Peridale Cafe Mystery 20 - Cocktails and Cowardice

by Agatha Frost

  “Have I killed him?” Percy cried, letting the kettle fall from his hands onto the tiled floor. “Dorothy?”

  “I don’t even think you broke the skin,” she said as she checked the back of Rafa’s head for blood. “He won’t be out for long. We need to move quickly.”

  Dot reached underneath his leather jacket and pulled the gun from his belt. Like the gun she’d fired during the play, assuming it was a prop, its weight surprised her. She tucked it into the back waistband of her skirt and pulled her blouse over it, hoping she wouldn’t need to use it.

  As discussed, Percy busied himself by tying Rafa’s hands and legs with pre-ripped strips from a pair of hideous tracksuit bottoms. The boy moved like a ragdoll, looking younger still.

  “Should we gag him?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Dorothy?” Percy clicked his fingers in front of her face when he’d finished. “The boy? Should we gag him so he can’t scream for help.”

  But Dot didn’t answer, so Percy took it upon himself to wrap another strip around Rafa’s mouth. The fabric slipped between his teeth as Percy fastened it behind his head.

  “We need to get a shake on,” Percy said as she rushed past her to the window. “Like you said, it won’t be long until the lad wakes up, and I wouldn’t bet on either of us outrunning him if it came down to it.”

  Dot nodded, unable to look away from the boy.

  “I wish we could help him.”

  “Help him?” Percy ripped the bars from the crumbling plaster with one firm tug. “He chased us through a market and locked us up. Working for someone else or not, he’s one of the bad guys.”

  Dot nodded that she understood, but it wasn’t that simple. Was this how Julia had felt when she’d caught Jessie stealing from her café as a wayward, homeless sixteen-year-old girl? Dot, and many others, had been critical of Julia for taking in a petty criminal, but Jessie’s growth in the years since had proven everyone wrong. Rafa, like Jessie, was a victim of circumstance.

  “Dorothy?”

  Percy tugged the lamp from the wall and tossed it through the single-pane window. The glass shattered outwards on impact.

  “Now or never, remember?”

  “I know.”

  But she still couldn’t move.

  “Dorothy?”

  Nothing.

  “Your family need you.”

  Dot snapped back to reality, the reminder of her family all she’d needed to get her moving. Knocking Rafa out and escaping had always been Plan A. She’d offered him another option by presenting Plan B first. She’d desperately hoped he would take it.

  “Get your teeth back in,” she ordered, her spine stiffening. “You look gormless without them.”

  “Right you are, dear.”

  Dot hurried back into the living area. She shut the front door, which Rafa had left wide open. During their afternoon planning session, Percy had suggested that they flee through the front and save having to smash the window, but Dot had dismissed the idea. Just because she hadn’t seen any cameras on their brief walk around the clearing didn’t mean they weren’t there. She didn’t want to risk anyone or anything witnessing their flight. The less their captors knew, the more likely it was that she and Percy could make a clean escape.

  “Dorothy?” Percy called from the bedroom. “I’m ready.”

  As she turned away from the door, the chocolate caught her eye once again. She scooped it up, guilt still writhing sickly in her stomach. Back in the bedroom, she placed the bar on Rafa’s softly rising and falling chest.

  “For when he wakes up,” Dot explained to Percy, already waiting by the empty window. “To help with the shock.”

  Dot got a shock of her own when Rafa’s mobile phone rang loudly in his jacket pocket. It vibrated its way out, sliding onto the mangled bedsheets. Rafa stirred, his neutral expression regaining some tension around the brows.

  “Shut it up!” Percy hissed.

  “I-I don’t know how!” Dot picked up the phone, staring at the screen. “What does ‘El Comprador’ mean?”

  Percy snatched the phone off the bed and dropped it onto the floor. He scooped up the kettle and smashed it down until the screen cracked and turned black. He kicked it under the bed.

  “What did you do that for?” Dot slapped his arm. “We could have used it to call the police!”

  “It’s your plan, dear. I’ve caught the smashing bug.” He yanked her over to the window. He’d knocked out as much of the glass as he could and laid the tracksuit’s matching jacket along the bottom edge of the frame. “Let’s not dilly or dally for a moment longer. Now, we need this bed by the window.”

  Snapping back into the plan, Dot helped Percy drag the bed she’d slept in up to the window. It hit just under the frame, making it easy for her to shuffle through. She landed on her feet, the glass shards and dried up dirt soft underfoot.

  “He’s really stirring now,” Percy said as he crawled across the bed. “I don’t trust my knotting skills enough to guarantee he won’t get out of them, given enough time.”

  Unlike Dot, Percy chose to go through the frame head-first rather than feet-first. She scooped her arms under his and dragged him out like a mother would her child. As more of his body slid through the window, the heavier her short, plump husband felt.

  Gravity took hold, and Percy’s weight dragged Dot backwards. She yanked Percy through the window as she went. The jacket protecting them from the glass slid with him. Fabric tore as they tumbled into the dark forest. With both arms wrapped around Percy, Dot was unable to stop the momentum, and she landed with a soft thud on the forest floor, twigs poking her in her behind.

  “Are you alright, dear?” Percy asked, rolling off her.

  “A little winded.” Dot sat upright, wincing through the sharp pain in the middle of her back. “Are you hurt?”

  She used a nearby tree trunk to pull herself upright, immediately extending a hand to help Percy. Instead of reaching for her, his hand wandered down to his right shin, where a large rip had appeared in his cream trousers.

  “Must have caught it on the glass.” He pulled his fingers out of the tear, and she could see blood on his fingertips even in the dark. “It’s just a scratch.”

  “Percy?”

  “It’s just a scratch,” he repeated, accepting Dot’s helping hand after wiping the blood on his trousers; she tried not to stare at the stain. “Not to worry. Let’s get moving.”

  Dot took one last look through the window into the bedroom. Rafa was still tied on the bed, but he’d started groaning, not too dissimilar from the noises Percy had been making when he’d feigned illness.

  “I think you might have a touch of the Stockholm syndrome, dear,” Percy whispered, pulling Dot away from the window.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped back, feeling her cheeks heat up. “Let’s get to that road and get out of here.”

  Keeping to the safety of the forest’s edge, they walked around the perimeter of the large clearing and found the opening exactly where Dot had expected to find it. It was a simple two-lane road, one side going further up the mountain and the other heading down.

  “Would you look at that view,” Percy said when they broke through the treeline and onto the road. “Not bad, eh?”

  The road curved around at the bottom, the trees breaking to give a clear view all the way out to the coast. The bright moon reflected in the sea, lighting up a strip of water in the dark.

  “Not bad at all,” she replied, allowing herself a single relieved sigh. “We’re not too far.”

  “What now?”

  “We wait for a car to pass.” Dot walked to the edge of the road and looked in both silent directions. “One should be along soon.”

  Less than five minutes passed before Dot’s theory was confirmed. A car appeared at the top of the road. They both jumped up and down, waving their arms, even pausing for a celebratory hug, but the car drove right past them.

  “Rude!” Dot cried. “Didn’t th
ey see us on the news?”

  “Perhaps not.”

  “I’m sure another will be along soon.”

  Once again, Dot was correct. Another car passed, and another, and another. None stopped. One even went as far as swerving into the opposite lane when Dot attempted to force them to stop.

  “It’s been ten minutes since the last one,” Dot remarked after checking her watch. “How’s your leg?”

  “Oh, it’s fine.” Percy waved a dismissive hand. “Are you suggesting we walk?”

  “I don’t see what other option we have.”

  “Right you are, dear.” Percy wrapped his hand around hers. “We’ve come this far. Might as well keep going. Who knows, there might be a little town around the corner where we can call for help.”

  “If only you hadn’t smashed that phone.”

  Percy chuckled. “That was rather silly of me.”

  They walked for fifteen minutes, finding the downward incline kinder than the upward would have been. No little town appeared – just more twisting road and occasional breaks in the treeline to reveal the coast, which grew no closer. Dot could have walked faster alone, but Percy’s glacial walking speed was even slower than usual.

  “I hear another engine,” Percy said, slowing to a halt. “Shall we give it another go?”

  They turned towards the steep road they’d just walked down, but the sound grew closer from behind. A pickup truck turned the bend, its headlights blinding them. To Dot’s absolute relief, the driver slowed down even before she had a chance to wave.

  “It’s going the wrong way,” Percy whispered.

  “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

  The truck, with empty livestock cages filling the back, slowed to a halt right beside them. The passenger window rolled down, and a man in a cap ducked to look out at them.

  “Everything okay?” he asked in a blessedly familiar accent.

  “You’re British!” Dot let out a sigh of relief. “Please, sir, can you help us? We’ve found ourselves in a tricky situation. We were taken, and—”

  “I know you two!” he cried. “Saw your faces on the news, I did!”

  His accent was so neutral, Dot couldn’t quite place it to a specific part of the UK

  “You did?” Dot smiled from ear to ear. “Oh, thank God!”

  “There’s posters all over Savega too!” he said. “What are you doing up here in the mountains at this time of night?”

  “It’s a long story,” she said. “We’re trying to get back to Savega, and so far, you’re the only person who has stopped. We were wondering if you could—”

  “Get in,” he said, nodding at the door to the back seats. “I’ve just come from Savega, and I’m heading back after this delivery. It’s not a long round trip. Forty minutes, maximum.”

  Forty minutes or not, Dot didn’t need asking twice. She climbed in, shuffling over to make space for Percy. He winced as he climbed in, sending Dot’s eyes down to his leg. Blood had soaked through the cream fabric.

  “Percy, your—”

  “It’s fine,” he repeated, slamming the door. “We’ve been through worse these last few days. Let’s just focus on getting home.”

  Percy was rarely short with her, so she didn’t push him further. The driver set off, and they sat in silence for a few minutes against the backdrop of the noisy chickens.

  Dot was too overwhelmed to speak.

  For the first time in days, she felt safe.

  “You two must have been through hell,” the driver said, glancing at Dot in the rear-view mirror, only his eyes visible.

  “You have no idea.”

  “Your family have been worried sick.”

  “They have?” Dot sat up straight. “You’ve seen them?”

  “Oh, yes,” he replied. “They’ve been handing out posters all over Savega. Pregnant woman?”

  “That’s Julia!” Dot patted Percy’s knee. “Did you hear that? They’ve been looking for us.”

  “I didn’t doubt it for a moment,” he said, offering a weak smile.

  “In fact,” the driver said, reaching across to the glove compartment, “I think I have one here.”

  He passed back a sheet of paper that had been folded multiple times. Dot unravelled it, surprised to see the same picture from the news surrounded by both English and Spanish writing. She recognised Julia’s mobile number as the contact information.

  “Don’t suppose they’ll have to pay the ransom now,” the driver said, looking through the mirror again. “That’ll be a relief for them.”

  “Ransom?” Dot fired back. “We were being held ransom?”

  “One hundred thousand euros.”

  “Bloody hell!” She looked back down at the missing poster. “How did you know about the ransom?”

  “It’s on the poster.”

  “No, it isn’t.” Dot scanned it again. “It just says we’re missing. It doesn’t say anything about a ransom on here.”

  “Must have heard it on the news then.”

  Dot glanced at the mirror again, but his eyes were firmly on the road ahead this time. Considering that Dot didn’t speak Spanish, she had no way of knowing what the news report had been about, but she hadn’t remembered seeing any numbers on the screen indicating the price on their heads.

  “How far are we from the delivery drop off?” Dot asked, checking her watch; it was almost eleven.

  “Oh, not much further.” He glanced in the mirror again, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “In fact, it’s just up here.”

  Dot’s heart skipped several beats as they turned right into the trees onto an eerily familiar road. She nudged Percy, but he wasn’t paying any attention. He was leaning as far forward as he could to clutch his shin.

  “Lucky I found you when I did,” the driver said as he turned into the all too familiar clearing. “Much longer, and somebody might actually have stopped to take you back.”

  Dot yanked on the handles, but the doors were locked.

  “You won’t get out,” he said, looking through the mirror again; she felt his smirk even though she couldn’t see it. “Child locks are a marvellous invention, don’t you think?”

  “Who are you?”

  “That doesn’t matter.” The car stopped, and he killed the engine. “Now, time to make that delivery.”

  Knowing she was missing far too many pieces of the puzzle, Dot reacted instead of thinking. She pulled the gun from the back of her skirt and pointed it shakily at the driver.

  “I’ll shoot!” she cried.

  “You won’t.”

  “I’ve done it before!” She tried to steady the gun, but it was like trying to stiffen cooked spaghetti. “I’m warning you.”

  The driver laughed and tugged the keys from the ignition. Using the little experience gained from rehearsing with the prop gun and then firing the real one during the play, she cocked the hammer and tilted the gun up at the roof of the car. She pulled the trigger to fire a warning shot.

  The gun clicked.

  No recoil.

  No bullet.

  The driver laughed again, jumping out and slamming the car door. Dot tried the handle over and over, but like the gun, the door did nothing. She looked back at the gun, wondering if she’d done something wrong. She pushed on the side of the cylinder, and it fell open with ease.

  Six empty chambers.

  No bullets.

  The door to the villa opened, and Rafa stumbled out, free of his restraints. He had one hand on his head, but both went up when he saw the driver marching towards him. His hands did little to protect his face from the punches.

  “Percy?” she called, nudging him. “Percy, we need to get out of here.”

  “Right you are, dear,” he said wearily, pulling his blood-soaked hand from his shin. “It’s just, this might not be just a scratch, after all.”

  15

  JULIA

  J ulia sank her toes into the warm sand, leaned back on the wooden jetty, and closed her eyes. The hot mornin
g sun caressed her cheeks in a way the sun back home never did. Cold ice cream dripped down her hand, continued to the point of the cone, and landed in small droplets on her foot.

  “How’s yours?” Jessie asked, already half-finished her four scoops of chocolate ice cream wedged into a large waffle cone. “Ice cream never tastes this good at home.”

  “I think it’s the weather.” Julia licked her more modest selection: one scoop of vanilla and another of butterscotch on a classic cone. “It’s delicious.”

  At the edge of the golden sand on the cleanest beach Julia had ever seen in person, the turquoise Mediterranean Sea stretched out all the way to the northern tip of Africa. On a map, they appeared so close, yet the horizon offered no glimpse of the land beyond it.

  Some small paddle boats and other larger liners, no doubt carrying tourists, dotted the water. People parasailed and surfed. One group was even being dragged behind a speedboat on a giant inflatable banana.

  Julia licked more melting ice cream from her fingers, avoiding the scoops to prolong the pleasure. Until the final bite of the cone, she got to be on holiday like everyone else.

  But Jessie finished before Julia had even reached the top of the cone, and the slower Julia ate, the more she felt Jessie’s eagerness to get back to handing out posters. Reluctantly, Julia bit her way to the bottom of the cone.

  “Should we go and put our feet in the water?” Jessie suggested, clearly sensing Julia’s reluctance.

  “No,” Julia replied quickly, already dusting the sand from her toes. “The water will only make the sand stick. I’ve had my fill. I’m ready to get back.”

  Jessie helped Julia up off the jetty, and they put their sandals back on. Against the backdrop of the tree-dense mountains sprinkled with white buildings and terracotta roofs, they carried on handing out missing posters along the seafront.

  If the posters hadn’t led to Maria recognising Dot and Percy and giving Julia the photo album, she might have started to believe they were a waste of time. With each passing day, handing them out increasingly felt like a fool’s errand. Half the people who might have seen something had probably already flown home, and the other half were too busy stocking up on cheap fake-designer clothes to notice anything else.