DON'T LOOK DOWN

by Barbara Scott Emmett

  ‘Notice the friggin gun, pal?’ Klaus said. ‘That means I ask the questions.’

  The man’s fingers flexed at his sides.

  ‘Cicicu,’ said Klaus. ‘Let me guess. Kristo Cicicu.’

  The man said nothing.

  ‘Where is she?’

  The man did not reply.

  ‘The Hartmann girl. Where is she?’

  Kristo licked his lips as Klaus jerked the Glock towards him.

  ‘Come on, K. Might as well tell me. Unless you wanna lose a coupla toes.’ He swung the gun downwards.

  Kristo took a step back.

  ‘First your right foot. Then your left foot. Then your knees. I like to do things in pairs.’ Klaus raised the gun. ‘And I don’t recommend you let me get above knee level. Know what I’m saying?’

  Kristo swallowed. ‘Dunno where she is. My brother’s got her. Zamir. Took her off somewhere. Go look for him.’

  ‘Already did, K. He wasn’t home.’

  Kristo lifted a beefy shoulder. ‘Then I don‘t know –’

  Klaus stepped into the man’s personal space and pushed the gun up under his chin. The tip of the barrel disappeared into the folds of his short neck.

  ‘Maybe this time I’ll start from the top and work down,’ Klaus said. ‘It’s good to have a change. Let’s see. What you got two of up around here? Ears? Eyes? Nostrils?’ He brought the gun up against the man’s pug nose, squashing it and tilting it upwards.

  ‘I told you, I dunno where he took her.’ Kristo backed away, bumping into the desk. ‘Was Zamir’s idea. Acted on his own. He’s a half wit. I’m telling you the truth!’ His movement against the desk made the screensaver shut itself off and the screen come back into view. Klaus eyeballed the image over Kristo’s shoulder.

  ‘Jeez, K. What the fuck you lookin at here?’ His eyes widened in disgust. ‘Christ! You fuckin pervy bastard. You get your friggin kicks lookin up little girls’ pussies? Good mind to shoot you anyway, you nonce.’

  He levelled the Glock at the centre of Kristo’s forehead.

  Eighty-five

  A flurry of snow slapped Lauren in the face as she stepped out of the warehouse into the street. She glanced right and left, checking for lurking gunmen. The street was empty apart from parked cars. God, let this nightmare soon be over. Axel went on ahead to wrestle the doors of the Beetle open. Lindita hung back, sheltering in the doorway.

  ‘Lindita doesn’t need to come,’ Lauren said, joining Axel. ‘It’s a filthy night. But I’m sure we’ll find the place without her.’

  ‘It will be good for her to see Zamir with someone else. To see finally what he is and how he operates.’ Axel fixed his eyes on Lauren. ‘Don’t worry. I will take great care of her. I always do.’ He waved the girl over.

  Protecting your investment, Lauren thought, but she said nothing.

  Axel rummaged on the back seat of the Beetle and found a map. ‘I know the area well, myself. But look at the map if you wish to.’ He passed it across to her. Lindita folded the front passenger seat forward and slid into the back. Lauren got into the front and slammed the door.

  ‘I’ll take care of Alina too. You must not concern yourself about that. A few weeks and you will not recognise her. The other girls will feed her up. She is far too skinny.’

  ‘Fattening her up for Christmas?’ Lauren said.

  Axel frowned. ‘For Christmas?’ He started up the engine. ‘Ah, you mean like a goose?’

  ‘Look,’ Lauren said. ‘I’m grateful for your help. I just can’t approve of what you do.’

  Axel paused, his bony hands side by side at the top of the steering wheel. ‘I offer these woman a chance. I do not coerce. They have very few options when they first come to me. As soon as their options increase, they make their own choices. What would you suggest? That they starve?’

  ‘Forget it. Everybody has to make a living, I suppose.’

  He turned to face her. The atmosphere in the little VW thickened. Lauren felt his proximity like a charge of electricity.

  ‘You imagine I am like Zamir and the others?’ Axel’s eyes lasered holes through her skull.

  Lauren looked down at the map, fiddling with the corners. ‘Aren’t you?’

  Axel jerked the car into gear and shot forward. The windscreen wipers battled against the buffeting snow. ‘No, Lauren Keane, I am not.’ He rotated the wheel and the Beetle slithered around a corner. ‘I do not profit from these women.’

  ‘You don’t?’

  Axel swung the VW out into Webersplatz. ‘I do not. The money they make is their own. They save to go home or to go to college. I am not their pimp.’

  ‘Oh. Then I’m sorry. But... well, you must know what it looks like. I mean – Jesus!’ Lauren flung her hands out to grab the dashboard as the VW screeched to a halt inches from a Mercedes that blocked the road.

  Axel spun the wheel, twisted to look over his shoulder and jammed the car into reverse.

  ‘What the hell –?’ Lauren looked around wildly. ‘Is that those bastards again? How did they know where I was?’

  Axel’s face was grim. ‘I am wondering that myself.’

  The car backed into a J-turn, turned about face and sped away from the obstruction. The Merc swung around to give chase. Lindita clung to the back of Lauren’s seat. Bloody goons, thought Lauren. Would she never shake them off?

  The Merc came up close behind the VW. Its nose was right up their rear like a dog sniffing a bitch. It shunted the Beetle two or three times, sending it into a skid.

  Shit! Lauren gripped the seat as the little car slid out of control, slammed into a parked Peugeot, bounced off and did a pirouette, ending up facing the Mercedes with both its orange doors flapping like chicken wings. A hand waving a gun appeared out of one of the Merc’s windows.

  Here we go again. Lauren ducked below the windscreen, scrambled out of the VW and, using the open door for cover, scuttled behind the line of parked cars. Lindita jerked the seat forward and followed her.

  Axel slammed the Beetle into gear and revved the engine. Barrelling forward he rammed the nose of the VW into the Merc’s grinning grille as the first shot rang out.

  Lauren didn’t wait to see what happened. She heard the VW’s engine grinding and trusted Axel knew how to look after himself. She ran flat out down a dark back street. As she rounded a corner, she saw she was back at the Meisengeige. The little pizza bike was still parked in the alleyway.

  She paused to get her breath back while Lindita caught her up. ‘Run in there and tell them to phone the police,’ she said, pushing the girl towards the cafe. ‘I’ve got to go.’ She stuffed Axel’s map into her pocket and swung a leg over the bike, praying it would start. Weak with shock and fear, Lauren kicked it into life. It started.

  She hoped Axel was okay, but there was no time to worry about him. That was Lindita’s job. Her job was to get to Katti.

  She was on her own again.

  ~

  When she was far enough away from the ’Geige to relax a little, Lauren pulled up. She took the map out, along with the torch Axel had given her. She checked the route to the Devil’s Hole – it seemed straightforward enough – and put the map in the pannier. There was a helmet in there and a pair of gauntlets.

  Gratefully, she pulled them on. The helmet would keep her head and face dry; the gloves would give her frozen hands some respite from the chill. Shame she hadn’t thought to check the panniers out earlier.

  She wondered if Wolf had set off yet. He’d probably rushed out the minute he got her message. He was likely to be there before she was. With any luck he’d phoned the police before he set off and they were on their way as well. Surely Hartmann couldn’t still be insisting on keeping the kidnapping from them. About time it was all sorted out.

  Damn it, she thought, I should have grabbed Axel’s phone then I could have rung the flat again and got Wolf’s mobile number.

  She thought about Axel as she headed towards the ring road. Was he telling the truth when he sai
d he didn’t take the money from the girls? When she thought about it, the answer was obvious really. He drove a clapped out Beetle and lived in some kind of squat filled with furniture from a skip. He didn’t appear to live the life of a man made wealthy by pimping.

  So what was he then? Some kind of self-appointed saviour of fallen women? Oh well, it was just one more instance of mistaken judgement on her part. Were all men other than she imagined they were? One of these days she would learn to reserve her judgement until she had all the facts.

  Eighty-six

  The boulder teetered by the roadside like a giant marble that had rolled down the hill and was simply waiting for another push before it set off again. Lauren pootered on past it for a quarter of a mile before pulling into a picnic site. Wooden benches and tables stood amongst the pines, snow whitening the tops like damask cloths, frost glittering like crystal.

  She climbed off and tucked the bike behind an outcrop of rocks where it couldn’t be seen. She didn’t want to advertise her arrival so approaching on foot would be best.

  Keeping the visor of her helmet down to protect her face from the wind, she trudged back up the deserted road. The rock wall towered above her and she kept close in to it, hiding her moon shadow in the denser shade of the overhang. At least she didn’t need her torch yet. She patted it to make sure it was still tucked into her belt and wondered how Axel was getting on. She hoped the goons lived up to form and were as useless as ever.

  Slowing as she drew near to the boulder, she peered in all directions. When a car droned up from the south she leapt behind the outcrop, squeezing as far back as she could. The headlights swept past slowly but the vehicle didn’t stop. Cautious driver, that’s all, wary of the icy road.

  Lauren moved out of the shadows, flitted across the two lane road and ducked down behind bushes on the other side. High above her, a deeper blackness suggested a hole cut into the rock wall. Could this be Sammy’s cave? Keeping low, she scuttled from bush to bush, rock to rock until she saw a pathway leading upwards. By the side of the path the trickle of a rill had frozen hard.

  A huge boulder. Water. This had to be the place.

  A broad swathe of what in summer would be grass stretched beneath the cave. Smooth and virginal, the snow covering the area showed no sign of tyre tracks, no evidence of footprints. Her heart knocked in her throat. No sign of anyone. No movement anywhere.

  The apparent desertion of the place didn’t stop her scalp getting goose-pimples though. The cave might appear silent and empty but that didn’t mean there was no one there. Like her, someone could have parked elsewhere and approached from the road. She hitched the collar of her jacket a little further up her neck.

  Lauren hesitated, crouching near the bottom of the path, eyes fixed on the cave high above. It looked like a snarling mouth. Icicles speared from the overhang like teeth glinting in the moonlight. Where was Wolf? Why wasn’t he here yet? Should she wait for him? Or should she go up, go in, see what was there? She knocked her hands together for warmth. Her teeth were chattering.

  God, what had she let herself in for now? She hugged herself tightly, aware of the sour roiling in her guts that made her want to turn tail and flee. She’d give anything to have stayed at home last Thursday instead of boarding that bloody plane. Anything.

  She thought about that for a moment. Well, why didn’t she just leave? She could climb back on that stupid little bike and putter off to safety. She was crazy to have come here. In truth, she was terrified.

  Lauren hesitated. Leaving was more sensible than hanging around here freezing, waiting for some psychopath to come and shoot her. Hunching her shoulders, she looked up and down the deserted road debating with herself. She stamped her feet and clasped her hands, fidgeting the oversized gloves to generate some heat. Rubbing like that, she felt her rings dig sharply into her cold fingers. Her ring. Katti’s ring.

  Shit, she muttered. Of course she couldn’t leave. If there was the slightest chance Katti was up there, she couldn’t leave. If the situation were reversed, she was damn sure Katti wouldn’t leave.

  She scanned the road again. Where the hell was Wolf? If Katti was up there she could freeze to death before he got here. I’ll go up, she thought. I’ll go up cautiously. Check things out. At least then she’d be moving, not standing here until her resolve drained away and she got so stiff she wouldn’t be able to climb.

  Feeling better for having made a decision, Lauren edged up the path, keeping her profile low and hugging the line of bushes that sprouted from the hillside. After a gentle incline, the track turned back on itself and rose steeply. As she was about to start up the steeper stretch, a movement above caught her eye. Ducking down, she cast a cautious glance upwards. Someone was standing at the cave mouth.

  Hunkering down behind a denuded bush, Lauren watched as the figure picked its way down the narrow path. He – she assumed it was a he – had one arm outstretched for balance and seemed to be concentrating on keeping himself upright. She drew herself up into a ball, imitating the shape of the rocks scattered across the hillside. Don’t let him see me. Don’t let him see me.

  As the crunch of boots drew near she curled herself tighter. She froze as he trod past, certain that if she so much as trembled he’d see the bush shake. As the footsteps headed on downwards, she heard the skid of shoe leather on ice and a muttered curse – it was a man. She peered around the bush after him but he had rounded a bend in the path. When the footsteps faded, she tilted her steamed-up visor off her face and took another look.

  The man was now at the side of the apron of snow that stretched across a clearing below the cave. She still couldn’t make him out properly. He appeared to be picking his way around the edge, presumably to conceal his footprints in the rougher drifts alongside the frozen stream. A car door clunked softly and an engine purred to life. Lauren heard the car crunching over snow but could not see it. There must be some other way to the foot of the cave. Some path to it other than the road she had come by.

  As the noise of the engine receded she eased out of her hiding place and caught a glimpse of headlights cutting across the road a few hundred feet away. The snowy apron immediately below the cave remained virginal in the moonlight. There was still no sign that anyone had been here tonight.

  Lauren glanced up at the cave again. Okay. He’s gone. Go on up. She hesitated still. The climb wasn’t an easy one, even in her fur lined boots. She hadn’t expected to do anything other than stroll around the streets of Nuremberg this trip. Climbing frozen hillsides hadn’t been part of her plan.

  She steeled herself for the trek. Deep breath, shoulders back. The gauntlets from the bike were oversized and cumbersome but at least her hands were protected. The leather jacket and the LoveSexy! sweatshirt weren’t enough to keep out the bitter chill, even with three borrowed teeshirts underneath. She worked her way up the path slowly, taking care to lean in towards the hillside and stay away from the edge. Her guts churned, she felt breathless. Touch of vertigo. Don’t look down.

  Lauren took care to tread in the tracks made by whoever had gone up and down earlier. The path was strewn with stones and shale and, though blanketed with snow, made for an uneven trail. She caught her foot and stumbled, her boot soles slithering on packed ice. Christ! Her heart stopped and she clawed at branches growing out of the side of the cliff. Easy does it.

  At the steepest part of the path she hunched down to lower her centre of gravity, dragging herself hand over hand up the last few yards. At least the exercise is warming me up, she thought, panting. Though getting Katti up here, drugged, would be an impossibility, surely. Could she really be here?

  After another minute she was at the top, standing where the man had stood, on the lip of the cave. Above her head, icicles ten feet long glimmered in the moonlight. Below her was a fifty foot drop to rocks and rubble and the white handkerchief of the clearing. Shuddering, she turned away from the edge. The cave was a dark maw. Hesitating at the entrance, wide-eyed, she searched the inter
ior blackness.

  Go in. Go in and look.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she shivered. Snow bleached the hillside and a far off church bell tolled: Midnight.

  He’s gone. You saw him leave. Go in.

  But there might be others, she reasoned. It could be a trap.

  It isn’t. He’s gone. Go in.

  She ventured into the cave, the pulse in her throat violent. Moonlight streaming through the icicles painted bars across the rock floor. Lauren eased into the shadows.

  Call Katti’s name. Call out.

  No! she told herself. A voice echoing around the cavern would be heard for miles on such a clear sharp night. I have to keep quiet. I’ll find her. She can’t be too far in. If she’s here at all.

  She edged further into the cave, hands outstretched, eyes straining against the darkness. Sliding her feet across the rock floor, she felt her way forward, unwilling to switch on her torch, afraid of alerting anyone below to her presence.

  The cave was dank and musty. A deep chill seeped into her bones. Not as fresh and cold as the air outside, she thought. Not as invigorating as the frosty winter night. She paused, held her breath, listened: Silence, apart from the thud of her heart against her ribs.

  As she crept forward again, her foot slid under something and she was unbalanced, sent sprawling. But instead of frozen rock to break her fall, she felt the soft give of cooling flesh yield beneath her palms.

  The scream was ripped from her. It bounced around the cave in a series of echoes as she fought with the corpse. It seemed to hinder her, cling to her, seek to lock her in its embrace. She scrambled off it, pushed herself away, scuttled backwards.

  Get away from me. Get away. Get away.

  She sat shivering, hugging herself as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. No. God. No. Please. No. Her whimpers echoed around the cave. When they subsided, she gathered all her courage, every last ounce she possessed, and crawled forward until she could make out the dimensions of the body.

  It lay face up, a few feet beyond the wedge of moonlight. Don’t let it be Katti. Don’t let it be Katti. No please, not Katti. She reached out to lift the limp hand – a pale glimmer in the shadows. Stilled by a scraping step behind her, her hand hovered. Her breath was strangled in her throat, her scalp tingled. She crouched, afraid to look over her shoulder. Afraid to look up into cold, murderous eyes.