Safe as Houses (20 page)

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Authors: Simone van Der Vlugt

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #General

BOOK: Safe as Houses
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A door opens and closes in the kitchen, and Senta quickly sits back down on the sofa. Mark comes in and gives her an apologetic smile. ‘I was doing
some DIY in the garage and left my mobile there. I've called her, but my wife isn't answering.'

‘Oh,' Senta says disappointedly.

‘I'll get her to give you a ring, all right?'

His tone has suddenly changed, as though he can't quite keep up the polite way they've been talking to each other. Something about his bearing – the tight line around his mouth and the tense way he is standing – tells Senta that for one reason or another he's doing his best to appear friendly.

Maybe she'd better leave. Just a quick trip to the loo first – she's got a long journey back. She asks for permission with an apologetic smile, and Mark acquiesces with a curt nod.

As she's sitting on the toilet, Senta looks around her. Even this space has been made cosy. On the shelf above the toilet there are scented candles and soaps and even a handmade calendar on the wall, complete with pictures. Senta can't resist the temptation to turn the pages. On each one is a handwritten line saying where the picture was taken and who it shows.

Crete. Mark, Anouk and Lisa
.

Senta looks in shock at the photo. She recognises the woman from the pictures on the dresser. She also sees a toddler and a handsome man with longish dark hair, but that isn't the Mark who is walking around this house. How strange. And the
man is acting so oddly. Something's wrong. She doesn't know what or why, but something is wrong in this house. And at that moment she remembers why the man looks so familiar. She's seen him before, on the news – his name is Kreuger, something Kreuger.

Oh my God! She has to get away quickly!

She hurries to get up, pulls up her pants and brushes her skirt down over her knees. She's about to unlock the door when she hears Mark, or Kreuger, or whatever he's called, coming into the hall. Senta pulls back her hand as though the lock is electrified. Her heart is in her throat. She throws a soap into the toilet bowl, followed by a second shortly afterwards. The splashing sounds, following by the noise of the toilet roll uncoiling, make Mark return to the sitting room.

Senta quickly shoots the lock and opens the door. Through a chink in the open sitting-room door she can see Mark staring out of the window, his hands in his trouser pockets. She rushes to the front door and pushes down on the handle. It doesn't give; the door is locked.

42

The panic attack courses through Senta, gripping like a tight band around her chest and sweeping a layer of sweat across her forehead. She pants and wheezes. She tries to speak sternly to herself to prevent herself from hyperventilating.

Calm down, calm down, she thinks. Don't let him see that you've sussed him. If you deal with this in the right way, you'll be able to walk straight out of here.

At the same time, she asks herself how she can return to the sitting room. He'll see in a single glance what kind of a state she's in. But she can't stay here either.

While Senta is pulling herself together, the sitting-room door swings open, and she is shocked to find Kreuger standing there before her.

She is struck by how effortlessly his name had
popped out of her memory. She hadn't paid that much attention to the news story about his being missing. If she had, she'd know what kind of man she's dealing with now.

She rubs her hands on her skirt and looks at Kreuger's inquisitive face.

‘Everything all right?' he asks.

Senta smiles weakily. ‘Low insulin levels. I should have eaten something before I left the house. I missed lunch and after a while things start to go wrong.'

It's not clear whether he believes her, but he looks at her carefully.

‘I really should go, I'm holding you up.' Her voice sounds uncertain. To hide her fear she turns back to the front door and tugs at the handle. ‘Oh, it's locked,' she says fakely. ‘Never mind, I'll go back out the way I came in. I'll find it.'

Kreuger leans against the doorpost and smiles. It's an odd way of seeing someone out. A voice in Senta's head screams at her to get out quickly, no time for procrastination. She steps past Kreuger, and their bodies brush briefly. Then she's in the sitting room and has to restrain herself from running.

Just do it, she impresses on herself. Just say goodbye normally; otherwise he'll get suspicious.

Her heels click on the wooden floor on the way to the kitchen. Halfway there she turns around and
says over her shoulder, ‘Thanks for your time. It would be great if your wife could call me.'

At the same time she realises she hasn't given him her telephone number, but she pretends not to notice this. Kreuger doesn't say anything. He stands in the same position, leaning against the doorpost, just watching her broodingly.

Alarm bells ring in her head. She dashes into the kitchen and throws herself at the back door.

It's locked. Panic really hits her then and she begins to scream, to push and pull. She swings the chair next to the kitchen table against the door, but it doesn't budge.

It's too late now, she sees, because Kreuger is with her and has something in his hands that makes her wild with fear.

In a desperate attempt to defend herself, she brings the chair down on Kreuger, but he brushes away the attack with a single stroke of his hand. Then he grabs the chair from her hands and tosses it to one side.

An electricity cable hangs in his hand. Senta's brain refuses to work, completely paralysed, but her instinct for self-preservation is harder to switch off.

Her muscles in her neck and shoulders tighten, like those of a cornered cat. A primitive urge breaks free in her and turns her fear into rage.

She throws herself at Kreuger with a scream.

Surprised by her attack, he falls back against the worktop. For a moment he is powerless against the violence of her clawing fingers, scratching nails and rising knee, which pounds into his crotch. Swearing loudly, he sinks down to the ground.

Senta runs into the sitting room. Her eyes dart around. The doors are locked, so the only place where she can run is upstairs. But she has no idea whether she can get out there, and there's a serious chance she'll be trapped. She'll have to find a weapon.

The first within hand's reach is a lamp with a cast iron base. A few seconds later it flies through the window, breaking the glass with a deafening crash. Using another, identical lamp, Senta knocks away as many of the glass shards obstructing her exit as she can.

Kreuger staggers into the room, and she screams. She holds the lamp base in front of her like a weapon, but this time Kreuger doesn't let her surprise him. When she raises the lamp to hit him, he grabs her arm and turns it ninety degrees.

Senta drops the lamp with a cry of pain, and the next instant she feels the cable around her neck. Her hand goes to her throat automatically in an attempt to pull away the noose, but Kreuger just pulls tighter. She is powerless. All she can do is let
out a few strangled sounds. Kreuger takes a couple of steps backwards, forcing her to walk backwards too, almost hanging herself.

‘Did you really think you'd get out of here alive?' Kreuger snaps at her. ‘I wanted to do it quickly and painlessly, but perhaps I should take my time.'

The pressure and pain are almost unbearable. Senta's eyes bulge, shockwaves pulse through her body, and flashes of light shoot through her field of vision.

She has felt like this before and said farewell to life. The memory of that feeling suddenly comes back to her in a flash. If she'd had a LifeHammer it would never have come to that. She would have been able to smash the window and swim away from her car.

Bright colours and strange forms appear behind her eyelids, among them a LifeHammer picked out in blazing fluorescent yellow.

One of her hands continues its hopeless attempt to get the electricity cable from her neck; the other feels for her coat pocket and reaches into it. A tapered, very sharp weapon pricks her palm. Somehow she gets it out, swings it forward and then back, using all her strength to smash it between Kreuger's legs.

A direct hit was inevitable, and Kreuger's high
screech is no surprise. The cable around her neck loosens a fraction, and she quickly seizes the chance to worm her fingers under it. Before Kreuger can react, she swings the hammer again, this time upwards. It strikes home in his face.

Freed from the pressure around her neck, Senta stumbles forward, into the sitting room. She sees Kreuger panting. He reaches for his eye with an almost childish sob.

Senta snorts like an animal fighting for its life, the hammer poised for attack, sweat prickling in her eyes.

But Kreuger has something else on his mind. He sinks sobbing and cursing on to his knees, his hands pressed against one of his eyes. Blood drips through his fingers.

Her sons' excited cheers fill Senta's head, the wild cries that accompany the violent video games they so love playing. Finish him off! Kill him!

A few seconds ago she had acted in self-defence. But to go over to a wounded man and deliberately finish him off is beyond her.

Half crying, she gets out her mobile phone and dials 112. As Kreuger crawls across the floor, screaming with pain, she explains as well as she can what has happened and where she is.

‘We are on our way, madam,' the call handler says. Out of the corner of her eye, Senta sees Kreuger
edging his way towards her. She lifts up her weapon in a flash.

‘Stay away from me or I'll smash your brains out!' she screams. ‘I've called the police. They're on their way!'

Kreuger slowly gets up, one hand still covering his eye. ‘Filthy bitch, did you really think you'd live to tell this story. I'll . . .' He launches himself at her, but his coordination is off. A quick step to one side is enough to avoid him, and Kreuger hits his head against the open kitchen door.

The impact is so hard that for a moment Senta thinks he's broken his neck. She looks at him warily from a few steps away. Even lying still on his back, his eyes closed, she doesn't trust him one inch. She walks around him in a semicircle, studying him from all angles, but doesn't take a single step in his direction. Her body is shaking so heavily that the LifeHammer moves backwards and forwards in her hand.

What she needs to do is stand here and keep an eye on him. If he moves, she can hit him again. The police are coming; it will take about ten minutes, a quarter of an hour at the most. Then this nightmare will be over. She can manage that.

The next instant she hears something. Senta pricks up her ears. There's a banging noise somewhere in the house. Again and again she hears it.
Senta looks around, not understanding. Is there someone else here?

Her eyes glide to the photograph of the woman and girl on the dresser, and suddenly she knows why she had to return to this house.

43

After casting one last glance at Kreuger, who is lying motionlessly on the floor, Senta goes into the kitchen. She inspects everything around her, but it all seems normal. But she hears someone crying for help. It sounds muffled, as though they might be in a cupboard, but it is most probably coming from behind the door in the utility room, which has been battened shut. Either in a great hurry or a great rage, someone has haphazardly nailed five planks across the door. It's not hard to guess whose work this is. There are a couple of empty bottles of methylated spirits lying in the corner. The planks barring the door are drenched in it, and there's a big puddle on the floor. It's not hard to guess what he was planning to do.

Pressing her face to the door, Senta shouts, ‘Is anybody there?'

‘Yes! We're trapped in here! Help us!' a female voice shouts back.

She'll need tools to get the planks off.

‘The door has been battened shut. I'm looking for something to open it with,' she shouts.

‘The other door leads to the garage.' The trapped woman's voice sounds closer now. She's probably standing just on the other side of the door.

Senta looks at the garage door and sees that it's ajar. As soon as she opens it, a strong smell seeps out, a smell of iron that has penetrated the whole room. At the same time she sees a dark shape lying on the ground.

Her first impulse is to dart back and slam the door shut. Instead she screws up her courage, turns on the light and glances at the shape: it's a man wrapped in a blood-soaked rug. It doesn't take much to ascertain that he is no longer alive. He is lying on his stomach, but a wide trail of blood leading from the door to the body makes it clear what has taken place in the house.

Someone has mopped up the blood in the house, but left the garage as it is.

Senta averts her gaze, walks past the body and looks for tools on the workbench. Plenty of choice. She returns to the utility room with a crowbar. She puts the claw behind the first plank determinedly. She places one foot against the wall and pulls hard.
It's slow going and costs her more energy than she'd expected, but after a while the planks lie in a pile at her feet.

‘The planks have gone, but I don't have the key,' Senta calls out.

By way of response, a key grates in the lock on the other side of the door, and it opens cautiously.

A pale female face, framed with messy blonde hair, peers at her through the narrow opening. ‘Where is he?' she whispers.

Senta nods in the direction of the sitting room. ‘He's there. Lying on the floor unconscious. Or dead, I'm not sure. Come.'

She slowly reaches out a hand for the woman and gently forces her to come out.

Senta is overcome with a feeling of sympathy. What on earth has this poor woman been through?

‘I'm Senta,' she says softly. ‘Don't be afraid. It's over. He can't hurt you any more.'

Tears appear in the woman's eyes. ‘Really?' she whispers. ‘Has he gone?' Then recognition crosses her face. ‘You're the woman who was at the window, who went to get help. Right?'

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