So, I kept contact with my angel, and, in a way, every time I saw Charlie after the release of killing a target, it gave me a thrill. As if she silently celebrated with me. As if my angel shone down on me and acknowledged my mastery over life and death. I saw in her eyes that she enjoyed this as much as I did. How did I know she felt this way? I could see it in her smile. In her lips. In her lovely, almond eyes and the way they looked at me. It spoke so much more than words. It was the silent communication between two linked souls. Her silent blessing.
When Charlie decided to put an end to her secret life, she confided in me. Told me she intended to confess to her husband and that she hoped he would forgive her. Of course he would. The man was besotted with Charlotte. He would give her the moon if he was able.
But without her own secrets, would Charlotte turn against our alliance? Would she stop condoning my activities? Would I see a change in her eyes once she walked on the straight path and I continued on the dark? These fears turned me. I could not lose her. I craved the attention of my angel.
I was invited for drinks by Martin and in one glance I saw how Charlotte had transformed. She no longer regarded me as an accomplice, though she had no knowledge of my activities, I knew in my heart that she knew. And now I was an outsider. Now she looked at me coldly and with displeasure.
When I took the gun from my pocket, I saw in Martin confusion, then disbelief, and then rage. He started shouting as if he believed his intellect would be sufficient to win superiority. How idiotic. Charlotte was quicker to understand the danger, though I closed my ears to her pleading. I killed him with one shot. Pam.
And that’s when those lovely almond eyes looked at me with loathing and so I set at her with the blade. Charlie tried to crawl, dragging herself along the carpet towards her husband. That so enraged me, I attacked her with plunge after plunge until she lay silent in a pool of blood, unable to reach him in her dying moments.
It would have been over then if it hadn’t been for the girl on the stairs. The girl with the same almond eyes as her mother. Who looked at me with innocence and terror. I knew then I would do everything in my power to cultivate her. Until the time came for her to take Charlotte’s place.
Chapter Forty-six
Kaufman’s last words rang in Marty’s ears.
‘I’ve given you both the same poison. If you don’t get the antidote within twenty-four hours you’ll be dead.’
Kaufman had driven them to a deserted house in the middle of the countryside. Marty had bitten the inside of her mouth and pinched herself to try to keep conscious, only she’d still blacked out and missed chunks of the journey. She remembered bouncing along a rutted track and then the next thing she knew, she and Seb were shoved into a dark basement and the door slammed shut.
Seb had fallen down the steps, incapable of speaking, or of moving his arms and legs, and Marty had managed to get her body beneath him as she tumbled too. She’d landed hard onto packed earth with the light body of Seb falling on top of her. What worried Marty most was Seb’s breathing which was shallow, and his heart beat seemed weak and rapid. If Kaufman were telling the truth, she had to get out of this place and get help and Seb was frail – he might have much less than twenty-four hours.
Marty was furious. Furious with herself for falling into Kaufman’s trap and furious that the life of Seb hung in the balance. She would rip down the walls with her bare hands if she needed to. Anything to get Seb help.
Marty dragged herself to standing, grazing the skin off both her knees. Like the biting and the pinching, it seemed to clear her head a little and she guessed her bodily chemicals were working against whatever Kaufman had injected her with. She must find a way to enhance that, yes, get her body to work for her against the drugs.
Getting back down on the floor, Marty started doing push ups. She was breathless and clumsy and she managed twenty. Then she changed to sit ups. Twenty. Then back to push ups. Twenty-five. Then sit-ups. Thirty. It was working. The more she sweated and the more her body heated up and worked hard, the more Marty’s head cleared and her arms and legs began to feel normal.
Marty checked Seb’s breathing and heart rate again. Though she had no way of knowing for sure, she felt certain his breathing rate had decreased. Shit. They were running out of time.
Marty inspected the cellar. The door was firmly locked, solid, and showed no signs of weakness. Thick, immovable, floorboards made up the ceiling and a small amount of light filtered down through the cracks. Marty found a plank of wood in the corner on the cellar and she banged systematically on each plank of the ceiling. None of the boards showed signs of being loose. The only other possible exit was a metal grille a little above eye level, probably put there for ventilation. Marty hoped it would lead to the exterior of the house. The light coming through it was dimmed though she didn’t remember it being dark outside. It would be just about big enough to get through.
There was nothing to stand on and Marty used her arms to pull herself up, thanking whatever lucky stars she had that she’d been working out daily in her recuperation. From the little she could see, the grille did lead outside, though she had no way of seeing clearly what lay beyond.
With the plank of wood, she set to work on the sides of the grille, where it was attached to the brickwork. This was its weakest point because water had entered over time and started to crumble the bricks. Marty smashed at the edges of the bricks, breaking them away little by little, allowing herself to rest only when she could no longer hold the plank above her head. Her arms shook and when she got so weak she dropped the plank, Marty went back to Seb to check him and talk to him, massaging his face to see if he would respond.
‘Please don’t die, Seb. Hang on. I’m getting you out of here.’
Each time she checked Seb it spurred Marty on. Each time she went back to the attack on the grille determined to keep going at all costs. A burning thirst grew in Marty’s throat. She ignored it. Ignored too the blisters on her hands that started to bleed. Ignored the giant splinters. The bricks at the bottom had released the grille completely but she couldn’t get it free at the top, nor at the sides. Shit.
Marty crouched panting and wiped the sweat out of her eyes. If she could release it on one side, she’d have a chance of kicking the grille in if she could manage to haul herself up there. She wouldn’t allow herself to collapse.
Seb’s skin was damp and clammy. What if he were slipping into a coma? What if his heart gave out? What if Kaufman was telling the truth, and there was some kind of toxin working its way through Seb’s body? What if he died before she had chance to- No, she mustn’t think like that. She had to get them out. But Marty knew her stamina was running low. She couldn’t keep going much longer with the plank. She must get up there and give it everything she had left.
Marty rewrapped the cloth from her hospital gown around her hands. It was soaked with blood. She did it slowly, gathering her mental strength.
‘This is it, Seb,’ she said. ‘We’re getting out of here. Wish me luck.’
She took a deep breath, reached up with both hands and took a firm grip on the grille. She pulled herself up until her body weight rested awkwardly on the sill of the brickwork. She’d have one chance and if it didn’t work, the force from her own strike would propel her back onto the floor of the basement – which would likely injure her. If it worked, she’d go with the force of her own kick through the opening, hoping not to hurt herself in any fall, should the opening prove to let out onto a drop, and hoping not to get ripped to shreds should the grille remain attached at the top. The odds didn’t sound encouraging. Don’t think about it, Marty told herself. Just do it.
Seb made a horrible gurgling sound, and Marty clenched her muscles and with a roar, let fly a mighty kick with both her feet. Her soles impacted the grille and it flew away at the bottom where it was already loose, and the force ripped it away on both sides, so that Marty found her legs flying out into space. She didn’t try to stop them. Marty let her body fo
llow her legs through the opening, slowing herself down by grabbing onto the brickwork.
The metal grille remained partly attached at the top and it ripped her skin off as she scraped through. Her head banged on the brickwork and she didn’t care. She felt her legs in space and then she fell, landing on a bank covered in tall weeds. For a moment, she lay dazed, staring up at a sky studded with clouds.
Marty sat up, suddenly alert. It looked as if the house were surrounded by farmland. She could hear a low drone – the sound of a distant car – which meant there was a road and she’d be able to get there.
Twenty minutes later, Marty walked along the edge of a field with Seb over her shoulder. It hadn’t been easy getting back inside the cellar, but she’d found something to stand on and managed to crawl back through the opening. Seb was so light and she’d lifted him with ease. In the daylight, the boy looked grey and close to death. When Marty finally flagged down a car, the couple inside were aghast. They took Marty and Seb straight to the nearest accident and emergency.
‘He’s been poisoned,’ Marty told the medical staff. ‘Injected with something toxic.’
Once her own hands were bandaged and she’d been given clothes, Marty waited outside for LeeMing. It wasn’t long before she heard the sound of his motorbike, and he wasted no time in asking questions. LeeMing handed her a helmet and Marty got on the back and the two of them made straight for Lilac Mansions.
Chapter Forty-seven
Kaufman gripped the steering wheel. The dreamers were always easy to work with. They were so susceptible to auto-suggestion, or hypnosis, as people still liked to call it. Whereas Marty King, in Kaufman’s assessment, would have been impossible to subdue. He’d come back and deal with her and the boy later.
In contrast, like mother like daughter, Kaufman found Sophie one of the easiest to subdue, drinking in his autosuggestion like a baby draws in milk, so that their weekly consultations at Melrose had been a pleasure. The older Sophie got, the more she resembled her mother. That had made their time together even more enchanting. Arthur Connell had been speechless the first time he’d seen Sophie – later telling Kaufman it had been like walking into a room and finding Charlotte there.
When Kaufman received Sophie’s call at the clinic, he knew their time was up.
‘Meet me at my parent’s house,’ was all Sophie said.
‘Of course, my dear,’ Kaufman replied. He put down the phone. ‘And today, you will take your mother’s place and look at me for the last time with the eyes of an angel.’
Chapter Forty-eight
The door was open and Kaufman saw Charlie and Sophie sitting on the stairs.
‘Hello, my dear.’
‘Stay exactly where you are,’ Sophie said.
Kaufman shrugged his shoulders. It looked like the girl’s memory had returned. He could see it in her face and in the change in her. He’d been fighting a losing battle against that happening these last months. Finishing Penny and then Eliza to stop Sophie ever leaving him. It hadn’t been enough. And yet Sophie was still so predictable, so like her little friend, Eliza, who’d been trusting right until the end – so easy to manipulate and play with. Kaufman licked his lips.
‘I’m much stronger now,’ Sophie said.
‘Of course you are,’ Kaufman said. ‘And you are so much like your mother.’
‘Is that why you haven’t killed me yet?’
‘Goodness, what an imagination you have. I suppose you won’t believe me but it’s the truth that Eliza took her own life.’
‘Monster. You knew my memories kept trying to come back. That I was slipping from your control. And Penny and Eliza were helping me leave Melrose and then I’d remember the truth. You kept me weak all this time.’
‘You’re fragile, Sophie. You have a frail disposition and you need care. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.’
‘Shut up! All those drugs you had me on right from the beginning. It was you who kept me weak. You’re the one who kept me frail.’
‘You haven’t been on any real medication for years, only dummy drugs. So it wasn’t me who kept you weak, you did it to yourself.’
That got to her. Kaufman saw Sophie’s suspicion and he saw he’d created a tiny sliver of doubt. Good. He’d started to break down her resolve already. She was so easy. Soon she’d crumple like a pack of cards.
‘Come now, my dear, I can explain everything.’ And Kaufman took a few steps across the hallway.
‘I told you to stay where you are.’
The girl’s voice sounded steady and it made Kaufman pause. He would not have expected her to gain so much strength in so little time away from him. That was the trouble when people slipped from your control. He pressed his lips together.
Charlie’s flower mural decorated the wall of the entrance and Kaufman ran his fingers over the blue and purple flowers. ‘Charlie was a gifted artist.’ He stared straight at Sophie. ‘And a prostitute.’
Sophie laughed. ‘Oh, don’t think you can shake me so easily. I’ve known about that for years. Is it why you killed her? Did she turn you down?’
Kaufman clenched his fists. ‘Charlotte knew what I was – she was the only one who knew! She could see it in my soul.’
‘And you’re the one who calls me sick? You’re an evil killer and one hell of a sick bastard. My mother would’ve been the first to turn you in if she’d known-’
He interrupted in a low tone. ‘I’ve got Seb.’
That hit her – slammed her straight in the face as if he’d smacked her against a wall. He enjoyed the horror in her expression.
‘You’re lying.’ Sophie said it with bravado, with her chin up, and he smiled again at how she tried to mask her doubts.
‘I’ve a video of him unconscious. I’ve injected him with a toxin and If he doesn’t get the anti-dote, he’ll die.’
Kaufman held out his phone and climbed the first three steps of the stairs. On the screen was a shot of Seb, his face ashen, drool running down his chin.
‘Everything I tell you is true. So, you see, Sophie, our time is running out. If you come with me back to Melrose, I promise everything will be alright. I’ll let Seb go and you and I will go back to how we were before.’
As Sophie’s hand flew to her mouth, Kaufman started to talk to her in a low voice, in the special way he’d cultured during their years in the consultation room. In auto-suggestion, the tone is as important at the words. Yet Kaufman knew too which words would slip through Sophie’s defences and build her anxiety. The right words to make her crumble inside. That would make her so helpless she’d need to reach out to her doctor for help. And, of course, her doctor would be there. As he spoke, Kaufman crept up the stairs.
Sophie pressed her hands over her ears. The bastard had Seb. Please no, that couldn’t be true. But what if it was? What if Seb were right now lying somewhere barely breathing? What if Kaufman had already killed him? Kaufman was treading slowly up the stairs. She could see his shiny shoes on the red carpet, just like she’d seen them all those years ago, coming closer.
Sophie shook her head to try to get rid of Kaufman’s voice. It was getting inside her head. No, it was inside her head. It was the voice that always invaded her mind. Kaufman’s lips moved, yet his voice sounded inside her. How could that be? No! She had nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.
‘Everything will be fine. Come back with me to Melrose and everything will be all right.’
Sophie thought of the pepper spray. Thought of reaching her hand inside the purse and she really wanted to but she couldn’t move and then… Kaufman stood in front of her and she tried to speak, tried to ask him about Seb.
‘Ssshh,’ Kaufman said with a smile, his index finger on his lips. ‘Come with me and everything will be fine.’
Sophie thought again of slipping her hand into the purse but she was shaking too much and she couldn’t think. Her mind had turned to jelly. Nothing made sense. What could she do except surrender? Give up. Kaufman had always been stronger.
Always been able to dominate her. Make her think as he wanted. Make her do as he wanted. Tears rolled down Sophie’s cheeks, and instead of her hand moving to her purse, it rose up to meet Kaufman, and she allowed her doctor to take her hand.
***
Kaufman swallowed his saliva. His arousal had already started.
‘See? Everything I say is true.’ He gazed at Sophie lying prone on the chaise longue and began to arrange her golden hair on the cushions.
‘I didn’t have my chance with your mother. You look so much like her, did you know that? It was a comfort having you close by at the clinic. Every day I could see her in your eyes.’
Yes, Kaufman wanted Charlies’ eyes fixed on him in death. He’d been robbed of that once and he wouldn’t let it happen again.
Chapter Forty-nine
Kal parked at the end of the road and approached Lilac Mansions on foot. When she saw a car standing on the front driveway, the hairs on Kal’s arms stood on end – Kaufman, she presumed. Which meant he was inside. Was Sophie inside too? Who had arrived first? What was happening in there? Was Kaufman after Sophie? Or was Sophie after Kaufman?
Kal followed the glowing line of night lights to the front door. There were no sounds, just the silence of the night and damp, countryside air. No house lights were on and Kal crouched outside the window of a downstairs room.
Kal cursed herself. If she had devoted all her attention to Sophie, she’d have realised Kaufman was the killer a long time ago. Instead, she’d allowed herself to be siphoned off by Raphael. She’d wanted to take Raphael’s bait. Wanted to prove herself and, my God, she was a fool. She’d let Sophie down and, worse, Kal had a horrible feeling Sophie’s memories had returned. What if the girl remembered what happened the night of the murders? What if she decided to take things into her own hands? Why else would Sophie have left 701? And why else would she come back here alone? Except to face the killer. Kal shivered. She must be stealthy. She must be silent – not a twig, not a crunch of gravel, no giveaway grate of a shoe – no man-made noise must alert those inside she was coming. Kal felt herself go cool and calm inside.
London Noir: A gripping crime suspense thriller (Kal Medi Book 2) Page 20
