The Killing Moon

by A. S. French

  ‘What are you whispering about?’ Cope’s confidence hadn’t vanished, even with her current predicament. ‘Are you arguing about who will be in charge?’

  She’d made herself comfortable on the sofa, legs crossed as if waiting to be served in a restaurant.

  ‘Where’s Alex?’ Astrid said.

  Cope arched her eyebrows. ‘Alex, Alex.’ She licked her bottom lip. ‘I don’t know anyone by that name.’

  Astrid balled her fingers into a fist. ‘I could kill you right now, Jules. I’d torture you first if I didn’t think you’d enjoy it, but I will finish you, and no one will ever know.’

  ‘You’re wrong, Astrid. Officer Crowley would know. And I don’t think it would sit well on her conscience.’ Cope smirked at her colleague. ‘Would it, Grace?’

  ‘Smile all you want, Cope, but you’ll be behind bars soon enough.’

  ‘What will you charge me with?’

  ‘Kidnapping, torture, murder. There’ll be plenty to choose from.’

  ‘On what evidence? You have nothing apart from my skirmish with Snow. And that was only a lover’s tiff, wasn’t it, Astrid?’

  Astrid reached down and dragged Cope up by her shirt before forcing her into the wall. The strength of it knocked a framed Klimt print onto the floor. The glass cracked and scattered at her feet.

  ‘Tell me what you did to Alex and the others, Jules.’

  Grace grabbed Astrid’s shoulder and pulled her off the Detective. ‘Let’s get her to the station, and we’ll interrogate her.’

  Astrid shrugged her off and glared at Cope, her hackles raised by that constant grin.

  ‘I won’t say anything, either here or at the station. But I’ll show you.’

  ‘What?’ Astrid and Grace said together.

  ‘I can take you where she is, but only Astrid; not you, Crowley.’

  Grace shook her head. ‘There’s no chance of that. You and Wylie will tell us everything in an interrogation room.’

  The laughter came from Cope’s eyes first, in the way they expanded and her pupils sparkled, before travelling down her cheeks and exploding from her mouth.

  ‘As I said earlier, girls, you have no evidence against either me or Pete. But I’m feeling sorry for Snow, so I’ll show her what she’s looking for, but only her.’

  Astrid placed her hand on Grace’s arm. ‘Even if we do get something from them at the station, it might take too long. They could have Alex restrained somewhere, in pain and suffering.’ She stared at Cope. ‘Is Alex alive?’

  Cope used her handcuffed hands to straighten her shirt. ‘As far as I know, she is.’ She twisted the manacles to glance at her watch. ‘But time is ticking.’

  Grace clutched the phone in her fingers, peering at her partner as Astrid waited for a response.

  ‘You can’t trust her.’

  ‘I know, but it’s the only option we have of finding Alex. We owe it to her mother and her, and all the others these two psychos hurt and killed. If they have Alex imprisoned somewhere, other kids could be there, and evidence of Cope and Wylie’s crimes in Angel Springs.’

  Those words were all it took to convince Grace. ‘Okay, but I don’t like it.’ She shook her phone at Astrid. ‘You need to keep in touch with me and make sure you stay safe.’

  ‘I promise to do both.’ Astrid stepped across the room and opened the top drawer near the TV. She removed Detective Cope’s police revolver and checked it was loaded. ‘This will suffice.’ She grabbed Cope by the arm and lugged her towards the door. ‘You get Wylie in a cell, and I’ll see you soon.’

  The night bit at her as she shoved Cope into the street. It was the type of cold that gets under the skin and reaches into the bones.

  Cope rattled the cuffs as she shivered. ‘Would you like me to drive?’

  Astrid pushed her forward. ‘Where’s your car?’

  She nodded across the road at a blue Toyota. ‘The keys are in my right trouser pocket, but I can’t reach them.’ She held up her cuffed hands. Astrid strode towards her, Cope’s gun in one hand as she used the other to get the keys. Cope squirmed as she did so. ‘Oh, Astrid, this brings back so many happy memories.’

  Astrid clutched on to the keys and shoved Cope forward. They got into the front seat, with Astrid behind the wheel.

  ‘Tell me where Alex is, Jules, or I’ll drive into the woods and blow your brains out.’

  There was no emotion in her voice or expression, just cold determination filling her eyes. Cope rubbed at the palm of her hand through the cuffs.

  ‘Can you remember how to get to Jed Fowler’s place?’

  Astrid slammed the brakes on, the car screeching to a halt on an empty street.

  ‘Senator Brady’s nephew?’

  ‘That’s the guy. You’ve met him, right?’ Cope gave an exaggerated shiver. ‘He even gives me the creeps.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘And that house he lives in.’

  ‘That’s where Alex is?’

  ‘You know what happened to her at Brady’s place, with those Future Youth nut-jobs?’

  ‘I’ve seen the video of what they did to her. What’s your involvement in this?’

  ‘Fowler followed her after they let her go from the mansion. Then he snatched Alex as she left Manny’s cabin and took her back to his house.’

  I’d stared into Fowler’s eyes and believed what he told me, convinced he had nothing to do with Alex’s disappearance. Were my instincts wrong from the start?

  ‘How do you know this?’

  ‘You know Fowler is into S&M, right?’ Astrid nodded. ‘I met him in a club one night in New York, recognising him as Brady’s nephew, so I cultivated a friendship with him and discovered how similar our interests are.’

  ‘Sado-masochistic sex?’

  She pursed her lips. ‘Torture and killing. Inflicting pain on others purely for pleasure is quite a bonding agent in the right circumstances. I recognised that in you as well.’

  ‘We’ve nothing in common, and you know it. If you knew Fowler had imprisoned Alex, why didn’t you do something about it?’

  Cope rolled her eyes. ‘What did I care about the girl? I only wanted leverage on Jed.’

  ‘Why, so you could blackmail Brady?’

  ‘I learnt a long time ago the only way for someone like me to survive is to influence those in power. Once I discovered what Fowler was up to, I knew I could use it to control the Senator if I needed to. The missing Sanchez girl only became an issue when you came looking for her. As much as I like you, Astrid, I’d hoped Gideon’s men would deal with you, but they turned out to be as useless as I expected.’

  ‘Did you tell him I was here?’

  She shook her head. ‘That had nothing to do with me. I knew they were in Angel Springs, but I didn’t know why until they attacked the cabin.’

  Astrid stared at her, wondering if her instincts were still wonky and processing what she’d heard.

  ‘Were you involved in that nonsense with Gideon at Brady’s mansion?’

  Cope sighed. ‘All I know is Gideon contacted Brady and set everything in motion. The first people he hired messed things up at the cabin, so they laid that trap for you at the fundraiser. Brady got well paid, and Gideon got what he wanted: you on a plate.’ She formed cow eyes at Astrid. ‘I wasn’t happy about it, but it was obvious you’d become more trouble than it would be worth to me at some point. And Pete was glad. I’m not sure who he hates the most, you or Crowley. But they fucked the whole thing up, and then you ended up at my place with your crazy story.’

  Against her better judgement, Astrid laughed. ‘Are you still denying you’re a serial killer?’

  Cope grinned at her. ‘Are you?’

  ‘You’re desperate, Jules, with that lame track again. You and I are nothing alike. Yes, I’ve killed people, but not for pleasure. But you, well, you need to kill to live, don’t you? You’re no different from every other psychopath I’ve met. Playing games with me won’t change that one bit.’

  ‘Oh please, M
s High and Mighty Astrid Snow. You killed for Crown and Country and never for enjoyment, is that what you’re going to say?’

  ‘It’ll do for now.’

  A vast belly laugh erupted from Cope. ‘You’re claiming not once did you get any tingle of delight from killing?’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what you believe, Jules. But if I don’t find Alex at Fowler’s place, then I’ll enjoy snuffing out your life.’

  She started the car and headed for Jed Fowler’s house. Cope tapped her fingers on her leg.

  ‘Well, this will be fun.’

  Astrid pushed her foot down. ‘Does Fowler know about you and Wylie?’

  The town slipped by outside, the night bringing unrelenting darkness which wrapped around them, burying them beneath a starless sky. Astrid had her window down, and the air thickened as the temperature dropped, silence consuming everything. She kept her eye on the road, but her focus was making sure Cope didn’t do anything stupid.

  ‘Fowler? The man’s an idiot; he’s lucky he can find his feet when putting shoes on. No wonder the army kicked him out.’ She smiled at Astrid. ‘Only you were clever enough to work it out, my English rose. How did you do that?’

  Astrid drove into Fowler’s street and parked outside his house. She didn’t need to drag Cope from the car, the Detective stepping out without hesitation.

  ‘You make a wrong move, Jules, and I’ll shoot.’

  Cope feigned innocence. ‘So, what’s the plan, partner? Are you going to burst in with my gun blazing?’

  Astrid pointed the revolver at her. ‘Take the path which leads to the rear of the house.’

  Astrid followed Cope at a close distance. She kept the revolver aimed at her back as they pushed through the bushes. They strode up the hill and reached the entrance. She removed a nail file from her jacket to pick the lock, but Cope tutted.

  ‘You don’t need that, partner. Fowler keeps a spare key under the brown flower pot near the door.’

  ‘You get it.’ Astrid kept the gun on her. ‘And don’t try anything stupid.’

  Cope bent and picked up the pot. ‘You mean like throwing this at you?’ She grabbed the key and tossed the container into the garden. ‘As if I’d do something as silly as that.’

  She pushed the key into the lock and opened the door. They entered the house, the smell of unwashed plates and fried food smothering everything. Astrid thrust the revolver into Cope’s back and shoved her forward.

  ‘Move into the corridor and head to the stairs; there’s a hidden basement there.’

  ‘I know where it is.’

  Cope did as instructed as they left the kitchen. The Detective needed no prompting to go to the cloth covering the entrance and pull it away; there was no padlock this time. She opened it, and Astrid pushed her inside, switching the light on as they went down the stairs. The bondage gear and the bed were still there, but there was no sign of Fowler or the girl she’d come to find.

  There was no sound in the house apart from the thunder booming around Astrid’s skull. Her mouth was drier than the desert, the wound in her palm throbbing as if plugged into an electric socket.

  ‘Where’s Alex, Jules?’

  Cope shrugged as they reached the bottom. ‘I don’t know what Jed’s done with her.’ She held her cuffed hands to her nose. ‘But it certainly stinks in here. The man needs to clean up after he’s played his games.’

  Astrid grabbed Cope and shoved her on to the bed. ‘Don’t move from there.’

  The computer equipment was gone, and the stains had vanished from the floor. She scanned the room while watching Cope. There was no sign of anywhere a person could be hidden: if Alex was in the house, it wasn’t there.

  Cope sat on the bed, her legs hanging over the edge like an innocent schoolgirl.

  ‘Perhaps we’re too late, and he’s gotten rid of her already.’

  Astrid took a deep breath, pushing the frustration into her gut. Had this all been for nothing? She was contemplating what to do when the basement door opened. She turned to see Fowler coming down the steps, taking her eyes from Cope for only a second.

  But that was enough.

  The Detective sprang from the bed, her hands free from the cuffs, and lunged at Astrid. She knocked the weapon from her and swung the metal dangling from her wrists into Astrid’s face. It caught her in the cheek, and she staggered backwards. Cope thrust a twisted elongated paper clip into Astrid’s skin as her side hit a bench. Pain surged through her as she dropped the gun. She scrambled for balance as Cope snatched up the weapon.

  Then she shot Jed Fowler.

  25 Head Like A Hole

  ‘I always keep a paper clip in my pocket in case I have to pick a lock, don’t you?’

  Cope pointed the revolver at Astrid as Jed Fowler lay bleeding on the floor. He let out a low moan as his fingers twitched. Astrid rubbed at the wound in her cheek, her pride hurting more than her body.

  ‘Alex was never here, was she?’

  She focused on the gun, but her mind darted all over the place. Could she use Fowler as a distraction? Would she reach Cope in time before she fired? How likely was it she’d get up the stairs and out of the house without being shot?

  ‘I honestly didn’t think you’d fall for it, but I was desperate. And then I saw it was even worse for you, that desperation eating at you. You need to save this kid because it means something to you.’ The gun shook in her hand as she laughed. ‘That hope burning behind your eyes, I’ve seen it before, and I know how it weakens people. My mother had it all her life, but it never did her any good. And now it’s the same for you, but you had a choice of taking me in or believing what I said. You like the risk, and that’s why you’re on the floor with me looming over you.’ Her finger caressed the trigger. ‘I think you’re here for that as much as hoping to find the girl, aren’t you, my English rose?’

  Astrid squeezed her back into the bench. ‘I want to save lives and help people, Jules; you know, the job you’re employed to do.’ Fowler groaned next to her. ‘How are you going to explain this?’

  ‘It’s simple. I was following a lead and came here.’ She inched closer to Astrid. ‘Some planted evidence in Jed’s bedroom connected to missing girls will corroborate that, and when I got here, I discovered you two fighting. I tried to intervene, but you grabbed my gun and shot him twice.’ She stopped to stare at him. ‘Or perhaps it was three times, and he stabbed you in the gut with one of the knives he has here.’

  Astrid laughed. ‘You forget Grace has Wylie at the station. She’ll tell Tanner what happened at your place, and that you were leading me here to find Alex. And then your partner will spill the beans about your crimes.’

  It was Cope’s turn to laugh. ‘Pete’s as loyal as a dog; he’d rather take the blame himself than snitch on me. And then it’s only my word against Crowley’s, and who do you think Tanner will believe when the Giraffe has no evidence?’ She grinned like a demented circus clown. ‘I’ll admit you came close, and you’ve taught me a few things I must implement going forward, with or without Pete, but you still failed.’ She pointed the gun at Astrid while reaching for a knife on the table next to her. ‘And the worst thing for you is I have no idea where Alex Sanchez is.’

  ‘There’s no need to lie anymore, Jules; not when you’ve won. So tell me what happened to Alex.’

  Cope twisted her head and arm to grab the blade. As she did so, Astrid found the bent paper clip which had cut into her face on the ground, and threw herself at the Detective. Her shoulder slammed into the gun, the two of them falling on top of Fowler. He whimpered as Astrid rolled to the side and reached for the weapon. Her fingers were on the handle when Cope plunged the knife through Astrid’s palm. It went straight through flesh and bone and pinned her to the floor.

  Cope jumped up, her eyes scanning everywhere for the revolver, seeing it in Astrid’s other hand.

  ‘I don’t want to shoot you, Jules, but I will if I have to.’

/>   ‘Perhaps you should.’ Cope stood next to the bed. ‘With your fingerprints on the gun and bullets in Fowler and me, it’ll only add credence to the story I’ll tell of finding you two fighting here.’

  Every part of Astrid throbbed, her hands aching as if they’d been trapped inside a washing machine all night. She’d have matching scars on both palms now.

  ‘And what about the evidence you were going to plant here? There’s no time for that.’

  Cope shrugged. ‘No plan is perfect.’

  ‘Or I could kill you now.’

  ‘Do you think Fowler saw who blasted him as he came down the stairs? Because I don’t believe he did. You took my gun and shot us both. Who knows why, but regardless of what happens to me, you’ll never get the chance to find Alex Sanchez from inside a cell.’

  Astrid ignored the taunts, kept the gun aimed at her and lifted her other hand, taking the knife with it. Her blood seeped onto the floor as the blade sat uncomfortably through the middle of her flesh. She took the pain and reached into her jacket for the phone, grabbing it so it was cradled next to the knife.

  ‘Let’s see what your colleagues think about this.’

  She used her aching fingers to find Grace’s number and hit dial. Then she waited and watched Detective Julie Cope smile at her without saying another word.

  ‘Get this inside you.’ Grace offered Astrid a coffee, but she refused. Both her hands ached as if they were about to drop off. She stared at the bandages covering her palms and wondered if she deserved all the pain.

  ‘How’s Fowler?’

  ‘He’s doing fine in hospital, which is where you should be.’

  ‘The paramedics said there’s no need; both wounds were clean and went straight through without causing much damage.’ She held her bandaged hands up and flexed her fingers, not showing Grace how agonising such a simple movement was. ‘All I needed was stitches. Did Fowler say who shot him?’

  ‘He didn’t see who it was, and he can’t remember anything after falling.’

  Astrid let out a long sigh. ‘What happened with Wylie?’

  ‘I brought him here and told Tanner what happened at Cope’s place. My colleagues took him away and have been interviewing him ever since.’