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Authors: Sandrine Spycher

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BOOK: Red-Hot Ruby
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“Carter, gun on the floor. Now,” Williams said. Carter complied with a childish disappointed pout. “Good,” Williams continued, “put your hands where I can see them.” Carter sighed bitterly and lifted his hands in front of him. “Now you,” Williams told Farrell, “put that suitcase down and your hands up.”

Carter looked at her and saw little tears of discouragement in her eyes. She slowly bent down and delicately lay the ruby on the carpet. A second later, they were both handcuffed and led out of the building.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Them

 

“This is all your fault,” Carter stated.

“Excuse me?” Farrell yelled angrily. “Who lead the cops to my place? Oh yeah, that was
you
.”

“Shut up, you two,” Williams intervened. “You sound like an old couple.”

Carter was about to talk back, but Williams pushed him into the car and he was forced to shut his mouth. Farrell was also motioned to sit at the back of a police car. They exchanged a quick look before the doors closed on them. Neither of them really knew what the other meant by that look. Carter imagined that Farrell was thinking about his kisses and caresses. Farrell imagined that Carter was thinking about escaping and getting the ruby back.

Williams got in the car with Carter, and Cowley drove with Farrell. They had a long drive ahead of them. Silence had already started invading the cars oppressively. Farrell struggled with her handcuffs. She couldn’t find a comfortable posture, let alone break free from the cuffs. After hurting her wrists in vain attempts to escape her bonds, she sat back with a sigh. Cowley looked at her in the central mirror. A heavy, judgmental look.

Farrell despised her. Cowley seemed way too posh to be in the police. She was over-judgmental, and over-using that look which said “I captured you so I’m superior to you and I’ll gladly show it.” Farrell stopped fighting with her cuffs and was actually getting used to the cold rigid metal on her skin.

Instead she started thinking about a way to fool Cowley so that she might have a chance to escape. She wouldn’t talk to the cop because of her haughty complexion. She couldn’t move her hands, and was too closely watched to move her feet. So she focused on the mirror. Each time Cowley glanced at the back seat, she would now see a steady and impassive look.

Farrell hoped that, at some point, preferably before arriving at destination, Cowley would be somewhat bothered by that look and a sort of crisis would follow, hopefully leading to her escape. That would have been a really good plan if Cowley wasn’t so impassive herself. Farrell was already getting annoyed by her own game.

 

In the other car, Carter had adopted a similar strategy. As no handcuffs could resist him, his hands were already free, but he was waiting for the right moment to make his move. Meanwhile, he stared at Williams in the mirror and smiled. Smiled his half-smile which meant anything but joy and delight. No, Carter was mocking Williams and the policeman knew it.

“No escaping this time, pal,” he said.

“We’ll see,” Carter answered, not losing his mocking expression. “How’s your boyfriend?” he soon continued.

“What?” Williams yelped. “How do you…” The end of his sentence died in his surprise. He got his eyes back on the road just in time to avoid crashing into the car in front of him. Williams was still recovering from the shock caused by Carter’s question when the latter laughed. Williams raised his eyes to find Carter’s in the mirror.

“You’re not a very good actor, officer,” Carter said.

“Why would I need to?” Williams asked sharply.

“You keep trying to look cool, but you can’t fool me.”

“I
am
cool,” Williams countered. “And you’re talking too much.”

Carter laughed bitterly, but didn’t reply. He looked out of the window. A few more turns and he would get out that car. The streets were blazing with colored lighting from the different buildings. The wet road reflected the flickering blue lights of the police cars. Carter looked ahead. The light was green. Still green. Yellow. At last, red. The car stopped. It was time to move.

“Say, officer,” Carter said while leaning forward, “why don’t you have these back.” He handed the handcuffs. “I don’t think I’ll be needing them anymore.”

Williams started up. He reached for his gun and turned back to see Carter open the door and jump out.

“What the fuck?” Williams shouted despite himself. How on Earth had Carter been able to open a door which was supposed to be locked. No, not supposed to; it
was
locked, Williams had made sure of it himself. In less than a minute, Carter had disappeared through the traffic, leaving Williams open-mouthed and humiliated.

 

Carter jumped from one car into the other to escape Williams’ careful—really?—eyes. It was easier than expected to open a back door, slide on the back seat, and get out on the other side. Drivers hardly even noticed him.

After being sure that Williams had lost sight of him, Carter stopped and looked back over his shoulder. He was free, but had lost the ruby. He’d lost the ruby, but was free and wouldn’t stay for long if he wasted time thinking about the ruby. What a shame, though, to lose such a beautiful jewel.

Speaking of jewels, Carter’s eyes suddenly met those of Farrell, which were widened by surprise. For a moment, Carter thought of abandoning her to her fate. But there was something about that woman that made him change his mind.

Carter ran to catch up with Cowley’s car. It didn’t take long as she had to stop at another red light. He waited for her to start again and foolishly jumped in front of her wheels. As he expected, Cowley made a sharp turn to avoid hitting him. The car crashed loudly against the next building, making a few pedestrians scream and run away.

Cowley and Farrell were both half knocked out. Carter opened the back door and pulled Farrell to him. She was still dizzy because of the crash. Barely able to stand on her legs, Farrell let herself be carried away in Carter’s strong arms. He ran holding her for a minute, and then put her back on her feet.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I think so,” Farrell articulated. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. We gotta keep running; get as far from this avenue as we can.”

“Anything you can do about these?” Farrell asked, motioning to her tied hands.

“Hm,” Carter seemed to be thinking.

“Oh come on, I thought no handcuffs could resist you. Just help me out.”

“Well, it’s easier when they’re on
my
wrists. And it would be a shame to break your thumb,” he said, caressing her hands.

“What?” Farrell exclaimed. She moved away in horror. Carter always used such a cold tone that it was hard to tell if he was joking or not. “You’re not actually gonna do that, are you?”

“No,” he replied with a soothing voice. “Come here, little girl, I’ll get you free.”

“You sound creepy. I don’t like that.”

“Really?” Carter winked. He took a fast step closer to Farrell. “Do you have a hair clip, or something thin like that?” he asked.

“Front right pocket.”

Carter smiled when he slid his hand in Farrell’s jeans pocket. His hand lingered there more than it needed to. He then fought with the handcuffs for a while, but finally managed to get Farrell’s right hand free. She smiled with delight. Yet, the joy didn’t last as they soon had to resume their run. Blue lights flashed in the street behind them. Thankfully the night hid them quite well.

 

Williams found Cowley bleeding and holding her shoulder. She seemed more in fury than in pain, but Williams called an ambulance nonetheless.

“I’m okay,” she kept saying. “I don’t need any ambulance.”

“Yes, you do,” Williams answered, “I don’t like having you all covered in blood like that and not looked at.”

Cowley sighed, but eventually complied. “How did they do it?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Williams confessed. “I was driving, everything was fine apart from the fact that he was teasing me, and—”

“Teasing you how?”

“That’s not important,” Williams said, looking away. “We came to a stop, and suddenly he was gone.”

“What, just like that?” Cowley objected in astonishment.

“Yes.” Williams was still pondering the matter. He had absolutely no explanation to Carter’s escape. “I just don’t know how he did it,” he was forced to admit.

“Well, I confess that I was surprised too,” Cowley said. “He came out of nowhere, and all of a sudden was standing in front of my wheels. I had to drive into there,” she gestured toward the wall, “so that I wouldn’t hit him.”

She looked at Williams. He seemed to be thinking so hard he would soon faint out of exhaustion. He blamed himself. Although he was sure he had locked the door, doubt started eating away his confidence.

The ambulance lights made him snap out of his reflections. While Cowley’s shoulder was being looked at, Williams made a few phone calls in order to have every policeman in New York—or so he hoped—searching for Carter and Farrell. Williams promised himself that he would find Carter, and that, next time, he wouldn’t let the devil run away.

 

After a long and uncomfortable run, Farrell and Carter stopped in a by-street. They took a minute to catch their breath and consider their position. While Carter knew exactly where he was—he hadn’t made his move haphazardly—Farrell had to look from left to right, acknowledging the buildings and street names.

“History seems to go in circles,” Carter noted, finally breaking the silence.

“What?” Farrell said, frowning.

“A few years back, I was arrested by the same cop. I managed to escape, but lost my treasure. Just like today,” he explained.

“What was the treasure?” Farrell eagerly wanted to know.

“A manuscript of—”

“What? A lame piece of paper?” Farrell interrupted.

“It wasn’t paper,” Carter started. “Never mind. I almost forgot women only like shining stuff.”

“Oh please,” Farrell said in an exasperated voice. “I liked the ruby for its value, not because it was shining.”

“Yeah, whatever. Anyway it’s lost now.”

They were both silent until they saw police cars drive down the street past them. Carter turned to face Farrell. She smiled at him. Despite her values, she had to admit she liked him. Just a little bit.

“I didn’t think you’d come back for me,” she said.

“Me neither.”

“I guess this is farewell then, mister Carter.”

“Not before one last kiss I hope,” Carter offered with a wink.

“Kissing you has proved bad luck until now,” Farrell laughed. Yet, she rose on her tiptoes and her tongue slid in between Carter’s lips. A minute later they were walking in opposite directions, their backs to one another.

 

The ruby stayed in the police office for several weeks. Duval, the artist, had already gone back to France when his creation finally boarded the plane. About eight hours later, it landed in Paris. Duval wasn’t there in person. He didn’t think it was necessary because an NYPD officer was accompanying the jewel. The policeman took a cab to Duval’s private art gallery. Once there, the artist asked to examine his creation to make sure it hadn’t suffered any damage. He opened the suitcase, and a look of anger distorted his face when he peered inside it.

“What is the meaning of this, officer Williams?” he yelled at the cop.

“What are you talking about?” Williams asked in surprise.

Duval pivoted the suitcase so that Williams could see what the problem was. Astonishment left Williams open mouthed. The case was empty.

“I… I don’t understand,” Williams said. He snatched the case from Duval’s hands to examine it closer.

“Is this your idea of a joke?” Duval shouted angrily.

“No,” Williams answered. “It should be there. I don’t know what happened.”

They both stared, powerless, at the empty case.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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BOOK: Red-Hot Ruby
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