Read Torque Online

Authors: Glenn Muller

Tags: #thriller, #crime, #suspense, #murder, #action, #detective, #torque, #glenn muller

Torque (23 page)

The mortuary sat at the apex of a wide
semi-circular driveway, the ends of which connected with the road a
hundred metres apart. The pavement continued around the back to
facilitate deliveries. The grounds were landscaped and a small
model cemetery for displaying headstones was off to one side.

Fenn donned the hard hat then said, “We
forgot to bring Kim’s boots.”

“Don’t worry about it. She can have them when
we get her back to the barn.” Tony put the spyglass to his eye.

Fenn exited the car and crossed the road. He
headed for the nearest entrance at a normal walk. His voltmeter
prop was now connected to a strobe gun. Normally used to set the
timing on engines, the gun-shaped instrument gave him something to
point while pretending to take readings with the meter. He aimed at
the overhead wires coming from the road and walked slowly up the
drive.

A half-dozen vehicles were parked at the far
side of the building. On the near side by the back corner a
limousine identical to the one he’d seen yesterday was being
washed. The fellow with the sponge glanced his way and Fenn moved a
little quicker until the corner of the building came between them.
From here, however, he could see a guy with two dogs ahead of him.
These weren’t the pet-my-head-and-I’ll-lick-your-hand Golden
Retriever type, they were the I’ll-bite-your-ass-and-eat-your-liver
German Shepherd variety. And the guy holding their chains was
Jenner.

They were making a circuit of the building in
the same direction as Fenn was moving. Fully aware that his
coveralls smelled like an abattoir he followed along. Jenner’s
presence boosted his confidence that Kim was somewhere near. He’d
now seen three sides of the building and knew it was twice as long
as it was wide. The quarrystone walls were two stories tall and
each floor had eight windows across the front. The main entrance,
however, was on the right hand side and Fenn was now in full view
of it. He raised the strobe gun toward the roofline, looked at his
meter, and kept walking. He got to the back corner and peeked
around it.

Towed by the dogs, Jenner had made it to the
far end and was approaching the guy washing the limo. Now in rinse
mode the guy turned the hose on the Shepherds inciting them to snap
fiercely and strain at their chains. Jenner called the guy an
asshole and struggled to pull them back. The guy laughed and
returned the spray to the car. Fenn used the distraction to slip
through a back door.

He was in a short hallway. A steel swing-type
door immediately to his right had a window in it. This was the
mortuary proper. A man and woman in aprons were attending to a
corpse. Alongside, on wheeled lift-tables, were two more bodies
each covered with a sheet. The storage coolers were on the far wall
and Fenn fervently hoped he wouldn’t have to open any of those to
find Kim.

The hallway led to a main corridor that
bisected the building lengthwise. At the end of that, to his right,
was a small chapel. Along the front side of the building were two
large reception rooms. The offices for administration and sales
were along the back. The main entrance was to the left as were the
stairs to the second floor.

Fenn resumed his charade. He began counting
strides out loud as if pacing off distance. The general atmosphere
was one of daily business. The men all wore suits and a smartly
dressed receptionist was installed in an alcove by the stairs. She
gave Fenn an inquiring look as he approached. He acknowledged with
a nod, looked at his meter then said, “Are you still getting static
on the line?”

“I didn’t know I was.”

“Well somebody is. Do me a favour; dial 6-1-1
and if you get a response just say ‘Thank you’ and hang up.” He
pointed the strobe gun at the phone. The receptionist looked
dubious but did as requested. Fenn turned a knob on the voltmeter
and shook his head.

“Okay. That’s fine. I’ll keep looking.”

He continued past the alcove and examined a
plug receptacle until the receptionist was once again engrossed in
her work. The wide staircase had brass handrails and fourteen
marble steps. A man in janitorial garb, Fenn guessed he was
Philippino, was sweeping down from the top. When Fenn reached his
level the man stopped him and said in a hushed funeral home tone,
“Do I know you?”

Taken aback, Fenn replied, “I don’t think
so.”

The sweeper motioned with the end of his
broom. “Does he know you?”

Still a few stairs from the top, both Fenn
and the custodian were not in prominent view of the well-dressed
man at the far end of the hall. He was perusing a magazine but his
straight-backed chair outside the last door did not appear to be a
casual placement.

The Asian continued his sweep to the bottom
landing. Fenn, gaining the top step, didn’t acknowledge the sentry
when he was noticed. This floor had several rooms and Fenn began
boldly opening doors and doing a pseudo-scan. The first led into a
large showroom where the coffins were displayed. The second room
had armchairs and a coffee table with several boxes of tissue on
it. He backed out to find the man standing beside him.

Feet spaced for stability and hands folded at
the crotch as one does to show respect, or to protect the groin,
the man blocked his path and spoke in an even but firm tone.

“This area is restricted, sir.”

Fenn held up the meter. “Apparently not to
wiring problems.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but you will have to work
elsewhere.” He moved a hand in the direction of the stairs. Fenn
acquiesced and began to descend. The sentry watched until Fenn
reached the bottom then went back to his post. If Kim wasn’t in
that room at the end of the hall, Fenn would eat his hat.

The custodian had pushed his broom all the
way to the chapel. Save for the receptionist, currently taking a
call, no one else was visible on the main floor. Fenn stepped into
the nearby reception room. On a table, beside boxes of tissue and
bowls of mints, were tall white candles and long matches with which
to light them.

He scanned the ceiling. No fire sprinklers
but near the centre of the room was a heat detector. Fenn pulled a
chair beneath it. He stood on the seat and lit a match. The flame
flickered and licked at the detector’s thermocouple. It took mere
seconds to melt the wax within.

The alarm, as Fenn would later recall, didn’t
wake the dead but it sure as hell roused the living.

 

 

 

CHAPTER
32

 

The pulsating high-pitched tone was hard on
the ears. Fenn blew out the match, jumped from the chair, and
grabbed the fire extinguisher from the bracket by the door. He went
into the hallway and saw the receptionist on the phone, clearly
calling 9-1-1.

Two suits emerged from an office. They turned
his way but Fenn pointed toward the morgue and they took the hint.
He went the other way and took the stairs two at a time. At the top
he displayed the extinguisher and strode businesslike toward the
sentry. The man was standing in the middle of the hall, uncertain
as to what he should do.

“Chemical fire in the morgue.” Fenn told him.
“Time to abandon ship.”

The sentry looked to the door he was guarding
and then at Fenn. He put his hand on the knob and gave Fenn a
dismissive head toss.

“You can go down. I’ll be right there.”

Fenn nodded and returned to the stairwell.
Satisfied, the sentry opened the door and entered the room but he
stopped just past the door jamb. The room was set up as guest
quarters with an on-suite bathroom. It had a large walnut bureau, a
queen-sized bed stripped of its covers, and a blonde climbing over
the windowsill with a rope made of sheets.

“Hey!” He took a step toward her then pitched
forward onto the rug, out cold. Fenn watched him collapse then
lowered the fire extinguisher.

“Chas?”

“Kim!”

“Oh shit!” Kim lost her balance and
disappeared from the sill. Fenn scrambled across the bed and stuck
his head through the open portal. White-knuckled, and swaying
slightly on her makeshift line, Kim stared back with a novice
climber’s look of fear.

“You’re doing fine. Keep going,” he said.
“I’ll be right behind you.”

Habit made him check her tie-off. The top
sheet was fastened securely to the foot of the bureau. A pair of
scissors lay on the floor. He followed the line to the window and
looked down again. Kim was standing by the wall, the end of the
fabric dangling just above her head.

He took a couple of deep breaths to steel
himself for the climb down. His damaged rib and torn left shoulder
would not support much weight. He’d made one-armed descents before
but they were tricky and he didn’t have time for the niceties of
pain management. Thirty seconds later he let go of the sheet and
dropped next to Kim beneath the stained glass window of the
chapel.

The alarm continued to wail, just as loud
outside as in the building. Over top of it came the insistent sound
of a car horn. Tony had heard the commotion and from his vantage
point had watched Kim and Fenn exit through the window.

The GTO raced up the driveway, its back end
sliding out as Tony accelerated toward them. The limo had been
moved to the front of the building and blocked the side where Kim
and Fenn now stood. Tony skidded to a stop and jumped out, leaving
the door open and engine running.

It had been almost three minutes since Fenn
had triggered the alarm and his ruse had been discovered. A shout
came from the window above them. The shouter, thinking he might
also rappel down, put a leg over the sill. Fenn yanked hard on the
sheet. It rapped the man’s knuckles against the wood and changed
his mind.

The car wash guy had joined Jenner and the
dogs on their walk to the perimeter of the property. Fenn saw them
running back toward the building with the Shepherds in the lead. He
began to strip off his coveralls.

“Time to split up, Kim. You run for the car.
I’ll try and distract them.”

She didn’t need telling twice. With only
socks on her feet she bolted for the GTO. Jenner and his buddy
altered course to intercept her and released the dogs. They bounded
ahead. Fenn, waving hardhat and coveralls, whooped like a rodeo
clown to get their attention. The dogs veered toward him and he
took off toward the broken rocks at the base of Mount Nemo.

The limo was in Kim’s way and she slowed to
dodge around it. The detour gave the car washer time to meet her on
the other side and he grabbed the sleeve of her raincoat. He
disappeared with a grunt as Tony’s shoulder ploughed into his
midsection. The two men landed hard on the asphalt. Tony recovered
first and delivered two snap punches to his opponent’s face.

“Drive the car, Kim. Go!”

Jenner had a choice of chasing the girl or
ganging up on her champion. His momentary hesitation gave Kim time
to reach the GTO and close the door. She saw him snatch at the
handle then stagger backwards as Tony grabbed his collar and spun
him away. Not waiting to see the outcome, Kim slammed the gear
selector into Drive and stomped on the gas.

== == ==

Fenn was seconds from reaching the rock wall
when the dogs caught up. He let them get within five metres then
dropped to his knees and held the coveralls up like a screen.
Competing for the prey, the vicious dogs lunged side by side at the
presented target. Bowled over by a hundred kilograms of snapping
fury, Fenn was battered by wolf-like legs and scratching nails.
Their frothing mouths and hot putrid breath passed over his face as
they snatched at the bait and took it with them.

Incensed by the smell of rendered meat, the
dogs fought over the blue fabric and ripped it to shreds with
violent headshakes. Fenn got to his feet and dashed toward the base
of the cliff. His flight, noticed first by one and then by both,
restarted the chase.

With no time to test the integrity of ledges
he scrambled up the wall, sending shale and limestone raining down
on the riled up beasts. He gasped in agony as a foothold gave way
and threw weight onto the torn ligaments and muscles of his left
shoulder. The fingers held. He found a new footrest. Below, the
dogs danced on their hind legs and barked in frustration. His heels
were beyond their reach and Fenn forced himself to slow down and
select his supports with more care.

Keep your weight over your feet, he told
himself, and three points of contact on the rock. He heard a car
door slam and a squeal of tires. His hand found a tree root and he
looked up.

Almost there.

== == ==

The car seemed huge but the gearshift, gas
pedal, and steering wheel were all pretty standard. The GTO’s
spinning tires turned rubber into smoke as the car lunged forward.
Kim wasn’t used to this much power. Ahead, suits ran from the main
entrance and fanned out before her. Another movement caught her
eye. In the mirror she saw Tony running after the car. She hit the
brakes and he caught up and jumped in on the passenger side.

It was then that she noticed her seat was the
only one the car had. Tony flopped onto the foam slab in the rear
and lay panting. Kim tromped the gas and spun the tires again. The
suits scattered and the sudden launch rolled Tony off the foam. He
grabbed the back of her seat and pulled himself up as she steered
toward the exit.

“Go left when you hit the road,” he said.

She did, then overcorrected and swayed back
and forth a couple of times. The oncoming lane was empty so she
stayed on the centerline until she got a feel for the full-sized
muscle car. Flashing lights appeared briefly in the mirror. They
turned in at the funeral home at the same time the black limousine
lurched into view behind them. Tony reached around her and fastened
the lap belt.

“They’re coming after us,” she said, and
thinking only of escape, mashed the gas pedal to the floor. The car
surged and Tony tumbled to the rear once more.

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