John Steel Collection - Books 1-3

Chapter 9

A large, bright moon illuminated New York City as if it was the midday sun, and a blanket of stars hung in the cloudless sky of a warm August night.

Traffic flowed smoothly, and the bright radiance from stores and streetlights contrasted the dark. City folk hurried on their way, and tourists wandered around almost aimlessly or stopped to take pictures to capture memories.

From her open office window, Karen Lane could hear the sounds of sirens wailing and the blaring horns of angry taxi drivers. But she had no time to take a moment to look out at the fantastic view below her. The air in her office was thick with humidity, and so the open window allowed a fresh breeze to sneak in through the small gap she had left.

The air conditioner in her office was on the fritz, so she was forced to open the window. Regardless of being ten storeys up, the noise was distracting. The sounds of a Thursday night in the Big Apple were almost a siren’s song to her. But she had work to do, a mass of paperwork to write up for tomorrow"s meeting.

She’d already typed page after page, stopping only to take a sip from the water glass next to her computer.

Karen’s hands cupped her long blonde hair and combed it through her fingers to fall on her back. She found that this had a calming effect. It was almost better than drinking alcohol but didn’t always do the trick.

She was tall, with an hourglass figure.

Even though she was approaching her forties, she looked ten years younger with a slender, hourglass figure.

Karen was a partner in Bradford, Lane, and Stewart, a law firm with one hell of a case going to trial in two weeks. Her father had been the original Lane, but now the only name on the letterhead was hers. Staring at the computer monitor, she blew out a lungful of air, as she knew there was still much to do in the limited time available. The office was extensive, with a glass-topped, clutter-free desk. However, the twenty-millimetres-thick glass held only her bare essentials: the computer monitor, keyboard, telephone, and the file.

Bradford, Lane, and StewartAgainst the left wall stood an oak cabinet, which stored various reference books and photographs of her visited places.

Karen had framed and hung diplomas from Columbia law school, Harvard, and numerous other educational establishments on the right-hand wall. Below these stretched a long black leather sofa. Its soft fabric and comfortable padding made valued clients comfortable. Sometimes she even slept on it after an exceptionally late night at the office. Not tonight, though; she was definitely going home.

It took her a half-hour to put the document she was working on together. Afterwards, Karen packed it away into the presentation folders, ready for the next day"s meeting.

She checked the time on her gold-faced Rolex. It was half-past two in the morning.

Karen found it hard to believe that she had been working this late again, letting out a silent curse.

She looked momentarily at the sofa, fighting the urge to crash in her office for the night.

Karen powered down the computer and switched off the lights, then stepped out into the large work area, which contained a nest of booths and desks on the firm’s floor.

Karen knew that everybody else was long gone, and she hoped they were tucked up in their beds hours ago to be ready for work tomorrow.

The only person Karen saw was the janitor buffing the floor next to the elevator.

‘Hi, Karl,’ she greeted him with a smile of relief to see another person she recognised. Karen’s arms were full with her coat, handbag, files and, balanced under her chin, her thermos coffee cup.

‘Hi, Miss Karen, working late again?’ said the janitor almost disapprovingly. ‘Young lady like you should be out having fun, not cooped up here on a Thursday night, no sir,’ he added, shaking his head. Karen was grateful for his being concerned about her and being considerate enough to press the call button on the elevator. The doors opened, and Karen stepped inside.

‘Good night, Karl,’ she flashed him a smile. ‘Good night, Miss,’ he replied, returning the smile.

The doors closed, and she nudged the button for the garage with her elbow, hoping she had hit the right one. Instead, the basement button illuminated, and Karen sighed with relief. Then she felt the slight shudder, and the elevator started downwards towards the underground garage. She observed the panel displaying the numbers, watching the count-down.

Finally, the elevator reached its destination, and with a ding, the doors opened to reveal the dark grey parking lot.

As Karen stepped out, noticing the climate change. Upstairs, the air had been hot and sticky from the building’s failed air-con, but it was still warm but dry.

Karen headed for a group of parked vehicles at the end of the lot. She began to hum a tune she had heard earlier that day, repeating in her head. Karen walked past the massive round pillars that supported the roof. She noticed shadows dancing in front of her, contrasting with brightness from the hidden wall lights. Her car was in sight, but the uneven light played tricks on her, conjuring up all kinds of imaginary apparitions at the edge of her field of vision.

Her ears pricked to the sound of the elevator, and, as she turned, Karen noticed the silhouette of a tall, bulky figure stepping out of the elevator.

She started to walk quicker, and her humming began to match her steps to calm herself. Then there were pounding footsteps from behind her. Too fearful to look around, she made for her car as fast as she could.

Who was following her? What did they want? Her pace quickened, so it was almost a jog until she was a few feet from her car. Behind her, the pursuer had also broken into a run to keep up with her.

Nearly there now, she thought, her eyes set on the vehicle before her. Her baggage of coat and coffee mug were flung aside as she ran. Her heart pounded in her chest as she searched through her bag for her keys.

‘Where the f**k are my keys?’ she almost screamed as she reached her car. Fear drove her into panic as her fingers scrabbled through the bag’s contents. Her pursuer’s footsteps became ever nearer as she dug deeper. She cursed and threw items from her purse in her frantic search for her keys.

A large shadow loomed over her.

‘Please don’t hurt me, please! I’ve got money, look,’ Karen yelled. Her body curled up in complete terror while she pressed against the side of her blue BMW, awaiting the inevitable death stroke or worse.

To her relief, the sound of a calm voice filled her ears. The voice was slightly out of breath from the chase but smooth and familiar.

Karen chanced a peek from under the arm she had raised to protect her face.

‘Hey, I’m sorry to frighten you, Miss Karen, but you left these in the door.’ said a familiar voice.

Her arm dropped down, and she stood up from her cowering pose as if nothing had happened, quickly taking the keys from his huge dark hands. She playfully smacked his right arm with her bag and giggled.

‘Karl, you scared the crap out of me.’

They both laughed, and he helped to retrieve her belongings.

Karl opened the car door for her, then waited until she was safely inside before closing the heavy door; she rolled down the window and smiled again at the old man.

‘Good night, Miss, and I’m so sorry for scaring you,’ Karl apologised. ‘You have a safe journey home now.’ And with that, he turned and headed back towards the elevator.

Karen blew out a deep calming breath. Then, looking at herself in the rear-view mirror, she stuck out her tongue and made a ‘blaahh’ sound as if to make a self-examination. God, I look like crap, she thought.

God, I look like crapKaren gave a small self-indulgent smile as her thoughts strayed to the hot bath and glass of red wine waiting for her at home. After all that had happened tonight, she deserved it. Karen started the engine, at which the radio burbled to life. Music blared from the speakers as she sped away towards the exit. As she approached the barrier to the private parking lot, she noticed a large dumpster had drifted into the road blocking the exit.

You have got to be f*****g kidding me, she responded to this latest annoyance at the end of her day.

You have got to be f*****g kidding meWhipping the seatbelt out of its fastener, she got out of her car. She walked up to this new obstacle, grasped the handles of the bin, and heaved at it, but it did not budge.

She noticed that the brakes were on, which made her think it was deliberate.

Karen clenched her fists and looked up, swearing at the heavens.

Why me? Karen thought as she bent down to release the brakes. Suddenly, she was being grabbed from behind. She began to kick and scream, hoping the janitor would hear, that anyone would hear. Then Karen felt a rag being placed over her nose and mouth. Karen struggled against her assailant, kicking and clawing, but it had no effect. Whatever chemical was on the rag very quickly took effect. A tear rolled down her cheek as she drifted into darkness and was gone.

Why me?