Downward Dog, page 8
part #1 of Dog Yoga Mystery Series
“Before you hand over the case, ask for confirmation the dame is alive and well,” Madeline said. With her heart beating loudly in her ears, Hine could barely track the words.
“Like a photograph with today’s paper?”
Madeline shook her head and handed over an earpiece. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” Hine replied, her voice cracking just on that one word.
“They’ve promised to send proof of life via a video link to my phone when you show up with the case. Once I confirm to you I’ve got it, you hand over the money and get out of there.”
“Won’t they tell me where the dame is?”
“No. That’ll come through once they confirm the money is all there. Meanwhile, I’ll try to locate her via signs in the background of the video. With the pace these numbskulls are going, I’m sure I’ll sort it out before they get to a phone.”
“Is quicker better?”
Madeline inclined her head, a gesture Hine presumed meant yes.
“What if the kidnapper snatches the case from me before you get what you need?”
“Then we’ll be in trouble.” Madeline sighed and tapped on the mic. Static jumped into Hine’s ear. “Can you hear me through this okay?”
There were background crackles but not enough to cover Madeline’s words. “It’s fine.” She wrung her hands together, wishing she’d broken her ankle earlier and was lying in a hospital bed right now. “How much longer?”
“Given your limp, you should probably get going. Walk behind the building but stand on the lawn, don’t go into the woods at the back. That’ll be where our kidnapper is coming from, so you don’t want to be in there while he’s coming out. That’s how mistakes get made.”
“I thought you wanted them to make mistakes,” Hine grumbled, getting out of the car.
“Them. Not you.” Madeline got out of the front seat and stood next to her. “How’s the ankle?”
“Well, they won’t need to worry about me giving chase but it’s okay for the moment.”
“Cool.”
The negotiator suddenly leaned in and gave Hine a hug. The gesture caught her by surprise, and she stiffened like a board.
“I’ll keep you company on the headset throughout.”
“Can you hear me?”
“It’s one way only but I’m not far away. If you need help at any time, just yell.”
As Hine hobbled around the back of the retirement home building, her mind began to pick away at the plan. Just yell? What sort of advice was that for a professional? If he stabbed her, should she just scream?
The lights inside the home shone out onto the lawn. Inside, Hine could see some elderly folks playing a game near the window. Further inside, a woman sat opposite an English bulldog. She was much larger than Penelope and pure white, rather than multi-coloured.
It would be so nice to walk inside, into the warmth and comfort of that room, and sit down to have a conversation with the dog and her owner. Much better than standing outside in the increasing cold of night, waiting for a criminal to come and snatch a million dollars out of her hand.
“Are you in position?”
Hine closed her eyes and shook her head. Without a mic, how did the woman expect her to answer? Or was this one of those situations where she was meant to yell?
As though keeping pace with her thoughts, Madeline muttered something rude under her breath, then said, “Never mind. I know you can’t talk back. Yell out if something’s gone wrong.”
Yell? Right now, Hine could barely breathe. The muscles in her chest steadily tightened, turning her inhalations into gasps and her exhalations into pants.
Keep calm. It’ll all be over soon.
If she started running now, Hine could make it back home in less than half an hour. She could grab her car, get in, and put that million dollars to better use than any kidnapper would.
Run with a sprained ankle?
Hine tested her weight on the injured limb, clenching her teeth as the pain increased. Sure. It was bad but nothing that a six-figure windfall couldn’t get her over.
Is this also part of turning over a new leaf? Another plan to defraud an insurer, twice in the same day?
But starting over was hard. Harder than Hine had anticipated when she was locked up in a prison cell, with someone else responsible for feeding her, giving her work to do during the day, telling her when to exercise, and putting her back in her cage to sleep at night.
Are you so weak you need someone else to make your decision?
No. No, she wasn’t.
Hine straightened her backbone and squinted at the woods, trying to see shapes in the dark of night.
A crackle in her ear, then Madeline’s voice. “We’re right on time, now. You should expect to see the kidnapper soon.”
Almost the moment the words were spoken, a branch snapped nearby, and Hine whirled, desperately trying to make out a figure in the gloom.
A man stalked towards her, one hand deep in his jacket pocket, pointing what looked like a gun. The other dangled at his side, fingers flexing, ready to make the grab.
“Do you have the proof of life?” Hine called out, wincing as her voice squeaked like a mouse in the night.
A noise came from him, horrendous and twisted. He was using voice distortion equipment and she could barely make out the words.
“I’ve got it,” Madeline said in her ear. “Make the pass.”
Hine held out the case, not sure if she should toss it towards the man or not.
“Throw it over,” he called out, then a squeal of feedback sounded in her ear.
“Get out of there! It’s not the right link. Don’t give him the money.”
Hine backed away, her heart now beating so fast and loud her chest ached. A sense of doom rose like a noxious cloud. Her ankle struck the ground at a funny angle, twisting further.
Madeline again. “Don’t hand across the money. I’m coming.”
The man lunged for Hine and she screamed, swinging the case around to protect herself. It thumped against his shoulder and he roared in pain, his voice distorter knocking out of place.
He grabbed for her again and this time she fought him off with her hands, dragging her nails down his arm when he managed to tug at the handle.
Spreading her legs wide for balance, Hine swung the case again, this time aiming for the side of his head.
“Where’s the dame?” she yelled as he cried out from the blow. “Tell me what you’ve done with her!”
A floodlight suddenly lit the surrounding area, dousing them in blinding white. Hine’s eyes shrieked in pain and she closed them, staggering backwards until she collapsed against the wall of the home.
“Police,” a loudspeaker shouted at her. “We have you surrounded.”
As Hine held up her arms in surrender, she saw a flash of movement. The kidnapper disappearing into the woods. Getting away.
Chapter Thirteen
“I don’t know why you’re keeping me here.” Hine crossed her arms and glared across the table. She didn’t know why she’d thought PC Perry was hot. With the chance to examine him in the cold light of the police station, he appeared like someone her eyes would brush straight over.
“We’ve already explained,” Sergeant Winchester said after a dramatic sigh that would have a theatre major in raptures. “You’re here because we have questions about your background, and you took part in an illegal attempt to pay Dame Cholmondeley’s abductors a ransom.”
Hine puffed out a breath of air, shifting in her seat. “My ankle hurts. I want to see a doctor.”
“You weren’t so keen on that option when we caught you attempting to break-in to the dame’s house,” PC Perry said with a blank expression. “It’s a sprain. You’ll live.”
“If it still hurts in the morning, we’ll get a doctor to see you then,” the sergeant added.
“In the morning?” Hine’s mouth fell open. “What right do you have to keep me here until tomorrow? I’ve done nothing wrong.”
The sergeant ran a hand through his thinning hair as he once again listed her so-called crimes. Utter nonsense, the whole charade.
“The person you should be focusing this attention on is the man who ran into the woods when your helicopter turned up.” Hine jabbed her finger into the tabletop in case her shouting wasn’t enough to emphasise her opinion.
“We have people out searching for him.” Officer Perry grabbed the bridge of his nose, scrunching up his eyes. It made him look even more attractive. No! Hideous. Even more hideous.
“You’ve already had me in here for over an hour,” Hine pointed out. “If you were going to catch him, I think you’d have done it by now.”
“How did you know where to meet this man?” Sergeant Winchester asked. He and Perry had been tag-teaming questions while Hine had only one thing on her mind. Keeping quiet.
She shook her head, a pulse of light flashing across her vision. Oh, great. The migraine she’d predicted earlier in the evening had arrived. Give it a few hours, and she’d be clutching onto the sides of the toilet, wishing God would hurry up and take her home.
“You must have had some contact beforehand.”
PC Perry’s voice sounded like a drill in her ear. Rather than risk another head shake, Hine answered, “They called the house. At least, that was what I was told. I didn’t take the phone call.”
“If they’d called the house, our equipment would have intercepted it.”
“Madeline removed all the stuff your technician installed. She said most kidnappers don’t want to have police involvement, and it increased the chances to get the dame back alive if you were kept out of it.”
“Oh, yes. Madeline McStar.”
The heavy sarcasm in Sergeant Winchester’s voice came through loud and clear.
“It’s not my fault you scared her off. All she’s doing is trying to save Tilly from any further harm.”
As they stared at her in open suspicions, Hine crossed her arms and scowled. “It’s not like I made her up. Call the insurance company and I’m sure they’ll confirm her existence. I didn’t conjure up a million dollars out of thin air.”
“No, but the assumption we’re working on at this moment is that you’re the recipient of the money and your partner in crime is currently evading police.”
“What?” Hine leaned forward, slamming her palm on the table. “That makes no sense whatsoever. Why would I be behind the dame’s kidnapping?”
Constable Perry snorted. “Because of the cash. That’s usually the primary reason in cases like this.”
“We know your business is going down the tubes,” Sergeant Winchester said. He appeared far too pleased with himself for Hine’s liking. “And we also know you’re a former inmate of the Sydney Correctional Institution.” He opened a folder, stuffed full of papers. “It says here, you’ve been involved in illegal activities since you were in primary school.”
“Did it mention my parents were the main drivers behind that?” Hine felt a bubble of sadness rise up to fuel her anger. “Or were you so keen on disparaging my reputation you didn’t bother to get the full story?”
“Tell us the full story, then.” PC Perry leaned back in his chair, hands raised to either side. “We’ve got all night. The unit from Christchurch is more than happy to track down your accomplices.”
Hine pulled at the sleeve of her sweatshirt. She’d chosen one with a cute kitten on the front in the hope it would make a kidnapper think twice before killing her. Now, it made her feel about eight years old.
The same age she’d been when her parents took her on their first crime spree.
“Did my records show I was hit by lightning?” Hine asked. She kept her eyes fixed on the table but caught their head shakes with her peripheral vision. “It happened when I was eight. My parents had taken me for a picnic in the park.”
She pulled down the collar of her sweatshirt, showing the beginnings of the strange scar pattern that radiated out along her collarbone and down one side of her torso. The doctors who had treated her referred to them as keraunographic markings, but Hine preferred the term ferning because they looked just like a silver fern.
Even the lightning had picked her out as a kiwi.
“It came with some side effects that my parents took advantage of,” Hine continued, pulling her shirt back into place.
Boy, had it. Being able to communicate with dogs had been a revelation and a joy to her. To her parents, it had been an opportunity.
There wasn’t a guard dog in Sydney safe from the persuasive cajoling of an eight-year-old speaking their language. While she engaged in philosophical debates at the front gate, they’d be sneaking in the back to steal.
On another occasion, her parents had picked up an animal rescue from the pound. While Hine had been overjoyed at the mixed breed mutt with large brown eyes, her parents set her to work training him to break into units through the doggy doors.
It worked a treat until poor Bounce jumped through the door straight into the path of a pair of territorial Dobermans. Despite her screams to leave her dog alone, the guards weren’t about to let him away without a lesson.
Bounce made it out alive, but he’d never poke his head inside another dog door. Hine wished she’d learned her lesson so easily.
“My parents made me do it might be an explanation when you’re a child, but when you’re in your early twenties, it’s a harder sell.” Officer Perry stared at her with pity. An expression that made Hine want to scream.
“If someone doesn’t teach you right from wrong, it’s very hard to know that’s what you’re doing.”
“Yeah, because you weren’t allowed access to television, or movies, or books.” The constable shook his head slowly. “As I said, it’s harder for folks to swallow.”
“I’ve never committed a criminal act in this country,” Hine said. She ignored the prompts from her brain that it didn’t mean she hadn’t tried. “Prison isn’t a happy camp, you know. I don’t have any desire to visit there again.”
“Is it better, being away from your parents?” Sergeant Winchester asked. His expression seemed genuinely interested.
“When I heard I was being deported, I was terrified.” Hine’s mind jumped back to her disbelief at the news. She’d been shocked Australia was turfing her out for crimes no more serious than those committed by the founders of the original colonies. Further surprised to find out her parents had gained their citizenship, protecting them from deportation. Enraged when she found out that protection didn’t extend to her since she’d been over eighteen at the time of their ceremony.
All the emotions turned to sorrow when they declared it would be too hard for them to follow her back to New Zealand and start again at their age.
“But after the help from the authorities here, I got set on the right track for the first time. Before they got me my first job working in a factory, I hadn’t thought it was a possibility for me to work and earn a decent wage.”
“It’s good to see you got back on your feet,” the sergeant said, scratching the back of his neck as his mouth screwed up. “And we’d like to keep you on that path but not if you keep lying to us about the kidnapping. No insurer would ever trust a complete stranger to conduct a ransom exchange. Your story just doesn’t add up. It’s not even as though you’re a friend of Dame Cholmondeley. If you don’t start telling us the truth, we can’t help you.”
Tears threatened as Hine closed her eyes. If this was what telling the truth was like, then she wanted to resort to lying all the time.
“I can’t tell you another story because I’ve already said what happened.” She bit her lower lip, hard enough to taste the metallic saltiness of blood. “Dame Cholmondeley had kidnap and ransom insurance. A demand was made. She asked me to help with the exchange because the dame’s cousin didn’t want to get involved and the abductors must have asked for no police and no negotiator.”
The sergeant drummed his fingers on the table. “That’d be something we could verify if you hadn’t taken the equipment off the phone.”
“For the last time, I didn’t take the stuff off—I wouldn’t know how. It was Madeline McStar with the permission of Wilber Manchurian. If you want to know more, I suggest you find and talk to them.”
Hine folded her arms on the table and laid her head down on top of them. She closed her eyes. If the police weren’t going to cooperate by believing her, then she wouldn’t waste her breath on them any longer.
“Let’s start again from the beginning,” Sergeant Winchester said. “What were you doing at Dame Cholmondeley’s house this afternoon?”
If she concentrated on making her breaths nice and slow, Hine would be able to fool herself into falling asleep. She’d done that many times before when it seemed insomnia wanted to become a permanent feature of her life.
A knock on the door startled her. Another officer poked his head into the room.
“We’re in the middle of an interview, PC Mitchell. Please don’t interrupt.”
“Sorry, sir, but I thought you’d want to know. We’re just getting in reports of another kidnapping.”
Chapter Fourteen
In the space of an hour, Hine went from chief suspect to a person of no account. As Sergeant Winchester signed her out of the station with just a warning not to interfere, she counted herself lucky.
Unlucky for poor Larissa Hobson—the second woman abducted—but Hine couldn’t help that.
She was just walking along her driveway, the short walk from the station having taken her three times longer due to her bung ankle, when Madeline’s car pulled up behind her. Hine pulled back her shoulders as she turned to face the woman, fury written large upon her face.
“Where did you get to?”
“I went back to the office.” Madeline shrugged and flapped a hand. “It was obvious there was nothing more that could happen tonight, so I thought it best to get back there in case the kidnappers called through further instructions.”
“You left me with the police. They questioned me for hours.”
