The Bee Keeper

by Vincent, Tracy D

  He sets down a case and some bottles on the counter against the wall closest to my feet, and comes over and starts undoing the shackles. First, he unties my feet, then he moves to my hands. “I’m really sorry about this. Dr. Staples was concerned that when you woke, she’d be accosted. Can’t be too careful these days when you’re a woman, right?”

  “I understand. Why did you have my men removed? This isn’t how gentlemen conduct themselves,” I reprimand him.

  He just stands and looks at me once he finishes with my last hand. He blinks for several moments as if he’s trying to figure out how to say what’s on his mind. I hop down from the patient bed and walk back to the sofa and sit. I motion for him to sit across from me, as if this were my office instead of his.

  He follows my lead and sits in the chair across from me, this time staring at the table between us. “What I’m about to divulge to you, can’t be spoken of outside of this room. And the fewer people who know, the safer it is for everyone. Which is why your men had to go. I know my methods seem strange, but believe me when I tell you that even they can’t know.”

  He has my curiosity piqued now. “So, this secret is dangerous? What does this have to do with me or my daughter, for that matter? I came here simply to pick her up.” Now my thoughts are running rampant with diseases and pandemics.

  He reaches a hand towards me as if to calm me down. “Oh, no! Sorry. Your daughter is here and everything is the way it’s supposed to be. Dr. Staples is taking care of your daughter as we speak. You’ll be reunited with her soon enough. No, this secret is for you to know, because I need your help, and I am certain that you will understand my strange methods once I tell you. Because let us be honest with one another, you’ve done some similar things to people to keep your own secrets, right?”

  I just cock my eyebrow at him. “Okay. So, continue. What could you possibly need my help with?”

  “The senator has requested that I look into a matter of personal, as well as professional, security. And my journey has led me to you.”

  “Get on with it, Dr. Miller. I have received several phone calls and texts while tied up, and I need to get back with those people.” As if on cue, my phone beeps again, informing me of the unanswered voicemails and texts.

  “Yes, yes. I’m sorry, Mr. Hauer. You see, the senator has a missing briefcase. And this briefcase has some sensitive docu—”

  “How can I help you with a missing briefcase of the senator’s?”

  “Simple. It involves you, as well. And since you’re an all-knowing man, I’m aware that you know about this briefcase. Also, it behooves you to help, because the sensitive information on those documents.”

  “Go on.”

  “Mr. Hauer, I’m aware of who you are and what your family business. So, I’m not going to play around here. And you can trust that I’ll keep your secret safe, just as I’m trusting you to keep my secret safe with you. A little give and take, if you will.”

  “Hmm…” I give as my response.

  “Anyway, my research into this matter leads me to you. I’ve been given the impression that you have the briefcase in question…” His voice tapers off and he looks at me expectantly.

  I sigh and look at him, trying to assess just what he has to gain or offer in this exchange.

  “Why would the senator ask you, a research doctor, to find a briefcase filled with secret documents?”

  “Good question and that is where my secret comes in.” He heaves a sigh and looks down at the table. “Yes, I’m a research doctor here at the Department of Science and Technology. That is my primary role here. But I also extract truths from people. Though I never coined myself “The Bee Keeper”, that is what I’m commonly referred to.” He looks up at me, the nerves evident in the set of his face.

  “So, you can see why I need the utmost discretion. If it was common knowledge that I was the Bee Keeper, then my family could be at risk.”

  The news floors me. I don’t know what I expected him to say to me, but this is definitely not it. Oh, this is good. I have to work to keep from smiling because this is amazingly wonderful news. This has to be one of the best bits of blackmail I’ve ever had. This is not only blackmail against Dr. Miller but also the senator. He’ll never get out of my pocket now. I have just been handed my Ace card.

  “So, Dr. Miller, you want me to believe that you are the infamous Bee Keeper? Why would I do that? You’re going to have to give me more than your word. What proof do you have of being ‘The Bee Keeper?’” I use air quotes because I don’t want him to think that I believe this, which I kind of don’t. It is a little convenient and a bit too good to be true. Really, shouldn’t someone that frightens the entire city be more…I don’t know…just more.

  “The person who they arrested came here a few days ago. She stole the car, she took a joyride in it but never once did she know of a body in the trunk, let alone a briefcase. The body being your capo Phillip Allen James, and the briefcase having never been in the car at all.”

  “I see. And why do you think that I have your briefcase, Mr. Bee Keeper?”

  “Maya told me that you got it from her secret safe from within her closet.”

  I charge at him and have him backed against the wall in an instant, my hand closing around his throat. “What the fuck did you just say, lab rat?”

  He just looks at me, his expression calm, and definitely not like a man who’s having his windpipe crushed by my hands. That’s when I feel the jab in my chest. I look down and see the syringe hanging from my jacket. It takes a moment for me to realize what he’s done, and by then my sight blurs. My hands lose their grip on his neck. He takes a couple of deep breaths while my legs crumple beneath me.

  “I’ll see you in a bit, Mr. Hauer.”

  The last thing I see before the world goes black is his eyes studying me like I’m the lab rat and not him.

  When I wake up, my body is strapped face down, my arms and legs stretched tight. I can see a mirror underneath me through a hole in the cushion and I can see that I’m not completely facedown, but rather bent over. The next thing I notice is the pain in my ass. There’s something lodged inside my asshole. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you piece of shit, rat-faced, slimy bastard!” I scream out into the room.

  “You’re more than welcome to try when I’m finished.” His voice comes from behind me. I twist and turn to try to find him back there.

  “Fuck you, you fuckin’ mook! If you think raping me is going to get you anywhe-”

  “Oh, I’m not raping you, Mr. Hauer,” he says as he walks around toward my face. “And no one else is, either. You are feeling pressure in your rectum, but there is no person back there raping you.”

  “What the fuck do you want?” It’s hard to see him from this position and I can feel the spittle fly out and run down my chin. I still feel a little thick-headed from whatever drug he shot me up with.

  “I need the briefcase.” He stares down into the mirror and I can see his face, there’s a cold detachment there.

  He might think he can intimidate me, but he’s in for a rude awakening, the cockroach. “I need your fucking face broken, but it doesn’t look like either of us is going to get what we need.”

  “That’s not the answer to my question.” His face is a mask of disappointment and he huffs. He grabs one of the chairs and sits it in front of my face. I have to strain my head back in order to see him.

  “Here, you have no power. You don’t even have the power to go to the toilet if you want. This”—he gestures to the room with one hand—“is my office. These are my rules. I don’t care how you feel about any of it. I don’t care what you want. There is no negotiation at this juncture. We’ve passed that.”

  I spit in his direction, and he moves his foot to avoid being hit with it.

  “Here’re the rules. I ask you questions. You answer them truthfully. If you don’t answer them, I press this button”—he lifts a remote out of one of his pockets—“and this”—he reaches hi
s hand into his other pocket, lifting out a barbed, pear-shaped device—“opens, like so.” He puts the remote back into his pocket and starts to twist the base of the device, which starts to open.

  “In case you’re wondering, it’s referred to as a Pope’s Pear or Pear of Anguish. It was popular during medieval times and mostly used in the mouth to unhinge jaws. But since I want you to talk, I figured we’d use this modified version in your anus.”

  “You’re fucking crazy! Let me the fuck go!” I struggle against the cuffs tying me down.

  “Now, you might want to be still. See these little spikes? They’re not very large and actually they aren’t very sharp either, you can press your hands on them and not cut yourself, but the skin on the palm of your hand is durable and tough. It’s designed to withstand sharp objects and rough treatment. The skin in your colon, on the other hand, is very thin and extremely fragile. These same spikes will chew through your bowels like a starving man at a buffet.”

  I grow very rigid.

  “Now that you’ve seen it, let me explain how it’ll be used. I know you saw that it opened when you twist the end. That’s what the remote will do. I’ll push the button and it’ll twist it one click at a time. This will open your colon and stretch it impossibly tight and the little spikes will gouge grooves into it. This will cause you much pain and bleeding. But that’s the least of your worries.” He says all this conversationally, as though he’s not describing how he’s going to rip my asshole apart, and I can only stare at him open-mouthed.

  “So, let’s talk about something else, shall we? I’ll get to the briefcase later.” He pulls the chair over and sits just to the side, so I can turn and lay my head down and look at him.

  “I’m going to make sure you get gutted like a fucking fish, you piece of shit. I’ll make sure that your fucking family dies in front of you and I bathe in the blood of your children,” I snarl in his direction. But his expression never changes. He knows who I am. He knows what I’m capable of, but yet, he shows no fear.

  “Let’s talk about a certain Clive Fawkes. Do you remember Clive Fawkes? This would be around twenty years ago, give or take a year.” He leans back in his chair and crosses one leg over the other.

  “Why the fuck should I remember Clive Fawkes? I know a lot of people and twenty years ago is a long fucking time, so refresh my goddamned memory.” I am not normally so unhinged, but he has me at a disadvantage and I hate it.

  “Ah, okay. I’ll give you the backstory and you can give me the rest. Clive Fawkes used to be part of the elite of Hartford. Lived in a really fancy house just outside of the city on Hawkesbury Road. It had been in his family since before Hartford existed.” He stands and walks over to the counter to grab himself a bottle of water, then returns to his seat.

  After taking a small drink, he continues, “The family actually used to own most of the land in and around Hartford, but through business transactions, government takeovers, and just plain bad dealing, they had gotten down to a few homes and some business assets. Clive was pretty much living well until he started to frequent a casino that you own. That’s when things really went downhill.”

  He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and linking his fingers together. “He gambled away pretty much everything and he owed the house a bunch of money. More than he could scrape together without selling his home. So, he made you a deal you obviously felt you couldn’t refuse.”

  I think back to that time. It was only a little bit after Nicola had died—five or so years—and I was more hands-on in my dealings than I am now. Normally, that sort of thing, I let my operations manager handle or one of the capos. But back then, if it was a high roller, I was the one negotiating the deal with them. I loved watching them squirm. Hell, I still love to watch them squirm.

  “Clive offered you the chance of a lifetime. He said you could take his daughter’s virginity for the remainder of his debt.” His eyes scrutinize my face. It’s like this asshole can look into my soul.

  “Oh, yeah. I remember. She was a young thing, barely legal. Really pretty. I can remember thinking that there was no way she was a virgin…” The images of the memory flash through my mind and I get lost in them.

  I stand in Clive’s home office and he’s practically begging me to not strip him of the last holding. This asshole owes me almost half a million dollars, and he’s given me everything but around $100,000. I could forgive him that, but I won’t. He needs to learn to not bet what he doesn’t have. Besides, I love watching entitled bastards like him grovel.

  “I can’t sell my family home. It’s been in our family for over two hundred years! Where would my family and I live?” He sits behind his desk with papers strewn about and his hands in his hair. His clothes are rumpled and his tie is sitting on the sofa that my men are sitting on.

  “Well, that’s not my problem, Clive. You sat at my casino, drank my booze, fondled my servers and dealers, and played my games. You lost those games. We didn’t collect at that moment because we took you at your word that you were good for it. You fleeced me, Clive.” I sit forward in my chair that’s in front of his desk. I smack his desktop with force, causing him to look up at me, fear finally gracing his features. “Do you know what I generally do to those who try to fleece me?”

  “I can’t imagine…”

  I interrupt him. “I FUCKING GUT THEM!!” I stand and tower over him. “Do you want me to gut you? Or would you rather I start with your precious family?”

  “Oh God, no. Please, don’t.”

  The door creaks open and this beautiful girl walks in. She is young and reminds me a little of Nicola. Her skin is fairer and her eyes are like storm clouds, but she has that pretty brown hair that waves down.

  “Dad, I heard shouting, is everything okay?” She asks this timidly, as though she was afraid of getting into trouble.

  “Everything is fine, pumpkin. Go back to your room and do something nice for your momma. She’s been feeling ill lately.” There is no tender look in Clive’s eyes regardless of how gentle his voice is.

  “Yes, Dad.” She turns and shuts the door behind her.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hauer. That’s my daughter. Sometimes she gets nosy. I’ll make sure she’s handled.”

  “That’s okay, Clive. I have a daughter of my own. I think they’re like cats, impossible to herd. She’s a beautiful girl. What’s her name?” I sit back down and watch him closely.

  “Her name is Elizabeth. Thank you, she takes after her mother.” He gets a strange expression then blurts out, “She’s a virgin. I heard you like to be the first. If I let you have her for a night, can we call the remainder of the debt even?”

  This is new. A father willing to sell his daughter’s virginity for a whole $100k. His own daughter’s virginity. She’s made it this long with it. I have to admit the thought is quite intriguing. Plus, this would give me quite the advantage over Mr. Fawkes.

  Not to give in so soon, I say, “What makes you think I’m interested in your daughter’s supposed virginity? No pussy is worth a hundred grand, whether it’s pure or not.”

  My men on the couch snicker and shift uncomfortably. What kind of sick fuck offers his daughter’s virginity to a stranger for a debt repayment?

  “Just think of being the first to kiss her. She’s never even been kissed before, let alone had a man inside of her. She’d be willing to do it to save the family home. If she’s anything like her mother, she’ll be sweet and giving in bed.” The motherfucker’s not even blinking or showing any signs of upset that he’s offering his daughter up as the sacrificial lamb. But I have had mothers and daughters before and they do fuck similarly.

  “Yeah, so you say, how can you guarantee that she’s a virgin or that she’ll be willing?”

  “She’s homeschooled by my wife, and the only men she’s near are me and a few that come over for business. Trust me, she’s innocent. But if she isn’t when you get her, then you can kill me and take my home.” Now he’s showing upset, but it�
��s the thought of losing his life and house that’s upsetting him.

  I should do the girl a fucking favor and show her how a real man treats the women in his life. “One night, you say? Make it the entire weekend. I promise to wine and dine her and make sure she’s treated well.”

  He thrust his hand at me for a gentlemen’s agreement. “Deal!”

  I shake his hand and stand, buttoning my jacket. “I expect her ready tonight by seven. I’ll keep her until Monday morning and I’ll bring her back here. Be certain that she’s willing.”

  “So, you struck an agreement with Clive Fawkes over his daughter’s virginity? Didn’t you think that you’d need her permission for this?” The fucking prick was leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Something you poor shits don’t understand, and I didn’t either until I was around the rich long enough, their children will do whatever Daddy says, otherwise, they’re afraid of losing their trust funds.” I laugh at his expression.

  “But, yeah, that night, I show up at her house and she’s standing in the foyer waiting for me. And that night, I took her to my place, fed her well, and I was her first. She cried, of course, it was her first time. They always cry during their first time. I don’t know if you know that, being a lab rat and all.” I look him over. “I doubt pussy crawls your way.”

  “So, you only did it the once?” he asks me, completely ignoring my jabs at him.

  “Oh no, I made sure she was well versed in sex before she went home Monday morning. I know the fuckwit told me so, but you know you can’t believe desperate men like Clive. If he’s willing to sell his daughter, he is willing to do anything. So, I didn’t believe in the beginning, but I really was her first everything. Her first kiss, her first blowjob, her first lover. She loved it so much it brought her to tears.” I grin at him, relishing the memory. I don’t mind telling him because it’s ancient history.