Authors: Tina Lindegaard
Devil's Touch (18 page)
"Yes."
He listens.
"Yes, it’s been taken care of."
He waits, slowly getting annoyed at the silence on the other end.
"Yes, everything has been cleaned up."
He lets go of the door and looks at his wristwatch while sitting down on the car with one leg resting on the fender of the limo.
"The deal is on and the first step is concluded now. The other one in a moment."
He can hear the sound of an ambulance.
"Correction. Probably now."
He listens.
"The usual account. We’re always at your service and will go anywhere, anytime and in any way the client wants. Hmm."
He gets more comfortable and looks over at the entrance he has just walked out of.
"Goodbye."
He puts his hand down in his inside pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Slowly he opens the pack, puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights it. Then he takes out the phone he has just stolen from his pants pocket. He takes out the SIM card and holds his lighter under it. There’s a smell of burning electronics. Annoyed he throws it on the ground when he burns himself. A few seconds later, he picks it up and quickly wipes the phone clean with a tissue from the glove compartment. Then he places the phone under the front wheel of the car and wraps the burned SIM card in the cellophane from the cigarette pack so it forms a small ball in his hand. He puts the rest of the cigarettes in his pocket and puts the ball in the empty pack. Then he takes out a needle with a small plastic container from his pocket. The plastic container is no bigger than the cap of a marker. He looks at it for a while, and then places it in the empty pack of cigarettes, crunches it up and throws it in the nearest garbage can. The ambulance drives up and parks in front of him. He looks at his watch.
"About time."
He moves slowly and calmly and sits back down on the fender as he looks impatiently at his watch. The garbage truck is slowly coming closer, much too slowly in his opinion. It finally comes to a halt by the garbage can next to him. The two garbage men look straight at the driver.
"Are you just leaving?"
He shakes his head. Then one of the men get out of the truck and walks toward the garbage can. The driver quickly opens the door to the limo and gets out the black nylon shopping bag. He throws it in the garbage can and sits back down on the fender following every move of the garbage man. The garbage man glances over at the driver, but then quickly removes the bag in the can and replaces it before throwing the bag into the back of the truck.
"I think you need to turn on the shredder or else you’ll drop some of the garbage. It’s almost falling out.”
The garbage man shakes his head.
"There’s no need for that."
The driver still has the cigarette between his lips as he nods.
"You’ll drop something for sure."
The man looks at the driver and then pushes the button and starts the shredder.
"Only trying to help."
The door of the garbage truck slams shut and the two garbage men look at each other and shake their heads. The driver opens the door of the limo and sees that the paramedics are finally leaving the airport with the stretcher between them. He immediately recognizes her. She looks at him and he can see that her lips are moving.
"Yes, I know girl. But no one will understand you."
He feels a whoosh when the garbage truck passes very close to him, but he only smiles. The doors of the ambulance close, and it leaves the airport with the sirens on. Feeling very content, he quickly gets in to the car, rolls down the window and backs up until the crunching sound stops. Then he changes gear and drives away while checking in the rear window to see that the phone has been entirely destroyed.
"What was that about?!"
Her voice is shrill as she throws the black shopping bag on the floor. The dark window opens almost silently and the driver turns around in his seat.
"Is it done?"
She nods.
"Where are my clothes?"
He nods at the floor to her left.
"The ticket and the money are there too."
She grabs the bag and pulls out the clothes. Her hands are shaking when she opens the envelope. She pulls out the bills and starts stacking them on the leather seat next to her as she counts them.
"It’s all there. You don’t have to count it."
She shrugs and keeps counting.
"You couldn’t have given me some bigger bills?"
He shrugs.
"Money is money."
She stares at him with angry eyes and puts the first stack back in the envelope. The limo quickly glides through the traffic while rain clouds gather over the city. She puts the final stack into the envelope.
"Was is all there?"
His eyes are resting on her thighs which are almost fully exposed while she looks at the ticket.
"Are you clean?"
"Close the window. I need to get dressed."
"How far along are you?"
"How many times do I have to tell you?! I’m not pregnant! Close the window!”
"Glad to hear it. It makes things easier."
"Makes things easier?! But you’re not involved!"
She stares at him angrily while he activates the button and the tinted window slowly closes. He speeds up while keeping an eye on the clock in the dashboard. The traffic thins out and for the rest of the trip the window stays up. He slows down as they approach the airport and soon comes to a halt in front of the entrance. He gets out quickly and takes out her bags from the trunk. She walks over to him and starts opening one of the bags.
"You’d better keep the money on you in the airport and on the plane. It would be stupid to get caught with so much money in your bags in case they check them."
She looks at him for a long time, and then she puts the envelope in her pocket. She hesitates for a while before giving him the tin can. He stares at her in disbelief and then he shakes his head.
"In the bag!"
"You put it in the bag."
He shakes his head, stares intently at her, then takes a firm grip on her elbow and leads her over to the car door which he opens routinely.
"In the bag."
She leans into the car and strands of hair come loose from her pony tail. He hears the sound of metal against glass and sees how her coat rides up taking her t-shirt with it and leaving the pale skin at the edge of her jeans exposed. Then she stands up and looks thoughtfully at him and turns on her heels and walks away. He smiles and follows her. She opens one of her bags.
"You haven’t put anything in here that’ll get me stopped in security, have you?"
He shakes his head indifferently.
"That was the last favor you owed me."
"I never owed you anything."
He sighs.
"Hmm. Call it what you want."
He gets brutally cut off, but goes on.
"Go home to your parents and forget all about this. You have enough money."
He looks at his watch and she follows his eyes.
"Almost two thirty. Time to make the call."
"What call?! Come on, you don’t care enough to actually make me call my parents."
"No of course not. I want you to call the police."
She looks surprised.
"And what do you want me to tell them?"
"Just call them up anonymously and report the murder."
"Turn myself in?! Are you nuts?!"
"You just said that I’m off the hook. Nothing more I need to do."
His face changes and she takes another step back.
"Just make the call. It’s OK. You can always throw the phone away later."
She looks around. There’s people everywhere around them. She lowers her shoulders a little as she looks at him.
"Remember, the airport is full of cameras."
He looks at her for a long time and then opens the door to the front seat.
"The phone is in the glove compartment."
She looks at him for a while.
"Just remember that I know you’ve committed a murder. You just confirmed that."
He blinks at her. She closes her eyes and shakes her head. Then she gets into the car and opens the glove compartment. Next to the gun there’s a phone just like he said.
"Hmm, tell me something…"
She turns to face him.
"…Stuart Pettersson is dead now."
He looks at her attentively.
"I used to deliver…"
She nods at the bag.
"…to an apartment down town. His… Stuart Pettersson’s I found out. You know how fast the gossip columns work. Behind him in the apartment I saw a young girl that night. She had dark hair. Pretty actually, but young. Maybe at an age where you would start asking some questions.”
The driver starts to push the door back and forth just a little.
"I saw her on the street later. She wasn’t beautiful anymore. She had dark rings under her eyes and was way too thin. She was going to hell fast."
She stops and he is visibly annoyed.
"What do you want to know?"
"How come she ended up in his net?"
"How should I know?"
She smiles.
"I have done my homework. You have been his driver for years and now you’re James Schmidt’s preferred driver. Strange!"
He breathes heavily.
"I don’t work for any of them. I work for a small company."
"Hmm. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re the one driving them around.”
"Well, a lot of people are ready to talk for the right price."
She touches her coat pocket slightly. The driver knocks his finger against the car door a couple of times and breathes in deeply. He looks down at her.
"Stuart had a thing for young girls."
"Let’s call them very young."
He tightens his grip on the door so his knuckles turn white.
"Especially a pair of girls who were almost the same age. One was dark and one was fair."
"Poetic."
He stares at her intensely.
"They lived with their mother in a cute little yellow house."
He blinks at her before going on.
"We often drove by the playground and often stopped there."
"The playground?! That young."
"He sometimes got out and sat down on a bench to look at them. They were usually together on the playground, but one time the dark haired one had run home and he disappeared with the fair one."
He can hear how she moves around in her seat, but he keeps looking at her.
"When she was a teenager, he managed to persuade the dark haired one."
He stops and stands up straight.
"The first time I drove her home from the apartment, I could see that she’d been crying. Stuart had taken her down to the car."
He looks away briefly and then back at her.
"He looked very pleased.”
He looks at her for a little while before continuing.
"She died from an overdose..."
"Now, make the call!"
She slams the door closed, but right away he opens it a little.
"What is it now?"
"I want to hear what you say to them."
She dials the number and waits.
"There’s a dead man in..."
The driver scans the parking lot around them and stops when he sees the garbage truck slowly approaching. She opens the door and gets out.
"Let’s get you sent off."
"What about the phone?”
"Throw it in a garbage can inside."
"But..."
"There’s so many people that no one will notice. And nobody calls up that phone."
They speak no more of it and he gives her his hand to say goodbye. She feels a sting in the palm of her hand and quickly pulls it back.
"Ouch."
She stares at him hatefully, but he just smiles at her. He elegantly picks up her bags and shows her the way, professionally taking on the part of limo driver.
