Turtle Island (42 page)

‘Is there a problem officer?’ Georgina noticed his eyes were
already fishing through the gap in her blouse; so predictable.
Though in the wet, torchlight night, she had to admit to herself
that he looked cute. ‘I work at the hospital, I'm just going home.’
Georgina lied, hoping that he was as dumb as he looked. The rain
was now bouncing so hard off the car's roof that Georgina had
difficulty hearing the officer.

‘Hey, small world, my girlfriend works there.’ A smile briefly
flashed across his soaked features. ‘Maybe you know her. Julie
Cardonez?’

Georgina gripped the steering wheel tighter and her foot
hovered over the accelerator.

‘Julie Cardonez?’ Georgina repeated, as though searching
through her memory for a face to fit the name. ‘I'm kinda new there
so…Julie?’

The officer nodded, sending a shower of rain down to the
ground from the plastic protector fitted over his cap.

‘Dark hair, kinda sexy…brown eyes.’

‘Yeah, that's her.’

‘Yeah, I've spoken to her a couple of times but not much. As I
said I'm new there.’ Georgina noticed the cop’s eyes flick this way
and that, as they all but left his sockets and jumped into her
bra.

‘You need my ID.’ Georgina turned knowing full well that her
blouse would gape even further as she pretended to fish about in
her handbag. He let her pretend for a few seconds revelling in the
view before saying.

‘Nah, you know Julie, maybe we’ll meet up some time.’ The
officer stepped back. ‘Have a good evening.’

‘Hopefully.’ Georgina straightened in the seat.

The officer banged on the roof of the car to see them off. Her
heart began to beat rapidly as she engaged first and pulled jerkily
away. She looked in the rear view, waiting to be stopped but as she
pulled away she realised that they had made it onto the Island.
Leroy waited for a minute before peering out from the rear foot
well. ‘Phew that was a close thing, lucky you knew his girlfriend.’
He sat up and moved on to the back seat, stretching his stiffened
legs as he moved.

‘I have no idea who he was talking about.’ Georgina began to
laugh. ‘I know it’s not very PC, but I played the stereotype
game.’

‘What?’

‘Her name, Julie Cardonez. I just described a typical Latin
American girl, nothing specific but as I described rudimentary,
albeit stereotypical, features. His mind was filling in the blanks.
It's a psychological test that is used on schizophrenics to gauge
reaction to short term memory loss syndrome. That mixed with the
fact that it's raining like the end of the world and that he was
cold, wet, and probably had a 'boner' from looking at my breasts. I
dare say that it has been the most entertainment he's had all
evening.’

Leroy laughed. ‘You are a cruel lady.’

Georgina thought ‘I'm a desperate lady.’ but remained silent.
She stared ahead at the relentless torrent that showed no sign of
abating. Rivulets were cascading along the gutters, filling the
sewerage system and beginning to flow back on itself, but this time
returning with an unsavoury cargo from deep beneath the
road.

‘104 Headbridge.’ Leroy said out of the blue. Georgina
turned.

‘What?’

‘104 Headbridge.’ He stated. ‘It should mean
something.’

Georgina turned sharply to the right, any glow from florescent
street lighting now disappearing to the total blackness of dead
country. The road became a little rougher. Georgina switched on the
headlights to full beam, though the effect barely dented the opaque
concentrate of night. The glimmer from the clock mounted in the
facia of the car ticked on as another quarter hour sank away to its
shameful retreat.

‘Thirty minutes.’

‘Yeah that's if this motherfucker’s gonna keep his word. Why
should he care about clocks, he's a psycho.’

Georgina fumbled inside her coat and propelled a cell phone at
Leroy, who caught it instinctively. ‘Call Narla, make sure Harley
is logged on to the DeathCam site.’
‘Oh, very educational.’

‘No time to fuck about Leroy, we need to know if he’s back on
air.’

His fingers were already scrolling through the phones address
book ready to press the autodial.

‘I know…I know.’

Narla remained at the window watching the rain streak down the
glass pane. The shrill from the phone nearly caused her to lose her
reasoning.

‘Jesus.’ She pounced on the phone, eager to silence its
intrusive cry. ‘Yes…She's upstairs.’ She placed the handset
carefully on the glass-topped table. She ran through the lounge and
stopped at the foot of the stairs, where she called up to
Harley.

‘Harley?’

She waited, knowing that her daughter would be sitting on the
bed with her iPod on, listening to some obscene gangsta rapper or
erasing brain cells playing for hours on her
Playstation.

‘HARLEY?’ She shouted this time, before setting foot on the
first step and begrudgingly deciding that she would have to walk
the whole flight. As she reached the top, the door to Harley's
bedroom opened. Narla was sure that this was a little trick Harley
done just to get under her skin.

Harley had the iPod on. ‘You call?’

‘The phone Harley, pick up the phone.’ Narla exaggerated the
movement of her mouth as though trying to communicate with a deaf
person. Harley nodded. ‘No need to shout.’ She smiled knowing this
really grated, but Narla was still young enough to know that this
was all part of the game. Harley pulled off the headset and the
music blasted from the tiny speakers. ‘Who is it?’

‘Detective LaPortiere said he needs some information.’ Narla
waited by the door.

Harley sighed as though the very act of having to impart even
more information was too much like hard work. She half-closed the
door to her bedroom. Narla stepped closer, the creaking floorboard
on the landing ratting on her.

‘You may as well come in rather than hover outside being
surreptitious.’

‘Surreptitious.’ Narla blushed. Narla entered and sat on the
edge of the bed.

Harley placed the phone to her ear.

‘Uh-huh…yeah…hang on.’ She leaned forward and flicked the
mouse that was sitting idle on her worktop. The screensaver on the
computer changed to the familiar bar of her Internet browser and
below that the live feed to Jo-Lynn Montoya.

He looked at his watch, twenty-five minutes until eight
o'clock. Twenty-five minutes until Showtime. Fortune positioned the
tiny camera for optimum view and moved the harsh halogen lamp that
was now beaming directly into Jo-Lynn's face. In the past half hour
the water level had risen by six inches, maybe more. The lead from
the lamp stretched upwards and disappeared into the darkness above,
maybe into a light socket, it was difficult to tell from where
Jo-Lynn was sitting. She felt relief when he dragged Rick from the
water and dumped his body unceremoniously on the decking. Rick
hadn’t moved since and she had no way of knowing if he was dead or
alive. If what Fortune had told her was true maybe it no longer
mattered.

Occasionally she caught glimpses of Prentice Fortune as he
fiddled with the lights and the camera. Everything had to be
perfect but she could sense his frustration at the rising water
level. This is not how it was supposed to end; this was a chink in
his plan that he never catered for. Jo-Lynn tried to move her legs.
She knew he used duck tape to strap her to either leg of the chair.
She used all her might and anger and pulled and stretched the tape
binding her legs. The water must be having an effect on the glue,
she reasoned to herself. She tried pulling her hands but they
seemed more firmly secured to the back of the chair and remained
dry. She gave another effort, this time concentrating on her left
leg which she thought had a little give, and sure enough her ankle
moved. Jo-Lynn moved to her right leg and again strained hard
against the grey tape.

A staircase waited at the bottom of the long, narrow hall. It
waited for Ray, beckoning him and appeared to be the only way out.
He stopped when he reached the landing newel post and gripped
tightly onto the rail, then leaned forward craning his neck so he
could see and listen. Silence.

‘You know what? I can't wait.’ Fortune pulled the knife from
its protective leather sheath. ‘Five minutes, ten minutes who
really cares? They’re all out there, watching this live on their
little TV’s and computers anyway.’

Panic filtered through Jo-Lynn's numbed senses. This was it.
She strained with all her might against the loosened tape on her
leg. She knew something would have to snap either the tape or her
leg. At the moment though she wasn't taking bets as to which. She
could feel the edge of the tape piercing her skin, but it no longer
mattered. Nothing mattered anymore; nothing, except survival. As
Prentice Fortune approached, she began screaming and shifting
violently on the chair. Cold malice spread through his features.
She knew he was enjoying himself. He waded through the silt water,
his trousers clung obscenely to him; it was obvious he was enjoying
it on more than one level.

Snap! Her foot come free. Just one foot. He drew nearer but
not within striking distance. Jo-Lynn wanted to be sure to hurt
him, even if it was to be the last thing that she would do. She
wanted the satisfaction of knowing that she at least caused him
pain.

And then he was upon her. So close she could feel the heat
from his body.

He pressed the knife tip to her throat. ‘Smile…you're
dead.’

Jo-Lynn looked into the dead eyes that were so prominent
through the mask, it was as though she was looking at a shark about
to attack. The tip of the blade pierced her neck and slowly began
to enter her. Knowing that she had less than a second to make her
move, Jo-Lynn pulled her leg back and with all the force she could
muster and raised her knee deep into his groin. The action sending
her backwards into the water and him falling like a stone in the
opposite direction. The knife flew from his hand as he made an
involuntary reaction against the pain. He screamed as he rolled
over in agony taking in mouthfuls of brown water. As he fought to
regain his composure he yelled. ‘You're gonna die.’ But before he
barely finished speaking, a siren buzzed through a speaker high on
the far wall. Prentice Fortune looked up at it.

‘NO…No, no, not now.’ Fortune held his head with both hands
trying to shut out the noise and more importantly the meaning of
the noise.

Jo-Lynn tried to roll on to her front. Her hands and feet now
trying to thrash wildly as the air slowly began to force its way
from her lungs. She felt him rush past her, the movement, sending
currents toward her face. Her ears detected the faint sound of a
siren. She knew she needed to move to the platform at the bottom of
the stairs and somehow get her head above water. She pushed heavily
on her free leg, forcing herself upright through the water.
Jo-Lynn's head emerged and she grasped the fetid air, inhaling it
into her lungs as though it were nectar. She balanced precariously
and scanned the room but there was no sign of him. Now desperation
flooded her as surely as the water in room she was in. This really
was her last chance, if she had to break her arm to free herself
form the binding attaching her to the chair she would, she was that
determined. She pulled and stretched and pulled and stretched and
shook violently, wriggling and forcing the tape to give. As she
pulled tiny speckles of blood began to break through the surface of
her skin around the binding but the tape had to give. She screamed
in anger and frustration, cursing the tape, cursing her situation
and swearing at her lack of strength. Jo-Lynn lowered her head and
began to gnaw at the tape, her teeth biting ravenously, hardly
caring if she was eating her own flesh; now the only thing that
mattered was survival. A tiny strand of tape pulled free and
suddenly she had something to make purchase with, her teeth
attacked again; all the time the water continued to rise. The slow
trickle through the inlet was now a continuous flow. In the last
quarter hour the level had risen over three inches. Jo-Lynn pulled,
then pulled again. Then she stretched her arm as hard as she could,
hoping to break the bondage before setting to it with her teeth
once more. Another effort, more tape spat from her mouth into the
filthy brown water and then finally her arm burst free. Within
seconds she had freed her other arm then her leg and was collapsing
head first in to the water, exhausted by the sheer effort. As
Jo-Lynn hit the water's surface she remembered the
knife.

‘Go girl, go.’ Maria Codez sat on the edge of her chair
watching events unfold. The whole office sat in stunned silence. No
one had wanted to go home. The emotions in the office were beyond
anything that they had experienced before. Codez was rooted to the
spot, she didn’t want to blink but her contact lenses kept drying
out and reluctantly her eyes batted for the briefest of
milliseconds. She was almost tempted to ask if she had missed
anything. As Jo-Lynn freed herself, the whole office erupted,
everyone in Sagem Carter cheered.