll keep that man away from you, but you have to take care of the baby.”

  Abie’s eyes were wide. “Me?”

  “Yes.” She stood on the lower shelf of the closet and knocked open the panel that led to the roof, her meditation retreat and stargazing sanctuary. “Can you climb up there?”

  “I—I think so.”

  They were interrupted by another clap of thunder. Mitch crashed against the door. The door was buckling down the middle.

  “I can make it,” Abie said. He stepped onto the lower shelf, knocking a pile of books onto the floor.

  Christina boosted him as best she could, but she was only five-foot-one herself. Stretching as far as possible, Abie reached into the hole in the roof and pulled himself through.

  “Now take Joey.” Christina passed the baby up through the passage, but as soon as he left her arms, he began to cry.

  She pulled the mustache pacifier out of her pocket. “Here. Shove this in his mouth. And be very quiet!”

  As soon as Abie had the pacifier, she closed the panel, blocking off the passage. She ran back into the bedroom and opened the window.

  Not a second too soon. Mitch hit the door running, and this time the aged wood split apart. He pounded the splintered wood a few times with his fist, clearing a passageway.

  Christina desperately looked around the room, searching for some kind of weapon. A rattle? A baby-blue blanket? Ben’s CDs? It was hopeless.

  And much too late.

  “Here I am,” Mitch said as he stepped through the door, knife at the ready. “As promised.”

  75

  BUT WHERE THE HELL is the boy? Mitch thought as he entered the bedroom. That was the problem with little boys. They were always trying to get away, trying to escape their punishment. But that wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

  “Where is he?” Mitch snarled.