Bound By Blood

by Paul J. Teague

  Will was silenced by the application of the tape. She heard him struggling to call to her, but was unable to make out his words.

  Charlotte felt her entire body trembling. Whatever had made her think she was able to steal a lead on these men? They seemed unassailable, doing whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, and she was swiftly running out of options to protect herself, Will and Kate. How could Kate take care of herself, when she’d been set up for a murder she didn’t commit and was on the run from Vinnie? Her family had already been forced to flee to France for safety.

  ‘I want to see my husband,’ she said, as defiantly as she could, given that the effects of the drug were still lingering. ‘I want to see him for myself. Then maybe I’ll talk.’

  ‘Let’s be very clear about this, Charlotte. You have no control here.’

  Without warning, a terrifying sawing sound began close to the side of her head. Her body convulsed with shock.

  The sound stopped as quickly as it began. She felt two hands grasp her from under her armpits and haul her up onto a chair.

  ‘I need your finger, Charlotte—’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, what the hell are you going to do?’

  The sawing sound began again. She flinched and struggled, even though she knew it was pointless.

  ‘Your finger please,’ Vinnie repeated.

  ‘You’ve tied my hands. I can barely move, you moron,’ she seethed.

  Charlotte half expected a fist to come slamming into the face covering. Instead, Vinnie moved her roughly, then pulled out her hands so that they were in front of her. She closed her eyes, determined to retain as much dignity as possible in the face of this terrifying intimidation.

  ‘Finger out,’ Vinnie demanded. She did as she was told, struggling to sit upright, her legs now so weak from fear that she wouldn’t have been able to stand on them even if she’d wanted to. She waited for the sound of the saw, bracing herself for unbearable pain. Instead, a hand grasped her finger and placed it against a flat, plastic surface.

  ‘Thanks,’ Vinnie said, ‘I just wanted to unlock your phone.’

  ‘You bastard!’ Charlotte shouted. ‘Do you get off on all this? You’re a sociopath, whatever that psychological report told you. Who compiled the report, the good doctor over there? Why is he even here? Isn’t he supposed to be curing patients, not hurting them?’

  ‘Oh, by the way, now you mention it, we know you were snooping around Doctor Henderson’s house. You’ve heard of CCTV, I take it? Well, it’s all over the doctor’s house and we’ve got footage of you creeping all over the place. And yes, we’ll be using that if we need to report the theft of certain valuable items which have gone missing from the doctor’s house. To help focus your mind, those valuable items were concealed in the loft space of the house where your son lives with his girlfriend, just waiting for a police tip-off. How much do you reckon a conviction of theft will damage his fledgling career?’

  ‘Okay, you win the “how high can I pee” contest. Now, how about we get down to business? Why am I here? Why is Will here? What do you want?’

  ‘You know what I want, Charlotte. I want the paperwork you retrieved from Kate Summers’ house and the location of her brother’s storage unit and the key or passcode if you have it. And I want Kate Summers, or at least, I want to find out where she’s hiding.’

  ‘What will happen to Kate when you find her?’

  ‘That all depends. There’s a little matter we have to clear up over her brother. She’s been a naughty girl, has your friend DCI Summers. Did you know she concealed evidence when he disappeared twenty years ago? A newly recruited police constable, with the safety wheels only just removed, and corrupt from the start.’

  ‘If Kate Summers broke any rules, she did it for a damned good reason. She must have been protecting somebody. I’d trust that woman with my life—’

  ‘But would you give up your life for her, Charlotte?’

  Charlotte had no intention of anybody having to give up their life. If there was a way to keep them all alive with all their fingers intact, she would do what it took.

  ‘What’s it going to take to do this the civilised way, Vinnie?’

  ‘Unfortunately, Charlotte, we’re beyond that now. When Kate Summers went into hiding, she drew a line in the sand. She made it a race. Either she gets there first or we do. And we have more resources, more incentives and more motivation to sort this out. You and Kate, alas, have a lot to lose. Doctor Henderson, it’s time to get started.’

  Charlotte heard a movement across the room, then Will let out some desperate, muffled cries. If only she could see. It was completely disorienting not to have a sense of the room and what was going on.

  ‘You asked me what the Doctor is doing here, Charlotte. He has a particularly important job. He’s going to keep your husband conscious while I ask you some very simple questions. Will doesn’t play guitar, does he? Only he might have a little difficulty if he wants to try, after our little chat tonight.’

  The sound of the electronic saw started again at the far side of the room and Charlotte flinched as she heard Will’s stifled cry through his taped-up mouth.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Will’s muffled cries were short-lived. Charlotte struggled to loosen her ties, but the hard plastic dug into her skin. There was no wriggling her way out of these restraints. She would need to be cut out, and there didn’t seem much prospect of that in the immediate future.

  ‘Will? Will? What have you done to him, you dickheads?’

  A silence settled over the room. Had Will passed out with the pain? She imagined his bloody finger lying on the ground and fought to hold down a scream. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

  What were her options? She had to get them out of this alive, and preferably unharmed. She could give up the documents. Vinnie had mentioned Brett’s storage unit too, so there was no hiding that either. If she gave them Kate’s telephone number, might they locate her? They’d be able to pinpoint her mobile phone to a mast, but only with the correct equipment and access. Was Fabian Armstrong powerful enough to do that?

  Charlotte considered Kate’s warning about a rogue police officer. A copper on the payroll might organise a signal trace to a mast. If she could warn Kate in time, at least her friend could find a new hiding place.

  Her spirits sank further when she realised she probably wouldn’t get out of this unharmed. Why would they let her and Will go? Vinnie wouldn’t torture the two of them then allow them to go running to the police. Their only value to Vinnie was in the information he wanted. Once he had it, they’d be no further use to him. She had to delay him as long as possible in the hope that Lucia, Olli or Isla – or perhaps even Callie – would alert the police and the cavalry would come charging in before Vinnie got what he wanted.

  She jumped in fright as the noise of the saw sounded directly at the side of her head. Vinnie laughed.

  ‘You should have seen your reaction, you nearly jumped as high as the roof just then.’

  The doctor was laughing too. Didn’t these men have hobbies? Was this all they could do to occupy their time, frightening innocent people out of their wits?

  ‘What have you done to Will? I want to see my husband. You’ll get nothing from me until I see he’s okay.’

  Vinnie’s hand clasped the back of whatever they’d placed over her head and pulled it tight around her neck. He pulled it tighter and tighter; her breathing was becoming more constricted by the second.

  ‘I – can’t – breathe...’ she pleaded.

  ‘Yeah, that’s the general idea,’ Vinnie replied calmly. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve done this many times before. The Afghans last longer because the air is thinner up in the mountains and they’re used to it. There’s about another minute until you pass out, but it’s never an exact science.’

  Charlotte had never experienced a sensation like it. When the water had been sloshing around her on the causeway, she’d at least been able to grab breaths in b
etween the ebb and flow of the waves. What Vinnie was doing constricted her airway, a crushing feeling which stopped her from gasping for air. The worst thing was not being able to move her arms and legs; she could only struggle, trying to wriggle out of Vinnie’s vice-like grasp. Just as she felt herself losing consciousness, he released her. She gulped, frantically drawing the air into her lungs.

  ‘Hey, I might try a bit of water-boarding later,’ Vinnie said, close by her ear. ‘I miss doing that. I held the record in Afghanistan, you know. I could extract a confession, real or fictional, within three hours from even the toughest rebel and leave them a mental wreck afterwards. If only they gave out medals for skills like that, I’d be covered in them.’

  ‘You’re psychotic,’ Charlotte gasped at him, her voice faltering and painful. ‘There’s something wrong with you. No sane person does this to another—’

  Vinnie grabbed the bottom of her hood and pulled it tighter. She flinched again, taking a deep breath before he cut off her air supply. His grip relaxed.

  ‘Only kidding,’ he laughed, ‘But do stop the insults, Charlotte. I know you don’t like this – it’s not a spa day – but I really don’t care. We keep doing this until I get what I want. If I get a one-star rating at the end, I’ve done a great job.’

  ‘What happens to us if I give you the information? Will you let us go?’

  ‘That depends,’ Vinnie replied.

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On whether you have everything we need. You see, Kate is the icing on the cake. We need to tie this up swiftly when we make our move. Let’s just say everything is a little precarious right now. But yes, if we get what we’re after, you and your husband walk free.’

  ‘But you’ve hurt him already. Why should I give you anything?’

  ‘Oh, Will’s fine,’ Vinnie began.

  ‘You chopped off his finger.’

  ‘No, Charlotte, I didn’t. I didn’t have to. He fainted at the mere suggestion of it. I’ll give those Afghan rebels one thing, they had a lot more staying power than your husband.’

  ‘Why should I believe a rat like you?’

  If she ever got out of those ties, she’d charge at Vinnie like an angry rhinoceros and attack him until he died.

  ‘Listen, Charlotte, for a man like me, this is just another day in the office. What we’ve been doing so far is my equivalent of gentle stretching exercises. We haven’t even made a proper start yet. So, believe me when I tell you I’m just warming Will up on the stove, and we’re nowhere near boiling point yet.’

  ‘I want to see him. Then I’ll start to talk.’

  ‘No, you start to talk, then you see him.’

  ‘There’s a document hidden in the spare wheel area in the company car, which is parked at the cash and carry. You can go and get it now if you want, to prove I’m telling the truth.’

  ‘If you’re wasting my time, Charlotte—’

  ‘I’m not, I promise.’

  ‘There’s no riding off into the sunset on some kid’s jet-ski this time. By the way, you were impressive. It takes some guts to pull a move like that. It’s why your ties are so tight; I need to watch you. You’re less predictable than the rebels.’

  ‘Let me see Will. Then you get the document. It’ll only take you five minutes to collect it. If I’m lying to you, you can remove one of my fingers. You’ll see, I’m not lying.’

  ‘Okay, maybe we won’t have to do this the hard way. I’m going to remove your hood—’

  ‘For the count of ten,’ Charlotte chanced. ‘I need a proper look at him. I’ll count to ten, then I’ll cooperate, if you’re not lying about hurting him.’

  ‘Okay then, maybe the water-boarding will wait. Shame. I had a bet with the doctor that I’d break your husband within thirty minutes. You, I reckon, might be pig-headed enough to hold out for an hour. But no longer, I wagered fifty pounds on it.’

  Charlotte felt Vinnie’s hand at the back of the hood, and she jumped, believing he was going to pull it tight again. Her neck still felt like it had been crushed, but she had to forget the discomfort and focus on survival.

  ‘I’m going to pull the hood up, and I’ll do the counting.’

  Everything with these guys was about control. They were a psychologist’s dream. The hood came off, and Vinnie began to count.

  ‘One...’

  Her eyes adjusted to the dim light. Vinnie was right by her side.

  ‘Two...’

  Will was ahead of her, slumped in an old office chair. His wrists were securely taped to the armrests of the chair and his feet were taped too.

  ‘Three...’

  Will’s fingers were intact and there was no sign of any blood, though he was out cold. He looked exhausted and dirty, but they did not appear to have harmed him physically.

  ‘Four...’

  The doctor was standing at the side. On the old, battered table was a selection of sinister looking surgical implements. He looked like a runner on the start line, waiting for the pistol to trigger the beginning of a race.

  ‘Five...’

  There were two mobile phones, hers and Will’s, placed on top of an upside-down packing box to her left. Nearby, a circular saw had been casually discarded, as if Vinnie had been in the middle of some DIY task.

  ‘Six...’

  She’d almost ignored it, how screwed up was that? Both she and Will were positioned on a large, plastic decorating sheet laid out on the ground. It would keep any blood off the floor and allow these vile men to clear up their mess.

  ‘Seven...’

  She was right; they’d used nylon ties on her hands and feet. She’d used them herself once, as a teacher, to secure an event banner to the school gates. They were almost impossible to release, even if you had your hands free.

  ‘Eight...’

  Will was beginning to stir. Charlotte looked to her side and saw the syringe they’d used to knock her out had been carelessly left on another box just to her side. It was not completely empty. Vinnie had said it didn’t take much to knock her out.

  ‘Nine, and that’s enough now. I lied about counting to ten. You’ve had a good look at your husband; you can see we haven’t hurt him – yet – and it’s all you’re getting.’

  As he spoke, he replaced the hood, and she was plunged back into total darkness. But it didn’t matter, she’d had enough time. She had a plan. There were enough items in the room for them to get out of there with all their fingers intact. If Will could rouse himself quickly, it was time to show Vinnie Mace that a married couple fighting for their lives could cause him much more trouble than any Afghan rebel he’d ever encountered.

  Chapter Twenty

  December 1999

  Tiffany didn’t have much to thank Joanne Taylor for, but she was useful to have around when she wanted to sneak off to attend to legal matters. She was sitting outside the offices of Hetherington, Charles and Bickerstock, a Lancaster solicitor which, to her knowledge, had no connection whatsoever with her family, David, Fabian or anybody else she’d ever known.

  The name of the company reminded her of something from a Charles Dickens novel; she wouldn’t have been surprised if Bob Cratchit had shown her into the office that day. The legal experts whose names were behind the company must have retired or died many years ago, because her appointment at ten o’clock was with Eric Winder.

  She’d almost burst out laughing when she saw the look on Joanne’s face as she told her she had to take care of the children for the entire morning. They were sitting at the breakfast table; David hadn’t even made a pretence of returning to their bedroom the night before.

  ‘I need you to watch the children today; I have a post-natal check-up at the hospital.’

  If dropping faces made a sound, she’d have heard an almighty crash.

  ‘I wish you’d told me; I was hoping to get my hair done today.’

  She looked over at David, no doubt seeking his support.

  He crumpled his eyebrows slightly as a warning. Tiffan
y understood it, even if Joanne did not.

  Don’t let’s push our luck. You are supposed to be the nanny.

  They were a couple of rats and she was trapped in their filthy nest. She’d soon teach the smug scumbags a lesson.

  Joanne gave a melodramatic sigh.

  ‘I suppose I can get it done later. My roots are terrible, I can’t let them go any longer.’

  ‘They look fine,’ David said. It was the most effusive compliment Tiffany had heard in months. What a pity he’d directed it at Joanne.

  Tiffany had secured her free pass for the morning and planned to see the solicitors then share a lunch with Brett at the Maritime Museum before heading back. They were so close she could almost reach out and touch her new freedom.

  ‘So, how are you today, Mrs Irwin?’ Eric Winder said as he pulled out a chair for her and took his position behind his desk. This was her fourth visit, and he was still so formal and old-fashioned. She hoped it meant he was up to the job.

  ‘I’m good, thank you. Where are we up to with the power of attorney?’

  ‘We’re almost there,’ he smiled. It was not an unreserved smile though; she sensed a but coming.

  ‘Is there some kind of hitch?’ she asked, sensing trouble.

  ‘No, not a hitch,’ he replied, ‘but as I informed you at our first meeting last month, I need to contact the office where the original power of attorney was drawn up.’

  ‘Yes, so?’

  ‘Well, I met my colleague Sebastian Tillotson at a local networking event last week and I had an informal and confidential word about it.’

  Davies, Tillotson and Walker were the family solicitors. They’d handled her father’s estate and Fabian and David had used them to snatch away her rights when she’d had her post-natal depression. They sounded more like a sixties pop band, but they’d been aligned with the Armstrong family for almost one century, albeit not in its present form. Like any pop band, the line-up had changed.

  ‘What did he have to say?’ Tiffany asked. If Eric Winder was about to drop a bombshell on her, she would scream.