by Carla Blake
“And no one tried to help? God, it’s un-fuckin’-believable! Surely someone must have heard something?”
“Apparently not, which is why I thumped Simon round the back of the head with the fire extinguisher.”
“You did what?”
“I thumped him with a fire extinguisher. Hey, why are you looking so shocked? He’d just tried to stab you!”
“ I know. It’s just so… unlike you! Then what..?”
“Well, we dragged the pair of you into the apartment and shut the door and while Kate found your clothes and dressed you, I tied Simon up and dumped him in the lounge.”
Rachel laughed. “Yeah, right and I suppose I walked out of the building right under the nose of the concierge. What did you really do? Call the police? Have him arrested?”
“Nope. We did just as we told you.” Kate said seriously. “Tied him up and left him to stew. We carried you down the back stairs and out the fire escape. The concierge never knew a thing.”
Rachel paled. “You’re not kiddin’ are you?” She said, looking from one to the other of them. “You’ve actually left him there. Oh, my God, why? Why didn’t you just call the police?”
“Because we panicked.” Polly said softly. “I’m sorry Rachel, I know we should have called the cops, but after I knocked him out and saw the blood..”
“The blood..?”
“..we thought we’d killed him, but then he moaned, thank God, and before I knew what I was doing I was tying him up.”
“And it didn’t occur to you at any time to call the police.”
“Well, yes, of course it did, but you know what Simon’s like. If we’d called the police, Simon would have somehow managed to twist things around so we were the ones to blame and he’d be the one pressing charges against us. I’m sorry, Rachel, I know we should have called them. I know it was a crappy idea but I just panicked.”
“ You’re telling me you panicked! God, I can’t believe this! What on earth possessed you Polly? I mean I appreciate you both coming to rescue me, I really do, but to tie him up and leave him! What were you thinking?”
“Revenge crossed my mind.” Kate cut in.
“Revenge?” Rachel cried. “Are you mad? What if he does get free? What then? Simon won’t panic like you did, he’ll go straight to the police and then we’re really going to be in the shit, ‘cos it won’t matter a flying fig what I say now, if Simon gets his story in first then we’re all going to be well and truly fucked.”.
“ In that case.” Polly added. “It’s a good job we tied him up good and tight.”
“And gagged him.” Kate put in. “Plus, as of now, he’s been trussed up for just over twenty four hours. I bet he’s dying for a wee.”
Twenty Four
Pulling over in almost exactly the same spot as the previous morning, Polly killed the engine and slumped back in her seat. “Well, here we are.” She announced, turning to gaze at Kate in the passenger seat and Rachel in the back. “The house of horrors. Still standing and sadly not gone up in flames yet, so hard luck there Kate. No one’s set it on fire in our absence. Anyone got any other bright ideas?”
They hadn’t and after five minutes of sighing and scratching their heads and generally coming up with the kind of ideas best reserved for the likes of James Bond, they were forced to admit that their original idea of simply getting there and hoping inspiration might strike at the opportune moment, was simply not going to happen.
Gazing out of the side window, Rachel picked at a loose thread on her jacket. “The thing is.” She said cautiously. “Is not what we do with Simon, but how we get in. From what you’ve told me, the concierge is bound to recognize you, and he’ll certainly know me, so how do we gain access?”
“What about the fire escape?.” Kate suggested. “That’s how we got you out.”
“True.” Polly agreed. “But getting out is always a lot easier than getting in and besides, those doors are fitted with alarms and probably CCTV as well. Which makes me wonder why no one’s raised the alarm yet. You’d think the police would be crawling all over the place.”
“Not if the concierge didn’t say anything. He might not have wanted to appear incompetent, and we weren’t up on the third floor very long. We’d probably already gone by the time he got up there.”
“Or there might not be have been any film in the camera.” Polly suggested. “What do you think girls? Is it worth the risk?”
Both Rachel and Kate shook their heads. “It’s bad enough.” Rachel said. “That you left him tied up in the first place, but what we don’t need is for Simon to have proof that we sneaked back in today, because if your alibi is going to be that you panicked and that’s why you tied him up and legged it, then no way do you want the police to find out that we tried to return to the scene of the crime. That’s going to make it look premeditated.”
“Then how about if we wait for a delivery?” Kate suggested. “Maybe we could sneak in whilst the concierge is busy dealing with it.”
“Yes. “Polly said dryly. “If you want to spend all day waiting for something that might not happen and what about work? I’ve already rung in sick twice and so have you. We can’t push out luck much further. “
“And what about me?” Rachel asked. “What have you told them about me?”
“We told them you met an old friend while out shopping.” Kate said. “Who took you home, filled you up with drugs and drink and then left you to sleep it off. We also told them you tripped over a coffee table trying to leave and bashed your head. You should have seen Veronica’s face! She didn’t know whether to be sympathetic or horrified!”
“She’s not the only one!” Rachel frowned, thumping Kate across the shoulder. “ Why did you have to go and tell her that!?”
“Because it was all I could think of at the time! And what are you worrying about? Veronica won’t tell anyone and it’s the perfect excuse for you going missing.”
“Unlike the truth.”
“Oh, yeah, that would really have gone down well. ‘Rachel isn’t at work today because her maniac ex boyfriend has kidnapped her and beaten her up’, but hey, don’t worry, she’s fine. She just needs to learn how to pick her lovers more carefully.”
“Guys…?”
“Instead!” Rachel exclaimed. “Everyone just thinks I’m no judge of character when it comes to my friends! Thanks Kate.”
“Don’t mention it and everyone does not think that. Just Veronica. Which reminds me, she says you’re not to worry about the end of month accounts. She’s got Sally to do them.”
“Guys…!”
“What?” Rachel and Kate both cried together.
Polly pointed out the windscreen. “Isn’t that Simon’s car?”
“Are you sure?” Kate asked, leaning forward in her seat in an effort to see past the burst of sunlight that was currently reflecting off the Ferrari’s windscreen. “It’s not as if you can actually see who’s driving. Could be anybody.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” Rachel confirmed from her place at the rear. “It’s him alright. He wouldn’t let anyone but him drive his precious Ferrari and besides he’s the only one around here who’s got one. Everyone else drives a Bentley or a Jag. What I’d like to know is how the hell he managed to get himself free? I thought you said you tied him up good and tight?”
“We did!”
“Then how come he’s sitting in his bloody car?!”
“I don’t know!”
Kate tapped on the dashboard. “ Heads up girls.” She said. “We have movement.”
They turned to gaze across the road.
The concierge was emerging from the apartment building, looking smart despite the earliness of the hour and with the buttons on his jacket winking in the pale, morning sunshine. Nodding in the Ferrari’s direction, he then turned to open one side of the building’s double doors
as Simon’s girlfriend, Wendy, stepped out carrying a holdall and wearing a shirt that looked very much like one of Simon’s.
Pausing to say something to the concierge, who touched the brim of his hat in reply, she then swung the holdall into the car and climbed in after it, closing the door behind her with a solid thump.
“Wendy.” Rachel hissed. “I might have bloody known!”
“Well, at least we now know how he managed to escape.” Polly sighed. “He had a little help from his friends.”
“And what’s the betting they’re going straight to the cop shop?” Kate added. “Shit! What are we going to do now.”
“Get there first, that’s what.” Polly replied. “If we beat him to it and tell them Rachel’s side of the story, there’s no way he’s going to be able to talk himself out of it.”
“Tell them! I can bloody show them!”
“But what about tying him up and all that? That’s not going to look so good.”
“Well, we’ll just have to stick to the truth and tell them we panicked. Panic makes people do some odd things.”
“Alright.” Kate said. “But how are we going to beat him to the cops in this old banger? No offence Polly, but I doubt it actually goes over thirty! How we gonna out run a Ferrari!”
“By stealth my child.” Polly said tapping the side of her nose. “I know a short cut.”
The Ferrari pulled away. Quietly and slowly, paying no attention to the three women currently slumped down in their seats in a bid to stay hidden.
Still the little hairs on the back of Rachel’s neck stood to attention, and peering out of the back window she tried to recall ever seeing Simon pull away with such serenity and calm. It just wasn’t like him. Simon was too much of a show off. An exhibitionist. The Ferrari just another way of gaining attention and getting people to look at him. His departures usually involved a lot of noise and squealing of tires.
Just like she was hearing now as the Ferrari suddenly span around and came hurtling back towards them. The headlights on full beam. The engine a low rumbling growl of menace as Rachel turned round in her seat and grabbed Polly’s shoulder.
“Fuck!” She hissed. “It’s too late. He’s seen us!”
“I know!”
Headlights blazed through the rear window, dulled, then blazed again.
“For fuck’s sake, move!” Kate yelled. “Put your fuckin’ foot down!”
Shoving the car into gear, Polly stamped on the accelerator and pulled away from the kerb, thanking her lucky stars that she’d thought to fill up with gas the day. They hit a speed bump and she apologised when all three of them momentarily left their seats.
Rachel didn’t care. “Never mind that!” She cried. “He’s still behind us! Wha..? Why are you stopping!?”
“Traffic lights!”
“Shit!”
“It’s okay. He’s stopping too.”
“Wonderful, but what do we do now? If we go to the cops he’ll know where we’re going.”
“Maybe we could outrun him?” Kate said.
“In this?” Polly snorted. “In your dreams, sweetie.”
“Then what do you suggest? We have to think of some way of getting rid of him. We can’t just keep driving round and round forever.”
“That’s if he is actually following us. We don’t know for sure.”
“The bastards practically in our boot!” Rachel exclaimed. “Of course he’s bloody following us.”
“Then what if we get out and confront him? Try and reason with him.”
“No way.” Rachel said firmly. “He’ll thump the lot of us. Or run us over.”
“Then all I can suggest is that we go to the cops anyway. And if he wants to follow us , then fine, it’ll save them having to look for him later.”
“Except he now has Wendy.” Rachel reminded them. “And I know Simon. By now he’ll have invented an entirely different story to ours and the chances are he’ll have convinced Wendy to go along with it as well. She probably will do too, seeing as how she obviously doesn’t mind lying for him. Look at all that garbage she gave me in the restaurant.”
The lights turned green and Polly pulled away. The Ferrari stayed with them.
“What if he’s trying to make us go to the cops?” Polly said, taking another left and cursing when Simon did the same. “ Just so he can dump us in it?”
Rachel nodded. “That’s not beyond the realms of possibility.”
“But if the cops believe him and not us,” Kate cut in, “ then what? Simon has all the proof he needs back at the apartment, Your DNA, Rachel, not to mention ours, must be all over the place.”
“True.” Rachel replied. “But I was his girlfriend remember. And you’re my mates, I could have invited you round for coffee anytime. The police would expect to find it.”
“Providing he hasn’t ‘doctored’ the scene.”
“What do you mean?” Kate asked.
“What I mean,” Polly said carefully, steering the car down a one way street and wishing Simon’s Ferrari would clip someone’s wing mirror, “ is what if Simon’s had a bit of a tidy up and rearranged the apartment to put the blame solely on you. Don’t ask me how, cos I have no idea, but what if he has. He’s a devious sod.”
“Then we’re probably fucked.”
Kate sighed. “So what do we do? Drive round to one of us runs out of gas?”
“No.” Rachel said, leaning between the seats. “We make for the common.”
“And what good’s that going to do?” Kate asked, turning round to face her. “And it is him by the way. I just saw his ugly face through the windscreen.”
“Three reasons.” Rachel said counting them off on her fingers. “One, Simon won’t want to take his car across such rough terrain and risk scrapping it to bits. Two, there’s that new development being built behind it at the moment which means that if we can just get over the rough ground and past the trees, we can get out onto one of the new road, and three, I happen to know one of those new roads leads straight to the cop shop. The perfect short cut.”
“And how do you know all this?” Kate asked.
“Because unlike you sweetheart, I happen to read the planning applications in the local rag.”
“And what about my poor car?” Polly wailed. “It might be old but I don’t particularly want the paintwork scratched to buggery.”
“Then I’ll pay for a re-spray.”
“ Like hell you will! What about...”
Simon’s car hit them. Not hard. Not even hard enough for their seat belts to deploy, but it was enough to startle them and swearing under her breath, Polly took a sharp left and then pressed down hard on the accelerator, screeching round a right turn before racing through a green light at the intersection and heading for the common.
Simon’s Ferrari stayed with them. The red bonnet of his car never more than a few feet away as his headlights repeatedly flooded their interior and Rachel’s mobile rang.
“It’s Simon.” She said, hanging onto the seat with one hand.
“Tell him to fuck off.” Kate advised.
Rachel said hello.
“He wants us to pull over so we can talk.” She said. “What do you think?”
“I think he can go take a running jump!” Kate sneered, leaning over her seat to flip Simon and Wendy the finger. “I bet he’s figured out we’re going to the police and he’s crapping himself. Tell him to stuff it.”
Rachel told him.
“He says we’re stupid, little cunts.”
Kate laughed. “Yeap, he’s definitely scared.” She said.
“We’re here.” Polly said from the driver’s seat. “Hang on ladies, it’s going to get a little bumpy!”
Polly’s car hit the rutted, dirt track doing fifty, twenty more than Kate would ever have given it credit for, and from t
he back seat Rachel yelped in sudden pain as the suspension jolted her in her seat and the seat belt bit tightly across her breasts.
Polly yelled an apology from the driver’s seat. “You okay?” She asked. “Not bleeding again are you?”
“No, it’s okay.” Rachel winced, cradling her breasts in her arms. “Just got a bit of a shock that’s all. Can’t we slow down a bit?”
“Not if we want to get across here.” Polly shouted back at her. “The bastards still following! So much for not wanting to ruin his precious car!”
“Look out!” Kate screamed.
And Simon’s car hit them.
Hard this time. The front bumper of the Ferrari slamming into the back of Polly’s car as the three of them jolted forward in their seats and their seat belts cut cruelly across their chests. Polly swore and momentarily loosing her grip on the steering wheel, grabbed hold of it again and steered violently to the left.
“Bastard!” She cried. “Fuckin’ bastard!”
But Simon was still coming and falling back a little, he allowed distance to build up between the two cars before he floored the accelerator and rammed into them a second time. Catching them just over the right wheel arc and completely crumpling the bumper on the Ferrari as the shunt drove Polly’s car forward and a hubcap shot away to bury itself in a clump of hawthorn bushes.
“I’ll fuckin’ kill him!” Kate yelled, turning in her seat to glare at the bonnet of the Ferrari that was now filling their rear view. “Stop the car Polly! Stop it right now!”
“Are you crazy!?” Polly shot back. “No way am I stopping! Look at him! If I stop now he’ll fuckin’ kill us!”
“I don’t care! Just stop this bloody, fuckin’ car!”
“NO!”
“The trees!” Rachel yelled from the back seat. “Polly! Aim for the trees. He’ll never get the Ferrari through the gap!”
Polly floored it, the speedometer reaching figures it had never even considered before, as stampeding down hard on the gas pedal, she aimed the car across the short and scrubby grass and made straight for the woods.
The car groaned. Unused to such rough treatment, it bounced heavily on its suspension, throwing the three women round like rag dolls, as hanging onto the edge of their seats and the steering wheel, they listened to the undercarriage squeak and groan as they jolted over rabbit holes and grassy mounds and the windscreen began to fill with the blurred image of rapidly advancing trees.