“Don’t try that again, Cotton, or I’ll break your arms.” snarled Olivia.
She grabbed the handcuffs and pulled Jennifer’s arms up high behind her.
“All right, Freneton!” screamed Jennifer, as she squirmed and wriggled, her shoulder sockets electric with pain. “You’ve made your point, you sadistic bitch. I can walk without your help.”
“Through there and up the stairs, then turn left,” said Olivia, pushing her towards the villa’s main doors.
Taking care not to trip on the chains, Jennifer hauled herself up the stairs and turned into a wide corridor with several rooms leading off it.
“All the way to the end,” barked Olivia. She was two steps behind her. “And don’t forget the taser in my hand.”
As soon as she saw the piles of wood and card scattered around the room, Jennifer understood what Olivia had in mind. She stopped in the doorway, fear overwhelming her, strength draining from her legs.
Olivia prodded her in the back with the taser.
“Impressive, don’t you think?” she gloated. “And all for you. It’s carefully laid to minimise the smoke. There’ll just be plenty of flame and heat. Imagine how painful that will be. Now get over to that chair and sit down.” She pointed to the office chair she had previously chained to the radiator pipe.
In response, Jennifer turned, trying to face Olivia, but all she saw were the taser terminals thrust into her face.
“I’m sorely tempted to discharge this taser directly into your eyes, Cotton, just to see the effect. Do you want to be my guinea pig?”
Jennifer could feel her pulse racing, every nerve in her body on edge, waiting, but there was no opportunity to act without the retaliation being severe.
She shuffled over to the chair and sat as she had been instructed.
Olivia moved behind her and looped a strong chain around the links connecting the handcuffs, and, using a padlock, she secured the two ends together around the backrest support, binding Jennifer tightly to the chair.
She stood back to admire her handiwork. Cotton was completely secure: it would take heavy-duty bolt cutters to free her from those chains. There was certainly no way she would be able to free herself. She checked the time: twelve thirty. Plenty of time to return to the rented villa and wait for Connie’s return. And tomorrow? Tomorrow her months of conditioning and manipulating Connie Fairbright, her months of putting up with her drivel, her months of fine-tuning Connie’s life to her own purposes, would all come to fruition. She would walk away richer than she’d ever imagined, leaving the bodies of her victims behind her.
Olivia cupped a hand under Jennifer’s chin, confident for the first time there would be no retaliation. She studied her bruised and bloodied face. Her right eye was swollen and half closed from the slap; her nose still bleeding slightly. She had been intending to slap her a few more times, but on inspecting her handiwork, she decided that the message written on Jennifer’s face was strong enough to induce Connie to comply with her demands. Any sign of resistance from Connie and Olivia would enhance Jennifer’s pain. It was a perfect plan.
Chapter Forty
When Connie returned that evening, Olivia was determined to limit how much time she’d spend listening to the endless tales of galleries, dealers, new artists discovered and paintings bought. While it was their last night together and she should grit her teeth and be patient, her plan was now underway and she was finding it hard to maintain her guise of the enthusiastic companion. She had had enough and wanted the seclusion of her room to run over all her plans one final time.
She allowed Connie an hour of non-stop tales, culminating with her proudly displaying the five portraits she had brought back with her. Olivia made all the right noises and agreed on their excellence — although all she could really see in them were dollar signs — after which she feigned a headache and went to her room, leaving Connie to store the paintings in the safe.
The following morning when she came down, Olivia was surprised to find Connie already up and sitting on the balcony nursing a mug of coffee.
“You’re up early, Connie. Have you had any breakfast?”
Connie turned to her, studying her face. She took a breath and smiled. “No, I was waiting for you. I don’t actually think I want much; I just want to get up to the villa. I’m intrigued to know what you’ve been up to.”
Olivia forced an enigmatic smile that hid her unease. Connie sounded different, her voice thicker, and even though she had smiled, it was only with her mouth; her eyes were saying something else.
“All in good time,” she said at last, trying as ever to keep the upper hand over her employer. “Now my head’s stopped thumping, I’m rather hungry. I feel like some eggs; sure you won’t join me?”
It was going to be a long day and she wasn’t sure when she’d next get the chance to eat.
“Just some yoghurt and grains, I think. And of course, another coffee,” replied Connie, standing.
Olivia reached out and took her mug. “I’ll fetch it. Why don’t you stay here and enjoy this wonderful morning? The sun’s glorious.”
But Connie didn’t sit down. “I think I’ll take my shower,” she said. “I won’t be long.”
When Connie walked into the kitchen after her shower, Olivia was at the breakfast bar with a plate of scrambled eggs, a mug of steaming coffee next to her. But her mind was elsewhere as she reflected on the day ahead, possibly the most important day of her life. If things went as she expected — and why shouldn’t they given her meticulous planning? — it should be the most lucrative day of her life as well.
She looked up as Connie’s footsteps interrupted her thoughts.
“There you are,” she said, reaching over to press the button on the coffee maker. “Are you sure you won’t have some?” She pointed with her fork to the plate.
“Quite sure, Diana, thanks,” said Connie, as she waited in front of the coffee maker while it filled her mug.
To Olivia’s finely tuned ear, Connie still sounded distracted. She needed to lighten her mood.
“I was thinking again about the paintings you brought back from Naples,” she said. “In my lay opinion, they’re among the finest in your collection.”
Connie smiled but said nothing.
“What's the grand total now?” persisted Olivia. “It must be close to fifty. Am I right?”
Connie nodded. “Something like that, yes.” She frowned. “Do you think it’s too many? Am I being foolish, or greedy, perhaps?”
Olivia smiled reassuringly. Was guilt the cause of Connie’s preoccupation?
“Not at all, Connie, I think you’ve created a wonderful collection. You have the means to do so, and if it gives you pleasure, why shouldn’t you? If you’re worried about no one else having the opportunity to view them, you can always lend some to state galleries around the world.”
Connie nodded slowly. “You know, that’s a good idea. It would help widen the exposure of these wonderful artists. There are so many that are either overlooked or totally forgotten.”
To Olivia, Connie’s eyes were warmer this time. Maybe her off-the-cuff reply had lifted her out of her mood. She hoped so; she wanted the impact of her surprise to be as profound as possible.
She was further reassured when Connie stood and put her hands on her hips.
“OK, Diana,” she said, “I don’t think I can wait any longer. Either you’re going to have to tell me what you’ve done at the villa, or show me,”.
Olivia laughed. “Telling you would spoil it. Let’s get ready and head up there.”
By the time they were climbing into the car, Connie seemed to be back to her normal self. Olivia sighed inwardly; the stupid bitch could be capricious at times, she thought, but there was no point in worrying further about it; that was just the way she was. In any event, there would soon be no reason to concern herself over Connie ever again.
As they drove through the gate, Connie was again talking excitedly about her paintings, which one
s would go where, how best to arrange them. Olivia was hardly listening; the paintings were never going to get as far as the villa.
Connie was still in full flood when Olivia drew the car to a halt in front of the gates of the Villa Brillante.
“Why are the gates locked?” exclaimed Connie in surprise. “Is nobody working here today?”
Olivia smiled at her. “It’s all part of the surprise. I gave everyone the day off. It will be better without them.”
“Really?” questioned Connie, her voice echoing her alarm.
“Yes, really,” said Olivia. “Relax; I’ve been so looking forward to this. It’s going to be such fun.”
Connie was still uncertain.
“What about the guards? Surely they should still be here, with all the valuable materials in the house. Wasn’t that the whole point of the guards?”
“Of course it was, Connie. And it still is. They’ll be back this evening,” lied Olivia. “I doubt word has got round in such a short time that they aren’t here. And anyway, the gates are locked.”
She got out of the car to release the padlocks.
Connie’s eyes roamed the site. It seemed so empty without the builders, and she could think of no reason why they shouldn’t be there. What was Diana up to? Her feeling of unease returned.
“Diana—” she started as Olivia got back into the car. But Olivia cut her off.
“Nearly there, Connie, you won’t have to wait much longer. I can’t wait to see your face.” She patted Connie’s arm and smiled as she drove through the gates and up to the villa’s main door.
“Oh, we have a door,” said Connie, distracted by progress she didn’t know about.
“We have, yes, with a handle and a lock,” said Olivia, holding up a key.
“A locked door isn’t much use when there’s no glass in the windows,” commented Connie.
“Glass scheduled for next week,” countered Olivia, “together with work starting on the main boundary wall and the real gates.”
“Fortress Fairbright,” said Connie.
“It’s what you wanted.”
“It’s what’s necessary,” replied Connie as she opened her door and stepped out of the car.
“Come on, I can’t wait any longer,” she added, but the earlier fire in her voice had died again.
“Once more with enthusiasm?” said Olivia. “I’ve been planning this for ages.”
She recoiled slightly as Connie gave her a long, cold look. There was no humour in her eyes, none of the eager anticipation she had been expecting. Had she guessed what was happening? She couldn’t possibly have since if she knew, she most certainly wouldn’t be there.
She waited, feeling more tension than she had anticipated, when suddenly Connie surprised her by smiling and holding out her hand.
“Sorry, Diana, I’m just in a strange mood. Take no notice of me. Show me your surprise; I’m mystified as to what it can be.”
Olivia kept hold of Connie’s hand and walked her to the main door. She stopped to turn the key in the lock, pushed open the door and stood back.
“After you, signora,” she said, curtseying. “After all, you are the lady of the house.”
Connie walked into the entrance hall and looked around. Apart from more building supplies stacked on the floor, not much had changed since she was last there. She turned to Olivia to find her holding her arm out towards the stairs.
“Upstairs, Connie, that’s where the fun starts.”
Connie walked up the stairs and stopped at the landing.
“That way,” said Olivia from immediately behind her as she pointed left down the corridor. “Stop at the end by the door.”
“That’s one of the guest bedrooms,” said Connie as she walked towards the door.
“Right,” agreed Olivia, “Now, I’m going to open the door, but before I do, I want you to close your eyes. No peeping, OK?”
Connie glanced back at Olivia, her smile still tinged with hesitancy. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she said.
“More than you could possibly imagine,” said Olivia, forcing her own smile, knowing it was the final time she’d have to do it.
“Now, eyes closed. Good. I’ll take you by the hand and lead you in.”
She turned the handle and pushed the door wide open. She wanted to check on Cotton before she guided Connie into the room.
Her features hardened as Jennifer looked up. There was some disturbance of the chains and the chair where she had been trying in vain to free herself, but mainly there was desperation in her eyes as well as pain. The tight gag round her mouth was making breathing difficult.
Olivia took Connie’s hand and walked her five steps into the room.
“OK, stop there,” she said. “I want to introduce you to somebody. You can open your eyes now.”
Connie opened her eyes, gasping as she saw Jennifer bound and gagged in front of her.
“Connie Fairbright, meet Jennifer Cotton, or as you know her, Ginevra Mancini. Jennifer is my guarantor.”
Connie turned her head to Olivia, the expression on her face a mixture of horror and incomprehension.
“What in—”
She was stopped mid-sentence as Olivia slapped her face viciously, the slap followed immediately by another, and then, as her legs gave way and she sank to her knees, a third.
Before Connie could react, Olivia had taken her hands, pulled them round behind her and handcuffed them with a pair of cuffs she had left on a pile of wood near the door.
“Diana!” screamed Connie, her mouth and nose bleeding.
Olivia’s face had transformed from genial friend to cold-hearted killer.
“That, Connie dear, is just a taste of what Jennifer will feel if you don’t cooperate. As you can see from the blood on her face, I softened her up a little yesterday. It’s looking rather bland now it’s dry; I think I should freshen it up, don’t you?”
To demonstrate her point, she walked over to Jennifer and slapped her hard round the face, immediately opening up the wound in her nose.
“Diana! Stop it!” screeched Connie. “What do you want? I don’t understand. What’s this all about? Are you mad?”
Olivia turned to her, the malevolence in her eyes filling Connie with fear.
“No, Connie dear, I’m not mad. I’m clever and calculating, but not mad. Although if I stayed much longer in your company I might go mad. Do you know what it’s been like all these months having to put up with you, with your gushing, your privileged crap, your simpering enthusiasm for everything, your gullibility? I’ve earned everything you are about to give me, make no mistake about it.”
“What … what the hell are you talking about? We’ve been friends, confidantes. What’s got into you?”
“God, you’re so naïve,” spat Olivia. “You sit on your gilded throne thinking all the world is yours at your bidding.”
She stopped abruptly, not wanting to be distracted by a rant. There was much to be done.
“To answer your question,” she continued, “what’s got into me is your wealth. I want some of it. Not all of it, in fact what I want is trivial compared to what you’re worth, but it will be enough for me to disappear and live in comfort for the rest of my life.”
“Haven’t I paid you well enough? I’ve been more than generous. You had nothing before you started working for me.” Connie was indignant.
“You think that was enough?” barked Olivia. “Why the hell do you think I sought you out? For your sweet, sickly, small-town personality?”
She sneered at the incredulity on Connie’s face.
“I targeted you, you stupid bitch, and I’ve had a hard time not breaking your pathetic neck every single day.”
While she was talking, she had walked over to a bag in the corner of the room and removed a pair of heavy-duty hiking boots. She kicked off her shoes and put on the boots.
Smiling, Olivia then turned her attention towards Jennifer, rejoicing in the fear reflected in the girl’s
eyes. She strode over to her, grabbed hold of the chair back and one of the chains binding Jennifer and toppled the chair onto its side. Jennifer grunted through the gag as her head hit the floor. Olivia walked slowly around the fallen chair until Jennifer was facing her, took a step towards her and launched a kick into her gut.
“Stop it! Stop it!” screamed Connie. “You can have whatever you want! Just stop hurting her!”
Olivia turned back to Connie. “Of course, my dear. I just wanted you to be sure of the consequences of disobeying me; I needed you to witness them first-hand.”
She grabbed Connie’s handcuffs and hauled her to her feet.
“Right now, we’re going to the caravan. We have some work to do online; we're going to connect to your bank. It won’t take long and then I’ll be out of your hair. And remember that DC Cotton — did you know she’s a police officer? — remember she’s here and she’ll be punished with increasing severity for every delay, every resistance you put up. And I’ll drag you back here to watch. Are we clear?”
“Y…yes,” stuttered Connie as she looked back helplessly at Jennifer’s motionless body.
“Fifty million dollars is too much,” gasped Connie as she recoiled from a vicious slap from Olivia.
“There’s no point in resisting, Connie. This isn’t a negotiation,” snarled Olivia.
“I’m not resisting; I’m telling you it’s more than the limit!” yelled Connie through a blur of tears she was trying desperately to blink away. “Although it’s my money, there are safeguards. I can’t just transfer that amount without a detailed discussion with my finance people. A limit was set up for situations exactly like this.”
They were in the caravan with Connie sitting in front of the computer. Olivia had freed her hands but made it clear that she wouldn’t hesitate to inflict more pain if Connie tried anything.
Olivia searched her eyes. In spite of the terror in Connie’s voice, or perhaps because of it, it sounded like the truth.
“How much can you transfer?”
“Twenty, max.”
Remorseless Page 29