by J. A. Kerr
His mind came back to his original thought. How long did he intend to hold Anna? He couldn’t answer that at present. The police might interview him over her disappearance or in connection to the abduction case so getting to and from the garage might be problematic. He had enough rations to keep Anna going for a couple of weeks. The room where he’d left her had a tap. She might get hungry but in time he would allow her access to water. He packed the supplies in the van and headed back to his captive. He would need to keep her drugged but not unconscious, and he wondered what she was like. A lawyer by profession, she would be smart. Intelligence was a quality he admired. He was looking forward to spending time with Anna Dunbar. He stopped the van, hopped out and opened up. Ten minutes later he had carried most of the provisions down to the cellar.
He’d ruled out tins. The self-opening can lids were sharp and could be used as a weapon. Nick had experience of how easy it was to make the most innocent of objects into something deadly. He opted for cereal bars, soups and beans in plastic tubs. He picked up bread and toilet paper. He had several packet pastas, a tube of cheese and crackers. He listened outside the door for any signs of movement and realised this was ridiculous. Anna was still secured to the chair. He opened the door and stepped inside. The smell was bad and at first sight she was so pale he thought she was dead. Touching her skin revealed she was ice cold. Moving quickly, he plugged in the small electric heater and turned it on. He’d have to adapt it. The cord could be used to get up to mischief but for the moment, with Anna unconscious, it was safe. He piled the supplies on the bed which he’d secured to the floor. His prison time had taught him how to prepare the perfect cell. The small area was warming up.
Next, Nick pulled out a knife and slit the restraints around Anna’s hands and feet. She didn’t stir and he wondered how long she’d be out. He glanced at his watch. He’d given her a much lighter sedative this time rather than the Propofol. She had been out for over two hours now and showed no signs of coming round. He wanted to get back to his hotel, take a long hot shower and fall into his bed. But he couldn’t until he’d sorted Anna out. He didn’t remove the tape from her eyes. Hiding his identity was his number one priority. He had to balance her drugged state. He needed to access the room without her being a threat to him. The reality was trickier than expected. The last thing he brought in was the rope. That was the key to her submission.
There was a reason dangerous dogs were chained up. With the rope Anna could move around but couldn’t reach him at this end of the room—simple but effective. He ripped the tape away from her mouth and heard her moan, the timing couldn’t have been better.
Chapter 39
The Braille Club Reborn
Anna
Anna awoke but still could not open her eyes, something stopped her lids opening. There wasn’t a chink of light anywhere and panic swept her. She moved and the smell of urine overpowered her; she grimaced at the wetness beneath her. Nausea made her gag. She gulped down air realising the obstruction around her mouth had been removed. Her body was numb from cold. Her thirst and confusion were worse than ever. What had happened earlier? she thought desperately. Anna was aware she had been unconscious again. This was her first coherent thought. As her senses kicked in she became aware of her surroundings. The smell had changed, no longer the stink of oil but of dampness. The moisture in the air seemed to coat her body. She shivered. She felt sure she had been moved. Why? Terror tore at her insides. She suddenly remembered the strange noise and sensed she was not alone. Her body went rigid with fear but her thirst was unbearable: self-preservation won out.
“Water,” she croaked through dry and parched lips. She could barely move and her voice was little more than a whisper.
“I’ll give you some in a minute.”
Anna recoiled from the strange metallic voice. Heart beating wildly, her earlier confusion disappeared. She moved involuntarily, trying to get away from her captor. Her limbs were heavy and uncoordinated but when she moved her hands, to her surprise, she found they were no longer restrained. She heard movement beside her and froze. The scent again. The metallic voice next to her ear made her jump in fright. Her mind was racing. She had to escape. She tried to make her uncooperative body do something but his voice chilled her to the bones.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” the strange metallic voice said. “I have a towel, soap and clean clothes. I’ve untied your hands and feet so you can clean yourself up. I will take the tape off your eyes.”
Anna felt something loop around her neck and pull. She gasped as the rough heavy weight dug into her skin.
“The rope is to stop you doing anything stupid. I want you to change. If you try to do anything, and I mean anything, other than change, I’ll pull the rope. Be good and do as you’re told and I won’t.”
He tugged on the rope to demonstrate and Anna gasped as it bit into her neck again. Her weak groan was barely audible. She moved her hands and they fell onto her lap. She realised she was still in the strange chair although a different place. Where was she? Her mind was demanding answers as the fog cleared. Her fighting spirit returned with an angry flash. Anger was good. Her legs, now released, didn’t move at first. Then as Anna’s anger increased they did. Sluggishly at first but, gradually, her circulation returned.
“Water,” she said again. Anna knew the body could not survive without it. If she was to have any chance of survival or escape, she had to have water.
She heard the person move away. Her instincts told her it was the same man but her mind was conjuring up a robot to match the metallic voice. A bottle of water was placed in her hand. She gripped it tightly and battled with herself not to cry. Her fingers felt for the rim and she was relieved to find it had a sports cap, she drank greedily until the bottle was snatched from her grip.
“Hey,” she moaned.
“Get cleaned up, then you’ll get more water,” said the strange metallic voice. “Remember what I said. Don’t make me pull the rope.”
“Okay,” she croaked, still thirsty but more lucid. She desperately wanted to get out of her wet clothes but her body was stiff and cold. Anna yelped in pain. She thought he’d ripped her eyelids off as he removed the tape. The delicate skin throbbed and her eyes stung but at last she could open her eyes.
The room was dim but blinded by a dazzling torch shone directly at her; she closed her eyes again quickly. The brightness dimmed and she opened her eyes, more slowly this time to let them adjust. She glanced down at herself and saw she was sitting in a wheelchair. Dazed, she tried to recall earlier events but could not. Frantically, her gaze swept the room. A camp bed and sleeping bag in one corner, a dressing gown lay on the bed and she swallowed. She could see an object in the other corner but wasn’t sure what it was. She turned her head and saw the sink and screen behind her, similar to those in medical practices. She knew he was behind it. The smell reminded her she needed to move, get changed out of her wet underwear and skirt. Her stomach rolled. Was he going to watch? Slowly, she tried to focus and make her limbs respond. She rubbed her hands along her thighs. The action helped with the numbness but Anna’s head was all over the place as was her co-ordination.
“Hurry up,” said the metallic voice. She could hear both annoyance and impatience in the tone.
Anna’s agitation increased. In her confusion and terror, she tried to place her feet on the floor but her legs were like rubber. She reached down and, with her hand shaking, grabbed her ankle. Gritting her teeth, she leant forward and moved her foot. Anna screamed as her body tipped headlong towards the floor. Seconds later she tumbled from the chair, smashing her head on the ground.
Chapter 40
The Braille Club Reborn
Nick
Nick pulled the rope without thinking. Tugged it back angrily because he thought she was trying to escape. However, the weight on her body was no match for his damaged hand. His hands stung where the rope had burned through them. It had all happened in seconds.
&n
bsp; “Fuck,” Nick screamed. Conscious she could identify him, he pulled on the face mask he’d brought with him and cautiously approached her. One minute she was upright and the next she was lying motionless on the floor, her faced turned away from him. Her body lay in front of the chair. He realised now she had fallen out of the chair. His heart hammered, this could not be happening, he thought. He ran his fingers through his hair as panic gripped him. She didn’t look good; her body at an awkward angle.
“Shit,” he muttered, staring at Anna. Yet again an unexpected twist beyond his control. Nick began to shake. He’d been running on pure adrenaline for days; burying the sleeping twins hadn’t been easy. His conscious had blocked out the effects because his reward was crushing Siena. It was the ultimate revenge. If he couldn’t have her then no one could. It was what she deserved. He pictured her coming to him, desperate to do anything to save her children. However, that was no longer a reality. He’d lost his bargaining chip. She was lost to him now. Rage and bitterness filled him. He’d choked Siena and loved the power. In fact, it turned him on. But this, this was different. This was a disaster. He knew he should check Anna’s pulse, there was the possibility her neck was broken but he couldn’t bear to go near her. The smell was awful and he needed to get out. He needed to think. Opening the door, he slipped out and locked it again with shaking fingers. He hated when his plans went wrong and recently it had been one fuck up after another. It didn’t seem to matter what he did, things still went wrong. He pulled the mask off and threw it down. He placed the voice distorter he’d been using beside the other stuff.
It was time for Plan B. He had considered the possibility of killing Anna Dunbar but he’d wanted to have fun before he did. Like the abduction, he’d been robbed of all pleasure. This was now a clean-up operation. The police were powerless without a body. Without this conclusive evidence, a person could simply be missing. He had no plans to dispose of Anna’s body. His plans for Anna were quite simple but he couldn’t face moving her tonight. He was bone-tired. His hands hurt from the rope burns; he’d removed the shredded plastic gloves and he worried his prints might be on the rope. However, all he could think about was getting back to the hotel, showering off tonight’s grime and getting into bed. Nick would make the arrangements tomorrow when he was more clear-headed.
His earlier preparations were fruitless now. However, it wasn’t entirely a wasted evening. Guy Walker would be insane with worry. That made Nick smile. The bastard had brought it on himself. No one fucked with Nick Waters and got away with it. His hands stung fiercely and Nick knew he’d need ointment to sooth the burns. He wearily opened the garage door, reversed the van out and locked up. He drove back to his hire car. Getting into the back seat, he removed his hoodie and protective suit and thrust them into a bag. He would need them again. With the change of plan, it was essential not to leave DNA anywhere. He pushed thoughts of Anna and the problem of disposing of her body away.
Exhausted, he parked the hire car in the hotel car park. Still in the hotel uniform, he slipped inside and climbed the stairs. Two minutes later he was in his room. He pulled off the uniform and stepped into the hot, cleansing shower. The damp air in the garage had penetrated deep inside his bones. It took at least ten minutes under the shower before he warmed up. Tonight’s adventures had been unexpected. His adrenaline rush of earlier had left him. He’d achieved his objective—hurting Guy Walker. He’d made his mind up about that at least. Anna Dunbar, like Siena’s twins, were the collateral damage. She had outlived her usefulness to him. Nick crawled beneath the covers, his eyes heavy. He wondered when the police would be back at his door. Guy Walker was sure to implicate him. However, he would never find Anna…she was gone but, Nick vehemently hoped for Guy Walker, not forgotten. He would carry the guilt of her disappearance forever. Nick drifted away with a smile on his face.
Chapter 41
The Braille Club Reborn
Benedict
Benedict felt bereft when Guy left. He’d come to depend on him over the last few days. His unwavering support and keen intelligence was the backbone of everything they had achieved so far in their own investigation. Benedict owed him so much. If it wasn’t for Guy’s contacts they would be in the dark. Okay, it wasn’t the information either of them was hoping for but together they must prove Katie Burns was set up. Katie’s admission the jacket recovered from Siena’s car was hers made no sense. Why would she implicate herself? Could she explain why a jacket identical to hers had been caught on CCTV at his home? It was the first of many strange things to emerge from the case. Benedict found himself striving to prove Katie’s innocence, such was his need to convict Waters. Now forensics were saying DNA and fibres recovered at the scene confirmed, without doubt, it was Katie’s. The thing was, Benedict and Guy had heard the interview tapes and he was inclined to believe Katie’s protestations; there was a ring of truth to them. He also trusted his gut. His gut was telling him something was wrong now.
Benedict felt sure she was involved but didn’t believe for one second she had done it without Waters. If it hadn’t been for Siena’s conviction that Nick Waters had been in their home, he might have wavered, but his wife was adamant. She believed it was Nick and that he had manipulated Katie into doing what he wanted. Another thing, their neighbour, David, had mentioned he thought Lizzie’s cat had been dead for some time. When he discovered her unconscious on the floor, the cat was found beside her. He told Benedict there were advanced signs of rigor mortis in the animal. The police were performing a post-mortem to establish the cause of death. So many parts of the puzzle did not fit together.
Something Evan had said earlier about observation suddenly made perfect sense. It was a fact finding operation to establish routines and habits. It established potential weaknesses or strengths. Nick Waters had watched his home until he found that weakness—Lizzie’s cat Tilly. Benedict realised how easily it was if your home was under surveillance—Nick Waters had proved it. Benedict brooded. He wondered if the cat had been used as a diversion, as a way into his home. Evan’s thoughts and experience would be vital to Benedict’s own investigation. Guy had met with Evan and updated Benedict about what he could expect. Evan confirmed they would see results to either prove or disprove Waters’ involvement over the next few days and weeks, depending on how long Benedict wanted the surveillance. Guy wasn’t happy when Evan mentioned he would be out of the country for a few days. However, his assurance his teams would be in constant contact made Benedict feel better.
He glanced at his watch and noted he still had an hour before his meeting with Evan. He was eager to get the facts of the case across. Benedict took a pad and pen and began with the timeline and information from the whiteboard. Slowly, he went through the events of that night. It was painful, the memories hard for him. His hand shook and he had to stop for a minute to let himself calm down. He was letting emotion get in the way. With a harder resolve he picked the pen up and continued. How had Nick Waters done it? Had he hypnotised Katie into being his unsuspecting accomplish or had she done it off her own back? Benedict worked from the time the taxi driver stated he’d dropped Nick Waters at Katie Burn’s flat. The time frame was tight but, from what he’d worked out, Nick Waters could have pulled it off. He had the motive…and, as far as Benedict could now work out, the opportunity.
His agitation increased. That bastard had engineered everything and if Waters thought he would get away with it he was deluded. Benedict was on to him. With Evan Radley’s help, he was sure they’d get the evidence to prove it. He glanced at his watch and to his annoyance realised Evan Radley was late. It had been a long day. Benedict was pacing around the conference room. He could feel the tension in his body. He stopped in front of the whiteboard and stared at it. Where the hell was Evan Radley? he thought impatiently, his frustration getting the better of him. Just as he lifted his mobile, he heard a knock on the door. He jumped up and was relieved to let Evan in.
“I’m sorry for the delay. I’m afraid I had to ta
ke an urgent call,” said Evan, taking a seat at the conference table. Benedict studied him and liked what he saw.
“Evan, thank you for agreeing to meet at such short notice,” he began.
“I understand,” said Evan. “Work like this does not follow business hours. My staff have finished their assessment and all necessary arrangements have been made. They will be in place by early morning in the room next door to Nick Waters and the hotel is on board. Guy has told me the background to the case. We should see results fairly quickly.”
“There have been developments,” said Benedict. He saw Evan’s look of concern. “I wanted to tell you face to face. Following your suggestion, my home might have been under surveillance, I can confirm you were right.”
“I thought so,” said Evan. “From what Guy told me about the case, it sounded planned and not a random act. Often when children go missing they are outdoors or playing with friends: snatched when their parents are distracted or not around. It is unusual for children to be snatched from their home. It suggests the abductor knew your routines, for example. How would he know you and your wife were out and the twins were at home with their babysitter?”
Benedict’s pulse raced as Evan talked. He was making complete sense. “There have been other developments from the police,” he said and let out a harsh breath. “Prints and DNA belonging to Katie Burns has been recovered at both my home and the burial site.”
“Fingerprints?”
“Yes, fingerprints and footprints, but there are inconsistencies.”
“Such as?”
“Katie’s fingerprints are on the hire car keys but not in the house. Her hair was found in the twins’ bedroom and Siena’s car, along with her jacket, but no fingerprints. The car was clean.”
