THE MAN WHO HUNTED HIMSELF

by Lex Lander

  ‘Grrr.’ I made claws of my fingers and gently raked them across the smooth mound of her buttock. She squirmed, pleasure not pain.

  Talking about my history made me uncomfortable, especially the evidence of violence. Our love gave her the right to know, but that didn’t make it any easier. Now she was tracing her fingertips down my left leg. She came to the calf, lingered there, stroking.

  ‘What’s this one?’

  This one was a gift from Carvalho. Slave trader. In a gun duel at long range in Mozambique he lost, but not before winging me. Fortunately, he was firing a small calibre weapon and the round passed clean through, leaving only tiny entry and exit scars.

  I trotted out an edited version. She made no comment but left off searching. Maybe it was making her feel sick. She doused the lights and lay quietly. Free of the distraction of her touch, my thoughts drifted towards the coming day.

  ‘They’ll be expecting us, you know that.’

  ‘Who?’ Maura’s mind had obviously been elsewhere. ‘Carl and his band of goons, you mean?’

  ‘That’s who I mean. Gratrix will have reported I’m here.’

  ‘Do you think they’ll move Lindy?’

  I had considered that possibility.

  ‘Carl will know we’re together in this. Think about it, why would I be in San Luis if not for you?’

  ‘Oh, God, yes.’ Her hand on my arm tightened its grip.

  ‘Two ways this could shake out. Either Lindy’s been moved, or they’ll keep her there and prepare a reception committee.’

  The element of surprise I had hoped for had been removed when Gratrix came on the scene.

  ‘I’m scared,’ Maura said. ‘Not for me, for Lindy.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ I pummelled my brain without mercy. ‘They’ll try to avoid moving her, is my guess. For all they know we could be waiting to hijack her on the road. Or we could follow them to the new location, which might be less secure. All sorts of reasons why it makes more sense to stay put and batten down the hatches.’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ Maura was ready to be convinced.

  ‘We need to buy some time by muddying the waters, using Richard as a decoy.’

  ‘Decoy?’ she echoed.

  I explained. ‘You call him and send him off to Mexico City. Even if he doesn’t tell Carl where he’s going, it can easily be confirmed, and Carl’s bound to do it. You and I, my love, will fly from here as if we were going to Mexico too. Make sure the Tower staff know about it, so if Gratrix or Carl make enquiries they’ll be told that you’re en route for Mexico, same as Richard. I’ll be with you.’

  Maura sat up, and twisted round to look down at me. In the feeble light percolating the thin drapes I could make out her right shoulder and breast, and the side of her face.

  ‘What good will that do, the three of us in Mexico City?’

  ‘You and I won’t be, you dope. We’ll land at the nearest airfield outside San Luis air space, and drive back here leaving no trace. If we leave early enough we could be back by mid-day.’

  ‘What about Richard? Stuck in Mexico City.’

  I exhaled my exasperation. ‘Nothing about Richard. It’s a diversionary tactic, that’s all. Aside from that, you can’t leave your plane here while we’re rescuing Belinda. If they found it – which they would – they might sabotage it.’

  She nodded agitatedly. ‘Yes, they’re sure to.’

  Outside in the parking lot an engine cranked and fired noisily. An early riser on his travels. The sound rose, levelled off, then faded as the vehicle turned into the road and took off for wherever it was bound.

  The great gamble was whether or not Belinda was still at the Avila Beach house. If not, my fine schemes were already out of date. Nothing to lose though, by going in, guns blazing.

  Except our lives, of course. Or my life, singular.

  ‘You’ll stay with the car, right?’ I made it a statement. If necessary, I would make it an order. She might even obey, as in the old marriage vows.

  ‘No, not right! I’m in this right alongside you. She’s my daughter, for God’s sake.’

  ‘That’s why you stay out of it. Come with me, you might get killed. What use will you be to Belinda then?’

  In the dark, I could tell she was staring at me. The whites of her eyes were showing.

  ‘Think about it, love,’ I said gently. ‘You have to stay safe, no matter what. In any case ...’

  ‘In any case what?’

  ‘I function better alone. I’m used to it. No one else to worry about.’

  Silence, then the indistinct sound of weeping.

  ‘It’s not right, darling. She’s my daughter. She’s nothing to you.’

  I clasped her to me. Her cheek came into contact with my shoulder and I felt the dew of her tears.

  ‘You’re so wrong. She’s your daughter, so she’s everything to me.’

  Our decoy plan got off to a good start. We were at San Luis airport before 7am. Maura made a point of informing as many people in the Tower as would listen, that we were off to Mexico City. A weather report predicted tricky conditions south of the border, but as we weren’t going that far we could afford to shrug it off. By 7.25 we were airborne. Twenty minutes on, as we left San Luis airspace and entered Santa Barbara’s, Maura contacted their Tower and announced that she was diverting there to deal with a business emergency.

  Diversions were a regular event for private aircraft, she had assured me. She was proved right when the Tower responded with indifference, asking her to report when she had visual of the airport. We were instructed to land on Runway 25.

  ‘You see, Doubting Thomas,’ she said, nudging my ribs.

  ‘You’re too good looking to be so smart.’

  Her landing was impeccable. Once we had parked and secured the Seneca, we headed for the Hertz Rental office. Hertz, being big and bossy, don’t care for cash payments, so Maura used her AmEx. It would leave a paper trail, but if it ever surfaced, it would be too late to make any difference.

  Our Chrysler 300 rental gobbled up the fifty miles back to San Luis Obispo. We recovered the Audi and left the Chrysler in its place.

  Now, if anyone tried to trace our movements they would learn that we left San Luis airport bound for Mexico City, same destination as Richard. Also the same place where I had been flown when I was evicted from Las Vegas. If Carl Heider discovered that Maura had originally flown to San Luis and not Mexico City as she claimed, but was now on her way there, the confusion and doubt would be well sown. All a little obvious? Even so, it would still prove that she and I had left San Luis, which ought to settle their fears.

  His next step would be to call the house to confirm that Belinda was still there. That being the case, he might deduce that Maura had flown to San Luis to collect me, and that we were giving up on Belinda, at least for the time being. Might. Little word, big implications.

  With any luck, he might relax his guard. Another might. I wasn’t counting on any of it.

  TWENTY-TWO

  The Heider house in Avila Beach was right where I had left it. To get there I retraced my route overland. If they were expecting me, they would have lookouts posted on the Cherry Canyon road where it branched off from the coast road, also, if they were playing it ultra-cautious, at the fork where their private road started. Approaching from the opposite direction and cutting across country before we came in visual range of the fork, would make it easier to sneak up on them unobserved.

  As we descended the incline towards Wild Cherry Canyon road, Maura squeezed my arm hard.

  ‘Stop, Drew! I’m beginning to get a bad feeling about this. Can’t we wait?’

  ‘Wait?’ I exploded. ‘That’s the last thing we can do, Maura.’ I pulled up anyway. We needed to deal with her doubts before encroaching on enemy territory. ‘There’s already a risk, admittedly small, that Belinda’s been moved. The longer we wait the greater that risk. I have to go in now, hit them hard as I can, before they find out we’re still around. If that happen
s, she’ll be gone.’

  I didn’t want to say she might be gone for good. It would crucify her. I needed her focused and functioning, the same as she functioned when she was flying: cool, competent, and in control.

  ‘Yes ... yes, I know you’re right. Even so... ’ Concern for Belinda was undermining her resolve. It could even be that her faith in my ability to win through was wavering.

  ‘Stick with it, love. This will only work if we see it through. Even if they’re expecting me, we’ll be fighting indoors. Their numerical advantage will be halved or better. And there’s always a chance of friendly fire.’

  ‘Friendly fire?’

  ‘Of them shooting each other.’

  Her face brightened.

  ‘Yes, I see. But I don’t want anyone to get killed. Especially by you.’

  I groaned. ‘Decide on your priorities. Belinda back where she belongs, or a gang of hoodlums living to a ripe old age.’

  That raised a listless smile.

  ‘When you put it like that ...’

  I didn’t mention that Belinda would also be exposed to indiscriminate friendly bullets. Nothing to be gained by frightening her. For my part, I would discipline myself to shoot at head and shoulders height, which should be enough to keep her out of the line of my fire. It was to be hoped the protection squad were similarly scrupulous.

  I shifted back into drive and we rumbled on, possibly in the exact tyre tracks I had made travelling over the hill two days before. At the highest point, while we were still concealed from the house by shrubbery, I braked to a standstill.

  ‘This is as close as we go before nightfall,’ I announced, slinging my binoculars around my neck. ‘Come on, let’s take a look at the place.’

  ‘Why didn’t we wait until dark before setting off?’ Maura asked me, as we met around the front of the Audi.

  ‘Couple of reasons. Most of all to avoid travelling more than necessary off road in the dark. An accident would be inconvenient. Secondly, I want to see any developments, arrivals, departures, in case they decide to move Belinda. No use my going in there if she’s been taken away.’

  ‘I understand.’ She looked worried again at the suggestion that Belinda might be gone after all.

  ‘Keep your head down,’ I warned her. ‘They might be watching the hillsides.’

  The sun had returned but generated little heat. Up high an airliner, invisible but for its vapour trails, traversed the uninterrupted blue. A breeze was coming off the ocean, ruffling the tufts of wiry grass and rustling the shrubbery. Apart from the occasional bird call, signs of life were absent. Maura huddled inside her short leather coat, collar up, hands in pockets, cheeks pink.

  ‘The house is over there,’ I said, pointing. It was a quarter mile away, if that. ‘Behind that line of trees. Do you see how they form a screen close to the building? That’s their back yard. The trees’ll hide me until I get to within about fifty yards of the back door.’

  She didn’t speak. The whole business was stressing her out. Behind me, I heard the puff of her inhaler: once, a pause, twice.

  I lifted the binoculars to my eyes. ‘You okay?’

  ‘As I’ll ever be, with the two people who matter most to me in danger.’

  No consolation I could offer would lessen her burden, so I kept my mouth shut. An SUV was travelling along Wild Cherry Canyon road, going inland. Through the glasses, I could pick out the male driver and female passenger. They carried on towards the mountains and eventually were cut off by the bend in the road, the only trace of their passing a pennant of dust, quick to disperse.

  I handed Maura the binoculars. ‘Take a look. I can’t see any patrols, so they must all be inside.’

  Her smile was wan as she took the glasses and focused them on the house.

  It was coming up to 4pm. I would make my move at dusk, as soon as the lights came on in the house.

  ‘Something’s happening.’ Maura said.

  I strained to see without the glasses. I could just about make out two individuals by the corner of the building.

  ‘It’s Angelina,’ Maura reported. ‘She has a bike. It looks as if she’s going for a ride. Here, you look.’

  She handed the binoculars to me. It was Carl Heider’s over-sexed minx of a daughter all right. She was dressed in snug-fitting bike shorts, with a track jacket. White socks and sneakers completed the ensemble. Her long platinum hair was caught in a bunch at the back. Facing her was Justine. Between them a mountain bike.

  ‘Looks like she’s having a row with Justine,’ I said.

  ‘I guess Justine won’t want her going out on her bike right now. They’re probably being a bit paranoid about you and me.’

  With some justification, considering what we were planning.

  Angelina was strapping on a cyclist helmet. Justine made a last attempt to restrain her, but she shook her mother off, leapt aboard the bike, and started pedalling down the driveway. A last despairing gesture from Justine, then she spun round and signalled to someone I couldn’t see.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Maura asked.

  ‘Angelina is off on her bike, and Mommy is pretty pissed ... Wait a minute. She’s drummed up an escort.’

  The familiar black Jeep came into view, stopping beside Justine. She spoke briefly to the driver, then motioned them to get moving. They set off, after Angelina.

  Maura came up close and hugged my arm. ‘They’ll be worried about her being kidnapped, I expect.’

  ‘Kidnapped?’ I lowered the glasses and stared at her. ‘Shit, yes! That’s it, love. Why didn’t I think of that? We kidnap her and do an exchange for Belinda.’ The simplicity of it! No killing, no housebreaking. Less risk. I took Maura by the shoulders and kissed her hard. ‘You’re a genius. If we can pull it off, we’ll be home dry.’

  Some of my excitement infected her and she nodded frantically.

  ‘Yes, darling, yes. Let’s do it!’

  Angelina and her escort both were screened by trees along the private road, though a dust cloud marked the Jeep’s progress. As the girl reached the point where the private road joined the canyon road, she slowed. Which way would she go? Right towards the ocean, or left towards us. Left would be better. The more remote we were from roads and civilization the lower the chance of interference from some do-gooder.

  She turned left. Very obliging of her. Soon she was setting a cracking pace. As she approached, I could make out her features through the glasses, frowning with concentration, her lips set tight together. Within a minute, she would pass below us.

  The Jeep followed, but not to stop her and turn her back. It maintained a distance of about two hundred yards to the rear, grinding along in low gear.

  ‘In the car,’ I snapped, and Maura was there ahead of me. No way of knowing how far Angelina intended to ride. If she turned back too soon I might not have a chance to get in position. If I started up too soon and she heard it, she might alert the bodyguards.

  ‘How are you going to do it?’ Maura said.

  ‘I’ll drive down as soon as they’re out of sight. Park to the side of the road, like a couple of tourists admiring the view.’

  ‘Or a couple of lovers making out in the back seat,’ Maura said, eyes sparkling with mischief.

  I grinned back at her. ‘Don’t give me ideas.’

  She planted a quick kiss on my cheek. On the canyon road, Angelina had reached the bend and would soon be hidden from view. I fired up the engine, and we edged forward and rolled down the incline, letting gravity do the work. On reaching the road, I made a ninety-degree turn left and positioned the Audi off the asphalt, leaving plenty of space for another vehicle to pass. I left the engine running, ready for the fastest possible getaway.

  ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Round the back.’

  The road was now empty in the direction Angelina had taken. I opened the rear hatch.

  ‘You stand facing into the trunk, rummage around as if you’re hunting for something. When Angelina sees you, she’ll most likely
slow down. When she realises you’re a woman, she’ll be okay.’

  ‘If I’ve got my back to her, how can she be sure I’m a woman?’

  ‘Let your hair down, make it more obvious.’

  She released her chestnut mane from its clip and shook it loose. She was pale with strain, but otherwise as gorgeous as ever. Making out in the back seat would have been a great idea any other day but this one.

  ‘How will you stop Angie?’ she asked. ‘She’s setting a hell of a pace on that bike.’

  ‘I noticed.’ Stopping the girl was arguably the least predictable part of the plan. ‘Would she stop if she recognised you, do you think?’

  ‘In ordinary circumstances, yes, for sure. But if she’s been warned I’m in cahoots with you, she may not. She might even leave the road. Her bike’s built for cross country.’

  I thought fast.

  ‘Okay, this is what we do. It’ll give us two bites of the cherry. I’ll be out of sight, around the front of the car. You keep your back to her until she’s close enough for you to hear her coming. Then you turn around, express surprise, and get her to stop if you can but stay by the car, don’t stand in front of her. If she slows or stops grab her and I’ll be there in a few seconds.’

  ‘And if she carries on?’

  ‘That’ll be my cue to ambush her, push her off the bike. She might collect a few bruises, but that’s a minor consideration. We shove her in the car and tie her up – I mean tape her up.’

  A gust of wind swirled Maura’s hair across her face. She swept it aside,

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting something? The guys in the Jeep aren’t just going to sit there like innocent bystanders.’

  My smile was grim.

  ‘That’s where the shotgun comes in. Five slugs in the front of that Jeep will stop their progress better than a brick wall.’

  Maura’s features contorted with anxiety.

  ‘You ... you aren’t going to shoot them?’

  ‘No. Only the car.’

  Unless they shot at us. If that happened, I would do whatever it took to keep us safe.

  We were still standing by the open hatch. I lifted the lid of the spare wheel compartment and hoisted out a plastic bag. It contained the Ruger, with the sound suppressor fitted. I laid the gun on the trunk platform.