Shane was speechless for once. On any normal day, he would know what to say to appease her, his special ability, not that he had ever been caught cheating on her before. “All right, I won’t touch you. It might not be any consolation, but I didn’t do anything with her. We kissed, that’s all.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“A bit, maybe. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you, George.” He tried holding her again, but she bucked him off. “I’m going to get changed, give you some time. Then I’ll pop next door, see if they have power. I’ll phone the police from there.”
Upstairs in the bedroom, he stripped off, used a towel to dry his soaked skin and found a newly washed pair of khaki shorts and freshly ironed vest.
Refreshed, he looked down at the garden.
Amelia’s dead eyes flashed before him. Shane wondered what had happened to Kereama. And what of Isla and Oliver? Had they suffered the same fate? He felt guilty for not listening to Georgina earlier. Those texts had changed, far too well-written for Amelia and Isla; they wrote in text format. He should have listened to Georgina, he thought, kicking himself.
After a good half hour of torturing himself, he wandered back downstairs to find her still staring out of the window. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you about the girls.” Nothing. “I should’ve been more supportive. You were right about their texts.”
Georgina whizzed round. “And it only took a photo of Amelia to…” She turned back round and sobbed. “It’s not fair! Ames didn’t do anything to him. Why? Why her? What did she ever do to that… That bastard?”
Stood behind his girlfriend, Shane went to touch her, but thought again. “We’ll be all right, baby, I promise,” he said, attempting to reassure her. He wanted to hold her, to cradle her in his arms and tell her everything would work out.
“And when we do, we’ll talk about us.”
He was encouraged that she still talked about them in terms of us. Shane didn’t want to hex the situation by saying something stupid. “I’ll do anything you want to make it up to you,” he said, the hiss of the rain against the window competing with him. “If you need some space, I can go stay with some mates. Literally anything you want me to do, I’ll do my best. Only, please, don’t throw us away.”
“Throw us away?” She turned to him. “You did that the minute you kissed that girl. What is it, Shane, huh? Am I not enough for you? You guys think unless you’re fucking girls left, right and centre, you’re missing out? You make me sick. I can’t even look at you.”
The way she said she couldn’t look at him cut deep. Georgina meant every word. But of course she did, he told himself, she’d only just found out he had cheated on her. Trusting him again would take time. He would do everything in his power to win her back. “I’ll leave you alone.” His voice was dejected, small. “I am sorry!”
Shane went to walk away, reached the staircase and turned back. He couldn’t leave her now, not with the psycho Brit out there. If he left her to mull it over, she might see sense and ditch him. Georgina deserved a decent, honest guy. But he couldn’t let her go; he didn’t want to. “I’ll be right here,” he said, going to sit on the sofa.
“I thought you said… Look out!” Her eyes grew large, fearful.
Without hesitation, he turned to find the pom in front of him, those thin, ugly lips enjoying themselves. The shock of seeing him close up made Shane freeze for a moment. Elf Man was in his house. How? His brain fired questions at him.
Something kicked him in the belly, knocking the wind out of him.
Georgina screamed.
“You thought you were lucky last time, didn’t you?” Elf Man growled. “Not so lucky now, huh, tough guy?” His grin widened.
Shane glanced down, a handle sticking out of his stomach. His blood trickled over the Brit’s fingers.
The dull pain turned into a searing stabbing pain, as the pom yanked the blade up, tearing through his flesh and intestines until it couldn’t go any further.
Shane couldn’t scream; he couldn’t make a sound, other than to groan.
Feeling his life drifting away, an inner rage made him grab his attacker by his throat with his good hand and force him backwards until his quarry hit a wall with a deep thud.
Shane put everything he had into strangling the Brit, before he attacked Georgina.
He dug his thumbs into Elf Man’s larynx as hard as his dying hands could muster. “Die, you fucking bastard.” The room spun.
Another surge of pain racked his body, as the pom yanked the blade out.
Bleeding, Shane’s life force soaking into the carpet, with each passing second he came closer to death.
The Brit’s face turned purple, but not purple enough. Shane wanted, needed, to stare into the pom’s dead eyes before he left Georgina alone. With all the energy he could muster, he clung to Elf Man’s throat, squeezing the life from him… Until his hands started shaking.
Another stabbing pain enveloped him.
“Please, no!” Georgina shouted. “Stop! You’re killing him.”
Three more stabs from Elf Man forced Shane to give up, his hands not strong enough to continue. His legs buckled beneath him.
Lying on his back, blood pouring out of his once-toned abdomen, Shane stared up at Elf Man’s recovering face. Shane was cold, shivering. He tried to call out to Georgina, who stood with tears cascading down her cheeks.
Catching his breath, Elf Man sat on him.
Shane tried to shy away from the serrated blade against his throat. Then, Elf Man smiled down at him and yanked the knife to his right, the teeth of the knife tearing through Shane’s flesh. He glanced over at Georgina, his love, one last time, clutching his neck, attempting in vain to stem the bleeding.
So beautiful. Georgina was his greatest victory. Forget football, forget all sporting competitions, skydiving, everything. She was his life. He took one arm away from his neck and reached out for her. “I love you.” The blood in his mouth gargled his words.
45
Fear paralysing her, Georgina reached out for Shane’s hand, wanting to speak to him, wanting to tell him she loved him. His white vest red, blood pooled around him.
She couldn’t take her eyes away from him. He stared up at her, his arm outstretched, until it went limp. His whole body relaxed, his eyes motionless. “Shane!” she said, her voice tiny. “Speak to me, baby.”
With no time to mourn, her attention moved to Elf Man, who looked up at her with such evil intent, she knew she was in this for her life. “No, get away from me.” Her feet were able to move again.
The Brit rose from Shane’s dead body holding the blood-soaked knife, his clothes sodden. He took a step forward, which she matched back. “This is all for you, my love. Everything I’ve done is for you.”
Between her and Elf Man sat the coffee table. Shane’s pistol perched on top piqued her attention. Georgina tried not to give its existence away. The Brit hadn’t seen it. Every part of her wanted to lunge.
“Don’t get any ideas,” he said, holding out the knife.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, instead of acting on her impulses.
“I love you, George. Don’t you see that? Out of all your friends and family, I’m the one who really loves you. Shane didn’t; I caught him cheating on you, and I’ve only been here for a week or so. Imagine how many bitches he’s slept with while you were together.”
Georgina swallowed. “Shut up! Don’t you talk about him!”
“And that bitch, Amelia.” He took another step closer. “She was never your friend. She wanted you to fail. She never supported your surfing, not like I did. Oh, yeah, I watch you every chance I get. When you wiped out mid-tournament, I watched you getting resuscitated, and it was the most intense experience of my life, and most joyous when you coughed and spluttered your way back to me. But Amelia didn’t feel that. To her, you were her competition. She didn’t love you.”
Georgina took another step back.
<
br /> “Aren’t you going to thank me?” He switched hands with the blade.
Not wanting to dignify his question, she glared down at the gun and made a move, lunging at the table.
“I don’t think so.” Elf Man struck her cheek with the handle of the knife, making her fall. “I told you not to go for it, didn’t I? Didn’t I warn you?”
Lying on her back, Georgina rubbed her cheek. “Ow, that really hurt.”
She felt exposed, wearing only a pair of knickers and a long T-shirt.
The way he appraised her made her skin crawl. And the video he took of her sleeping, the way he groaned while the camera shook in his hand.
The panic in his eyes surprised her. When Elf Man went down on all fours and reached for her cheek, he apologised to her, begging for her forgiveness. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to. I’ll never hurt you.”
Georgina flinched at his touch; she didn’t want him anywhere near her. He was insistent, leaning over her and cupping his palm over her cheek. “Leave me alone!” She crawled back as far as she could, until she leaned against an armchair. “Don’t touch me!” Panic set in when he ignored her pleas.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you,” he said, his eyes sorrowful. “Forgive me? It won’t happen again, look.” He picked up the pistol. “I’ll hold on to it for you. How about that?” He stuffed the gun in his shorts, in the small of his back. “Gone. I hate guns, don’t you?”
Thinking she had to be smart, Georgina looked up at him. “I was going to ask you to destroy it.” Mad at herself for being too slow, she couldn’t think of anything else to say. “I hate them too.”
On his knees, Elf Man crawled towards her. “Oh, you don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” he said, sitting down in front of her, the knife in his hand still dripping Shane’s blood over the carpet. “I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you on Chatter, can you believe that? I knew we were destined to meet, destined to be together.”
Georgina realised he meant every word. The Brit wouldn’t hurt her; he worshipped her. The knife close, too close for her liking, she had to lead him away from it. “I believe you, Elf Man.”
“Danny,” he corrected. “Please, call me Danny.”
“All right, Danny. I believe you. I didn’t see it before, but I see it so clearly now.” She reached out for his blade. “Why don’t you put that knife down? You don’t need it, it’s just you and me here.”
Feeling nauseous, the thought of touching him repellent, she reached out a little further, hoping he would hand the blade over to her. “Please? For me? Put the knife down and we’ll talk. You can tell me all about yourself, and I’ll tell you things about me that you didn’t know.”
Elf Man relaxed, the blade in his hand dropping to the floor. “You’re right. I don’t need this.”
Instead of handing her the knife, he placed it behind him. Georgina’s hope dashed, she kept the forced smile on, even when Shane’s bloody body made her want to cry. She couldn’t; she had to be strong. “That’s better.” She held eye contact with her captor, keeping him calm. “I’m thirsty, Danny, are you?”
“Yeah, I could use a drink.”
“I’ll go and make us one.” Georgina went to stand, until Elf Man put his hand on her shoulder and pushed down hard, helping himself up.
“I’ll make them.” He smiled at her with those horrible lips. “I need to practise making my queen drinks. What would you like, my love?”
Not listening, Georgina kept her eye on the knife behind his foot. When he asked for a second time, she said she would love a glass of wine. In the fridge, she told him, as he stepped away.
The knife sat between them.
“Going now,” said Elf Man, making to move.
Seizing her moment, Georgina lunged for the blade. It was within her reach, when Elf Man’s trainer came crashing down on it. With her hand pinned to the carpet, she looked up and saw the fury in his eyes. “You bastard, you killed him. You killed my Shane.” The pain in her hand grew.
Elf Man grabbed her hair, pulled her up and slapped her face so hard her lip bled.
“No! You mustn’t do that, my queen. He’s dead because he didn’t love you, not the way I do. He had no honour. A queen like you deserves the most honourable man.”
“You’re fucking crazy,” she screamed, trying to free her hand.
Elf Man released it and took a step back, reaching behind him and pulling out the pistol. He pointed it at her head, leaving the knife between them. “Now that wasn’t very nice. I never played the insanity card in court, not once, even though my lawyer suggested I should. I could’ve been sent to a hospital, instead of prison, but I chose to be honourable. I took my punishment, and now I’m a free man. Do you understand? I’m the most honourable man you’ll ever meet. Shane didn’t deserve you, but I do.”
Georgina, angry at the sight of Shane’s bloody corpse, went for the knife and grabbed it when Elf Man swung the pistol at her, smashing the butt of the handle on the top of her head.
A foot on her back pinned her to the floor. “That was stupid, my love.”
His hand grabbed her hair, as he yanked and pulled her into the middle of the living room, away from the knife, her lifeline. She screamed in pain, using her legs to keep him from tugging out a clump of her hair. “You’re hurting me!”
Before she knew it, she lay on her belly again, her hands behind her back. He grabbed them and she realised he was tying her up with cable ties. “No, please, I’ll be good, I promise.”
“I wanted this to be simple.” He helped her to her feet. “I wanted you to fall in love with me on first sight, like you see in the movies. Like how I fell in love with you, from the second I saw your photo.” He pushed her towards the stairs. “But I was naïve to think your love would be instant. It will take time and I have to earn yours, and prove my own to you.”
He held her all the way downstairs, never letting go. Tied up, there was nothing she could do except run. At the patio door, she waited for Elf Man to slide it across before she shook him off and ran into the pouring rain.
“Come back, my queen!” Elf Man shouted. “Where do you think you can go?”
Georgina sprinted towards the swimming pool, her bare feet splashing the surface water on the lawn. If she could run to the back fence… Then what?
Running along the pool, she heard a gunshot from behind her, slipped and fell in the water. Thunder boomed above her. She hoped one of her neighbours noticed the shot, then realised the hiss of the rain would have drowned the noise out.
Elf Man grabbed her and pulled her out of the water inside thirty seconds.
Stood in front of him, she braced for her punishment, which came in the form of a backhander. With her split lip and swollen cheek, she walked with him towards the garage. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere no one will find us.” He opened the garage door and waited for her to step inside. “Oh, and you’re driving. If you get any funny ideas, I’ll have this here gun trained on you, my queen. I don’t want to hurt you, right? So, please don’t force my hand.”
Soaked, she jumped into the driver’s seat of her Jeep and told him she didn’t have the keys, that she would go back inside and fetch them.
Elf Man pulled them out of his shorts. “Always be prepared,” he said, handing them to her, his pistol aimed at her side.
46
“The passenger manifest’s come through,” Packard said, over the partition separating them.
Coates walked around to his partner’s desk and stood behind him. “And they come with passport photo ID?” He waited for Packard to bring up the first passenger on board the flight shown in Elfman’s picture on Chatter. Packard didn’t answer.
“Absolutely.” A picture of the passport appeared on the screen. “Qatar Airways uses a mixture of Airbus A350-1000 and Boeing 777s to Australia. The most passengers they can carry is four hundred and ten, so it shouldn’t take too long to find Peebles, or Elfman, or whatever th
e hell his name is on here.”
“Well, we know he’s not going by either, don’t we!” Coates knew the passport in Danny Elfman’s name was safely stored in a plastic bag in evidence. “At least if we find out his fake passport name we’ll have something to give the New South Wales police.”
“Shoot! This is taking ages to switch between passports,” Packard said, clicking on his mouse. “You might as well take a seat, sir. This is going to take a while. I have four hundred and nine left to go, and I’ll bet you he won’t appear until the end, if he appears at all.”
“Oh, he’s on the list.” Coates walked back to his own desk. “I’ll put money on it. He paid four grand for a first class ticket. And I don’t think he’ll miss his chance to meet Miss Shaw, do you?” At his desk, he went back to his own monitor.
“I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to meet Georgina Shaw.” Packard’s voice had a tone. “She’s stunning.”
Having to agree with his junior partner, Coates had Shaw’s Chatter account up on the screen. Even off duty, he would pull her photos up and scroll through them. She was beautiful, very easy on the eye, as his dad would have said if he were alive. And a talented surfer. “Right, time to speak to Chatter’s CEO.”
“Good luck with that, sir. He’s tougher to contact than Mark Zuckerberg. I can do that for you, if you want? I know you’re not keen on social media.”
“I’m learning, thanks. No, you carry on with the manifest.” Now Coates had the Chatter app on his phone, he could appreciate what the fuss was about.
Aimed at young, beautiful people predominantly, or artists, authors, actors and such, Coates considered Chatter a marketing tool, a way of presenting the account holder in a more human way. And it worked. Glancing at one photo of Shaw, he noted that she mentioned three companies on one entry alone: a surfboard manufacturer, a clothing label, and a photographer.
That picture had half a million likes, and two thousand comments, most of which were followers telling her how beautiful she was. According to one source he read, influencers with a huge following could charge vast amounts of money just for mentioning a company name. What a different world he lived in now.
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