by Ony Bond
“I simply don’t trust her. Hope you never chase her too like these men who act as flies around a heap of compost. Under that veneer of decency, she’ll hurt a man, start sleeping around. Men better stay away from her. She’s dangerous.”
He guessed what Rose wanted to ask him. Realized James might come to the house tonight. That way he would meet Rose. He wondered if he was trying to scare Godfree away from her by telling him she was not to be trusted. He told James he planned to visit a classmate and would not be home this evening just in case he thought of dropping by for a game of chess.
“No problem, mate. We’ll have our game another time. Besides I’m busy this evening. Got something really important I must do. Going to pay someone I know a visit.”
“Huh, a girlfriend at last.”
He winked. “Maybe it’s a girl or a man. I’ll leave you guessing.”
“A man? You’re a secret homosexual?”
“Nowadays you can’t tell, huh?”
“Think it’s a girl.”
“Sshh. She’s married.”
“You’re seeing someone’s wife?”
James laughed. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”
He left earlier than Godfree and sped off in his car leaving him wondering whether he was going to see a girl. As he recalled they had not spoken about girlfriends much. When James inquired he had told him about his ex-girlfriend. In turn the Englishman had said his one-time girlfriend had died when she was young. After that he had just lost interest in girls. Maybe one day he would meet someone else.
In under half an hour Godfree was home and caught a bath.
He checked the time again. With ten minutes to go before five, he had just settled on the sofa to watch news when the doorbell buzzed.
It was Rose. She was still in her work clothes.
“Come in.”
CHAPTER 7
Her curious glance swept the room. At the novels, electrical engineering textbooks in the book shelf, guitar and the sofas. Moved close to the framed graduation certificate on the wall.
“Mm. You graduated with a first.”
“Yes. Have a seat.”
She stepped towards the bookshelf, pulled out a textbook, flipped through the pages, put it back and took out another. Stopped by the wall and looked at his graduation certificate again before sitting on the double couch. Her eyes were direct.
“James said you were tortured.”
“Did he?”
“Yes, and that you have scars on your back.”
“Why would he tell you that?”
“You almost died, were in hospital for months. That’s why you left.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I lied to him.”
“Thought of what you said at the machine graveyard. That some refugees are running away from persecution.”
“So you came to find out if it’s true? Maybe see the scars, huh?”
“James said he saw them, and they were horrible. I don’t think he was lying.”
“So why did you come here?”
“What really happened? Why were you tortured?”
“Did your dad send you here?”
She shook her head. “No. He doesn’t know I’m here. Just want to know first- hand what occurred.”
He watched her for a few seconds, then decided to tell her. Went back to the past, when he joined the main opposition political party with Aaron. The rally, and attack by Moto and his thugs. Waking up in a smelly dungeon of torture tied to a table. Moto administered the beating, had electric current, knives, whips and hot irons for his tools. Godfree believed he died as he recalled seeing himself in another body. A younger one, which hovered above the table where his old form was tied. Moto also checked his heart and concluded he was dead. He saw Moto drag his old body from the room, dump it onto a truck, drive to the forest, and throw him in the bush. Even the scene where David the surgeon and his girlfriend stopped by the side of the road and found him. Then a voice told it was not time for him to die. He was pushed back into his carcass. What followed was hospital, months of rehabilitation and constant nightmares. When he recovered he ran to England for a new life.
Turning he faced the wall, lifted his T-shirt and bared his back, glanced over his shoulder.
Her face paled. “That man was a beast! The pain must have been unbearable.”
She stood and touched his back. Traced the scars.
He dropped the T-shirt. “He was just doing his job to scare and silence the opposition. Mind a drink or tea?”
“Tea will be fine, thanks.”
She followed him to the kitchen, watched him make tea. He handed her a cup, perched on a stool. She did the same.
“You sure keep your house clean.”
“Thanks.”
“I met Moto again days ago.”
“You met that murderer?”
“He lives in Stones now.”
“WHAT?”
He explained their talk and how he had snapped, beat him and chased him. He wanted to burn that man’s bottom by putting him on a red hot stove. Moto had done that to his victims. When Godfrey searched for a knife Moto escaped. That’s when James arrived.
“Goodness! He tortured you and murdered your friend. I wouldn’t blame you for burning him. Even helped hold him down while you burnt him. Why didn’t you? He was right in your hands.”
“He asked for forgiveness. Plus, he has a pregnant wife.”
“And here I was calling you an asylum cheat. How cruel could I have been?”
“You didn’t know.”
“That’s the problem with ignorance. I only saw an extra refugee on our shores.”
He said that man had changed, became a whistle-blower, joined the opposition party and escaped to England. It did not bring the dead back. Godfree checked out his story by calling one of the opposition party members he knew. They collaborated Moto’s story as the truth. He was indeed a member of the opposition party now. If he ever set foot back home, he would be killed.
“He’s a torturer and murderer. So now he can hide here and enjoy asylum? It’s good I don’t know him or I’d tell him to his face what he is, and how I’m angry for what he did to you.”
“Tomorrow’s Saturday. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“Visiting the boot-fare in the morning.”
“Where’s that?”
“Lions Grounds next to Watling Avenue.”
“I know the place, have been there. Had been thinking about buying some stuff too.”
“We’ll meet there then. But we need to be early. That’s how to pick good bargains. Seven’s a good time. So you’ll come?”
“I’ll be there Rose. You own a dress or skirt?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Why not wear one tomorrow?”
“I’m just not used to them. Why should I wear one?”
“I’m curious, never seen you in one.”
“Do I look ugly in slacks?”
He shook his head. “I never said that.”
“Remove that fur from your cheeks, and trim that moustache if you want me to leave slacks at home.”
“So I look horrible with this beard?”
“You’d be better without it.” She touched his cheeks and moustache. “Leave these, but make them neater and shorter. You know any good barbers, or should I take you to one?”
“We have barbers in the High Street. I’ll get this sorted out today. They close at six.”
“You still got time. Where’s your bathroom?”
He showed her. When she appeared he offered her a cooked maize cob which she accepted.
“Want to see the rest of the house, especially my cellar? Just in case there are girls chained there.”
“I never said that.”
“I’d like to take you on a tour all the same. Let’s start upstairs.”
He led her up the stairs, showed her his bedroom, guestroom and then finally the cellar. She looked at the tens of books, commented
he kept the house neat even his cellar. Cellars were usually the dustiest of places.
“Can I borrow some books?”
“Sure.”
She picked two stories by African authors and a suspense thriller by an American author.
“The High Street is only a hundred yards from here. Let’s go get that beard sorted out before they close.”
“I’ll get that done.”
“We’re going together. Got to make sure you shave.”
“Bully.”
She elbowed him playfully in the ribs, then grabbed her bag. They walked down the street. In two minutes they hit the High Street and the barbers. He pushed the door, waited for her to enter. She muttered thanks, smiled back at the men.
“I brought this wild-looking man for a shave.”
“Over here, mate,” one barber said. “Please sit. What would you like done?”
Rose explained what she wanted, sat and waited.
After minutes the barber looked at her. “Want to inspect your boyfriend, lady? See if that’s how you like it.”
Boyfriend?
Rose stepped close. Nodded and smiled. “He looks better now. I was right. You look different now, Godfree.”
“Thanks.” He stood. “How much do I owe you?”
“Seven quid.”
As he was taking out his purse Rose beat him to it, whipped out a tenner and paid. Outside he held out the cash.
“No, Free. It’s ok. You get the burgers and drinks at the boot-fare tomorrow. That new look’s fine.”
“Mind a take-away?”
“Unless you want one as well.”
“I do. What’s your favourite?”
She mentioned Nandos chicken. They walked to the restaurant down the street. At the door he waited for her to enter first. They picked a menu. She pointed out her family loved Nandos chicken too. He ordered, flushed out his card before she did, and paid. They waited for their order.
“You didn’t need to buy for my family too.”
“Why not?”
She reached for her bag. “I'll pay you back for that.”
He touched her hand. “It’s my treat. They won’t know it’s me. Hey, stop looking like I’ve tricked you.”
She made a face before smiling, pulled out her phone and called.
“Dad, I’m fine, didn’t get lost. Tell mom I’m bringing some Nandos for the whole family so don’t bother to cook supper. Should be home soon. Love you too.”
Their number was called. The food was ready. He had it packed in two packages, carried it as they left.
“Rose, someone from work might see us together and tell your dad. He won’t be happy.”
“Then we’ll say we met in town. Are you saying you’re no longer coming to the boot-fare tomorrow so I forget about changing into a skirt?”
“No. I’ll come just to see you in a skirt for once.”
They reached his house. She got into her car, started the engine and rolled down the window.
“See you tomorrow, and thanks again for the food.”
“You’re welcome. Get home safe.”
He waved, watched her car disappear before entering the house a smile on his face.
CHAPTER 8
The killer drew close.
“Mr Moto.”
A startled Moto stopped and turned. “Eh...that’s not my name.”
He looked ready to bolt.
The other man’s voice was casual. “I know that’s your name. I have a very important message for you. You’d better hear it.”
Moto hesitated. “Who sent you?”
“Godfree. I know all about you. Despite how you tortured him and others and murdered people he wants to help you. It will be to your own benefit if you come with me. I’m not parked far. It’s your choice to have the people looking for you kill your wife, or Godfree helps.”
“Someone wants to hurt my wife?”
The killer shrugged. “Don’t know why Godfree’s even bothering with someone like you who deserves to die anyway. I’ll tell him you didn’t cooperate.”
“Wait.” Moto caught up. “Sorry about my attitude. You know Godfree?”
“We’re neighbours. I saw you that night you ran from his house. Had to ask him what that was all about. He’s a fine guy. I’d never seen him so angry like that night. Let’s sit in the car and talk. No one else must hear us.”
The killer’s car was in a council park a hundred yards away. They sat inside. The killer drove to a spot, pulled off the road and parked on a football ground.
“You don’t realize how much of a danger you and your wife are in. Godfree knows people hired to kidnap and kill both you and your wife.”
Moto’s listened as the other explained. There was something about Godfree. Despite what Moto had done he still wanted to help. People Moto had tortured had found out where he lived, paid some nasty guys to do the job two days from now. Godfree had somehow heard from one of the tortured parties that Moto’s days were numbered. Moto deserved it anyway. But then he thought of his pregnant wife. Her mistake was marrying someone like him to begin with. It puzzles him why Godfree wanted to help. Moto deserved to have his throat slashed. One cut and he was history.
“I must go home see my wife now,” Moto spoke fast. “Make sure she’s safe.”
The killer grabbed his sleeve. Moto’s breathing had increased.
“Wait. Didn’t you hear what I said? No need for that. She’s safe. The people are not planning their move today. You must see Godfree now and be advised on the next step to protect yourself and your wife. He’s the only one who can help you.”
Moto was sweating. “Alright. I need to see him, really appreciate what he’s doing to help.”
“I’ll take you to him now. He’s waiting at my place.” He started the car, headed for his house. “Did you really think you’d stay hidden in Stones all your life and the people you tortured not find you? Changing your name won’t even save you. Those men you hurt are mad with you. As they say what goes around comes around. You should be thanking Godfree. Can’t understand why he should even bother to help. If it was me I’d just let those guys kill you and rape your wife before they do the same. I’d stab you and rip your heart out. Wonder how your heart would taste like, huh? We’ll see him in minutes. After his help it’ll be good to give him something to thank you. You got cash on you?”
Moto nodded. “Yes. He’s really helping me after my mistreatment.”
“How much? He’s going out of his way for you.”
“I got five hundred on me.”
“You telling the truth?”
“Yes.”
“Give him that. It’s not even enough for saving your life. You tortured him, left him for dead.”
He could see Moto was scared for himself and his family and trusted Godfree had indeed sent him.
The killer was excited, did not make it show on his face. Each time before a kill the feeling was like this. A warmth of anticipation. This man must die for his sins.
The killer had driven past his house today, seen him walk to town and followed. After parking he had stalked him to the High Street. Moto had stopped at an ATM machine and withdrew cash. He was vulnerable right now. Mentioning Godfree had been a master stroke. Those atrocities Moto had committed in his past made him believe people who sought revenge knew where he was. The man who should hate him wanted to help. He needed Godfree.
They parked the car in the garage. The killer unlocked the door, waved him inside. Moto glanced around him.
“Godfree’s in the downstairs lounge. Come in.”
He opened the cellar door, clicked the light as Moto stepped on the first stair. Before he could utter a word something hard crashed on his head. He groaned, rolled and landed on the floor. The killer closed the door, hoisted the bewildered man to the bed and chained his hands and legs. Moto grimaced with pain.
“I broke my arm,” he whimpered. “Who’re you? What do you want with me?”
The killer held
a knife and smiled. “I’m your worst nightmare, Comrade Moto. That’s what they called you. This room is soundproof. Nobody will hear you if you scream. Listen to my story first. If you do I might not cut you and let you go.” He tore the clothes off a shivering Moto and threw them on the floor. “Looks like you wet yourself. Bad boy. Thought you stopped that when you were a baby. You won’t be needing these clothes any longer, comrade. Think I need this blade sharper.”
He started sharpening the knife with a file.
Moto screamed as he tried to break the chains. The killer slapped him hard on both cheeks, gagged him and placed the tip of the knife on his neck.
“I want you to listen, you coward. I’m going to kill you because you deserve to die. Like you did the others. If you make any move, I’ll sink this blade into your neck. Got it?”
Moto’s face was wet with perspiration. He nodded.
“Good. Look at the wall. See those pictures? That’s the three blonde girls the police are looking for. I’m sure you’ve read about the blonde abductor. Now you know who I am. I killed those girls here after having my way with them first. I won’t do that to you. Touching other men isn’t my style. But I want you to listen to my story. The night’s still young. We have all the time in the world. You got your phone on you?”
He licked the knife blade.
Moto’s eyes bulged.
The killer picked the torn slacks, pulled out the phone, opened it, removed the sim card, threw the phone on the floor and stamped on it. Pulled out the cash in a pocket and counted it.
“You were right. Five hundred quid. Mm. You won’t be needing this where you’re going, comrade.” He pocketed it. “Let’s say it’s your parting gift to me. Now back to my story.”
He spoke for a while about his past and why he was killing the girls.
“Now I’ll come back to you, comrade. You tortured Godfree and killed his friend. I’ll use the same methods you did, and add my own inventions. Slice you on your back like a turkey, make you feel pain. It’s a pity Godfree isn’t here or see you scream and whimper like you made your victims do. Now it’s your turn. Bet you never thought you’d be bound, and tortured too like you did your victims, huh? As they say what comes around goes around. I call it karma, comrade. A time to pay back. I’m sure you realize now that Godfree never sent me. I planned it. You ran away from your country to hide here, even married and got a woman pregnant. Had the audacity to enjoy pizza and kebab too. You’re a real bastard. Call me a vigilante who’s getting rid of the bad guys. Comrade, I’m smarter than you. I will torture you until you die. And thanks for the cash. You aren’t even bright, Moto. And by the way, you need to know what else I’m going to do to you. Castrate you. I’ve done it once before. Hey, don’t be scared now. Enough talking now, comrade. I got work to do, so many techniques to try and perfect. It might hurt a little. Let’s see how brave you are.”
