by J. A. Kalis
The truth dawned on Carol. They were in it together. A paralyzing fear seized her. The story about the map was just a ruse to get her here. And she was stupid enough to take the bait. The man who held her at knifepoint must have been waiting for her here. His identity was an easy guess.
‘Get into the boot. Quick. Move!’
In her stunned state, Carol could hardly move. Her limbs refused to budge. He pushed her. Hard. Her body slammed against the metal of the car. Her face twisted in pain and she gasped for air. The knife pressed harder into her lower back. She steadied herself with both hands.
‘Get in. Now! It’s your last chance. I won’t repeat it again.’
Awkwardly, she lifted her legs. This time they obeyed her orders. Hardly fitting into the constrained space, she lay down curled on one side, shaking. Her assailant loomed over her, casting a menacing shadow. At last she was able to see his face. She was right. It was Lucien. He looked exactly the same as in the picture Sandy had sent her.
A strip of tape in her hands, Corinne came to his side. When she bent over the boot and wrapped the tape around Carol’s mouth, her eyes met the hostage’s pleading, reproachful stare. There was no emotion, no mercy in their cold gleam.
Corinne and Lucien each took a coil of rope and tightly bound her wrists and ankles. Carol did not resist. She just lay inert on the dirty, carpeted lining, letting them do what they wanted. She felt like a trapped animal. Her heart pounded wildly against her ribcage, and small wheezing sounds escaped her throat.
‘You’d better go now,’ Corinne said to Lorenzo. ‘I’ll take care of her stuff in the hotel. Don’t worry, there’ll be no trace left of her when I’m done. You have my word. If you need anything, call me.’
The boot lid slammed shut. Darkness surrounded Carol. The air was oppressive, and she was surrounded by a stale, musty odour.
Frantic for oxygen, she took quick, shallow breaths through her nose. She feared she might suffocate. Panic threatened to overtake her senses. If it did, it could only worsen things. She had to fight it down. But it was easier said than done. From outside the car, she could hear the murmur of voices but couldn’t make out what they were saying.
The sound of a door slamming reached her ears, followed closely by the whirring noise of the engine starting. The car moved forward, its tyres screeching on the gravel. For a while the old vehicle bumped on the uneven surface, throwing her body around the boot, before it reached the smooth surface of the road, gaining speed within minutes.
CHAPTER 9
The low-fuel light warned Lorenzo there was not much petrol left in the car’s tank. If he didn’t wish to get stranded somewhere alongside the road, he should fill it up soon. But there were no petrol stations in sight. How foolish he was not to have topped it up before he left Cahors. Corinne’s phone call had put him on edge, but that was no excuse for the oversight. Was he becoming sloppy? He couldn’t allow his emotions to rule his behaviour. It was important to remain cool-headed, no matter how much things escalated.
As he drove, he mulled over what Corinne had told him. Assuming the English girl was telling the truth, nobody had yet discovered Sandy’s body. But that could soon change. Her father had gone to Georgia, and if he followed the trail the three of them had previously taken, odds were high he would find what he was looking for. It was just a matter of days. Maybe even hours. And when it happened, things wouldn’t be looking good for Lorenzo and Corinne.
The afternoon was hot and stuffy. Lorenzo could sense a thunderstorm approaching in the oppressive air. Keeping his right hand on the steering wheel, he used the back of his left hand to wipe the beads of perspiration that had already formed on his forehead.
Trying to ease some of the tension that had built up in his muscles throughout the day, he rotated his shoulders and inhaled deeply. Right away, his nose wrinkled in disgust at the pungent odour of stale sweat and food lingering inside the car, intensified by the heat. He was well aware that the interior was a mess but he couldn’t somehow bring himself to clean it. What he needed was a new car, something better than this old beat-up piece of junk. But he had no money to buy it.
As the air conditioning wasn’t working, he rolled down his window and stepped on the accelerator. A refreshing gust of wind brushed against his face, cooling his skin in an instant. Again, he breathed deeply, this time sucking in large gulps of clean, balmy air scented with a blend of dry grasses and herbs.
Seeking distraction, he turned the radio on. Soothing music filled the car’s interior, the kind he liked. Yet, he couldn’t relax. Frustrating thoughts continued to plague his mind. The fact that Sandy’s sister had managed to find Corinne puzzled and worried him. If Corinne hadn’t alerted him, Carol would have tracked him down too.
Why had she come here? Did she want to avenge her sister? To spy on him first, only to betray him later, bringing others to catch him? There was no doubt in his mind that she was playing a game, pretending to be a naïve, innocent girl, ignorant of what had really happened to her sister. She was definitely plotting something. If not, why would she come to France in the first place? His instinct told him not to trust her. One look at her face was enough to tell him she was the sort of girl whose inquisitive nature would not let her rest before she brought her sister’s killer to justice. But he wasn’t going to let that happen. No way. His whereabouts had to stay secret. The police mustn’t know where he lived. Just to be on the safe side – even with the girl now in captivity – he and Corinne would have to flee again, go into hiding for a time.
Then his thoughts shifted, turning to what had happened that morning. As agreed, he’d waited for the sexy blonde – Véronique – at the appointed place at eleven o’clock. But she hadn’t shown up. When he’d called her phone, it had gone straight to voicemail. An hour later she’d sent him a text message: Sorry, I couldn’t make it. Just that. Nothing more.
Such ill-mannered behaviour always made him mad. Even now, so many hours later, he was still fuming about the way she had treated him. He swore she was going to pay for it. How unwise of her to think she could brush him off as if he were a piece of dirt.
No, he wasn’t finished with her yet. It was just her stroke of luck that he had someone else to deal with first. A very tiny stroke of luck. Her time would come. He vowed it would.
His mood improved with these thoughts. Slowly, the knots in his shoulders relaxed. He began to hum along to the radio, while tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
Outside the car’s windows, a dozen houses stretching along both sides of the road broke the monotony of the desolate landscape. To Lorenzo’s great relief, a few hundred metres past the last house, he spotted a petrol station. By the time he pulled up to the petrol pump, the car’s tank was almost empty.
After filling the tank, he made a quick stop in the men’s toilet, before entering the shop to buy two bottles of mineral water and something to eat. His stomach was growling; his mouth felt parched. Within minutes, he found what he needed, and as an afterthought picked up a sandwich for the girl. He was about to pay when, looking through the window, he spotted a middle-aged, stocky man standing by the rear end of his vehicle, suspiciously eyeing the boot.
He needed to get out of there, quickly. To his dismay, the man behind the cash register wasn’t in a hurry. His movements were slow and awkward. Feeling impatient, Lorenzo threw a ten-euro note on the checkout counter and ran out of the shop without even collecting the change.
‘Hey! What are you staring at?’ He threw an angry look at the middle-aged man.
Before the man had time to react, Lorenzo climbed into the car, slammed the door shut and drove off, his foot heavy on the accelerator.
What a cheeky guy! He thought with anger. He knew the type: always ready to poke his nose into other people’s business. Once more, his mood shifted. His brow furrowed, neck muscles tensed and his jaw clenched. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.
Had the man noticed something suspicious? Was the girl kicking
or making a noise? Was he going to call the police? Had he memorized the vehicle’s registration number? For the next ten minutes, the worries kept nagging at him, refusing to go away no matter how hard he tried to shake them off.
His right foot pressed even harder on the accelerator. After a few kilometres he left the main road, taking a smaller one that wound through the sparsely populated countryside. The road was uneven, undulating. Vast grasslands stretched for miles, with scattered trees – mostly stunted oaks – and blue green juniper bushes, individual fields separated by dry-stone walls. Flocks of sheep and goats grazed peacefully on the gentle slopes. In the middle of some of the meadows stood small, circular dry-stone huts, erected to serve as shelters for farmers during stormy weather.
Up ahead, a sharp bend appeared and Lorenzo had to slow down. With ease, he manoeuvred his vehicle around it. There were no other cars to hinder him; he hadn’t passed a single car since he’d left the main road.
About a quarter of an hour later the landscape changed. More trees sprang from the ground. The underbrush thickened. Here and there, light-coloured, irregular-shaped limestone rocks appeared, looming over the dark-green canopy of trees.
Lorenzo knew this land well. A quick look at his surroundings told him he didn’t have far to go.
Another bend, and he turned the car off the narrow tarmac road onto a dry dirt track and raced down it, leaving a cloud of dust billowing in its wake. The area it crossed was wooded and even more desolate than before, with not a soul in sight.
He drove into a clearing, an expanse of bare ground and stones with patches of grass, and stopped. Unhurried, he got out of the car. For a moment he stood next to the car in the shade of a tall tree, motionless, watching the last dust particles settle. He stretched out his arms and took a deep lungful of the fresh air, delicately scented with pine, juniper and a hint of honeysuckle. His eyes narrowed with pleasure.
He listened, enjoying the usual quiet of the place. The only sounds to be heard were the merry chirping of birds and a gentle rustle of leaves moved by occasional gusts of wind. So peaceful. He loved such pure, natural surroundings. This old forest never failed to calm him down.
Gradually, his good mood and confidence returned. With each minute that passed, he felt better. Stronger. Before long, his worries and fear were gone. Here, he was on familiar ground.
Suddenly, a harsh screech tore through the air, followed by a loud flapping of wings. Startled, Lorenzo lifted his gaze to the sky just in time to see a peregrine falcon soaring high above the tree tops, its long pointed wings moving rapidly. It hovered overhead before flying away. Lorenzo’s eyes, full of admiration, followed the bird until it disappeared from view.
He slammed the car door shut and with a steady gait approached the back of the car. Before he pressed the latch of the boot, he wondered for the first time if the girl had survived the journey. It must have been stifling hot inside the boot, and with the lack of oxygen, she might have suffocated. If so, he could mark this task complete. The only downside would be that he would miss out on all the fun.
When the boot lid sprang open, a blast of stale, hot air hit him in the face. He peered inside. The girl was lying curled on one side. She didn’t stir. He leaned forward to take a closer look, his features twisting into a grimace. The girl didn’t present a pretty sight. Her face was red and moist, with sweat or tears, he wasn’t sure. Probably both. Her hair was messy, with a few wet strands plastered to her forehead and cheeks.
At the sudden flood of light, her eyes – reduced to mere slits – squinted. A slight wheezing sound escaped her nostrils.
She was alive, just.
Lorenzo’s face lit up. It looked like he’d lucked out – he wouldn’t miss the fun part after all.
He leaned closer and in one rapid movement removed the piece of tape covering the girl’s mouth. Here, in this desolate place, there was no danger of being discovered. It wouldn’t even matter if she screamed at the top of her voice. There was nobody to hear her or come to her rescue.
The girl was so drained of energy that all she could manage was a painful grunt, her face twisting in pain. For a minute or two, she panted and gasped for air as if after a long run. When her breathing finally slowed down, she spoke in a voice hardly above whisper, her eyes averting Lorenzo’s scrutinizing gaze. ‘Water … please … I need to drink some water … my throat is so dry. Please.’
He was delighted to hear a pleading whine in her voice. A smile lighted his smug face as he studied the docile prisoner for a moment longer, without making an attempt to satisfy her request.
Her mouth was a bit too big, her cheekbones too prominent and he didn’t like her light brown hair. He preferred them blonde. Her sister was definitely the better looker of the two, he decided. But she would do.
‘Whatever you wish. You deserve it after such a rough journey. I am at your service. You know, I’m not a bad guy. I try my best to please people. It’s a pity not all of them appreciate it …’
He waited for a reaction but when none came, he headed to one of the passenger side doors, returning a minute later with a bottle of mineral water in his hand.
The girl was so weak she could hardly move. She tried, but with her hands and feet tied, getting up turned out to be an impossible task. Amused, he stood and watched her futile attempts, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips until he finally decided the show had lasted long enough. She didn’t resist as his strong hands gripped both her arms and pulled her to a sitting position.
He put the bottle to her quivering lips. Her body shook as she drank the cool liquid in quick gulps, apparently afraid that he might take it away any moment. Some of it was spilling over her chin and running down her T-shirt. He held the bottle until she motioned her head to tell him she’d had enough.
He took a knife and cut the ropes wrapped around her ankles, then helped her get out of the boot. Her body swayed and she had to steady herself for a moment, leaning against the side of the car.
As he was closing the boot, his gaze swept over her slender figure, appraising it. He liked what he saw. Maybe he’d judged her too harshly at first.
A quick glance at his watch told him it was getting late and he should hurry if he wanted to reach home before nightfall. So he took hold of the girl’s arm and pushed her hard. ‘Let’s go. I haven’t got all day.’
‘Where are you taking me? What are you going to do to me? Are you going to kill me like you killed my sister?’
He ignored her questions and they walked in silence, pushing their way through underbrush. It felt cooler under the shade of the trees. There was no path, and with each step they had to be careful not to stumble over roots or fallen branches. The deeper they went into the wood, the denser it became. It also grew darker, as little sunlight filtered through the canopies of trees above their heads.
About twenty minutes later, a rocky escarpment emerged from the greenery ahead of them. Ploughing through large ferns, Lorenzo headed for it, pushing the girl ahead of him. There was a gap in the middle of the rock wall, visible only from up close. It was barely wide enough for a slender person to pass through at the bottom, tapering upwards until it became nothing more than a fissure.
‘Get in there!’
‘Where? In there?!’ She pointed with her tied hands to the rock crevice. For the first time since he had opened the car’s boot, her eyes met his; they were wide with disbelief. ‘That’s a crazy idea. You don’t think I can squeeze through such a narrow gap, do you?’
‘Just do it! Go! Don’t play with me. I’m warning you, I’m not in the mood. Don’t try my patience!’
To add strength to his words, he produced a knife from his pocket and pressed its tip against the girl’s back. At the same time, his free hand pushed her hard towards the opening. Twisting like a frenzied animal, she broke free from his iron hold, dodged aside and darted away from the rock wall, not even bothering to push the ferns aside, letting them slash at her legs as she ran.
&nbs
p; She didn’t get far. He caught her as she tripped over a stone jutting from the ground. Holding her tight, in a way that eliminated any possibility of escape, he forced the girl into the crevice. Then he squeezed his own body through the gap. Chill air assailed their skin as soon as they stepped into the cave. Semi-darkness surrounded them, broken only by the sliver of light seeping in through the opening.
Lorenzo switched on the torch he’d brought with him and shone it down the elongated chamber. With a determined pace and a confident look on his face, he crossed the empty space, heading for the entrance to a tunnel. His captive became docile again, showing no resistance as he dragged her along.
The shadows danced eerily on the walls, exaggerating their movements, as if mocking them. The complete silence magnified the slightest sound. Lorenzo’s own measured breathing mingled with the girl’s rapid breaths. Each footstep echoed throughout the cave.
Abruptly, the twisting tunnel ended and they emerged into another chamber, much bigger than the first. There was, however, little room for passage in this vast interior. Sharp-tipped stalactites hung from the ceiling, some of them nearly reaching the floor. From the ground rose stalagmites, in a huge variety of shapes and sizes, looking like a strange array of sculptures. In a few rare places, where both kinds of formation met, striking pillars materialized.
Undaunted by the presence of all these calcified forms, Lorenzo manoeuvred with ease. Each time his torch beam touched the ceiling, the innumerable icicles sparkled like diamonds. They crossed the chamber without stopping and entered another narrow tunnel, one of three leading out of the room. The winding passage was so long that it seemed it would go on forever. They followed it until it opened up into another chamber, a low-ceilinged and rough stone-walled one.
In one of the corners lay a sleeping bag and a few other items scattered around. Lorenzo pushed the girl towards it.
