by Joël Dicker
• • •
The black Chevrolet pulled up alongside her.
“Luther?” said Nola.
“Don’t cry. I juft came to fay vat you shouldn’t cry.”
“Oh, Luther, something so sad has happened to me. Can you give me a ride?”
“Where are you going?”
“Far away.”
She dived into the passenger seat without even waiting for Luther’s reply.
“Drive, Luther! I have to go to the Sea Side Motel. I can’t believe he doesn’t love me! We loved each other like no couple has ever loved before.”
Luther obeyed. But neither he nor Nola had noticed the police car at the intersection. Travis Dawn had just been to the Quinns’ house for the umpteenth time, waiting for Jenny to be alone so he could give her the wild roses he had picked. Incredulous, he watched Nola get into a car he didn’t recognize, with Luther at the wheel. He watched the Chevrolet pull away, waiting a bit before he followed. He had to keep the car in sight, but he couldn’t get too close. He wanted to know why Luther spent so much time in Somerset. Was he spying on Jenny? Why had he picked up Nola? Travis grabbed his car radio. He was going to call for backup so he could be sure of catching Luther if the arrest took a turn for the worse. But then he changed his mind: He did not want the encumbrance of a colleague; he wanted to deal with this his way. Somerset was a peaceful place, and he intended to keep it that way. He was going to teach that guy a lesson he would never forget. This would be the last time Luther Caleb would set foot in Travis’s town. And once again he wondered how on earth Jenny could have fallen in love with that monster.
• • •
“You wrote those letters?” Nola shrieked inside the car when she had heard Luther’s explanation.
“Yef . . .”
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand.
“Luther, you’re crazy! You can’t steal people’s mail. What you did is very wicked.”
He lowered his head in shame.
“I’m forry. I felt fo lonely . . .”
She placed a friendly hand on his powerful shoulder.
“All right, never mind, Luther. It doesn’t matter. And this means that Harry is waiting for me! He’s waiting for me! We are going away together!”
This thought was enough to light up her face.
“You’re fo lucky, Nola. You and Harry love each over. Vat meanv you will never be lonely.”
They were now driving along Shore Road. They passed the entrance to Goose Cove.
“Good-bye, Goose Cove!” Nola said gaily. “That house is the only place in this town with happy memories for me.”
She laughed for no reason. And Luther smiled in response. He and Nola were parting, but at least they were parting on good terms. Suddenly they heard a police siren behind them. They were close to the forest now, and it was here that Travis had decided to intercept Luther and give him what he deserved. No one would see them in the woods.
“It’f Travif,” Luther groaned. “If he catchev uv, we’re fcrewed.”
Nola started to panic.
“Not the police! Oh, Luther, please, do something!”
The Chevrolet accelerated. It was a powerful car. Cursing, Travis grabbed his handset and ordered Luther through the car megaphone to pull over.
“Don’t stop!” Nola begged. “Speed up! Speed up!”
Luther pressed down harder on the accelerator. After Goose Cove, Shore Road went through a series of bends: Luther took them at high speed and increased the gap between him and the police car. The sound of the siren was fading.
“He’v going to call for backup,” Luther said.
“If he catches us, I’ll never be able to leave with Harry!”
“Ven let’f efcape into ve foreft. Ve foreft iv maffive—no one will find uv vere. You can reach ve Fea Fide Motel from vere. If vey catch me, Nola, I won’t fay a word. I won’t tell vem you were wiv me. Vat way you can ftill efcape wiv Harry.”
“Oh, Luther . . .”
“Promif me you’ll keep my book! Promif you’ll keep it av a fouvenir of me.”
“I promise.”
At these words Luther slammed on the brakes, and the car disappeared into the undergrowth at the edge of the forest before stopping behind a copse of thick brambles. They got out as fast as they could.
“Run!” Luther told her. “Run, Nola!”
They pushed through some thorny bushes. Nola’s dress was torn, and her face was covered with scratches.
• • •
Travis swore. He could no longer see the black Chevrolet. He sped up again but did not notice the vehicle hidden behind the brambles. He proceeded straight along Shore Road.
• • •
They ran through the forest. Nola went first, with Luther behind, as he found it more difficult to duck under the low branches.
“Run, Nola!” he shouted. “Don’t ftop!”
Without realizing it, they had reached the edge of the forest. They were close to Side Creek Lane.
From her kitchen window Deborah Cooper looked out at the woods. Then she thought she saw something. She watched more carefully and glimpsed a girl running very fast, pursued by a man. She rushed to the telephone and dialed 911.
• • •
Travis had just stopped by the roadside when he received the call from the police station: A young girl had been seen near Side Creek Lane, apparently pursued by a man. The officer acknowledged the call and immediately made a U-turn. Siren screaming and blue lights flashing, he headed toward Side Creek Lane. After half a mile his attention was caught by a bright reflection: a windshield! It was the black Chevrolet, concealed in the bushes. He stopped close to the vehicle, firearm at the ready. The car was empty. He went back to his car and drove to Deborah Cooper’s house.
• • •
They stopped close to the beach to catch their breath.
“You think it’s okay?” Nola said.
Luther listened: He couldn’t hear anything.
“We fould wait here for a while,” he said. “Ve foreft iv a good plafe to hide.”
Nola’s heart was pounding. She thought of Harry. She thought of her mother. She missed her mother.
• • •
“A girl in a red dress,” Deborah Cooper explained to Officer Dawn. “She was running toward the beach. A man was following her. I couldn’t see him clearly. But he looked quite big.”
“That’s them,” he said. “Can I use your telephone?”
“Of course.”
Travis called Chief Pratt at home.
“Chief, I’m sorry to disturb you on your day off, but there’s something strange going on here. I saw Luther Caleb in Somerset—”
“Again?”
“Yes. But this time Nola Kellergan got in his car. I tried to catch him, but he lost me. He went into the woods, with Nola. I’m afraid he might hurt her, Chief. The forest is dense. I can’t catch him on my own.”
“You were right to call. I’m on my way.”
• • •
“We’ll go to Canada. I like Canada. We’ll live in a pretty house, by a lake. We’ll be so happy.”
Luther smiled. Sitting on a fallen tree, he listened to Nola’s hopes and dreams.
“Vat foundv wonderful,” he said.
“Yes . . . what time is it?”
“It’f nearly fikf forty-five.”
“Then I have to get going. I’m meeting Harry at seven, in room 8. I don’t think we have anything to worry about now anyway.”
But at that very moment they heard a noise. And then voices.
“It’s the police!” Nola said, almost hysterical.
• • •
Chief Pratt and Travis searched the forest; they walked along its edge, close to the beach. They moved through the trees, nightsticks at t
he ready.
• • •
“You go, Nola,” Luther said. “You go, and I’ll ftay here.”
“No, I can’t leave you!”
“Go now, for God’v fake! Go! You’ll have time to get to ve motel. You’ll fee Harry vere, and everyfing will be good. Go quickly. Run av faft av you can. Run away and be happy.”
“Luther, I—”
“Good-bye, Nola. I hope you love my book ve way I wanted you to love me.”
Weeping, she waved to him and disappeared into the trees.
• • •
The two policemen advanced quickly. After a few hundred yards they saw a figure ahead of them.
“It’s Luther!” Travis yelled. “It’s him!”
He was sitting on the tree stump. He had not moved. Travis rushed at him, grabbing him by the collar.
“Where’s the girl?” he shouted, shaking him.
“What girl?” Luther asked.
He tried to work out how long it would take Nola to reach the motel.
“Where’s Nola? What did you do with her?” Travis demanded.
When Luther did not reply, Chief Pratt, approaching from behind, grabbed his leg and smashed the billy club into his knee.
• • •
Nola heard a scream. She stopped dead and shuddered. They had found Luther. They were beating him. She hesitated for a fraction of a second: She should go back and show herself to the police officers. It would be awful if Luther got into trouble because of her. She wanted to return to the tree stump, but then she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. She turned around and gasped.
“Mom?” she said.
• • •
Luther was lying on the ground and groaning, both his kneecaps broken. Travis and Pratt took turns kicking him and hitting him with their nightsticks.
“What did you do to Nola?” Travis yelled. “Did you hurt her? Did you? You’re a fucking pervert, aren’t you? You had to hurt her, didn’t you?”
Luther howled under the repeated blows, begging the policemen to stop.
• • •
“Mom?”
Louisa Kellergan smiled tenderly at her daughter.
“What are you doing here, my love?”
“I’m running away.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to be with Harry. I love him so much.”
“You shouldn’t leave your father on his own. Your father will be lonely without you. You can’t leave like that . . .”
“Mom . . . Mom, I’m sorry for what I did to you.”
“I forgive you, my darling. But you should stop hurting yourself now.”
“All right.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise, Mom. What should I do now?”
“Go home to your father. He needs you.”
“But what about Harry? I don’t want to lose him.”
“You won’t lose him. He’ll wait for you.”
“Really?”
“Yes. He’ll wait his whole life for you.”
Nola heard more screams. Luther! She ran as fast as she could toward the stump, yelling at the top of her voice for them to stop beating him. She burst into the clearing. Luther was lying on the ground, dead. Chief Pratt and Officer Dawn were staring wild-eyed at the corpse. There was blood everywhere.
“What have you done?” Nola screamed.
“Nola?” Pratt said. “But—”
“You killed Luther!”
She threw herself at Chief Pratt, who slapped her in the face. Blood poured from her nose. She shook with fear.
“Sorry, Nola. I . . . I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Pratt stammered.
She recoiled.
“You . . . you killed Luther!”
“Wait, Nola!”
She fled. Travis tried to grab her but was left with nothing but a handful of blond hair.
“Catch her, for God’s sake!” Pratt yelled at Travis. “Catch her!”
She ran through the forest, scratching her cheeks on low branches, and finally emerging from the last line of trees. A house. She saw a house. She ran toward the kitchen door. Her nose was still bleeding. There was blood all over her face. Deborah Cooper opened the door, her face a mask of terror, and let her in.
“Help me,” Nola whimpered. “Call for help.”
Deborah rushed once more to the telephone to call the police.
• • •
Nola felt a hand over her mouth. Travis lifted her up with a single powerful motion. She fought, but he was too strong. Before he could get her out of the house, Deborah Cooper came back into the living room. She cried out in terror.
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Travis said. “I’m a police officer. Everything is under control.”
“Help!” Nola screamed, attempting to escape his grip. “They killed a man! These policemen are murderers! There’s a man dead in the forest!”
The next few moments felt like an eternity. Deborah Cooper and Travis stared at each other in silence. She did not dare run to the telephone; he did not dare run away. Then there was a gunshot, and Deborah Cooper crumpled to the floor. Chief Pratt had shot her with his service pistol.
“Are you crazy?” Travis shouted. “What the fuck! Why did you do that?”
“We had no choice, Travis. You know what would have happened to us if she had talked.”
Travis was trembling. “What now?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
Nola, who was terrified, gathered up her strength and took advantage of their indecision to break free of Travis’s grip. Before Chief Pratt had time to react, she had climbed through the kitchen window and was running down the steps. But she lost her balance and fell. She got right back up, but by then the chief was holding her by her hair. She screamed and bit his hand. The chief loosened his grip, but she didn’t have time to run away. Travis hit her on the back of her head with his billy club. She collapsed to the ground. He recoiled in horror. There was blood everywhere. She was dead.
Travis remained crouched over the body for a moment. He wanted to throw up. Pratt was shaking. The sound of birdsong reached them from the woods.
“What have we done, Chief?” whispered Travis, eyes glinting.
“Stay calm, Travis. Stay calm. Panicking won’t help.”
“Yes, Chief.”
“We have to get rid of Caleb and Nola. We could get the death penalty for this, you know.”
“Yes, Chief. What about Mrs. Cooper?”
“We’ll make it look like she was killed by a robber. You need to do exactly what I tell you.”
Travis was crying now.
“Yes, Chief. I’ll do what I have to.”
“You told me you saw Caleb’s car near Shore Road?”
“Yes. The keys are in the ignition.”
“Good. We’re going to put his body in the car. And you’re going to get rid of it, okay?”
“Yes.”
“As soon as you’re gone, I’ll call for backup, so nobody suspects. We’ll have to act fast. By the time the reinforcements arrive, you’ll be long gone. In the crush of people, no one will notice your absence.”
“Yes. But, Chief, I think Mrs. Cooper called 911 again.”
“Fuck! We have to get going then!”
They dragged Luther’s and Nola’s bodies to the Chevrolet. Then Pratt ran through the forest back toward Deborah Cooper’s house and his police car. He used his car radio to say he’d found Deborah Cooper shot dead.
Travis got behind the wheel of the Chevrolet and started the engine. As he was emerging from the bushes, he passed a sheriff’s patrol car that had been dispatched after Deborah Cooper’s second phone call.
• • •
Pratt was talking to the station when he heard a police siren close by. Th
e radio announced a chase on Shore Road between a sheriff’s car and a black Chevrolet Monte Carlo spotted coming out near Side Creek Lane. Chief Pratt told them he would join the chase immediately. He started up his vehicle, turned on the siren, and drove along the parallel forest path. When he came out on Shore Road, he just avoided crashing into Travis. Their eyes met for a moment: Both men were terrified.
During the chase, Travis managed to make the sheriff’s car swerve off the road. He then took Shore Road back southward and turned off at Goose Cove. Pratt followed close behind, pretending to pursue him. He gave false positions on the car radio, claiming he was on the Montburry road. He turned off his siren, pulled in to the Goose Cove path, and met up with Travis in front of the house. The two men got out of their cars, both feeling desperate.
“Are you crazy? Why the hell did you stop here?” Pratt demanded.
“Quebert’s not here,” Travis said. “He’ll be out of town for a while. He told Jenny Quinn, and she told me.”
“I asked for roadblocks on every road. I had to.”
“Shit! Shit!” Travis hissed. “We’re trapped! So what do we do now?”
Pratt looked around. He noticed the empty garage. “Leave the car in there, lock the garage door, and get back to Side Creek Lane as fast as you can along the beach. Pretend to search Mrs. Cooper’s house. I’ll join the chase again. We can get rid of the bodies tonight. Do you have a jacket in your car?”
“Yes.”
“Put it on. You’re covered in blood.”
Fifteen minutes later, while Pratt was passing backup patrols near Montburry, Travis—wearing a rain jacket, and surrounded by colleagues who had come from all over the state—was sealing off the area around Side Creek Lane, where Deborah Cooper’s body had just been found.
• • •
In the middle of the night, Travis and Pratt went back to Goose Cove. They buried Nola about sixty feet from the house. Pratt had already defined the search area with Captain Rodik from the state police. He knew that Goose Cove was not included, so nobody would come here to look for Nola. They buried her with her leather shoulder bag, without even looking inside to see what was in it.