Night Show (26 page)

In the living room, she scooped her robe off the floor. She shoved her arms into it as she raced for the workroom. Propped against the side wall beside the rake was a spade. She grabbed it.

Then she was outside, sprinting across the cool wet grass, the robe fluttering behind her like a cape. At her car, she jerked open the handbag. She felt inside for the key case, couldn’t find it, crouched and dumped the contents on the driveway. She snatched her keys and billfold from the heap. Clamping the billfold under her arm, she snapped open the key case. She found the car key. It kept missing the lock hole. She held her hand steady with her other hand, and the key slipped in.

She twisted it, tugged open the door and threw the shovel across the back seat. She flung herself behind the wheel and managed to fit the key into the ignition. The
engine
sputtered to life. She rammed the shift into reverse, remembered to shut the door but forgot to release the emergency brake. When she popped the clutch, the car lurched and died.

Dani whimpered.

She took the brake off. The car started rolling backwards. She turned the key and gunned the engine and sped down the driveway.

Tony, still sobbing from the ordeal, squirmed on the chair. The ropes burnt into his arms and feet as he struggled. Though his arms seemed bound securely, he felt some give around his feet. He strained against the ropes. He kicked. The bindings seemed to loosen. Pressing his right ankle against the aluminum tubing of the chair leg, he drew his foot up. His heel squeezed out! He drew his knee up, and his foot slipped free.

Using it to shove at the rope wrapped around his left foot, he had little trouble pulling loose.

He thrust himself forward. The chair tipped onto its front legs. He stood, hunched over the chair pressed to his back and rump, and took a waddling step.

If he could just get inside, get to the knife or machete . . . If he just had enough time, he knew he could cut himself free.

Sweat and charcoal lighter streamed down his body as he took another step toward the house.

Dani waited at the intersection with Laurel Canyon Boulevard. She moaned in frustration as the cars sped
by
. ‘Come
on
,’ she muttered, pounding the steering wheel with her palm.

Finally, there was a break in the traffic. She shot out, tires whining as she swung to the left. Her foot shoved the accelerator to the floor.

Thank God, the field where Tony left Jack wasn’t far away. Maybe a five minute drive.

Five minutes.

Each second must seem like forever, trapped in a coffin.

How long could the air last? Not very long. Jack might already be . . .

‘Hang on,’ she said. ‘Please.’

The traffic light on Mulholland turned red. The cars in front of Dani slowed down, stopped. She crept up close to the tail of the Rolls in front of her, pushed the brake pedal down, pressed her forehead to the steering wheel and wept.

Tony had only taken a few short steps toward the sliding door of Dani’s bedroom when a voice said, ‘Hello.’ His head jerked sideways.

A girl stepped away from the gate at the far side of the house. She wore a pale dress.

‘Help me,’ Tony called.

‘Sure.’ she said. ‘I’ll help you.’

Something about the voice sent a chill through Tony. He tried to straighten up. The chair hit the backs of his knees. They buckled and he fell. The chair caught him, scooted back, tipped, but not enough to throw him over.

Just this side of the barbeque, the girl paused. She squatted and stood up again. ‘I’ve been watching you,’ she said, slowly walking closer. ‘You had a very close call.’

‘The woman’s nuts. She was gonna kill me.’

‘I’m glad she didn’t.’

‘Untie me?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Please?’

She shook her head. In the wavering light from the pool, her face looked familiar. ‘Who are you?’

‘Don’t you remember? The old Freeman house?’

His heart thundered. He could barely breathe, but managed to gasp out, ‘Linda?’

‘You
do
remember.’

‘Wha . . . what are you doing here?’

She didn’t answer.

‘Where’d you come from?’

‘Your hearse.’

Twisting his head as far as he could, he saw her stoop down and pick up the tin of charcoal lighter.

‘Linda!’

She stepped in front of him. She shook the container. In her left hand was a box of matches

‘Oh Jesus, don’t.’

He kicked at her, but she simply stepped to the side of the chair, out of reach.

Fuel squirted onto his head.

‘No! I never hurt you! Please! God, Linda, don’t! I never hurt you! I never hurt
anyone
!’

The car bounced under Dani as she sped over the grassy field. She steered between two trees, turned sharply right to avoid another, and her headlights swept across the coffin.

It was resting on the ground, no more than twenty feet ahead.

Not buried at all!

She leapt from the car and ran. Undergrowth stabbed her bare feet, bushes lashed her legs. A root tripped her. She fell sprawling and scurried up and ran and dropped to her knees beside the coffin. Her hands thrust into the piles of dirt on top. She flung her arms back and forth, smashing through the loose soil. It rained against her. She spit to clear her mouth. Then the lid was clear.

She pounded on it. ‘Jack! Jack!’

No answer.

Along the rim of the lid were half a dozen metal wing-bolts. She grabbed one and began to unscrew it.

A match flared, casting grotesque shadows over Linda’s face.

‘No! Come
on
!’ Tony rammed his feet against the concrete, shoving his chair backwards a few inches.

Linda puffed out the match.

‘Please! I never meant any harm!’

She struck another match. She took a step toward him. Whimpering, Tony thrust his chair further back. Linda flicked the match. Its flame drew a bright,
curving
mark through the air, went dark, and landed near his feet.

He scooted back.

Another match burst to life.

‘
Please!
’

‘Scared?’ Linda asked, holding out the match.

‘I’ll do anything!’

‘You’ve already done too much.’ The flame burned close to her fingers. ‘Tell me you’re scared.’

‘I’m
scared
!’

She shook the match out, and lit another. ‘I was so scared I pissed myself.’

‘Okay!’ His muscles seemed too tight.

Linda struck another match.

‘I’m trying!’ Then a hot stream was shooting out, splashing his legs. ‘There! See?’

‘Isn’t it fun?’ Linda asked, and tossed the match. The brilliant tear of flame arced toward him.

Tony rammed his heels into the concrete. The chair jumped backwards. The match fell on his lap and he almost laughed in spite of the searing sting because it had gone out an instant before it touched him.

But he didn’t laugh.

He shrieked.

He seemed to fall forever, screaming and kicking at the sky. Then the water silenced him.

Dani tossed aside the final bolt and tugged at the coffin lid. She raised it a bit. Her fingers slipped and it thudded down. She grabbed it again and lifted. This
time
, it felt strangely light. It slid off, and she saw why it had moved so easily.

Jack had helped.

He sat up.

Dani threw her arms around his head, hugging it to her breasts and sobbing.

‘I can’t breathe,’ said his muffled voice.

Dani released him. Taking his arm, she helped him climb from the coffin. ‘Why didn’t you answer me?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘Thought I was dreaming. I was having a fine dream till you dropped the lid.’

‘Sorry.’

‘I’ll forgive you.’ Jack pulled her against him. His powerful body began to shake, and she heard him sobbing, too.

For a long time, they held each other.

‘I
GUESS
he never really intended to kill me,’ Jack said. ‘Otherwise, he wouldn’t have drilled the air hole in the top. He must’ve cleaned it off after he piled the dirt on.’

‘Thoughtful of him,’ Dani muttered. She slowed down, and turned onto Asher Lane. ‘What’ll we do with him?’

‘Let the cops take care of it. Assault and battery, attempted rape, that oughta be enough to put him away for . . .’

‘Oh my God!’

She stared ahead at the empty length of curb in front of her house.

The hearse was gone.

Jack squeezed her thigh. ‘Don’t worry. They’ll get him.’

‘I . . . it’s just that . . . I hoped it was over.’

‘It’s all right.’

She pulled onto the driveway beside Jack’s Mustang. Climbing out, her foot came down on lipstick and a compact. She squatted down and started to load her handbag. Jack knelt beside her and helped. Then he put an arm around her. They walked to the front door.

The house was silent, and dark except for the corridor lights.

Dani frowned. She pointed.

Tony’s blue slacks were draped over the back of a nearby chair, the pocket linings hanging out like pale tongues.

‘He must’ve been in quite a hurry,’ Jack said.

They stepped over to the bar. As Jack phoned the police, Dani picked up the two bar stools she’d knocked over. She started to make drinks.

Jack finished.

Dani placed a vodka and tonic in his hand.

‘I want to propose a toast,’ he said, staring at her with solemn eyes. ‘To Ingrid.’

‘To Ingrid. The nicest gift anyone ever gave me. And certainly the most useful.’

They clinked their glasses and sipped.

‘You never finished thanking me,’ Jack said.

‘I’ll have to thank Bruce, too. I feel so awful, giving him a hard time like that. I as much as called him incompetent for misplacing her that way.’

‘He was a good sport. Kept his cool. Didn’t give me away.’

Dani nodded. ‘Well, why don’t we go ahead and fish her out?’

They went outside. They walked to the edge of the pool, and Dani clutched Jack’s arm.

Neither spoke.

They stared down into the water.

Tony was there, hands still lashed to the patio chair,
staring
up at them from the bottom of the pool. Ingrid was there beside him, face down. One of her arms was stretched out, though Dani was sure they’d been at her sides when she threw the mannequin into the pool.

The hand of the reaching arm, probably urged by the currents of the filtering system, had found its way to Tony’s throat.

‘Let’s go back inside,’ Jack whispered.

They turned away, holding hands tightly, and walked toward the house.

‘H
I
M
OM
? . . . Yes, it’s me . . . Sure, I’m fine . . . I flew to Chicago . . . Yes, I’m coming home. I realised I was just being silly, running off like that. I mean, what are the chances the killer’d come after me? Yes, I love you, too. Give my love to Dad and Bob . . . I’ll see you tomorrow.’