Sharp Turn - Marianne Delacourt [73]
As soon as my hands were free, I leaned down and punched Josh in the face, just for good measure. Then I got up from the chair and fell over.
While I massaged blood back into my limbs, Wal took the chair off Josh and tied his feet and hands together. Then transferred my gag to his mouth. When he was done, he surveyed the room with a low whistle.
‘Looks like he wuz plannin’ a party. What do you want to do?’
‘What’s the time?’ I croaked.
‘Around 5 am. It’ll be light soon.’
‘Let’s get out of here in case someone else comes.
I’ll make an anonymous call to the cops.’
‘You sure? If for some reason they don’t get him, he’ll likely come for you again.’
Wal was right, but I had to get out of here and away from Josh before I started screaming.
‘Bligh will get him.’ Would she?
Wal slid his kitbag from his shoulders and pulled out a pair of gloves similar to those Josh wore. Then he drew a cloth out of a ziplock bag and began wiping down the chair.
‘What else did you touch?’
I thought about it. ‘Just the inside of the boot. It’s downstairs in the lock-up garage. Nothing else. He had a gun on me the whole time.’
‘Go get in the car. It’s a white Calais, a block down on the right. It’s open. I’ll go over the boot.’
I nodded. ‘In a minute. You got another set of gloves?’
He handed his bag to me. ‘Help yourself.’
‘I’m going to use his mobile to make the call from here.’
He nodded his approval. ‘Smart. Give us ten minutes to wipe the boot and don’t forget my bag.’
‘Where are we?’
‘Townhouse estate in Scarborough called Indian Sands. Number thirty-seven.’
It took all my remaining courage not to run downstairs after Wal. Even though Josh was hog-tied and still unconscious, I felt sick just being near him.
I pulled a pair of gloves from Wal’s bag, then went to the larger bedroom next door and found the ensuite. My bladder took a while to accept I was going to let it empty. When it did, the relief was indescribable.
Feeling less like my abdomen might explode, I went back to the other room and put Josh’s tool kit back in the fold-over case in the cupboard, so he couldn’t possibly reach it. Then I searched through the case’s pockets. The main zippered compartment contained rolled-up tee-shirts, underwear, socks and a small wetpack with toothpaste and toothbrush. I guess when you’re a paid killer you don’t leave stuff lying around in bathrooms.
I moved on to the outer pockets, where I found an airline e-ticket printout for a flight to Sydney under the name Josh Hamilton.
Now for him.
I went back to Josh and, with trembling hands, patted down his body until I located his mobile. He had nothing else in his pockets except for some cash.
I ran quickly through the directory of what looked like a cheap throwaway phone. No contacts listed.
His notes section had only a single entry with three names in it:
Sam Barbaro
Lena Vine
Tara Sharp
My shaking got worse as I moved on to calls received. Two numbers only. One unnamed, the other listed under Dwayne. That was the dealer’s name Viaspa had mentioned at the club. I rang the first number.
‘I told you not to call me.’ Johnny Viaspa’s voice was as recognisable as his pus-yellow aura.
I hung up and dialled the Dwayne number.
‘Roc here.’
Lena Vine’s security guard. It hit me then that the name Dwayne was a play on his surname Roc. After the actor Dwayne Johnson – the Rock. If I’d had anything in my stomach I would have vomited it up.
I rang triple 0 and asked for the Euccy Grove cop shop. Putting on my deepest, most mannish voice, I left an urgent message for Constable Bligh, consisting of the address of the townhouse, the sedan’s licence plate number and the word ‘Hurry’.
Josh began to groan.
I took one last look around to make sure I’d left nothing behind, and placed his phone on the cupboard shelf next to his fold-over bag.
On my way to the door, I stepped close to him and did something any self-respecting,