John pulled his mobile from his pocket and, placing it on hands-free, called up Tina’s number. It rang out to voice mail. He tried a second and third time. Still she didn’t pick up.
‘Where the hell is she?’ he said to himself more than to Martin.
‘Work?’
‘No, she’s not in today.’
‘Do you completely trust her?’ said Martin.
‘If you mean, do I think she’s playing me, no I don’t think she is.’ said John. He kept his eyes on the traffic as he pulled out onto the main road and headed south out of the city. ‘She doesn’t know anything.’
‘Not even ..?’
‘Not even that her dead husband isn’t dead.’
Tina took a step back as the man advanced towards her. His steps were slow but with purpose.
‘What do you want? Money? It’s in the safe. I can get it,’ she forced the words from her throat.
The man grinned again. ‘Not the money.’
Tina’s stomach turned one way and then the next. She took another step back and glanced at the kitchen area. She needed something to defend herself with. The man continued his advance. His steps echoed in the empty café.
Tina saw the knives. They were at the back of the work area. She would have to go behind the counter to reach them. Could she get there before he got to her? Even if she did manage to get to them, she would be trapped behind the counter that ran along the side of the café. The toilets and storeroom were at the back of the café. If she managed to get down there before he did, she might be able to make it out the back door.
‘Don’t waste your time thinking how to escape,’ said the man. His accent was now more evident. It was one Tina was familiar with. One she had married into. Russian. As if to confirm Tina’s thoughts, the man said something in his native tongue to his wingman.
The other man grunted a response and hit the light switch. He then went to the windows at the front of the café and pulled down the blinds. A shadowy greyness fell across the room.
Tina knew this was best and possibly her only chance to escape. She had the advantage of knowing the layout of the shop. Her mind flitted to the back-door option, but this was dismissed. It was locked. There was a lock and two bolts to release. She wouldn’t have enough time. Her other option was the toilets. If she could buy enough time and lock herself in the cubicle she might be able to unlock the window and climb onto the street. The small Allan key window lock was on the bunch of keys she was holding.
Tina briefly wondered if she would be able to make a 999 call. Her phone was still in her hand, along with the keys. No, she decided, by the time she had unlocked the screen and made the call, her visitors would be upon her.
The man came to a stop at the table nearest to the counter. He pulled out a chair from one of the tables. ‘Don’t be scared, Tina. We only want to talk to you. Tell us what we want to know and we will leave.’
Tina eyed the chair. Somehow she didn’t think it would be as easy as that. Would they really let her go afterwards?
The wingman strolled over to the table and patted the chair, beckoning Tina with his other hand. ‘Come. Sit.’
Tina let her shoulders drop as if compliant. ‘Okay.’ She let out a small sigh and made to walk towards them. The first man smiled.
‘Good girl.’
As Tina spun on her heel and raced to the back of the café, she hoped to God she had given herself enough of a head start. She slammed through the swing door. It hit the rubber doorstop and bounced back. She gave it an extra push as she fled towards the toilets.
She could hear them cursing in Russian. Charging into the washroom area, Tina grabbed the chair that was in the corner and pushed it up under the handle. It would buy her an extra few seconds, if nothing else.
She slammed the toilet cubicle door shut, fumbled at the lock.
‘Fuck!’ she shouted as she remembered you had to align the stupid bolt up with the holder. She managed to get it in just as she heard the washroom door being shoulder-barged. Tina grappled with the keys. Her hands were damp from sweat.
The clatter of the chair skidding across the floor told her that they were in the washroom.
‘Tina. Stop this! Come out. Talk to us.’
Her skin crawled at the use of her name.
A fist hammered on the door outside and words between the two men were exchanged. Tina didn’t know what they were saying. She didn’t know enough Russian and her brain was only focused on the keys.
Another hammering on the door made her jolt. Her phone slipped from her hands and splashed straight into the toilet. She gave it a fleeting thought – her mind going straight back to the keys.
Balancing on the toilet seat, her hands shook violently as she pushed the hexagonal metal key into the window lock. She tried turning it to the left but it wouldn’t budge.