by K C West
Designer Suit dismissed his men. He made a show of closing the door and leaning back against it, arms folded. I could see the shine of matching gold pinkie rings on his well-manicured fingers.
We stared at each other for several seconds.
I swallowed.
The room grew warmer. A trickle of sweat formed at my neck and slid down between my breasts. I could feel my underarms dampen. Geez, I needed a shower. My body odor alone could probably knock him out.
That thought brought a tiny grin, which I suppressed.
The more we stared at each other, the more familiar he seemed, but I couldn’t quite place him. Had we met before? I didn’t think it was prudent to ask that question.
I wondered if he carried a gun, or if he had ever used one. Visions of a Mafia enforcer drifted into my mind, but I squelched the thought-Surely, that couldn’t happen here in Wales, this peaceful, idyllic place. Besides, I didn’t know any Mafia enforcers. At least, I didn’t think I did.
We continued our visual standoff. What was with the silent treatment? Was he trying to scare me? If so, it was working.
He unclasped his arms and walked to the edge of the table, stopping just a few feet from where I sat. I kept my eyes focused on his, summoning the courage to endure whatever would happen next.
“Pricilla - ”
“That’s Dr. Curtis to you.”
Sometimes the best defense is a strong, in-your-face offense. Sometimes.
His head bobbed, conceding a point to me in this freaky tennis match of wills. “Very well, Dr. Curtis. I’m afraid you have not been our most cooperative guest.”
“Guest?”
“Yes. My associates inform me that you complain about your accommodations.”
“It’s a cold, filthy cellar, with a lumpy cot and a blanket so thin - ”
“You demand special privileges.”
I gritted my teeth, seething. “Christ! I wanted to take a shower, wash my hair, and brush my teeth. That’s only basic - ”
“And you speak most discourteously to them.”
“What? I can’t believe this! Listen, they deserved whatever I said to them!”
I leaned forward in my seat, mustering all the bravado I possessed. “Let me tell you, Mr. whoever-the-hell-you-are, I am not a guest here. I’m a prisoner. I was abducted - painfully I might add - and brought to this shithole without makeup, a change of clothing or even a toothbrush. If it hadn’t been for Sarah, I’d have perished from neglect. Where is Sarah, by the way?”
“Her whereabouts shouldn’t concern you.”
The way he said it made a chill skip along my spine.
“I see.” It took all my strength to return his volley.
“And here’s another thing. I’m only fed whenever the mood strikes one of you. Then, when you add being mauled by a lecherous - ”
“That will do, Ms. Curtis.” Heaving a weary sigh, he pulled out a chair and sat so close to me that our knees touched, making my stomach tighten.
“That’s Doctor Curtis to - ”
“I need to tell you something right now,” he said, ignoring me. “It’s for your own good.”
He stretched out a hand and tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. I kept my eyes focused on his eye slits.
“I’m listening.”
“You will not make demands, nor will you hinder the progress of our plans. If one of my associates happens to think impure thoughts about you, the other will keep him in line. You will not be harmed as long as you obey us. Do you understand? We hold all the cards.”
“Is that so?” I said in a low, even voice. I tried to make it a growl. Kim would have growled.
His hand dropped. I heard a metallic click, and a switchblade flashed before my eyes.
I flinched. Jesus. Take it easy.
The blade glistened when he waved it in front of my face. I swallowed again and watched as he slid it along the front of my wool shirt, slicing neatly through the stitching of three buttons, and moving it upward along my chest.
I sat paralyzed as the blade pierced my T-shirt near the collar, making a V-neck in one quick upward thrust. The blade tip paused in the hollow of my throat. It was so close to the surface of my skin that I dared not even swallow.
“You will make no further trouble. Is that clear, Ms. Curtis?” His voice had deepened.
When I hesitated, the blade bit into my flesh. I felt a stinging pain, and a trickle of blood seeped along the top of my T-shirt.
“I can’t hear you.”
“It’s clear,” I managed to whisper.
“That’s much better.”
Game, set, and match to Designer Suit.
He pulled the knife upward, wiping the blade on my cheek. I sank back in my seat, finally understanding the game. It was all about power. He had it. At the moment, I didn’t.
“Now that I have your attention, here is what I need to discuss with you. We haven’t had much success with our ransom notes and calls.”
I didn’t respond.
“It appears that your father has received numerous contacts from crackpots all over the world.”
Dad was stalling so the police could try to locate me. Just what he said he’d do in this event. I permitted myself a tiny smile.
“Oh, don’t get too cocky, Miss Curtis. We have another plan in mind.”
“If it involves taking a picture and sending it to my father, you can forget it. He’ll say that he has no way of knowing if I’m still alive.”
Designer Suit shifted in his seat, continuing to hold the knife, but not as menacingly as before.
“You seem to know your father very well.”
I shrugged. “We talked about security and what could go wrong and… stuff.” I didn’t enjoy talking about this eventuality when it was obvious that something had gone wrong.
“What would he think of a video tape of you giving him the details of our ransom request? Would he believe that?”
“I imagine he would, if he knew that I was still alive and in reasonably good health.”
I couldn’t tell through his mask, but I think that amused him. “You’d need a shower, to show you were in good health?”
I gave him a thin-lipped smile. “It would be a nice goodwill gesture.”
“Yes, I can see that.” His tone was patronizing, but if it meant getting clean, I didn’t care. “We will prepare a message for your father, and you will deliver it right here in this room. The owner of this house is away for the next three weeks. We’ve already checked on that. He has some video equipment that I’m sure he won’t mind us borrowing.”
His chuckle was soft, but I could imagine the self-satisfied smirk on his face. I recalled my exploration of the medicine cabinet. Yes, the resident, and the town in which he resides. I had wondered if Peter Gibbs was connected with these men, but now I felt certain he had no idea what was happening here.
I thought about this videotaping idea and what it could mean in terms of my possible escape. Each night before drifting off to sleep, I had drawn up plans and then discounted them for one reason or another. There just might be a way to turn this situation to my advantage, if I could do this video on my terms. I would have to resist a bit first, and make it look like it was all their idea.
“My associates will prepare a message for your father,” Designer Suit continued. “We will videotape you reading it. He will receive the tape, give us the money, and you will be released at a time and place of our choosing. Is that understood?”
“Perfectly.”
“Excellent.”
“Except for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“My father doesn’t make deals with kidnappers. He has to be handled with finesse. He won’t pay a ransom easily.”
“Not even to save his only daughter?”
“Especially not for that.” I could only hope these people were familiar with our turbulent history from reading tabloids, and had not learned of our recent reconciliation. It was p
robably crazy to try to change their minds about a ransom, but I had so little leverage, anyway. I figured stalling on my end might help.
“You don’t think you’re worthy of being ransomed?”
“How much are you asking?”
“Ten million.”
“Dollars!”
He nodded.
“No way.” I shook my head in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding. My father is a tightwad. You’ll never get that much from him. Sorry to disappoint you and the boys.”
“Are you saying we shouldn’t even try?”
I shrugged. “It won’t be easy, that’s for sure. I mean, you can’t just have me read a demand for that much money and expect him to cave in. It would take some time to get that much money together.” I tried to look sad. “I don’t see how your video scheme will work, not for all that money. I guess you’re screwed, and I am, too.”
Designer Suit stood and looked away, obviously pondering. Finally, he turned back to me and pulled something from his pocket. “I’m going to show you some pictures, Ms. Curtis. I think they may convince you to cooperate with us. We could even give you a say in what you tell your father on the tape. We’d have to approve the script, of course, but I bet you’ll be able to convince him to pay the money. See, it’s not just your life in jeopardy. If we don’t get the entire ten million, others will suffer.”
What the hell was he getting at? I decided to press him on the issue. “I think you’re bluffing.”
The knife flashed again. For one heart-stopping moment, I was afraid that I’d pushed him too far, that it was all over. He reached round and cut the bindings at my wrists. I bit down on my lower lip my numb arms and hands tingled back to life, and flexed my fingers until some feeling returned.
So far, we had played a game of verbal tennis, which I lost, and a same of force-the-captive-to-request-a-ransom-payment, which I planned to go along with, grudgingly. Now, he was confusing me with something else. Who was manipulating whom? This guy was plenty shrewd.
He held up a handful of photos and then dropped the first one into my lap. It was a shot of the inn where Kim and I were staying. I was surprised, but recovered quickly, keeping my gaze on him. “So?”
“The second one.” He flipped over a photo of Kim and me outside the Bragdy Cambrian Brewery in Dolgellau.
“Someone has a lot of free time on his hands.” My eyes returned to focus on him, though a slight tremor went through my hand when I examined the picture. Kim had been right. Someone was following us around. Small comfort that was, now.
“Still think we’re bluffing?” He dropped the third onto the vacant chair beside me. I snatched it up, unable to breathe.
“Pup? No! Oh, God, no!” Our pet was lying on his side in the inn’s front garden, a patch of dark soil underneath him. His eyes were half-open, and his tongue lolled to one side of his mouth. I surged toward Designer Suit, my hands balled into fists.
“You bastard!” The words caught in my throat. “You goddamned, filthy, rotten son of a bitch!” I couldn’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. Tears welled up and spilled down my cheeks, but I kept going at him, trying to beat him to a bloody, unrecognizable pulp with my bare hands.
He took a step backwards and flicked open the switchblade.
I halted when the blade tip waved in the vicinity of my neck.
“Sit down,” he said, in a quiet, controlled voice. “I’m not finished with you. What happened to the animal was to demonstrate that we mean business.”
I sank into the chair and lowered my head, still crying.
He grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked upward, forcing me to look at him. With his other hand, he shoved the final picture into my face. Kim and I were in the inn’s back garden, hand in hand.
“Now listen to me,” he said.
I viewed him through a film of tears.
“You will make the tape, Priscilla. Or we’ll kill her, too.”
Chapter 16
I sat at the table under the bright floodlight while my kidnappers prepared to shoot the film we were going to make for Dad.
I didn’t know why we needed the spotlight. The heat was making me sweat. Well, that and my nerves. At least I’d gotten a shower, shampoo, and new toothbrush out of the deal.
If only I’d listened to Kim. My eyes started to tear up, I missed her so much, but I couldn’t think about her now. I had some serious work to do.
Designer Suit had gained my cooperation in making the video. All it took was a threat to my partner and the killing of our beloved pet. Now, I couldn’t wait to send my loved ones a message, one I hoped would lead them straight to me. I had to be clever about it, though, or I would endanger everyone.
They were fiddling with the camera, looking so weird in their multicolored ski masks. But if I didn’t see their faces, I couldn’t identify them, and they’d have no reason to kill me once they got the ransom. They probably just wanted to get the money and get out of Wales.
I kept trying to convince myself that soon I’d be back in the arms of my loved ones. And I wanted to comfort Kim. She’d be distraught over losing Pup.
“Okay, Blondie, do your thing. And no funny business.” Garlic Breath moved behind the camera, which was mounted on a tripod at the end of the table.
“Would it be okay if my hands were untied? You could chain my ankle to the table leg, like you’ve been doing. I talk with my hands, you know.” It galled me to have to beg him for anything.
He looked over at his boss, who gave a slight nod. “I guess we can do that for you.” He took his time ambling along the edge of the table to my side. With an exaggerated sigh, he cut the bindings around my wrists, taking the opportunity to put his hands on my butt when I leaned forward.
I ignored him and flexed my fingers. Then I slipped out of my wool shirt, grabbed the script, and cleared my throat. It looked like I was going to only one chance, so I’d better get it right the first time.
I took a final glance at Designer Suit, who had moved out of the camera’s range to a position along one wall. Woodsy was at my back and to the right, guarding the door, just in case I planned to pick up the end of the table and bolt for freedom. Designer Suit gave me a nod, Garlic Breath counted down from three, and the red light blinked on. I straightened my shoulders, wet my lips, and tried to smile.
“Hello, Father. It’s me, PJ.” I spread my hands and gestured. “As you can see, I’m alive. A little shaky, but alive.”
I read from the text, embellishing in a few spots. “My amigos, here, are demanding a ransom often million American dollars, to be delivered in three days. They know you’re on the way to Wales, so they’re sending this tape to your London office. The drop-off location for the ransom will be disclosed later, before the deadline.”
I placed the script on the table, folded my hands on top of it, and stared into the camera lens.
“Father, I know I’ve been a pain in the ass for quite some time, and that it is your policy to refuse to pay ransoms.”
My hands parted, and I gestured again. It helped me to imagine that Dad and Kim were sitting just behind Garlic Breath and the camera, listening.
“Normally, I would agree with you, but I have been persuaded to ask you - no, to beg you - to reconsider.” While I said this last sentence, I stroked the collar of my T-shirt, hoping it looked casual enough. I wanted Dad and Kim to see the dried blood there, and know that these guys were serious about their threats. “I’m not permitted to explain further, but Pup’s death… was…”
I stopped and looked away, swiping at some unplanned tears. The loss of our pet left my emotions raw, and I took a deep breath before starting over. “Pup’s death was a warning to all of us that these people mean business. If we ignore that warning, several of us will suffer. Please pay close attention to my words. I don’t mean to harp on the subject, but lives are in danger here.”
I paused and looked down at the script before continuing. “They’ve read the newspapers and monitored t
he radio and television reports. They’re not happy that you’ve brought the police into this, Father, but they understand that you received many bogus messages. They’re willing to overlook your foolishness if you obey their orders and work directly with them. They’re reasonable, but their patience is limited.”
I tried to smile. “Finally, please don’t blame Sandy or Max because I’m missing. I take full responsibility for disobeying orders and leaving the hotel without an escort. Take good care of the staff.” My lip quivered, and I could barely choke out my next words. “I love you all.”
“Aww, so touching.” Garlic Breath switched off the bright light. When he turned away from me to pack up the camera, I gave him the finger.
Now that the hard part was finished, my mouth was parched. I looked over at Woodsy, who was still guarding the door. “Could I please have some water?”
“I’ll get it,” the boss said. “In fact, I’ll get something for all of us. Keep an eye on her.” He left the room and returned with three bottles of Bass Pale Ale and a bottle of water.
Designer Suit and Garlic Breath began a discussion of various ways to send the tape to my dad, and Woodsy was ordered to return me to the basement after I finished my drink.
My head ached from the stress of taping the ransom message. I sat and wondered if I would be rescued, and if Dad, Kim, and the police would pick up on the clues that I’d included in the message. The chance was probably slim, but I refused to give up. My attention focused on what I could do to escape.
I was no longer heavily sedated like I had been when I first arrived, but on all trips out of the basement room, my ankles were shackled and one or both thugs escorted me. The door to that room was solid and the lock frustratingly unpickable. My best bet for escape would be during an excursion upstairs.
I wondered about Sarah, too. I hadn’t seen her since the evening before the night of screams. She had been so kind to me. With a little more time, I’d bet I could have convinced her to help me escape. Now, that wasn’t an option.
Since my capture, a subtle change had developed in my daily routine. Sometimes, I was allowed to come upstairs and fix a meal for all of us. I didn’t know how to prepare a lot of things, but I guess it was a cut above what they could do for themselves. I thought about escaping during those times, but so far, one of them had always been with me, and the others were close by.
