Текст книги "The Night Stalker"

Автор книги: Chris (2) Carter

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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

One Hundred

Clouds were gathering when Andrew Harper turned his van into State Highway 170, going north. From the back seat of the brown station wagon in front of him, a kid of about nine smiled and waved at him, an ice-cream cone in his hand. It wasn’t as if Andrew ever needed reminders for his mind to take him back to that day, they were everywhere he looked, but at the sight of the kid and his ice cream, Andrew twitched like a cow shaking off flies as vivid images flooded his memory. In an instant, he was transported back to his father’s truck that Sunday morning. His father had driven just a couple of blocks before stopping at that gas station.

‘I have a surprise for you,’ Ray Harper said, turning to face little Andrew who was sitting in the passenger’s seat. His lips smiled but his eyes betrayed him. ‘But first, let me go get you some ice cream.’

Andrew’s eyes widened. ‘Ice cream? Mom doesn’t like me to have ice cream. She said that since my cold, ice cream isn’t good for me, Dad.’

‘I know she doesn’t, but you like ice cream, don’t you?’

Andrew nodded eagerly.

‘One single scoop can’t hurt. This is a special day, and if you like ice cream, you can have ice cream. What flavor?’

Andrew thought about it for a beat. ‘Chocolate brownie,’ he said, his happiness almost oozing through his pores.

A few minutes later Ray came back to the car with two cones. Andrew bit into his as if the whole thing would vanish in thin air if he didn’t eat it immediately. Less than a minute later he had finished his cone and started licking his fingers.

Ray had just finished his ice cone when a single, powerful sneeze exploded out of Andrew, and with it came blood. Andrew didn’t manage to cover his nose in time and blood splattered everywhere: dashboard, windshield, door, but mainly all over his shirt. The nosebleed that followed was short but intense, enough to drip onto his trousers and shoes. Ray instantly reached for Andrew, tipped his head back slightly and used the edge of Andrew’s shirt to clear the smudges around his nose and mouth. The bleeding stopped within two minutes.

‘OK,’ Ray said with an apologetic frown. ‘Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all.’

Andrew smiled before looking down at his bloody shirt and cringing.

‘It’s OK, kiddo,’ Ray said, putting a hand on the kid’s head. ‘I said I had a surprise for you, remember?’ He reached behind his seat, and from under his coat he retrieved a gift-wrapped box. ‘This is for you.’

Andrew’s eyes lit up. ‘But it’s not my birthday and it’s not Christmas yet, Dad.’

‘This is a pre-Christmas present. You deserve it, son.’ Sadness masked Ray’s face for an instant. ‘Go ahead, open it. I know you’ll like it.’

Andrew ripped the paper from around the box as fast as he could. He loved presents, though he never got many of them. His whole face morphed into one huge smile. The top item was a brand new T-shirt. On its front was a large Wolverine print, Andrew’s favorite character from the X-Men Marvel comics.

‘WOW!’ was all he could say.

‘Go ahead, check the next one,’ Ray urged him.

Andrew could tell what it would be even before opening the box – a new pair of trainers, also covered in Wolverine and X-Men prints. Andrew looked at his father, half-shocked.

‘But, Dad, these are really expensive.’ He knew his family had been struggling with money lately.

Ray’s eyes became glassy. ‘You deserve a lot more, son.’ He paused for an instant. ‘I’m sorry I could never give you all that you deserve.’ He kissed Andrew’s forehead again. ‘Why don’t you try everything on? That way you can get rid of that dirty shirt.’

Andrew hesitated.

Ray knew how shy his son was. ‘I’ll go and get us a couple of sodas and you can get changed, OK?’

Andrew waited until his father had reentered the gas station’s shop and quickly stripped off his bloody shirt and threw it in the back seat. The scar on his chest from last night stuck out from the other ones across his torso because it was so red and itchy. He rubbed it gently with the tips of his fingers. He’d learned never to use his fingernails in case the wounds started bleeding again. By the time Ray returned to the truck with a paper bag and two bottles of Mountain Dew, Andrew’s favorite soda, he was dressed in his new shirt and trainers.

‘They look great on you, kiddo,’ Ray said, handing him a bottle.

Andrew smiled. ‘I’ll have to take the shoes off, Dad. They’ll get dirty when we get to the lake.’

Something in Ray’s eyes changed. His whole being was filled with grief and sorrow. ‘I have to tell you something, son. We’re not gonna go fishing today.’

The sadness was mirrored on Andrew’s face. ‘But Dad, Mom said that if I caught a big fish today, you wouldn’t fight any more. She promised.’

Tears returned to Ray’s eyes but he held them there. ‘Oh, honey, we won’t fight any more. Never again.’ He placed a hand on the boy’s nape. ‘Not after today.’

Andrew’s eyes glistened with happiness. ‘Really? You promise, Dad?’

‘I promise, kiddo, but I need you to do something for me.’

‘OK.’

‘I have something very important to do today, that’s why we can’t go fishing.’

‘But it’s Sunday, Dad. You don’t work on Sundays.’

‘What I have to do today isn’t work. But it’s something very, very important.’ He paused for an instant. ‘You told me once that you have a secret place, isn’t that right?’

Andrew looked concerned.

‘Do you still have it?’

The boy nodded shyly. ‘Yes, but I can’t tell you where it is, Dad. It’s secret.’

‘That’s OK. I don’t want you to tell me where it is.’ He reached under his seat for something. ‘What I need you to do is go to your secret place and stay there all day long. You can play with these.’ Ray showed him three six-inch figurines – Wolverine, Professor X and Cyclops.

‘Wow.’ Andrew couldn’t believe his eyes. It got better and better.

‘What do you say? Do you like your presents?’

‘Yes, Dad. Thank you very much.’ He reached for the toys.

‘It’s all right, son, but can you do that for me? Can you go to your secret place and just stay there until tonight, playing with your new toys?’

Andrew slowly peeled his eyes from the figurines and refocused them on his father’s anxious face. ‘You won’t fight with Mom again?’

Ray gave him a coy headshake. ‘Never again,’ he whispered.

‘Promise?’

‘I promise, son.’

Another animated smile. ‘OK then.’

‘Don’t come out until tonight, you hear?’

‘I won’t, Dad. I promise.’

‘Here.’ Ray gave him the paper bag. ‘There are chocolate bars – Butterfingers; I know they’re your favorite – some Pringles, a cheese and ham sandwich and two more bottles of soda, so you don’t get hungry or thirsty.’

Andrew took the bag and looked inside.

‘Don’t eat everything at once or else you’ll be ill.’

‘I won’t.’

‘OK then. Is your secret place close by? Can you walk there?’

‘Yes, I can walk there, Dad. It’s not far.’

Ray hugged his son again, this time for a very long time. ‘I love you, Andrew. I’ll always love you, son, no matter what. Please remember that, OK?’

‘I love you too, Dad.’ While his father battled with tears, Andrew opened his door and skipped on down the road with his new shirt, trainers and toys. His father had promised never to fight with his mother again. It was the happiest day of his life.

One Hundred and One

Andrew turned on the radio, hoping that music would help push the memories away, but it was already too late. His mind was on a rollercoaster trip, and the memories and images just kept on coming.

He remembered that it had taken him only a few minutes to get back to his house after leaving his father at the gas station. He stuck the figurines in his coat pocket, jumped the fence and waited in the bushes that led to the backyard. He just wanted to make sure his mother wasn’t out there. It was too cold for her to sit out back anyway. Dashing to the wall, he started climbing up the trellis as he did every day, this time being even more careful than usual not to dirty his new trainers. He squeezed through the small round window at the top and entered his secret place.

The first thing he did, as always, was to take off his shoes and slip into a thick pair of woolen socks. The attic floorboards were steady, and he’d identified the squeaky spots long ago, but he still had to be careful when moving around up there. Andrew had already developed a way of tiptoeing and sliding his feet across the floor that allowed him to move around in almost total silence.

Andrew placed the three figurines on top of a wooden crate in the corner and stared at them with smiling eyes. His gaze flicked over to a bag of cotton balls and a box of paper clips on the floor by the crate. He felt something warm start growing inside him. Something he hadn’t felt in a long while. Suddenly he stuck his tongue out at the cotton balls and paper clips, mocking them. He wouldn’t be needing them any more. His father had promised him that he’d never fight with his mother again. And his father always kept his promises. They would go back to being a happy family like they used to be. And that meant that he wouldn’t have to initiate his own pain any more.

Andrew slotted himself in his favorite corner and grabbed a handful of comic books. He’d read them all, but he didn’t mind.

He must’ve been sitting there, flipping through his magazines for almost two hours when he heard a noise inside his parents’ room. Andrew put the comics down and looked through one of the many gaps he’d created in the floor. His mother had just walked into the room. She was wrapped in a fluffy yellow towel. Her hair was still wet and combed back. Andrew took his eye off the gap before his mother let go of her towel. He’d seen her naked before, but it had been by mistake. She’d been standing on a blind spot from any of Andrew’s floor gaps. When she finally reappeared, she had nothing on. Andrew knew it was wrong to look at his mother or father naked. He’d seen them hiding under the covers, making strange noises. He knew that’s what all the kids in school called a fuck, but from where he was standing, neither of them looked like they were enjoying it very much.

He went back to his comics, knowing that he had to be extra quiet now, but then he heard the door to his parents’ room being slammed shut with tremendous violence. His eye returned to the gap and his breath froze for several seconds. His father was standing by the shut door, but his face was almost unrecognizable, covered in so much rage it frightened Andrew down to his soul. His father’s hands, arms and shirt were soaked in blood. His mother was standing naked and paralyzed across the room from her husband.

‘Oh my God. What happened? Where’s Andrew?’ she asked, panic stalking her voice.

‘You don’t have to concern yourself with Andrew, you lying whore,’ Ray blasted in such an angry voice the room almost shook. ‘You should concern yourself more with your fucking lover.’

Emily hesitated.

‘I don’t think you’ll be fucking him any more.’ From his pocket he took something out. To Andrew it looked like a very bloody piece of meat.

Emily let out a strangled cry. ‘Oh my God, Ray. What have you done? What on God’s earth have you done?’ Her hands shot towards her open mouth in absolute terror.

‘I made sure that Nathan, that pathetic excuse for a man, will never wreck another home again.’ He smiled a satanic smile. ‘I also made sure that he won’t be able to say a word when he meets his maker. You could say that his lips are sealed.’ He took two steps in Emily’s direction.

She took one pace back and tried to cover her body with her hands.

‘Why did you have to do it, Emily? Why did you have to destroy our family? Why did you have to betray my love this way? Why did you have to make me do these things?’ Spit flew from Ray’s mouth. He returned the bloody piece of meat to his pocket. ‘Do you remember what we used to say to each other?’ He didn’t wait for a reply. ‘We used to say – You are the one, honey. You are the one I’ve been looking for all my life. You are my soul mate. We’ll never be apart because you are the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Do you remember that?’

Silence.

‘ANSWER ME.’

Ray’s yell was so loud and full of rage, Andrew immediately wet himself up in the attic.

‘Ye– yes.’ Emily had started crying and shivering so violently she was almost hyperventilating.

‘But I wasn’t the one, was I? You lied to me, you deceitful bitch. You made me believe that what we had was sacred . . . special . . . everlasting. But it wasn’t, was it? I wasn’t enough for you.’

Emily’s lips wouldn’t move.

‘Was he the one?’ Ray asked. ‘Was Nathan the one for you?’ He moved a step closer. Emily’s back was against the wall. She had nowhere else she could go. ‘Did you love him?’

No reply.

‘Did. You. Love. Him . . . ?’ Something changed in Ray’s entire demeanor, like someone else was taking over. Someone beyond evil.

Emily’s voice was completely gone. Her vocal cords frozen by sheer fear. In a reflexive and thoughtless action, she nodded ever so slightly.

That was all Ray’s rage needed to erupt.

‘If that’s what true love means to you, then you should have it. You should have it inside you forever. You and him, together as one – forever.’ He moved towards her with such speed and purpose that not even an army of soldiers could have stopped him. His closed fist hit the side of her head with so much power she collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Above them, Andrew was petrified, too scared to respond, his voice had disappeared and his eyes had almost lost the ability to blink. His mind too young and naïve to cope with all the images. But he never moved. He never took his eye off the gap.

For the next hour Andrew watched the monster inside his father surface.

Ray dragged Emily’s body to the bed and tied her down. He then grabbed a long piece of thick black thread and a needle, and proceeded to meticulously stitch her mouth shut. He retrieved whatever strange piece of bloody meat he had with him, spread Emily’s legs apart and forced it into her before stitching her shut. Ray then used her blood to write something on the wall. The letters were big enough for Andrew to be able to read them – HE’S INSIDE YOU.

Ray tipped the bed on one end so his wife was in a standing position and pushed it against the far wall.

Tears streamed out of Andrew’s eyes.

From the box on top of the wardrobe, Ray took his double-barreled shotgun, sat on the floor directly in front of Emily, crossed his legs, rested the shotgun on his knees and waited.

He didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later Emily opened her eyes. She tried to scream but the stitches on her lips kept most of the sound trapped inside her body. Her disbelieving eyes rested on her husband’s face.

He smiled at her.

‘Was this what you wanted, Emily?’ His tone had changed – serene, understanding, as if he’d suddenly found eternal peace within himself. ‘This is all your fault. And I hope you rot in hell for it.’ Ray tilted his head back and placed the barrels of the shotgun under his chin. His finger tightened its grip on the trigger.

Emily convulsed in anticipation of what was about to happen, and in realization of what Ray had done. He’d lost his mind completely. She was certain he’d killed their son, her lover. The contents of her stomach catapulted into her mouth and were blocked by Ray’s stitching. She panicked and started to choke. Oxygen couldn’t find its way into her lungs.

With his head tilted back, Ray took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. And on that last fraction of a second just before the shotgun hammers were released, he saw them. Hidden between the wooden ceiling boards. He saw them because the light reflected on them and they blinked.

He saw his son’s terrified eyes staring straight down at him.

One Hundred and Two

She woke up but didn’t open her eyes. She knew she hadn’t been unconscious for too long – five, ten minutes maximum. As the damp cloth was pressed against her nose and mouth back at her front door, she recognized the characteristic smell straight away – ether. She also realized that in her crouched position, ambushed by a surprised attack coming from behind her, and against an opponent that was certainly stronger than she was, fighting would have been pointless.

Instinct immediately kicked into action. As soon as she realized that her attacker was using an anesthetic to subdue her, she knew exactly what kind of reaction he’d be expecting from her. She played along, holding her breath for as long as she could and faking a struggle. Her initial mouthful of ether would no doubt knock her out, but not for too long. If she could act convincingly enough that she was fighting her attacker and gasping for air, he would believe that she’d taken in enough breaths to render her unconscious for a long while.

It worked.

Her assailant didn’t hold the cloth to her nose for longer than twenty-five seconds, believing she was under.

Now, Captain Blake remained totally still and silent. She could hear the rattling of a car engine. She felt the hard floor under her vibrate and bump every so often. She opened her eyes very slightly to get a better idea of her environment. There was no doubt: she was lying down in the dark back cabin of a van, speeding somewhere. Her hands were tied behind her back, but her feet weren’t restrained. That could give her a chance. Her cell phone and handbag were gone – no surprise there.

For now she knew there was nothing she could do but wait.

She had always been very in tune with her mind’s clock. She figured they had driven for about an hour before they came to a complete stop. The van seemed to be moving at a reasonable speed for most of the journey, which meant that somehow they’d managed to avoid most of the stop-start traffic Los Angeles was so famous for. Wherever he’d taken her, she was pretty sure it was somewhere out of town.

She heard the driver’s door open and then slam shut. He was coming for her. It was show time.

She quickly slid down towards the back door, getting as close to it as she could. She would only have one chance at this. She brought her knees close to her chest and waited. This time the element of surprise was on her side. She heard the doors being unlocked and prepared herself.

As the doors opened, she kicked out as hard as she could. Her feet thundered against her captor’s chest. For the first time in her life she wished she had worn stiletto heels to work.

As she’d predicted, it caught her captor totally by surprise. It knocked the breath out of him and sent him tumbling backwards, straight to the ground.

She threw her body forward and pushed herself to the edge of the van’s back cabin. Her legs were shaking so hard from fear and adrenalin she was unsure if she’d be able to stand up. As she fought to steady them and jumped out of the van, her eyes quickly scanned her surroundings. The van was parked in front of a large old building, but there was nothing else around except wasteland, unkempt vegetation and the narrow road they’d obviously taken to get there.

Her gaze dropped to the floor and fear rose in her throat like a tsunami. Her captor was gone.

‘Fuck!’

Panic took over and she started running in the direction of the road, but she didn’t have the proper shoes for it and her hands were still tied behind her back. All she managed was an awkward, wobbly dance for a few strides before her legs were hooked from under her with amazing force and precision. She hadn’t even heard him come up behind her again.

She hit the ground hard with a thud, shoulder first, then head. Her vision blurred and all she could see was a figure towering over her.

‘So, clever bitch wants to play rough, huh?’ His voice was calm but very menacing. ‘Well, check this out.’

His fingers closed into a fist.

‘It’s pain time, whore.’

One Hundred and Three

Whitney Myers checked her watch before answering her cell phone after the third ring.

‘Whitney, I’ve got some information for you,’ Leighton Morris said in his usual overexcited voice. Morris was another of Myers’ LAPD contacts, who she called upon every now and then when she needed inside information.

‘I’m listening.’

‘That detective you asked me to keep an eye out for, Robert Hunter . . . ?’

‘Yeah, what about him?’

‘He boarded a plane early this morning.’

‘A plane? Where to?’

‘Healdsburg in Sonoma County.’

‘Sonoma County? What the hell? Why?’

‘That I don’t know. But it’s certainly something to do with the case he’s investigating at the moment, which by the way, is very hush-hush.’

‘He left this morning, you said?’

‘That’s right, and he just booked a return ticket for this afternoon.’ There was a brief pause. ‘Actually, he should be boarding pretty soon.’

Myers checked her watch again. ‘Into LAX?’

‘You got it.’

‘Do you have the flight details?’

‘Right here.’

‘OK, text them to me.’

She disconnected and waited.