Jon Evans - Dark Places

We walked, fast and quiet. At first there was nothing to talk about. But it was a long walk, I figured ninety minutes at our quick-march pace, and there was plenty of time to think. And the more I thought, the more a terrible suspicion began to creep into my mind.

For a moment, back at the hotel, only a moment, I had wondered if one of us might be helping Morgan. I had immediately dismissed the idea. The notion of Hallam or Nicole aiding Morgan was simply insane. I was absolutely certain that Steve, for all of his ex-con past, was more likely to French-kiss a crocodile than do anything to unnecessarily harm anyone else, especially Nicole. And I had figured that surely Lawrence too was beyond suspicion. But now, as I walked and thought, dangerous facts began to array themselves in my mind, and I began to question that last conclusion.

There was a reason Lawrence had been one of my original suspects. Not just because of his fling with Laura and his almost-overwrought grief after she died. He was a quiet man, closed off to the world. Funny and friendly, sure, but he had never shown much of what lay hidden beneath that layer of personality. I couldn't say that I knew what Lawrence was like, what made him tick, the way I knew the other three.

Morgan could have sniffed out the threat to him here, ambushed and captured Nicole, all by himself. He was quite capable of it. But it would have been easier, much easier, if one of us had fed him information, had been on his side.

In Indonesia, when Morgan and I found each other, when he was briefly rattled by my presence, the only other trucker he had mentioned by name was Lawrence.

The night Laura had died, Lawrence had gone off with Morgan to the nearby town of Limbe. They had left together. And Lawrence hadn't been seen until the next morning.

Nothing conclusive. Far from it. Suspicious. That was all. Surely there was no reason, no conceivable reason, for Lawrence to aid Morgan.

Unless Lawrence too was a member of The Bull.

For a moment I felt like my legs were marching along by themselves, as if the connection between my muscles and by mind had been severed. A cold trickle of sweat began to seep down my back. It added up. I wanted to pretend it did not, but it all added up. Nothing conclusive. But try as I might I couldn't think of any way to disprove my terrible new theory. It was entirely consistent with the facts. And if it was true, then we were walking straight into an inescapable trap.

I wanted to stop, think, change the plan. But it was too late. We had to keep going despite my newfound doubts. There was no time to come up with some excuse to change things so that Lawrence stayed behind at the hotel. Not if we were going to save Nicole. The only thing I could do, the thing I had to do, was somehow try to work out whether Lawrence was trustworthy before we made it to the kill site.

I was tempted to just stop and ask him straight out. The surprise might force a revelation from him. But if it didn't, and if he was guilty, then he would be wise to my suspicion. Maybe it would be better to leave him guessing.

"Lawrence," I said.

"Yeah."

"How do you think he figured it out?"

A pause. "No idea, mate. No fucking idea."

"He must have been suspicious. Maybe he traced our company and found out it didn't exist. He must have been following us right from the start. It's like he was watching everything we did."

"Nothing we can do about it now. Hope and pray, mate, that's all."

"What about Steve?" I asked.

Lawrence's pace faltered. "What about him?"

"What if he gave us up?"

"Steve? What in Christ's name are you talking about?"

"He's an ex-con. I don't know half of what he's been involved in. Neither do you. He keeps it all pretty shady. What if he's working with Morgan? What if he's part of The Bull?" If Lawrence was guilty he would be eager to deflect suspicion elsewhere.

"Your nerves are getting to you, mate," Lawrence warned. "Try and stay cool. For Nic's sake. There's no fucking way. You know that. Steve part of The Bull? That's as likely as — " He stopped abruptly.

I waited a moment, then said "What?"

"You're a subtle motherfucker, aren't you?"

I didn't know what to say to that.

"You're not really asking about Steve." It wasn't a question.

I swallowed. "No."

Lawrence came to a full stop. After a moment so did I.

"Look at me," he said, his voice taut and intense. "Shine the light right in my fucking face."

I did so. Every muscle on his face was rigid, etched with tension and emotion.

" I loved her too, " he said. "At least as much as you did. At least as much."

We stared at each other for a moment.

"I'm sorry," I said, quietly, inadequately.

"Fuck it." He shook his head. "Let's move."

For the next hour we walked in silence.

"That's far enough, boys," Morgan called out, and we both started with dismay and took a few quick steps back. A bright light winked into existence, a flashlight beam, and I covered my eyes as he shined it at my face. This wasn't supposed to happen, we were supposed to hear them before we reached them and take at least partial cover behind a rock. I waited hopelessly for him to shoot.

He didn't, and I took advantage of the delay to unscrew the head of my Maglite, turning it from a flashlight into a lamp. Even after a ninety-minute trek the light was bright enough to illuminate the scene. We were about ten feet past the turn into the fifty-foot straightaway that we had selected. The trail here was about eight feet wide. About midway there was a big boulder against the cliff face, maybe five feet in diameter, and Morgan leaned on the other side of it, using it for cover. He had his Maglite in one hand and, as expected, a sleek black handgun in the other. An automatic. We could barely see his face, it appeared only in outline, except for the whites of his eyes and his pale toothy grin.

A few feet in front of him, between him and us, Nicole sat beside the boulder with her back to the cliff face, her arms tied behind her, gagged with some kind of rag. Like Laura had been gagged. Nicole seemed unhurt. She swiveled her head back and forth at us and Morgan, eyes wide.

"Hands up," Morgan said nonchalantly, and we complied. "Now where are the others?"

"They're not here," I said. My mouth was dry but my voice was steady.

"Don't fuck around, Woodsie. You want to see her get a kneecapping and have this conversation over a nice soothing soundtrack of screams?" He aimed his gun at Nicole's knee. She froze and closed her eyes.

"They're not fucking here," Lawrence grated. "We thought you were lying, you fucking bastard cunt. We thought you'd gone the other way."

Morgan looked at us both, shone his light at our faces again, and then nodded regretfully and lowered the gun. "Aye. Suddenly realized when I got here that that might happen. The boy who cried wolf, hey? O ye of little faith. Tis a pity Hallam didn't join you. I had this delicious notion of making the rape and torture of his wife the last thing he saw in his life. Still, like Meat Loaf didn't say, three out of five ain't bad. Now why don't the two of you get down on your knees like good little boys? Don't like seeing you all ambulatory and all. You might get some crazy ideas in your heads about rushing me or running away and, well, you know, it's like a dinner party. After all this preparation you'd hate for some cunt to get stupid and ruin it all."

We dropped to our knees, encouraged by his gun.

"That's better," he said. "Bit surprised, were you? Bit shocked to get that note from your old mate Morgan? Old Hallam, old king of the heap, he was a bit taken aback I reckon?" He laughed. "Don't think much of your old mate's mental capacities, do you? Figured I was a bit slow on the uptake, eh Woodsie? Figured if some random stranger called me up and offered me a practically complimentary trip I'd just sign up and be damned? Didn't think a few alarm bells might start ringing in the old cranium, thinking, crikey, this sure is coming thick and fast after I nearly separated old Woodsie's head from his shoulders, isn't it? I reckon I haven't got your lightning computer mind, Woodsie, but I can put a thought or two together when I need to, aye? I can keep a step ahead of you when needs be."