by Robin Cook
Jack shuddered when he thought of what morning might bring. A good night’s sleep would only toughen Terese’s resolve. The fact that neither Terese nor Richard could shoot him in cold blood the night before was scant reassurance. As self-centered as they both were, he couldn’t bank on that continuing indefinitely.
Using his legs, Jack succeeded in getting the rag rug to fold over him again. Settling down as best he could, he tried to rest. If an opportunity of escape presented itself, he hoped he’d be physically able to take full advantage of it.
34
THURSDAY, 8:15 A.M., MARCH 28, 1996
CATSKILL MOUNTAINS, NEW YORK
The hours had passed slowly and miserably for Jack. He’d not been able to fall back asleep. Nor could he even find a comfortable position with his shivering. When Richard finally staggered into the room with his hair standing on end, Jack was almost glad to see him.
“I’ve got to use the bathroom,” Jack called out.
“You’ll have to wait for Terese to get up,” Richard said. He was busy rebuilding the fire.
The door to Terese’s room opened a few minutes later. Terese was dressed in an old bathrobe; she didn’t look any better than Richard. Her normal helmet of highlighted curls looked more like a mop. She was without makeup, and the contrast with her normal appearance made her seem exceptionally pale.
“I’ve still got my headache,” Terese complained. “And I slept lousy.”
“Me too,” Richard said. “It’s the stress, and we never really had any dinner.”
“But I’m not hungry,” Terese said. “I can’t understand it.”
“I’ve got to go to the bathroom,” Jack repeated. “I’ve been waiting for hours.”
“Get the gun,” Terese said to Richard. “I’ll unlock the handcuffs.”
Terese came into the kitchen and bent down to reach under the sink with the handcuff key.
“Sorry you didn’t sleep well,” Jack said. “You should have joined me out here in the kitchen. It’s been delightful.”
“I don’t want to hear any mouth from you,” Terese warned. “I’m not in the mood.”
The handcuff snapped open. Jack rubbed his chafed wrist as he stiffly got to his feet. A wave of dizziness spread over him, forcing him to lean against the kitchen table. Terese quickly relocked the handcuff around Jack’s free wrist. Jack wouldn’t have been able to resist even if he’d had the intention.
“Okay, march!” Richard said. He was training the gun on Jack.
“In a second,” Jack said. The room was still spinning.
“No tricks!” Terese said. She stepped away from him.
As soon as he could, Jack walked to the bathroom on rubbery legs. The first order of business was to relieve himself. The second was to take a dose of the rimantadine with a long drink of water. Only then did he hazard a look in the mirror. What he saw surprised him. He wasn’t sure he would have recognized himself. He looked like a vagrant. His eyes were bright red and slightly swollen. Dried blood was on the left side of his face and spattered on the shoulder of his uniform shirt, apparently from the blow he’d received in the car at the tollbooth. His lip was swollen where Richard had split it. Dried mucus stuck to his formidable stubble.
“Hurry up in there,” Terese commanded through the door.
Jack ran water in the sink and washed his face. Using his index finger, he brushed his teeth. Then with a little water he smoothed his hair.
“It’s about time,” Terese said when Jack emerged.
Jack suppressed the urge to give a clever retort. He felt he was walking a tightrope with these people, and he didn’t want to push his luck. He hoped they wouldn’t lock him back to the kitchen drain, but the wish was in vain. He was marched right back to the sink and secured.
“We should eat something,” Richard said.
“I got cold cereal last night,” Terese said.
“Fine,” Richard said.
They sat at the table a mere four feet away from Jack. Terese ate very little. She again mentioned that she just wasn’t hungry. They didn’t offer any cereal to Jack.
“Have you thought about what we’re going to do?” Richard asked.
“What about those people who were supposed to kill Jack in the city? Who were they?”
“It’s a gang from down where I live,” Richard said.
“How do you contact them?” Terese asked.
“I usually call them up or just go over to the building they occupy,” Richard said. “I’ve been dealing with a man called Twin.”
“Well, let’s get him the hell up here,” Terese said.
“He might come,” Richard said. “If the money is right.”
“Call him,” Terese said. “How much were you going to pay them?”
“Five hundred,” Richard said.
“Offer him a thousand if you have to,” Terese said. “But say it’s a rush job and that he’s got to come today.”
Richard scraped back his chair and went into the living room to get the phone. He brought it back to the kitchen table. He wanted her to listen in case they had to up the ante; he didn’t know how Twin would respond to the idea of coming all the way to the Catskills.
Richard dialed and Twin answered. Richard told him he wanted to talk once again about knocking off the doctor.
“Hey, man, we’re not interested,” Twin said.
“I know there was trouble in the past,” Richard said. “But this time it will be a snap. We have him handcuffed and hidden away outside the city.”
“If that’s the case, you don’t need us,” Twin said.
“Wait!” Richard said hastily. He’d sensed Twin was about to hang up. “We still need you. In fact, to make it worth your while driving out here, we’ll pay double.”
“A thousand bucks?” Twin asked.
“You got it,” Richard said.
“Don’t come, Twin,” Jack shouted. “It’s a setup!”
“Shit!” Richard barked. He told Twin to hold the line for a second. In a fit of fury, Richard cracked Jack over the head with the butt of his gun.
Jack closed his eyes hard enough to bring tears. The pain in his head was intense. Again he felt blood drip down the side of his scalp.
“Was that the doc?” Twin asked.
“Yeah, that was the doc,” Richard said angrily.
“What did he mean, ‘setup’?” Twin asked.
“Nothing,” Richard said. “He’s just running off at the mouth. We’ve got him handcuffed to the kitchen drainpipe.”
“Let me get this straight,” Twin said. “You’re paying a thousand bucks for us to come out and ice the doc while he’s chained to a pipe.”
“It’ll be a like a turkey shoot,” Richard assured him.
“Where are you?” Twin asked.
“About a hundred miles north of the city,” Richard said. “In the Catskills.”
There was a pause.
“What do you say?” Richard asked. “It’s easy money.”
“Why don’t you do it yourself?” Twin asked.
“That’s my business,” Richard said.
“All right,” Twin said. “Give me directions. But if there is any funny stuff, you’ll be one unhappy dude.”
Richard gave directions to get to the farmhouse and told Twin they’d be waiting for him.
Richard slowly replaced the receiver while he looked triumphantly at Terese.
“Well, thank God!” Terese said.
“I’d better call in sick,” Richard said, picking up the phone again. “I should have been at work already.”
After he finished his call Terese made a similar one to Colleen. Then she went to take a shower. Richard went to fill the wood box.
Wincing against the pain, Jack pushed himself back to a sitting position. At least the bleeding had stopped. The prospect of the Black Kings’ arrival spelled doom. From bitter experience, Jack knew these gang members would have no qualms about shooting him no matter what state he was in.
<
br /> For a few seconds Jack lost total control of himself. Like a child in a temper tantrum he yanked inconsequentially at his shackles. All he managed to do was cut into his wrists and knock over some detergent containers. There was no way he was about to break either the drainpipe or the handcuffs.
After the fit had passed, Jack slumped over and cried. But even that didn’t last long. Wiping his face on his left sleeve, he sighed and sat up. He knew he had to escape. On his next trip to the bathroom he’d have to try something. It was his only chance, and he didn’t have much time.
Three-quarters of an hour later Terese reappeared in her clothes. She dragged herself to the couch and plopped down. Richard was on the other couch flipping through an old 1950s Life magazine.
“I really don’t feel too good,” Terese admitted. “My headache is still killing me. I feel like I’m coming down with a cold.”
“Me too,” Richard said without looking up.
“I have to use the bathroom again,” Jack called out.
Terese rolled her eyes. “Give me a break!” she said.
No one moved or spoke for five minutes.
“I suppose I can just let loose right here,” Jack said, breaking the silence.
Terese sighed and threw her legs over the side of the couch. “Come on, stalwart warrior,” she said disparagingly to Richard.
They used the same method as before. Terese unlocked the handcuffs while Richard stood poised with the gun.
“Do I really need these handcuffs while I’m in the bathroom?” Jack asked when Terese started to relock them.
“Absolutely,” Terese said.
Once inside the bathroom Jack took another rimantadine and a long drink of water. Then, leaving the water running, he stepped on the closed toilet seat, grasped the window trim with both hands, and began to pull. He increased the pressure to see if the window casing would come loose.
Just then the door opened.
“Get down from there!” Terese snarled.
Jack stepped down from the toilet and cringed. He was afraid that Richard was about to hit him on the head again. Instead Richard just crowded into the bathroom, holding the gun out in front of him trained on Jack’s face. The gun was cocked.
“Just give me a reason to shoot,” he hissed.
For a second no one moved. Then Terese ordered Jack back to the kitchen sink.
“Can’t you think of another place?” Jack said. “I’m getting tired of the view.”
“Don’t push me,” Terese warned.
With the cocked gun just a few feet away, there was nothing Jack could do. In a matter of seconds he was handcuffed to the drainpipe yet again.
A half hour later Terese decided to go out to the store to get some aspirin and some soup. She asked Richard if he wanted anything. He told her to get some ice cream; he thought it might feel good on his sore throat.
After Terese had left, Jack told Richard that he had to go to the bathroom again.
“Yeah, sure,” Richard said without budging from the couch.
“I do,” Jack averred. “I didn’t get to go last time.”
Richard gave a short laugh. “Tough shit,” he said. “It was your own fault.”
“Come on,” Jack said. “It will only take a minute.”
“Listen!” Richard yelled. “If I come in there it will be to crack you over the head again. Understand?”
Jack understood all too well.
Twenty minutes later Jack heard the unmistakable sound of a car approaching along the gravel drive. He felt a rush of adrenaline in his system. Was it the Black Kings? His panic returned, and he stared forlornly at the unbudgable drainpipe.
The door opened. To Jack’s relief it was Terese. She dropped a bag of groceries on the kitchen table, then retreated to the couch and lay down and closed her eyes. She told Richard to put the groceries away.
Richard got up without enthusiasm. He put what had to be kept cold in the refrigerator and the ice cream in the freezer. Then he placed the cans of soup in the cupboard. In the bottom of the bag he found aspirin and a bunch of small cellophane-wrapped packages of peanut-butter crackers.
“You might give some of the crackers to Jack,” Terese said.
Richard looked down at Jack. “You want some?” he asked.
Jack nodded. Although he still felt ill, his appetite had returned. He’d not eaten anything since the deli food in the van.
Richard fed Jack peanut butter crackers whole, like a mother bird dropping food into a waiting chick’s gaping mouth. Jack hungrily devoured five of them and then asked for water.
“For chrissake!” Richard voiced. He was annoyed this job had fallen to him.
“Give it to him,” Terese said.
Reluctantly Richard did as he was told. After a long drink Jack thanked him. Richard told Jack to thank Terese, not him.
“Bring me a couple of aspirin and some water,” Terese said.
Richard rolled his eyes. “What am I, the servant?”
“Just do it,” Terese said petulantly.
Three-quarters of an hour later another car could be heard coming up the driveway.
“Finally,” Richard said as he tossed a magazine aside and heaved himself off the couch. “They must have driven by way of Philadelphia, for chrissake.” He headed for the door while Terese pushed herself up to a sitting position.
Jack swallowed nervously. He could feel his pulse pounding in his temples. He realized he didn’t have long to live.
Richard pulled open the door. “Shit!” he voiced.
Terese sat bolt upright. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s Henry, the goddamn caretaker!” Richard croaked. “What are we going to do?”
“You cover Jack!” Terese barked in panic. “I’ll talk to Henry.” She stood up and swayed for a moment as a wave of dizziness overcame her. Then she went out the door.
Richard dashed over to Jack. En route he’d picked up the gun, which he now held by the barrel as if it were a hatchet. “One word and so help me I’ll bash your head in,” he growled.
Jack looked up at Richard. He could see the man’s determination. Outside he could hear a car come to a stop followed by the muffled sound of Terese’s voice.
Jack was faced with an unreasonable quandary. He could yell, but how much sound he could make before being incapacitated by Richard was questionable. Yet if he didn’t try, he’d soon be facing the Black Kings and certain death. He decided to go for it.
Jack put his head back and started to scream for help. As expected, Richard brought the handle of his gun crashing down on Jack’s forehead. Jack’s scream was cut off before he could form any words. A merciful darkness intervened with the suddenness of a light being switched off.
Jack regained consciousness in stages. The first thing he was aware of was that his eyes wouldn’t open. But after a struggle the right one did, and a minute later so did the left. When he wiped his face on his sleeve he realized that his lids had been sealed together with coagulated blood.
With his forearm, Jack could feel that he had a sizable lump centered at his hairline. He knew it was a good place to be hit if you had to take a wallop. That part of the skull was by far the thickest.
He blinked to clear his vision and looked at his watch. It was just after four, a fact confirmed by the anemic quality of the late-afternoon sunlight coming through the window over the sink.
Jack glanced around the living room, which he could see from under the kitchen table. The fire had burned down significantly. Terese and Richard were sprawled on their respective couches.
Jack changed his position and in the process tipped over a container of window cleaner.
“What’s he doing now?” Richard asked.
“Who the hell cares,” Terese said. “What time is it?”
“It’s after four,” Richard said.
“Where are these gang friends of yours?” Terese demanded. “Are they coming by bicycle?”
“Should I call and che
ck?” Richard asked.
“No, let’s just wait here for a week,” Terese said irritably.
Richard put the phone on his chest and dialed. When the phone was answered he had to ask for Twin. After a long wait Twin came on the line.
“Why the hell aren’t you here?” Richard complained. “We’ve been waiting all day.”
“I’m not coming, man,” Twin said.
“But you said you were,” Richard rejoined.
“I can’t do it, man,” Twin said. “I can’t come.”
“Not even for a thousand dollars?”
“Nope,” Twin said.
“But why?” Richard demanded.
“’Cause I gave my word,” Twin said.
“You gave your word? What does that mean?” Richard asked.
“Just what I said,” Twin said. “Don’t you understand English?”
“But this is ridiculous,” Richard said.
“Hey, it’s your party,” Twin said. “You have to do your own shit.”
Richard found himself holding a dead telephone. He slammed the receiver down. “That worthless bum,” he spat. “He won’t do it. I can’t believe it.”
Terese pushed herself up into a sitting position. “So much for that idea. That puts us back to square one.”
“Don’t look at me. I’m not doing it,” Richard snapped. “I’ve made that crystal clear. It’s up to you, sister. Hell, all this was for your benefit, not mine.”
“Supposedly,” Terese retorted. “But you got some perverted enjoyment out of it. You finally got to use those bugs you’ve been playing with all your life. Yet now you can’t do this simple thing. You’re some sort of…” She struggled for the word: “Degenerate!” she said finally.
“Well, you’re no Snow White yourself,” Richard yelled. “No wonder that husband of yours left you.”
Terese’s face flushed. She opened her mouth but no words came out. Suddenly she lunged for the gun.
Richard took a step backward. He feared he’d overdone it by mentioning the unmentionable. For a second he thought Terese was about to use the gun on him. But instead she flew into the kitchen, cocking the gun as she went. She stepped up to Jack and pointed the gun at his bloodied face.