Play With Fire

by Solomon Carter

  “Of course!”

  “None!” said Blane. “I used him for surveillance, mostly. Yes, I had Lauren watched a few times, when I started to work her out. Before that, I had him watch my wife once or twice back when I suspected she was having an affair. Turned out I was wrong.”

  “A hitman for a surveillance job? Sounds unlikely.”

  “He was good at it.”

  Eva fixed Blane in her gaze. She noticed Lauren at the dining table, the woman had stiffened and shifted on her feet.

  “2016, Mr Blane. There was a Vauxhall Corsa hired from Reva Rentals around the time of your wife’s fatal car accident. An accident which just happened to take place at a section of the A12 where the cameras had been removed due to roadworks. Your emails to Boothroyd prove you knew a Corsa had been hired on your firm’s account…”

  Blane’s face turned pale.

  “The Vauxhall Corsa rented from Reva Cars also happened to be a sporty model, a CDTi. Unusual for any business to hire a sporty model for its staff to run errands in. Companies almost always go for the value option. The cheap compact, like an Aygo or a Smart Car. So why would your firm hire a car like that, a speedy sports model – at around the time of your wife’s death? If we look at your emails, if we follow the pattern…”

  “There is no pattern! It’s supposition, make-believe!”

  “If we follow the pattern,” said Eva, raising her voice, “then it seems highly likely that you hired that car on behalf of Adam Boothroyd so he could eliminate your wife. She died where there were no cameras. Witnesses saw a Vauxhall Corsa driving erratically just before your wife’s crash. It all fits, Mr Blane. We’ve already seen how you chop and change your women. And for some reason, you think the best course of action is to have them killed rather tell them to pack their bags.”

  “How dare you?!” said Blane, his expression furious.

  Eva pressed on. “And I can see one obvious reason for killing your wife – to prevent a costly divorce settlement. Killing her must have been a cheaper alternative. But as for Lauren… you weren’t even married. It doesn’t make sense…”

  “Lauren ruined my life! She hoodwinked me! I loved her and she damn near destroyed me, mentally and physically. She deserved what was coming to her!”

  “But your wife’s death was arranged as a financial concern…”

  “Listen to me, woman, and listen good. Neither Boothroyd nor anyone else was ever hired to kill my wife! My wife had an accident. A terrible, tragic accident. End of story.”

  “Yes, Mr Blane? Then why did eyewitnesses see a blue Vauxhall Corsa speeding and driving erratically just before she died? A blue Corsa, a new model... just like the one hired by your company from Reva Rentals at the time of her death?”

  “What? What are you saying?” Blane’s voice trailed away.

  The man was dumbstruck. His eyes glazed and he frowned as he looked at Eva, then Lauren. Something about his expression had Eva thrown. He looked as if he had seen a ghost. There was a noise behind Eva. The sound of something scraping. Eva turned her head to see Lauren lifting her heavy bag up off the dining table. She looked at Eva as she pulled the baseball cap from her head and tossed the cap down onto the dining table. Lauren shook her hair free, then smiled at Blane while he stared at her, and slowly shook his head.

  “You… you made me fall in love with you. You rented a car that week. You were the only one in the office who had a car from Reva. Your PI reminded me,” said Blane, nodding at Eva.

  “Did she now?” said Lauren. “Well, it had to be done, Jamie. It was just a logical progression…”

  Eva swallowed and looked at Lauren. It had had to be one of them, and now she knew who. But even now, she still couldn’t quite believe it. The manipulation, the lies, the psych report, the Paris Metro… the pitchfork back in rural science, the bottle through Mrs Gernahue’s window. It was the perfect match. And then it hit her – Jamie Blane had become a murderer by Lauren’s design… She thought of Boothroyd lying bloodied on Two Tree Island. The blood on her battered hands. Lauren had almost done the same to her. The violence… control… hatred… The murder! Lauren incited it all. Eva finally understood. For Lauren Jaeger all of it was nothing but a game.

  Twenty-six

  The Egomobile was in a bad way. The car began to jerk forward and strain whenever Dan pushed the accelerator down past a certain point; but when he kept his foot too light, he heard a faint squeal, as if the car was screaming in pain.

  “I haven’t got a clue what’s up. The cam belt maybe? And if that goes, the car will be a write-off.”

  “The smoke out the back, that’s an exhaust problem, emissions. Or it could be the gasket,” said Joanne.

  “You’re a mechanic now?”

  “My dad mucks around with cars, but he’s not good at it either. Just enough to be dangerous.”

  “I know the feeling,” said Dan, growling in frustration as the engine fault light finally flicked on. It was a joke. He slammed his hands on the steering wheel. As if in response, the car started to lose acceleration. Dan pressed the pedal and the car jerked forward again and rumbled on.

  “It’s going to break down,” said Mark.

  “You think?!” said Dan.

  They had passed over a set of roundabouts and were now in a semi-residential area, a mix of bland flat green fields, new-build estates and pre-fab houses. The area reminded Dan of some of the estates on the other side of town. Only these weren’t council properties. These were intended for people who had money, cars on expensive finance, and pricey labels on their clothes.

  Joanne’s eyes landed on a shape rising up beyond the horizon. The building cut along the skyline on the left, brown and cream, a crisp and modern colour scheme, with a set of wide gallery windows looking down from the very top.

  “That’s it,” said Joanne. “That’s got to be Hawksale.”

  “We’re still a way off,” said Dan.

  “Not more than two minutes, surely?” said Joanne.

  “I don’t know if we’ll make it…”

  The car kept going. They reached the end of the street and turned right towards another small estate of houses positioned around the foot of the tower block like acolytes bowing before their king. He had to slow to take the turn, but now the car wouldn’t speed up no matter how hard he put his foot down. Ten miles an hour, eight, five, and then the car shuddered and coughed as if it was about to die.

  “Damn it!” said Dan. He turned the car in at the kerb, pulled the handbrake up and removed the key. The car engine hissed in relief. “We’re going to have do the rest on foot.”

  They clambered out of the car and looked around at the anonymous houses. The tall brown and cream building loomed over the end of the street, looking down over the car park and an empty bus stop. Dan broke into a fast jog, and left Joanne and Mark to follow. His jog soon became a flat-out run. Mark and Joanne followed as fast as they could… but the tower at the end of the street seemed to get no nearer.

  Eva edged back a few steps towards the lounge wall the mouth of the hallway not far behind her. Not as a defensive move, but so she could see them all at once. On her right, Blane in the kitchen beside his terrified girlfriend, and on her left, Lauren, the dining table and the enormous window with the dramatic sky and the burning light blackening her to a silhouette. Eva raised a hand to shield her eyes from the light.

  “You were the one who had the car…” said Jamie. “I said you could rent one. You were doing well. You were succeeding… turning meetings into business, so I trusted you. I wanted you to have the car as a reward. An encouragement… I remember now. I never knew what type of car it was. I never cared. So long as you were happy.”

  Lauren ran a hand through her hair, flattening it down.

  “I couldn’t be happy with that woman in my way, could I? You said the same. We’d gotten about as close as we could with her still around. Stealing kisses in the office. Ten minutes here, five minutes there. But you were always so parano
id about being seen, about giving the woman a solid reason to take you to the cleaners. You were strangling our affair before it had even begun. You were so desperate for me, so charming and yet, still so pathetic. You wouldn’t take a risk for fear of your wife. You told me she was in the way. You said it so many times. You wanted my love, and I wanted the life I deserved. But I knew you were too weak, so I did what I had to do to make it happen. And look. It happened. I was your mistress, but I became your lover, your princess, your queen…”

  Blane shook his head, and put both hands to his head, his temples.

  “When she died in that crash… it destroyed me. It ripped me up. I was in pieces.”

  “And who put you back together, eh? I nursed you. I rebuilt you, Jamie. Do you think you’d have been able to any of what you’ve done since, without me? I gave you the balls you never had!”

  “You killed my wife! You rented a car on my firm’s expenses, and you what…? Shoved her off the road? You killed her!”

  “It wasn’t like that. She was a bad driver anyway. Nervous, sticking in the slow lane. I followed her, got close behind. I think it made her a little paranoid. I didn’t know how to play it, I only knew what result I wanted. She switched lanes to avoid me and ended up going too fast for her own good. By the time we got to the roadworks section, she was over the speed limit. There were no works going on, just the cones everywhere at the side of the road. I went up behind her, got closer. Even then, I don’t think she ever recognised me. Otherwise she might not have panicked like she did. She was the nervous kind, wasn’t she? I flashed her to see how she would react, and her car jerked all over the place. So I did it again and again. There was nowhere for her to go, but she panicked. She took the slow lane again. By then I knew what to do. I swerved in behind her, stuck to her like glue, and pushed up so close our bumpers almost kissed…”

  “Don’t, Lauren. Don’t say it…” said Blane, clenching his fists at his side.

  “She freaked out. She swerved too close to the central reservation and then swerved back into the fast lane to compensate. Her steering left her car slipping sideways. I was behind her again. I pushed up behind her and right then – she lost control. That very second, as soon as I saw her lose it, I got out of harm’s way. I watched her car slam into the central reservation barrier, watched it flip over, and heard that awful crunch.”

  Blane groaned.

  Lauren looked at Eva. “Yes, there were witnesses. But I’d already covered the plates in dirt. There was no way anyone could have found me. And all I did was drive… and use my headlights. It was hardly even murder really, more like putting the woman out of her misery.”

  Blane roared. “You callous… sick… evil… bitch… you ruined my whole life…. You took my wife!”

  “But you wanted me, Jamie. And back then, I wanted you. She was only in the way.” Lauren shrugged. “Like I said, it was logical. But only I had the strength to do it. You’ve always been weak.”

  “I hate you!” roared Blane. “You should be dead, not her.”

  Blane stared at Eva and pointed a shaking hand at Lauren. “She was cruel every day I lived with her. Every comment was a barb. Every word designed to undermine me, make me question myself, my business… my manhood… everything.”

  “Your manhood was always fragile, darling.” Lauren glanced at Suzie with a smirk.

  “You didn’t just kill her… You killed me!” he said.

  “So melodramatic. As pathetic as you are, I needed you. All I wanted to do was make you better. To perfect you.”

  “Enough!” said Blane.

  Eva saw the wild emotion on Blane’s face. Lauren was tearing him apart with mere words. Eva wondered if she would have been the same. The answer was obvious. Ever since she had arrived back in her life, Lauren Jaeger had twisted and turned her mind, deceived her and manipulated her. All to get here, to this point. But something was still missing. What was it? Eva studied Lauren’s face, saw her bright gleaming eyes and her cold smile. A crooked sneer. Lauren was enjoying herself. She was in command. Everything was going according to some unseen plan.

  “Why? It worked didn’t it? You got me into your bed? And I got into your life, access all areas. Your business. Your bank account. Your cars. Your home…”

  “You took everything.”

  “You gave it to me.”

  “And now I’m taking it back. You’re history,” said Blane. “Get out. You’re finished. Dead!”

  “Another threat you can’t back up. I’ve handled everything you threw my way, and here I am, still standing.”

  “Can’t back it up?!” Blane laughed and shook his head. “Of course I can back it up. Because you made me just like you…”

  Blane turned away. He steered his wreck of a girlfriend out of his way and pulled open the drawer beneath the hob. He pulled a long silver knife free and lifted it into the light.

  “Do you remember this?” said Blane, glancing at Eva.

  “Don’t do this, Mr Blane,” said Eva.

  “Yes, you remember it. You were going to stick it through my heart… because she got into your head too.”

  “She wants you to do this,” said Eva. “You must see that. She wants you to fight.”

  “If he wants to show me what kind of man he is, let him,” said Lauren

  “No. Don’t,” said Eva. “Stay back and put the knife down.”

  Blane took a step around the kitchen island counter.

  “Don’t do it, Jamie,” said Suzie, her voice little more than a murmur.

  He paused and looked at his girlfriend. “The woman’s sick, Jamie. Evil. Anyone can see that. If you must do something, just call the police.”

  “They have Boothroyd,” said Blane. “It’s gone beyond that now.”

  “Jamie…” said Suzie. “I’m here for you. Don’t… please…”

  “Are you going to listen to that trollop?” said Lauren. “Is that really how weak you’ve become?”

  “Listen to Miss Appleby,” said Eva. “She’s the only one thinking clearly. Call the police, Mr Blane. If not, I’ll do it for you. Before—”

  Blane shook his head. “No! She deserves far worse than locking up.” He roared and charged across the room, blade in hand. Eva reached for him, tried to stop him, but he shoved her aside and the knife rushed by.

  “Jamie!” called Suzie, rushing after him, pulling at him, clawing at his shirt, trying to drag him back, but Blane palmed her away and she fell at his feet. Lauren watched him the whole way, serene, eyes gleaming, smiling.

  As he got close, Eva watched as Lauren slid a hand deep into her handbag. “No!” she shouted.

  Eva darted across the room, but she was too late. Suzie tried again, pulling at Blane’s hips, dragging herself up on him as he closed the gap, his blade out in front of him.

  “Lauren, no!” shouted Eva.

  Lauren looked at Eva. The look lasted a fraction of a moment, but it said everything. Here I am. This is who I am. Then her eyes turned to Jamie Blane. She swept her arm up from her bag and knocked the knife aside with the heavy implement in her hand. A claw hammer with a black rubber grip.

  “Lauren!”

  The hammer arced towards Blane’s head. Eva was too far back to help. But Appleby saw it and tried to pull him out of harm’s way. She screamed as the hammer clattered from the side of Blane’s skull, and he dropped to the carpet. Appleby staggered in the space he left behind, helpless, looking down at his bloodied head, sobbing.

  “You killed him!” she howled. “You’ve killed him, you witch!”

  Lauren smiled at her as she bent down and looked at what she’d done to her ex-lover. She looked at the blood on his head. Her hand swiped across the floor and with a hidden flourish of her hand Blane’s kitchen knife was gone. Eva grabbed Appleby’s shoulder to pull her out of harm’s way but the girl was beside herself and shrugged Eva’s hand away, almost falling again. Lauren Jaeger watched. She made her move as Suzie Appleby recovered her balance.


  “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll be going with him,” said Lauren.

  She leaned forwards and drove the blade deep through Suzie’s gut.

  Eva gasped as she saw the tip of the blade emerge from her back with a sudden bloom of blood. Suzie Appleby squirmed in agony and staggered back. Lauren let go of the knife. The young woman looked at Eva before she looked down at the blade in her body and cupped her hands around the handle.

  “Suzie! Leave it. I’ll get help. Here! Here!” Eva tried to lead the girl to the edge of the room, but she buckled to her knees, her eyes already flickering from shock and pain. She crumpled onto her side, moaning as her eyes closed and her body went limp. A slick of blood pooled around her. Eva looked down at Blane. There was blood leaking from the side of his head, right beside his temple. There was no telling how much damage had been done to his brain, but Eva saw his fingers tremor and she knew he was still alive. She looked at Lauren, and found the woman standing proudly over her victims. She seemed as regal as a queen, and the hammer was still loosely gripped in her hand.

  Dan’s eyes fixed on the front glass wall of the Hawksale building entrance lobby. He noticed a smartly dressed female resident approaching the exit. The woman was about to walk out of the door of as Dan, Joanne and Mark reached the car park. Dan pushed harder, breaking into a flat out sprint. The woman saw him coming and with an uncertain look on her face she held the door open for him. Dan took the door from her hand with a grateful nod. Gasping for breath he kept it open for Mark and Joanne before they burst into the lobby, their feet echoing on the oatmeal marble tiles. The big man at the desk looked up, his eyes narrowing when he saw their haste. Before Dan’s hands landed on the counter, the man was already steeling himself. He stood up to face what was coming his way. Dan gasped for breath, Mark and Joanne hung behind him.

  “Someone is going to be killed…,” he said. “In the penthouse… Jamie Blane’s apartment.”

  said, struggling to talk between snatched breaths.

  “Killed?” said the man, giving Dan a stern and sceptical look. The man picked up a walkie-talkie handset from his desk. Either for back-up, or for the police.