Foul Justice

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Foul Justice Page 12

by MA Comley


  But he was alive. If they’d wanted to kill him, they would’ve succeeded by now. He looked down and gingerly touched his chest. Touching the whip lashings made him flinch. Instead of whipping his back, the men—three of them—took turns whipping his chest while he had been tied to a post. They had driven him, blindfolded, to a nearby town to mete out his punishment. He suspected his public beating had the intention of keeping the locals in line, more than anything. It was how the Taliban ruled, through fear.

  Several other people, men and women, had been punished or tortured that day. A thief had his hands severed at the wrists. A woman, not more than twenty, who Tony presumed had been accused of adultery, had been stripped and raped by half a dozen bearded men before they had stoned her to death. The town’s inhabitants had been gathered and forced to watch, with armed guards milling around behind them. Those who hid their eyes were beaten black and blue with the butts of AK-47s.

  Tony had come off light so far, compared to the others; he realised that. He had no idea what the future held for him and constantly prayed for Headquarters to send reinforcements, but he feared they wouldn’t, especially after already losing Simon on the mission. The thing that kept him sane was the thought of his beautiful Lorne and their forthcoming wedding. The image of her wonderful smile and the way her eyes shone when she looked at him was the one thing that kept him from giving up.

  A smile spread his cracked lips as he thought of Lorne and Charlie spending time together at the ice-skating rink. Boy, he wished he was there with them now, enjoying life instead of fearing that it would come to an abrupt end at any moment.

  He hadn’t heard the men approach until the key clunked against the lock and the door opened. Tony pretended to be asleep. He was too weak to attempt an attack; he would bide his time. He felt a foot kick his own and heard words being spat at him in a native tongue that he’d yet to master.

  Groaning, he pretended to stretch and looked up at the two men in front of him. He gulped noisily when he saw that one of the men was brandishing a large machete. The man’s toothless grin broadened when he saw the fear leap into and settle in Tony’s eyes.

  • • •

  By the time they reached home, both of them were exhausted. Lorne turned to Katy. “Why don’t you stay the night, and then travel up first thing?”

  Katy pondered for a while and then nodded. “Makes sense. It’s a good three-hour drive from here, and I’m knackered.”

  “Good. That’s settled. I’m sure Charlie would love to meet you anyway.” She glanced at her watch. Six thirty. “Tom usually drops her off at around seven. Any preference for dinner?”

  Katy faced her and frowned. “I’m not fussed. Whatever suits you.”

  “Well, Friday night is take-away night.”

  “Really? You eat a lot of take-aways, don’t you?”

  Lorne cringed. “As a matter of fact, I never used to. I was always having a go at Pete for not eating healthily. I feel a bit of a hypocrite now. It’s a time issue. When I was married to Tom, he cooked all the meals during the week, and I took over at the weekend. I’m finding it a struggle to get into a routine, especially with what’s happening at the moment—you know, with Tony.”

  “Lorne, you don’t have to make excuses or justify anything to me. I completely understand. Does Charlie like Indian?”

  “Does she ever! Actually, it’s her favourite, providing it’s not too hot. She generally has a chicken tikka. Talking of which, Tony took me to this Indian restaurant once in Oxford, near the river, and the chicken tikka was to die for. All the way through, I sounded like Sally in When Harry met Sally—you know the scene I mean. God, it was gorgeous. I must look up the name of the place again. Maybe Tony and I will take a trip out there again when he comes home…”

  Katy stroked her arm to comfort her. “Be brave, Lorne. I’m sure he’ll return home soon.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. I’m glad I have you for company right now. Have you had any thoughts on your own situation?”

  Katy’s cheeks blushed a light pink. “Not really.”

  Lorne smiled and gently nudged her in the ribs. “You and AJ seemed to be getting on well today.”

  Katy’s cheeks turned from pink to beetroot in no time at all. “He seems nice enough.”

  “Just a word of warning: you know how the force looks on relationships starting up between officers. If anything were to happen between you, I’d hate to lose one of you. Enough said on the subject.”

  Katy tutted. “We spent the morning together on a case, that’s all.”

  Lorne’s eyebrows rose at the way Katy bit back. “I’m just saying.” She put her hand on her chest and continued, “If it were up to me, I would say go for it but keep your distance at work. You’re less likely to raise suspicions with the other members of the team.”

  Katy looked shocked. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? That you wouldn’t mind if we started something?”

  “Hey, look at it this way.” She held her hands out in front of her, palms upwards. “Hmm…‌Darren or AJ?” She lifted one hand, then the other. “It’s a no-brainer, in my book.”

  “You’re incorrigible. But AJ is kind of cute—a ladies’ man, granted—but ever so cute,” Katy admitted, picking up the menu Lorne had dug out of the kitchen drawer.

  A satisfied grin settled on Lorne’s face as she prepared Henry’s evening meal of biscuits and tinned beef.

  “As soon as you’ve decided what you’re having.” Lorne laughed before clarifying, “Take-away-wise, I mean. We’ll ring through the order before they get busy.”

  Katy ran her finger down the list and back up again until she finally picked out the lamb bhuna.

  Lorne rang the restaurant and placed the order, adding her own dish of chicken korma to Charlie and Katy’s orders. Not long after, the doorbell rang, and her weekend began.

  After the meal, while Katy packed her bag, Lorne stretched out on the sofa with Charlie tucked up in front of her.

  “Mum, I’m stuffed now…”

  Lorne knew her daughter well enough when something was puzzling her. “What’s up, love?” She swept her daughter’s mousey brown hair back from covering her eyes.

  “Dad told me about Tony. He’ll be back for the wedding, won’t he?”

  At first she was annoyed that Tom had told their daughter, but before doing him an injustice, she asked, “What did Dad tell you?”

  “Only that he’d been called away. Dad wasn’t sure if he’d be back for the wedding or not.” Charlie turned to face her. “What’s going on, Mum? We’ve been through so much together. I know when something isn’t right.”

  Lorne tapped her daughter on the nose, then squeezed her tight. “You’re a perceptive munchkin. He’s on a mission. Hopefully, he’ll be back soon.”

  “But he’s been on missions before, Mum, and you haven’t had those worry lines that I’m seeing now.”

  “I know, sweetie. Put it down to a tough week at work, Tony being away, plus all the preparations I’m having to do for the wedding.”

  Again Lorne found herself surprised by Charlie’s perceptiveness when she persisted. “But you’ve got a wedding planner to organise that for you, haven’t you?”

  Lorne sighed and smiled at her. “When did God make you so smart, young lady?”

  Charlie chuckled. “He probably gave me your brain genes instead of Dad’s.”

  There was no doubting that, as Tom had shown over the years that he wasn’t and never would be the sharpest knife in the drawer.

  “Going back to the wedding, we need to sort out a dress for you. We should’ve done it a while ago, but I needed to get the renovations finished before I went back to the force.”

  “Aww…‌I was hoping you had forgotten about that. Do I have to wear a dress? Couldn’t I wear a nice trouser suit or something?” Charlie whined with a pleading look.

  Trying to avoid a teenage strop that could ruin their weekend, Lorne told her daughter, “We’ll see.
What about a compromise? We’ll go to the bridal shop. You try on a couple of dresses. If none of them take your fancy, we move on and look for a trouser suit for you.”

  “I guess, that’ll be all right. Does the dress have to be a pale colour?”

  “Not necessarily. What about a red one? You could wear it to parties in the future.”

  Charlie screwed her nose up. “I wouldn’t be seen dead in a dress at a party.”

  Lorne laughed as she remembered the tussle she’d had in her teens with her own mother, when she had tried to force Lorne into a party dress for the first time for her cousin’s eighteenth birthday. It had been raining, and she and her parents had decided to walk to the party, which was being held a few streets away. Her mother had bought her some strappy sandals with two and a half-inch heels that matched her pink blancmange dress. In a mood from having her hair curled and pinned up in an elegant bun, Lorne hatched a plan to spoil her dress and shoes in one go. Seeing a large crack in the pavement she intentionally wedged her heel in it, and when she tried to walk on pretended to lose her balance and ended up in a muddy pool of water in the gutter.

  Aghast, her parents had whisked her home to change. In the end, she attended the party in the outfit she had wanted to wear initially, much to her parents’ disappointment. She had no intention of making Charlie go through the same ordeal. After her daughter’s excruciating experience with Baldwin, her discipline had become more lax. Charlie was more of an adult than a normal girl her age, something Lorne still felt guilty about.

  “Mum…‌Earth to Mum.”

  Coming out of her reverie, she kissed her daughter on the forehead. “We’ll see what happens at the bridal shop. Deal?”

  Reluctantly her daughter agreed, and they settled down to the latest rom-com video starring Cameron Diaz.

  • • •

  The following day, after waving Katy off, Lorne and Charlie headed to Sam’s house. Lorne looked in the rearview mirror and watched Henry sitting in the back seat. One minute, he was sitting erect panting excitedly; the next, when the car turned into Greenacre Road, his head dropped. He knew exactly where he was going and what it meant. Her heart went out to him as another bout of guilt swept through her. After working all week and leaving him in the house alone, she owed it to him to be there at the weekend, but she also owed it to Charlie to spend time with her, too. It was a no-win situation.

  “It’s only for the day, boy. You’ll have fun with Grandpa.”

  Charlie turned in her seat and patted Henry on the head. “I’ll take you for a long walk tomorrow, boy, and a run in the park. How’s that?”

  His ears pricked up at the ‘W’ word, and he barked in response, which eased Lorne’s guilt slightly.

  A couple of hours later, they had reached the rink and were busy fastening up their skates.

  “You look petrified, Mum.” Charlie laughed and stood up on the rubber matting that led onto the rink entrance.

  “No, I’ll be fine. Apprehensive but not petrified.”

  Tentatively they stepped onto the ice. Lorne almost immediately fell on her backside, much to her daughter’s delight. Determined, she got to her feet, took a few seconds to steady herself and ran the skates back and forward, getting the feel of them. Sucking in a breath, she watched as Charlie, skating like a junior pro, came around to join her.

  “Come on, Mum. Get a move on. Our time will run out soon.”

  “Oy, you cheeky mare.” Leading with her right foot, she pushed away from the side. At first, her legs felt like they belonged to someone else, but then the rhythm began to feel like second nature to her. Within fifteen minutes and after a few falls, she was skating like she had in her teens, with confidence and elegance.

  “Wow, Mum. Look at you go.” Charlie came up behind her, and they skated together side by side, holding hands.

  After their jaunt on the ice, they headed upstairs to the café and ordered toasted buttered teacakes and mugs of hot chocolate before setting off for the bridal shop in the heart of the city.

  Charlie tried on a couple of dresses, as promised, but even Lorne had to admit they didn’t suit her child one bit. Lorne searched the rails and spotted a mid-blue linen two-piece suit that she thought would go well with her daughter’s colouring. She took it into the changing room where Charlie was just slipping out of the final dress she’d tried on.

  “What do you think of this?”

  Her daughter poked her head out of the cubicle, and her eyes widened in delight. “That’s stunning. Can I try it on?”

  “Of course. I think it’s beautiful. It’ll match some of the flowers I’ve ordered, too.”

  “I’ll be two minutes,” Charlie called out excitedly.

  A confident Charlie stepped out of the cubicle a few minutes later. Proud tears sprang to Lorne’s eyes. The suit was a perfect fit and enhanced her daughter’s burgeoning beauty.

  “Oh, darling. It’s beautiful…‌You’re beautiful.”

  The shop’s owner, a little Italian lady in her early-forties, appeared and uttered one word. “Bellissima.”

  “Sold,” Lorne said, smiling at the woman.

  It wasn’t until Lorne passed over her credit card that she realised how expensive the suit was. Still, she knew Charlie would get years of use out of it. In the end, £250 was a snip. She just hoped Tony would agree.

  Arm in arm, they left the bridal shop. Lorne had another surprise up her sleeve for her teenage daughter as they headed for one of London’s newest landmarks.

  “You’re kidding me?” Charlie shouted joyfully as they walked towards The Eye, one of London’s newest and most popular tourist attractions. Lorne had been promising the trip for the past couple of years, but something had always cropped up, pushing the trip back.

  “Come on; hop on.” The trip was well worth the exorbitant price as they surveyed the London skyline that was just starting to light up against the backdrop of the dusky sky. Lorne pointed out the other landmarks, most of which Charlie knew, but some she hadn’t heard of before.

  “This is the best day ever, Mum. It’s a shame Tony isn’t here with us.”

  Lorne swallowed down the lump that suddenly appeared in her throat and threw her arm around Charlie’s shoulders. “I know, love. There’ll be other trips when he can join us,” she said, more to reassure herself rather than Charlie.

  They ate at an expensive restaurant that evening, and when they got home, they both stumbled into bed.

  The next morning, Lorne woke up invigorated after having one of the best night’s sleep she’d had since the news broke about Tony. Breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs on toast with streaky bacon on the side, one of Charlie’s personal favourites. A couple of games of Scrabble filled their morning before Lorne headed into the kitchen to prepare lunch.

  The doorbell rang at twelve thirty. Charlie jumped up. “I’ll get it!”

  “Put the chain on before you answer—” Lorne knew her words had fallen on deaf ears when Henry bounded into the kitchen before she’d had time to finish her sentence.

  Lorne crouched down and hugged him. He moaned and licked her face, letting her know he was pleased to see her. “I missed you, sweetie. Guess who’s going to get spoilt today?”

  “He’s spoilt every day of the week,” her father said from the doorway.

  “Yeah, and I bet you spoilt him rotten yesterday too, old man.”

  Acting as though he’d been caught out, he mumbled indignantly, “I did not.”

  Charlie joined them and wrapped her arms around her grandfather’s waist. “Yeah, Mum’s right. You always spoil him. I’ve seen your stash of doggie treats in the cupboard under the stairs.”

  Her father cringed, and Lorne laughed. “Oh, is that right? You hypocrite!”

  “Telltale.” Sam Collins smiled adoringly at his granddaughter. “Oh, and you know that stash of sweets I have in my kitchen cupboard for when you visit? They’re going in the bin the minute I get home.”

  “I don’t believe yo
u. You wouldn’t do that to your favourite grandchild,” Charlie challenged.

  Shrugging and grinning broadly, he told her, “We’ll see how nice you are to me today. You’ve got a lot of making up to do, miss.”

  Charlie and Lorne exchanged knowing glances as they prepared the table for lunch. After they had devoured the roast pork dinner and a syrup sponge pudding and custard, everyone collapsed in their chairs, patting their full stomachs. Lorne made a mental note to buy some salad the next time she went shopping to help shed some of the calories she had put on that week. The last thing she wanted to do when Tony got home was look like Porky Pig.

  By seven that evening, the house was quiet, and Lorne was relaxing on the sofa with Henry, her cheeks aching from smiling and laughing too much during the day. She was just summoning up the effort to get out of the chair and go to bed when the phone rang. She retrieved it from the side table beside her and answered it. “Hello?”

  “Lorne, it’s Patti.”

  Lorne could tell by the tone of the pathologist’s voice that she had bad news. “Hi, Patti. Go on, hit me with it.”

  “Are you sitting down?”

  “I am.”

  “I’ve just had a quick communication with Dave. It lasted seconds—that’s all, Lorne, so don’t go getting worked up about what I’m going to tell you, okay?”

  Lorne ran a hand through her hair and prepared herself for bad news. “Go on.”

  “Dave told me they’re aware of where Tony is—”

  “My God, is he all right? I’m sorry, please continue, Patti.”

  She heard Patti expel a breath before she went on, “They’re monitoring the situation, Lorne. Apparently, he’s in a cave being guarded by a large group of men. That’s all Dave said before the line went dead.”

  “Oh, Patti, I’m so grateful to you both. It’s the not knowing anything that’s eating me up. I know you probably can’t answer this, but do you suspect they’ll try a rescue attempt?”

 

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