Torque

by Glenn Muller

  “Why didn’t you just go to the police from the start?”

  “They attacked me before I knew I was involved. Once I figured things out it had become personal. You came into the picture very early and I really didn’t expect—”

  “So you only asked me out to get information for your own vendetta?” Kim got to her knees and turned to face him.

  “You asked me out. And, no, I would never do that.”

  “Who else knows about this? Do you even have any other friends?”

  It was Fenn’s turn to sigh. This wasn’t going at all well.

  “Apart from Eileen and Larry, the other people who know are Asha Fabiani and Joe Posada from DriveCheck. And Tony, of course.”

  “Tony.” Kim’s body sagged. “He will be okay, won’t he?”

  “Tony’s a tough guy. He’ll pull through just fine.”

  “He’s got the darkest eyes. I just love the way they sparkle. You should have seen the way he fought off the guys chasing me. He told me to take the car and drive away without a thought for himself.” She sat back as if Fenn were just another piece of furniture and rearranged the blanket. “Which hospital is he at?”

  “The one in Milton. Unless they’ve moved him.”

  “Why would they move him?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just something they do occasionally.”

  Why had he even said that? It was inconceivable that Tony would succumb to his injuries, although Fenn showed students gruesome simulations of rollovers, every week, and the result was never good.

  “Soon as I get out of here, I’m going to find him and propose,” Kim spoke as if talking about getting a pedicure.

  “Propose?”

  “Ask him to marry me.”

  “Marry you?”

  “Yes. Marry me. Is that so hard to grasp?”

  “A little sudden don’t you think.”

  “Love at first sight, Chas. Something clicked between us that night at the barn. I felt it and I know he did too. I mean, our date, what there was of it, was fun. I guess I never told you that. But I haven’t been able to get Tony off my mind. Tell me I’m not picking the wrong guy again. Or …” She paused. “He’s not already spoken for, is he? I never thought of that. Has he a girlfriend? A wife?” She twisted around to look at Fenn.

  “No. Nobody. He’s not spoken for.”

  Kim let out her breath. “Well he is now.”

  Indeed. Well that certainly answered that question.

  == == ==

  The task force team leader found Detective Inspector Lareault within the Special Operations trailer. It was now one a.m.

  “Thermal and acoustics confirm four males inside the house. No other persons on site.”

  Lareault had to ask. “Could they detect a dead body?”

  “If the death was recent there would be residual heat. As long as the deceased wasn’t in a refrigerator or freezer our sensors could pick it up.”

  That was the answer he would have to give Jack Klaasen who was now sitting in a squad car with Frank Bloomfield. Klaasen had come storming in like a one-man shock wave, and who could blame him when his daughter was being held against her will and her fate uncertain. Bloomfield had intercepted him and then, like oil on water, had kept the man in a reasonably calm state of mind.

  “Our snipers are set up. We can storm the gate and go in with flashbangs anytime.”

  “Good to know,” said Lareault. “But I don’t want the bad guys escaping through the woods in the dark.”

  “There’ll be no escaping, sir.”

  Lareault had heard that one before. “If your Special Team’s report is valid then we’ve nothing to lose and everything to gain by waiting for daybreak. I’d like to avoid a running gunfight in the dark and, if Fenn and the hostage are in the woods, we’ll have a better chance to coordinate our search effort when it gets light.”

  “If you say so, sir. Though there are other scenarios.”

  “Such as?”

  “When was the last time you heard from your inside man?”

  Lareault checked his watch. “About fifteen hours ago, although we’re quite certain he’s up here.” Lareault could see where the team leader was going with this but let him continue.

  “Okay; alternate scenario one has Charleton Fenn showing up, joining the gang, and the hostage and your officer are killed and disposed of.

  “Alternate scenario two has Charleton Fenn showing up, joining the gang, but your officer escapes into the woods with the hostage.”

  Lareault agreed. “Those are both viable possibilities but they don’t change the timetable. Unless there is a tangible development, we still wait for dawn.”

  “Understood.” The team leader walked back to his cluster of men and Lareault went to have a talk with Jack Klaasen.

  Klaasen had been chatting with Bloomfield as amiably as could be expected under the circumstances yet his eyes had rarely left Lareault. He exited the squad car as the detective inspector approached. Half a head shorter than Lareault, Klaasen had close-cropped hair and piercing blue eyes. He appeared to have the wiry strength of a terrier, which matched his reputation, and his grip was firm although his hands were no longer calloused from long days with a hammer.

  “Any news?”

  “We’re monitoring the situation, Mr. Klaasen. As soon as there is a development we will let you know.”

  “And what kind of development do you expect? A gunshot? Somebody—my Kim—being killed?”

  Lareault put his hands up. “We think it’s possible that your daughter has escaped into the woods.” He was taking the soft option but it was the option he also wanted to believe.

  “Then why aren’t these men out searching for her? Doesn’t your helicopter have heat sensors? If it’s a matter of money …”

  “It’s not a matter of money, sir. And, yes, we do have that equipment. The problem is that large animals roam the woods at night; deer, bear, wolves, fox, coyotes. They are not a threat but they do give off false signatures. It would be counterproductive to have our men stumbling around in the dark chasing deer.” Lareault sensed an objection coming and got in first.

  “There will be a search—though not until first light. While I don’t want to give you false hope, Mr. Klaasen, I am optimistic of a positive outcome.”

  Klaasen studied him with a steady gaze yet his face showed the strain he was under.

  “Is there not something I can do? Sitting here in suspense is killing me.”

  Lareault understood. He looked over at the task force waiting by the MPV in a relaxed state of readiness. They were also terriers. He turned back to Klaasen.

  “If you want something to do, then come with me.”

  CHAPTER 48

  Thursday October 29th

  Chico had let the fire die and was sitting in the dark. Through the sliding glass doors he saw Rowan pause briefly at the end of the deck then continue his fourth and final circuit of the house. Rowan held his gun casually but he patrolled with a do it and get it over with attitude. The woods at night were no place for a vivid imagination.

  He finished his coffee and took the mug to the kitchen. The front door slammed shut and Rowan strode over to the deck entrance and closed the blinds again.

  “Were these open for a reason?” he said.

  “Just making sure you weren’t mugged by a raccoon.”

  “Well, whatever is rustling around out there is going to be Jenner’s problem for the next few hours. I’ll tell him to come down.”

  He took off his jacket and ascended to the second floor where he met Jenner on the landing.

  “I thought you’d be asleep.”

  “A little tough with Tad wheezing and moaning. You’ll soon see what I mean.”

  “Could he have a punctured lung?”

  Jenner tapped his fingers on the stair rail.

  “We’ll see how he is in the morning. Speaking of which, I want to get an early jump on our two rabbits. I disabled Fenn’s car in case they ma
ke it to the road, though we should be able to hunt them down before then.”

  “When we found Tad they were heading deeper into the forest. My guess is they’ll hunker down somewhere until it gets light. It would be good to resolve that issue before the boss gets here.”

  Jenner picked up the receiver on the hall phone and dialed a number. He returned it to the cradle almost immediately. “That was my number. Apparently I’m busy. Just like everybody else.”

  “Screwy country phones. If we were meant to live in trees we wouldn’t have invented chainsaws and asphalt.” Rowan peered into a room and finding it suitable made for the bed.

  Jenner started down the stairs. “First light is in about five hours. Be ready to go when I call you.”

  “I’d better be getting overtime for this shit,” Rowan said, and closed the door.

  Chico was also heading to bed.

  “Crash out anywhere you like,” Jenner told him. “Just keep an eye on Tad, will you.”

  Chico nodded. His throat was no longer red but it was still sore.

  Jenner made a coffee and carried it to the security room. The camera monitors were the same as ever. No movement on either side of the gate. He took the Remington from the gun locker and reloaded it with the same plastic-coated shells he’d removed a few hours before. There was a picture of geese on the shell box. High-density long-range birdshot.

  Short-range peopleshot.

  In the living room he stirred the fireplace embers and tossed on a log. A red glow, a wisp of smoke, then ignition. He settled into an armchair and pulled the Polaroids of Marjorie Dynes-Harrowport from his pocket. She would have been on this very rug facing him. And could be. With these pictures in his possession such things were possible.

  They were worth preserving so he went back to the kitchen and searched the drawers until he found a box of small freezer bags. Harrowport probably used them for keeping berries or filets of any fish he had caught. They were a good size for protecting the snapshots. Placing them back-to-back for easy viewing, he slipped the bag into the inside breast pocket of his suit. First the bag of cash. Now the pictures. This gig was improving all the time.

  He stopped by the full-length mirror in the foyer. His suit was of good quality but the pants and shirt needed pressing. He’d left his tie upstairs. Maybe when he went to get it, he’d borrow Harrowport’s shaving gear. And perhaps some of Harrowport’s clean clothes as well. Why not? If he was going to have the guy’s wife he may as well share his threads, too.

  The caffeine started to kick in and the upside was the same as the downside—it would keep him awake. Unless he found something to do this was going to be a long night. He picked up the Remington and went outside. It had rained just enough to make everything wet yet leave no puddles. Light reflecting off the rising mist created a grey dome over the house and down to the perimeter of the trees. Jenner walked toward the garage. He’d not been there since depositing his hostage, and wanted to see how she’d gotten free.

  The chair was by the workbench, the loose arm at an angle. The snips and cut wires were on the floor. From what he remembered, she had no shoes. After a few hours of trekking through the backcountry she’d be getting Fenn to carry her. Easy prey. Too bad they hadn’t brought the dogs.

  == == ==

  Jack Klaasen fit right in with the members of the Task Force. They’d strapped him into a Kevlar vest and given him a helmet and an earpiece. He couldn’t be part of the assault, of course, but he could listen in and would be allowed on the grounds as soon as it was deemed safe. If his daughter wasn’t immediately located, an armed officer would escort him wherever he wanted to search.

  Lareault checked his watch. Five-forty. In twenty minutes nautical twilight would signify the end of night. A half hour after that, civil twilight would make everything easily visible. He beckoned the ETF team leader into the Special-Ops trailer.

  “The wait is almost over, Captain. How are you situated?”

  “Delta team was swapped out twice through the night. The original team is now back on post. Of the four males known to be in the building, we believe one is injured. So far, we have not located the female hostage.”

  “Let’s assume she’s in the forest with Fenn. We’re committed to the incursion so what’s your plan of attack?”

  “We have snipers covering front and rear, and they’ll maintain position until we black out the security cameras and breach the gate. The team will move quickly down the driveway and gain entrance to the house. Whatever goes down after that will determine our response.”

  “And you’ll keep in mind that one of the four males is our guy, won’t you?”

  The captain grinned. “My guys know to just wing him.”

  Lareault grinned back. “Whoever wings him explains it to his wife.”

  “Aye, sir. I’ll pass that along.”

  CHAPTER 49

  Rowan smacked the back of Jenner’s chair and woke him up.

  “Thought you wanted an early start.”

  Jenner tried to cover. “I was just resting. What time is it?”

  “Nearly six. I’m just brewing coffee. Want one?”

  Jenner went to the window and peered out. It was still dark but wouldn’t be for long. “Only if it’s ready.”

  “Almost ready,” Rowan replied from the kitchen. “We’ve no food so I’ll give you extra sugar.” He rinsed out the mugs and waited for the carafe to fill.

  “Are Tad and Chico up?”

  “What?”

  Jenner came out of the washroom. “Are Chico and Tad awake?”

  “No. I thought I’d let them sleep. They both got beat up last night, and I don’t think Tad is in shape to do anything except go to a hospital. He doesn’t sound so good.”

  Jenner had to agree. “I’ll leave a note for Chico to take him to Orillia.” He went into the security office to look for a notepad. He glanced at the monitors. Nothing outside the gate. Nothing inside the gate. A guard’s job must be so boring.

  He found a pad and scratched a quick note, then decided to grab a few more shells for the shotgun. He dropped one and it rolled toward the desk. He caught it and straightened up, and that’s when he saw the flicker. The street side camera monitor had a moving shadow just on the left edge. A silhouette of a person with an arm extended. The arm went up and the screen went blank. Two seconds later and both screens were blank.

  Shit.

  “Rowan! We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Why?”

  “The gate has been breached—probably cops. Have you got keys to the ATV?”

  Rowan entered the foyer with one arm into his jacket, the lapel caught on his shoulder holster. “Yeah, I do. What about the guys upstairs?”

  “Chico! It’s a raid. Come on.” There was no response. Heavy footfalls could be heard on the back deck. Rowan opened the front door and ran down the steps to the ATV. Jenner stuffed the shells in his pocket and grabbed the shotgun. There was a crash and one of the glass doors by the deck shattered as he entered the foyer. Jenner turned and fired from the hip, shredding the blinds.

  Rowan had the ATV started. “Jenner! Hurry up.”

  Jenner ran to the hall closet and pulled out the attaché case. He tossed it into the back seat of the buggy.

  “What’s that?”

  “My pyjamas. Let’s go.” Jenner jumped into the passenger side and saw a red dot dancing on Rowan’s jacket. He swung the shotgun to the right and sent a hail of pellets into the bush. The dot disappeared and the buggy lurched forward, spitting gravel from its back wheels. Gunshots came from the driveway in the direction of the gate and headlights flashed on the side of the house. Rowan steered between the trees at the entrance to the trail, then the ATV’s motor sputtered and stopped.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m not doing anything. It just stopped.”

  “Well start it.” There was a clang and whine as a bullet ricocheted off the rollbar. The motor kicked in and the buggy lurched again the
n began to pick up speed. Bullets whipped passed them and Jenner tried to fold his bulk lower than the seatback for protection. Rowan hunched over the steering wheel and tap danced on the gas pedal trying to keep the engine from stalling again.

  “What’s the matter with this thing?”

  “I don’t know. It started missing on the way back, last night.”

  “Has it got gas?”

  “Half a tank.”

  “Go faster.”

  “If I go too fast it’ll stall.”

  “At this junction, go right.”

  “I was going to go right. Christ, who’s driving this thing, me or you?”

  They made the curve, which gave them some shelter from gunfire. Jenner sat up and reloaded the shotgun. Rowan found that at three-quarter throttle, the ATV would trundle along at a steady rate. More or less.

  “Do you know where this trail goes?”

  “No. Do you?”

  “No.”

  == == ==

  Huddled beneath the blanket, Fenn and Kim had been warm enough if not entirely comfortable. Their sleep had been light and sporadic. A single bird chirped somewhere nearby and Fenn knew it signaled a half hour to the first glimmer of sunrise. His ass was numb. He had to stand up.

  “Kim.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Time to move.”

  “’kay.” She leaned forward and he eased himself from behind her.

  Oh, man. The parts that were sore last night were stiff this morning. He cranked the flashlight and located the water bottles. The water was really cold although the grit had settled. There was a large raisin and nut chocolate bar in the pack. He offered it to Kim.

  “The espresso machine is busted and the breakfast chef called in sick, so if the limo’s late I’m going to be really pissed.”

  “Don’t talk to me about limos.”

  Oops. Way to go, Fenn.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Kim sat on a bench and finger-combed her hair.

  “Tired. Okay, I guess.”

  “Today’s the day it ends.”

  “I hope so.” No emotion.