by Jim Reeves
‘Near enough,’ Bishop nodded.
‘Ok, where’s the gymnasium?’
Bishop opened the first door on the left and entered the room, flicking the light switch. Joe followed Vince as he scraped through the door way carrying Pete. The room was a surprisingly large and well equipped gymnasium.
Joe looked at Vince. ‘Expect you’ve had some fun in here.’
Vince shrugged and almost managed a smile.
‘I use it myself,’ said Bishop who was a few feet to Joe’s left. Vince had moved to Joe’s right. ‘Now what?’ Bishop asked.
As Joe looked briefly at Bishop, Vince heaved Pete off his shoulders and, holding his ankles, swung him like a human club and hit Joe full in the face.
The gun went off. Joe felt a slight recoil as the bullet left the gun. The noise echoed around the room as he fell backwards. The wind was knocked out of him but he still held onto the gun as he hit the floor. He lay on his back looking around wildly for Vince as he gulped air into his deprived lungs. Bishop was suddenly leaning over him, trying to wrestle the gun out of his hand. Joe tried a head butt but Bishop was out of reach. He grabbed Bishop’s shirt and pulled him forward, yanking him sideways and they rolled over, face to face. Bishop tried for the gun again but Joe pulled his hand free and pushed the gun hard into Bishop’s throat. Bishop gave up the struggle instantly and backed off, crawling crablike away from Joe. As he scrambled to his feet, Joe expected Vince to grab him from behind, nothing happened.
He heard a low moan and looked around to see Vince lying on the floor with a hand to his left leg. There was a red stain near the top of his thigh. It was spreading rapidly.
‘Jesus Christ!’ Joe looked disbelievingly at the gun in his hand.
Bishop was on his feet now, breathing heavily, watching Joe warily.
‘I’m bleeding to death here,’ groaned Vince. ‘Christ, I don’t feel good.’ Tears were running down his face.
‘I feel a bit dicey myself,’ Joe told him. ‘I never put a bullet in anybody before.’
Pete was lying on the floor wrestling with the tape again. Joe aimed the gun and pulled the trigger. A bullet planted itself in the wooden floor about a foot from Pete’s head. Joe flinched as the sound of the shot bounced off the walls. Bishop ducked and backed away from Joe.
‘I won’t tell you again,’ Joe warned Pete, who now lay rigid.
Bishop looked questioningly at Joe. ‘All right Joe, you’ve had your fun and look what’s happened. Can we talk now?’
‘Let’s finish the tour,’ Joe rasped. ‘You’ve got work to do now. Help him up.’ He nodded at Vince, squirming on the floor.
Joe backed away while Bishop eased Vince into a sitting position, then slowly onto his feet. He held Vince’s arm round his shoulder and supported him.
‘Christ,’ whimpered Vince. ‘I gotta get to a doctor.’
‘No rush, it’s only a flesh wound,’ Joe said. ‘Go,’ he said to Bishop and watched the duo hobble into the corridor. He grabbed Pete’s collar and pulled him through the door on his backside.
‘What’s next?’ he asked Bishop.
Bishop and Vince made slow progress down the corridor towards the next door. Bishop opened it to reveal another room stocked with dozens of cases of wine.
‘Impressive,’ Joe said, noting several good labels.
‘We keep a good cellar,’ nodded Bishop incongruously, given the circumstances.
‘For Christ’s sake get me out of here,’ pleaded Vince, his face contorted with pain.
Joe stared impassively for a few more seconds. It was interesting but not what he was looking for. ‘Next,’ he said to Bishop.
Bishop led the way with Vince and Joe followed, dragging Pete. The next door led to the kitchen. Joe nodded and Bishop helped Vince into the room. Joe followed, hitting the light switches as he went. The room was flooded with light as a dozen fluorescent lights flickered into life. The kitchen was long and narrow. It contained tall white cupboards on the left hand wall and gleaming worktops on the right. Several microwave ovens were built into the wall cupboards.
Joe nodded and indicated for Bishop to walk the length of the room. Bishop frowned but dragged the unhappy Vince with him. Joe pulled Pete in Bishop’s wake.
At the end of the room was a heavy door with a large lever handle.
‘What’s that?’ asked Joe.
‘The freezer,’ Bishop told him.
‘Open it.’
Bishop lifted the lever and swung the door open. It was a walk in freezer about eight feet deep with a narrow aisle and shelves on both sides. Dozens of cartons of ready-made meals were stacked on the shelves.
‘Gourmet meals in a box,’ Joe said. ‘How much do you charge for that crap?’
‘We need quick meals,’ Bishop said. ‘We never have any complaints.’
A hand grabbed Joe’s ankle. He stumbled and went down on his knees, losing his grip on Pete’s collar. As he turned he saw that Pete had finally got his hands free and was tearing frantically at the tape around his ankles as he sat on the floor. Joe rose and stabbed at Pete with his foot, hitting the side of his head. Pete rocked back against the wall clutching his ear, the tape forgotten for the moment.
Bishop let Vince fall to the floor with an agonized scream as he leapt forward and grabbed Joe from behind. Joe dropped the gun as his arms were pinned to his side. Bishop held Joe in a bear hug and squeezed hard. His only intention seemed to be to hold Joe until Pete had freed himself. No doubt, Pete would do the rest. Joe was surprised at Bishop’s strength. He really had spent time in his gymnasium. Joe was rocking from side to side trying, without success, to break free. He could feel Bishop’s breath on the back of his neck as he chortled gleefully at the sudden turnaround in fortunes.
In front of Joe, Pete recovered from the blow to his head. He shot Joe an evil look and returned to the tape bound round his ankles. It looked as though Pete’s feet were bound better than his hands had been but Joe had only seconds before he would be free and lethal. There would be no toying around this time, Joe was sure of that. In the narrow kitchen, there was no chance of Joe getting past Pete once he was free. Death was only a few seconds away. Joe strained against Bishop’s hold bumping from side to side, trying to shake him off. Bishop grunted with satisfaction as he held on.
As they struggled and swayed Joe looked down and saw Bishop’s feet shuffle close to his own, maybe two feet apart. Joe steadied himself, then lifted his left foot sharply upwards behind him and smiled as his heel met the softness of Bishop’s undercarriage with a satisfying thud. Bishop bucked slightly, grunted in surprise and immediately released his grip on Joe. Joe half turned and drove his elbow hard into Bishop’s face.
As Bishop sank to the floor Joe dived for the gun just as Pete freed his ankles. He grabbed the gun and squeezed the trigger without aiming. A bullet splintered a cupboard door as Joe’s momentum took him on towards Pete. The shot had the desired effect and bought Joe a vital second as Pete hesitated. Joe rammed the smoking gun hard into Pete’s mouth, cracking the barrel against his teeth. Pete recoiled from the gun coughing as smoke caught in his throat.
Joe rose to his feet, aiming the gun at Pete, checking on Bishop and Vince as he did so. Bishop was on the floor nursing his injuries. Vince was sat on the floor, leaning against a cupboard crying with pain.
Joe looked down at Pete. ‘You’re really starting to get on my nerves,’ he said breathlessly, as he held the gun inches from his head. He nodded towards the freezer. ‘Get in there.’
Pete looked towards the freezer then looked back at Joe. His eyes said everything. There was no fear. No plea for mercy. Just acceptance that he would die in the freezer.
‘Do it,’ Joe said quietly.
Pete rose and stood facing Joe.
‘Very slowly,’ Joe told him. He held the gun in a two handed grip. Pete backed slowly towards the freezer, stepping over Bishop and Vince as he went. He stopped at the threshold of the freezer. His last chance to try somethi
ng. Now was the moment when he might risk all. Joe fired a shot at the wall just above the freezer. The bullet smacked into the wall and Pete backed hurriedly into the freezer as the sound bounced around the room.
Joe was losing count of how many bullets he had used now. He had no idea how many bullets the gun held but he was sure he could handle Vince and Bishop in their present state, if he had to. Pete was the only real threat.
‘Get up,’ he told Bishop.
Bishop held onto a cupboard and rose painfully, still clutching his groin. His right eye was closed and his nose was bleeding.
‘What do you want?’ he asked Joe desperately. ‘Everybody’s got a price.’
‘Don’t worry. We’re getting there,’ whispered Joe encouragingly.
‘Tell me what it is?’ pleaded Bishop.
Joe pointed at Vince with the gun. ‘Get him on his feet.’
Bishop struggled to pull Vince to his feet. He finally succeeded with a lot of agonized groaning from Vince. The whole of Vince’s trouser leg was crimson. His face was white. He looked in a pretty bad way as he supported himself against a worktop.
Joe glanced at Pete. He was well inside the freezer.
‘Get him into the freezer,’ he told Bishop, nodding at Vince.
‘Christ, no!’ Vince pleaded.
‘The cold air will slow down the bleeding,’ Joe told him to ease his fears.
‘He’s going to need a doctor pretty quick,’ Bishop said.
‘Get him in there,’ Joe said. ‘Now.’
Bishop shuffled sideways as he eased Vince into the narrow aisle in the freezer and leaned him against the shelving. Vince was crying mournfully. Pete was wedged behind Vince.
‘Close the door’ Joe said as Bishop stepped out of the freezer.
Bishop hesitated. Once the door was closed he would be on his own with Joe. Beaten and at his mercy.
‘Close it,’ Joe repeated. He raised the gun and aimed at Bishop’s head.
Pete stared impassively at Joe from behind Vince.
Vince, lunged, wide-eyed, towards the doorway, forgetting his wound.
‘No,’ he screamed.
Joe turned to point the gun at Vince. ‘We’ll be back. I just need some private time with your man here.’
Vince stopped in the doorway, fear etched into his ashen face. His whole body trembled. The stink of urine suddenly permeated the air. Joe nodded at Bishop and he closed the heavy freezer door and pushed the large lever handle down to secure it.
‘Don’t that feel good?’ Joe said.
Bishop didn’t answer.
‘Not so brave now is he?’ Joe muttered.
Bishop looked questioningly at Joe, completely servile.
Joe jabbed him with the gun. ‘Upstairs. Your office.’
Bishop turned and led the way. Joe relaxed a notch but stayed alert as he followed Bishop. Bishop was on his home territory and was desperate.
They entered the office and Joe pointed at the desk.
‘Sit down. You can talk me through the stuff on your computer.’
Bishop sat down facing his computer screen. Joe sat on the edge of his desk with the gun resting on Bishop’s shoulder, touching his ear with the muzzle.
‘You can make this easy or you can make it difficult,’ Joe said, his voice a harsh whisper. ‘Been a long night. Easy would be better.’
Bishop nodded. ‘What do you want?’ He asked.
‘Switching the thing on might be a good move,’ suggested Joe.
Bishop switched the computer on and they waited a few seconds.
‘Enter the password,’ instructed Joe.
Bishop entered the password.
‘Ok, now disable the password, so it won’t be needed again.’ Joe said
Bishop went through the process and did as he was told.
‘Go right to the top,’ Joe said. ‘I want to see all of your folders.’
Joe watched as Bishop typed. Joe leaned forward and pointed at the screen.
‘Open that one.’
Bishop was trembling and fumbling and making hard work of the task.
‘Ok, get over there where I can see you,’ Joe told him impatiently.
Bishop went to the far side of the office and looked at Joe.
‘Lie face down on the floor,’ Joe ordered. He aimed the gun at arm’s length.
Bishop lay face down and Joe sat in front of the computer. He spent several minutes browsing folders and looking at files. Names, dates, amounts, photographs. Bishop’s activities were pretty diverse and covered several countries. As rumours had suggested, he had his fingers in many pies. Pornography, prostitution, illegal immigration. He seemed to have dabbled in them all. They all had two things in common. They exploited people and they paid well.
‘You’ve been a busy boy,’ he told Bishop as he scrolled through screen after screen. When he had seen enough he stood up. ‘Right. On your feet.’
Bishop stood up shakily and looked fearfully at Joe.
‘You really are a piece of shit,’ Joe grimaced. ‘Is there any sewer you don’t dip your toe in?’
‘I just meet a demand,’ Bishop said.
‘Using kids? You told me there was nothing nasty in that package I delivered.’
Bishop avoided Joe’s gaze and didn’t answer.
‘I want blank CDs, envelopes and stamps,’ Joe told him.
‘CDs are in the bottom drawer. Stamps in the top drawer’ Bishop said pointing at the desk. He went to a cupboard, took out some large envelopes and put them on the desk.
‘Right, we’d better get back and see how the boys are getting on,’ Joe said.
‘What are you going to do now?’ Bishop whimpered pitifully.
‘We go back downstairs.’
‘This isn’t your style Joe,’ Bishop said. ‘Guns and violence.’
‘I could get to like it,’ smiled Joe. He raised the gun and indicated the door. ‘Let’s go.’
‘I got two kids Joe,’ Bishop told him.
‘Congratulations.’ Joe pushed Bishop towards the stairs.
‘Are you going to let me go?’
Joe didn’t answer.
‘We’re going to let them out the freezer aren’t we?’ asked Bishop.
‘Ask yourself,’ Joe said. ‘What would the Chink do if I let him out?’
‘He’ll do what I tell him,’ Bishop said defiantly.
‘Somehow, I think not,’ Joe muttered. ‘We only met a couple of hours ago but already, we’re not best buddies. He wants me dead. There’s not room on this planet for both of us.’
‘OK, forget Pete. You can have him. Leave him in the bloody freezer,’ Bishop said. ‘He’s nothing. Do what you like with him.’
‘What about Vince?’ Joe asked.
‘He needs a doctor fast.’
‘How would you explain the bullet?’
‘I’ve got friends,’ Bishop said. ‘I know people. One phone call and I can have somebody here in half an hour. He’ll patch Vince up. No questions asked.’
‘I wouldn’t rest easy once he got back on his feet,’ Joe said.
`He’ll behave. Trust me Joe.’
‘Like I’d trust a snake in the grass,’ Joe snorted.
He pushed Bishop and he stumbled down the stairs and into the corridor below. They reached the kitchen. Bishop was looking desperately back at Joe now. As they reached the door of the freezer Bishop turned to face him. ‘Anything you want Joe. You can have all the money in the safe. Take it.’
‘I intend to,’ smiled Joe.
‘I’ve got more money. As soon as the bank opens . . . .’
‘Turn around and open the door’ Joe ordered.
‘For God’s sake Joe.’ Bishop was blubbering. He grabbed Joe’s lapels but Joe swept his arms aside.
‘What can I say?’ pleaded Bishop.
‘Remember the cat? Remember when Vince broke its neck?’
Bishop nodded.
‘Hold that image in your mind,’ whispered Joe. He dug the gun h
ard into Bishop’s cheek. ‘You know any prayers?’
Bishop nodded fearfully.
‘Now’d be a good time, Joe told him. ‘Open the door.’
Bishop turned, Trembling and sobbing. As he held the long lever on the handle. Joe moved in close and held the gun by his head, pointing at the ceiling. Bishop lifted the handle slowly.
‘Easy,’ whispered Joe.
With the lever fully raised Bishop pulled the door open. As soon as the gap was wide enough, Joe fired a shot into the ceiling causing Bishop to jump involuntarily forward and tangle with Pete who was waiting just inside the freezer as Joe had expected. Vince shouted something inaudible from further inside the freezer. Joe pushed Bishop hard in the back to add to the confusion, swung the heavy door closed and pulled down the lever on the handle.
He leaned his back against the freezer door for several long moments, breathing heavily. His eyes were closed. He was in great torment. He weighed up every option but always came back to the same answer. It had to be this way. It was them or him. Nothing else worked. He walked to a sink, ran a cold tap and washed his face. He held his head under the tap and let the water run over him for a while, trying to wash away the image of what was happening inside the freezer. Then he stood resting against the worktop feeling sick inside. Bishop had been right. No matter how much anger he had, guns and violence weren’t really his style. Not loaded guns anyway.
He wasn’t sure if he could ever point a gun at somebody and pull the trigger. Probably not. Maybe leaving somebody to freeze to death in a car or this freezer was as far as he could go. He wasn’t killing them outright there and then. There was a chance that somebody might come along and let them out. Not much of a chance, but it was possible. He shuddered to think what Pete might do if he ever got out of the freezer alive.
The adrenalin rush he had got from overcoming first Pete and then Vince was beginning to fade. Tiredness was descending rapidly but he couldn’t sleep yet. He still had work to do.
Joe searched the cupboards facing him until he found what he was looking for – cleaning materials, rubber gloves, spray bottles of disinfectant and bleach and cloths. He donned a pair of rubber gloves, took one of the bleach bottles and set about spraying and wiping down every surface he might have touched. All of the worktops, the freezer door and handle, the floor where he had fallen in the struggle. When he had finished he kept the bottle of bleach and the cloth for use upstairs.