As I stared, there was a sound of a phone ringing in Martyn’s pocket, and he let go of my hair abruptly. He thrust the gag back into my mouth before heading towards the door, then stopped and glared at me.
“This shed is soundproofed, so don’t think about removing the gag and screaming for help. Both my neighbours are away, and besides, nobody ever comes along here. So you’d be wasting your breath. If you behave, I’ll think about removing it later. He reached down and opened a plastic box lying near the door and he removed a syringe. With one fluid movement, he yanked down my tracksuit trousers and jabbed the needle into my thigh. I remember sinking towards the floor as he opened the door and locked and bolted it behind him.
I listened to his receding footsteps going down the path towards the house as fuzziness overcame me, and with a sense of foreboding, I wondered what horrible plans he had in store. I had been stupid; I should have insisted on back-up, made sure I went there with…
Chapter 36
I had no idea how long I slept. I woke up gradually, stretching and feeling cramped with aches and pains all over my body. My eyelids seemed glued together, and I realised I had been crying just as I lost consciousness.
As soon as I was fully conscious, I noticed it must have been sunny outside, as the shed seemed flooded with light, even with the sackcloth tacked against the window frame. I was lying on my back, and I attempted to roll over, only to discover I was now inside a sleeping bag, with a blanket spread beneath. This time, my hands were tied together in the front with red cable ties; my ankles weren’t tied together, but by the feel of it, one ankle was attached to something else. I reached down and decided this was also a cable tie, but it appeared to be secured to a chain of some sort. I glanced down, squirming around in the bag and discovered the chain to be a long bicycle lock. Oh my God! This was bad enough, but perhaps my worst nightmare was about to begin.
Martyn had stripped me naked.
The only consolation was he had removed the gag from my mouth. I reached down and wondered whether I could slip the tie off, but found it to be tight around my ankle. I checked the bicycle lock and cable and noticed that the chain snaked out from the sleeping bag and led to a D-ring bolted into the side of the shed. The ring was sunk well into the wood, and I knew I wouldn’t have the strength to pull it out with my bare hands, or by bracing my feet against the wood.
I couldn’t see any useful tools which would have made good weapons, and there weren’t any of my clothes lying around. Not that I could have put them on, anyway, with the cable ties in place. My hip-pack containing the screwdriver I had taken with me was nowhere to be seen. A thought struck me. Martyn was no newcomer to this game. He had planned this down to the last detail. He had done it before. The thought made me pause. I knew about Evie, Kate and Amanda’s cousin, Sally. But who else had he murdered?
My thoughts chilled me. This wasn’t just a Martyn I dated for a couple of weeks or who had married my sister and best friend’s sister. This man was a stalker, a predator and killer of women.
As I struggled around in the dank sleeping bag, I checked the shed again for a weapon. Anything would have been useful. I noticed a small cool box lying a couple of feet away and wriggled over to it. The box contained nothing but three bottles of water, a small amount of loose ice and a sandwich wrapped in tinfoil. He meant me to live for a few hours more, then.
My throat felt sore and parched, probably due to the sedative Martyn had used to knock me out, and I took one of the bottles from the box. I went to unscrew the cap and found the seal broken, as were those of the other two bottles. I felt a shiver run down my spine. What if he had doctored the water, administered a drug which would render me unconscious? I had heard of Rohypnol and other so-called date-rape drugs but knew nothing about them other than that they were tasteless in fluid and induced sleepiness, a drunken feeling and loss of memory.
But I needed to drink. An ugly thought occurred to me: Martyn obviously wasn’t interested in fighting me. He preferred to have me submissive. By restraining me, he could do what he liked. I ignored the water and scrabbled around on the floor, peering as far ahead as I could. The only thing my close scrutiny produced was a small zinc-plated vine-eye screw, lodged between the floor and the wall. I scooted as near as I could on my bottom and reached for the screw which was caught in a fine crack. If only I could prise it loose, it would make a weapon of some sort.
I used my nails to grope for it in the dirt, breaking most of them, but eventually, I pulled the screw free. I looked down at the garden implement in my hands. Not much in the way of defence, but it might have given me a moment of protection.
I estimated I had spent half an hour working the screw free, and I felt thirstier than ever. I shuffled back to the cool box, picked up one of the bottles and then poured the water away in the darkest corner I could make for. I then scooped up some of the ice and scrunched my way through a few cubes, my raw throat welcoming the soothing numbness.
Afterwards, I sat back and devised a plan of sorts. I had nothing with which to protect myself, apart from a vine screw. I was tied at one ankle and both wrists with cable ties, which I couldn’t snap apart. I tried chewing my way through, but Martyn had used more than one cable tie and these were thick, tough plastic. I would keep chewing, but I didn’t hold out much hope of breaking free in time and had no idea when he would return.
The only other thing at my disposal was the bicycle chain and lock. I moved as far away from the D-ring in the wall as possible, at the same time keeping back a tiny bit of slack on the bicycle chain and lock. I then lay on top of the chain, and wriggled round so that I formed a loop of spare chain under my shoulders. There was a chance it could work.
The sunlight began to disappear, and I felt thirsty again. Taking a chance, I poured away another bottle of water and chewed the last of the ice cubes which were melting fast. I ignored the sandwich and then lay back in my chosen position and waited.
I must have dozed, as the next thing I heard was the sound of a key in the lock and a bolt being drawn back. I raised my tied hands above my head and feigned sleep; my eyelids drooped. I waited and felt a waft of cool air drift across my uncovered brow. I hoped I painted an image of oblivious surrender. My fingers were curled around the vine screw, hopefully hidden.
I knew Martyn had entered the shed. I felt the wooden floor vibrate beneath my buttocks and shoulders and heard the soft closing of the shed door as it swung shut behind him. I waited, forcing myself to appear asleep, praying my breath seemed slow and even. He approached and touched my thigh with a foot. I didn’t respond, just silently implored that my eyelids didn’t flutter and betray my awareness. He moved towards the cool box and flipped open the lid and I guessed he was checking whether I had drunk the water.
I heard a familiar laugh and pictured that twisted smile of his, which always accompanied it.
“This is going to be so sweet,” he said, and in dread, I recognised the sneer in his voice.
I heard a click and when a soft light filtered beneath my eyelids, understood he had switched on an electric light. The bulb glowed overhead, and I could see his silhouette through my eyelashes as he peered down at me, intently, deliberately raking his eyes from my head to my covered toes. I bit back a cry when he stooped down and slowly drew back the zip on the sleeping bag. My uncovered body felt the cool draught as it travelled over my skin, raising goose bumps and forcing my nipples to harden involuntarily.
I felt my heart beating against my rib cage; it was as if it was a drum—hectic and heavy. I willed my breathing to stay controlled. I couldn’t risk Martyn knowing I was awake.
I heard a soft whisper and knew he was removing his clothes: a rustle of cotton, Velcro on his trainers, a clunk as he threw them to one side of the wooden floor. He moved closer, and I smelt his breath, hot and slightly sour, before it quickened as he slipped his hand over my breast. I could feel a callous on his thumb as he caressed my nipple between his fingers…I wanted to scream, to lash
out…but I willed myself…not yet, not yet.
I wondered if he noticed my trembling when he slid his hands over my stomach and down to my thighs, moving them apart. Please no!
His hands never stopped, stroking, exploring…he bent his head, and I felt his tongue flick at my navel, moving ever further down. I didn’t think I could contain it any more.
He suddenly stopped and reached for his jeans, and in disgust I watched him remove his phone from his pocket. There was a flash, followed by another. He prised my legs wide apart, another flash. I felt nausea overtake me and wondered how long it would be before I threw up.
He tossed the phone down on his bundle of clothes and positioned himself over my body, between my legs, his head looming up blotting out the light.
Steeling myself, I knew it was now or never…
My arms still above my head, I uncurled my fingers from the screw, and with all my strength drove it at his face, aiming for his eye. I almost gagged when I felt warm fluid ooze over my hands, but I didn’t pause as I pushed at his socket with my thumb. Martyn screamed, and before he had time to rear back, I threw the loop of bicycle chain lock round his neck. I closed my eyes tight as I pulled as hard as I could, dragging the crossed steel cable tauter and tighter as far as my tied hands would allow. I knew I couldn’t afford to let go. It was a simple: him or me.
When he fought against me, I stretched my ankle down as far as it would go, dragging and tightening the cable from the other end. He responded by punching me in the mouth and chest, I knew I couldn’t let him gain control and wrapped my legs round his waist, knowing my miles of running had given me muscles like iron and hoping I could restrain him for as long as it took. Martyn couldn’t get out of my stronghold and retaliated by sinking his teeth into my shoulder. I remember screaming, but I couldn’t let go, not even when he tried rolling over to dislodge my grip. With tears pouring down my face and mingling with the fluid from his eye, I clung on until I was on top and pulling with all my might on the cable. My hands ached, my fingers became slippery from blood and mucus, and he clawed at my face, fighting for a grip. He heaved beneath me, but I hung on, my mind beating a mantra…it was all for…Evie…Kate…Evie…Kate…
Suddenly I was aware another person had entered the shed. I shot a look of sheer alarm towards the door and realised I knew who it was. It was all right, I wasn’t hallucinating, but I couldn’t hold on much longer. It seemed as if I had used all my strength. I sobbed in relief as the newcomer added strength to mine, gloved hands aiding mine as I pulled the chain round Martyn’s neck ever tighter. I stared almost mesmerised, until I felt a shudder go through him, his heels stopped drumming on the floor; his body ceased its relentless fight and became slack.
I still didn’t believe what I had done, and I held onto him until my own blood forced its way through my clenched, cramped fingers. He didn’t move for some minutes before I dared let go and collapsed next to him. My body was shaking and shuddering, my breath coming in gasps. I knew I was bathed in blood, sweat and tears.
I glanced up and gazed at the figure beside me while I found my breath.
“You came. Thank you, thank you. But you’d better go now. He’s dead. But you’d better go before you’re caught here. I’ll use his phone to ring for help.”
I crawled over to Martyn’s pile of clothes and stretched for his phone, crying and laughing hysterically at the same time as my fingertips reached the plastic casing. I knew, apart from Martyn’s corpse, I was now completely alone. My hands shook when I punched in the one number which I knew would bring salvation in some way or other.
Chapter 37
It seemed forever before Jon answered the phone. I don’t know why I rang him and not the police first. I just knew it seemed the right thing to do. They didn’t believe me before when I wanted help, why would they now? Jon was the only person who could deliver redemption.
I remember my heart beating so fast it thudded in my ears. Martyn had bitten my shoulder and smashed his fist into my face, but even though I knew blood poured from my wounds, I hardly felt the pain. All I kept thinking was how similar it was to before, when I discovered Evie; only this time, I could taste it. Warm and metallic. I kept my eyes closed tight against the carnage lying next to me.
Despite my shocked state, I managed to stutter a message to Jon. “It’s him,” I said. “Martyn did it all along.” My teeth chattered against one another.
“Moya? What the fuck? I didn’t recognise the number. Where are you? What do you mean?”
“I just said…can you get a message…the police…” I felt dizzy and sick and knew I was on the verge of passing out.
“Darling, where are you? Tell me. Sweetheart I’m here, I’ve just got home.”
Home. What a wonderful connotation of peace and safety. Would I ever feel free?
“I killed him,” I said. “Please come and get me.” Shivers wracked my body. I thought my teeth would never stop chattering.
***
I heard the sound of someone approaching, footsteps ringing on the path. A blast of cool air, a gentle touch on my face and cheeks. I couldn’t help flinching away, it was so sore.
“Moya. My God! For fuck’s sake, what happened here?” He stood in the doorway, as if afraid to come any nearer.
“Jon.” I fought back my tears. I had to stay coherent; there would be time enough for crying later. I took a long second staring at Jon’s familiar kind face, his brow wracked with lines of worry. Those lovely familiar, kind eyes which filled my being with love. I needed his normal calm right now, not panic. “Martyn was going to kill me. He tied me up,” I lifted my hands and showed him the cable ties still around my wrists cutting cruelly into my skin.
“What? Oh Moya, my love, what’s he done? Has he…hurt you?”
From the dark expression on his face, I knew that wasn’t what he meant, and I shrank inside. I shook my head. “No, no not in that way. He smashed my face and bit me, but that’s all.”
He knelt down, inches from my side, near and yet not near enough; he shook his head in anguish. “That’s all? Listen, Moya, the police are on their way. Darling, I’m so sorry. I…when you rang…let me get those things off you. The bastard—if only I’d never left you alone.”
“No!” I gasped, snatching my bound hands beyond his reach. “Leave them as they are. I want the police to see exactly what he did. Keep away, Jon, please! At least until they get here. You mustn’t contaminate anything.” I couldn’t help sobbing and brought my injured hands up to cover my face, blocking out the look of shock on his face. It was only seconds later, amidst my distress, I heard a distant ringing and lifted my head, my eyes ringed with tears. Was it all over?
***
The next few hours were blurry except for a few clear moments. The police and ambulance arrived, and the officers took in the scene. My wrists and ankle were released, and a female officer wrapped a large warm blanket round me, but I still couldn’t stop shaking from cold and shock. Jon hovered near the doorway, pacing up and down outside, unable to keep his eyes from my face. I recalled what Martyn had said about Darcy, and in panic, I made him ring home and check she was okay. Once he confirmed that she was with Mum, I closed my eyes in relief. Thank God Martyn hadn’t killed her. I understood now why she had been so withdrawn and traumatised…but at least she was safe.
I remembered the flash of crime-scene photos, the police taking samples of the blood around the shed floor and walls, my restraints being put into plastic bags and sealed. Martyn’s clothes bundled into a bag. I had no idea if they found mine. I pointed to Martyn’s bicycle and as coherently as possible told them to look at the pedals. I was taken by ambulance to hospital, accompanied by a female police officer. Jon followed in his car, after finishing his statement for the police. I heard him arguing and the officer in charge assuring him he could leave to be with me as soon as they were satisfied with his own explanation.
Things became more blurry once I arrived at the hospital; I was exhausted an
d wanted to curl up into a ball and go to sleep. Except I knew that if I slept, I would be plagued by nightmares, as it wasn’t quite all over. It was time for questioning and an examination by a female doctor, accompanied by a nurse. My shoulder wound needed cleansing and suturing, and the doctor insisted my nose and cheek be x-rayed in case either was broken. They also took blood and urine samples to ascertain what drugs Martyn had used on me.
“I have to ask this,” the doctor said in a soft but firm voice. She sat down on the side of my bed and made eye contact. Her face registered concern and compassion. “Were you sexually assaulted?
“No.”
“Good. Even so I still have to examine you. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal, and I have to make certain. Are you all right with that?” she asked.
I knew she meant I might be blocking certain horrific things out. After what I had been through, I thought an examination to be a minor detail. “It’s fine.”
“We’ll need to keep you here for at least a night, too, to make sure you’re okay. There is a small chance of delayed shock or a latent effect from any drugs he might have used on you.”
Later, when they had put me in a private room, Jon appeared in the doorway, a small case in his hand and a hesitant frown on his brow.
“You okay, babe?” he asked softly.
“I don’t know.” The tears I had been holding back welled and spilt over my cheeks. “I…I’ve never killed anyone before. But I’m alive, and that’s what counts. Alive and definitely not raped.”
There. I said it. I uttered those foul words to dispel any fear Jon must have been harbouring.
Jon smiled. “Yeah, the doctor told me. I did believe you the first time, you know.” He put his arm round me and gently pulled me into the safety and comfort of his embrace. “You did what you had to do, and I’m only sorry I couldn’t have done it for you. My God, Moya, you took a chance. What on earth were you thinking? But you must be stronger than you look. It must have taken an enormous amount of strength to do what you did. I think the police are staggered, too.”
Behind A Twisted Smile (Dark Minds Book 2) Page 20
