Jacob's Ladder (Stone & Randall 1)

by Ellis, Tim

  ‘Athena, four thirty, Tuesday morning. Shit Mr Randall, what do you want us to do?’

  ‘Athena, six o’clock, Tuesday. If you don’t contact me in the next hour, I’m going to call off my surveillance. Not really, but will you fucking contact the goddess of beauty.’

  It was six forty. He navigated to his phonebook and rang Athena.

  ‘Christ, Mr Randall, where the fuck have you been?’

  ‘I was unable to ring you. Is Pike still there?’

  ‘Yes, and he’s not alone.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘We’ve counted four of them in there.’

  ‘What are they doing?’

  ‘As you know, Mr Randall, I’m exceptionally gifted and beautiful, but even I can’t see through walls.’

  ‘Are you there, or is it one of your flunkies?’

  ‘I’m here. My flunky, as you call him, phoned me and I came and joined him.’

  ‘I’ll be there within the hour. Ring me if there’s any movement.’

  ‘Will do.’

  He phoned Molly, but was directed to her voicemail. ‘We’ve got something, Molly, Pike’s back from Israel. Last night he left by the secret exit and is now in a building, which used to be an abattoir, in Blood Alley next to Shepherd’s Bush Market. And the bastard’s not on his own. Get your arse over there when you receive this message. Oh, by the way, you’ll laugh your tits off when you hear what happened yesterday.’

  After ending the call and putting the phone in his pocket, he took his donkey jacket from the dirty clothes pile and put it on. It would need to wait to be dry-cleaned. Next, he took the Glock out of the rucksack and eased the magazine back in. He checked there wasn’t a round in the chamber that the safety was on, and slipped it in the waistband at the small of his back. He thought it was probably a good job he wasn’t a copper anymore because the way he’d been disarmed at Viking Wharf like an amateur he imagined the DCI would have ripped up his permit and made him re-take the firearms course. The last thing he did before leaving the flat was stuff the newspapers in the rucksack to read on the tube.

  At the station, while waiting for the seven fifty-five to Shepherd’s Bush Market, he phoned Kiri and made his apologies for breakfast. He said he’d try to make it for lunch, but if he couldn’t, he’d definitely be back for dinner tonight.

  The two stations took ten minutes, and he only had enough time to read the article by Catherine Cox in the Hammersmith Herald, which revisited the murders and revealed Malachi Pike’s family tree and subsequent adoption that Ruby had sent to her. He guessed that the nationals would pick it up, and Pike was now a marked man.

  Exiting the station, he walked along Uxbridge Road, turned left into Bulwer Street, and right into Caxton Street. He found Athena and her flunky in a new blue Vauxhall Astravan at the top of Blood Alley.

  ‘I thought something had happened to you when I couldn’t get hold of you, Mr Randall,’ Athena said getting out of the van dressed in a bright red Eskimo coat with a fur-lined hood and a pair of yellow snow boots, although it wasn’t snowing yet.

  ‘You’re meant to be inconspicuous during surveillance,’ he said.

  ‘I am inconspicuous. No one would believe I was watching them dressed like this.’

  He shrugged. ‘Yes, you’re probably right.’

  ‘I presume you’re going in. Do you want us to wait, just in case?’

  ‘No need, the cops are on the way, but thanks anyway.’

  ‘If you say so, Mr Randall.’

  He made his way along Blood Alley towards the derelict abattoir that, according to the barely legible sign, used to belong to Reznia and Sons but was now owned by Ruben Sands.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  The darkness was complete. She felt the room swaying like a hammock strung between two palm trees, and wanted to vomit. Her arms and legs were splayed out, and secured at the wrists and ankles. She was cold and naked. What had happened? She’d been with Andrew at the Mexican restaurant, but then everything after that was a blank. Was there anything after the restaurant? Where was she? Why was she naked? Why couldn’t she move? Her body felt as though she’d had sex, but she couldn’t remember having done so. She heard the sound of a metal door scraping open. Bright lights flickered on above her. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  ‘Hello, Princess. I’m glad you’re awake.’

  Opening her eyes, she saw Andrew standing over her. ‘What’s happening, Andrew?’

  She watched as he drew out a clear liquid from a small glass bottle into a syringe and injected it into her arm.

  ‘You’re sick, Princess.’

  She felt woozy. Although Andrew was there, she couldn’t seem to bring him into focus. Tonight, hadn’t she promised to give herself to him? She felt his hands on her body, kneading her breasts, his warm tongue lashing her nipples. It had been so long since she’d felt a man’s body pressing down on her that she became excited. She felt the anticipation as she waited for him to take her, to push himself deep inside her – then he was there and she thrust her hips to meet him. His warm breath on her neck, his soft hands caressing her breasts, and his manhood pushing into her. God, he filled every inch of her. They were like two lovers coalescing, bodies becoming one, and juices commingling. This was what she had been waiting for.

  In the dungeons of her mind there was a strange nagging feeling as she tottered on the precipice. And although her body shuddered like an earthquake that she thought she would never experience again, questions rattled at the dungeon door: Where was she? Why couldn’t she move? Why couldn’t she remember anything? There were other questions, but they refused to define themselves.

  ***

  Oh God! She had never enjoyed sex so much. Andrew didn’t smell like Andrew, his hands were rougher, and he called her a bitch and a whore. She didn’t care, just so long as he kept pleasing her. How many times had they done it now – three, seven, ten, a hundred? She felt him inside her again, thrusting pounding. He was going to rip her apart. Her body burned like a pyre. She shuddered again. What time was it? Why had she waited for so long? Why had she deprived herself of all this ecstasy. Now, she would wallow in it like a hog in a mud pool.

  ‘Hello, Molly.’

  ‘Do I know you?’

  ‘I’m Jacob.’

  ‘Hello, Jacob.’

  ‘Are you enjoying yourself?’

  ‘Oh yes. Are we going to do it again?’

  ‘Yes we are, Molly. We’re going to do it until you scream for me to stop.’

  ‘I’ll never ask you to stop.’

  ‘You will, Molly. They all do in the end.’

  ***

  ‘Wake up, Molly.’

  ‘What’s wrong with me, Andrew?’

  ‘You’ve not been well.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I’ve brought you some soup.’

  ‘You’re so kind. I like soup. Is it tomato?’

  ‘Yes.’ He propped her up, scooped a spoonful of soup from the bowl, blew on it, and put it in her open mouth.

  ‘Mmm, lovely.’

  While he fed her, she looked around at her surroundings. She was in a room with red quarry tiles on the floor. There was a line of thick block wood tables – one of which she had been strapped to. They reminded her of the wooden slabs in a butcher’s shop. Above her, a large metal pulley system with lots of S-shaped hooks was attached to the roof, and cracked dirty white paint peeled from the walls.

  ‘Why am I naked?’ Her voice sounded fragile.

  ‘You had a fever, Princess. We had to cool you down.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘It’s time for your injection now, Molly.’

  ‘Injection? Am I sick?’

  ‘Remember, I said you were?’

  Andrew pushed a needle into the bottle, withdrew the clear liquid into a syringe, and injected it into her upper arm again.

  ‘Will I be better soon, Andrew?’

  ‘Soon, Princess.’

  ‘It’s my turn now.’

>   A man she didn’t recognise was standing by her feet. She thought he looked terribly angry.

  ‘Who’s that, Andrew?’

  ‘That’s Ruben, he’s a Doctor.’

  Her eyelids felt like anvils. ‘Is he here to make me better, Andrew?’

  ‘Yes he is, Princess, and if anyone can make you feel better, Ruben can.’

  She heard laughter as she spiralled into the blackness.

  ***

  It was dark. A sliver of light slithered through the open door. She heard men’s voices, but had no idea what they were saying. Where was she? Why couldn’t she move? She was desperate to pee. Her breasts felt bruised, and she was terribly sore down below. What was happening to her? Where was Andrew? The last thing she remembered was being in the Mexican restaurant, or was it? Vague memories stalked her consciousness – injections in her arm, a Doctor, Andrew. Was she ill? She felt as though she had been on a dark journey. Had she come through her ordeal?

  The door opened and the lights came on.

  ‘Andrew, what’s happening?’

  ‘Stop telling her she’s ill, Gabriel,’ Malachi said. ‘One more time each, and then we’ll kill the bitch.’

  ‘What does he mean, Andrew?’

  ‘My name’s Gabriel, Princess… Gabriel Myers, not Andrew Harvey. Do you remember the case you were working on, the families that have been killed?’

  Her head felt disconnected from her body. ‘Case? Families? I don’t…’

  ‘Why the fuck are you talking to her, Gabriel? You know her memory is fried. Let’s just fuck her one more time, chop her up, and get rid of her.’

  Gabriel Myers, who Molly knew as Andrew Harvey, drew the last of the clear liquid from the bottle into a syringe, injected it into her arm and said, ‘Goodbye, Princess.’

  Goodbye! Why was he saying goodbye? Where was she? She was tired, so tired. Had she been ill? Who was Gabriel?’ How many days had she been here? She felt Andrew’s rough hands on her breasts – the pain was exquisite. He entered her, and she thought she might die right there and then it felt so good.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  The metal gate in the corrugated fence was open, and he let himself into the compound. There was a forest of trees and shrubbery between the fence and the building, which he crept through trying to keep out of sight of the broken windows. The gun was in his right hand with the safety off. There might be more than four men in the building, and they might be armed. The brick abattoir was two storeys high with large arched windows, a flat roof, and a giant stack chimney. The loading bay was a one-storey abutment, and he noticed that the concertina door had been left open – the gap large enough for a man to squeeze through.

  On the other side of the door were concrete channels through which livestock were herded to their deaths. From the whitewashed ceiling hung water hoses, electric prods, and armoured electric cords to which knives, saws, and boners were attached.

  Straining to listen for any noise, he crept towards the door into the main building. When he peered through there was a long corridor with doors leading off it. He couldn’t see or hear any evidence that there was anyone in the abattoir, but he hugged the left side of the corridor all the same. If Athena said Pike was in here then there was no reason to disbelieve her.

  Was he going to kill Pike and anyone else that had been involved in killing his family? He’d had a clear plan before he met Kiri, but now he didn’t know what he had. It had been easy – kill Pike then kill himself. Now, if he weren’t going to kill himself, he’d need to live with the consequences. He wasn’t a killer, but Sarah, Mathew and Tilly deserved justice, and that was why he was here. As he edged up the corridor, his resolve returned.

  He opened the first door he came to. It was dark inside and he had to get the torch out of the rucksack. Once he had the light shining into the room, he saw that it was tiled halfway up each wall with white tiles, but otherwise it was empty. He moved on up the corridor to a door on the opposite side. He darted across and opened the door. It was full of rusting metal tables, chairs, cupboards, filing cabinets, and other office-type furniture. The next door on the left appeared to be a storage room with floor to ceiling aluminium shelving on three sides.

  As two men came out of the next door on the opposite side deep in conversation and headed away from him up the corridor, he ducked into the room and pushed the door nearly closed. After a while, he stuck his head out to check the coast was clear and when he saw the corridor was empty, he carried on to the door they’d come out of.

  There had been no chance to see who the two men were, but now he knew there were at least two people in the abattoir.

  It was dark inside the room that the men had come out of. He switched the torch on and swivelled it about. There was a pulley system snaking around the room with lethal looking S-shaped meat hooks suspended from the ceiling. A line of thick wooden tables stretched the length of the room.

  Hearing a strange guttural noise, he switched the torch off and froze. The noise came again from inside the room, and it reminded him of a wounded animal.

  He switched the light on again and tried to locate the source of the noise. Then he saw a naked body on one of the wooden tables and moved towards it.

  God, what were the bastards doing? The body was a female, and there were straps at her wrists and ankles. From what he could see, she had been raped repeatedly and the marks on her body were evidence of terrible physical abuse.

  The woman moaned.

  He shone the light on her face. The woman looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place her.

  Then she spoke in a whisper. ‘Is that you, Andrew?’

  ‘Molly?’ He looked closer at her face, and a wave of anger engulfed him. ‘Oh my God, Molly, what have they done to you?’

  He put the gun down on the table in the gap between Molly’s arm and her body, and gently touched her face. ‘It’s Cole Randall, Molly.’

  ‘Do I know you?’

  ‘Molly, it’s me, Cole.’

  ‘Cole?’

  ‘Come back to me, Molly.’ He unbuckled the leather strap at her right wrist.

  ‘Cole… Randall… Yes, a long time ago…’

  ‘No, now Molly. You’re a Detective Inspector, try to remember,’ he urged her.

  ‘Randall…? Detective…? Inspector…?’

  As he reached over to untie the strap on Molly’s left wrist he heard a whooshing sound, and just before the wood hit him on the side of the head and a familiar blackness enveloped him, he realised he’d probably made a fatal mistake.

  ***

  ‘I told you we should have killed him when we did the rest of his family,’ Gabriel said kicking Randall to make sure he was unconscious.

  Malachi threw the wood on the floor and it made a deafening noise as it bounced on the quarry tiles. ‘Well, we didn’t, so shut the fuck up. Switch the light on, Ruben.’

  The lights flickered on. ‘I wish you two would stop arguing,’ Ruben said from the door.

  Molly opened her eyes. Her thoughts were disjointed. Didn’t she just see Randall? He hadn’t met her at the flat when he said he would, the fucking bastard. Where was she? What was going on? Where were her clothes? Oh God!

  Memories came flooding back, memories of being raped time after time, of men laughing at her, hurting her. She tried to move her hands, and the right one came free of the leather strap. As it did, she nudged the gun Randall had left on the table. She picked it up and stared at it.

  ‘The bitch is awake,’ Malachi said. ‘Fucking kill her, Gabriel, and let’s end it. I’ll see to Randall.’

  ‘Molly,’ Gabriel said putting up his hands, palms open and empty in the universal manner of surrender. ‘It’s Andrew, remember?’

  ‘Andrew?’

  ‘Yes, we’re lovers.’

  ‘You’re Gabriel… You said your name was Gabriel?’

  ‘No, I’m Andrew.’

  Ruben came up and stood behind Gabriel. ‘Are you going to talk her to death?’ />
  ‘She’s got a gun.’

  ‘Must I do everything myself?’ Malachi said.

  Molly’s memories began to return. ‘Yes, I remember you, Andrew.’ She pulled the trigger. The recoil nearly shattered the bones in her wrist, but she held on tight to the gun. Gabriel collapsed, the bullet had smashed his trachea, spiralled through his thoracic cavity, and exited between the third and forth lumbar vertebrae. Ruben froze, then he lunged at her. She pulled the trigger again. The bullet entered his left eye, turned his brain to soup, and removed the back of his skull. Malachi dived behind another table and crept towards the door. She pulled the trigger one more time, but missed him as he crawled through the door.

  Racked with pain, she put the gun down on her stomach while she undid the strap around her left wrist. Then she reached down and worked the straps loose from her ankles. She grasped the gun again as if it was her only hold on reality.

  Feeling light-headed, she took deep breaths as she shifted her legs over the edge of the table. Twisting onto her stomach, she managed to crumple in heap to the freezing quarry tiles next to Randall.

  She prodded him with the gun. ‘Randall you bastard, wake up. You’re meant to be here to save me.’

  Randall stirred, but Molly drifted into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  His head felt as though it had been crushed in a hydraulic press. When he tried to open his eyes, a stabbing pain shot across his skull from left to right. He reached up to the lump on the side of his head, and felt the blood oozing from a deep gash. There was a dead weight pinning his legs down, and he had to push it off before he could turn and sit up. When he did, he saw that the weight was Molly.

  ‘Jesus,’ he said out loud as he put his hand into a mess of blood and brains to reach under Molly’s shoulders and cradle her in his arms. ‘God, Molly, what have they done to you?’ Her naked body was filthy and bruised, and her legs were covered in semen. When he saw Jacob and Gabriel he said softly, ‘At least you killed the bastards, Molly.’