The Lover's Children novel Chapter 129

CHARLOTTE

Gravel arcs from under the tires as Chad spins his car through one-eighty then screams through the gate. “Which way? Gotta be downhill surely?”

“Where would he take her further up the mountain?”

One hand crossing over the other, he spins the wheel around, taking s-bends at breakneck speed. “How far ahead of us will he be?”

“I… I don’t know. I was panicking. I couldn’t think about anything but Mom and the children. I’m not sure how long it took me to get out. I think he’s had time to get off the mountain and onto the main highways.”

“Just as well he took your mom’s car. At least we know what we’re following…” His words trail off, then, “Fuck!”

Mom’s car.

Abandoned by the roadside, the driver’s door swings open.

Close by, fresh tire tracks lead downhill.

“Don't stop,” I say.

“We don't know what we're following.”

“A redheaded woman at the wheel and a man in the back with a baby, should be fairly distinctive. Mom’s face should show up on the cameras at the speed traps.”

“Assuming she's still driving.” He squeals around one of the zig-zag bends. “Call the police back. Tell them your mom’s car was dumped and where.”

*****

MICHAEL

The motel looks standard enough. Completely ordinary.

As we approach the gate, I say, “Slow down. Behave normally…” Klempner shoots me a white-rimmed glare… “… If Harkness has a view of the highway, we don’t want to alert him.”

He nods, terse and tight. Still, he doesn’t so much park the vehicle as abandon it at the reception entrance. Vaulting up and out of the driver’s seat, he slams a hand onto a wired glass panel, barging open the door, barging into the office. I’m two seconds behind him, pizza box in hand.

Behind the counter, thick-lensed spectacles wear an alarmed expression, a mouse-coloured comb-over above, and a Spiderman tee-shirt below, although according to the name-bade, Spiderman has renamed himself, ‘Walter’. A hand hovers below the counter, perhaps to a panic button. “Can I help you?”

Klempner bullies up to the counter, snarling. “We need information, and right now. A man with a woman and a baby. Both redheads. Within the last two hours.”

Walter, eyes widening, eases back. “Hey, I can't just hand out that kind of information…”

“Larry, let me.” I hook a hand into his elbow, easing him away from the counter, opening the space between the pair. “Listen, it’s urgent. The police are on the way. The man we’re after is the killer they called the Surgeon. Maybe you saw it on the news a while back? That a man chasing him was hit by a car .”

I jerk a thumb at Klempner… “Larry here is that man. And the woman and child with him are Larry’s wife, Mitch, and his daughter, Vicky. We think he’s using the baby as a hostage but you know what the Surgeon does to women…” I pause for effect…

Walter nods vigorously. “Yeah… I saw that on the TV…” His mouth snaps shut. The countertop snaps up. The words snap out. “They’re in Number Fourteen. Police are on their way, you say?”

“Right behind us.”

He snatches a key from the board behind him, dangling it at us. “Master key.” He pauses… “How did you find them?”

“She’s clever is Mitch. Managed to get a message out on the pretence of ordering pizza.”

He marches for the door. “Yeah… This way.”

“Is it far?”

“Two-minute walk.” He leads us out and past ranks of identical chalets. “As they checked in, y’know, something felt off. They just didn't look like a couple. You know how people sort of match each other when they’ve been together a while…”

“…They didn’t. For a start, she looked so well turned out, ‘least, so far as I could see. But him… He stank… And he was carrying the kid. I mean, some fathers do, don’t they. But he didn't seem like he knew how to carry a baby. My wife blasted me the first time I picked up our young ‘un. Said I handled her like a bag of potatoes.”

White-faced, Klempner’s patting himself down, making an obvious inventory check. “He kept hold of my daughter? Separate from her mother?”

“That’s right.”

“What did my wife do? Did she say anything?”

“She was in the driver’s seat. Stayed in the car while he paid, but she had the window wound down. She was watching him the whole time. Didn’t look happy at all. Then, he got into the back seat again with the baby and she drove them to the chalet…”

“…He’d pre-booked, just a coupla hours before, and he was specific that he wanted the chalet that was most out of the way. Number Fourteen’s right at the end and it’s set back from the others. And he was interested that we didn’t have many guests staying.”

“He would be,” I mutter, then, “You want to charge straight in?”

Klempner slips his knife from its holster at the back. “He’s keeping Mitch and Vicky separated. We need to know where they both are. You go to the front. Try to draw him out. I’ll go round the back, see what I can find. Don’t go charging in unless it seems necessary right there and then. Unless…” He jabs a finger at me… “Unless he’s carrying Vicky as he comes to the door. In that case, get her off him and yell. I’ll go in at the back.”

“Here…” Walter points at the pizza box. “Gimme that. I’ll knock and call. He'll recognize me. Less likely to suspect something. You two can hang one side of the door and the other.”

“I’m Michael. This is Larry. You talk like you’ve done this before.”

He nods. Gives a depreciating grin. “No, the odd drunk or family dispute. Never anything like this. But I’ve seen all the movies...”

Klempner, despite the situation, finds the energy to roll eyes and mutter under his breath then, “Is there a rear entrance to this chalet?”

“Sure. Safety regs, y'know.”

“What's the layout inside?”

“All the same. Small entrance hall as we go in. Bathroom to the left, then single bedroom. Main bedroom off to the right. Kitchen-come-living area at the end with the rear exit.”

“What kind of locks on the doors and windows?”

“Just standard stuff. Nothing special. But they’ve all got bolts on the inside.”

“What's to the back?”