The Devil To Pay (Hennessey.)

by Marnie Perry

  His words froze her blood but she didn’t back down instead she turned her head to meet his gaze defiantly and said bluntly, ‘why?’

  He stood up straight and frowned, ‘why what?’

  ‘Why the medical ministrations, why the concern for whether I’m hungry or not?’

  ‘I told you I don’t want you to pass out as you almost did earlier, and that lip could become infected.’

  Her sudden laughter bordered on hysterical, ‘again why? I know you’re going to kill me, does it matter whether my lip is infected or whether or not I die on an empty stomach?’ Her voice lost its hardness and became low and resigned, ‘just get it over with.’

  He looked down at her bent head for a moment or two before saying, ‘not yet. First I’ll get you something to eat.’

  ‘I’ve told you I don’t want any food, I’m not hungry.’

  He said almost teasingly, ‘I have chocolate.’

  Her head came up and she shot him a look of loathing, ‘I would choke on it. But then maybe that would save you some trouble, maybe even ease your conscience, if you have one, since then you wouldn’t have to do the deed yourself.’

  He looked at her for a moment before saying, ‘all right, suit yourself. I was only thinking of you keeping up your strength for further discussion.’ There was something vaguely menacing in the way he’d said that.

  She shook her head as though impatient, ‘I’ve already told you all I know, I’ve given you the name in the passport and I have no idea where she went when she arrived in France. Whether you believe it or not that’s the truth.’

  He said nothing but bent down again and pressed the cotton wool gently to her lip and this time she did not turn away. He finished what he was doing then threw the cotton ball into the fireplace. He looked down at her again before taking his seat opposite her then said, ‘I do believe you.’

  Her head snapped up, ‘then why…

  He held up his hand, ‘I believe you don’t know where she went, as for the name,’ he shrugged as if that was still in debate before continuing, ‘but I think you know more than you’re saying,’ again she opened her mouth but he rushed on, ‘maybe you don’t know you know and need a little more time to think about it, a few hours, a few days even.’

  She paled but said firmly, ‘I don’t know anything else; I told you I insisted she tell me nothing of her plans.’

  ‘I know you did, but you spent several days with her and she confided in you, and as I said sometimes things don’t always come to us immediately.’ He leaned forward and his expression changed to one of malevolence as he said, ‘and this time, Miss. Faraday don’t even attempt to lie or to hide anything from me. I’ve given you all the chances I’m going to, if I even suspect you’re trying to deceive me you really, really won’t like what happens next.’

  CHAPTER 31.

  Adela tried very hard not to appear intimidated but it was very hard when he looked at her like that. It was easy to say she didn’t care what he did to her, but of course she did.

  She had forced herself to come to terms with her impending death, she couldn’t do anything about it anyway, she was trapped, trapped and helpless. But it was when she contemplated what else he might do to her before he killed her that the terror took over. She had been half out of her mind with fear when he had threatened her with the stun gun but she knew he would have other ways, much more painful ways, of extracting information from her, she shuddered at the image those thoughts provoked.

  But even so she stared back refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fall to pieces in front of him, he had humiliated her enough. Strangely enough it was the thought of how easy she had succumbed to him, to his charms, to his softly spoken words of praise, to his flattery, to his seduction, rather than anything that had happened here that was at the core of her shame.

  In reply to his statement she replied, ‘I honestly can’t tell you any more than I already have.

  When he said nothing just continued to look at her with that intense flint like stare she said, ‘the longer you keep me here the more chance there is of the police or the FBI finding us. They’ll know by now that you kidnapped me.’

  He shrugged again, ‘the police may be looking for us, but not because they think you’ve been kidnapped. And they’ll believe we left the south, the country even.’

  She looked baffled, ‘why wouldn’t they think I’ve been kidnapped?'

  He smiled, ‘they’ll think you’re with me willingly, that you came to me willingly, that you helped me incapacitate that stupid cop and helped me escape justice.

  This was what she had sensed from Sullivan and Leyton, that she might be so infatuated with him that she would assist him in his escape. At least from the latter initially, but at her cabin she had sensed that he was warming to her, that he liked her even. Besides, she had given him the raincoat in which he had shown such great interest, he would know she had nothing to do with Blakemore’s murder; she hadn’t even been in the country then. She said, ‘why would they think that?’

  ‘Because I made it look that way. I brought your purse with your phone, credit cards, passport and travel documents, plus all the money you had with you. By now they’ve probably found the receipt I left hidden in plain sight for the cash you withdrew, they’ll discover that you never put it back in the bank so it follows you must have it with you. I also bought a plane ticket in your name.’ He tipped his head to one side, ‘you ever been to Brazil?’

  He watched her face change from sceptical to amazed to worried so he pressed home his advantage, ‘and just to be sure, I left something of yours next to the unconscious cop.

  She stared at him what colour she had draining from her face, ‘what, what did you leave?’

  He reached across to the table and picked up the black bag he had put there. He took out her purse and emptied it on the table, ‘notice anything missing?’

  She frowned then realisation dawned, one of the two combs she had been wearing that day, the ones she'd been wearing when Leyton called, was missing. He waited for her to say something, when she didn’t just looked at him with loathing he smiled and put the contents back in the purse and threw it on the table.

  He said, ‘I also tidied up the cabin; no one will be able to tell there had ever been a fight there. I also brought some of your clothes. As I said it will just look as though you’ve become so enamoured of me that you decided to run away with me.’ For a moment his face lost that hard look and he smiled, ‘and they’d be right of course, about the enamoured bit anyway.’

  His complacent and smugness angered her and she replied bluntly, ‘everyone is entitled to at least one huge mistake in their lives.’

  He smiled again, ‘that’s true. But I have a motto, if you’re going to make a huge mistake make sure it’s your last.’

  Her blood ran cold at the double meaning in his words but her anger again took over and she blurted out, ‘Detective Leyton won’t believe that I’ve helped you to escape, that I’ve run off with you. He knows about you now.’

  He leaned back in his seat never taking his eyes from hers, ‘oh does he? And what exactly does the good detective know about me?’

  She instantly regretted her hasty words and did not reply to his question. ‘Well?’ He commanded.

  It was one simple word but it held a wealth of menace. She swallowed and decided she had nothing to lose now by telling him what Leyton knew and what she had discovered.

  She said, ‘he knows about your alter ego’s, Cross, Brannigan,’ she paused and looked at him pointedly, ‘Blakemore.’

  Only a swift blink of his eyes and a barely perceptible tightening of his jaw betrayed his shock. He knew they would check out the places he had used credit cards in those names. He wasn’t concerned, he had passports in lots of other names; he would just choose one to get out of the country, but Blakemore, that was something else, something he had not expected. It stunned him he had to admit. But when he spoke his tone was unconcerned almost
dismissive, ‘so they know about Blakemore do they? Well it was only a matter of time before my luck ran out, or they had someone with brains in the police department. Still, when we’ve concluded our business here I’ll be on my way to a new life with a new identity. I might even dye my hair blonde to blend in with the Scandinavians as you suggested.’

  She picked up on his first question, ‘what do you mean, they know about Blakemore?’

  Hennessey regarded her speculatively then shrugged, ‘that I had something to do with his death.’

  Deep down she knew that Hennessey had killed Blakemore from the moment she had found out Hennessey was Olivia’s black eyed killer. No, even before that, when Leyton had looked so stunned and excited when she had shown him the raincoat then lied about its importance. She just hadn't wanted to admit it herself.

  She swallowed very hard, ‘by something to do with his death, you mean you killed him don’t you.’ It wasn’t a question so he didn’t answer. ‘You don’t deny it.’

  He shrugged, ‘not much point really. They probably know about his partner by now too.’

  ‘His…his Partner?’

  ‘Yeah, he had a partner name of Jeffrey Stanton; my client got two for the price of one on that assignment.’

  Adela was aghast, ‘assignment? That’s what killing people is to you, an assignment? Like you’re a cop or an FBI agent or something instead of a cold blooded killer.’

  He smiled at her amazement, ‘you’re right about the killer part of course, but I never thought of myself as cold blooded.’

  ‘Well you are. Cold blooded and heartless. You must be to do what you do. You’re a mass murderer.’

  He stared at her and the hardness came back to replace the amusement. He didn’t like being thought of as cold blooded, or even as a murderer. In his view killing low life drug dealers and crime lords was not murder but retribution. But on the other hand he admired her stand. Since she had come back from the bathroom he had seen the change in her, she had accepted her death as a certainty now but she would not go without a fight.

  She looked exhausted as well she might, she must not have slept for more than twenty four hours, he knew how she felt. And she was hungry and in pain and frightened, but she kept having a go at him, kept up her distaste and repugnance for him. She kept fighting him, and while he admired that he couldn’t let her get the upper hand, he needed information, information he knew she had about Desi and if he had to terrify it out of her he would. He was about to warn her again not to anger him when she asked bluntly, ‘did you kill your uncle?’

  His eyes widened, there she went again taking him by surprise, no one had been able to do that for a long time, no one except her, right from the start she had had the ability to disconcert him. He said ‘you’re very perceptive.’

  ‘Not really, or I wouldn’t be here now would I? As soon as I discovered what you are some of the things you said, how you said them and how you looked when you said them starting making sense. I just wish I had been more perceptive, a little less trusting of you and more of my own instincts. But then we’re all wise after the fact aren’t we?’

  He smiled, ‘that’s true. And you’re right I did kill him, he was the third person I ever killed. And before you ask, no, I don’t regret that any more than I regret those I killed before or after.’

  ‘I never intended to ask, I see that you have no conscience, no heart, no humanity whatsoever, as I said, dead inside.’

  Again his eyes darkened but again before he could speak she said, ‘the first two you killed were Carson’s attackers weren’t they.’

  It was not a question but he answered, ‘someone had too and Carson was in no fit state.’

  ‘For the first time I agree with you.’ He raised his eyebrows in amazement but she added, ‘someone had to do it, yes, but not you, that’s what the justice system is for, to prevent people taking the law into their own hands, to stop vigilantes like you.’

  He curled his lip in disdain, ‘the justice system? The justice system is not for people like me, Miss. Faraday, red neck trailer trash, people who either live on the edge of crime or right in the thick of it get what they ask for, the local law as good as said so. So I did their job for them. I found Carson’s attackers; accused them, judged them, found them guilty and executed them.’

  ‘And your uncle, they wouldn’t do anything about him either, wouldn’t help you to get away from him, is that why you once again took the law into your own hands. Or did you lie about that too. Maybe you just didn’t like living with him and decided to dispatch him?’

  He tipped his head to one side as if thinking about that then shrugged, ‘I didn’t like him, no, but he got what he deserved too.’

  She sighed, ‘I understand your feelings for your friend, your loyalty and devotion towards him and your anger at what had happened to him and your feeling towards your cruel uncle, but if we all took the law into our own hands where would we be. You can’t live by your own rules, that’s the law of the jungle and has no place in civilised society.’

  He stared at her in astonishment then burst out laughing but as swiftly as it had erupted it stopped as she said, ‘you’re like a wild animal let loose in the world, a savage barbarian and you need to be locked up for your sake as well as everyone else's.'

  He lunged forward so suddenly that she jerked back in fear but he kept advancing until she could feel his breath on her face. His voice was low but threatening, ‘when the same thing happens to a buddy of yours, your oldest and closet friend, your childhood friend, then you can judge me, Miss. Faraday, until then it’d pay you to keep your opinions TO YOURSELF.’

  She winced as he yelled the words right in her face and almost tipped the chair over. She struggled to keep her balance not wanting to end up in that vulnerable and painful position on the floor again.

  He continued to stare into her frightened eyes for a while longer then as quickly as he had lurched forward he moved back.

  She took a deep breath as did he which seemed to calm him. She sensed he was embarrassed by his outburst because he said quite gently, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.’ He sighed, ‘maybe I was angry because I know you’re right. But right or wrong what’s done is done, I can’t change it or myself, and wouldn’t if I could.’

  She tried to quieten the thudding of her heart by taking silent deep breaths. He still had the power to confuse and bewilder her with his swift change of moods. Maybe that was the idea, he wanted her disconcerted, wary and on edge. She saw now in his face that which Angela Carter and the trucker in the diner had seen, the malevolence, the well concealed rage.

  He wore the cloak of amiability and charm but beneath it was anything but, underneath there was concealed menace and violence, he exuded it, radiated it. But she knew she had turned the tables on him somewhat and that he was as disconcerted by her as she was by him.

  He said, ‘if it’s any consolation I never lied about my uncle, he was all the things I said he was and more, oh so much more. My mother and I lived with him and his wife and kids.’

  Her head shot up, ‘you said your mother died when you were seven.’

  ‘As far as I was concerned she died the day we left Crystal Springs and went to live with her brother- in -law near Baton Rouge.’

  Adela frowned in confusion, not Hattiesburg or Lafayette then as he had said. He said, ‘she was a good woman before we went to live with him, a decent, kindly, Christian woman until he turned her into a whore.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Adela said softly.

  He smiled, ‘oh I think you do, I think you understand better than most people what it’s like to live with someone you want to respect but don’t, want to love but can’t.

  Someone who should protect and care for you but instead turns a deaf ear to your pain and suffering because they’ve found comfort elsewhere. In your case it was the bottle that was your enemy, in mine it was sex.’

  ‘Your mother and your uncle had an affair?’

&n
bsp; He laughed out loud, ‘an affair? An affair would necessitate some kind of emotional feeling, a mutual fondness; this was just sex, just lust, primal, animal lust. He took one look at her and wanted her; it took her less than a month to give in to him.’

  ‘But what about your aunt?’

  For the first time since he’d started speaking about his mother and uncle his features softened, ‘my aunt? My aunt was a good, kind, loving woman. When he did what he did to me she tried to intervene, but she was under his thumb, she had to obey him, that was the rule in that house, obedience and subservience. He just beat her into submission, he beat us all except my mother.’

  ‘Maybe your mother was afraid of him too; maybe she had to go along with him to protect herself, to protect you.’

  He gave her a patronising look, ‘you’re very naïve, Miss. Faraday, that’s what I believed, at first, I thought that she had to do what she did with him to prevent him beating me, but I was seven years old not twenty eight and should know better.’

  Despite herself she blushed at the rebuke. She realised now why he had been so angry with Angela Carter that day in the gazebo, because she was acting like a whore, like his mother had done. She said gently, ‘I’m so sorry.’

  He looked taken aback for a moment before shrugging, ‘anyway, he beat me once too often, he still thought I was a kid, he forgot that boys grow into men, or maybe he didn’t care. He thought he was all powerful, that I would continue to be under his thumb, under his control for the rest of my life, but he was wrong wasn’t he. He was about to beat my aunt…again. I intervened and he hit me then tried to force me into the punishment box.’

  She didn’t want to interrupt this flow of information but couldn’t stop herself, ‘punishment box?’

  He looked at her and she could tell he was trying to decide whether to continue or not then he shrugged as if it didn’t matter whether she knew or not. 'The punishment box was a small chest with chains attached to it that could be locked once the "sinner" was inside, it was kept in the barn with the animals. I spent a lot of time in that box as a kid, naked, deprived of food and water and not once did my mother come to let me out, or even to talk to me except to ask me if I was sorry that I had sinned against my uncle and was I repentant yet? The shortest time I spent in the box was three days the longest five.'