The Devil To Pay (Hennessey.)

by Marnie Perry

  He frowned and hesitated, he wanted to comply with her request, but knew that would make him appear weak and indecisive and that’s the last thing he wanted her to think he was. His hesitation made him angry and caused his tone to be more curt than he had intended, ‘no,’ He turned again but turned back as she said accusingly, ‘there’s no need to keep me bound like this, I can’t go anywhere. You’re just being malicious and cruel.’

  His back to her he turned his head slowly, ‘let’s just call it the whim of a tyrant.’

  Her eyes widened and she stared back at him her expression angry but added to that was contempt and loathing. He stood a moment looking down at her, then walked down the room, picked up the lamp and went out the door closing it behind him leaving her in the dark.

  ********

  Hennessey lay on the makeshift bed, the one he had put clean bed linen on…for her.

  He was tired but sleep would not come to him. All he could think about was her in that darkened room, hungry, uncomfortable and frightened. If he was tired she must be doubly so after everything she had endured today, and he had added to that by informing her that she would be in there for at least four hours. He knew of course that she wouldn’t rest, her mind would be too active and she too afraid.

  He knew he had behaved like a complete and utter bastard to her, especially when he had refused to untie her hands in the bathroom, she had been embarrassed and he had been ashamed of himself. And he had almost folded when she had become faint in the bedroom, only squeezing his fists so tight he had made his palms bleed had he prevented himself from untying her, holding her close to him and begging her to tell him what he wanted to know so that he could end this. And he had hated threatening her with the stun gun; he knew he wouldn’t have used it even if she had not given him that fake name. He had to admit she had almost fooled him with that one and he had pretended to believe her as an excuse not to hurt her.

  Recalling this he thought about the huge bruise on her hip that she had received when he had pushed her to the ground at her cabin. He despised himself for all he had put her through, for all he had had to put her through.

  This is what he had come to, this is what Glissando and his five million dollars had driven him too. No, not Glissando, he had just been the key and the five million dollars the vehicle, but he was the driver, everything that had happened since had been by his own instigation and his own deeds. He tried to justify to himself that his intentions were not wholly self serving or nefarious, but his conscience refused to be placated.

  It was unfortunate that she had given that raincoat to Leyton and that Desi had told her about him, if that had not happened things would have been a lot easier, for her anyway.

  He turned onto his side impatient with himself. It wasn’t hard to guess what she would be thinking, about him of course and what he had said, mainly his last words to her, words she had used to describe his uncle. He recalled the way she had looked when she had said it, the compassion in her eyes and her voice so soft and sincere.

  He should be happy that she was frightened, that was after all what he had wanted wasn’t it? What he had said about Glissando had horrified her that was clear. Glissando’s phone call could not have come at a more convenient time, it was just the incentive he had needed to coerce her, or rather frighten her might be a more appropriate word, into complying with his demands. That was why he had pulled her hair to get her to speak to Glissando; he had had to prove to him that he was serious about the task he had given him.

  He should be sleeping like a baby confident that his threats had done the trick. But he could not rid himself of the image of her wide terrified eyes when he had informed her of Glissando’s request. Desi must have confided in Adela what Glissando had done to her, about what he was capable of doing, no wonder she had looked as she had. But he hoped that perhaps the thought of what had happened to Desi would make her more compliant, or maybe the reverse was true and she would rather be tortured herself than have the same thing happen to Desi again. Nothing she said or did would surprise him. Nothing. He tried to comfort himself that at least she was safe from Glissando's men, it didn't work.

  He turned onto his back and closed his eyes trying to block out those frightened green eyes but it only enhanced the image.

  ********

  Hennessey was right Adela lay on the filthy stained sleeping bag thinking about what he had said including his last words; he had thrown her words of pity back in her face. She would have preferred he had slapped her.

  She shivered although it was not cold by any means, in fact it was very stuffy and hot in the room, no, her shivers were caused by what he had said about handing her over to Glissando to…to what? Would he take her into that cellar place where Olivia had been imprisoned and punished?

  The shivers increased to a trembling then to shaking until she felt as if she would shake herself apart. She sat back against the wall and tried to take deep breaths, after about ten or so breaths she felt light headed but the shaking had ceased somewhat. She could make out very little only obscure shapes that looked menacing in the darkened room. Her eyes were drawn to the boarded up window hoping to see even a tiny chink of light but there was nothing. If he hadn’t told her what time it was she would not even have known it was day time.

  She thought about that, she knew he had told her the time deliberately to let her know how long she would be confided in here, to realise that her situation was hopeless.

  But she had been more shocked by the time itself, 9.20; she tried to follow the passage of time. She had woken at 2.30 in the morning, and he must have abducted her at say 3.00 clock, that would make it six hours ago. If they had been here in this place for maybe four that would mean they had been travelling to for two hours. No, she couldn’t see that, two hours with her tied up, and even unconscious at first, in the front passenger seat next to him, no, not even he would be so bold as to take such a risk, would he?

  Perhaps they had travelled along quiet, lonely roads, certainly all the time she had been awake the ground had been rough, so perhaps the risk had been minimised by taking country roads. But still two hours, that was an awful long time to be in a vehicle travelling with your kidnap victim.

  But what was the point of thinking about it? What did it matter how long they had been on the road or how long they had been here? She was here and at his mercy, subject to the whims of a tyrant as he had so bluntly and correctly quoted.

  But he had inadvertently given her an opportunity to escape, by leaving her alone she could at least try to put the plastic piece she had broken from the toothbrush to good use. She had been unable to disguise the relief she had felt when she realised he was not going to rape her, but to that relief was added excitement that he would be leaving her alone in her. She had feared he might be suspicious but obviously he had seen only the relief and not the latter.

  She thought she had given him long enough to fall asleep so scrunched down and reached into the back of her jeans glad that she didn’t go for the very tight jeans that showed every bump and curve that most women liked to wear, so there was plenty of room to get her hand down the back. The tricky part was getting her hand in her panties and retrieving the broken toothbrush. She was glad that he had obviously been too tired to brush his teeth; he was very observant and might have noticed that the toothbrush didn’t make a noise when he put it back in the jar.

  Unfortunately with all the moving she had done the piece of plastic had worked its way towards the front of her panties. She raised her bottom from the bed and feeling like a contortionist wriggled her body back and forth hoping it would not go right to the front or else she would never reach it. Finally after much sweating and gritting of teeth her fingers closed over the…she hoped life saving…little piece of plastic. She pulled it up the back of her panties and out the top of her jeans.

  She lay back exhausted with the effort of fishing for the toothbrush but also of not making any noise. Once the plastic was safe in her hand
she reached over to the water bottle and carefully put the straw between her lips. She wanted to drink deeply so thirsty was she after her exertions but recalled what he had said about the bathroom, she felt a fury growing in her at his cruelty.

  She knew of course why he had left her in here, in this filthy bedroom, for time out as he had called it, to reflect on what she knew would be ahead of her if she didn’t cooperate, yes, but also because he had noticed her almost obsessive need for cleanliness. As if that alone would break her, as if she would scream and beg for mercy when faced with a few dust bunnies.. But it was the way his mind worked that angered her, he was doing everything in his power to break her.

  He was a strange man, and not just because he was a hired killer but also because he changed so much. She knew he did it sometimes to disconcert her, but sometimes she sensed a sincere regret in him, and saw a gentleness and pity in his eyes. One minute he was like a snarling, grizzly bear threatening and dangerous, the next like a soppy but watchful guard dog protective and fussing.

  She shrugged off thoughts of him and held the broken toothbrush between her forefinger and thumb and began to work the sharp end back and forth across the tape that bound her hands.

  She had been flexing her fingers and hands at intervals, knowing that they would be sore and stiff when or if she was eventually free of her bonds. But he had not tied the tape as tightly as he had the first time so she had more movement and flexibility. It was her shoulders that hurt the most being thrust back in this unnatural position for more than six hours. But she put the discomfort to the back of her mind, thinking about how much worse the pain could be if she didn’t manage to free herself.

  She hadn’t really thought about a plan of action for when she was free, aside from hiding behind the door and hitting him on the head with something heavy when he came back into the room, hitting him hard, really hard.

  The window was out as a means of escape being boarded up as it was and he would surely hear if she attempted to remove the boards. So she sawed away at the tape while she tried to formulate a plan. She had broken through at least half of the tape by the time she realised that a plan was not forthcoming.

  At this point she had to stop and rest her aching shoulders, plus she had managed to cut her hands with the sharp plastic and could feel a warm, stickiness running down her fingers which added to her task.

  She lay back on the sleeping bag breathing heavily and sweating profusely desperate for more water, but she had promised herself she would drink as a reward when she had cut through all the tape.

  Her biggest fear of course was that he would come back in and check her hands again, bus she didn’t think so somehow, he wanted her to be left alone with her discomfort and terror.

  She sat back up and began cutting again ignoring the pain in her cut hands and her shoulders. If she didn’t manage to free herself she would have more to contend with than cut fingers and aching arms. This thought spurred her on and she worked ferociously until at last she felt the tape begin to give then snap and her wrists were free.

  She didn’t immediately move them to the front of her body but stayed still, watching the door and listening intently for any sound to indicate he might be coming back in. She heard nothing. She then brought her hands very slowly and painfully to her waist dropping the plastic onto the bed. She saw the blood on her fingers and wiped it as best she could on the sleeping bag; this caused pain in her shoulders as well as her hands. She bowed her head and bit her lip as a low moan escaped her, she looked quickly towards the door again but heard nothing.

  She raised both hands slowly to her shoulders and neck and began to massage the circulation back into them, then she rolled her shoulders back and forth and side to side as she had been shown when she attended yoga classes, well, just one yoga class actually, her mother had put a stop to that idea too.

  She could feel the blood on her neck from her hands but ignored it and after a few minutes or so the pain in her neck and shoulders began to ease and the pins and needles in her hands to subside. She then picked up the plastic again, reached down and began to cut the tape around her ankles.

  This was the most dangerous part, if he had come in while she was trying to cut her hands lose at least they would be concealed behind her back and she would just have to hope he wouldn't look, but she could not hide her unbound ankles. She thought of crawling inside the sleeping bag but that would arouse his suspicions as it was so hot in the room.

  No, she would just have to risk it. Once her feet were free she massaged them although they were not anywhere near as numb as the last time he had untied them, nevertheless she wanted to be fast on her feet. She looked at the broken toothbrush in her hand, she did not waste valuable time congratulating herself on her own ingenuity but it crossed her mind that necessity was indeed the mother of invention. Or maybe they should exchange necessity for desperation.

  Never taking her eyes from the door she very slowly stood up ready to lie back down again if he came in the door, what she would do then she had no idea except hope that he would just look in see her lying there and go away again. She had been lucky being able to free herself with the toothbrush and hoped that her luck would last.

  She took a few sips of water then stood up and it was only then she realised that she had no real plan; she had been so taken up with cutting herself loose that she had not thought about what she would do next.

  She racked her brain but the only thing that came to mind was her original idea of hiding behind the door and clobbering him as he came in.

  She looked at the sleeping bag, perhaps she could throw that over him but then what? Take his gun and shoot him with it? She knew she couldn’t do that, partly because she had no idea how to use it. She knew guns had a safety but where it was situated on the weapon she had no idea…again so much for all the crime books she had read, they had not helped her one iota since all of this had begun. But mainly because she knew she would not be able to shoot anyone, no, not even him. Maybe if she hit him hard enough with something he would be knocked out and then she could take the keys to the car and drive away.

  She picked up the water bottle he had left, unfortunately it was plastic so would not be much use as a weapon and she could see nothing else in the room she could use as a weapon, so the idea of hitting him was out. Besides she could be standing waiting for hours and then she might fail and she would be back where she started, except he would be very angry indeed, and she didn’t even want to think about how that anger would manifest itself.

  Clutching the bottle of water tightly in her sweating, trembling hand, she very slowly and cautiously crept across the room towards the bathroom, maybe there was something in there, something she had overlooked before. She hoped and prayed that none of the floorboards creaked or that she wouldn’t bump into anything in the semi-dark. Her heart beat so fast and loud as she walked past the door that led to the living room that she was sure he would be able to hear it.

  Despite her qualms she made it to the bathroom without any boards creaking, knocking anything over or her heart beat giving her away. The door had been left open for which she was grateful, she recalled it had squeaked when he had opened it earlier.

  She entered the darkened bathroom, fortunately there was a little light coming through the stained, cracked window so she could just about make out objects in the room.

  She looked around and saw nothing she could use to incapacitate him, no aerosols she could use to blind him temporarily, nothing to stab him in the leg with, except the other part of the broken toothbrush and she didn’t think that would cause much damage. That left the chair, but again she could be standing here for hours, hours that she could use to better advantage. She was conscience all the time of the door leading to the living room, she expected any moment for it to open and Hennessey to come in and catch her free and walking about.

  She looked more closely at the window, it seemed pretty secure. She put the bottle of water on the toilet cistern stood
on the toilet seat and studied the window as best she could in the dim light. The catch was at the bottom of the window and looked old and worn; she pushed it gently upwards, then with slightly more force until it moved sideways. She pushed at the window until it gave a little creak; she stopped and looked towards the door her hand still on the window her heart pounding fit to burst.

  She waited a full minute before she permitted herself to relax but gave up on the pushing idea, the glass might fall out and he would surely hear it and come running and she would have no time to climb through before he caught her.

  She leaned back and sighed heavily, she was stuck. She had freed herself but had no idea what to do now, there seemed no way out of this predicament.

  As she began to climb from the toilet seat she became suddenly dizzy, obviously with hunger not to mention fear. She snatched at the curtain to steady herself; it tore from some of its hooks but to her relief did not come away. She once more looked at the door but heard no movement from the living room.

  She was about to step down from the toilet when she noticed a small handle sticking out of the side of the window frame. It had been partly hidden by the dingy old curtain and if she had not grabbed it she would have not have noticed the handle in the dark. The handle at the bottom was obviously the lock; this one was the lever to open the window.

  She pushed it upwards, nothing happened and her stomach plummeted. She pushed it down it nothing happened, she pushed up again even harder and this time it gave. Her hands began to tremble as she pushed the window all the way open.

  The question now was would she be able to fit through? It looked small but then so was she, but was she small enough? Well she would soon find out. One foot on the toilet seat the other on the sink she heaved herself upwards then climbed onto the toilet cistern where she paused and looked once more towards the living room wishing she could have closed the bathroom door, she felt so vulnerable standing here, if he came in now he would see her immediately.