by Colin Wade
Within seconds she was gone.
Rob sat looking at Clark, stunned. Immobilised by the sudden horror of the revelation and not reacting when Anya took flight, he suddenly came to his senses and glared at Clark.
“What have you done? Why did you keep this from me? I need to find her. You had better hope this has not pushed her over the edge and she does something stupid.”
With that tirade, Rob charged through the front door and went after Anya.
Clark sat in his den. Shit.
66
Anya flew down the stairs of Clark’s complex and out the main door, onto the small promenade that ran along either side of the river which flowed through the centre of Reading. She turned left and just kept on walking. Her head was exploding. How far back did this terror go? Were here parents really murdered? She thought that meeting Rob and rebuilding her life would allow the past to stay in the past. How wrong had she been? The dreams, the nightmares had taken her back to the horror of her lost years and the more that Clark and Rob were filling in the gaps in her memories, the worse it got. Her parents, her baby, people trying to kill her, her friends dead. The familiar yearning for a fix invaded her thoughts. She knew you were never really cured of your addiction.
She kept on walking, further and further away from Clark’s flat, following the river and then cutting into some dingy backstreets. She suddenly realised how alone and vulnerable she was. The road she was in looked and felt like poverty. Badly maintained houses, burnt out cars, rubbish everywhere and small groups of youths hanging around looking menacing. She suddenly froze as a hand touched her shoulder.
“Now what is a nice ho like you doing in a place like this?”
She turned to see a tall, heavily tattooed, mixed-race male staring at her with a big grin, embellished by two gold teeth. He had the loose, baggy clothing so typical of an urban male. His hands and neck were festooned with gold, or something that looked like gold. He was holding a six-inch blade, which he played with casually to maximise the intimidation.
“Umm. Nothing. I am just walking.”
“People don’t walk round this hood. Either you are here to score or you are threatening my patch. Now which is it?”
“I am just passing through.”
He grabbed her neck and got his face up close. The various groups of youths watched from a distance with increased amusement. They knew not to get involved in Zebu’s business.
“Look bitch. Maybe you is not understanding me. People don’t pass through my patch. You either do a deal or I will cut you open.”
Anya was scared but perversely he was offering her the one thing that her current emotional state was driving her toward. She desperately needed a fix.
“I need a fix.”
“Ah, so you are here to score. Lucky for you. What is your poison?”
“Cocaine.”
“Walk with me.”
He let her go and gestured for her to follow him into a small yard that contained a series of garages. He opened up the one nearest the road they had come from. He went in and a few seconds later came out with a small wrap, containing white powder.
“Now this my beautiful one is your grade A Colombian. £200.”
Anya froze. She wanted a fix and saying she did had stopped her from being stabbed, but she didn’t have £200. She made a play of rummaging in her bag. Her heart was racing. Her mind trying to process how to get out of this terrible situation. She got her purse out.
“I only have £100.”
“Well that is just not going to cut it bitch. It’s £200 or I cut you.”
“Please, just give me what you can for a £100.”
He glared at her and then his face changed to a smug arrogant grin.
“Well there is another way that bitches like you can pay their way. If a ho can blow, I halve the cost of the transaction.”
With that he unzipped his trousers and they dropped to his ankles, with his CK pants quickly following.
Anya stared at an impressive cock, which was growing by the second. He looked at her, expectantly, leering at her body.
“You could show me those lovely tits first, before you start to blow.”
Anya was numb. The memories of Bradley and all the evil men that had sexually assaulted her, making her do these sorts of sordid sexual favours, came flooding back. She had one chance. He was vulnerable, expecting her to flash her tits and get down on her knees. She didn’t do that. She did the only thing she could. She aimed the hardest kick she could at his balls, which hung invitingly below his erect penis.
She connected. His eyes bulged and he screamed in pain. Anya bolted. The trousers round his ankles and the excruciating pain slowed his reactions, giving Anya the few seconds she needed.
She ran out of the yard, back towards where she came from. The groups of youths suddenly seemed interested in what was going on and started moving in her direction. She ran as fast as she could. She got to the river and turned back in the direction of Clark’s flat. She looked behind her to see if he was following her, but as she faced forward again her momentum sent her crashing into someone. They both sprawled to the floor.
“Anya!”
“Rob! Oh my God Rob.”
She hugged him harder than she had ever hugged him. Suddenly, about 100 yards back in the direction she came from, a voice shouted.
“You are going to die bitch.”
He was there with a small group of youths, clearly revelling in what they thought was about to happen.
“Run!” shouted Anya to Rob.
He stared at her with disbelief. What the hell was going on? Before he could process the possible answers to that question she was off, running back in the direction of Clark’s. The threatening man that had shouted at Anya was also on his heels. Rob set off after Anya.
The promenade by the river was long and straight with no exit points. They ran, all the time hearing the distant pounding of feet chasing them. They didn’t have time to see if they were being caught.
Suddenly, a gap in the wall appeared, leading into to the shopping area.
“Quick. This way.”
Rob had no hesitation in following Anya’s instructions. He was amazed at how fit she was and how lame his attempts had been at keeping up with her.
They emerged into the main shopping street and bolted into the first big shop they could see, which sold all sorts of fashion and accessories. They stopped and tried to hide themselves, whilst trying to keep an eye on the road. About twenty seconds later the man and his little gang emerged. They stopped and scanned the area. Rob and Anya stepped back, more into the shop. They could see him talking to his gang and using his phone. After a few agonising minutes they turned around and walked away.
Rob looked at Anya.
“We better get back to Clark’s and you bloody well tell me what the fuck that was all about.”
67
Clark opened his front door. Rob and Anya stood there, looking tired and stressed.
“You had better come in. I have ordered some pizza. I knew you would be back.”
“Oh, so you are a bloody mind reader now as well as a liar.”
Clark tried to ignore Rob’s obvious rage.
“I am sorry. I probably deserved that and I am sorry Anya for upsetting you so much. This is all so horrible but I sometimes forget that this is your life, your traumatic experiences. Until today this had all been words on paper. Meeting you has made it all terribly real but we are going to have to confront the truth if we are ever going to crack this and give you some closure.”
Rob’s rage had not subsided.
“Stop. Just stop Clark. I am so sick of your fancy monologues and false platitudes. Anya almost got herself killed because you have no idea how to deal with people. With their emotions.”
The two stags were rutting again. Anya
steamed into the confrontation.
“Rob. Don’t. It is not Clark’s fault. I know you have both been bursting to tell me all that you have found but I just can’t process everything that has happened. You are filling gaps in my memory that I never wanted to remember. I was so desperate for information but, my parents, that was just too much. It can’t be true.”
The tension was palpable. Rob and Clark didn’t know whether to fight or hug and make up. They were trying to take their cues from Anya but she was the most messed up of all of them. They were beginning to understand why.
“What just happened?” asked Clark, trying to move the conversation on.
“I just ran. I didn’t know where I was going and ended up somewhere I shouldn’t have been. I needed a fix and ran into a wanker who thought he was the local drug lord.”
“What happened?” they chorused.
“He pulled a knife and threatened to cut me if I didn’t buy drugs. I was terrified but strangely calm. I did want the drugs and I hoped I could get myself out of the situation without being hurt.”
“So why was he chasing you? Threatening to kill you,” said Rob.
“I couldn’t pay. He wanted sexual favours and dropped his trousers expecting me to give him head. I took my chance and kicked him in the balls. Suddenly a fix didn’t seem all that important. I ran for my life.”
“Jesus Anya. What the fuck were you thinking?” said Rob disapprovingly.
“Oh, fuck off Rob. Like you have any idea what I have been through. What it is like to be a drug addict, to be sexually assaulted, to have massive gaps in your memory. Meeting you was supposed to be a new start, but now because of you and Supernerd here playing conspiracy games, I am having to relive all this horror.”
This was not going well. Clark and Rob sat like a pair of naughty children, chastened by Anya’s anger. The doorbell rang. The pizza delivery man had saved the day.
They sat eating the pizza, quiet and lost in their own individual thoughts, nobody really knowing what to say to ease the tension. Clark knew they had barely touched the surface with Anya in terms of telling her what they had found. Her highly emotional state meant that the information they had given her was haphazard and unfortunately had hit on the most traumatic aspects of the conspiracy. Anya broke the silence.
“How much did they pay for my baby?”
“Look Anya, we don’t know if that is what happened.”
“How much?”
“There is no point speculating… ”
“HOW MUCH?”
“OK, OK. Around half a million pounds changed hands, but we don’t know what they were paying for. The money seemed to be split between several people.”
“Who?”
“Well, we have clear evidence that Dr Normandy was paid to do something to you. George Walker is clearly implicated in handling the money, probably the fixer. Now that you have identified Bradley, he is almost certainly the finder. We have a guy called Hassan Chandra who seems to be the main corrupt police link. The final conspirator is still unclear. We have one email that had James Hardacre’s name on it.”
“What! The James Hardacre? The prime minister?”
“Yes.”
“Holy fuck. How can he be involved? That just defies belief.”
“We don’t know that he is. We only have his name on one email, albeit it was the one that had yours and the other girls’ names on it. I got my mate to look into him and his family. The really dodgy character is his father, William Hardacre. Seems like he used his considerable influence to get James the PM job, but we can’t tie him into the conspiracy, other than lots of circumstantial links.”
“What do you mean?”
“My mate managed to find a way to hack the Cayman Island bank that these bastards have been using to launder the money. It led us to the identities of all the so-called customers who paid money for whatever service they are selling.”
“Stealing babies!”
“Well, maybe, but whatever, all the customers had strong links with the Hardacre family.”
“God, that is horrific. Do you think the Hardacres are pulling all the strings? Running whatever is going on?”
“The evidence is patchy but I would put money on it. There is one other thing though.”
“What?”
“There was a strange anomaly with the bank transactions. One of the pots of money had one less payment than the others and seemed to have paid a large amount of money into the main account.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“Well Anya, although all our evidence is still circumstantial, if our theory about the Hardacres is right, we believe they might be one of the customers of the doctor’s services.”
Anya put her head in her hands. “My God. This is too much.”
*
They gave Anya some time to take in the latest information. They couldn’t afford for her to bolt again. She was still a bit unpredictable but Clark felt that they were finally beginning to get through the evidence trail. Rob had also calmed down and seemed happy to let Clark and Anya talk. It was getting late though and they did have more to cover. Clark didn’t want them to leave.
“Why don’t you stay here tonight? You two can have my bed and I will sleep on the couch.”
“Oh, sorry Clark, it is late. We should go.”
“No, I want you to stay. We have much more to discuss but I know this is traumatic for you. We can stop for today and do more tomorrow. It’s Sunday tomorrow, so none of us have to work. Please.”
Anya and Rob looked at each other. They both knew Clark was right.
“We don’t have a change of clothes or even a toothbrush.”
“Don’t worry. I have some new toothbrushes in the cupboard. There are clean towels in the airing cupboard and I am sure your clothes won’t mind if you wear them for a second day.”
His quirky enthusiasm was infectious. It had been a difficult day for all of them but Rob and Anya knew it made sense to stay. After all, they were probably in the safest place they could be. Away from the glare and threat of evil Bradley, if they were indeed right that he was the one-man killing machine.
*
He was raging. He had gone back to Anya and Rob’s house, expecting them to return at some point after they had played him like some two-bit mug job. They hadn’t come home and it was well past midnight. All bets were off now. They were dead the moment he saw them. Sod his father and all this game-playing. Judgement day had arrived. These loose ends needed to be tied up. He made his favourite booty call to the Swedish twins who were always up for a debauched night of drink, drugs and wild sex. It would soothe his anger and get him ready for his next killing spree.
68
Anya and Rob woke the next morning in Clark’s flat to the smell of bacon and coffee. After freshening up they walked into his small kitchen/breakfast room to poached eggs on muffins, bacon and coffee. Clark was sitting there, eating his breakfast and smiling.
“Enjoy. Please.”
Rob and Anya were impressed. This guy clearly knew how to make breakfast. As they enjoyed the freedom of being safe, not thinking about being followed and Anya not having any bad dreams, Clark threw them a curve ball.
“Why don’t you stay here for a bit. It’s safe. We know you weren’t followed here, which means that your tail doesn’t know where you are. If you go home, you are at more risk. It would give us more time to discuss what we have found and our plans for getting in the clinic.”
Through mouthfuls of poached egg, Rob said, “But what about the gallery? I can’t just leave it.”
“Could the lady that has been helping you look after it full time for a few days?”
“I don’t know. I suppose I could ring her and ask.”
Anya interjected. “Look, sorry to state the bleeding obvious but you disgusting
men might be happy to wear the same pair of pants for several days on end but I am not. We have no clothes.”
“Go out and buy what you need. The shops are just around the corner.”
Anya and Rob looked at each other. Was this a good plan? Could they really hide out here for a bit? Buy a temporary wardrobe and live at Clark’s?
As they pondered what to do, Clark pushed on his with master plan.
“I can take a week off work. I am owed loads of time and they are always hassling me to take my leave. It will give us time to really move this forward.”
After a few minutes Anya spoke up.
“Let’s do it. Rob, give Elisha a call and give her some flannel about me needing some time to recover. I am sure she will do whatever you ask, as she is clearly smitten with you.”
Rob put on his surprised, slightly hurt expression.
“Oh, spare me Rob. If you can’t see that girl is madly in love with you, you must have a thicker skin than I thought. Don’t worry, I am not jealous. I have a few more important things to worry about than some ditzy mooning artist type.”
Rob finished his breakfast with no further comment. Embarrassed and a little bit chastened by Anya’s insight. She was right about Elisha. He knew she liked him and he thought she was incredibly cute. During the dark days of Anya’s coma, he had been tempted.
Rob made the call and, as Anya had predicted, she was delighted to help. They spent the morning buying clothes and supplies for a few days. Clark bought some more food and drink to keep them going alongside the inevitable takeaway menus.
After a lazy lunch, where the tensions of the previous day seemed to have dissipated a bit, they reconvened around the whiteboard. Anya gazed at the board, numb but trying to crack on.
“Why do you think it is happening again now?”
Clark perked up. Anya was calm and seemingly focused. He had to grab this opportunity.
“Oh, well, when Rob and I were looking at the bank transactions we noticed two new payments going into the main account, followed by payments out a few days later. It followed the same pattern although the figures had increased.”