by steve higgs
As Michelle levered me out of the boot and sat me on the lip, she asked. ‘Can you walk?’
Jennifer had the knife pressed hard against my ribs and a hand hooked around my neck so she had leverage to stick me with it if I tried to wriggle free. I tried to force my brain to come up with a way I could escape. Maybe shove one against the other and run for it? Twist away and grab for the knife so I had a weapon I could use? Scenario after scenario ran through my head but they all seemed improbable or impossible and though I could stand, it was all I could manage to stumble forward with both women holding me upright.
Michelle let go with one hand so she could look at her watch. I caught a glimpse: It was only just after eight-thirty, far earlier than I thought. She tutted. ‘When we get him in place, you need to get back to the car and get to the drop off point. I’ll catch up with you. We lost too much time dealing with this one. If I am late for shift at ten it will be questioned.’
‘But I want to see you strangle her,’ whined Jennifer.
‘It’s a him not a her and you can’t. We don’t have time.’
Huffily, Jennifer argued, ‘Then let me strangle her or him or whatever it is, and you take Quinn to the lake.’
Michelle suddenly stopped walking, her grip on my arm stopping me too. ‘We stick with the plan, Jennifer.’ Michelle’s tone would take no argument.
Her psychotic friend backed down. ‘Okay, Michelle. There’s no need to get bossy. Can I cut him before I go though? Maybe circumcise him a bit?’ she asked with another giggle.
‘No,’ hissed Michelle. ‘You should go back to the car. We are close enough. I’m going to do it just down there by the bridge.’ When Jennifer didn’t let go of me, she said, ‘Now, Jennifer,’ in her insistent tone.
Jennifer’s grip on me loosened and then let go. With a final whine about wanting to kill me, she did as Michelle ordered.
‘This is a popular dogging spot. We often catch people here doing things they shouldn’t because it leads to the housing estate from the High Street where there are pubs. It’s a Tuesday night though and too early for doggers to be out.’
Stumbling along the dirt path, I hadn’t questioned where we were because it made no difference. Now though, as we rounded the final bend, I saw the bridge ahead of me and knew exactly where I was.
I was in West Kinglsey park and that was Arthur’s bridge. I wanted to cry at the irony of my life. If I hadn’t taken the time to talk Arthur into reforming, he might be under there now, ready to jump out on anyone that came near. I was freezing cold, ready to wet myself with fright and though I had solved the case and found the killers, I hadn’t done so soon enough to prevent them finishing their killing spree and taking me out for good measure. Would anyone catch them now?
Michelle switched her grip on my arm as she turned me around to place the bridge behind us. Then yanked the belt even tighter around my throat. Then she kicked the back of my knees so I crashed down into the mud of the path on all fours. She was behind me with a knee against my back and both hands on the belt. There wasn’t a thing I could do as I felt the belt tighten and sparkles began to dance in front of my eyes. Flailing ineffectually at the wide belt, the gloves ensured I could get no purchase.
Sir Arthur. Monday, December 5th 2042hrs
Michelle didn’t even bother to speak. It was just a task to get done so she could move on. Like washing up or doing the ironing: Kill annoying private detective, drown chief inspector, go to work.
‘What the…?’ Michelle’s grip faltered and then failed and oxygen flooded into my lungs as I took a ragged breath in.
‘Get off my bridge!’
It was Arthur! The damned fool had lied about giving up his life as an ogre. I had one hand in the mud as I tried to pull the glove off my right hand with my teeth. It wouldn’t come but the belt was loose enough for me to breathe so, I clambered onto wobbly feet to see where he was.
Michelle screamed a banshee war cry and swiped at the huge man with a knife. Like Jennifer she had brought a kitchen knife with her but it wasn’t going to do her much good against Arthur the ogre.
They were down by the bridge, light from the moon illuminating the scene perfectly as Michelle switched grip and lunged again. Filled with hope that I might live, I had to distract her attention to give him an opening.
I tore the gag off and shouted, ‘Hey!’ it still didn’t sound right but she glanced my way and Arthur punched her in the face. I knew how big his hands were; it must have been like getting hit in the face with a small building. She didn’t just go down; she flew backward six feet first to land in the bushes and nettles next to the river.
Arthur took a step back which brought him up against the stonework of the bridge. He was holding his right side with one hand. ‘Arthur, are you alright? Did she hurt you?’
‘It’s Sir Arthur, if you please, Lady Jane,’ he chided, somehow convincing himself that he was an ogre and a knight. ‘Fear not, though, sweet child, tis not much more than a stitch in my side from the unexpected effort. I should worry more whether you are alright. That lady appeared to intend you harm.’
‘She was trying to strangle the life out of me, Sir Arthur.’ I rubbed my throat. She hadn’t been far from success when he interrupted her. ‘Oh, lord!’
‘What is it, my dear? Are you hurt?’
Whether it was lack of oxygen making it to my brain or something else, I had forgotten about Chief Inspector Quinn. ‘Do you have a phone with you?’
‘No, m’lady. That would be completely inappropriate for hiding beneath a bridge.’ Of course he didn’t have a phone, he was penniless.
‘Then we have to go. She has an accomplice and she is going to kill someone else if we don’t stop her.’
‘There’s not a moment to waste then. Let us away from this place. Um, what do we do with this one?’ Sir Arthur was nudging Michelle’s foot with his own. ‘I think I knocked her out.’
I should think he did. ‘We have to take her with us. Can you carry her?’
Leaving Michelle for a moment, Sir Arthur came to where I had found a spot to lean against a tree. ‘Are you sure that you can walk, Lady Jane?’ You look unsteady on your feet.
He was right. I was still unsteady. I pushed myself upright though. ‘I can make it. We need to get back along this path. Her car is there, and we can take that. I think I know where we need to go.’
‘I’ll get the young lady then.’ Sir Arthur went back for Michelle as I began wobbling along the path. Time was of the essence but when I tried to go a little faster, I stumbled and fell to my knees.
I didn’t stay there though, a giant arm scooped me into the air and Sir Arthur had me balanced on his right arm. I looked over his shoulder to find that he had Michelle by her right hand and was dragging her back along the path like a toddler with a teddy bear.
‘There’s her car,’ I pointed. It was the first time I had seen it properly. When they threw me in the boot, I had no idea nor concern what sort of car it was. Now I could see it was a Vauxhall Astra.
Sir Arthur tutted. ‘Oh no. No, this won’t do at all.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘This car. It has no style. No presence.’
‘It’s what we’ve got,’ I pointed out, levering myself out of his arms so I could search Michelle for her keys. As I patted her down, I saw how dumb my drug addled brain was. I should have searched her for a phone the first chance I got. A phone would have meant I could call Tempest or Amanda or gran and most definitely the police.
The keys weren’t on her though and neither was her phone. I checked the car to find it locked. Under the wheel arches and all other obvious hiding places yielded the same result: No keys and staring through the windshield I could see her phone sitting on the center console.
I swore. ‘Lady Jane,’ Sir Arthur chided. ‘Such language is unbecoming of a young lady. If I may though, I believe I can present an alternative solution.’
‘I’m all ears?’
‘Such a
strange expression. My abode is not far from here. I have cars there that we may avail ourselves to.’
‘You have a car?’ I asked, frowning. ‘Last week you were a tramp. Now you have a car?’
Sir Arthur’s reply was as odd as the rest of him. ‘I am Sir Arthur Chestwick-Fontneau. I have everything.’
I flapped my arms in frustration. It wasn’t like I had a choice about things. ‘Do you have a phone there as well?’ I asked as I started along the path again.
‘Yes, m’lady. Are you recovered? You are walking more steadily now.’ He was right, my legs felt stronger and my head clearer. No doubt, this was deliberate on the girls’ part because they wanted the Rohypnol to be untraceable. Time it so the drug is just wearing off at the time of death and the coroner won’t be able to prove it was ever there.
To Sir Arthur’s question, I replied, ‘Yes, we should hurry.’
And hurry we did, just about reaching a jog as we exited the woods and came onto the pavement. Sir Arthur and I had been on this exact spot just a few days ago when I took him for cake and let him unload his woes. How had I got from there to here?
‘Where to?’ I asked. Now that we were out of the woods, I had no idea which direction his house might be in.
‘Just across the road, m’lady.’ He pointed across the street.
I turned and looked, raised my eyebrows and turned back to look at his face. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’
With Michelle tucked under his arm like a rag doll, he crossed the road and pushed open the huge wrought iron gate. ‘Not one bit, my dear. This is the family home.’
As I followed him in, I saw the crest on the gate. It was the same one he wore on his blazer. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ The words escaped in a hushed breath of wonder as I looked up at the giant house. I had driven by it many times without ever looking at it. It was just another grand house and there were lots of them about. ‘But, but, you dress like you’re homeless and you live under a bridge.’
‘I don’t live under the bridge, dear lady. I merely choose to reenact one of my father’s fondest stories.’
‘Your father?’ I repeated, not following what he was telling me.
‘Yes, he’s the chap that wrote the Ogre Under the Bridge. He observed me playing with my friends one day when I was but a boy. He conjured the story right there and then. Of course he was already a successful author at the time but it became his best-seller.’ Arthur reached the enormous oak front door and pushed it open. As he got inside, he yelled a single word, ‘Bates!’
Standing behind him and feeling utterly bewildered, I watched as he settled Michelle on the tiled floor. A man in his forties wearing a pink apron over a white shirt and black trousers came through a door to our right. He had pink marigold gloves on his hands. He said, ‘Good evening, Sir Arthur.’
‘This is Bates, my valet,’ Sir Arthur explained. ‘Bates, I need you to look after this young lady and call the police. She has been rather naughty.’
‘Very good, sir. Will you be wanting supper?’
‘I have to go out again. I need my phone, can you fetch a jacket for Lady Jane, please and fetch the keys for the Aston Martin? I feel that speed will be a virtue tonight.’
‘Very good, sir. In which order would you like these tasks performed, sir?’ asked Bates, his tone bored.’
‘Use your common sense, man,’ sighed Sir Arthur. ‘The girl is clearly unconscious, Lady Jane is clearly cold, and I am clearly getting impatient. Give me the car keys and the phone, fetch the damned jacket and then call the police.’ As Bates slowly scurried away at a butler’s unhurried pace, a feat which was remarkable to watch, Sir Arthur put a hand to his side again.
‘Are you alright, Sir Arthur,’ I asked moving to see if he was hurt.
‘It’s nothing but a scratch, my dear. Nothing to worry about. Ah, here is Bates with the keys.’ Bates had taken the time to fetch a silver tray and placed a purple felt cloth over it so he could present the keys to the master of the house. Sir Arthur snatched them up, knocking the cloth to the floor. ‘Meet me outside with that jacket, and for goodness sake, hurry, man.’
Sir Arthur grabbed my hand and we ran from the house. I had no idea where we were going but across a gravel drive we came to another building. It was brick-built with a low roof. Once inside the lights came on automatically, the blinking strobes lighting up car after car and car as they stretched into the distance. ‘My father had a thing for cars. I can’t say I share it but they come in handy occasionally.’
Right at the front, for we had entered from the back, was a low-slung dark grey Aston Martin. It was an older model, something from the eighties I thought but it was sleek and powerful looking.
It wasn’t locked, so as Sir Arthur swung behind the wheel, I scampered around to the passenger side and slid in. The brutish engine roared to life instantly as the garage door swung open before us. Then we were going, Sir Arthur aiming the car at his butler then away at the last second so he could snag the jacket through his window as we passed. ‘Here you are, my dear. I’ll get the heaters on as well. Now where are we going?’
Rescue. Monday, December 5th 2112hrs
The car was an incredible piece of machinery but I didn’t have much chance to appreciate it because I was on the phone. Sir Arthur handed it to me so I could use it after explaining that the mobile phone hadn’t been invented when the car was made. The first call I made was to Tempest. I remembered his number but when I got no answer I was stuck because I hadn’t memorized any other numbers. I wanted to call Jan but since I couldn’t I dialed three nines and waited for the call to connect.
I got the operator and then got the police dispatch line at which point I started spewing information as fast as I could.
The dispatcher stopped me. ‘You’re going to have to slow down, caller. Let’s start with your name.’
Gritting my teeth, I said. ‘This is Jane Butterworth. You don’t have time to be asking questions. Chief Inspector Quinn from the Maidstone branch of Kent Police has been kidnapped and is about to be murdered unless you stick a rocket up your arse and get moving.’
‘Caller, are you threatening to kill someone?’ the dispatcher asked, the woman’s tone at least getting a little more excited now.
This was going to take too long. I switched tack. ‘Is Patience Woods there? I need to speak to her, right now.’
‘Caller…’
‘GIVE ME PATIENCE WOODS NOW!’ I bellowed.
There was a click and a new voice came on the line, ‘Hello, caller…’
Hearing a familiar voice, I interrupted once again, ‘Patience, this is Jane the crossdresser.’ I figured I might as well just say it and short cut the bit where I had to explain who I was.
‘Oh, hey girlfriend. What’cha calling for?’
‘I know who the Biddenden Lake murderer is. She has Chief Inspector Quinn and she’s about to kill him.’ I heard her mumble something that sounded like hooray, but I pressed on. ‘I’m on my way there now but I need back up.’
Getting into gear, I heard Patience start shouting at people in the dispatch room. A second later she was back in my ear. ‘Sugar, there’s already cops at Biddenden Lake. They’re hiding out in case the killer shows up at any point.’
‘She’s not putting them in the lake. They’re going into one of the feeder rivers that flows into it. That why there are no footprints or marks around the lake to show how the bodies are getting into the water.’
‘Where do I need to send the cars, sugar?’
I opened my mouth to tell her but shut it again. I was only guessing that I knew where Jennifer was going, I wasn’t certain and I had no idea how long she would wait for Michelle to arrive before drowning him herself. If, like me, the Rohypnol was wearing off, the chief inspector would be able to move and fight so I doubted she would hang around long.
‘The cars, sugar. Where do I need to send them?’ Patience prompted me when I didn’t speak.
‘Dammit, I’m no
t sure. Somewhere west of Biddenden Lake.’ There was more than one river feeding the lake and here had to be plenty of points where a body could be pushed in. They wouldn’t want to carry it far though! ‘Patience, can you pull up a map of the area? We need to look for points where the road runs close to the water. That’s where they will be.’
‘Sure thing, sugar. Hold on a moment now.’ I could hear other voices around her; one of their own was in trouble and they were pulling together. She said something to someone, the sound of her voice muffled as if she put her hand on the microphone before speaking to them. ‘I have a map, girl. There’s three rivers though.’
‘It has to be wide enough to carry a man’s body down and into the lake.’
‘Okay well that rules out that one,’ she replied.
I thought some more. ‘Do any of them have locks?’
‘Wow, yeah. Good call. If we rule out the Geer River, it only leaves one, so let’s look at the Tike.’ There was discussion at the other end, and I had a vision of heads crowded around Patience’s screen as they all pointed and argued. Patience came back on the line. ‘Okay, sugar, I think we’ve got something.’
Patience relayed the information and said she was sending everything available in that direction now. Cops would converge from every direction but we were more than halfway there having started at West Kingsley so we were going to arrive first.
As I came off the phone, I turned to Sir Arthur and caught him grimacing. ‘Sir Arthur, you are hurt.’ I held up my hand to silence him when he tried to deflect me again. ‘You are hurt. I’m going to take a look.’ Once my seat belt was unclipped, I leaned across the center console and transmission tunnel and pulled his jacket open. Everything inside was sticky with blood. It looked bad. ‘Does it hurt?’
‘Tis a minor inconvenience, my dear. Think nothing of it,’ he replied nonchalantly.
‘I’m going to tear your shirt, okay, keep driving.’ I grabbed the material were it was already cut and pulled it apart. It tore and he winced, the car jinking slightly but staying in its lane. He had been stabbed. It was low on his rib cage but there was no sound of escaping air and was too high to have caught any of his internal organs. Blood loss remained a concern.
