Angel of Darkness

by Christopher Nicole

  ‘I hope you don’t think I’m being inquisitive,’ Hamilton said.

  ‘As a matter of fact, you are. But if it amuses you, keep going.’ You may well eventually hang yourself, she thought.

  ‘It’s just that in addition to being incredibly beautiful, you are incredible interesting.’

  ‘Would I be interesting if I were as ugly as sin?’

  ‘Do you know, I think you would. There is so much about you that is tantalizingly mysterious. Hello!’ He slowed the car. ‘Which way?’

  The road in front of them suddenly bifurcated, one arm following the coast to the right, round a low but sheer hill, the other continuing straight ahead.

  ‘They both go in the same direction, and join up a bit further on. But I would stick with this one. The one on the right is the old road, but it became very crumbly and unsafe, so they punched this new road through the hill.’

  ‘Ambitious. There are lights.’

  ‘Gambier Village. Only a couple of miles, now. There. Pull down that path to the right, but take it slowly.’

  They passed the lights and he changed down and turned off the surfaced road on to a track, slowly descending through a small forest of coconut trees. ‘Wow!’ he commented.

  ‘Isn’t it something?’

  Hamilton stopped the car where the track ended in sand, and gazed at an almost perfect crescent of beach, stretching from shallow headland to shallow headland. The water lapped gently at the sand, perhaps thirty yards away; and beyond, a couple of hundred yards offshore, there was a ripple of surf on the reef. ‘And your beach is better than this?’

  ‘Oh, yes. But as I said, mainly because it’s utterly private.’ Anna got out of the car, took off her shoes, and stepped on to the sand. ‘But this is a close second, because it’s far enough out of town to make it a bit too much of an expedition for your average tourist.’ She walked down the sand. ‘Won’t you join me?’

  He got out, his shoes crunching, drew a long breath. Would she? Did he dare? ‘If we had our swimsuits with us we could go for a moonlight dip. Or are there likely to be sharks or something at night?’

  ‘Sharks seldom come inside the reef, even at night. And of course we’re going to have a moonlight dip. That’s why I brought you here.’

  *

  Hamilton felt physically sick. She would!

  Anna dropped her shoes, released her dress, and let it slide past her shoulders to the sand. Back to the laundry. But tomorrow she’d be wearing slacks. ‘I don’t own a swimsuit,’ she explained.

  Hamilton licked his lips as he realized that she was wearing nothing under the dress save her knickers, and these now also sank round her ankles. She stepped out of them and turned to face him. ‘Or do you have something to hide?’

  He could hardly breathe. The moonlight, streaming across the water to reach her, seemed to lift her out of the darkness in a halo of light. He wished it was coming from behind him. But even in the gloom, if her pubic hair was indistinct, nothing could hide those magnificent breasts, although the nipples were unclear, or her splendid thighs and unforgettable legs. ‘I . . . ah . . . I have more to take off.’

  ‘Then I think you should start doing that.’

  ‘But what about that jewellery? It looks very expensive.’

  ‘It is. But salt water isn’t going to harm it.’

  ‘And the watch? Is it gold?’

  ‘It is, and it’s waterproof.’

  ‘It’s a very unusual design.’

  ‘That’s probably because it’s German.’

  She walked down the beach and the water rippled around her ankles; it had not yet cooled off from the heat of the day, and was warmer than the night air. It reached her knees and then her thighs. When it was round her waist and starting to wet her hair, she turned back to look at the beach and watch him wading towards her. He was facing the moon, and was certainly a fine figure of a man. The sight of her naked had had a pronounced effect.

  But she had no intention of having sex with him. This had nothing to do with any ethical scruple about betraying Clive, who knew that she would always do whatever she deemed necessary to stay in front of any threats to her security, but rather that Mark Hamilton, while certainly not distasteful in any way as a man, was an enigma. Thus for the moment she was using her various weapons to destroy his defences. What might happen after that would depend on just what those collapsing defences revealed.

  He was close, and she ducked her head completely to soak her hair, and then swam away from him, the golden cloud drifting behind her. ‘Where are you?’ he called, anxiously, uncertain in the moonlight shimmering on the water.

  Anna submerged, and swam beneath the surface, back to him. She came up behind him – he was now shoulder deep – and wrapped both arms round his chest and both legs round his thighs. ‘Right here.’

  ‘Anna! Oh, Anna.’

  As she was taking deep breaths her breasts inflated against his back, her hardened nipples scouring his flesh. He tried to turn, still in her embrace, but she was too strong for him and retained her position.

  ‘Anna!’ he gasped. ‘Please.’

  She relaxed her grip, and he did turn. She had allowed her legs to drop, but now she brought them up again, resuming their grasp on his thighs while she felt him rise between them. ‘Can you do it standing up?’

  ‘Anna!’ He found her mouth with his own, kissed her parted lips. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ she said. ‘If you’ll tell me who you really are, and what you really want.’

  ‘Oh, Anna . . .’ And then he looked past her; her back was to the beach. ‘Oh, my God! People!’

  *

  ‘What are we going to do?’ he asked, his brain seething with alarm and frustration.

  ‘Tell you what,’ Anna said, now in a thoroughly mischievous mood. ‘We could give them a thrill.’

  ‘Anna, there are three men.’

  Anna released him and slid down into the water, her feet touched the sand as she turned to look at the beach. The three men had come out of the trees beside the car, and were standing above their clothes.

  ‘I thought you said no one ever comes here?’ Hamilton protested.

  ‘I said visitors seldom come here. Those are local, probably from Gambier.’

  ‘Do you think they know we’re here?’

  ‘Of course they know we’re here.’

  ‘But if we stay out here, in the water, won’t they go away?’

  Two of the men were kneeling beside their clothes.

  ‘They may,’ Anna agreed. ‘But if they do, they’ll take our clothes with them. They’ll also take the car.’ She started to wade towards the beach.

  ‘Anna . . . you can’t go ashore.’

  ‘I have no intention of being stuck fourteen miles from Nassau with no transport and no clothes.’

  ‘But there are three of them!’

  The adrenalin was pumping. ‘But there are two of us, one of whom is me. The odds are all in our favour.’

  He gazed at her back; this view was almost as compelling as her front. What to do? He was a highly trained operative, and entirely capable of taking care of himself in a punch-up. But it was no part of his plan to let her know that. And besides, he had a sudden urge to discover just how she would handle herself, if her skills were as remarkable as her reputation. He could always pick up the pieces afterwards.

  The sea was down to her thighs, water draining out of her hair. She didn’t know whether or not he was following her. The men on the beach had now realized that she was approaching them. For a few seconds they watched her as she emerged, thighs and then legs uncovering: even in the semi-darkness, she knew she was an unforgettable sight. Then they muttered at each other. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but one called out. ‘Hey woman, what you want?’

  ‘I want you to put down those things you have just picked up, including the car keys, and then clear off.’

  ‘You stupid or what?’

  ‘Man,’ sa
id the second man. ‘You seeing them tits?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said the third. ‘I got to get me hands on them.’

  They hadn’t yet noticed the jewellery.

  Anna left the water ‘If you put all that stuff back, and leave now,’ she said, speaking quietly, ‘you won’t be harmed.’

  ‘You,’ remarked the first man, ‘going harm us? Man, you know what we going do with you? We going take sweetness from you. You come here.’

  Anna obligingly obeyed. Now her whole body was a seethe of latent energy, as was her brain. After fourteen years she dearly, and genuinely, wanted to call a halt to her violent career, but she knew she was going to miss the blood-tingling excitement of going into action. And if these foolish layabouts wanted trouble . . .

  ‘That’s right,’ the first man said. ‘Now you get down on your hands and knees, and crawl over here. Is your ass I want first.’

  The fools had not even separated, to force her to decide who to attack first. But now the leader came forward as, again obediently, she dropped to her hands and knees, digging the fingers of her left hand into the sand. The idiot was actually turning folly into suicide: by unbuckling his belt and starting to drop his pants, both occupying his hands and hindering his movements. ‘You got sense,’ he commented. ‘You just stay so, and I ain’t going hurt you. Well, only a little.’

  He was standing above her, holding his pants round his knees with one hand, fondling a massive erection with the other. Anna waited as he went round her to stand behind her. ‘Man,’ he said. ‘That is the sweetest ass I ever did see.’

  Anna moved with all the lightning speed developed over her years of training and experience. She reared on to her knees, turning as she did so, and her left hand delivered the moulded ball of damp sand she had gathered into the man’s face. He uttered a yell of dismay, while Anna’s right arm, travelling with all her force and ending in a hand held rigid and as hard as steel, crashed into his genitals. Now he gave a scream of the purest agony, and dropped to his knees in turn, both hands clutching his injured organ.

  But Anna knew too well that the only mistake one could make in a serious fight was to give an opponent a chance to recover. She rose to her feet and again swung her right arm, as usual with all of her force and this time with all of her body weight as well, into his shoulder where it joined his neck. The scream ended as if a switch had been turned off, and his body collapsed in a heap at her feet.

  Anna knelt beside him, tested his pulse. Damn! she thought. The blow could have been controlled – without her full weight it need not have been fatal – but at that moment she had been consumed with hatred, for the various men, and women, who had from time to time raped her, or attempted to do so. Not one of them was still alive.

  ‘Christ, woman,’ said one of the other men. ‘What you done? You done hurt him.’

  ‘Actually,’ Anna said, rising to her feet, ‘I done kill him.’

  They goggled at her.

  ‘So my advice to you,’ she continued, ‘is to clear off before anyone else gets hurt. But first of all give me the car keys.’

  ‘Bitch,’ the man said. ‘You fucking bitch! You kill Billy! I going cut them fucking tits right off.’ His sexual interest in her seemed to have dwindled, but now he ran at her.

  ‘Anna!’ Hamilton shouted from behind her. ‘He’s got a knife!’

  Anna has seen the glint of steel in the moonlight. She stood absolutely still until he reached her, and carved at her with a huge sweep of the blade. Then she skipped to one side, and in the split second before he could turn back had moved behind him and against him, throwing her left arm round his neck. He struck behind himself, but as he did so she slid her right hand down his arm to grasp his wrist, released his neck to seize his upper arm with her left, and forced the arm down with all her strength, at the same time bringing her right knee up, equally with all her force.

  The crack sounded almost like a pistol shot, and was accompanied by another piercing scream. The knife fell to the sand and she kicked it away. The man dropped to his knees, pawing at his right arm with his left hand. ‘You break me arm,’ he wailed. ‘You break me arm.’

  ‘Oh, me God!’ cried the other man. ‘You break he arm.’

  ‘He should have taken my advice,’ Anna said severely. ‘It could easily have been his neck. Now, you . . .’

  ‘I ain’t done nothing,’ he shouted. ‘I ain’t doing nothing.’

  ‘That is a very wise decision,’ Anna agreed. ‘Bring those keys to me.’

  ‘Mistress . . .’

  ‘Just do it.’ Her voiced cracked like a whip. ‘Or would you prefer me to come to you?’

  ‘I coming, mistress. I coming.’

  He advanced cautiously, left arm extended, keys dangling from his fingers. Anna didn’t know whether he was armed, but he showed no inclination to attack her. She took the keys. ‘Thank you. Now help your friend to get up, and take him away. You’re only a couple of miles from Gambier, as I am sure you know, and you should be able to get some help for his arm there.’

  ‘But what we going do about Billy?’

  ‘I don’t think there is anything you can do about Billy, save inform his family that he is deceased, and have his body collected and buried. Good night.’

  The man heaved his moaning companion to his feet, and the pair disappeared into the darkness.

  *

  Hamilton finally left the water to stand beside Anna on the sand, aware of a flood of conflicting emotions. Consternation, certainly; in all his years in the field, he had never seen such immediate and total destruction of the opposition . . . without the use of a weapon. Professional admiration was tinged with apprehension; the suspicion that he might fare no better were he that opposition . . . except that he would know what to expect. But also a realization that, as long as he played his cards right, she was vulnerable, because she trusted him. As now. She was naked, and standing with her back to him. Were he armed with his favourite weapon, the knife, he could complete the entire operation now with a single thrust into her back followed by a pass across her throat. And there was a knife lying on the sand at her feet. If he dared. If, indeed, he could bring himself to destroy such perfection. But until he had come to a decision, it was essential to preserve the image he had created, that of a fly-by-night rendered totally out of his depths by what had happened. ‘My God!’ he said ‘What are we going to do?’

  Anna gave him the keys. ‘Leave. We can dress later. When we’ve dried a bit.’

  ‘We’ll have to be dressed by the time we reach the police station.’

  ‘Mark, we are not going to the police station. When we’ve dried and are dressed, we’ll go back to the hotel and go to bed.’

  ‘But . . . we must report what happened.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Anna . . .’ he almost wailed. ‘You have just killed a man. And probably crippled another.’

  ‘I don’t think I had too much choice. If there is one thing I abhor, it is being raped. And they would have taken my jewellery. Apart from the value, it has a considerable sentimental importance for me.’

  ‘Well, of course it was self-defence. I’ll support you.’

  ‘It would still mean a hell of a lot of publicity, and that I can do without.’

  ‘But you can’t just walk away from a dead man. If we don’t report it, those men certainly will. And they’ll be telling their story first.’

  ‘What story do you suppose they are going to tell? That they were taking a stroll along Love Beach and were suddenly attacked by a maniacal white woman who killed one of them and probably crippled another? Let’s say that you’re a police sergeant and a couple of layabouts approached you with that tale, what would your reaction be? Apart from the obvious one that they had to be drunk.’

  ‘But when they find the body . . .?’

  ‘When they find the body, which I shouldn’t think will be for some time, because our friends are not going to report it at all. Anyway, if they did make the mi
stake of reporting it, the police would draw the obvious conclusion. Clearly the three of them were walking on the beach, drunk, they quarrelled, had a fight, and one of them got killed. The other two panicked, and concocted this fantastic story about some murderous woman. They’d be laughed all the way to the noose. Ugh! I stink of stale sweat from that bastard. I’m just going to have a quick dip.’

  She went back into the water, knelt in the shallows, watching him, just in case he was tempted to abandon her. But he seemed petrified.

  Actually, he was again considering possible options. He was within six feet of the knife. But he knew she was watching him. It could no longer be a surprise thrust. And the thought of opposing that terrifying speed and strength, not to mention that unearthly beauty, face to face, was indeed paralysing. He could still hear that bone breaking. So he reminded himself that that was not his remit. Indeed, it had been specifically forbidden.

  She returned out of the water, shook herself, gathered up her clothes; and Hamilton stirred. ‘What about the knife?’

  ‘That stays right there,’ she said. ‘The only prints on it are those of its owner. Another reason for him not to say a word. Let’s move.’

  He scooped up his own clothes and followed her. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t kill them all,’ he remarked, in a feeble attempt at sarcasm.

  Anna got into the car. ‘I never believe in taking life unnecessarily.’

  He digested this as he started the engine and made a three-point turn. Then he said, ‘You know, you almost sound as if you’ve done this sort of thing before.’

  ‘My life has had its ups and downs,’ she conceded.

  He negotiated the track in silence, and they reached the road. ‘Turn right,’ she commanded.

  ‘What? Aren’t we going back to town?’

  ‘There’s another road that runs down the centre of the island. I’ll show you the way. If we return along the coast we’ll probably run into those two again, and by now they may have met up with friends – who could then support at least part of their story, that their attacker was driving a possibly identifiable car. If we don’t turn up, they have nothing at all save their fantasy.’