Lasting Scars

by Lenny Brando

  Ian crept into the hall. The door to the lounge was open, and he glanced inside. The chained woman in the photograph regarded him with an accusatory stare. Ian stopped. Nobody expected him to be the hero. He wasn’t a latter day Perseus. And the police had warned him to leave. They’d be here any minute. The smart thing to do would be to leave. The right thing.

  Once he’d further justified his actions, Ian tiptoed to the front door. Just as he went to bolt for the safety of the street, a terrible scream echoed through the house.

  121

  Laura zoned out as Tim Burnham prattled on in the meeting. She crossed and uncrossed her legs. When no-one was looking, she took her phone from her bag and checked it. Two missed calls from DS Kapoor and a text. She frowned as she read the text. Lewis Cole now primary suspect in Madsen case. May be danger to her. Call immediately if you know where either of them are.

  She closed her eyes and put her head down. “Fuck,” she muttered.

  The room fell silent. “Something up Laura?” Burnham asked.

  Laura got to her feet. “Lewis Cole, the so called hero of South Kensington is now the main suspect in the Alice Madsen sexual assault case. The police think Alice may be in imminent danger.”

  Burnham waved at everybody to quell the murmurs. “Do you know where Madsen is?”

  “She may be at home.”

  Burnham pointed to the door. “Why are you still here? Get your crew over there now.”

  As she hurried from the meeting, Laura called Kapoor, but the phone went straight to voice mail, so Laura sent a text. I think Alice is at home. Not answering calls. Then Laura called Alice, but she didn't answer either. “Alice? It’s Laura. The police think Lewis Cole is the guy who assaulted you. Don't let him into your house. And don't answer the door to any deliveries.”

  Minutes later they were in the van heading to Portobello. Laura fidgeted in the front. She gripped her phone tight and willed Alice to call. A terrible feeling settled over Laura, yet she couldn't put a name to it. It just felt wrong.

  “You all right Laura?” Ricky asked.

  “I think I helped Lewis Cole get to Alice.”

  “You couldn't have known that.”

  “Thanks.” She winced and looked away as she found a name for her rotten feeling. There was little doubt in her mind. Laura had told Cole where Alice was, and worse, she had known what she was doing, even if only on a subconscious level. Now she wanted to bury her head in her hands and pretend none of this had happened. But that would be pointless.

  After several deep breaths and curious looks from the others, she recovered her professionalism and convinced herself she had done nothing to purposely endanger Alice. Not giving Kapoor Cole’s new number was an oversight, nothing more. Just to be on the safe side of ass covering, she forwarded the text from Cole to Kapoor and added a follow up. Dunno if this is any use?

  Then she noticed her fingers hurt from holding the phone too tight, and she relaxed her grip. What the hell was happening to her? She reminded herself of what Ricky had said. She nodded at her ghostly reflection in the windscreen. Don't get a conscience, get a story. It made her feel better.

  122

  DS Kapoor banged hard on the dashboard. The siren wailed and the lights flashed, but that didn't make the traffic move.

  “C’mon Liz. Get us the hell out of here.”

  “Jeez. I’m trying.”

  “Keep your hand on the damn horn.”

  “Like that will make a difference.”

  Kapoor opened the door and waved at the traffic ahead. Vehicles made half-hearted efforts to pull aside. Kapoor jumped back in and their car inched forward. Two more marked police cars followed behind. Their lights and sirens blazed to no avail either.

  The radio crackled, and Kapoor spoke rapidly. “Where are SCO19? Tell them to fucking move it… Say again? Yes... Yes… Yes. Now dammit. Over.”

  “Hang on,” Manning said. “We’ve got a gap.”

  Kapoor pulled on her seat belt and snapped it into place as the car surged forward. The gap between vehicles in front looked narrow.

  “Go for it,” Kapoor said.

  Manning went for it. Kapoor didn't flinch as a wing mirror came off another car with a loud crack. She turned to Manning. “At least it wasn't ours.”

  “Yeah. I know,” Manning said. “Think of the paperwork we saved.”

  “How long?”

  “I don’t know. Six, maybe seven minutes. If we’re lucky.”

  “Christ. That’s too long. Let me talk to Notting Hill.”

  “Are SCO19 to wait?”

  “No. Anyone in the area should go there now. Smash the fucking door down.”

  The traffic cleared ahead, and the car accelerated. Out of nowhere, a white van pulled out in front of them. Kapoor put out her hands instinctively as their car swerved. But Manning couldn't avoid hitting the van with a bone jarring crunch, and the car came to a halt.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Manning said.

  The cars behind stopped. Kapoor opened the door. “Let’s go.”

  “What? We can’t just leave.”

  “Oh yes we can. One of that lot behind can stay and sort out the mess.”

  Kapoor leapt out and ran to the car behind. “You in the back. Out. Take care of the mess. DC Manning has left the keys for you.”

  The uniformed officer sulked off and Kapoor took his seat in the car. Manning squeezed in on the other side.

  “Let’s go,” Kapoor said. “Come on. Go. Go. Go.”

  As they sped away, Kapoor looked back to see the white van do a U turn and drive away in the opposite direction. She looked over at Manning. “What was that you said about paperwork?”

  123

  Alice lay face down on the bed, with her head buried sideways in the pillow. The tape across her mouth partially blocked her nose and made it difficult to breathe. It flapped every time she exhaled. Fear had cowed her into submission. The other reason she complied with Cole was that she expected Ian to come to her rescue at any minute. Charging in to subdue Cole and make everything right again.

  She shivered as Cole ran his rough hands down her back. The realisation that Ian may not prove so gallant dawned on her. But he would at least have called the police. She blinked rapidly when she felt Cole’s hand worm its way between her thighs, rubbing against her through the flimsy material of her thong.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him remove his jeans and underwear. Next thing, he was on top of her. He pressed down and rubbed against her. Then he stopped and took off his top. Now he was naked, and he lay on her again. He thrust his pelvis up and down.

  And Alice couldn't take it anymore. This time, she’d take death over giving some bastard the satisfaction of conquest. She brought her hand up and ripped off the gag. Before Cole did anything, she let out the loudest blood-curdling scream she could muster.

  Alice bucked, kicked and swung her arms with all the energy she could muster. Then she pushed up in a sudden movement. Cole rolled off her. He fell to the floor with a thump.

  “You bastard,” she shouted. She jumped on top of him and pummelled him in the face with her fists. Adrenalin fuelled insults screamed from deep inside her. “Ugly loser.” Each came with a blow to Cole’s face. “Fucking creep.”

  But the blows appeared ineffective. Cole’s hands grappled with her wrists. She dodged him at first. Then he grabbed a hold of her right arm. His grip dug in and hurt her. He swung a fist back and slammed it into her midriff. “I am not ugly,” Cole said.

  Shock and pain rocked her, and she doubled over. She gasped for breath and Cole pushed her to the floor. “Girls love me.” Cole got to his feet and made a move for his bag.

  Alice tried to sit up, but she struggled for breath. She saw Cole reach to his bag and pick up the knife. Then he waved the mace at her. “Remember this, bitch? You know what? It’s payback time.”

  While he fiddled with the spray, a roar came from the landing and the bedroom door burst open. Ian charged
into the room. With his face contorted with rage, he brandished a hammer in the air. He ran straight at Cole. Cole dropped the mace, and it rolled under the bed.

  Ian swung at Cole but missed. Cole dodged back towards the window. Alice watched Ian’s eyes look to the long serrated knife in Cole’s hand. She saw the fear in Ian’s face. But Ian didn't run. Ian swung again.

  Cole stepped sideways and laughed. He danced like a boxer and his deflating penis swung from side to side. Cole pointed the knife at Ian. “This is for you, mate. And this…” He grabbed his genitals with the other hand, “This is for Alice. And you know what, mate? She’s gonna love it. All girls love it. Isn't that right, Alice?”

  “I hate it,” Alice said.

  “See, mate,” Cole said to Ian. “That’s your problem right there. You don't give her enough. Once she gets a taste for mine, she’ll take it every opportunity she can. I’ll sort her out for you. Be doing you a favour and all.”

  Ian roared again. “Leave her alone, you… you horrible...”

  “Come on then,” Cole said. “Let’s have you.”

  Alice tried to grab the can of mace, but it was out of reach. She scrambled to her feet. Her mouth dropped as she watched Ian lunge at Cole. The hammer hit Cole on the shoulder, but he ignored the blow. It was like he was immune to pain.

  As Ian raised the hammer again, Cole shoved the knife into Ian’s stomach. When he withdrew it, blood dripped from the jagged edges. Ian dropped the hammer and made a strange moaning noise. He staggered backwards. “Ian, Ian,” whispered Alice. Her mouth opened wide. Time slowed. Every nerve in her body tingled. A loud buzzing noise reverberated inside her head. Raw, unadulterated shock and horror threatened to immobilise her. But she refused to yield. Alice rubbed the scars on her wrist and took a deep breath. With a determined nod, she searched deep within herself for the fervency she’d lost years ago. She looked at Cole and realised she had minutes to find it.

  124

  Cole stared at the bloody knife. Drops of blood fell to the carpet. He ran his tongue along the side of the knife. It tasted odd but beautiful. The wannabe hero boyfriend lay on the floor clutching his midriff. Trying to stop the flow of blood. Going by the growing pool soaking into the carpet, he wasn't having much success.

  He turned to Alice. “Now look what you made me do. This is all your fault. This whole damn mess. Right from the beginning. You could have been nice to Daz and me. Instead, you got your Jihadi mate in the van to do Daz. You told him that, didn’t you? Speaking in fucking foreign so we wouldn’t understand. You wanted to kill me and all. You may have conned the police, but you don't con me. What comes around, eh?”

  “I did nothing wrong.” Her voice was low and trembling. “I don’t know you or this Daz person…”

  “He was my twin fucking brother, and it's your fault he’s dead.”

  “No, it’s not. I hate those terrorists too.” Her voice sounded stronger, and she stood a little straighter. “But you… You’re just like them. The same.”

  Cole paused. “What? How can you say that? I’m not like them. I’m a hero. They said that on TV.” He pointed the bloody knife at her. “You. You’re one of the bad ones.”

  Alice made a scoffing noise. “You can't handle women. You’re afraid of us. Without violence, you are nothing.” She spat at him and he jerked his head back. He looked at her with his head askew. Still she ranted on “…no girl would want you. You’re a loser. And we girls have the real power over idiots like you.”

  Cole looked at her. She stood there, wearing only a thong, defiant and proud, as if he no longer frightened her. By doing so, he was sure she was dissing him again, and Cole felt his hate and anger rise. “A loser like him? Ian, is it?” Cole asked, pointing to Ian. “He don’t look much like he’s winning to me. So, fuck you, bitch. I ain’t no fucking loser.” He leaned closer to Ian. “See? I can piss all over this loser, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. Where’s your power now, eh? Come on then, girly power. Stop me.” Cole tried to relax his bladder, but piss wouldn’t come. He snarled at himself and turned to Alice. “All right. Let’s fuck instead. The bleeding loser can watch.”

  Cole moved in on Alice. She backed up against the bed and Cole laughed. “You’re going nowhere.”

  Then an almighty pain hit his foot. And again. He roared. The bastard boyfriend had whacked his foot with the hammer. Twice. It hurt so bad, he must have smashed a bone. The knife fell as he grabbed his foot. He jumped back, but Ian had collapsed onto the floor, as if he had used the last of his fading energy. Cole fell to the ground with a thump and his vision spun as he lay there.

  The sound of breaking glass concentrated Cole’s gaze. Alice held the wine glass by the stem. The top had broken off and sharp edges protruded. Wine trickled down her hand.

  Then Alice bent down and picked up Cole’s knife. She took a step towards him as sirens sounded in the distance.

  125

  Alice advanced on Cole as he lay prostrate on the floor. Her eyes never left his. She stared down into his soul, and darkness greeted her.

  Cole laughed at her. “You ain't got the bottle.”

  Alice said nothing. She took another few steps until she stood over him. “Is this what you want?” She pushed the knife under the elastic of her thong as if she would cut it. Cole’s dilated eyes switched to the space between her legs. Then she crouched a little closer to him. His eyes opened wider, and he stared as if fixated by the sight. “Cut them off,” he said. “Let me see it.”

  “You want it?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Y..Yes.”

  “Then put your hands behind your head.”

  Ian moaned, but she ignored him. She concentrated on Cole, watching the emotions flicker across his face. Hope. Lust. Perhaps even twisted love.

  She smiled at him.

  He smiled back. “Cut your panties off.”

  “Oh yeah? Who is in control, now?” She pushed her hips forward. “Who?”

  “You are.”

  Alice looked into his eyes. She saw places and people gathered in his pupils. Ved Volden. Gronning and Pederson. Her mother. The Provence. Samir Hassan. A jail cell. DI Marks. She nodded once. She tightened her grip on the stem of the broken glass.

  “Come on.” Cole’s voice was low. “Show me you want me.”

  “No, Alice.” Ian whispered. “Don't.” She looked over to him, and he shook his head. The sirens were closer, and he pointed to his ear. “Police.”

  “I have to,” she said. Alice shoved the broken glass into Cole’s crotch. He screamed. She jabbed the glass at his testicles and blood spurted out. His erect penis shrivelled, and she stabbed the glass into it. Cole tried to move away. His screams filled the room. He grabbed the hammer from Ian’s hand and half sat up. With a desperate swing, he aimed it at Alice, but he missed and rolled over. Then he put his hands on the carpet to push himself up. Alice looked down at his bloody genitals. He’d live. The cuts weren’t that deep.

  Cole seemed to realise the same thing. He had the hammer in his hand. “You cunt,” he screamed. “I will bash your fucking head in.”

  Alice didn't give him the chance. She plunged the knife into Cole’s chest. It hit two ribs with a jolt and wouldn't penetrate further. He gasped. She twisted the knife and stabbed him again, lower this time, into the soft flesh at the base of the ribs. This time the knife went in deep.

  He swung the hammer at her. It slammed into her knee. She shrieked as the pain shot up her leg. He grabbed her and pulled her close. She stabbed him again with every bit of strength she had. The knife cut into his stomach, biting all the way to the hilt. When she withdrew the knife, the serrated edges ripped bits of Cole’s insides out. A flood of dark red blood oozed from the cut. He looked down at the wound with a confused expression.

  “Daz,” he murmured. “It was all supposed to be for Daz.” He gurgled and blood seeped from his mouth. Still he tried to speak. His voice was raspy and low. “... laundry... supposed to collect it...” Then he
slumped down.

  Alice stepped back. She dropped the knife and went to Ian. She heard banging downstairs. Ian turned to her. He coughed and blood splattered onto Alice’s face. “You should get dressed.” Ian tried to smile. “God knows what the police will think.”

  She pulled on her robe and tied it. A great crash sounded in the hall. She heard shouts of ‘armed police’ and the beat of feet stomping up the stairs. Alice held on to Ian and whispered. “I’m so sorry.” He fumbled for her hand and she squeezed it tight.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “The guy deserved it.”

  “I’m not sorry for him, I’m sorry for you.”

  He nodded. His voice sounded hoarse and weak. “In... in case I don’t... I... I love you.”

  She looked at him through tear-filled eyes. “I love you too Ian. Don’t... no...”

  Ian closed his eyes and fell limp in her arms.

  Alice stared into space as the bedroom filled with men and guns.

  126

  Kapoor looked into the hospital room and saw Ian propped up in the bed reading. She knocked on the open door and he looked up.

  “All right if I come in?” she asked.

  He put the book down. “Sure.”

  She pulled up a chair and sat by the bed. “So, how are you?”

  “Getting there. The physio is difficult. Still hurts to walk.”

  “You gotta keep at it, huh?”

  He nodded. “You drop by to see how I am, or is there something else?”

  “I’m here more in a private capacity. The techs recovered a lot of stuff from Lewis Cole’s phone and we’re tying up loose ends, chasing connections.”

  “Why? I thought he was a loner?”

  “We’re investigating people who encouraged him to attack Alice.”

  “Good luck with that. You want to fill up all the jails? Did you see what people posted on social media? Are you going to prosecute all of them?”