by Jim Reeves
‘You mean lose themselves.’
Braun shrugged, ‘Whatever.’
‘You probably bleed them of every last penny they’ve got.’
‘No one forces them to go,’ said Braun defiantly.
‘What else?’ Joe asked. ‘What was on the CDs?’ He saw the CD case on Braun’s desk and moved slowly around the desk. His aim at Braun never wavered. ‘Switch your PC on. I want so see what’s on the CDs.’
‘It is confidential material,’ said Braun.
‘Better take me into your confidence,’ whispered Joe, nudging Braun behind the ear with the gun.
Braun switched on the PC then fumbled with the CD case. He inserted a CD and the waited while it fired up. Joe blinked in disbelief at the picture of a child that appeared on the screen. ‘What the . . . .’ he gasped.
Braun waited silently while Joe continued to stare at the screen. Joe shouldered him to one side, took charge of the computer mouse and scrolled through a series of photographs on the CD. Joe felt physically sick as he stared at the screen. Beside him, Braun thought he saw a chance to go for the gun while Joe was distracted. He snatched at the drawer and had his hand on the gun before Joe swung his own gun round and hit him hard in the mouth.
Braun fell backwards and lay clutching his face on the floor. Blood poured from his lips. Two of his teeth were broken. Joe took the gun from the drawer and hurled it across the room.
‘You piece of scum,’ he whispered. ‘And you called me a nothing.’ Joe grabbed a handful of Braun’s shirt and pulled him to his feet. ‘Your daughter know about this shit?’
Braun shook his head.
‘Maybe we should fetch her in and show her.’
‘No,’ said Braun. He was trembling. ‘Please no.’
‘You into this crap?’ asked Joe. ‘You get kicks from looking at naked kids?’
‘We satisfy a demand,’ Braun told him. ‘That is all.’
‘What about the children?’
Braun didn’t look at him. ‘If we didn’t do it, somebody else would.’
‘So that makes it all right?’ Braun didn’t answer. Joe looked in disgust at the picture on he screen then raised the gun and fired a bullet to shatter the image forever. It would take a while longer to erase it from his memory. Braun flinched fearfully as pieces of the PC monitor flew across the room.
Joe looked at Braun. ‘You wanted me to die so you could carry on peddling that shit?’ Braun was silent. He had no answer. ‘I would have got on the next plane home and never given you another thought if you’d left me to it,’ Joe said. ‘You set yourself up for a lot of grief when you put me out in that garden to die.’
‘Please,’ Braun looked at him. ‘We can work something out. You have a saying – if you can’t beat them join them. Come and work for me.’
Joe looked at him disbelievingly. ‘I thought you weren’t interested in my shitty little life.’
‘Please,’ said Braun but Joe’s expression told him he was wasting his words.
‘You took some money from my wallet,’ Joe said. ‘I want it back. I’ll need my passport as well.’
Braun moved unsteadily towards an ornate oak cupboard and knelt down. He opened a door to reveal a small safe inside. Joe touched his ear with the gun as he unlocked the safe.
Braun took several passports from the safe and stood up.
‘Let me see,’ Joe said as Braun shuffled through the passports. Joe took the passports and looked at them one by one. ‘What do you do with these?’ he asked.
Braun shrugged. ‘They can be re-used with a new photograph inserted.’
Joe paused and stared hard at one of the passports for several seconds. ‘What happened to these blokes?’
‘Bruno took care of them,’ said Braun quietly.
‘I bet he did,’ muttered Joe.
Joe found his own passport and pushed it into his pocket. He threw the others onto the desk. ‘Now the money you owe me.’
Braun crouched down at the safe again and pulled out a small box. Joe took the box from him and looked inside. There looked to be several hundred Euros.
‘That’ll do,’ Joe said as he took the money. His bag was on the floor across the room he retrieved it and stuffed the money into it. He turned toward Braun, rammed the gun hard into his ribs and gripped his arm.
‘Let go of my arm,’ Braun protested. ‘You’ve got what you want.’
‘Not even half of it,’ Joe whispered softly. ‘We’re going for a ride. Where’re your car keys.’
‘You’re crazy,’ Braun told him.
‘Like never before,’ Joe smiled. ‘Give me the keys.’
‘Bruno will soon be here. You should go while you can.’
‘I intend to.’ He jabbed Braun again with the gun. ‘Keys.’
Braun took the keys from the top drawer of his desk and offered them to Joe. Joe grabbed the keys and they moved towards the door. Joe held the gun to Braun’s head the whole time as he nudged Braun down the hall towards the front door. Joe’s nerves were on a knife edge. In spite of his bravado with Braun, cold fear sliced through his gut. He realised that Bruno or other reinforcements might arrive at any moment. He could handle Braun, no problem. A bunch of trained killers, eager to please the boss, might not be so easy. He would be finished.
They heard Elsa’s muffled voice from behind the broom cupboard door. She must have heard them because she shouted louder and thumped hard on the door. Braun paused by the door and looked at Joe.
‘Keep going,’ Joe told him.
‘Elsa?’ asked Braun.
‘She won’t come to any harm,’ Joe said. ‘Somebody will let her out soon enough.’
‘I need my coat,’ said Braun.
‘Not where you’re going you don’t. Move.’
Braun was trembling visibly and fumbled when opening front door.
‘What’s wrong,’ asked Joe.
‘Are you going to kill me?’ Braun asked fearfully. The arrogance had been replaced by mortal fear.
‘I never killed anybody in my whole life,’ Joe said. ‘I’m a big nothing. A nonentity. Remember?’
‘We can do a deal,’ Braun told him. ‘More money than you ever dreamed of.’
‘No deals,’ Joe said coldly.
‘Tell me what you want,’ Braun pleaded. ‘Anything.’
‘Right now? Nothing you have to offer.’
‘Please,’ pleaded Braun. ‘I have a heart condition.’
‘Move,’ Joe snarled impatiently. ‘I don’t have a lot of time.’ He held the gun inches from Braun’s head.
Braun turned and finally opened the door. A shaft of cold air hit them. Joe pushed Braun outside and followed. Crisp snow crunched under their feet.
‘At least let me get a coat,’ Braun asked as he struggled to stay on his feet.
Joe pulled the zip fully up on his jacket. It really was ice-cold. He looked at the cars parked outside. The SUV. Probably Elsa’s. Too small and not suitable. The Opel would do the job. But the Mercedes had caught his eye when he arrived.
‘Over there.’ Joe pushed Braun towards the Mercedes. Braun clasped his arms around himself and shivered violently as they slipped and slithered towards the car.
Joe grabbed Braun by the scruff of the neck and steered him towards the rear end of the car. He studied the keys for a moment then pressed something and a click signalled that the car was unlocked. Still pointing the gun at Braun, Joe bent down and opened the boot, raising the lid fully.
‘Get in,’ he said.
Braun looked like he might protest but Joe’s eyes told him it would be pointless. Braun suddenly glanced past Joe and his expression changed almost imperceptibly. At that same moment Joe heard the crunch of feet on crisp snow. He turned to see Karl behind him. The left side of his face was caked in blood. His ear was a mess. He wore an evil scowl as he swung a huge fist at Joe.
I should have hit the bastard harder Joe groaned.
The millisecond that passed as Joe had that thought ena
bled him to sway slightly to the left. The fist caught him on the side of his face. Dazing him, but not as badly as a full on blow would have done. He tottered backwards slightly and started to raise the gun but a second punch to his temple rocked him back against the Mercedes. Another punch smacked into his gut. The impact knocked the breath out of him and he dropped the gun. He sank to one knee wheezing as he groped desperately in the snow for the gun. He was aware of Braun letting out a cry of triumph as Karl closed in with an evil grin, dragged him to his feet then grabbed him by the throat. Karl lifted him up clear of the snow and pushed him backwards into the open boot of the car, still squeezing hard on his throat. Joe’s back was arched and his feet were off the ground and kicking thin air. He gripped Karl’s arms and pulled but this was a serious mismatch. He had no chance.
Lights were exploding in his head. His ears were popping. He heard Braun’s excited voice again. ‘Kill him Karl!’ But it sounded strangely distant and fading fast. He could see his assailant’s face inches from his own, smell his breath, feel his spittle. Karl was grinning happily again. Joe felt himself blacking out. His body was shaking violently. His legs were kicking feebly. What little strength he had was slipping away fast. He knew he had only seconds. His attempts to break the grip on his throat were futile. He had no strength in his hands. He let go and went for Karl’s eyes. Karl just laughed as he twisted his head away and maintained his grip. For his final throw of the dice Joe reached down grabbing at Karl’s groin. He found his target and squeezed hard.
Karl’s expression changed to a mixture of surprise, pain and anger. He jerked away and released Joe’s throat but lifted him up by his lapels and tried to head butt him. Joe, still gripping Karl’s groin, ducked away and just took a glancing blow on the side of his head. His feet touched the ground again for the first time in many seconds. He swayed unsteadily as he gulped cold air into his lungs. He let his knees sag, put his head down then straightened his legs sharply with every ounce of strength he could muster. There was a satisfying crack as his head made contact with Karl’s jaw. Something was broken for sure. Karl staggered backwards flailing at the air, trying to stay on his feet. He finally fell backwards in the snow several feet away. He clutched at his face as his legs twitched.
Joe had never head butted anybody before in his life. That wiped the smile off his face, he grinned as he surveyed the results of his handiwork.
Braun had been a spectator during the attack on Joe. Now he realised he was on his own again. He lunged towards the gun lying in the snow. Joe hurled himself forward and hit Braun sideways on. They rolled across the drive grappling. Braun was astride Joe groping for his eyes. Joe bucked and Braun rolled sideways, allowing Joe to scramble into a kneeling position. Braun launched a kick without much power. Joe caught his foot and twisted sending Braun tumbling again. Now Joe was on his feet. Stuff the Queensberry Rules he thought. He launched into Braun kicking angrily and caught him in the gut. Joe kicked, two, three times. Braun was finished coughing and gagging. Whimpering. Joe kicked him hard in the area of the kidneys for good measure.
Picking up the gun, he looked back at Karl. Surprisingly, he was on all fours and trying to get to his feet. Joe walked over and kicked him hard. Karl screamed and doubled up in agony.
Joe looked down at Karl. Aiming the gun at his head. Deciding what to do. He didn’t want to use the gun but he wanted to put Karl out of the game. Stepping gingerly around behind Karl he braced himself then took two quick steps and kicked him hard in the back. Karl gasped harshly. Joe raised the gun high above his head and brought it sharply down hitting Karl hard behind the ear with the butt. Karl was out of the game for quite some time to come.
Joe pushed the gun into his belt as he returned to where Braun was lying near the Mercedes. Braun was a pitiful sight. Crying quietly. Muttering what sounded like some kind of prayer. He offered no resistance when Joe tried to lift him, but he offered no help either. After a struggle Joe had Braun upright in a kind of hug. Joe gasped as the cold air roused his asthma. With a braver opponent, this could have been a risky manoeuvre but Braun, used to having heavies do his fighting, was broken and beaten. He leant dejectedly against Joe for a few seconds. Submissive. Resigned to his fate whatever it might be. He was a heavy man and Joe struggled as he tried to ease him round to the open boot of the car.
Finally, Joe pushed Braun and the upper half of his tipped forward into the boot. Braun sagged at the knees and the lip of the boot dug into his middle. Joe grabbed both legs and tried to hoist them upwards without success. He grabbed Braun’s shoulders and rolled him over. Braun gasped as the lip of the boot bit into his back. Joe shouldered Braun’s legs upwards and then forced them downwards into the boot.
Braun was wet and caked in snow after the struggle, shaking visibly. His white shirt clung damply to him. He whimpered and covered his head with his hands as Joe stood over him aiming the gun for a few seconds.
Joe looked around and saw a snow shovel leaning against a tree at the edge of the drive. He collected the shovel and threw a large scoop of snow into the boot on top of Braun.
‘Enjoy,’ Joe said as he slammed the boot lid. He threw the snow shovel to the ground and walked over to look at Karl. No movement. Then he turned to the SUV and the Opel. Hefting the gun he stared at it for a moment then aimed at the front nearside tyre of the SUV and pulled the trigger. A sharp crack echoed backwards and forwards across the snow covered hills. Joe wasn’t worried. He guessed that not many people would be in too much of a hurry to investigate the goings-on at Braun’s place. He fired a shot into the front nearside tyre of the Opel then ran back to the Mercedes and got into the driving seat. After a brief fumble with the keys he turned the ignition and the engine fired. He put the car into drive, slipped off the brake and fishtailed down the long drive towards the road.
Chapter 28
At the end of the drive Joe swung the car left and down the hill towards the town. He guessed if Bruno did return early, he would come from the opposite direction. He had no wish to say his goodbyes. He could pick up a road sign for Salzburg in the town and be on his way. He heard feeble noises coming from the rear but ignored them. He concentrated on the road ahead.
As he neared the bottom of the hill that approached the town there was a wooded area on his left and houses on the right. He reached a junction with no road signs and guessed on a left turn. It paid off and within a couple of hundred yards he saw a sign for Salzburg.
For the first time in forty-eight hours he relaxed a little. He was more or less in control, for the moment at least. He eased the Mercedes carefully up the slip road leading to the main road to Salzburg. The road had a covering of snow. Watch the speed he told himself. He cruised well within the speed limit. Too slow maybe. A car overtook him with a long blast of a horn so he increased his speed a little. He didn’t want to attract attention. A conversation with the law might prove embarrassing, especially if they decided to look in the boot of the car.
As he drove he continuously glanced right and left at the terrain. There were road signs for places he had never heard of and, pretty soon, a large expanse of water on the right. Still, he was looking for something. He passed several bus stops. All deserted on a freezing cold night.
His plan was to dump the Mercedes and take the bus to Salzburg somewhere along the way but a bus driver would be likely to remember a lone Englishman who got on a bus in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t want to be remembered.
Repeatedly, he slowed down to take a longer look at the landscape to the left. After about twenty minutes of cruising, he finally saw somewhere that might suit. The ground sloped gently down away from the road for maybe twenty metres, ending at dense bushes below a steep rock face on the side of a hill. All he needed now was a suitable bus stop not too far ahead.
Within a mile or so he entered a town called St Gilgen. It was the biggest place he had seen since Eichl. As he rounded a bend he saw houses built fairly densely on the hill to his left and even more to the right
sloping down towards the water. Snow was falling by then but the main road was well lit and a few people were about.
Then he saw a bus station, such as it was. A large concrete bus shelter and parking spaces for several buses. He slowed to a crawl and peered towards the dimly lit bus shelter. There were maybe five or six people inside, hunched up against the cold night.
He accelerated, looking for somewhere to turn around. Half a mile further on he came to a roundabout and swung the Mercedes round in smooth arc back the way he had come. A road sign told him that Salzburg was another thirty kilometres away. He slowed to look at the bus shelter again as he passed. Pretty much as good as he would get, he decided. He exited the town again heading back towards Eichl. He slowed as he neared the sloping ground he had previously located. Traffic was thin but a couple of cars were approaching from the direction of Eichl. He watched and waited until they passed by then swung the Mercedes right into a sharp ninety degree turn that took it just off the road. He switched off the lights and waited. He sat for a while studying the place he had chosen. At the bottom of the slope the dense group of bushes, looked brittle and black against the surrounding snow. The steep rock face at the bottom of the slope disappeared upwards. Joe couldn’t see the top of the hill through the falling snow. The place seemed about right. Another car passed but paid no heed to the Mercedes. Braun’s muffled voice came from the boot, probably prompted by the sudden halt. Joe ignored Braun.
He climbed out of the car and looked around. They were alone. The world was strangely silent as if waiting reverentially for his next move. He squinted up at the night sky. Snow continued to fall and settled on his upturned face. He shuddered, remembering his ordeal of two nights previously. The cold was getting to him. The car engine was still running. He brushed the snow from his face and leaned across the driver’s seat, slipped the car into drive and released the handbrake. He pulled himself sharply back, slammed the door and watched as the car moved slowly forward, gathering speed a little as it bumped and buffeted down the gentle slope. He thought he heard Braun call out as the car ran away, but wasn’t sure. After twenty yards or so the car reached the group of snow covered bushes burying its nose deep so that it was hardly visible as snow cascaded heavily from the branches above. Joe heard a loud thump as the front of the car hit the rock face. The rear end of the car bucked slightly with the sudden impact.