The Charlton Affair

by MJ Doherty

  Michael’s red Audi was in one of the first spaces, clearly visible to the street. The green Nissan Maxima was a few vehicles down, visible only once she rounded the corner at the rear of the double story building. It was missing a taillight. She found a place to park under a tree behind several other vehicles. After sinking down low she held up a small mirror so that she could see the rear door of the building. Within moments, Briggs emerged and got into the Maxima. Still ducking down, she started the car and waited for him to turn the corner before she pulled out.

  Just as she pulled back out of her space, Michael emerged from the rear door. Urgently, she gestured for him to get into her car. Looking incredibly surprised, he jumped in.

  “Get down! Hide,” she hissed at him urgently, as she drove off quickly. He ducked down low in the passenger seat. She saw a vehicle in the distance with only one taillight, turning left. Quickly she caught up to it and tailed it carefully as it drove northbound.

  Michael moved uncomfortably.

  “Stay down,” she said, “We’re not far behind him now. I don’t want him to see you.”

  He nodded.

  “What happened?”

  Michael told her about the meeting with Stillman. When he was finished, she said, “Call the police, tell them what we’re doing and where we are.”

  He dialed the emergency number. Amanda listened as he tried to get put through to someone who knew something about the investigation. It took ages. She tried not to be distracted as she followed Stillman down Rode Road. She slowed to allow some distance between them. He turned onto a side street and then down several more. She adroitly followed him, pulling up immediately behind a vehicle when she saw him slowing down. She watched the Nissan pulling into a driveway further down the street.

  Michael was finally speaking to someone involved in the investigation. Amanda could hear him explaining where they were and what they were doing. When he had given them the location clearly, she reached over and took the phone from him, ending the call.

  “We have to put our phones on silent or leave them here,” Amanda explained.

  When he realizing what she intended to do, he baulked, “He’ll kill us both!”

  “We’re her only chance, Michael. If we don’t get her out, she’ll die.”

  “I know,” he said shuddering in fear and horror, rooted to the spot.

  Amanda reached under her seat and grabbed a tire iron she always kept handy.

  With her other hand she handed him her phone.

  “If you’re not coming, call Charlie and tell her where we are.”

  She closed her car door and walked off down the street. She knew what she had to do, with or without him.

  *****

  Poulsen took down the details about the Nissan’s infringements coming through the police radio. Sally would want the information, especially the registered address for the Nissan. Sally was on her phone, pacing up and down the footpath outside the Wilston Wellness Center. Phillips was just coming out of the Center’s front door.

  Suddenly Sally ended her call and cried out to Phillips. He came running and both of them jumped in the car.

  “What?” Poulsen asked.

  “He’s got her at a house in Chermside West,” Sally answered as Phillips threw the vehicle into motion and they hurtled off down the street. Sally flipped the switch for the lights and sirens as Phillips picked up the speed.

  Poulsen buckled her seat belt.

  She muttered to herself as she hung on tightly, “Guess they don’t need that infringement information...”

  *****

  Amanda couldn’t see into the old weatherboard house. Trees and ferns formed a dense privacy screen at the front of the property and the windows all had closed curtains. The garage roller door was shut.

  She moved to the next property along. It was open fronted and she could see all the way down the six-foot tall timber fence separating the two properties. With no time for niceties, she strode down the fence line, trespassing until she got to a spot that corresponded with the back of Stillman’s house.

  After stepping up onto the first railing, she placed her hands on top of the fence and pulled herself up to see over. Suddenly she heard someone approaching. She looked down behind her and was relieved to see Michael. Grateful he’d found his nerve, she gestured for him to jump up next to her.

  Together they examined the view into Stillman’s back yard. His yard was well treed and fully fenced. They could see the old house with the attached garage. There were a number of ground floor windows, all of them with security bars. No one was in sight.

  There was nothing for it but to go over. After stepping back down down she grabbed the tire iron and dropped it over the fence before hoisting herself back up and over. He followed and they ran over to the back of the garage to a sheltered area where they would not be visible from the house. Crouching, Amanda carefully ducked as she scrambled around the corner to a spot just under the first window. Michael followed her. From their position under the window, they rose slowly and peered inside. It was an empty room. Continuing along they did the same at the next window.

  It was a larger window. When they looked inside, they saw a lounge room. Amanda saw movement. Stillman was in there, on the telephone, pacing. They ducked quickly back down and moved further along until they came to a doorway. After slipping past it quickly, they passed the next lounge window and came to the last window. Michael’s head popped up first and he nearly cried out when he saw Phoebe inside, tied to the bed. Her jaw opened when she saw him, a piece of tape flapped, stuck to her upper lip, but she made no sound. Amanda yanked him back down with her and made sure he was looking at her. She held her finger to her lips, eyeing him sternly. He nodded, clearly still shaken.

  She carefully led him back to the doorway, stopping to check at the other lounge window on the way. Stillman was nowhere in sight. Knowing they were out of time, she whispered, “The cops will be here soon, all we have to do is distract him until they get here.”

  *****

  Charlie ran frantically to the hospital car park. She jumped into her Lexus and left the car park as quickly as she could. She broke the speed limit along with a swath of other traffic laws as she pushed the Lexus to its limits. The address Michael had left on her phone message-bank was at least anther five minutes away, even at the speed she was doing. She ran another red light as she turned into Rode Road, praying desperately for Phoebe, and for Amanda and Michael’s survival.

  *****

  Amanda and Michael heard a blood-curdling scream. Michael recognized Phoebe’s voice and wrenched the rear security door open in a panic to get to her. Amanda shoved him out of the way and tried to break the main door lock with the iron. Nothing happened. Michael grabbed it and added his weight to her thrust. With a massive heave, they shoved hard. The lock broke and the door swung open violently. They both rushed inside.

  When they were only a few steps into the lounge, Stillman appeared, running at them. Stillman pulled up quickly when he saw the raised tire iron in Amanda’s hands.

  Michael yelled out, “Phoebe! We’re here! We’re coming!”

  Stillman roared, “Shut your trap, Jefferson!”

  Michael roared back, “You shut up. You fucking scum! You’re not my brother.”

  Phoebe cried out, “In here, I’m in here!”

  Amanda stepped forward with the iron raised threateningly. Stillman instinctively stepped back. Michael took advantage of the distraction to circle around him toward the rear bedroom. Amanda maintained eye contact with Stillman. She could feel the power of his intense concentration on her. She moved from foot to foot, holding the raised tire iron in readiness. Although her face didn’t betray it, she was cursing the instinct that had made her act so decisively. Warily eyeing his massive bulk, she desperately prayed for the police to come quickly.

  Stillman circled, trying to get past her guard. She adjusted her position every time he moved. At last, the wail of sirens keened in the dis
tance. Amanda let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

  Stillman finally made his move and lunged at her. Automatically, she swung at him. She was too slow. With cat-like grace and speed he grabbed the iron, wrenching it from her hands.

  He chuckled as he raised the iron high and smilingly said, “Your turn, bitch.”

  She moved away as quickly as she could, but she knew she was no match for him. Suddenly Michael came toward them at a run. He tackled his brother’s back, crashing Stillman into her and bringing them all down in a heap.

  Stillman was quick to react. He grabbed Michael and rolled him over, taking him in a wrestling style lock. Stillman held his neck at a painful angle. Amanda dived for the tire iron. Michael groaned in pain as Stillman applied steady pressure.

  As she held the heavy iron threateningly above his head, Amanda made sure Stillman could see her.

  “Let him go, or I’ll do it,” she threatened.

  “Drop it or I’ll break his neck,” Stillman replied with calm menace.

  The sirens became louder.

  Stillman emphasized his point by shaking Michael like a cat toying with its prey. Michael’s face contorted in agony. Amanda could see him struggling to breath as he writhed helplessly.

  Charlie’s voice yelled out from the doorway, startling them all.

  “Let him go, you fucker. You’ve got no chance! The police will be here any second.”

  Charlie ran to Amanda’s side and kicked Stillman in the back. He hardly reacted to her blow. Amanda waved the tire iron purposefully at Stillman.

  Abruptly the sirens stopped. Car doors slammed. Someone bashed loudly on the door, and voices could be heard shouting, “Open up! Police!”

  Amanda heard Charlie gasp. Then she saw a shape coming towards them in the background but the thunderous crashing of the front door being broken down distracted her.

  Stillman took advantage of the distraction to intensify his grip on Michael’s neck. Sensing Stillman’s sudden movement, Amanda instinctively brought the tire iron down in a wild swing at him. Avoiding her blow with amazing speed, Stillman wrenched Michael to the side. Amanda heard the sickening crunch as Michael’s neck snapped. The iron connected with one of Stillman’s enormous shoulders and he screamed in pain and jerked back, dropping Michael’s unmoving body.

  A barrage of running footsteps thundered down the hall as Stillman shoved Michael’s limp weight away and leapt up, undeterred. Amanda, still grasping the iron, swung and brought it down again as hard as she could. Stillman propelled himself forward with such speed that the iron only hit his massive arm in a glancing blow. He yelled in pain, but the blow didn’t distract him. Turning to get past her, he faced the open back door, and began to run. Charlie tried to stop him up but he swatted her aside like a fly and she went crashing into the coffee table, several meters away.

  Suddenly something came at Stillman from behind, screaming like a banshee. Amanda was utterly amazed to see Phoebe leap at Stillman, clutching a large kitchen knife in both hands. She sailed through the air in an all out dive and sunk the knife deeply into the back of Stillman’s thigh.

  Roaring in agony he spun toward his assailant. Incredibly quickly, he reached down and grabbed Phoebe’s neck in his massive hands and dragged her up brutally. The knife come out of his leg and clattered to the floor as he moved. He wrenched her upwards by the neck.

  Charlie screamed “Noo!”

  She launched herself at him again, using her small fists to bash ineffectively against his massive chest. Phoebe choked, her hands desperately grasping and scratching at his. Blood welled and pumped out of his leg. Amanda watched in amazement as Charlie brought her knee up hard and fast into Stillman’s crotch.

  Stillman dropped Phoebe in shock at the blow and bent over. Despite his pain, he managed to clutch Charlie’s shoulders in an iron grip and held her in front of him as he groaned.

  “Stop! Or we’ll shoot!” An authoritative voice barked harshly at him.

  Amanda looked up to see Middleton and Phillips and another police officer in the hall and lounge with their weapons drawn, all trained at Stillman’s head.

  Stillman faced them. Holding Charlie in front of him like a shield, he challenged them, “I’ll kill her. Put the guns down. Now!”

  Amanda didn’t hesitate. She swung as hard as she could. This time the iron hit the back of his head with a satisfying thunk. He dropped like a stone, releasing Charlie as he fell.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Charlie sat in the front of the ambulance on the ride to the hospital from the crime scene. Her mind repeated over and over what the paramedics had told her. We’ve intubated her and placed her in an induced coma so the damage can be properly assessed when we get there. She kept glancing back into the cabin, only to see Phoebe, supine and still, in a plastic collar with a tube coming out of her mouth. She stifled her panic, telling herself that the health professionals knew what they were doing. He chest felt tight when she remembered seeing Phoebe regain consciousness at Stillman’s house only to be unable to breath properly. Thank God the ambulance arrived in time. Charlie hadn’t properly processed the fact that Michael was dead and Stillman was in custody. All she could focus on was Phoebe’s survival. They arrived soon and Charlie was relegated to the Emergency Department waiting room.

  Charlie paced anxiously. After fifteen minutes, Charlie desperately begged for information from the triage nurse.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t let you in and there’s nothing I can tell you yet. They have to assess her. Maybe in half an hour or so…,” the nurse replied sympathetically.

  Unable to stand the waiting, she continued to pace. Suddenly she realized Roman was still upstairs with Mark. He should know about Phoebe. She left the waiting room and ran across the large foyer to the lift bank. Impatiently, she pressed the buttons to go up. She burst out of the lift as soon as the doors opened and ran to the ICU. Doing her best to control her pace inside the artificially quiet environment, she quickly found Roman at Mark’s bedside.

  Charlie hurriedly told him, “Phoebe’s alive. She’s downstairs now, in the Emergency Department.”

  “Oh my God!” Roman exclaimed. “Is she going to be OK?”

  Charlie’s face fell, “I don’t know,” she sobbed, “he strangled her until she went unconscious…”

  Horrified by the news, Roman stood and held her. She sobbed against his chest.

  “What happened?” Roman asked gently.

  Through her tears, Charlie replied, “Amanda and Michael followed him. They rescued Phoebe. But… he killed Michael and nearly killed Phoebe. Amanda knocked him out with a tire iron. The police have him now.”

  Roman stared down at her in utter shock.

  “Poor Michael,” he said, devastated.

  She nodded in agreement and then her expression hardened and she stated grimly, “I wish Amanda had killed the bastard.”

  Charlie clenched her jaw in anger, contemplating all the damage Stillman had done. Roman looked at his beloved Mark, still unconscious, a machine assisting him to breathe, and then nodded at her in agreement.

  Soothingly, he said, “It’s over now. They have him. I’ll come down with you for a few minutes.”

  He leaned over and kissed Mark’s cheek lovingly before they headed down to the Emergency Department together. They spent another twenty minutes in the waiting room before they were allowed in to see Phoebe. A police officer had joined them. He accompanied them when they were finally led into her cube.

  Roman and Charlie gasped when they saw her lying still, hooked up to lots of beeping machines. They had taken the collar off her neck and Charlie was alarmed to see the angry red marks and swollen skin covering Phoebe’s neck and jawline. She still had a large plastic tube coming out of her mouth, just like Mark did. With silent tears falling, Charlie reached out and brushed her fingers across Phoebe’s pale cheek before kissing her forehead gently. Roman held Phoebe’s hand.

  A doctor explained the situation. Pho
ebe had regained consciousness but had suffered extreme difficulty breathing. The paramedics placed her in an induced coma and intubated her. The tube was to stop her airway from becoming fully blocked off by the swollen tissues, which had been traumatized by the strangulation. They had to leave it in until she could breath safely on her own. She would be admitted to the ICU as soon as a bed was available. They weren’t sure how long she would have to remain tubed. It depended on the scan results and how quickly she responded to treatment.

  Charlie overheard the police officer quietly telling the doctor that with no prospect of obtaining a statement from Phoebe anytime soon, there was no use in him staying. A nurse ushered Charlie and Roman out of the busy department, telling them they would be notified when she was sent upstairs for admission to the ICU. For now, they had to return to the waiting area. Roman took Charlie’s hand and gently led her back upstairs with him. Heartsick, neither of them spoke during the journey back up to Mark’s bedside.

  *****

  Sally sat in the Inspector’s office with Phillips and Poulsen.

  “Would have been more satisfying if you’d shot the bastard,” Inspector Marsh grumbled, reflecting on the events three days ago in West Chermside.

  All three of them nodded in agreement, Phillips more enthusiastically than the two women.

  Phillips said, “I wanted to, sir, but Charlie Moss was too close for me to risk it.”

  “Scum like that deserves to die.” He replied moodily. Brightening, he added, “Still, the woman survived, and we’ve got him for his brother’s murder. That will have to be a plea of guilty for sure.”

  “Actually sir, he could plead a defense of insanity at trial,” Poulsen piped up.

  Marsh’s expression soured. Ignoring her comment, he continued, “He’ll probably want to contest the Sanchez murder. And we know from Jessop he admitted all the other murders to Michael.”