by J. A. Kalis
‘So, here we are at last, in this cosy little place I prepared for you. Not bad, don’t you think?’
‘What do you want? Are you going to kill me?’
‘Not right away, but I may change my plans if you disobey me.’ He fixed his eyes on hers without a hint of emotion crossing his face. ‘You know what your problem is? You ask too many questions. You’d better stop doing that or something bad might come out of it. Believe me, I can make you suffer.’
With measured movements, he picked up a coil of rope from the floor and wrapped it around the girl’s ankles and lower legs. She didn’t fight him off. When he was finished, he took one end of the second coil and tied it around her middle. The other end was looped through a metal ring set in the wall. The rope had enough slack to let her move around if she wished, just like a dog on a leash. She should be grateful, he thought. It’s better than nothing. At least she can lie down, get to the food and water I’ve left her.
In one rapid, firm movement of the knife, he cut the bonds on her wrists.
Judging it impossible to work any of the expert knots he had tied around her legs and waist free with just bare hands, he decided to leave her hands unbound. He could allow her this small luxury.
He would be back tomorrow. And if luck stayed on his side, he would fetch her a companion: the pretty blonde, Véronique. It was actually for her that he had initially prepared this secret place, planning to take her there that morning. But she hadn’t showed up, the bitch.
Undeterred, and having no intention of giving up so easily, he’d decided to track down Véronique and bring her here the next day. The idea of keeping both girls together, hidden in the cave, and having them all for himself, enticed him. It had come to him during the drive to Rocamadour and it kept spinning in his mind. He imagined how much fun it would be to play with them for a couple of days before he finally killed them. Here, he felt safe. Nobody, except him, knew about the underground hiding place. There was no danger of anybody discovering it. In that complex maze of tunnels and chambers, there were enough perfect places to dispose of a body.
He hadn’t shared the idea with Corinne. She didn’t need to know everything. When they talked, they agreed he would take Sandy’s sister to a secluded spot, kill her right away and get rid of the body. But a delay of a couple of days wouldn’t matter; there was no need for Corinne to know. There was no rush. They needed time to prepare their escape abroad, so he’d have a while.
‘Hey, here’s some food, a bottle of water and a small torch. Use it sparingly. And don’t even think about trying to get away. You don’t stand a chance of escaping. Believe me, it’s impossible. Be patient and wait. I’ll be back soon.’
The girl didn’t respond. Lorenzo checked the knots he’d made for a final time, and made sure there was nothing sharp lying around, that she might be able to use to free herself. Satisfied with the thorough inspection, he turned his back on the quivering figure and left without giving her another glance.
CHAPTER 10
During the flight home, Patrick attempted to get the image of Sandy’s inert body lying on a morgue gurney out of his head, but he couldn’t. Her puffy, ashen-grey face, ravaged with scratches, kept haunting him, proving impossible to shake off.
It was not how he wanted to remember his daughter. That stiff frame, covered partially with white cloth, hardly resembled the pretty living girl he knew. So full of life, so full of hopes, of plans for the future. All that was gone now. She had no present nor future. Only the past was left.
His head against the headrest, his eyes closed, he tried to call up her face, illuminated with a smile, but all he could see was that dreadful disfigured form from the morgue. The image made him want to cry. With effort, he forced the tears away, trying not to let the thoughts overwhelm him.
The more he thought about what he’d found out in Georgia, the more convinced he became that Lucien Chabert had killed Sandy. He was less sure about the role of the girl, Corinne Bonnet, wondering whether she was Lucien’s accomplice or just another innocent victim caught in the claws of a predator.
But Corinne was there, Mariam said they all went out together. She must have witnessed the killing. Had Lucien threatened to kill her if she ever dared tell anybody? Had he forced her to go into hiding with him, intimidating her to keep her in his power? There was no way to know it without speaking to either of them.
But it looked very unlikely the police would ever find the couple.
As doubts assailed him, a wave of anger surged and washed over him; anger at fate, at his daughter’s killer, at his own helplessness.
By the time the plane landed at London airport, absolute certainty had settled in his mind that the police would fail to bring his daughter’s murderer to justice. It had taken them too long to react. Lucien was already gone. Disappeared. By now he could be anywhere. With each passing day, he slipped further and further away.
Wrestling with the distressing thoughts, he decided that instead of waiting, he should act, act fast, taking matters in his own hands. He had to track Sandy’s killer down.
His mind haunted with the image of his daughter’s lifeless face, he swore he would avenge her death. He would do whatever it took to find Lucien. That was the only way to deal with her tragic loss. The only right thing to do. His resolve grew firmer by the second.
How could he live with himself otherwise?
What drove him to action apart from a wish to avenge, was the desire to know the truth. The fear that he might never know what had really happened up there in the mountains tormented him. For his own peace of mind, he had to find answers to those questions.
As he emerged into the arrivals hall, he spotted his wife’s lonely figure. Her head was turned the opposite way; she hadn’t noticed him yet.
A sense of unease and guilt stirred within him. When he’d told her earlier on the phone about Sandy’s death, he’d held back what he knew about how she’d died; that she was murdered. Seeing her now made the desire to share everything resurge and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Being unable to figure out a way to break it to her gently was what bothered him. He realized that no matter what words he used, they would hurt her.
As he approached Karen, all his previous anger at Sandy’s killer ebbed away. Anguish and concern for his closest ones took its place. Why isn’t Carol with her, he wondered. Was she too busy to come? Surely she’d want to be with her parents at such a difficult moment, hear first-hand what he had learnt during his stay in Georgia?
The moment Karen lifted her face to meet his eyes, he was taken aback by the change in her appearance, the strain plain to see. He hadn’t been away long, but she’d aged at least ten years since he’d last seen her. Her face, etched with lines of sorrow, was sallow and pinched. Her sunken eyes expressed great mental agony. Even without asking, it was apparent that Sandy’s death was too much for her to bear. As he walked up to her, he kissed her gently, closing his arms around her in an embrace. They stood like that for a long while, silent, her slender body clinging to his strong frame, before walking arm in arm to the car.
‘Why isn’t Carol with you? Couldn’t she make it?’
‘Carol? She went away on holiday. A week somewhere in France. I guess she needed a break.’
‘Does she know Sandy’s body was found? Did you tell her after my last phone call?’
‘Actually, no, I didn’t. She was about to leave for France and I didn’t want to spoil her holiday. I thought there would be enough time to tell her when she gets back.’
‘I guess you’re right. But there is still one thing you need to know, about Sandy’s death. I didn’t tell you everything.’
‘What do you mean you didn’t tell me everything? What else should I know? It was a tragic accident, wasn’t it? She fell down a mountain.’
‘Well, that’s not exactly how she died. It wasn’t an accident. She was killed,’ he blurted, wanting to get the burden off his chest as soon as possible. His gaze was fixed in fro
nt of him, avoiding hers.
‘What?’ The incredulity in her voice was almost palpable.
‘Before she fell, she was stabbed to death.’
Silence fell. Heavy. Tomblike. It magnified the sound of their breathing.
He caught a glimpse of her hands, tightening on the steering wheel until the knuckles went white. Her eyes glazed but no tears came. A couple of minutes passed before she spoke again, her voice thick with emotion.
‘Did it hurt? Did she feel much pain?’
‘I don’t know.’ His voice was hardly above a whisper.
‘Why? Why would anybody want to kill such a sweet girl? I just can’t believe it’s happening to us. Do the police know who did it? Did they catch the killer?’
He filled her in on everything he had learned from the police in Georgia, before disclosing his own suspicions. Gradually, her sorrow turned to anger and hate. Her jaw clenched and a cold, hard glint lighted up her eyes.
‘It must be him. I’m sure beyond the shadow of a doubt. The evidence is overwhelming. What are we going to do? Sit and wait for the police to catch him? And what if that never happens? Such a brutal killer can’t walk around as a free man. He must be stopped, put in jail. Maybe it won’t bring our daughter back, but it may save other lives. He’s probably killed before and will do it again. Maybe even now, as we speak, he’s prowling the streets looking for his next prey. We must find him before it’s too late. The way he killed her … my poor baby … my girl …’
‘Yes, you’re right, we must find him. But it won’t be easy. I don’t know much about either of them, or where to start looking for them. Maybe I should do an Internet search first.’
‘I’ll help you. I want to make myself useful. I need to do something. Stabbed? What a brutal death. Our daughter didn’t deserve such a horrible end. No one does.’
Before they stepped out of the car, Patrick cupped her face and kissed her softly on the mouth.
‘I promise you I won’t rest till I find him. I’ll do whatever it takes to get justice for our daughter.’
Despite the heat outside, the flat felt cold and empty. A sense of sadness filled it, intense, constricting. It was easy to imagine how much anguish Karen must have experienced sitting in here alone waiting for him to bring their daughter safely home, or the bitter disappointment she felt when the last sliver of hope was gone.
He unpacked and took a quick shower. As he was leaving the bathroom, he heard Karen’s mobile ring and her answering it.
‘Hello, Mike … Yes, I’m fine … No, so far she hasn’t called. The last time I heard from her was just after she arrived at the hotel.’
Trying not to make too much noise, Patrick joined her on the sofa. He listened to his wife talking, his gaze focused on her face.
Suddenly, he saw her expression change, her eyes widening in alarm. A feeling of unease washed over him. His body tensed in response.
‘I don’t understand. Please, slow down a bit. I don’t know if I can follow you. What do you mean?’ She listened briefly, her body stiffening and a deep frown furrowing her brow. ‘She went where? … You can’t be serious … You are. And she kept it secret from me? But she might be in great danger if they’re the killers … Oh, yes, of course, you don’t know. We found Sandy … her body … She was killed.’ She paused to swallow, emotion bubbling up in her throat. Holding the phone against her ear, she listened for a while before she finally said, ‘I see. Don’t worry about me Mike, I’m fine. Goodbye.’
She ended the call and placed the phone on the coffee table. She didn’t speak immediately. Her hands on her knees, fingers interlaced, she sat staring at the floor as if searching there for something that would help her find the right words. A slight quiver of her fingers told him something had upset her.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
Before she answered, she inhaled deeply. ‘It was Mike. I don’t understand how she could have done something like that to us.’
‘Done what? Who?’
‘Carol. She went to France to meet those two, Corinne and Lucien. And I didn’t even suspect anything. I believed her. She told me she needed a holiday. I feel so guilty I let her go there alone. When she called last she didn’t tell me where she was. And I didn’t ask. I thought she needed some privacy and peace.’
Her words made his blood run cold.
‘What? How did she know where they are? Even the police don’t know. I bet she doesn’t even half suspect the danger she’s put herself in.’ He slipped his mobile out of his pocket. ‘I’m going to call her and ask to come back right away, before it’s too late.’
‘Wait! That’s not all. Neither Mike nor me haven’t heard from her for about two days now. He said he’s tried to call her but she doesn’t answer. He’s left messages but she hasn’t called him back.’
Without saying a word, Patrick pressed a few digits, put the phone against his ear and waited. After a couple of rings, the voicemail kicked in. He wasn’t going to leave a message.
‘Something must have happened, something bad.’ Panic rose in her throat as she said it, colour drained from her face. ‘Patrick, we can’t lose another daughter. It’s too much to take. We must do something, we must save her.’
‘Calm down. Don’t panic.’ He held up his hand. ‘Just calm down, please. I can’t gather my thoughts. We haven’t lost her yet. I’ll go there and bring her home, I promise. But first I must call my office to let them know I won’t be coming back this week.’ He inhaled deeply, then rubbed his forehead and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Call Mike and ask him where exactly in France she went. I must prepare things, check flights. I want to leave as early as possible.’
‘I’ll go with you.’
‘No, it’s better if you don’t. I’m afraid you won’t be able to handle your emotions well. You get too panicky. Your being there may only make things worse. And it will put me on edge. France is closer than Georgia. Before you know it, me and Carol will be back home.’
CHAPTER 11
Carol sat, dazed and numb, watching the last sliver of light disappear. Darkness closed in on her. Ominous and impenetrable. Her captor’s swift footsteps had reverberated through the cave, slowly fading away. She listened. But apart from her own breathing no other sound reached her ears. Complete silence enveloped her.
She shivered, uncertain at first whether it was fear or the cold stones that sent a chill through her body, deciding it was probably both. There was no denying she felt scared and the flimsy blanket and sleeping bag on which she sat provided hardly any protection from the icy surface beneath. She folded her arms across her chest, rubbing them in an effort to warm herself.
She strained to see something – anything at all – but her eyes couldn’t pierce the darkness. She closed and opened them as wide as possible, then blinked several times, but it didn’t help. Blackness surrounded her, suffocating her.
A feeling of pure dread began to descend on her. It grew stronger until it became almost tangible, a lump forming in her chest. She felt like screaming but fought the impulse. Why bother? Nobody would hear her. Besides, who knows what predatory creatures might live in that underground maze. The noise would only alert them to her presence.
Panic flooded in as the horrifying reality dawned on her. She was trapped deep in a cave, alone, enclosed within thick stone walls like in a tomb. Nobody except her captor knew where she was. Claustrophobia gripped her. Her breath quickened, became more shallow. Her heart pounded wildly against her ribcage. She had to get out of here, get out as soon as possible. Frantic and desperate, she strained against her bonds, trying to loosen them, but she quickly realized it was futile. The ropes were tight and wouldn’t budge, no matter what she did.
Stop it! Calm down, you mustn’t panic. It will only make things worse, she reasoned with herself. She needed to keep her cool.
Gradually, she forced her breath to slow and deepen. She curled up like a foetus on the sleeping bag. Whimpering softly, she tried to transport
her mind into some other, agreeable place. A place where she would want to be right now, feeling safe and relaxed. She forced her mind to imagine herself sitting in a deck chair, in a garden full of flowers, their sweet scent filling her nostrils. The sky was clear. The sun was shining. The wind rustled gently in the trees; she could feel its balmy touch on her skin. Birds chirped merrily.
It took quite some time before she managed to trick her mind into calming down. Bit by bit, she felt some of the tension and fear leave her body. Her head cleared somewhat. She could think straight again. She forced herself to recall what she’d seen when Lucien had illuminated the chamber she found herself in right now. An image flashed in her head. To her dismay, it was blurred. The light hadn’t been strong enough to disperse the darkness, leaving the far corners of the chamber mired in murky shadow. What she had seen was only a section of the whole expanse: rough, eroded, jagged rock walls, a couple of boulders jutting from the ground, a blanket and a sleeping bag. On one of the flat top boulders, she’d glimpsed a bottle of water, something wrapped in a paper bag and a small torch. Oh yes, the torch. She needed it now.
Tentatively, she stretched out both hands and felt around. Her fingers traced the pattern of erosion on the cold stone surface until they encountered another shape. It was one of the boulders. Was it the one with the water and a torch on it? To check, she ran her hand up the irregular shape. Shifting her body forward, she continued feeling around. Her fingers touched an object that had a different texture. They closed around it. A bottle of water. In one swift move, she lifted it, bringing it closer to her body.
Suddenly, a hard thud broke the silence, followed by a clatter. She froze, the sound ringing in her ears.
The torch must have fallen off the boulder. I really hope it didn’t break, Carol thought.
She felt around the stone floor with her hands. Finally, her fingers closed around the torch. Feverishly, she grabbed it and turned it on.
Nothing.
She shook it, then pressed the on switch again.
