Hornet’s Nest
Sitting on a bench in Central Hospital, Alicia was not thinking about Ken, Harry or the killer. She was only thinking about Sam. He was so young, ambitious and hopeful, saving money for his MBA, wanting to be an entrepreneur one day. Just like her, Sam also didn’t have any other sibling. She thought about his father, poor Mr Richards would die if something happened to Sam.
He should not die. If he dies, something bad would happen to the world. People will stop trusting God.
She rubbed her eyes harshly to in an effort to cry. Her head was hurting bad with all the pent-up emotions. She stared absentmindedly to the operation theater where doctors were operating Sam.
“Alicia!” Someone took her name nearby and she raised her head to find Kripke and Harry looking at her.
“What happened?” Harry asked. Alicia looked at her hands which had Sam’s blood on it, and tried to remember what’d happened. What happened that she ended up here with bloody hands? They were going to the coffee shop, and the strap of her bag split, she bent to stop her bag from falling and when she turned her friend had fallen to the ground. He was as surprised as she was. Death, murder; those were just words for both of them until this day.
“You were at the front?” Harry wrote something on his clipboard.
“Yes.”
“Where is your bag?” He asked.
“I don’t know. It was left on the spot.” She looked around and saw the rest of her store mates nearby. Harry asked them whether they saw a laptop bag? None of them replied in affirmation.
“Is it possible that she was the real target?” Harry talked to Kripke.
“It is possible. She is getting too mixed up in this affair.” Kripke looked worried. “But the M.O of the killer is suffocation.”
“The first murder was strangulation which means he doesn’t mind changing his method. He is not a serial killer anyways.” Harry said.
“Where was your boss when this happened?” Kripke asked her.
“He didn’t come to the store today.”
“At which time did he come usually?”
“Around three.” She was replying like a robot without having any interest in the discussion.
Alicia looked through the corridor. Sam’s father was there so as the entire staff at the bookstore. The only person not present was Ken; the one Sam praised the most. She rubbed her throbbing temples with her fingertips.
Harry was doing some quick thinking. “Sam was shot in the pelvic region from long distance which cannot be fatal in my opinion. It can have two meanings: either the killer didn’t mean to kill Sam and only did it to stop him from doing something, or—Sam was not the real target.”
Alicia looked at her with blank mind. Kripke looked curious about his theory.
“It fits in.” Harry emphasized. “Alicia is five-three while Sam is nearly six feet tall. If the shooter was aiming for Alicia’s heart, and Alicia moved at the precise moment, then the guy behind her who was six feet tall would get hit in the abdomen region. A bullet from this distance can only be fatal if it strikes the heart.”
Alicia listened to his analysis for few minutes and then she tuned out. The worst thing was that she could not even cry properly. Since her childhood, every time she cried, Steve laughed at her. As she grew up, she learnt not to cry in front of her parents. By the time she was fully grown up, she had forgotten how to channel out her pain. Almost two hours later, the surgeons came out of the operation theater and Sam was transferred to the ward. His father tried to hide his tears after looking at his unconscious son, wrapped in bandages. Sam was the only family he had. It felt weird now that she never asked Sam about his mother. She set with the old man without speaking a word feeling his grief. Only if he knew Harry’s version of the event, she shrugged thinking about it.
That bullet was for me.
She bit her lips thinking what would happen if she was the one lying there in place of Sam. Steve would have blamed Lucy left, right and center. Lucy would have tried her best to shift the blame on Alicia as if she wanted to get shot and Flora... she would have been the only one feeling hurt to lose her. She held her throbbing head in her hands. Fresh air. I need fresh air. She told Mr Richard to come back in few minutes and strolled out of the hospital.
In darkness of night, the Central Hospital looked over the central park as a warden looked over naughty children. She crossed the street and breezed in. She left her heels on a grass patch, walking bare foot on the damp grass was soothing for her mind. There were few people at this time of the day, most of them were hospital visitors who came here for a change of scenery from the sickly and depressing environment of hospitals. She was tired, but she also didn’t want to go home. Her hands were still bloody so does her clothes and looking at them was not helping her at all. She hated herself for bringing this upon Sam.
Why did she need to investigate the killings? She could have left this alone. It was not her business to go around sniffing the killer. Then another voice in her head emerged; this one was soft and kind. If Rebecca became a victim, then who was safe? It was just a matter of time until the killer would come for her or Sam or someone else working in the bookstore.
She saw a tap on a side of the bushes and went to clean dried blood from her hand. The last thing she remembered was turning the tap and looked around as she smelt some strong chemical like Chlorine.
Then everything went blank.
————
When Alicia opened her eyes, she took a minute to figure out where she was. It was not her bedroom, or any other room of her house, as she was laying on the dusty floor of an icy cold room with tied hands. It was a large room with weather-ridden paint on walls and ceiling. The windows were covered from outside so she was unable to see what time of day it was. She was managed to see all of this due to a flood light blazing near her face. Whoever had brought her here was not kind enough to bring her heels as well. Her first reflex was to get up on her feet and looked around. There was an extremely stinky toilet as well in the corner which she would have never used in any other circumstances. Other than that, there was nothing to look for. The room was cold enough to not lay on it for a longer period of time.
It might be night still. She concluded by the temperature. It could not be that cold during daytime in England, the October had just begun. Her stomach growled in hunger and she remembered eating pancakes some hundred years ago; while, in reality it was only this morning.
She was dreaming longingly about the pancakes leaning with the wall when the door opened and a masked man came in. He was wearing old, worn out jeans with jacket and his face was covered with a Guy Fawkes mask. He had a carton in his hand. He set in front of her and put the carton on the floor.
“I don’t want to kill you.” He told her. Alicia went shocked listening to his voice. It was the same she heard on phone earlier that day.
“Good. I also don’t want to kill you.” She tried to play witty. She had no experienced of getting kidnapped, but what she understood about criminal psychology was that you should avoid being hostile to them.
The masked man laughed, and for a split second Alicia felt that she had heard that laughter somewhere.
“I like your spirit.” He admitted.
“I know who you are. You are that psycho Ken, and your loneliness has gone to your head.”
The man stared at her silently. Getting stared at in an empty building at ungodly hour of night by a man wearing a Guy Fawkes mask was not a pleasant night. Alicia felt goose bumps rising all over her body, but she tried to be brave.
“And that Garret must be another psycho like you. You two must be killing people together, but not anymore. The moment I get out, I will tell the police and they will arrest you, Ken.”
The man left the carton on the floor and turned to leave.
“Open my hands at least. How would I eat?”
The mans stared at her again, but then cut the rope with a knife in his pocket. He whispered in her ear.
“
Don’t try to run. I like you but not that much.” Saying that he left the room, locking the door behind him.
Alicia had played a gamble with the masked man. Either she had tricked him successfully in thinking that she thought he was Ken, or she had axed her chances of survival. The carton he brought had boiled eggs which she munched in fearlessly. If he wanted to kill her, there was no need to bring food. Starvation was the least guilty way to kill a person. She felt drowsy after eating, the effects of chloroform had not worn out yet, but she tried to keep herself awake.
The wooden door was locked form outside, but it was an ordinary door lock that could be picked by burglars. If he had bolted the door as well, then she had no chance to escape, but with the brass lock, she had a little hope. It took her nearly half an hour to open the lock because it was rusty from inside. Carefully, she stepped out with her heart ready to jump in his mouth on every sound. The corridor was pitch dark right out of a horror video game. She went back inside and brought the flood light out. It was an old building, with fire sprinklers leaking water from the ceiling. The corridor ran both ways and she had no idea which way to turn. For all she knew, she could have just bumped head along into the killer. She tried to hear harder if there was anything except water dripping.
Is that a knocking sound?
She concentrated harder; it was definitely someone knocking on a door. She started to walk in the direction of sound praying that it was not psycho-crap-game. The corridor was full of muddy poodles and moss growing at the unlikely places. She didn’t know which patch was worse to place her foot. All the while, she kept looking behind her under the fear of the man responsible for this. Finally, she reached the door which was getting knocked by someone, or worse, something, behind it. She mustered her courage and said loudly.
“Wait, I am opening it.”
The knocking stopped immediately. She put the light near the door and tried to open the lock with another pin, but her hands were shaking this time. In her room, there was no one behind to feel scared of, but out here in the open, she was exposed from behind. She was so jumpy that she looked back at every sound.
After what felt like eternity to Alicia, she managed to open the door. She picked the light in her hand as her only defense and turned the handle. The man who came out of the room was as much amazed as her.
“Thanks. I was not expecting that you would be able to open it.” His green eyes were visible even in the flickering flood light but, Alicia didn’t hear that. She was trying to recognize his face which was hidden under a beard and then she did.
“Garret. You are Garret Michael.”
“You know me.” The man looked at her in surprise. He was in worse condition than she could imagine. His clothes were torn and soiled. He had been captured for a long time, but it had not clouded his mind. “First thing first, we need to get out.”
It took them five to ten minutes to figure out the exit.
“Where are we exactly” She said coming out in the open air. Behind them was an abandoned building which once used for industrial purposes. The plain dreary country side was scattered in front of them drenched in the darkness of night. She shivered a little.
“No idea.” Garret looked around. “I hope it is England.”
Alicia laughed.
“You can laugh in this situation.” Garret looked her in admiration and started walking.
“Who was that man?” Alicia asked walking beside him bare foot.
“No idea, but how do you know me?”
“I saw your picture in the news and called you to get information, and then I got kidnapped on the very same day.”
“I was kidnapped, only god knows when. I had stopped counting days after the first week. What day is today?”
“Its October 5th, I think.” Alicia said looking around. There was still no house or street in sight. The cold and rough ground was hurting her feet.
“God. I was taken in May. Can you believe I lived in this damn building for five months? And what information did you need from me?”
“It was about your brother, Bernard. Do you know anyone who can possibly have a grudge with him?”
“Bernie is dead?” Garret stopped in the track and asked her. Alicia realized her mistake. If Garret was captured since May, there was no way he could know about the death of his brother.
“I am sorry. I didn’t realize you couldn’t know about it.” She bit her lips.
“Its fine. Almost everybody is dead.” He started to walk again but Alicia sensed that this time he was doing it to hide his emotions.
“So you know any such person?” She also resumed her limping behind him.
“Yes I know, and no I cannot tell you. You work for police?” Garret suddenly looked at him suspiciously.
“No, I work at a...” she said feeling slightly petty, “bookstore, but why can’t you tell me?”
“I wish I could. You have saved my life. It would be my genuine pleasure to help you.” He sounded sincere to her.
“Give me a general idea. It doesn’t need to be true.” She tried again to which he stopped again.
“Here is a general idea. It’s like a gang war. One of us has gone rogue and trying to kill the rest. Way you go.” He resumed his walk again.
“But, you are from Poland. Is it an international gang?”
“You asked for the ‘general idea’.”
Alicia tried to make sense of it. “So you and Bernard were in the same gang, but why did Bernard come to Georgestown?”
“It is one of the divisions.”
“How many divisions are there?”
“Many. Even if all the people I know die tomorrow, the legacy would still survive.” He said searching for a road, but there was none. It was just greenery till the horizon.
Legacy!
She asked curiously, “How did you join it?”
“I didn’t join it. I was born in it. My parents were a part of it, and before them my grandparents.” He watched her. “As I said it is a Legacy.”
“You mean Legacy of Letters?” She said just to see his expressions which were hardly visible in the dark night, but she saw his eyes getting wide.
“You are one of us?” He could only reach this conclusion.
“No, but I know many things about your brotherhood.”
“Who told you? It is a secret.” He shook his head to deny her. “You cannot possibly know it.”
“For your information, our Chief of police know about you. He is full of theories about some ancient scripture and devil worshipping.” She smiled as Garret’s mouth shrink in contortion, but then he smiled suddenly because they had finally seen a truck passing by in the distance. He ran happily towards it; Alicia tried to match his pace, but winced when her foot hit a rock.
“What happened?” He asked loudly coming back with the same pace in which he had run towards the road. Then he saw her standing there without shoes.
“Take mine.” He quickly kicked out his shoes and gave to her. She felt slightly guilty, but was unable to continue in this condition.
“Comfortable?” He asked when she slipped her feet in his big manly shoes. When she nodded, he held her hand and ran again.
“Where will you go now?” Alicia asked loudly running with her.
“London, nowhere else to go.” He replied loudly.
“But I need to go to Georgestown.” She said standing near him on the edge of the road. The road was wide and looked familiar to Alicia. Her best guess was that it could be A1 highway.
“There is one person who thinks that we both can be dangerous for him, and that person is living in Georgestown. Don’t you think we should stay away from that place?” He said and waved to an upcoming Volvo.
The vehicle stopped to give them lift. Once nested in the back seat, Alicia realized that the couple in front was looking at them questioningly. She looked at Garret who said.
“We were kidnapped for ransom. We ran away from the place.”
The guy in the driv
ing seat offered, “We are going to the Piccadilly. We can drop you anywhere on the way.”
“Drop us at Barnet bypass.” Garret said quickly before Alicia could say a word. The journey was mostly silent except that the girl took a selfie with them, which she mentioned, was for her snapchat account.
“Listen lady,” Garret said in a serious voice leaning forward, “I would not advise you to post it. If the story goes viral, the kidnapper might take revenge upon you for giving us lift.”
The girl looked at him in fear and quickly dropped the mobile in her handbag.
By the time they reached Barnet bypass, it was almost dawn. Garret guided her through a small path into countryside. They walked for fifteen minutes and finally reached a large country house. It was a red house with large white windows and a blue roof top.
Garret put her hand in one of the plants placed in front of the house, and extracted a key.
“How do you know it was there?” Alicia asked him looking around. The grass was freshly moaned around the house and the house looked well-maintained.
“Because I put it there.” He opened the white double door and let her in. The entrance hall was wide and contained lots of windows opening towards the lawn. The furniture and furnishings had a debonair touch. This place could easily serve as a five-star resort in her opinion.
“There are lots of bedroom where you will find spare clothes. This is one of our safe houses for brothers. As you know so much about us, so I guess you also have a right to use our property.” He patted her. “Feel at home.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Warsaw Connection
She picked a bedroom which had a homely feel to her and opened the closet which was stocked with trouser and shirts of all types and all sizes. There were also several pair of men sandals as well. She picked a jeans and a blouse of her size and pushed herself in the hot shower. Getting rid of those clothes with blood, dust, and sweat was an amazing feeling. When she finally came out in fresh piece of jeans and t-shirt, along with a pair of sandals, she looked for Garret which took her sometime as it was not easy to find someone in the gigantic house.
The Killing Scripture (Alicia Stone Series Book 1) Page 13
