Turtle Island (32 page)

Gary Clarkson put his mother to bed and headed back into the
general store. The rain had continued falling throughout the day
and still fell with relish from the sky. He spent half an hour
explaining to his mother that he was going to open the store and a
further half hour reassuring her that she had nothing to be worried
about. Sure there was a killer out there somewhere on their little
island upsetting the ph level of life but they were safe. He
wandered through the darkened shop and turned the closed sign to
read open and unlocked the door. As he walked back the lights
flickered on signalling to the arriving masses that one little
piece of Turtle Island was at least ready for the coming onslaught.
He busied himself filling shelves from the stock room until the
first of the night’s visitors arrived.

Frusco spent a sleepless night co-ordinating proceedings,
calling in the National Guard to cope with the increasing traffic
problems brought about by the invasion. By sunrise, the news crews
of every major network had established a base on or near the Island
and were beginning to make reports.

Leroy found two comfortable chairs and pushed them together
for Georgina to catch a few hours sleep. He pushed himself into a
third chair, resting his feet on a table, despite being
uncomfortable, fatigue made sleep an easy but fleeting friend. He
was woken by the sound of Georgina’s alarm on her wristwatch.
Daylight was creeping through the blinds; she continued to sleep
until the last ring of the alarm, which finally managed to stir
her. Georgina opened her eyes. Her arm was pinned under her head
and her face was squashed into the side of the armchair. She had a
raincoat for a blanket and her own jacket on top of the raincoat,
her back ached and her legs felt heavy. She twisted around, her
skirt protested, cutting into her stomach. Leroy moved his feet
from the table and hoped that his morning glory erection would die
before she noticed. He shuffled uneasily on the chair trying not to
draw attention to himself.

‘Hi.’ Georgina’s voice was dry, slightly gruff. She coughed to
clear her throat. The taste of the Pizza came back to haunt her.
Georgina rubbed her face and had to study her watch with intense
concentration, before she could manage to decipher the time in her
muggy brain.

‘Six o’clock.’ Leroy helpfully offered. He leaned forward and
stretched his neck knowing from experience that the pain would
disappear within an hour.

‘God, I need a shower.’ Georgina said relishing the idea of
being able to freshen up.

‘Well, I didn’t want to be the first to say.’ Leroy
joked.

Georgina pulled a cushion from behind her and flung it at the
detective.

‘Hey, if you’re lucky I won’t mention your boner to the guy’s
in the canteen.’ Georgina replied with lightness in her voice that
hadn’t been there for some time.

Leroy looked down at his crotch. ‘How did you
know?’

‘I didn’t, but you just confirmed it.’ Georgina
laughed

‘Shit.’ Leroy stood and turning his back, adjusted his
trousers. ‘Excuse me.’

Georgina stretched her body and slid out of the chairs. She
pulled the zipper to her skirt up. ‘I’m gonna get a shower and
something wholesome for breakfast, before I even look at
anything.’

‘Good Idea.’ Leroy picked his jacket up from the
floor.

The two detectives left the small office. The computer monitor
was still online. As they passed Georgina noticed that the figures
on the counter had changed dramatically.

When Jo-Lynn woke she was aware that her feet and nightdress
were dry for the first time in days. She was hungry. It had been a
long time since the bread and soup. It had been a long time since
he was there. She looked at the soles of her feet. The wounds were
beginning to close, though they were still red raw near the edges.
She pressed against the torn skin. The pain that shot up her legs
went straight to her pain receptors in her brain. The dirty water
had infected them. Jo-Lynn stood but nearly fell straight over.
Biting into her lip to stop her screaming. She pulled her
nightdress up to just above her waist and tied a knot in it,
determined to keep it dry, then frailly stepped down into the
water. It seemed to be colder than ever and twice as murky. She
stayed near the edge, close to the stairs, remembering the rat, and
surveyed the room. The rats appeared to be gone. She moved to the
centre of the room, to where her chair was. Each painful step was a
mile. Jo-Lynn righted the chair then started to drag it over to the
wall with the vent. Half way across, the chair legs bounced against
something, and for a moment would go no further until she tugged
hard to free it. When she reached the vent, she stood on the chair
seat and tried to peer down the small shaft where what little fresh
air there was, was coming from. She could feel the air on her face
but there was not one chink of light. Maybe it was night she told
herself. Her mind went back to the obstruction in the middle of the
floor. She climbed down off the chair and limped to the area.
Bending down she searched with her hands through the muddy water.
Her fingers scraped against the stone floor until they came to a
tiny dip. She knelt down, pulling her nightdress higher above her
breasts tying it with a knot, once more determined to keep it dry
even at the cost to her dignity. She leaned an arm deeper into the
water. Her fingers became her eyes, trying to gauge exactly what
she had stumbled across. She could feel a metal ring. Jo-Lynn
traced along the edge until she was sure. Hope began to rise for
the first time since she was kidnapped. She was sure she had found
some form of a trap door.

Matthew Gates sat looking at his computer screen eyes wide
open, heart thumping through his chest. His friends were equally
quiet; five of them were crammed into the small bedroom.

‘See, I told you.’ Matthew said looking behind him for
approval from his friends, Ralph Ramierez, Matt Colman, Jimmy
Freedan and Paul Connor.

His friends stared at the screen with disbelief. The group of
boys, all of them just in their teens were for once at a loss for
words.

‘Are you sure this is real?’ Jimmy asked, his face a mass of
freckles that almost joined to make his skin looked orangey
brown.

‘It’s real man, didn't you see the news?’ Paul said pushing
between Karl and Ralph for a better view. ‘Wow, you can see her
tush...oh man, I don’t believe it, she’s just turned
round.’

The gaggle of boys fought hard for a better viewing position
around the 17-inch monitor

‘Yeah.’ Ralph said. ‘I saw the news but they didn’t show you
this.’

‘D’you think it’s for real?’ Matthew asked, briefly glancing a
look behind.

‘We can vote on who he stiffs next, her, the boy, or her old
man? Then he’s gonna do it live on the net tonight.’

‘Yeah, he might even fuck her man, before he does it.’ Jimmy
said, adding. ‘She’s a hot looking bitch.’

The door to Matthew’s bedroom opened. Matthew’s mother entered
holding a tray with a pitcher of orange juice and four glasses.
Still dressed in her dressing gown. ‘Now you guys don’t be late for
school.’

Matthew quickly clicked on to his previous saved page. The
image of Jo-Lynn was replaced with Madonna’s home page from an
unofficial web site. She placed the tray down on the desk next to
her son, unaware of either her son’s computer activities or the
fact that his four friends were getting a choice view of her
breasts as she lowered herself to put the tray down. Jimmy Freedan
fought hard not to faint; his whole body throbbed with excitement
as he managed to glimpse one of Aileen Gates nipples.

‘I’m gonna take a shower Matt, keep an ear open for Bob. He’s
coming over to drop me off to work this morning. If he comes tell
him I won’t be long and show him to the lounge.’ She stroked Matt’s
face and kissed his head, then ruffled his hair before leaving.
Much to his embarrassment.

‘Okay, Mom.’ He watched her leave.

‘Your mom is fit, man.’ Jimmy said

Matt looked at his friend .‘Seriously sick.’ before clicking
the forward icon on his browser. The screen appeared but Jo-Lynn
was nowhere to be seen

‘Ah man, she’s gone.’ Karl moaned.

‘Maybe she’s just outta camera.’ Ralph offered. ‘Taking a pee
or a dump.’

‘That I don’t want to see. Cheers Ralph, trust you to raise
the tone.’ Matt said dryly, forcing a spate of suppressed laughter
from the other boys.

‘Hey, we should vote.’ Paul said, which surprised Matt, as
Paul was the studious quiet thinker in the group.

‘Yeah, let’s stiff the bi-artch.’ Jimmy repeated.

Matt clicked on the icon at the bottom of the page. The voting
page appeared with the three faces of Rick Montoya, Jo-Lynn and
Ray.

‘Look, she’s in the lead.’ Jimmy said barely able to contain
his excitement.

‘Yeah by two thousand votes, then it’s the boy.’ Matt looked
at the counters below the photos. ‘Who shall we vote
for?’

The four boys in unison replied as one. ‘The bitch.’ And
laughed.

Across the country in bedrooms, offices and games rooms people
were starting to vote by the thousand, snared into what appeared to
be something between a game and reality.

Matt’s hand hovered over the left hand button on his mouse
while he positioned his cursor under the picture of Jo-Lynn. Only
fleetingly did he feel any responsibility when he clicked to the
roaring approval of his friends.

Georgina stood under the piping hot water for what appeared to
be an age, allowing the pressurised water to sooth her aching
shoulder muscles and ease away the tension in her neck. Her mind
was whirring away, thinking about the case. She kept coming back to
the diary.

‘Rick Montoya knew Charles Fleisher...Why? What did Stephen
England want and how did he know Rick?’

She rinsed the shampoo from her hair and continued thinking,
mulling over the options. Fleisher’s name kept returning like a bad
penny. Whatever she personally thought about his implication in the
killings of Dalton, and England she knew one thing for sure,
Charles Fleisher had killed Karen Fuller and was responsible as
surely as if he had put a gun to her head, ruining the life of his
daughter Harley to the bargain. Then the bad penny that kept
returning suddenly dropped. Georgina stepped from the shower
cursing to herself. The missing link was right in front of them all
along and not once did they see it. She wrapped a large bath towel
around herself and ran out of the women’s shower room across the
hall straight into the men’s locker room, past the protesting naked
foot patrollers and squad car drivers called in for early duty to
cope with the influx of America on to their little
island.

‘LEROY...LEROY.’ She blurted excitedly, looking over the
shower stalls and doors trying to find the detective, apologising
to every white and black ass that wasn’t her partners. Leroy was
standing under the showerhead facing the door, with soapsuds
through his hair, running down his slightly overweight chest and
stomach. Georgina stopped at the door and for a few seconds took in
the full picture of his nakedness before speaking.

‘Leroy, I think I may have found the link.’

Leroy peered through a half open eye hoping soap wouldn’t run
down into it. He thought he had heard Georgina. He wiped his face
clear of suds and blinked. Sure enough she was standing there,
right in front of him. A clear glass partition was not enough to
save his modesty.

‘What the...’

‘Get dry and meet me in your office.’ She had turned before
Leroy managed to complete his sentence. ‘Oh and by the way Leroy…
nice Johnson.’ She smiled then walked out of the locker room to
complete shocked silence.

By the time Leroy reached his office, Georgina was already
sitting behind his PC. Files from the ‘Fleisher killings’ lay
scattered on the floor and over what little spare desk space was
left.

‘Do you mind telling me what all that was about in the locker
room?’ Leroy looked for once ruffled, and genuinely
pissed.

‘We have been so dumb. So caught up in it, that we missed
something that was so obvious.’ Georgina took a deep breath of
apathy, disgusted at her own oversight.

‘So enlighten me.’ Leroy said. His patience already stretched
to the limit without the need for any more guessing
games.

‘It was so obvious.’ Georgina found it hard to reconcile her
revelation. ‘Children, Leroy, children.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I’ve checked through the files.’ She spread the folders out.
‘We got films of Fleisher abusing his daughter. Some of the films
include other people. How many of those have we followed up and
investigated?’

Leroy shrugged his shoulders

Georgina gave a hollow laugh. ‘None...not one.’

‘Wait, wait, what are you saying, that this is some sort of
paedophile ring?’

‘I don't know.’ Georgina seemed to be asking for support. ‘But
it gets worse. I think Rick is involved somehow.’

Leroy physically staggered. ‘No way. No way, he loved his
kids.’