Killer Girls

by Martin Barkawitz

  ‘That sounds as if you had dealings with in the past.’

  ‘She crossed my path during my undercover assignment once or twice,’ Borges admitted. ‘And now I am curious about her.’

  ‘Well, there’s no great secret that needs to be lifted,’ she continued. ‘During that assignment, Lucia Lezzi was only a sideshow. But even then I realized that woman has a massive potential for aggression.’

  ‘Did you have a quarrel with her?’

  ‘I’ve always had the suspicion you’re keen on woman mud wrestling. But I have to disappoint you, my dear. That show between Lezzi and myself never happened.’

  ‘Can’t a man even dream at times?’ Jablonski quipped.

  ‘But only if you don’t want to miss the next junction!’ Borges told him and touched her tablet with the tip of her finger.

  ‘No panic, I’ve already noticed.’

  Jablonski used the indicator and left the Interstate, just as the Lincoln Navigator had done a short while ago.

  The two agents cruised through widely spread outskirts, where houses and former industrial sites were separated by small woods. Borges considered that buildings lots so far from Manhattan were relatively cheap. At least, the properties seemed to indicate that their owners were not part of a rich elite. That much even the beams of the car lights made obvious.

  The street lighting in this third class community was minimal. The car moved through places Borges had never heard of. Every shop was closed, a situation which for the residents of Manhattan would have been impossible.

  ‘Where, the hell, are they heading?’ She wondered aloud.

  ‘Places like these are ideal for disappearing. The only danger is dying of boredom.’

  ‘That’s a danger, even a criminal like Lezzi would never brave – Damn it, the road is getting worse by the minute.’

  For once Jablonski was unable to contradict Borges.

  The SUV ahead of them had left the rural road and had reached an unmade track through the woods. On both sides, huge Douglas firs hid the sky, so high that even the lights of the car could not be seen from afar. And some of their branches almost touched the car.

  It seemed as if the woods wanted to swallow the Crown Vic

  ‘Halt!’ Borges called out excitedly. ‘They seem to have stopped. And kill the lights. We don’t want to be seen.’

  ‘Keep your shirt on,’ her partner mumbled as he followed her order. ‘I’m not exactly a greenhorn in such matters.’

  ‘Although it sometimes seems like it.’ Borges quipped.

  She stared into the darkness that seemed all-embracing. The sky was clouded, so that even the moon and stars were invisible. It seemed as if the forest melted into the night sky.

  They sat in the middle of a black nowhere.

  ‘If you ask me, our suspects have a hideout hereabouts, a hunting lodge or something of the kind. I guess they’ll stay here until the heat is off.’

  ‘That will be a helluva long time,’ Borges returned grimly. She made to open the passenger door.

  ‘What have you got in mind, Lenita?’

  It was unusual for her when Jablonski used her Christian name.

  ‘What do you think? – Even if thinking is difficult for you. The SUV they used is stolen. I doubt is has night sights on board while we are the happy possessors of such aids. Which mean we can creep closer and take stock of the place. They, on the other hand, have to rely on torches if they want to find their way through the woods. Which means, we can recognize them while they aren’t aware of our presence.’

  ‘Wouldn't it be advisable to ask for reinforcements?’

  ‘Not before we can judge the situation.’ Borges countered. ‘If there is some kind of hunting lodge or whatever else, it is possible there are other persons present. Before we act, we need to know at least how many persons we have to deal with and what weapons they carry.’

  There was nothing to argue about, Jablonski realized. As a consequence, he kept his mouth buttoned while Borges slipped from the car and followed suit. They quietly closed the car doors and listened into the night.

  All they could hear was the sound of a light breeze in the trees. Nothing indicated that their presence had been discovered.

  They fetched their night goggles from the trunk of the car and donned them.

  ‘Okay, you take the East side, I the West. We’ll keep in contact via our Smartphones. Turn the sound off so I can send you messages.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be better to stay togeth …’

  Before he could complete the question, Borges disappeared in the undergrowth. She really thought it would be better to remain close to each other. But right now she needed a few minutes on her own. Jablonski was not a bad partner but sometimes he got on her nerves with his hesitation. That did not mean he was a coward, for then he would have been useless for field service in the FBI.

  But right now it was not the time to think about Jablonski. At this stage, she had to depend upon her own course of actions.

  As it had been when she had worked undercover.

  Somehow, she had lost the feeling of that experience. On the one hand the constant danger she had been in, due to unexpected developments, had made for excitement, on the other she had experienced a tingle of nerves that seemed to become an addiction. There were times when she missed that feeling, although even in her normal routine some dangerous situations arose.

  Borges’ night sight worked wonderfully well. She could move in the darkness without bumbling into trees or causing unnecessary sounds.

  She crept through the dense forest while keeping the not too distant track within her sight. Logically, the stolen SUV of the suspects had been parked somewhere close by. The trees stood very near to each other. From here it was virtually impossible to escape, if not on the narrow track. Finally, she managed to sight the vehicle. She reached for her Smartphone to impart the good news to her partner. But the screen showed only the disturbing letters:

  NO NETWORK

  Bulls!, she thought. She had to admit to herself she was not too displeased.

  Now she could not be troubled by her superiors for not having waited for reinforcements.

  She tightened her lips. That gave her the excuse not to be restrained from acting by the book and waiting for help. She had the means to deal with the Lezzis. In her opinion, Lucia was nothing but furious. The best thing was to lock her up and throw away the key.

  But Mario?

  Her feelings for him could only be described as a love-hate relationship.

  She knew, this man brought her no good.

  Although she had spent a few wonderful hours of her former life with him.

  But she had to drive away that memory.

  She had, some moments ago, reached for her service weapon with her gloved hand. Like her colleague, she had donned her dark blue jacket with the three letters FBI. No criminal could at some later stage claim they had not identified themselves as federal officers. Underneath, she wore a bullet-proof vest.

  The smell of a wet forest floor mingled with that of burning wood. But she saw no sign of an open fire. Besides, she thought it unlikely that the fugitives would have lit a fire in the open. Instead, she was certain, the hunting lodge had to be the origins, from an open hearth or a chimney.

  Moments later, her suspicions were confirmed. Before her, a small clearing opened up, with the SUV parked close to a wooden chalet that resembled the hut of a hermit. In any case, far from civilization, it offered the means to hide from the law.

  But not if the law is called Lenita Borges, she thought grimly, while she crept closer.

  22

  The hut had no electric lights.

  Mario had managed to adjust an oil lamp that dangled above the only table, which spread a homely light through the room. The gleam was brightened by a fire in the chimney, built of rough field stones., the wood having been laid by the last occupant and now lit.

  The hideout was simple but practical although there was only o
ne bed. What of it? Kea thought dejectedly.

  She doubted she would live through the night. Or if she had some time left, she would have to share her last hours with Mario and Lucia under one blanket.

  Mario acted the host. It seemed, it had been he alone who had known of this place of sanctity. At least, he had guided the SUV expertly to this place as if he had used the roads during daylight hours.

  He opened a can of corned beef and distributed its contents over three plates.

  ‘We’d better all eat a bit, to calm ourselves. And how about a shot of whiskey? We can follow it with tea, but right now a shot of alcohol can do no harm.’

  Lucia glanced angrily at him but nevertheless took a forkful of the beef. Mario filled three glasses from a bottle he had taken from a kitchen cupboard. There was no refrigerator.

  He lifted his glass.

  ‘To the health of Kea, without whose help we would not be sitting here now!’

  Lucia creased her brow.

  ‘Are you mad? I won’t celebrate with Adrian’s kidnapper.’

  Mario sighed deeply.

  ‘Sister dear, you may not be a horse – but you seem blinkered all the same. Won’t you accept, we would all be dead by now without Kea. Those two Irish potato heads were without a doubt in Old Barns’ employ. All Kea could have done was to leave with them. We would have been simply killed, because we could be incriminating witnesses. Just as happened to Alvarez.’

  Mario crossed himself as he mentioned the name of the old man.

  Lucia shrugged her shoulders with a face that betrayed her a suppressed anger.

  ‘Okay, so you’re sweet little chick has shown a bit of courage for once. It was long overdue. Since I know her, all she does is cry and whimper and can’t open her mouth for fear. And suddenly she kills that Irish roughneck as if it’s no more than a daily routine.’

  Her words caused Kea to blurt out: ‘And do you know why? It isn’t the first time I killed someone.’

  She spat out the words while tears burst from her eyes. Her face was flushed and she started to tremble.

  Lucia and Mario looked at each other. Suddenly they seemed to realize this was not just a show.

  ‘Killed? You?’ Lucia’s voice dripped skeptically. ‘I don’t see you as a killer. You’re too soft for that.’

  Mario kicked his sister under the table, although Kea noticed it. She wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled sadly. Then she gulped down her whiskey before she spoke again.

  ‘It’s true. I’m as scared as a rabbit, avoid any trouble and always try to do what others demand. I wanted to forget that I once killed someone.’

  Mario looked searchingly at her.

  ‘Why don’t you tell us how that happened? You can imagine, Lucia and I are keen to find out what all that was about.’

  Kea nodded slowly.

  ‘It was during a camping holiday with my parents, my friend Ulrike and her mother and father. We drove to the Taunus, a lovely wooded area in Germany. There was a large camping site in the midst of nature. It was lovely and warm. Ulrike and I played all day in the woods. But then we argued about something trivial. I can’t even remember what it was.’

  ‘You got mad with your friend?’

  ‘Yes, Lucia. Or rather no. Mad is the wrong expression. For one moment I really hated her. I can remember this feeling clearly to this day. It was like something burning inside me. At least, that was what I believe it was. I try my hardest never to think about it.’ She paused ‘But I keep dreaming of that day.’

  ‘Nightmares?’ Mario explained.

  ‘Yes, of course. For you that kind of thing has somehow become even normal, to do something against your own will. But I always thought myself to be a kind and loving girl until that holiday. When Ulli never stopped picking on me, I just lost it. We were playing catch. She kept running away and calling, again and again: ‘You can’t catch me, you lame duck.’ But finally she tripped and fell into that damned pond.’

  Mario and Lucia exchanged glances. It was as if they knew what was coming.

  Kea continued. ‘I lost total control over myself. I only know, I grabbed Ulli by the neck and pushed her under the water. She kicked and thrashed and there were lots of air bubbles. But I didn’t stop. I just wanted her to feel really bad. And that she never again would make fun of me. And then she was suddenly all limp. There were no more air bubbles rising from the muddy water. When we didn’t come back for lunch, our parents came looking for us. My father found me beside the corpse. I cried and cried and told him the truth. I had been brought up not to lie.’

  For a moment the room was filled with silence. Then Lucia said: ‘I would probably have made a big show and said a nasty man had drowned my friend. They would never have found out the truth.’

  Kea simply shrugged her shoulders.

  ‘No, probably not. But I wasn’t a dishonest child. And I think I am not dishonest now.’

  ‘What happened then?’ Mario asked.

  ‘I was only eight years old, below the age of criminal responsibility. I could not be prosecuted. After my parents realized what I had done, they dragged me to a child psychologist. For a time he treated me. Youth welfare also got involved and monitored our family for several years.’

  ‘Let me guess. Since then, you tried everything not to be noticed, to keep all negative thoughts from your life, to be liked by everyone.’ He surmised.

  ‘What would you do? With the police involved and welfare threatening to send me to some correctional institution.’

  ‘What a boring end,’ Lucia snorted disdainfully. And yet she observed Kea with a greater respect than before.

  ‘I haven’t told you everything,’ Kea continue softly after Mario had refilled her glass. ‘There was a feeling I had to suppress with all my might. When I killed the man at the filling station, it all came back to me. It is like an illness that refuses to go away. It was almost the same as on that day with Ulli. At that moment I seemed to have power over a human life.’

  ‘That can be a great temptation, intoxicating,’ Lucia said softly.

  Kea was convinced she knew what she was talking about.

  Mario rose to his feet.

  ‘Thank you for your honesty, Kea. All the same, I have to digest all that. I’m beginning to see you in a new light. If you ladies will excuse me – I need a breath of fresh air.’

  ‘Don’t run away too far or the big bad wolf will get you,’ his sister warned him.

  23

  Mario was puzzled.

  He had always been proud to be able to read other people. But that Kea carried a dark secret inside her had completely surprised him.

  Sure, he did not know the German girl too long or too well. But usually it took him only a few minutes to judge people.

  Somehow Mario was suddenly convinced Kea had nothing to do with the snatching of the child. Such a crime was not the deed of a highly strung young woman like her. No, she was innocent of such an action. He hoped that notion had also dawned on his sister.

  Mario drew the smell of pine needles and moist forest soil deep into his lungs. He loved the quietness of nature out here, although there were oases of peace even in the midst of New York. More than strangers could imagine. Tourists simply hurried from Broadway to the statue of liberty or allowed glittering shops and bars to relieve them of their money. Their image of New York was far from the truth and as cheap as the reproductions of plastic souvenirs of the Brooklyn bridge.

  The crack of a branch suddenly drove away his thoughts. He had only moved a few steps from the cabin.

  What he needed now was a light source, although he was usually proud of his sense of orientation and his keen eyes. But among the densely growing trees, not even the pale lights of the stars were visible.

  Was there someone near?

  He listened intently, but only the whisper of the wind among the firs was audible. It must have been some small animal that had left its den for the night, he concluded. In the still of the forest, even
the smallest sound seemed louder than all the noise of a city like New York with its millions of people.

  He could not even hear the voices of Kea and Lucia after he had closed the door.

  Or did they talk at all, rather than watching each either with silent thoughts?

  They would never become the best of friends. Still, Mario hoped his sister might overcome her reservations of Kea.

  Suddenly, he saw a movement at the edge of the forest. No, that was not some animal, it was …

  The cold steel of a pistol touched his neck.

  ‘Don’t move, my dear!’ He recognized a familiar voice. ‘If you try to warn the girls, you’ll regret it!’

  ‘Lenita?’

  It was her, no doubt. The undercover agent of the FBI with whom he had seriously fallen in love all that time ago. The young woman he had usually only seen dressed in jeans and the cheap coat with the emblem of the gas station. Or naked in his arms, when he had spent a night with her.

  When Mario had seen her again in court, she had worn a modest gray costume and looked exactly as one would imagine a female FBI agent.

  ‘Right first time – as I live and breathe,’ she whispered. ‘And you will tell me, who is beside you in that cabin.’

  He felt the pressure of her gun grow stronger.

  Mario hesitated,

  ‘You know I’m not bluffing.’

  ‘Oh sure, I always loved that temper of yours. They are only my sister Lucia and that Kea Kuhn from Germany. No one else. And that night sight you are wearing really flatters you.’

  Despite the darkness Mario could see the vision aid she had pulled over her head in the dim light.

  ‘We’re not here for the election of Miss America,’ Lenito hissed. ‘I’ll tell you what you will do now … You will …’

  Mario pushed the arm with the pistol to one side as he flew at her. His greater weight and the surprise of the attack sent both of them scrambling to the ground.

  He cried out as loud as he could: ‘Lucia. Run. The FBI is here!’