by Shaun Hutson
She hit the final full stop on the article and leaned back in her chair looking at the screen for a moment before she got to her feet and padded to the bathroom.
She’d barely pushed the door closed behind her when she heard the ringing of her mobile.
Jess muttered under her breath but decided to wait. Whoever it was would ring back or leave a message on voice mail. When she was finished she headed back towards her laptop.
It was as she was passing the door of her flat she heard movement outside.
She put her eye to the spyhole and squinted out into the gloom beyond.
It was pitch black in the hall way. She couldn’t see a thing. Normally when someone entered the building the lights on the stairs came on, triggered by a motion sensor in the main entryway but this time it was still dark out on the stairwell.
Jess lingered at the spyhole for a second longer then stepped away from the door.
More movement outside her door.
She spun round, this time reaching for the lock, preparing to turn it, to step outside into the stairwell and see who was moving about at this time of the night. It was just past 12.46 a.m. and the building was normally silent by this time. Jess’s hand hovered over the lock but she didn’t turn it. Why she didn’t she wasn’t sure but something stopped her and she swallowed hard, pressing her eye to the spyhole and trying to see through the blackness beyond.
She stood there for almost a minute and was relieved when she heard nothing else. Jess turned away and headed for her laptop and phone, wanting to see who was calling her so late. She guessed it was Hadley.
When she reached the phone she saw that the screen was displaying the words ‘Missed Call’. She checked the number but there was nothing in the call log. Whoever had been ringing, it wasn’t Hadley.
She held the phone in her hand for a moment, seeing her own reflection in the screen. She hesitated a moment longer then called Hadley’s number. It began to ring.
Jess scanned the story she’d written once again as she waited for Hadley to pick up. Perhaps, she thought, smiling, he too was in the toilet. Fifteen rings later there was still no answer. She dialled again. Still no answer.
Could he have gone to bed? Jess shook her head. He wasn’t one for early nights, she knew he didn’t sleep too well at the best of times.
She called the number again.
Still no answer.
Feeling a little more concerned than perhaps she should have and not knowing why she put down the phone and typed a quick e-mail to him.
Hey you … want to read the article? I’ll send it over now. Jess.
Message sent, the server assured her. Jess waited for the reply and as she did she hit his number on her phone once again and waited.
And waited.
Still nothing.
Even if he’d fallen asleep she told herself, surely the ringing of the phone would have woken him. Even if it had been on silent then the buzzing or vibration would have caused enough noise to rouse him. Wouldn’t it? Jess wasn’t sure why she was suddenly feeling so anxious or why she was equally desperate to hear the sound of Hadley’s voice. She looked at the computer screen as if the simple act of staring at it was going to provoke some response from Hadley by way of an e-mail.
It didn’t.
And now, in the stillness of the night she heard more sounds of movement from the direction of the flat’s door.
Jess got to her feet and padded towards the front door, leaving her own hall light off so as not to alert whoever was outside (the light from inside her flat was visible as a pinprick through the spyhole from the outside). She pushed her eye against the spyhole, her heart bumping hard.
The light in the stairwell still hadn’t come on, still hadn’t been activated by the movement of someone ascending or descending the steps but as she squinted more intently through the small aperture she was sure of one thing.
There was someone standing outside her door.
SIXTY-NINE
Jess stifled a gasp as she peered through the spyhole, trying to make out the size and features of whoever was standing outside her door.
In the gloom and with only the benefit of such a small hole to look through she couldn’t be sure about anything regarding the intruder. If indeed it was an intruder but then, why the hell would another resident of the building be standing motionless a few feet from her door just staring at the partition?
Jess remained up against her door, angry that she could see nothing more than a vague outline of whoever was outside.
She heard low whispering.
Her heart was beating faster now. She looked around.
For what? What the fuck are you looking for? Something to attack them with? Something to defend yourself with?
If there was whispering, she told herself then there must be more than one person out there on the stairs and in the passageway. But had she heard the muted sounds correctly or had her mind simply been playing tricks on her? Was she even completely sure that there was a figure out there? In the blackness it was almost impossible to tell. Dull light filtered into the passageway from a picture window built into the outside wall of the building but it didn’t allow enough illumination to be completely sure of the size, build or appearance of the figure she was increasingly sure was standing outside her door.
In order for someone not resident in the building to get inside they would have had to break in she told herself. Unless they’d slipped in when a resident had entered, perhaps posing as a visitor. Thoughts and ideas tumbled through Jess’s mind without any kind of logic or coherence. A mind flooded with fear tends not to be logical.
Why hadn’t the sensor in the stairwell or hall caused the lights to come on when this intruder had been climbing the steps? Had it been disabled? Smashed?
Jess kept her eye to the spyhole, not daring to move her gaze from the figure that was still merely standing motionless before her door.
Like a statue?
She felt a shiver run down her spine.
That’s what you wanted isn’t it?
Jess peered more closely, her eye shoved up hard against the spyhole as if she was a scientist peering through a microscope at the cure for cancer.
Like a statue.
It couldn’t be, surely. Had Voronov sent the creature after her? Was it the Golem that was standing out there on her landing? If it was, she reasoned, then nothing would be able to protect her. There would be no fighting back against this monstrosity. Except, she told herself, with speed. Perhaps she could outrun it. If she could slip past it and …
She took a deep breath and tried to control her racing imagination.
She hadn’t got a clue who or what was outside her door. There might be nothing there. It could be a trick of the light.
And the whispering?
Air rushing up or down the stairs? A breeze perhaps?
Standing in the gloom like this didn’t exactly help her find a logical explanation. In times of fear and uncertainty, the conclusions the mind reached were invariably the worst and darkest.
Jess looked down and realised that she hadn’t locked the door when she came in.
Often she would leave it unlocked, satisfied that the main door downstairs that led into the entryway was secure and now, when she needed security more than ever, her door was unlocked. She wondered if she could turn the lock without alerting the figure outside. Dare she chance it? Moving with infinite slowness she slipped the chain into place, terrified that it might rattle when she let it go. It didn’t. She reached for the lock and prepared to turn it, her hand shaking.
If it is the Golem standing out there then all the locks and chains and bolts in the world won’t keep it out.
Jess rested her fingers on the lock and stood there motionless. Then, after what seemed like an age, she turned it very slowly to the right.
In that position she couldn’t see if whoever was outside had heard any movement. She didn’t know if they were aware that only two inches of wood
separated them now. She turned the lock a little further, peering through the gloom to see that the bolt was a fraction of an inch from sliding into the housing on the other side of the mechanism. There would be a click when that happened, she couldn’t avoid it. It would sound like a rifle shot in the silence. Jess kept on turning.
She almost screamed when the knock came on the door.
SEVENTY
Jess jumped back, her eyes wide and fixed on the door.
The knock had been light, almost apologetic.
She stood there in her narrow entryway shaking, the breath rasping in her throat.
There was another knock.
Jess reached forward and quickly turned the lock to its full extent.
Quite how that would save her now she had no idea but she moved closer to the spyhole again, noticing that the light in the stairwell had now come on. The two figures that stood outside her door were visible in the cold white glow. There were two men standing there, talking quietly, their voices barely louder than a whisper.
For a moment she thought about calling the police but then wondered just what the hell she was going to tell them. Two men were standing outside her door talking. It was hardly enough to get a dozen uniformed men hurtling round to rescue her was it?
Jess hesitated a moment longer then turned and hurried into the kitchen. She snatched the largest kitchen knife from the block on the worktop and held it before her, seeing her frightened reflection momentarily in the gleaming blade. Armed with the razor sharp steel she padded back towards the door.
She was within a few feet of it when it was knocked again.
The impact was louder this time. The strength of the blows stronger.
Jess swallowed hard and gripped the handle of the knife more tightly as she moved nearer to the spyhole once more.
Both of the men were still there and she saw one of them glance at his watch. The other was checking or sending a message on his mobile phone and when he’d finished he reached forward and again rapped on the door.
Jess stepped back slightly, one hand reaching for the door lock.
‘Who is it?’ she said, trying to hide the fact that her voice was shaking.
‘Miss Anderson?’ one of the men said. ‘Jessica Anderson?’
She heard the Eastern European accent and knew immediately where these men were from and who had sent them.
‘What do you want?’ she called, looking through the spyhole. ‘I was in bed.’
‘It is important that we speak with you,’ the first man said. ‘Will you open the door please?’
Jess was tempted to ask what might happen if she didn’t but she feared that might be tempting fate.
‘Wait a minute,’ she said, putting one hand behind her back to hide the knife. With her other hand she slowly unlocked the door, stepping back slightly in case either of the men tried to rush her. She glanced at the chain and prayed that it would be strong enough to hold if they did decide to rush her. She opened the door a fraction and peered through at the two men.
‘Who are you?’ she asked. ‘You know it’s one o’clock in the morning. I don’t usually get visitors at this time.’
The attempt at levity was wasted.
‘You must come with us,’ the first man said. ‘We were sent here to pick you up.’
‘Sent here by who? Andrei Voronov?’
‘Mr Voronov wants to speak with you,’ the second man explained.
‘What if I don’t want to speak to him?’ Jess said.
‘It is important,’ the second man said. ‘Please come with us now.’ He glanced down at her bare feet. ‘Put on your shoes.’
She eyed each man in turn and thought she saw the faintest hint of a smile on the lips of the second man.
‘I have to make a phone call first,’ she said.
The two men stood motionless as Jess took a step backwards.
‘We wait here,’ the first man told her.
Jess hurried to her phone and hit Spike’s number. It rang. And rang. When it went to voice-mail Jess tried to keep her voice steady.
‘Listen, Spike, it’s Jess, this is important,’ she said. ‘Call me in two hours. Ring me on this number in two hours. If there’s no answer, call the police and tell them to go to the Crystal Tower because that’s where I’ll be. Two hours from now, Spike.’
She cut the call.
As she turned she saw the first man standing in the doorway of the room.
‘Time to go,’ he said, flatly.
SEVENTY-ONE
The journey to the Crystal Tower took less than fifteen minutes.
At such an early hour of the morning the roads weren’t as choked with traffic as they would have been earlier and the black Audi moved effortlessly and silently along the capital’s thoroughfares.
The windows of the vehicle were tinted anyway but Jess didn’t feel much like looking out at the rest of the traffic or at passers-by. She was more concerned with the men inside the car. One had slid behind the steering wheel while the other had sat in the back seat next to her. He hadn’t said a word since they both settled themselves in the Audi, content with gazing blankly ahead. He and the driver had exchanged a few words in their own language which, obviously, had been indecipherable to Jess but she tried to content herself with the fact that their tone hadn’t seemed unduly urgent or harsh. She then shook her head realising how ridiculous her assumption had been. They could have been discussing how to rape and then murder her for all she knew. Just because they were doing it quietly didn’t make the possibility any less horrific.
Jess shifted uncomfortably in her seat and glanced at her watch. .
She swallowed hard and tried to convince herself that he had and that he was poised and ready.
You could be dead before then.
Jess ran a hand nervously through her hair.
‘How long have you worked for Voronov?’ she asked the man sitting next to her, wanting to break the silence just so she wasn’t turning over such disturbing thoughts in her mind.
He looked at her with an expression of bewilderment at first. As if she’d just asked him to explain Einstein’s Theory of Relativity or something similar but then his features seemed to soften a little.
‘I work for him for five years,’ he said.
‘Security?’ Jess asked. ‘You protect him?’
The man nodded.
‘Who does a man that powerful need protection from?’ Jess wanted to know.
‘Everyone,’ the man said, flatly.
‘Does he pay you well to look after him?’
The man merely looked at her for a moment then glanced out of a side window.
‘He’s had death threats, hasn’t he?’ Jess said. ‘In the past. I read somewhere that there’d been attempts on his life as well. Who tried to kill him?’
‘Enemies,’ the man told her.
‘And what happened to them?’
‘They don’t bother him any more,’ he told her, smiling thinly.
‘Does Mr Voronov think that I’m an enemy?’ she wanted to know. ‘Is that why he sent you get me?’
The man didn’t answer.
Jess felt her heart quicken its pace, noticing that they had finally reached their destination. The driver stopped the Audi outside the Crystal Tower and stepped out as did his companion. They stood close to the rear door as Jess joined them, walking swiftly across to the main doors and then on through into the foyer. One of the men pressed the Call button as they stood near the bank of lifts.
‘Maybe we should stick to the stairs,’ Jess said. ‘There’ve been problems with the lifts. I should know.’
‘You want to walk that far?’ the second man said, curtly. ‘Not time for stairs.’
The three of them rode the Executive Lift to the Penthouse floor.
As the doors slid open Jess walked out into the marble entryway, led by one of the men. He guided her towards one of the rooms and she thought she could hear talking coming from inside. That suspicion was
confirmed a moment later when the door swung open to reveal what looked like a conference room.
Seated at one end of the polished table at its centre was Andrei Voronov. There were two more security men in the room as well as the woman Jess had seen that afternoon and the man with the goatee who had been introduced as an interpreter.
Opposite them sat Alex Hadley.
SEVENTY-TWO
Jess made no attempt to conceal her surprise and, if she was honest, there was a degree of relief to her reaction as well. At least now she knew Hadley was alive.
Voronov gestured towards the chair next to Hadley and Jess sat down.
‘I see you were invited too,’ Hadley said, flatly, taking a sip from the glass of sparkling water that was on a coaster before him.
‘How long have you been here?’ Jess wanted to know.
‘Since Mr Voronov’s men picked me up,’ Hadley said. ‘About half an hour.’
‘I felt I should speak to you both,’ Voronov said, quietly. ‘Would you like something to drink, Miss Anderson?’
‘I would say a large vodka but I don’t think that would be wise,’ Jess answered. She looked at the assembled faces in the room. ‘Would someone mind telling me what the hell is going on? Why are we here?’ She nodded in Hadley’s direction.
‘You had questions you wanted to ask me this afternoon during the Press conference,’ Voronov told her. ‘It wasn’t convenient then.’
‘So you got us back here for a little private chat?’ Jess said. ‘That’s not usually your style is it, Mr Voronov? I thought if people or things became an inconvenience you usually just got rid of them. Or is that what you’ve got planned for us?’
Voronov smiled and took a sip from his own glass.
