‘Are you the guy?’ he asked, his voice too childlike to take seriously.
Mason assessed him sceptically. ‘I’m the guy.’
‘It’s eighty bucks for a fortnight. Hundred for the month.’
‘And nobody else has a key?’
‘I keep a spare.’
Mason shifted his weight to the other foot. ‘But nobody else?’ He knew how these backstreet dealings could sometimes end in violence. If his Mustang became damaged or stolen, there would be hell to pay. Unless, of course, he was serving time for murder.
‘Nobody else.’
‘It’s settled then. I’ll take it a week at a time.’ Mason stowed his gun in the glove compartment, handed over the money, parked the Mustang inside and tucked it up under a sheet. See you soon, pal. It felt like waving goodbye to a friend, and as he walked off, imagined it whining like a dog being left alone for the first time.
He stood on the corner by the butcher’s shop, found Diane’s name in the address book of his new phone, and dialled the number. As it rang, he recognised his own insecurity – that he may never catch Lady Luck, and never prove himself innocent of this crime which he had, in fact, committed.
40
It was a suitable front page:
LADY LUCK – KILLER?
Perfect. There were other headlines she had envisioned while cleaning up the blood and gunk off the floor. Mopping up was damn near impossible. A big smile on her face from the thrill of her latest outing, she kicked the mop bucket towards one of the girls (whose name she had entirely forgotten). ‘Clean this up.’
The girl, tatty-clothed and filthy from head to toe, hurried nervously to pick up the mop. She dunked it onto the floor in one soggy heap and began to draw back and forth. It couldn’t have been nice to clear up her own sister’s blood, but the girl had to make herself useful somehow.
How fucking weak.
Lady went into the room with the drawing board, where her plan of action had been laid out across wooden beams. Red lengths of string linked them together. They were removable, of course, so as she could reattach them to suit her plan as it evolved.
‘Please, some water! Please!’ The voice came from the back of the bunker, desperate and shrill. It didn’t sound like Evelyn or Rosa. Linda, maybe. Whoever it was, only the females got the one-in-six odds of survival. The men, on the other hand, could all die.
‘Please!’ That voice again. Nails on a chalkboard.
Lady made a huffing sound and went to the nearby wall, where her cattle prod hung off a wall lamp. She took it and turned it on, storming towards the cell area. When she got there, Linda (at least she thought that was her name) was cowering and still uttering that same cringe-worthy scream.
‘Shut it. Right now,’ Lady said through her teeth.
Linda kept on screaming, crying, trembling. She was edging to the back of her cell – a cage made of timber by none other than Ben. ‘Just let me go,’ she pleaded, her face an ugly red smear of tears.
Lady opened the cell door, hurried over to her and poked at her with the prod. It made a beautiful pztt sound as it met with her skin, zapping an electrical charge into her leg. She prodded again, unsatisfied by the first cry of pain. Then, and only then, was she satisfied.
‘Don’t you get it, you stupid fool?’ Lady spat, driving the prod into her leg once more for good measure. ‘There’s no leaving here. This is your home now, until fate decides that you die.’
41
Diane had welcomed him over, and it wasn’t too hard to find.
Only a few blocks of fast-paced walking and he was there, looking up the stone steps at a perfectly varnished door. The lights were on and the drapes were open, allowing the outside world to see her fancy chandelier and cabinet of antiques.
Mason, having taken her for more of a modernised-apartment type of girl, was more than surprised. He’d had no idea she could afford such a home and wondered what she did for a living.
Diane greeted him at the door and let him in to see the inside up close. It didn’t disappoint. Everything was oak or crystal, opening up suggestions of wealth.
‘I don’t mean to pry,’ Mason said, sliding off his coat, ‘but how did you…’ He whirled his finger around the room, letting out a slow whistle.
Diane smiled, her teeth a perfect row of whites. ‘I have a job, darling.’
Right, of course. On the night they’d spent together, they had been so deep in conversation about Evie that they had barely scratched the surface of their own personal lives. ‘And what might that be?’
‘I’m a reconstructive surgeon. I can’t believe I haven’t told you that.’
‘Me neither.’
She led him through to the kitchen, where they sat at the breakfast bar and shared a half-bottle of wine. It was probably the cheapest thing in the house. Mason ran her through his recent findings, including the bloody code from the railway track.
‘To think,’ she said, ‘I usually like puzzles.’
Mason nodded.
‘Okay, be right back.’ Diane disappeared out of the room and returned moments later with a notepad and pen. She wrote the code as he described and listed possibilities underneath. ‘Let’s get our obvious options out of the way, coordinates, dates–’
‘An address?’
‘Right.’ She scribbled that down. ‘Bank numbers or a safety deposit box.’
‘You really think so?’ Mason said, recovering from a large gulp of wine.
‘We can’t afford to rule anything out, no matter how stupid it sounds.’
They were at it for hours, constantly moving positions between the stools, the couch, and the wide-open area on the living room floor. Their list had grown to over fifteen different possibilities, and they were working through them slowly, desperately trying to find the meaning behind the message – assuming, of course, that it even was a message, and not just means of distraction.
‘You look tired,’ Diane said, rubbing her eyes.
‘So do you,’ he said, then added, ‘But still beautiful.’
Diane smiled then, placing a hand on his and turning her head shyly. When she looked back up, their gazes locked and their lips came closer together, kissing softly. It was one powerful, euphoric moment that lasted, until Mason pulled away.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. What was I thinking – kissing some girl while Evie is still in danger? ‘That was inappropriate.’
‘Don’t be so stiff,’ Diane said, giggling. ‘Look, let’s figure this out and then head to bed.’ She must have realised how it had sounded, laughed, and then added: ‘I mean, I will go to my bed, and you’re welcome to stay on the couch for as long as you need.’
‘You’re sure?’ It was a kind gesture, Mason thought, and was suddenly so grateful to have this woman in his life.
‘Sure. It’s not like you can go back to your place now, is it?’
Mason supposed she was right. ‘Thank you.’
For the next few hours, they continued with their puzzle, until Mason fell asleep on the floor and Diane’s cheek was softly nuzzled into his neck. The night passed itself by as they slept heavily in each other’s embrace.
42
Mason stood staring at the front page of the newspaper, other customers walking around him as he was seized by his trance. He had only stepped out of Diane’s house to grab some smokes (it had been years since he’d indulged, so figured it couldn’t hurt). Now, he wished he was back in hiding.
His face was on the front page – his photograph from his years of service with the San Francisco Police Department. The headline read:
EX-COP MISSING DURING MURDER INVESTIGATION.
SUSPECTED INVOLVEMENT?
Things had gone from bad to worse. Snapping out of his dumb gaze, Mason left the idea of cigarettes behind and got out of there. He began heading towards Diane’s, wondering how he could possibly have let it get this far.
Crossing the street, Mason flicked a glance over his shoulder and saw them.
> Two police officers in uniform. The same two who had taken him back to the station following the alleyway incident? It seemed so – they were coming his way and were staring at him with hostile expressions on their faces.
Mason turned to walk hurriedly. If he was still planning on getting back to Diane, he would have to make sure he wasn’t followed. After all, it was his one remaining sanctuary. He walked faster, then heard the shouting from behind.
‘Mason Black, hold right there!’
What other option was there? Mason burst into a sprint, moving around people as best he could. There was a sudden fear that some do-gooder might stick out their foot, thinking they were doing their city a great justice.
If only they knew what was really happening.
By now, the officers must have radioed in for backup. This left Mason exposed for as long as he was out in the open. He reached an abandoned building – one familiar from a drug bust a few years ago – and burst through the front door.
Inside, junkies lay lifelessly on their scruffy mattresses, their mouths open in slow surprise at their uninvited guest. But Mason had no time to stop and stare. The officers were coming inside, and he was hurrying between the rooms, praying that he wouldn’t take a wrong turn.
He dashed through the kitchen, shoved the door shut and pulled the nearby dresser across the floor. In normal circumstances it might have been heavy, but the adrenaline lent him an extra dose of strength. The blockade in place, he went for the back door.
The beaten yard had a waist-high chain-link fence, and Mason ran towards it. The barrier he’d established in the house would only hold back the officer for so long. He sprinted, as fast as his legs could take him, into the gravel driveway.
But as soon as his foot hit the stones, an astonishing force drove into him. Mason felt the pain shoot through his body as he thudded to the ground. He was on his front now, a knee planted firmly into his back with the gravel scratching his cheek. Mason had been caught, and there was nothing he could do about it.
‘Mason Black, I’m arresting you on suspicion of…’
As the officer droned on and his partner came to his side, Mason’s vision blurred in deep thought of Evie. Where was she now? How could he possibly come to help her if he was behind bars? Throughout this entire ordeal, only one thing was clear.
He had let her down.
43
Cell phone. Wallet. Keys. All taken.
‘You know, you almost had us there,’ said the bald officer from the passenger seat. There was something interesting about this man – he could arrest you and still make you feel like an old friend of his.
‘Yeah, well,’ Mason bit his lower lip, ‘I’m an innocent man.’
Both officers laughed.
‘You don’t need to convince me, Mr Black. If it were up to me, you could go on a killing spree and I’d let you off with a slap on the wrist. I saw you as a detective and admired you for the most part.’ He turned in his seat. ‘But the captain… She isn’t your best friend right now.’
Mason ignored the comment about his past. Although he hated to toot his own horn, he knew that he had a number of followers. How could he not? He had always done his best, and always looked out for his colleagues. ‘Believe what you want. I’m still innocent.’
For the next few minutes, the car was silent. Mason watched out of the window as the street went by. They weren’t far from the police station now. Another ten minutes, depending on traffic conditions.
‘So, what was it about?’ The other officer spoke for the first time since the arrest. His dark eyes constantly flicked between the road and the rear-view mirror as they stopped at a set of lights.
‘What was what about?’ from Mason.
‘Those numbers on the tracks. That was for you, wasn’t it?’
‘No comment.’
He chuckled. ‘It’s not an official statement. I’m just curious.’
Mason considered telling him, but it was pointless. ‘No comment,’ he said again.
‘Well, I don’t envy you. This wall has your name on it, and it’s coming down hard.’ The lights flicked to green. The driver switched gears and pulled out of the spot. Carelessly, his head was over his shoulder, looking at Mason again. ‘But if I were you–’
It happened in a heartbeat. Mason felt a jolt as his body contorted to the left. His cheek hit the seat, and only then did he hear the metallic smash. The windows shattered and rained all over him as the car flipped.
Everything went blurry then, his ears ringing. His chest felt like it was on fire, the seatbelt having tugged hard against the impact of the other car. Even his temple stung. Had he hit the seatbelt buckle? It was hard to tell. All he knew, as he lay on his back in the upside-down car, was that the pain was extraordinary.
44
Dazed, and summoning the remains of his energy, Mason crawled through the broken window. As much as he hated to leave the officers here, he needed to get out. Only after he helped Evie would he turn himself in.
His legs felt ready to give way as he pushed himself to his feet, but he forced himself to stand. Hobbling on the now-sensitive ankle, he made his way to the nearest backstreet. But he was only twenty yards away when he heard somebody shouting.
‘It’s on fire!’
Mason turned, slowly coming around to comprehension. The woman, wherever she had screamed from, was right. The car’s trunk was ablaze, if only slightly. How quickly it would catch the fuel tank was uncertain, but he couldn’t just leave the officers to die.
He stumbled back, pain shooting through his entire body.
At the car, he fell to his knees, leaned in and unclipped the bald man’s seatbelt. He was unconscious, a river of blood running down one side of his face. While his partner begged for help, Mason had to prioritise the one who was entirely unable to help himself.
He pulled with all his strength, heaving the man from the car and to a safe distance.
But it wasn’t over yet.
The other officer was yelling, begging for help. The fire had spread, turning the back tyre into a black, rubbery goo. The tank would blow at any second.
For an extremely brief moment, Mason considered making his escape. But what would Amy think of him if he’d let an innocent man die, just to save his own skin? What would Evie think? What would Diane do if she found out?
Mason stumbled forward and manoeuvred around to the driver’s side. The door was buckled and hanging off its hinge. A small kick tore it off and sent it clanging to one side while Mason grabbed the officer from under his arms.
‘Please, hurry. I-I can’t feel my legs,’ the officer was mumbling, freaking out.
The tank was alight now, leaving them with only seconds to gain some distance. They were only ten yards away when the car burst into a fireball with a loud bang, leaping five feet off the ground before landing on its side in a crumpled mess.
‘Thank… Thank you.’ The officer still couldn’t move.
The other car – the one that had collided with them – was at a safe distance. It was impossible to tell if the driver was badly injured, but Mason had no time to check up on him. At least that car wasn’t a ticking time bomb.
This was Mason’s last chance. He was about to run when he saw the bulge in the officer’s pocket. He rummaged through it, found his confiscated cell phone, and limped away as quickly as possible. In all the drama, he had forgotten about his own pain. But right now, he was just glad that they were all safe.
‘Call an ambulance,’ he yelled at a teenage boy, who had been standing gawking at them.
‘O-Okay,’ he said, and pulled out his phone.
Mason seized the opportunity to leave the scene as quickly as possible. He found a backstreet, slumped against the wall, and fell to his ass. It was a miracle he had made it out of there alive. Now, he needed to rest.
But that wasn’t going to happen. Not just yet. The cell phone rumbled in his palm. Mason saw that it was Diane and answered within seconds.
/> ‘Yeah? Ah.’ He felt a jolt of pain, sucked air through his teeth.
‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine. I just stubbed my toe.’
‘Right,’ said Diane. ‘Well, I have some news that will cheer you up.’
Mason’s heart began to race. ‘What is it?’
‘I think I’ve figured out what the message means.’
45
‘It’s a meeting place, and a time to be there.’
Mason felt a dry lump in his throat.
Diane went on. ‘The MB part is addressing you, of course. FERN is a place – Fern Avenue, which isn’t too far from where we first met.’
He knew the place. ‘Go on.’
‘Ten-eighteen had me stumped for a little while, until I saw today’s date in the paper – nice photo, by the way.’
In spite of the circumstances, Mason caught himself smiling.
‘And so the twelve-thirty–’
‘Is the time,’ Mason finished. ‘That’s only a half-hour from now. Diane, did I ever tell you that you’re an absolute genius?’
‘Just remember who helped you when you get out of this mess.’
Mason said his goodbyes and took every side-street he could. Fern Avenue, he thought as he made his way there, carefully placing his swollen ankle with each step. That’s quite a code. Whoever did this was testing him. Who else would go to such trouble to get his attention? He wondered what might have happened to Evie if Diane had never figured it out for him.
When he arrived on the correct street, Mason stayed at the mouth of an alleyway, watching any and all movements. He had no idea of what – or whom – to expect. For all he knew, Lady Luck herself might be making an appearance, and he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
With only ten minutes to go, Mason began to panic. He had only been given the street name, and no specific part of that long stretch of road to be at. Perhaps he had to be in one of the shops, or out on the sidewalk and ready to hop into a car.
Mason Black (The Complete Collection): 6 Gripping Crime Stories: The Complete Collection + BONUS Story Page 25