"If it's an excuse to get out of a traffic ticket, it's the best one I've ever heard," said Bruce.
"Do you believe me?" I asked.
Tony shrugged. "Not really. But you say your friend is on his way with the tape, so we'll have a look at it together and see if that changes things."
I checked my watch. Twenty minutes since I'd called Roger. He'd be here any second, as long as Theresa and Kyle weren't giving him any problems.
"Please, you have to promise me that you're not going to do any investigating," I said. "He'll kill them."
"Your story isn't leaving this room for the time being," Tony assured me. "I am, to get some coffee, but your story stays here."
"Thank you."
Bruce asked me some to clarify some parts of the story while we waited for Tony to return. When he did, it was with three cups of the worst coffee I'd ever tasted. The stuff made my tonguewant to leap out of my mouth and never return.
"While we're waiting, why don't you tell us your story again, to make sure we've got everything straight?" suggested Bruce. What he meant was, tell us the story again so we can try to catch you in a lie.
So I told them the story again.
After about ten minutes, I was starting to get a bit nervous. What was taking Roger so long?
After thirty minutes, I was more than nervous. I was frantic.
After an hour, I was terrified.
Chapter 19
AFTER ANOTHER fifteen minutes, there was a knock on the door. Bruce answered it and stepped outside to speak with somebody. Less than a minute later he returned.
"Your friend, his name is RogerTanglen , right?"
"Yes! Is he here? Does he have my kids?"
"Maybe you should come with me."
"Why? What happened?"
"Just come with me."
I followed Bruce and another cop out into the front area of the police station. Tony walked close behind us. I made every effort to think positive thoughts, even though a voice in my head kept shrieking that my children were dead.
As we walked through the front door I saw about five cops crowded around something in the parking lot, partially blocking it from my view. We hurried over to the crowd as the policeman who'd spoken to Bruce shouted for them to clear a path. The cops stepped aside to let us through, revealing what they were gathered around.
Roger.
He was standing against a large plank of wood, about the size of a door.In fact, itprobablywas a door. Bands fastened his legs at the ankles, and another band wrapped around his neck.
His eyes were wide and frightened. Duct tape over his mouth looked like it was wrapped all the way around his head. Above his head, neon orange letters proclaimed that this was "The Dismemberment Game!" Smaller letters in black magic marker said "Starring RogerTanglen and Andrew Mayhem." A note taped to Roger's chest read "Pigs, stay away! This is Andrew's game."
Fixed to the door were six machete blades, the flat edge of each blade on the wood. The bottom of each blade was attached to a mechanism that was clearly designed to swing it. A blade on each side of his head was positioned to lop off his arms at the shoulder, while blades on each side of his waist were positioned to lop off his legs. A blade next to his right shoulder was set to decapitate him. The sixth blade was at the very bottom of the door, resting on the pavement perpendicular to the door. Between Roger's legs there was an enormous slab of raw meat, probably a cow flank.
"Oh dear Lord..." whispered Tony.
"All right, everyone back!" shouted Bruce, waving his arms. "Clear some space! We need anything solid we could use to block those knives!"
I walked up to the door. "Can anyone get a chainsaw or something to cut him free?"
The officer closest to the door shook his head. "Look at the back."
I did so. From behind, I could see that the door was propped up by two pieces of wood at the bottom. The entire back of the door was a maze of what must have been thousands of multi-colored wires. Connected to the door by several other wires was a laptop computer, which the cop who'd taken my fingerprints currently had balanced on his palm.
"We don't know which one of those wires will spring the machete blades," said the fingerprint cop. "If we cut the wrong one, it could go off." He extended the laptop toward me. "Take this. It's for you."
I took the laptop from him and looked at the low-resolution, black-and-white display. "GET ANDREW MAYHEM,THEN PRESS ANY KEY. YOU HAVE 43 SECONDS REMAINING." The countdown continued.
"Don't press it yet," said the fingerprint cop. "We need as much time as possible to figure out a way to get him out of this."
The wires were long enough that I could walk around to the front of the door while still holding the laptop. I looked up at Roger and asked "He's got Kyle and Theresa, hasn't he?"
Roger gave me a small nod, and then closed his eyes.
Only sixteen seconds remained on the display. I couldn't panic. I couldn't lose it. I had to stay calm, focus, and make everything all right.
When only three seconds remained, I pressed the space bar. A new message appeared: "ENTER YOUR MOTHER'S MAIDEN NAME."
With my free hand I typed inKENDALL and hit return.
"BAD BOY, ANDREW.I SAID NO COPS. I'D PLANNED TO SAVE THIS GAME FOR A LITTLE LATER, BUT YOU'VE FORCED ME TO RUSH THINGS.TOO BAD FOR YOU.AND ROGER."
The screen went blank,then a new message appeared. "YOU MUST ANSWER FIVE QUESTIONS CORRECTLY. EACH TIME YOU MISS, ROGER LOSES AN APPENDAGE."
"My God,whois this guy?" asked Tony, looking at the screen.
"I don't know."
The number 10 appeared at the bottom of the screen, and went down by one with each passing second."PRACTICE QUESTION. WHO WAS THE TWELFTH PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES?"
"Who was our twelfth president?" I shouted. The cops began discussing it amongst themselves, and one counted on his fingers while reciting names.
"Hurry!I only have three seconds!"
"Tyler!" said the guy counting on his fingers. "No, no,Taylor ! Zachary Taylor!"
I typed in T-A-Y...
"TIME'S UP."
The bottom machete blade swung upward like an enormous mousetrap going off. It split through the meat and smashed into the wood with aloudthunk! The top of the blade came less than an inch from splitting Roger's jeans and the sensitive parts beneath them. Then it swung back and returned to its original position.
There was a gasp of shock from the crowd of police officers. Roger's eyes were closed so tightly that his head looked ready to burst.
"QUESTION ONE. RIGHT ARM. WHICH SKULL WEARS THE COWBOY HAT?"
Which one?Gaggles or Boo-Boo? I couldn't remember!
No, it had been Gaggles, right?
Five seconds remained. No time to replay the video in my mind. I typed GAGGLES and hit enter.
"CORRECT. RIGHT ARM SPARED."
I let myself breathe a sigh of relief.
"QUESTION TWO. LEFT ARM.WHICH SKULL BIT FIRST?"
I definitely knew this one.Boo-Boo.
I typed in BOO-BOO. Enter.
"CORRECT. LEFT ARM SPARED."
If they were all questions from the video, I could handle this. I'd certainly been paying attention when I watched it.
"QUESTION THREE. RIGHT LEG. WERE THERE MORE OR FEWER THAN FIFTY BITES THAT KILLED THE WOMAN ON THE BED?"
I didn't know! Possibly more than fifty, but I hadn't counted.