Overdue Justice

by M A Comley

“I will, love. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself at work, take a break if you need to. And when you walk out of the door for the last time, smack DCI Roberts in the mouth for me.”

  “You’re crazy, but I love ya. See you soon, Sally.”

  Chapter 8

  Her nerves jangled. If it wasn’t her father shouting at her every second of the day, it was Kathryn bending her ear about how dangerous her agenda was turning out to be. She’d had enough. Her head was full of plans that were slowly driving her crazy. She feared either her father or her sister was about to take the brunt of her frustrations.

  “I’m scared. Why can’t we just take off? Leave this dump?” Kathryn curled up into a ball beside her and trembled.

  Claire pulled the blanket over her. “We will, in time. We don’t have enough yet. The money we’ve got stashed away would only see us through a short time. Bear with me, sweetie.”

  “I’m trying. It’s hard. I keep wondering what I’d do without you. If you went to prison for killing…you know. I couldn’t go on, not without you by my side. I’m weak, unable to fight for my rights. You’re the strongest woman I know, Claire.”

  “I’ll let you into a secret…if anything ever happened to you, I’d crumble in a heartbeat. You’re my inspiration. The reason I do what I do. Yes, I protect you, I always have, but it works both ways. If there’s no you then there’s no me. What’s that saying? There’s no I in team. That’s what we are, love, a team. A kick-arse one at that.”

  They snuggled down together. Soon after Kathryn fell asleep, it wasn’t long before she twitched as her nightmares took over, her legs kicking out at Claire. She knew there was no point waking her. It was the same routine every night. Once Kathryn fell into a deeper sleep, that was when she relaxed and the anxious movements ceased. Claire remained awake for another couple of hours, reliving the ordeals of not only the murders she’d recently committed but also the sequence of events the men had forced upon her and her sister at such a young age. She was justified in her actions, there was no doubting that, not in her eyes. Maybe others would have a problem dealing with the situation, though.

  Denis’s face drifted into her head. In her mind’s eye she was ten again. Her father had forced her into the room alone to be with the vile man. He’d stripped her naked and leered at every inch of her pre-adolescent body. She’d trembled, not because the room was cold—no, under his intensive gaze, trying to block out the hatred coursing through her veins. She was aware by now of what to expect. She’d gone through this same ritual more times than she cared to remember. At least twenty times. She’d stopped counting after that.

  “Hello, my little China Doll. Come, sit on the bed with me.”

  She detested the nickname he’d given her after the first time he’d laid his grubby hands on her skin. She’d tried to zone out, the way she always did when she was with him. Most of the time she’d instinctively known what these men wanted. Her father had forced her to watch porn films from the age of six, preparing her for how she should respond to these vile creatures. Denis’s hands had slid across her young body, and his lips touched her neck. She’d closed her eyes, trying to block out the emotion building within and striving even harder to suppress the urge to projectile vomit over him.

  A cold sweat broke out, covering her flesh. She couldn’t think about it any more. It didn’t matter now; the man had raped her for the last time. So had Larry. He’d been even worse than Denis in his demands. Over time, he’d become far more brazen in his requests. Degrading images swam in her head. Would she ever be rid of them? The images were burned into her mind. Maybe in time she would, but she feared that day would come only when she’d successfully killed every man on her list. She said each of their names at night, and as her eyes closed, she imagined their screams when she took her revenge.

  She drifted off to sleep eventually and woke at nine-thirty the next morning to hear Kathryn crying. Claire sat up and pulled on her sister’s shoulder, forcing her to face her. “Hey, what’s wrong, love?”

  “I’m scared. I had a nightmare. In it the police carted you off. Took you away from me. Don’t let them do that, please, Claire. Let’s drop all those plans you’ve made. Take what you have and go.”

  “We can’t, not yet. We’ve discussed this at length. We simply don’t have enough money, not yet, and even—”

  Her father’s roar interrupted their conversation. Both girls froze and stared at the door. His feet thundered up the stairs, and within seconds he was standing in the doorway of their bedroom, his face almost purple with rage.

  “Is something wrong, Father?” Claire asked cautiously.

  “Yes. Why are you still in bed? It’s nearly ten o’clock. I want to be on the road by eleven.”

  “Are you going somewhere?”

  “We all are. Now get ready. You,” he said, pointing at Claire, never one to feel comfortable about using his daughters’ names. “Pack my bag as well as your own. Come on, get cracking.”

  “How long are we going for, Father?” She hated the weakness prevalent in her voice, but it was a necessary evil for her to portray that weakness. He needed to recognise how weak she was to divert any suspicions he may get. Although he was fully aware of what she was capable of, having witnessed her first murder, he had no idea of her recent murderous actions. If he found out, he’d be furious and beat the living shit out of her.

  “A few days. Look at it as a kind deed. I’m taking you on holiday to the Lakes. Now get a move on.”

  He stormed out of the room and back down the stairs.

  Claire threw the bedding back. “Come on, we don’t have much time. Are you all right to pack your own bag?”

  “Of course I am. I’m not a child, you know.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. Let’s get on with it. Make sure you pack some jumpers; the nights can be cold up there.”

  Kathryn saluted her. “I will, Captain.”

  Claire ran into the bathroom and stood under the shower for a few minutes, mentally working out what to pack for herself and her father and wondering if they had enough cases for the three of them. She didn’t think so. It didn’t matter, she could fling her stuff in a black bag. A slight thrill tickled her spine. He’d never taken them on holiday before, which begged the question, why now? Did he know about Denis and Larry?

  Kathryn had found a small overnight bag in her wardrobe and was adding the final jumper to it as Claire entered the room. “All set, are you?”

  “I think so, do you want to check I haven’t forgotten anything?”

  “No, I trust you. I think I have a black sack in here.” She got down on her hands and knees and rummaged at the bottom of the wardrobe. “Yes.” Then she proceeded to bundle as many clothes as she could fit into the bag, aware that her sister would probably borrow some of hers when they got there. Five minutes later, she went into her father’s room and hunted in his wardrobe for an old Adidas sports bag he’d picked up from a jumble sale years earlier. She threw a few underwear garments, shirts, trousers and jumpers into it and collected his toiletries from the bathroom.

  “Ten minutes. Are you girls ready yet?”

  “Soon, Father.”

  “Get a move on,” he yelled angrily. “We leave at eleven on the dot, whether you’re ready or not. I don’t want to get caught up in the traffic on the M1 and M6.”

  “I hear you, Father. We’re almost there.” She flew back into the bedroom she shared with her sister. “All set? Do you have your toiletries?”

  “Crap, I knew I’d forget something. What about towels?”

  “We’d better take a couple. Can you grab three from the airing cupboard on your way back and throw them in my sack?”

  Claire took the other bags downstairs. In the end, they were ready to set off at five minutes to eleven. The only thing left to pack were their shoes. She decided they should all wear their trainers for the journey and take another pair of shoes with them in case their father did something out of character and took them out
for a meal during their stay.

  Her father inspected their belongings and threw them in the boot of the car. He handed Claire the keys. “You’re driving.”

  Keeping up the pretence, she feigned shock. “I can’t. It’s been ages since I’ve driven a car, Father.”

  “Time you got back in the saddle then, isn’t it?” he sneered. Grabbing her painfully around her wrist, he dug the pointed end of one of the keys into the palm of her hand.

  Aware of what would happen if she cried out in pain, she remained silent. Instead, she took the keys and nodded at her father.

  They set off. Claire intentionally made the first few miles uncomfortable for all of them, pretending that she was feeling strange behind the wheel.

  “Get a grip. Sort those gears out, girl. I hope we don’t have to contend with this shit all the way up north!”

  “It’s been a few years since I’ve driven, Father. Maybe you should drive.”

  He reached over, his seat belt restraining his movements, and slapped her across the face. “Stop your complaining or I’ll give you something to complain about. You hear me?”

  “Yes, Father. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  In the background, Kathryn’s stomach rumbled. Neither of them had eaten since six the previous evening. Her own stomach joined in soon after. Her father ignored the noise. Claire knew he would have eaten first thing; he was a creature of habit in that respect. Feeding his own belly while he starved theirs. It was more than she dare do to suggest they stop on the five-hour-plus journey for sustenance. She would only end up getting another backhander.

  The traffic on the M6 ground to a halt in one section due to roadworks. This infuriated her father. She flinched several times when he hit the dashboard with his clenched fist.

  After that nightmare part of the journey was over, he reluctantly gave in and ordered Claire to pull into the next available services. She smiled at her sister in the rear-view mirror. Kathryn stared back at her, her eyes filled with tears. Claire’s heart hurt at the torture her sister was going through. Having food in your belly was a basic necessity in this life, which both of them frequently missed out on. It was obvious that when they returned to the house Claire would need to up the ante. She ran through the list in her mind and picked out a name she knew would lead them to their way out.

  “Here. Pull in here, you dozy mare.”

  Distracted by their plight, she’d almost missed the turning for the services. She found a space close to the entrance. Her father ordered them to stay in the car. Watching him walk towards the huge building, Claire was tempted to take off, but she soon realised how foolish that would be. She needed time to gather her thoughts, to piece things together. She hadn’t had time to retrieve any of the money from the attic anyway.

  “I can’t cope with this. I’ve had enough,” Kathryn complained.

  Claire unclipped her seat belt and swivelled in her seat to face her sister. “We have to. Hang in there, sweetie. It’s too soon to think about taking off.”

  “Too soon? We’ve lived this miserable life for years now. When will it bloody end? I’m constantly ill, I’m undernourished. We both are.” She glanced out of the side window and pointed at a young man sitting in a car a few spaces away from them stuffing his face. “What I wouldn’t give for a tiny bite of his burger. Look at him. I’m salivating just watching him. It’s torture, pure and simple. Why does Father keep us with him, apart from the obvious, that is?”

  “To give us our freedom would mean he’s failed in this life. I hear you on the food front, I could eat a rotting horse I’m that hungry. Oh crap, he’s coming back.” Claire swiftly buckled herself in again and started the engine.

  Her father flung the door open and dropped into the passenger seat.

  Out of her peripheral vision, she noticed three chocolate bars in his hand. Her mouth watered, and she imagined taking a satisfying bite out of each bar.

  “Well, what are you waiting for? Drive off.”

  Her gaze caught her sister’s in the mirror. Kathryn shook her head, and a stray tear slid down her cheek. When will this end? I’ll have to think long and hard about that. I’m tempted to end it while we’re away. Let’s see where we end up first, and then I’ll decide.

  Her father fiddled with the satnav, punching in the postcode that would take them to their final destination. He replaced the equipment on its mount on the dashboard and promptly fell asleep with the chocolate bars acting as forms of the most despicable torture ever.

  Claire’s blood boiled, not for herself, but for Kathryn. Observing her sister in the mirror, she seemed broken almost beyond repair.

  The journey was conducted in silence apart from the odd snore which erupted from their father. Kathryn got Claire’s attention when she gestured that she wanted to throttle their father while he slept. Claire had to admit the same thought had occurred to her once or twice, too. Claire’s mind drifted, back in time to another occasion involving not only Denis but Larry as well. It was her first time with two men in the same room. One depraved individual watching on while the other raped her. She remembered it well. It had been her tenth birthday. Her father had held a ‘special’ party for her where only his friends were invited. That was the year she’d stopped looking forward to celebrating her birthday. He’d ordered each of the men, five in total, to give her a ‘special present’ she wasn’t likely to forget. After enduring two painful hours in the company of the men, she’d bid them farewell and rushed upstairs to her bedroom and flung herself on the bed.

  Kathryn was five then. Her sister was annoyed with her, thought she’d missed out on the party. Seeing Claire break down when she’d thrown herself on the bed in tears appeared to soften her heart. Kathryn had stroked Claire’s head, telling her over and over that everything would be all right. She’d told her that if Father had upset her on her birthday, she was sure he hadn’t meant to do it.

  Claire smiled up at her, looking into the eyes of a child whose innocence would be stripped from her in years to come. How she’d hated her father that day and every day since. But she hated the men who’d raped her even more.

  Her father emitted a loud snore and woke up. “Are we there yet?”

  “Not yet. Another hour or so according to the satnav.”

  He tore open a Mars bar and bit into it, moaning satisfactorily as the chocolate combined with the toffee and soft nougat in his mouth. Kathryn’s tummy rumbled once more as envy struck. Neither of them spoke. They sat there in silence as their father proceeded to pile on the torture. Claire clenched her fists tighter around the steering wheel, forcing back the temper rising within.

  Finally, after he’d completed his chocolate bar, he threw one over his shoulder to Kathryn. She ripped the wrapper off and gobbled three consecutive mouthfuls without taking a breath.

  “Take your time,” Claire ordered her sister.

  “Leave her alone to enjoy it. You’re always bossing her around. Don’t think it goes unnoticed, bitch.”

  “I do no such thing,” she snapped back.

  His fist hit the side of her face. The car swerved and the vehicle behind blasted its horn.

  “Shut the fuck up. Stop arguing with me. That’s it, I’m going to have your bar now.”

  Claire stared in the mirror. Kathryn quickly shoved the rest of her Mars in her mouth. Their gazes locked; there was no remorsefulness in her sister’s eyes. Her survival instinct had kicked in, that much was evident.

  Claire’s stomach rumbled for the rest of the journey. She slowed and approached the log cabin on the banks of a large lake. She didn’t have a clue where they were. The three of them unloaded the car—well, Kathryn and Claire did most of the work, her father keen on dishing out the instructions as usual. It wasn’t until they rounded the corner that Claire spotted another cabin around twenty feet away from them. She exhaled a relieved breath. Maybe they wouldn’t be alone up here after all. Her father was usually on his best behaviour when they weren’t alone. Sh
e had a spring in her step now and gathered the rest of their belongings to take to the cabin. She paused and stared across the lawn between them and the other cabin as a horrible thought descended. Maybe the cabin would be empty during our stay. She said a little prayer, hoping she was wrong.

  Once all the bags were transferred into the cabin and the girls had unpacked their belongings, Claire figured out how to boil the kettle, and with her father’s permission, made them all a coffee. The inside of her mouth tasted like coarse sandpaper. It had been almost twenty-four hours since the last cup of coffee had passed her lips.

  Every now and again, she snuck a look out of the window at the cabin next door, eager to see if any residents arrived. But her father caught her and slapped her around the face and ordered her to sit down. The three of them sat there in silence. There was no food in the cupboards, and her father hadn’t instructed her to stop off at the supermarket en route. What, and when, would they eat?

  She sat on the fabric sofa and rested her elbow on the wooden arm, Kathryn alongside her, her stomach rumbling louder than ever.

  “Can’t you shut that thing up?” her father demanded, leaping out of his chair and pacing the floor in front of them.

  “I can’t. I’m hungry. We both are,” Kathryn mumbled. She sank back in her chair out of reach. But it wasn’t long before the palm of his hand connected with her cheek.

  Claire jumped to her feet and stood between her father and her sister. “Don’t lay another hand on her.”

  “It’s all right, Claire, he didn’t hurt me.”

  Her father closed the gap between them. His face lowered to within inches of her own. She smelt his nicotine breath and wanted to retch.

  “You don’t want to do this, girl. Sit down and shut up.”

  “I do. We need food. You ate in the car and probably had breakfast before we set off. Our last meal was at six last night.”

  Outside, a car rumbled past the cabin and stopped.

  “That’s our food delivery now. What? Did you think I had forgotten?” he challenged her. Her father marched towards the door, yanked it open and stepped outside. “Great timing. How was your trip?”