Turtle Island (25 page)

Georgina opened her eyes, the view through the water so
reminiscent of those childhood days. She sat for a while watching
the tungsten world ripple, waiting; like the child she was, until
the very last moment before re-emerging. If the world had not been
cleansed, then at least she somehow felt exorcised for the moment.
She breathed a deep breath filling her lungs with air and wiped the
remnants of water from her eyes. Black mascara smudged in to her
closed fist. Georgina leaned over the side of the bath and lifted
the straight whiskey she had poured and took a sip before sinking
down in the bath again, allowing the water to cover her shoulders.
The only embrace she would have tonight.

The water was cold, colder than ever. Jo-Lynn waited in the
dark. Cramp and fatigue were diminishing her resolve. Her hopes of
being left with at least light were dashed when He taped her mouth
again, turned off the light and left her in the dark once more. She
was no longer sure if her husband was with her let alone her son.
Right now she wanted to die, she wanted to die more than anything
else, more than even seeing her son or her husband ever again. She
knew she could do it, she could rock the chair and fall head first
into the water, and then all she'd have to do would be breathe then
it would all be over. Her hands were freezing…her legs were
freezing. Never had she felt such despair and such a sense of sheer
uselessness, if that was his objective then he had achieved it, but
if she tipped the chair forward she would never know what had
happened to her son and while she had given up on herself. She
couldn’t give up on Ray or Rick. No matter how much she wanted to
die, there was no way she could give up on them. The umbilical cord
was severed at birth but the maternal bond could never be severed,
not while she held breath in her lungs. Jo-Lynn screamed and cried
out but the tape muted her despair. She wanted to kill. She wanted
to kill. Never before had she known, nor had been able to
understand such cold hearted hatred. She believed in good. She had
faith, believed that God would always be there, well where the hell
was he now. She wanted to kill. Jo-Lynn felt a surge of hope. While
she felt such rage she knew there was a chance. Given the chance,
she’d rip his fucking head off....

Somehow she must have fallen asleep, though she could not
remember slumber creeping upon her. Sleep has an anaesthetic
quality and no matter how long she had been in the arms of its
somnambulant cradle Georgina never once felt the coldness of the
water. She had dreamt of freedom, warm sunny beaches. Running,
moving. She awoke in the cold water of the bath, her body now a
ridge of goose bumps as her skin searched for hot air. She pulled
herself out of the bath and shivered, quickly wrapping a bath towel
around her body to chase away night fingers. As she dried herself
she felt totally alone.

‘The last person on earth’

She lifted the near empty glass of whiskey and toasted herself
in the mirror.

‘Just me and a glass of whiskey.’ Georgina nodded to her
reflection and sank the last quarter in the tumbler. ‘My old friend
you warm me up on nights such as these.’

She threw the glass against the opposite wall watching it
break in to a thousand fractured spears of glass. She wanted to
scream at the top of her voice, cry out her frustration. Georgina
wandered into the bedroom and flopped onto the bed.

An arm shook roughly at her shoulder. Jo-Lynn woke. And as
soon as conscious thought replaced the sanctuary of dreams, she
knew she must remember the feeling of hatred that had invaded her
thoughts earlier. He started to take the tape from her mouth
again.

‘They don’t have a clue. Lord knows I’ve given them enough.
They’re so ignorant. I could give them my address and they’d still
take a week to get here.’

Jo-Lynn smelt toast. He placed a slice of toast near her lips.
She could see the light from under the small gap near her
nose.

‘I need the toilet.’ Jo-Lynn protested. ‘I cannot eat until I
have used a toilet.’

He pressed the toast closer to her lips

‘Can’t you hear me I NEED the bathroom.’ she
repeated.

He pulled the toast away and placed it on a tray, which held a
mug of coffee. She heard something being opened and could then feel
a rubbing sensation by her ankles. Suddenly one leg was free; more
cutting then the next leg came unbound. She could feel him working
around her back, his hand pushing at her shoulders guiding her
upright but partially supporting her. Jo-Lynn never realised how
weak her legs would be as they gave from under her, if he had not
been supporting her she would have fallen in to the
water.

He pulled her forward a few paces.

‘How’s my son. Please can I see him, or if I can’t see him,
can I hold him, please?’

Jo-Lynn felt the tip of cold steel against the top of her leg,
followed by a tug as he cut her knickers away. His hands pressed
down on to her shoulders, forcing her into a squat, all the time he
supported her frame.

‘You're kidding? I need privacy.’

He pushed down on her shoulders.

Six O'clock. The alarm rang in Georgina's head a minute before
the alarm next to her bed sounded. She reached out and switched the
setting to the radio, allowing a little early morning music to
gently pull her out of bed.

Three and a half miles away Leroy was already awake, sitting
eating his breakfast, while familiarising himself with the controls
of the camera. His telly was on in the background, which he glanced
at between the pages of the manual that accompanied the camera. It
was Barbara Dace's live report, which grabbed his attention. She
was standing outside the Fleisher house, now boarded up, looking
abandoned. The sun was just rising and her skin was looking
bleached out by the harsh halogen used to light the
scene.

‘For those that believe that lightning doesn’t strike twice,
the events unfolding here on Turtle Island are a little too
reminiscent of an incident which came to conclusion here inside
this house six months ago. A little over half a year ago I stood
inside the house behind me, only hours after Charles Fleisher had
been gunned down after killing Karen Fuller, a local teacher at the
high school here on Turtle Island. Many people then believed that
the death of Fleisher would see an end to a series of kidnappings
and murder, which saw the deaths of Max Dalton, Stephen England and
finally Karen Fuller. But today I can exclusively reveal on
Breakfast News that one of the Detectives in charge of the Fleisher
case and his family has disappeared, presumably kidnapped at the
hands of a copycat perpetrator. The body of the family nanny was
found stabbed to death at the hone of Detective Rick Montoya. I
have with me Lieutenant Norman Frusco, the police officer in charge
assigned to Turtle Island.’

Leroy’s jaw dropped open so far it nearly bounced off the
table.

‘What the...’

He listened as Norman Frusco shuffled into view, looking ill
at ease in front of the camera, in comparison with his lover. Leroy
tried to fathom why Frusco was publicising Rick’s
kidnapping.

Frusco delivered a prepared statement. Unfolding a crumpled
piece of paper from the inside pocket of his even more crumpled
jacket, he began to read.

‘A little over two days ago Detective Rick Montoya and his
wife and son were abducted from their family home here on Turtle
Island. To the person that is responsible I have this to say. You
have killed an innocent young woman, and are putting the lives of
Detective Rick Montoya and his family at risk for no reason. We
need to resolve this situation but can't if you don't contact us.
We need to talk, we know you know how best to do that.’

Frusco folded the paper and continued staring uneasily into
the camera for a few seconds before the camera shifted to the right
and Barbara Dace for the close of the report.

‘I will be back throughout the day following this story
exclusively with the full co-operation of Lieutenant Frusco and the
local police force. Barbara Dace reporting for MRTV.’

He watched the television with fascination, while preparing a
tray with scrambled eggs, corn flakes and grapefruit juice with a
glass of milk placed to one side. He tidied away used cutlery into
the sink of hot water and carefully wiped the worktop clean with a
sponge. All the time he whistled, seemingly happy and content. He
lifted the tray and walked out of the small kitchen, still
whistling as he strolled down the hall. From the room in front of
him came the sound of a television tuned to the children's network
and the sound of a small child laughing. He pushed the door open
with his foot. Ray sat in the middle of the floor about four feet
away from the TV.

‘Don't sit too close Ray, it ain't healthy.’

Ray turned, smiling. ‘Okay.’ and shuffled back about six
inches.

He smiled.

‘You're late.’ Georgina opened the door and stepped out of the
small motel room.

The weather outside the front door was grey and drizzly but
the air temperature was still mild.

‘I know, I got delayed. Had to stop of at a shop for some
film. The last person who had the camera was responsible for
leaving a film in the camera.’ Changing tack, Leroy asked Georgina.
‘Did you watch any TV this morning?’

Georgina stepped out, closing the door behind her. ‘Nope, just
had the radio on. Some FM station that only played Elvis
records.’

‘You missed Frusco and Barbara Dace informing the world that
we had a serial killer on Turtle Island, or as good as.’

‘What?’ Georgina stopped halfway between her door and the
car.

The misty rain started to penetrate the fine layer of hair
lacquer on Georgina's short raven hair. Leroy continued walking to
the car, opening the door and half entering the vehicle.

‘That's what I thought, and before you ask, no, I have no idea
what he's playing at.’

Georgina opened the passenger door and joined Leroy in the
dry, warm interior of the car.

‘That's what happens when you start thinking with your dick
instead of your head.’

Leroy smiled; he enjoyed listening to Georgina's barbed
tongue.

‘Not much point trying to pick up a copy of the tape just
yet.’ Leroy adjusted the rear view mirror slightly. A gesture that
seemed more out of habit than for any functional
purpose.

‘The day is barely two hours old and already it's throwing up
surprises.’ Georgina pulled down the sun visor and stared into the
vanity mirror. She pushed her hair back in to shape with her
fingers and wiped the corner of her mouth with her index finger
before pushing the visor back to its original position.

Leroy started the car engine. ‘St Mary's is just a mile or so
from Independence Bridge.’

He swung the car out of the motel. Georgina was not one of the
world’s greatest passengers but she was getting used to, and felt
confident with, his style of driving, which was unhurried and
smooth. She found herself wondering if peoples driving styles
reflected their true personalities, it certainly seemed the case
with Leroy.

‘I sent the tooth by courier to the FBI's laboratory in
Maryland late last night. Hopefully they should be testing and
cross referencing it by now.’ Georgina said as she stared out of
the window.

Some cars passed, heading out of Turtle Island to start their
day’s work. Headlights on, tyres sloshing in the wet tarmac,
squeezing out water from their treads. Georgina saw the camera case
lying on the back seat of the car.

‘You learnt how to use that thing?’

‘I read the book.’ Leroy’s self assuredness never wavered, not
over simple things or more complex frustrations. Georgina liked
that; she felt that if she needed him in a back up situation he
would be there.

‘
Thought you’d have a digital camera. This thing looks like it
was used to catalogue the animals on Noah’s ark.’ Georgina said,
lifting the SLR camera and peering through the
viewfinder.

The car tyres bumped over the small ridge that joined the main
land to Turtle Island via Independence Bridge.

‘Do you think Rick's still alive?’ Leroy glanced sideways, he
could see Georgina's face; she was looking tired, only slightly
refreshed from the night before. Though the black suit she was
wearing did little to add colour to her complexion.

‘Yeah, I think they are still alive. I also think that this is
what our friend wanted all along. Which is why he wouldn't kill
them straight away. Now would be a time for savouring their
position, their power, for want of a better word.’

Leroy looked back. ‘Did you get any sleep last
night?’

Georgina pretended to ignore Leroy's question, choosing to
look through the side window at a farmhouse, still lit with
electric light, waiting for the sun to burst through the mass of
grey that was blotting out its radiance.

‘I take it that means no.’

‘I got one or two hours.’ Georgina said ‘Sleep has been
something of a recluse of late.’