Turtle Island (16 page)

‘I’m gonna get drunk and then I’ll drink some more. Apart from
that I haven’t really made too many plans, you know.’

‘If you need to talk?’ Georgina left the offer
open.

Leroy raised his hand and rubbed the stubble on his chin with
his thumb. ‘I know...gotta lot of thinking to do. Lia is my
life.’

For a second or two, Georgina could see nothing other than a
lost child sitting next to her.

‘Airport’s ahead.’ Frusco called back.

Leroy immediately snapped out of his trance. Eyes alert once
more ready to work. The car squealed past wire-fenced gates that
ran parallel to a runway. Ahead, a helicopter sat impatiently,
rotor blades whirring cutting dark skies. It’s bright halogen
spotlight, a beacon leading the way, lighting a white path for
Norman Frusco to follow. Georgina dreaded the journey ahead of her;
not yet on the aircraft and her stomach was limbering up. The
prospect of low, night flying filled her with terror. She tried to
talk her way out of coming, saying that she would be back up in a
vehicle but Frusco wouldn’t allow her, arguing that if the search
proved fruitful there would be no time for anything else other than
a direct assault on the property. No time to call for back up. He
needed every fully trained professional at his disposal.

‘Got the search warrants, Rick?’ Leroy leaned
forward.

Rick waved them in his face bouncing the small wad of paper of
Leroy’s nose. The comic moment broke the tension briefly but the
feeling wasn’t to last. Everyone in the car knew that this would
probably be the last light moment of the night. Frusco pulled the
car to a halt some twenty yards from the chopper, another police
vehicle pulled up aside. Frusco was first out followed by Rick and
Leroy, Georgina took a deep breath and joined them. Four uniformed
officers, dressed in black, suited with Kevlar body armour and
helmets with toughened bullet protecting visors, ran to another
waiting helicopter. Their faces painted with nightstick to dull
glare from greasy, light reflecting skin. They entered the other
copter with a graceful ease that suggested that the manoeuvre was
born out of practice. Georgina put her foot on the landing board
and was hoisted inside by Leroy. Before she had sat down, the
helicopter had left the ground and was already twenty-five foot in
the air, starting to veer into a sharp right turn, a manoeuvre,
which helped Georgina locate her seat quicker than she anticipated.
She thumped onto the cushioning of the seat with little elegance,
much to the amusement of Frusco seated opposite.

‘You really do hate flying, don’t you?’ Leroy’s deep voice
boomed over the noise of the helicopter engine and rotors and into
the headphones Georgina had just placed over her ears.

Georgina didn't answer, choosing to spend her energy and
thoughts on securing herself with the safety belts instead. She sat
back and gripped the black harness, which criss-crossed her
shoulders, tugging on the black meshing and generally checking her
safety.

The chopper raced along, nose slightly down, allowing the
detectives an excellent view below. The night sky was clear with
perfect visibility. Georgina breathed deep, trying to calm her
nerves. She was aware of each breath, long and shallow.

Within what seemed to be seconds, Rick spoke into the small
mic connected to the cans on his head. His voice sounded
metallic.

‘Turtle Island up ahead.’

Even in the darkness, Georgina could see the river snaking
around the Island. The moon's glow reflected off the river’s
surface, highlighting its progress, circumnavigating the landmass.
She opened her map and found the mouth of the river. The first
house was no more than a mile in. As the two helicopters swept
past, it was obvious that the property was abandoned. The house was
old and left in a state of disrepair, broken windows and no door
with much of the roof’s slating missing. Frusco told the pilot to
carry on.

He could hear them coming. He watched the bright searchlights
weaving, scanning the fields. Searching, searching for
him.

‘Come and get me.’

Karen Fuller tried to move her tongue. Pushing it against the
towelling robe belt that Charles had used to gag her. She wanted to
swallow, finding it almost impossible. Saliva dribbled out of the
corner of her mouth, leaving a damp patch on the pillow. Sober
reality cast a shadow of degradation over the past twenty-four
hours. But she couldn't deny she had done things that even thinking
about them now, hours later, had given her a massive thrill. The
thrill of pain, of pleasure, of being helpless. It was dark once
more, between fear and uncertainty lay hunger. Karen had not eaten
since their meal the previous evening. She hadn't seen Charles for
hours, but the uncertainty was part of the fun. She tried to move
her arms and legs but to no avail, fishing wire cut in to her
wrists and ankles. Spread-eagled and naked, secured to the
bedposts, Karen Fuller wanted to shout for Charles but the gag
blocked out any sound she could muster. Had Charles simply
forgotten about her? Dark thoughts ran through her mind, visions of
being left alone. She tugged at the fishing line once more but
there was no way it was going to break. The cutting effect on her
wrists gave her the impression that her hand would sooner be
amputated than the line would break. What little she knew about
fishing drew her to the conclusion that the breaking strain of the
line must have been greater than her body weight. The need to
urinate now occupied her thoughts. Somewhere in the distance she
could hear a low buzzing hum. The noise was getting
closer.

Georgina marked a dark blue ring from a thick tipped felt pen
and ringed a circle on the map. A big black X obliterated the red
circle of the house they just flew over was.

‘Over half way there, three to go.’ Georgina said to herself.
‘Don't barf now.’

The copter swooped in a sharp upwards motion, leaving
Georgina's stomach on the floor; she leaned nearer the open door,
allowing a little fresh air to hit her face. A bright light was
burning in the near distance, like a beacon it drew the two
helicopters toward it.

‘Fifth time lucky maybe?’ Frusco said to know one in
particular.

Georgina hoped so, just so she could be on the ground. As they
drew nearer it was obvious that the light was emanating from what
should have been an unoccupied property. The house was a large two
story wooden construction; white slatted bargeboards covered the
facia. Frusco asked the pilot to sweep past low, circle and land in
the field adjacent to the house, some 60 yards from the river. They
needed to get in quickly on foot.

Frusco, Rick, Leroy and Georgina were going to go in through
the front, while the other team in the second chopper were going
round the back. Adrenaline was starting to push away Georgina’s
phobia; this definitely had possibilities. The helicopter hovered
briefly before setting down on the soft ground. Georgina stepped
from the helicopter; the rotor blades had shifted enough air to
cool the immediate temperature by about 15 degrees. Rick and Leroy
were already running ahead, Frusco lagged a little behind. Georgina
soon caught up with the portly detective. They were now running at
top speed toward the door of the house. The ground was uneven with
the grassed lawn overgrown. Georgina was very aware of her footing.
The second team were already in position around the back of the
house, awaiting instruction. Frusco made the door last, puffing
heavy, seconds after Georgina. He composed himself and nodded to
Rick and Leroy

‘Let’s go.’

Charles Fleisher had been watching the television when he
heard the sound of the two helicopters landing nearby. He quickly
rose to his feet and walked to the window. Pulling the curtain
back, Charles saw the two vast machines taking off again and flying
back toward Missouri.

‘Strange.’

He headed to the bedroom; she would be ready now for another
session. Karen was still tied to the bed, small traces of blood
appeared around her ankles and wrists. She was moaning, it was hard
to tell exactly what she was saying. All Charles heard was moaning.
Karen lifted her head and saw Charles standing at the entrance of
the room. He was holding a knife. She dropped her head back to the
pillow, struggling was painful and a useless waste of energy. The
fear was exciting, she felt incredibly aroused. Charles walked
toward the bed; with each step he took, Karen's excitement grew.
She had enjoyed the pain. At first she was sceptical. The lack of
freedom, the humiliation, the sheer raw pleasure. Together they had
done things that she had never in her wildest moments dreamt of
doing. Sex before was purely perfunctory with men and boys who had
no imagination, the focus was always on them, on what they wanted
and was often over so, so quickly. She wasn’t sure if she would
like games, but once the boundaries were withdrawn, Karen was
introduced to another world. A world where pain and pleasure walked
hand in glove, where humiliation enticed with fear heightened their
lovemaking. Charles stood naked in front of Karen. His right hand
gripped the handle of the carving knife. Its stainless steel blade
sparkled. He straddled across her body, his genitals brushing
against her stomach. Charles shimmied down her, tracing the knife's
blade between her breasts, trailing it down her stomach, stopping
at the small mousy blonde coloured mound of hair between her legs,
before gently entering her with the tip of the blade. Karen gasped
as the cold steel entered her body. Karen wanted to move, to
struggle, but the knife inside her kept her still, stiller than she
could ever imagine being. Charles removed the knife and placed the
tip of the blade in his mouth. His eyes closed tight as though with
pain. The blade jerked further in to his mouth with each cry, until
Karen saw a trickle of blood run down his chin and splash on to her
thigh. Karen's need to urinate now was overwhelming, brought on now
through fear though. She wanted to scream but all she could do was
watch this crazy naked man eating a nine-inch carving knife.
Charles coughed and pulled the blade from his mouth.

‘Don't struggle.’

Blood ran from Charles mouth down his neck and chest. He
slashed the knife to his right and at once one of Karen's arms were
free. He raised the knife and was about to slash out again to free
her other hand.

Leroy pulled back his size eleven boot, aiming it at the
middle portion of the flimsy door.

The door gave way with the first kick and within seconds
Georgina was entering the house behind Rick and Leroy. Frusco was
on the radio as he entered ordering the team at the back of the
house to enter. With quick succession they entered and cleared all
the rooms on the ground floor. Rick ran up the stairs gun ready, in
front of him. Georgina followed. Her firearm raised, pointing to
the ceiling. Leroy and Norman Frusco took the steps that led to the
basement. The door to the room ahead of Rick and Georgina was ajar.
Rick pushed straight through. Any procedure learned through
training, discarded. Georgina feared the worst; being three steps
behind Rick she was too late to pull him back. She grasped outward
with her hand, reaching for his jacket to pull him backwards, but
he was gone.

The door flew open and Charles Fleisher turned to see a man
pointing a gun, shouting at him. Charles was sitting straddled
across Karen Fuller. His right arm continued to slash through the
catgut, which tied Karen's left arm. Fleisher saw the flash from
the barrel of the weapon and briefly felt a stinging sensation.
Karen Fuller's free hand was fumbling with the gag around her
mouth, desperately trying to free it, when the side of Charles head
exploded, showering her in blood, bone and brain tissue. The dead
weight of Charles body collided with Karen pinning her to the
mattress. Charles dying body convulsed, flailing wildly, the knife
in his hand scoring deep flesh wounds across Karen’s face, neck,
arms, stomach and thighs, until a second shot rang out, stopping
Charles in his tracks, leaving the knife embedded deep in Karen’s
bare chest.

Georgina lowered her smoking gun.

‘Jesus fuck, Rick!’ She ran past a motionless Rick Montoya and
started to pull Charles Fleisher from Karen Fuller’s body. Helping
hands arrived, reaching out, pulling the dead estate agent away.
Georgina looked up to find Leroy there, ready with a sheet to cover
the teacher's nakedness.

‘An ambulance is on its way.’ Leroy touched Karen’s arm, while
Georgina untied the gag around Karen’s mouth.

‘He...He was going to...kill her.’ Rick finally
said.

Karen rasped, wincing through the pain. Her voice gurgled as
though she was swallowing water while talking. ‘No…no.’ Blood
seeped through the white sheet, spreading outwards like blotting
paper eating ink.

‘Where the hell’s the ambulance?’ Georgina shouted knowing
that they were helpless to the teacher’s plight. Karen raised her
arm and gripped Georgina’s sleeve. She coughed, vomiting blood,
then breathed in as deep as her lungs would allow, but never
breathed out. Her body stiffened, convulsing in a brief shudder
before falling limp. Georgina shook Karen, trying to get a
response. She quickly lay her down on the floor and pinched Karen’s
nose and blew air into her failed lungs. ‘Pump her chest
Leroy.’