Night Driver

by Marcelle Perks

  ‘And Dorcas – what about her?’ said Lars in an odd voice. He could barely bring himself to broach the subject. It was painful to realise that he had to know. He relaxed his grip to give Hans a chance to speak.

  ‘She was the best of them, but we had no future… She was only a woman.’ Hans managed an ironic laugh.

  At that, Lars pushed him away in disgust. Hans lay screaming, trying to move his badly dislocated shoulder joints. Lars bent down and pushed Hans’s head up to show him Hugo performing on camera 6. He was naked with the Vietnam chick in the Blue Room. Hans’s eyes widened.

  ‘That the logical alternative, is it? Lars whispered in his ear. ‘This the way you do business?’

  Hans’s face squirmed. It felt as though Lars was torturing a rabbit. Just the threat of the pain was making Hans jittery.

  ‘Where are you taking them? The folks to be harvested?’ Lars was completely in control now.

  ‘On a f-f-farm west from Barsinghausen: Müllers Hof.’ Hans was wriggling, his face screwed up in pain. He looked like a butterfly which had lost one of its wings. Not so fucking clever now are you? Lars’s rage was making him hot-blooded. He felt completely justified in stopping Hans. Maybe he could do one last favour for Koch and get this trafficking ring closed down. But he had to move fast, before they captured him. There were so many loose ends and he didn’t care what methods he used.

  He held Hans fast in a deadly grip. There was no way he was letting him walk out of here alive. He couldn’t take the chance that he would do a deal with the police. As much as he hated to admit it, Hans was a danger to others. He had to take care of it. Now.

  He took out his knife and put it ritualistically in his right hand. Although Hans couldn’t see what he was doing, he sensed it and fought back with renewed strength. The tendons in his neck flexed like a python, but Lars overpowered him, showing his superior strength. He forced Hans’s neck to the side to get a good view of the delicate vein.

  Almost lying on Hans, he pressed the neck taut as if he was going to apply a wax strip and swiftly stabbed the jugular vein where he could see it flickering. The blood spurted out in a wondrous arc but the sound of it only sickened him. Hans gasped and blood came out of his nose. His face went grey, he tried to utter a final gurgle, but the exertion only speeded his loss of blood.

  Lars stood over the crazy scene like an executioner surveying his handiwork. He wasn’t aroused and made no attempt to taste the blood. A pool of it formed around the body and Lars had to move to avoid being totally splattered. He shuddered. Eklig!

  The speed of Hans’s passing stunned Lars. Perhaps because it was in real time as opposed to the high of orgasm, where a millisecond of euphoria left its presence for hours. He realised for the first time how ridiculous it all was. It was only the sexual feelings around it that had made it make sense. In truth, it was a nauseating business.

  Lars looked dispassionately at the blood. He couldn’t put into words what he felt, but somehow it was like seeing his own blood running out. He felt as if he’d committed suicide and was watching his prone body from above.

  They’d had a bizarre relationship, but they’d been two broken shards of the same whole. Now he was broken. Kaputt.

  Chapter

  Thirty-Four

  When Dorcas’s car roared into the car park, it was dark. The huge Moonlights neon sign had come to life. Just looking at it, Frannie started to shake. It reminded her of too much. She was sitting in the passenger seat, afraid of everything, including losing control of her bladder.

  Every ten to twenty minutes her uterus rocked with a force that took her breath away. When she stood up it felt as if gravity was affecting somewhere it shouldn’t, like the time when a newly inserted coil had worked its way out. It was painful and humiliating. There was no way she could sit upright for long. The tension was obviously getting to her. But her waters hadn’t broken, so nothing was happening yet.

  What she wanted was to lie down, make the pain go away. Not to have to drive Dorcas’s piece-of-shit car. She’d never even sat in a Polo before.

  ‘We need to swap,’ said Dorcas, unfastening her seat belt briskly.

  ‘I don’t think I can drive this.’ Frannie looked blankly at the gear stick. The reverse gear was in a different position and she’d have to overcome that to even move the car. Using anything technical, from lights to windscreen wipers, filled her with anxiety. Never in her life had she pipped a horn.

  ‘I’ll be in the back seat to give you any instructions you need, don’t worry about that.’ Dorcas gave her a quick smile. ‘Alles in Ordnung.’ She got out and lay down in the back seat with her head looking out of the window. Frannie half-slid awkwardly into the front. She had to put the seat back completely to get in, which earned her a fierce tsk.

  Dorcas shoved her head through the gap and confronted her with a picture on her mobile phone.

  ‘Introducing Hugo. He’s fat, always sweating. You can’t miss him. We all try to avoid him.’ Dorcas gave a sarcastic laugh. ‘If you see him, follow him. Perhaps he’ll lead us to this Stefan.’

  The man in the picture was dark and swarthy and gave the impression of not washing properly. His sallowness looked cruel. He seemed a complete rogue; a man to avoid, not chase after. Her mouth dropped. Great!

  Frannie hesitated. Something did not feel right. She tried to speak without sounding fearful.

  ‘Are you sure we should do this?’

  Dorcas looked at her quizzically, her eyes beady like a hungry bird’s. She was a woman used to taking what she wanted. ‘Do you want to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder?’ She tapped on the headrest.

  ‘But every time we go after them it makes things worse. I mean, you should have seen the way Elli attacked me…’ said Frannie. She promptly shut up. Two rosy spots formed on her cheeks. Dorcas was sprawled on the back seat. Not one bit of her showed anxiety.

  ‘She was pissed, but you weren’t in danger.’ She dismissed her fears with a wave of her hand.

  Frannie glared at her angrily. ‘You and your so-called friends! Lars chased me twice and Elli attacked me. I had to push my key into her forehead,’ said Frannie banging her hand on the wheel. Zicke. She was tired of this sniping.

  ‘You did what?’ Dorcas was practically clambering over the seat.

  ‘What else could I do? It’s not like I carry a bleeding gun.’ Frannie brushed her hair out of her eyes impatiently. She purposely hadn’t told her that before. In the mirror she saw Dorcas rise up like an animated corpse; her expressive eyes filled with malice. Frannie shuddered.

  ‘What are you, a trainee psychopath or something?’ shouted Dorcas with a snort. ‘How hard did you hit her?’ She glared at Frannie. Both women seemed to hold their breath.

  ‘The key went in…just a bit…honestly, it was nothing,’ stammered Frannie. ‘There was hardly any blood.’

  Dorcas exclaimed, and bent over her mobile, presumably trying to reach Elli. When there was no answer she jumped out of the car. Frannie flinched as the door slammed.

  ‘I’d better go see what’s up. After all, I set up your little date,’ she said, striding off forcefully. Then she turned around. ‘And if Hugo comes out, just put your foot down. Driving a car is like riding fellas – they’re all the fucking same in the end.’

  Frannie sank into the seat with her head in her hands. She felt like weeping uncontrollably, just letting go. But she had to stay alert. God knew what Dorcas was really up to. Even the follow-that-car scenario could be staged.

  The only way to cope was to be prepared for absolutely anything; and that meant being able to drive this thing. Meticulously, she looked down at the gears and checked the indicator panel to familiarise herself where everything was. When she had to react, it was going to have to be fast.

  Frannie was scanning the entrance to Moonlights so hard she couldn’t stop blinking. Most of the crowd were going in, but the bouncers were obsessively checking each customer for drugs, so she had to
constantly squint over their shoulders. In just minutes she saw a tall, fat man coming near the open doors. He chatted amiably with the bouncers as if he worked there.

  Her chest tightened. She’d been here less than five minutes. It was awfully convenient that she’d spotted him so soon. Could it be a trap? Dorcas had just gone in. But she couldn’t, could she? She frowned. Shit. She banged the dashboard frantically. But he was already coming out. Frannie could barely breathe.

  She watched as Hugo, despite his bulk, walked swiftly to a black Mercedes 4x4 parked over two parking spaces. In a few seconds he’d be heading out of the car park. His car was high and squat, like a tank. Inevitably he’d outrun her. With shaking fingers she turned the ignition key. At least she was going to goddamn try. As long as she stayed in the car, she’d be relatively safe.

  The engine of Dorcas’s car sounded totally different from Kurt’s A4. Dorcas had left it in first, and, when she put the gear stick to the left where the ‘R’ was indicated, nothing happened. Frantically, she pushed on the clutch, but the car remained stationary. The handbrake was off, and she couldn’t figure it out. Red-faced, desperate, she checked again.

  There was a ring on the gear. She experimented with pulling it up. Ah, that worked. But her foot was still clamped on the clutch. The car shot backwards at full speed before she could react and knocked into the car behind her. She heard the tinkle of broken glass.

  Frannie put her head in her hands. My God! She turned the car nervously, looked back. It was just a broken light. She blinked, tried to steady her breathing. No one had been hurt; she could deal with this later. She just hoped Dorcas’s car was still functional. Taking a deep breath, she drove out of the car park lot as fast as she could manage.

  Hugo was already far in front when she hit the Autobahn. His hefty black car stood out. Its bulk and profile seemed intensely masculine. Frannie felt angry every time she looked at it.

  If he’d gone at top speed she’d have had no chance, but Hugo drove steadily in the middle lane. Frannie pushed the little Polo as fast as it would go in the fast lane to catch up. When she drew near she had to swerve dangerously into the middle lane to nip in two cars behind. She almost collided with a silver Volvo. But she’d got him in her sights.

  Because his car was so high, she could still see it. She didn’t want to tail him too obviously. Hugo’s car was so clean the paintwork reflected all the street lights like a mirror. Frannie just hoped he was going to Stefan’s, that this would not all be for nothing.

  Once she was driving along a straight road, and didn’t have to concentrate so hard on driving, she became aware that the pains in her stomach were getting worse. She was operating mainly on adrenaline; every time her tension eased, her stomach seemed to hurt more. As she had no idea where Hugo was going, her mind had to race to keep on top of the situation. The constant stress was making her dizzy.

  Before, she must have been in shock, her guilt at having another car accident began to pull at her. Every car she borrowed got damaged. And if she pushed herself to take risks, as she’d have to, it was likely Dorcas’s car would end up battered beyond recognition, too. She gripped the wheel. It was down to the line.

  It was hard work keeping up the chase. Cars kept cutting her up and forcing their way into her lane. She had to fight to keep her place and ended up driving up the tail of the car in front of her. The overhead lights stung her eyes, making it harder to concentrate in the dark. And she had to look ahead, as well as checking the traffic flow on both lanes either side of her. Beads of perspiration formed on her brow, but she kept her foot down hard on the accelerator. This was no time for cop-out driving, taking the easiest route. She had no idea what roads were coming up ahead.

  Abruptly, Hugo turned right and went off at a junction. Frannie saw him go at the last minute and frantically blinked to get over into the slow lane, but there was a solid line of trucks blocking her path. If she didn’t go now, she’d miss the junction.

  She closed her eyes and nudged the car sharply right, hoped for the best. Her actions forced a truck to slam on his brakes. She heard the high-pitched squeal as his tyres slid, the fury of his horn.

  But Frannie was preoccupied driving the precarious circular route that took her left again over the Autobahn. It was like being on a fairground ride you had to negotiate yourself. The curve didn’t seem to end.

  The second she turned the corner she saw Hugo driving away, but she knew where he’d turned off; a Schnellstrasse in the direction of Gehrden. The name meant nothing to her, but they were moving west away from the city.

  She set off in pursuit, her chin clenched. This city street was full with traffic. Just the kind of start/stop flow she dreaded. To keep up with him, if she didn’t take risks and cut everyone up like Dorcas, she might as well pull over now.

  She sighed and pushed the car into fourth gear. She had to step up, get this over and done with.

  Dorcas pursed her lips as she got to the entrance of Moonlights. Her instinct was to run. She’d only stormed out of the car because Frannie was getting on her tits. Being constantly with a heavily pregnant woman made it impossible to blank out her own situation. Now her black silk skirt was digging in at the waist, and when she smoked she felt sick. Everything was falling apart and she’d hurt her one ally. She frowned. Why did she do this shit?

  She nodded to Marcus, her favourite bouncer, and entered the club. The boom of the music led her into the frenetic darkness. She gritted her teeth. Hans could not find out she was here. She’d learned the hard way to be wary of disobeying him.

  She made her way in the cranking lift down to the staff changing rooms. If she was quick, she could check on Elli, or ask someone if she was OK, and leave without Hans finding out. Although there were CCTV cameras everywhere, most of the time they weren’t monitored.

  The club was air-conditioned, but Dorcas felt flushed, as if she had a fever. It hurt her to admit it, but this peculiar nervous feeling was fear. When she pushed open the door, the new girls Nel and Candice were there.

  ‘Have you seen Elli?’ said Dorcas. The Vietnamese one, Nel, looked at her nervously. Dorcas thought she was always going to look like someone’s kid sister. She had that innocent look no one could fake.

  ‘I haven’t seen her since yesterday,’ said Nel. She looked lost, as if she had no idea what she was doing there. ‘She went off somewhere, didn’t come back. Her things are still here, look.’

  Dorcas nodded. Elli had left her purse, even her mobile phone. She frowned and exited, mumbling her thanks. Nel looked as if she’d had all the fight kicked out of her. She clenched her fists. She didn’t like to think Hans’s little empire included forced labour. As a prostitute she’d learned to turn down the volume of her anxiety. You had to get it to a manageable level and overlook the drugs, the petty crime. But this was a step too far. So much of her past had been a mistake. She was realising that now.

  She was on her way to the lift when a hand clapped on her shoulder.

  Dorcas instinctively hit out at the person. It was Lars, and in the dark corridor he loomed over her. There were new lines on his face and his breath stank.

  Dorcas refused to tremble. She stared at him.

  Lars was agitated. He went from staring at her with a tender smile to nervousness. He was also carrying a briefcase, something she’d never seen him with before. She shrank back, but he flung his arms round her and hugged her.

  ‘Dörchen,’ he whispered, pulling her to him. ‘I just saw you on the cameras and ran down to fetch you. Everything’s nearly ready.’ He whirled her round as if she was a little girl.

  ‘To fetch me?’ said Dorcas with a frown. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I can’t tell you the details,’ said Lars, ‘but I have to go away and I’m sorting things out.’ Now he was laughing, as if nothing had happened between them. ‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’ Dorcas looked at him with misgiving. Did he have amnesia or what?

  ‘I only have two minutes,’ said Dor
cas, trying to extract herself. ‘I just came in to find Elli.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that, it’s being taken care of,’ said Lars, ‘She’s sitting in my truck right now. You can help me. Komm mit.’ Dorcas exhaled sharply and followed Lars. He led her out to the car park, practically pulling her by her hand. She wondered if Frannie was watching this.

  Dorcas climbed into Lars’s truck. When she opened the door, she gasped. Elli was sprawled lifeless on the seat. Only her seatbelt was keeping her in place. She was breathing and her eyes were moving, but that was about it.

  ‘What have you done?’ screamed Dorcas, kicking to get down. But Lars was too strong. He threw her back on the seat. The door slammed shut. She banged her fist, but she was locked in. Desperately she looked closer at Elli. There was dried blood from a head wound that looked deep and vivid bruises around her forehead. When she held her hand it was cold. She could barely feel a pulse. Dorcas felt as if she could fall into a dead faint. Too much was happening. Had Lars hurt Elli? It couldn’t be true. Part of Dorcas’s mind seemed to close itself down. First Anna, now Elli. Was she next? And what about poor Frannie waiting for her outside?

  Lars got in with a little whistle and got the truck moving. He seemed in a world of his own. Dorcas begged him to let her and Elli go, or to call an ambulance, but when she got her mobile out Lars grabbed it and put it in his pocket.

  ‘Don’t bother. I’m dropping her off in about ten minutes at the Friederikenstift Krankenhaus. You can help me get her to the entrance.’

  ‘Why did you move her? Why didn’t you call an ambulance?’ screamed Dorcas, clasping her hands. ‘She’s got a head injury, for God’s sake.’ It could be her turn next. Maybe he was driving them somewhere to get rid of them.

  Lars grinned like an imbecile and wiped his mouth. ‘If I’d called an ambulance there would have been too many questions. I’ve got to stop them first, Dörchen,’ he said in the strangest voice. ‘You won’t believe it, but it’s for the greater good.’