Chapter 16
April and Lotte to the Rescue
by Al Tommervik

Still in the clutches of his adrenalin-fueled rage, Pike threw the statue into the mirror on the dresser. He rampaged through the flat, breaking vases, ripping paintings off the wall.  As his rage abated slightly, he thought, Jesus, it’s just like Christchurch. Visions of Rachel lying dead in her camper swirled in his head.

In Christchurch he’d known the territory and just where to hide a body. Rachel’s remains were not found for three weeks ... long enough for Pike to adopt a new identity and leave the country. Nobody connected Rachel’s boyfriend, drug dealer Timmy Pendleton, with Thomas Pike. They could look forever, but Pendleton had ceased to exist. Pike needed to erase the evidence of what happened here--and quickly .

He’d lived in Manhattan for two years, but his knowledge of the area did not include where to stash a corpse. At least there seemed to be temporary safe houses. Margaret had said he could stay in the flat for a week and Kate had mentioned that Margaret lived alone on the Island.

Searching her bag, Pike found Margaret’s cell phone and a monthly parking stub. There were several messages on her phone -- all from men setting up appointments. So that was Margaret’s game. Pike smirked. Probably no one would come forward looking for her if they had to explain their interest.

Margaret could wait while he dealt with Kate. Her car gave Pike the opportunity to catch Kate unawares at the roller derby.

Pike parked. Some people were milling around, but the derby was still in full swing. It was a cold February night as Pike melted into a shadow, wishing he had worn something warmer than his black hoodie.

When people came streaming out, Kate was not among them. That bitch! It figures with my luck she wouldn’t show. He was about to leave when a small group of young women, including Kate, exited the building.

“Hey, Kate. The team’s walking over to The Half King for a pint of Guinness. Care to join us?”

“Thanks, April, but I want to get home and get my new ideas down on paper while they’re still fresh. I’ll take a rain check on that pint.”

Kate peeled off from the group and headed for the subway.

Pike casually stepped from the shadows and wandered in the direction of the subway.

Kate hesitated, as if she might hail a cab, then shrugged and walked on.

Pike eased up behind her, grabbed her arm and wrist in a come-along hold. Disguising his voice, he whispered, “Follow directions and you won’t get hurt.”

Kate’s self-defense instructions kicked in and she stomped on her assailant’s shin. He loosened his hold and she attempted to break free, but he was too strong. “That’ll cost you,” he grunted.

He jammed Kate’s wrist into a lock and Kate screamed in pain. Most people in the area began moving away from the struggling couple.

Hearing the scream, April looked back. She couldn’t locate the source, but she had a bad feeling. Kate had told her about Pike, so she decided to double back to see what was up.

Pike clamped one hand over Kate’s mouth and forced her body close to his so he could maintain the come-along hold. He started shambling toward the shadows, sometimes briefly lifting her to overcome her resistance. Progress was slow, marked by deep visceral growls from the raging Pike, but he noted that nobody was coming to Kate’s aid.

April was now close enough to see a couple struggling near the subway entrance and feared the worst. “Trixie! Ashley! We need help here!” she yelled. The Mayhem team turned as one and raced toward her.

The couple disappeared into the shadows, followed by a wail. April was at top speed as she entered the shadows and saw a man choking a woman. She recognized Kate and launched herself at the man.

Pike had no sense of April until she crashed into him, knocking him to the ground. Snarling, he jumped up ready to fight. April was more agile and was already on her feet. “Leave her alone, you asshole!”

Pike threw a wicked one-two combination, but April avoided both punches and kicked his knee. He saw April’s teammates approaching and ran off, limping.

April kneeled beside Kate and saw that she was having trouble breathing. “Somebody call 911!”

---

Henrik Van Alstyne looked across his desk at his daughter Lotte. Lotte was a throwback to Opa. She could smell opportunity and seize it before others even sensed that it might be there. He wished she hadn’t talked him into selling the Eastside building.

Lotte was briefing him. “The colleges that have been leasing the first four floors at our Lexington building are transitioning into on-line classes. They’re vacating the first three floors and keeping the fourth floor to house their internet equipment.

“We can remodel that space and move Eastside there. With a clean slate, we could build the best, most modern facility in the city. And perpetuate Opa’s heritage.”

Henrik perked up. “I like it, but we can’t accomplish that before the sale shuts down the club. Once they’ve lost their members, it’ll be impossible to reestablish the clientele.”

“The sale’s coming undone,” Lotte said. “The Destiny Living-Alexian partnership is collapsing. Some guy named Jerry regaled Destiny’s executive board members with tales of Alexian’s shoddy building practices. The partnership is dissolving and we’ll be looking for a new buyer. In which case, we can insist on terms that allow Eastside to continue in situ while we remodel Lex.”

“Perfect,” Henrik said. “Go tell Hank at Eastside the good news.”

---

It was Monday and this week couldn’t be worse than last week. The word was out about the sale and defections were gathering momentum. He had two new holes in his teaching calendar and he was going to have to reorganize or cancel the noon league if they lost any more players.

His training for the Masters was going poorly. His footwork remained subpar and his aerobic exercises were leaving him short of breath too soon.

It got worse early Sunday morning when Kate called from the emergency room. She’d been mugged! She suffered bruises around her throat and a broken wrist. April couldn’t identify the assailant. Kate hadn’t seen him, but had no doubt it was Pike.

More bad news, Lotte Van Alstyne was in his office. He began to release his frustrations as soon as he hit the door to his office.

“I understand about the money, but it’s a damn shame that squash is so undervalued.

“Every tenth person you see on the sidewalk is busy backstabbing one or more of his or her coworkers. At least one in five of the diners at the city’s best restaurants are trying to undercut somebody’s deal or are having their deals threatened. That’s New York. It’s the most competitive place in the world.

“None of that matters on the squash court. There’s no spin doctor. There’s no alternate narrative. There’s no covert agenda. It’s you and your opponent -- sharing the same space and playing by a set of rules that keeps the competition civil. Squash is an outlet for some of the competitive juices that fuel this city.

“Squash doesn’t need New York, but New York needs squash.”

His rant finished, Hank dropped into his chair.

Lotte smiled. “I think you’ll like what I have to say.”




Al Tommervik is a journalist, tech writer, and pseudo-techie.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.