Stowaway (12 page)

I turn to him. My
confusion must show clearly as I glance down to his hand.

“Carl!
Your hand!”

“Ah,
my mistake.
It’s never the big things that give us away, is it?”

I can’t speak, and
he sighs.

“Well, would you
rather I switch elbows to keep up appearances?” he says, in a hard, mocking
tone. His grip is so tight now, clamping down on my arm.

“It’s you! You are
the murderer.”

“It certainly took
you long enough, dear. I prefer
DuPorte
connoisseur.
Everything else is just details.”

Carl folds his
cane and flicks off his sunglasses, tucking them into his pockets.

“I guess I don’t
need these any more. Thank God.
Such a pain.”

“What? You aren’t…

“Blind
and feeble?
How observant of you. No, I’m afraid I’m not. But, it was a
decent cover, don’t you think? You’d be surprised what people let a harmless
old man get away with.
Even murder.”

“Oh, magpie,” I
curse under my breath.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I say,
as he
pats
down my back and locates the microphone,
which he promptly rips off and tosses away. I hope
Aaliyah
has been listening, but know she probably hasn’t had time to finish setting up
yet. If so, no one knows about Carl but me. I’m on my own.

He roughly forces me
start walking back upstairs. But, he forgets to check for my cell or pepper
spray, both of which are tucked discreetly into my bra because I have no other
place for them.

“So, we’re not
headed to the auction then?
For the painting?”

“Of
course not!
I’ve already taken it. I was planning on attending to keep
up appearances, but now that I’ve stumbled across you, I think my plans have
been delayed. Too bad I made that silly mistake, using my right hand. I’ve been
so good with that around Teresa these past few weeks. Oh well. Now, I’ve got to
deal with you too.”

“Wait! Go back.
You’ve already taken the painting? I don’t understand…

“You ask too many
questions.”

I feel a sharp
pain in my throat, as he stabs me.

…

The next thing I
remember, I am being dragged along, somewhere dark.
In a box.
No, I see shafts of crosshatched light. I’m in Major’s crate. Carl must have
had it waiting somewhere. My neck throbs where the needle went in, and I
discover that nothing with my body moves like it should.

As I look around,
I can see Teresa’s in here too. By her glazed expression, I can tell she’s
dead. I wiggle as far away from her jostling body as I can. With great effort, I
manage to work my phone out of my bra and hit the button to record sound with
my nose.

“Don’t worry,
Maggie,” I hear Carl say from outside. “You probably feel a bit odd right now,
but it’s just the effects of the drug. It will wear off soon. I better get
going then, huh?”

Finally, we stop,
and by then, I have managed to tuck the back into place. We are outside. I can
see the morning sky is getting lighter. Soon, it will be bright, so I know
whatever Carl will do, it will be fast.

He opens the cage
door, and in my mind I kick his teeth in as I shove my way past and run away.
But, in reality I lay flopping like a fish, my limp body refusing to obey by
commands. Carl grabs me under each arm pit, hauls me outside onto a deck. It
just looks like generic ship and ocean from where I lay. No way to tell exactly
where I am.

Teresa’s blank
face suddenly plops in front of mine as Carl throws her beside me. Then, he
chucks the empty pet carrier overboard. I guess he doesn’t need it any more.
Poor Major. I feel bad for the monkey, who must have suffered a similar fate as
Teresa’s. I wonder if Carl just tossed him into the ocean, like the carrier,
when he was through using him as a prop.

I feel the old
man’s grip on me again as I am hefted over his shoulder. He balances me, and then
grabs Teresa too. He stacks her on me, carrying us like sacks of dog food. With
her cold, dead weight pressing on top of me, the three of us start ascending a
ladder.

Carl is shockingly
strong. He played the part of a handicapped person well, but under his baggy
clothes, is the physique of someone who trains hard. I guess it pays to be incredibly
fit if you are an art thief running from the law. No way could I fight him off,
even if I wasn’t drugged.

At the top of the
ladder, he ungracefully dumps both of us onto a hard surface. I recognize the
hollow thud of the metal as I hit, and the soft reverberation of footstep as he
walks with his uneven gait. I also recognize the black haze that shrouds us.
We’re on the platform.

I realize he is
taking us to the storage room. It takes considerable effort to turn my head but
I manage to. Yes, there is the smokestack. Why is there no security out here?
Of course, they are probably all at the auction.

“Now, I know your
agent friend already moved the other two bodies and is busy elsewhere, so we
should be fine. No one should disturb us. You know, Maggie. I really liked you.
I wish things had worked out differently for you. You were so much more fun
than Teresa ever was.
Sneaking on board in Major’s carrier.
Now, that’s inspired.”

“You saw that?” I
slur,
my tongue thick in my mouth. I note he said liked, as
if I’m already dead. I also think I see a pink elephant slinking around the
corner behind him. What exactly did he give me, anyway?

“Oh yes, dear. Why
do you think I brought that infernal monkey along anyway? I hate furry
creatures, but I needed some way to transport George after I double-crossed
him. The creature was honestly just an inconvenience after that. I will have to
do better next time.”

I heard on one of
Rebecca’s shows once that killers tend to be narcissistic and love to talk
about themselves. That may be my saving grace. I need to stall until this drug
wears off or the cavalry arrives.

“I don’t
understand? George?” I say slowly, taking pained concentration to form each
syllable. My mouth is tingling, like when feeling begins to return after a trip
to the dentist.

“Well, I might as
well tell you. By the sound of your voice, we’ve got time. Besides, I won’t be
able to tell anyone else.”

“So, you were
always going to sail?” My tongue feels a little less clumsy as it rolls around
in my mouth, but I fake the extra effort this time. Carl smiles patiently at my
impairment.

“Oh, yes. The fact
I did it for free was even better. I just had Teresa to deal with, which proved
more difficult than I thought. I figured if I made it too hard, she would just
quit before we boarded. Turns out, she is a more dedicated nurse than I gave
her credit for in the interview. Anyway, that’s over.

“So, I
commissioned George to provide the duplicate of
Blue
. That’s what is
currently displayed downstairs.”

He chuckles at some
funny memory.

“You know, I was
so mad at him when I saw the girl’s hair and dress colors were flipped. But,
that anger made it easier to take care of him when the time came, so it wasn’t
so bad, I guess. Still, it is hilarious that no one else has even noticed. Not
even the so-called experts like Willoughby.”

I have photos on
my phone of the original painting and the switched one, then. If he’s telling
the truth about the colors, I can prove it. I also pray it is still recording,
so I have his admission.

“Why do what you
did to George? He worked for you.”

“Oh,
no sense sharing, right?
Why take part of the pie, when you can have the
whole thing? Too bad you didn’t just keep your nose in that book, huh?”

I nod, encourage
him to go on. The pink elephant is back. It peeks around the corner, waves it’s
trunk at me. I blink, and it is gone. Apparently, whatever Carl gave me is
still working.

“I would have
thought you’d be feeling a bit better by now,” he says, looking at me
suspiciously.

“So, Mario was
just a message?” I deflect, in a stronger, but still raspy voice. It is
honestly the best I can manage. His critical look dissolves.

“Correct. I might
not have noticed you if you hadn’t gone blabbing around about what you saw. I
tried to give you a chance, tried to let you forget about it. But you just
wouldn’t!”

His face relaxes
and a creepy smile forms.

“No matter though.
A couple more hours and we’ll be docked, I’ll have the final piece of my
collection and you’ll… Well, you’ll be dealt with.
By the
sound of your voice, looks like I need to get on that.”

I see him fill a
small needle with something. Then he pulls off my right shoe.

“Now, hold still,
dear. You will feel a tiny prick between your toes, that’s all. Less pain than
a bee sting, isn’t that what the nurses always say? Sure, you’ll have a bit of
an undeserved reputation after your death, but on the up side, you simply float
away to that end. Nice and neat, don’t you think? At least I can give you that.
My thank-you for keeping things interesting.”

I try to fight,
but my muscles still aren’t working quite right. I think I see movement behind
Carl’s head, but can’t be sure.
The elephant.

Carl’s gleeful
smile suddenly goes blank and he drops the needle as he falls to the platform
floor, unconscious. The pink elephant stands behind the crumpled form, holding
an oar. He is much smaller than most beasts of his kind, I realize.

“Let’s go!” it
says. Funny, it sounds just like Mike.

“Mike, how did you
become an elephant?”

“What in the world
did he give you? I’m not an elephant, I’m me!”

“Sure you are, a cute
little pink one,” I giggle.

“No
way!
Trust me, I don’t even wear pink. Can you stand up?”

I try to wiggle my
toes, to sit upright. No matter what I tell my body to do, it never reacts like
I expect it to. I wind up just flailing around, until I finally give up.

“No.”

Mike sighs, and as
I watch him try to decide what to do, he slowly morphs back into his scrawny
little self. I guess the drugs are wearing off somewhat, but I still can’t move
right. At least I can feel my feet now.

“Stop moving and
listen, Maggie. I can’t pick you up, so I’m going to have to shove you off this
platform, ok? I’m not going to lie. It will hurt and you will probably break
some bones. And, be prepared for your face to be a bit messed up.
Maybe permanently.”

He straightens,
dusts himself off and looks back down at me.

“Now, I’m going to
lock Carl in the storage room before….”

Mike stops
mid-sentence, looks down at his chest. A small prick of blood is slowly
staining his shirt there. He turns, and I can see a giant knife sticking out of
his back. No, it is the handle from Carl’s cane, which looks like has been
filed to a sharp edge and fine point. There is bleeding around the grip. It’s
dripping off the handle and streaming down his spine.

He turns back to
face me, already ashen-faced and pale. I can tell he’s confused, searching for
help that I can’t provide. He braces himself on the smokestack. Then, his knees
buckle and he slides down it. A streak of red follows his progress down, until he
lands slumped at the bottom.

“Mike? Mike!” I
hear someone shriek. It’s me, I realize. Time seems frozen, and my body cold
and heavy as lead.

“Don’t bother,
Maggie,” I hear Carl’s voice say. “He’s dead. I can’t say I’m sorry, after him
knocking me out like he did. Too bad he didn’t know how to do it right. He was
as bad with that as he was pick pocketing. Too bad I had to resolve the problem
with such a mess. Cleanliness is next to Godliness, you know.”

He shoves Mike in
the storage room and uses Teresa’s sweater to mop at the blood outside.

“That will have to
do for now.”

He picks up the
needle, which is still intact, and reaches for my bare foot.

“Now, where were
we?”

Chapter 10

I pray someone,
anyone will come. I flop around uselessly, trying to avoid Carl, but he easily
outmaneuvers me. Even with his limp. Wait.
The limp.
It’s genuine, not faked. Why didn’t I notice that earlier? If I can kick his
knee just as he starts to put weight on that weak leg, I might be able to
topple him away from me. I keep flailing at him, but with purpose now.

Left, right, left,
right, LEFT. As he shifts his balance, I plan my kick to the rhythm.
Miraculously, my aim is accurate. He falls away, accidentally discharging the
needle into the air and dropping it. I am moving instantly, although clumsily.
I reach inside my bra and search for the pepper spray I tucked in with the
phone. It’s still there. Thank goodness he didn’t search me too closely after
he discarded the wire and drugged me.

As Carl lunges at
me again, I mash the button with all the strength that is in my finger, inches
from his face. Carl screams and recoils back. Tears stream down his cheeks, and
his inflamed eyes are red and bloodshot. Good. I feel no sympathy or remorse in
his pain. I switch fingers and spray him again.

Carl rolls off of
the platform, and I hear him yelp as he hits the deck below. Then, he cries
again, like a wounded animal, a few seconds later.

“That’s for
Maggie!” I hear Rose yell.

Another
scream from Carl.
This time, I notice the sound of crackling electricity
that preceded it.

“And, that is for
Mike!”

By that one, I’ve
managed to work my way to the edge, where I can look down. Rose is standing
over Carl, stun gun in hand.

“How did you get
that on board?” I say, thankful my voice is finally sounding normal.