Plugging in the electric saw, he brought it round but the flex was too short to reach me. Tossing it to the floor in anger, he slammed out of the door. I was shivering. I’d like to have thought it because of the cold blowing around my naked thighs but knew cravenly that I’d got to admit to myself – I was bloody terrified. But this situation had to reach the final stage. I couldn’t afford to fail now.
Jake returned with an extension cable. Attaching the plug for the saw, he gave it an experimental firing up. The high-pitched sound hit the walls and reverberated. Jake switched it off and the silence was stark.
‘You can stand pain, can’t you, you’re a jockey – used to it. Think you can stand this?’
He waved the blade around in front of me. It was a fearsome thing with deep serrated teeth. I thought it was probably the saw Elspeth had instructed the gardener to use to cut up logs for the wood burner. I also thought it about time I acted.
‘So, you going to tell me or do I use this?’
‘No.’
He pounced on the word. ‘That says you do know …’ He laughed viciously. ‘I knew you fucking did …’
And switched on the electric saw. The very size of it was respect-making when it wasn’t on, but in full action … The noise it made within the confined space of the tack room was deafening. The thought that it would probably hide the sound of my own screams occurred to me only a split second before I found out.
He drew the high-pitched howling blades sideways across both my kneecaps. The teeth shredded the skin like tissue paper, cut through the underlying flesh and gronched into both patellas, the blades stuttering and juddering as they met real solid bone opposition.
The pain was purely out of hell itself. I screamed out loud, jerking in agony, but the leather leading rein held me down and the noose around my throat threatened to choke me.
Jake put the saw down and slid forward the tray he’d brought in.
I screwed my eyes up and endured the sharp agony now screaming silently through my entire nervous system. Now, I’d tell him now, when he asked.
But he didn’t ask.
Instead, he emptied the plastic bag of white stuff into the tray and slid it along the floor until it was just in front of the chair. Judging the length of the rope, he kicked the chair away from under me.
I fell forward on to my lacerated knees, and discovered the depths of depravity his mind could conceive. The pain was acid sharp, ongoing and ghastly.
The bastard had filled the tray with salt.
THIRTY-FIVE
Salt! Burning like fire, filling the open bleeding wounds in my knees. Hurting like hell itself. A monster, Annabel had called him. What I was calling him couldn’t be voiced. All energy was needed now to hold myself together.
I writhed in agony, almost strangling myself.
He thrust his face within inches of mine. ‘Where is she?’
It was time to tell him. If I’d caved in earlier I doubt he would have fallen for it. But in the state I was in now, and it wasn’t in any way put on, he would think he’d won.
Gasping for breath, I forced the words out with an effort that was for real.
‘Barbara … she knows. I don’t.’
‘That trainer … where we went that night …?’
‘Hmm.’
‘She there, then? Your bird’s at this Barbara’s?’
‘N … o …’
‘But she knows where your bird is, that right?’
‘Hmm.’
‘You don’t know where?’
‘Get Barbara … to … take you … to the place … where Lizzie’s father … used to work.’
‘And your bird’s at this Lizzie’s dad’s old works?’
‘Yes.’
‘How come you don’t know, eh?’
‘Case … you got … me.’
He laughed. ‘Yeah, I can take that. You’re dead scared of me, ain’t you, Radcliffe?’
‘Hmm.’ I agreed. And prayed he’d believe me. If he did, he was going to go for it.
‘Right. I’m off to get her. And when I do, Radcliffe, I’m gonna bring her back here for a seeing to. She’s first, and you can watch.’ He laughed mirthlessly. ‘Then it’ll be your turn. Don’t throttle yourself before I get back.’
He went out of the tack-room door, still sniggering at his own sick joke.
The pain didn’t diminish, and I was still hog-tied, but I felt better. The pervasive evil atmosphere that surrounded Jake had left with him.
I bit the inside of my cheek to offset the pain raging in my knees and considered what I could do, if anything. There had to be something. I looked at the positives of my situation. Number one, which he seemed to have overlooked in his perverse pursuing of the whereabouts of Annabel, was the fact my hands were free.
I tentatively tried the heavy clip fastened in the front of the noose around my neck. If Jake had managed to press it far enough into my flesh to engage and fasten then I should be able to reverse the procedure. My first attempt only achieved a gagging for breath. Frightening on its own, with the noose supported from the hooks waiting to tighten each time, there was an infinitesimal easing of pressure that could strangle me so easily it was off-putting to try again.
Fighting down the thought of a slow death by my own efforts to escape, I turned my attention to my legs. The wounds had bled quite a lot. I wasn’t concerned about infection from the dirty, oily tray. There was enough salt in there to cure a cow and certainly enough to defeat an army of germs.
However, what I did see was where the blood had pooled beneath my kneecaps, the salt had started melting. I knelt there, the pain a constant, and considered how I could use the knowledge for my benefit.
To the right-hand side of me, only a couple of feet away, was the saw where Jake had tossed it on to the floor. And attached to its plug was the extension cable snaking back to the far end where it was plugged into the socket on the wall. It was still switched on.
If my knees bled some more then it would certainly melt the salt, deepening the level inside the tray. But how long would it take for enough blood to leave my body to do that? Far too long. I was mindful of the horrendous possibility that Jake might smell a rat and return. My chances then would be zero.
What was needed was more liquid to add to the blood.
What could I use to do the job? Of course, it was obvious.
It helped that I now had no trousers on. I adjusted the leg of my boxers and relieved myself into the tray. The hot urine mingled instantly with the salt and the blood and turned the tray into a floating asset.
Very cautiously, I lifted my left knee a fraction and pressed down with my right. It was tricky; every movement, even the smallest, tended to put strain on both the leading rein holding me down towards the floor and also the noose rising up to the large vicious hooks above my head. The crafty bastard had known there was no way I could get loose by myself. But I was determined not to let him get away with it. I would have to risk one or other of my tethers.
I put up my left hand and dug my index finger inside the noose, holding it down and, at the same time, lifting the pressure again from my left kneecap. Then, using my right hand, I brought the heel of my hand down sharply on the edge of the tray. With the amount of liquid now swilling about unsteadily instead of dry material, the tray tipped up.
The salty liquid sloshed out, spread across the concrete floor and flooded the junction where the saw plug was connected to the extension cable.
The result was gratifying. There was a textbook flash and a bang and, over in the main house, I heard the alarm system go off, loudly and persistently. I knew Elspeth’s system was connected to the local constabulary. It was a very sweet moment to know that England’s finest would soon be hot-rubbering over to find out the cause.
The thought that my rescuers could be here in a few minutes and I would be released from the hateful bonds brought an enormous relief. I knew even now, one slip either way and the noose would do the business. A st
aying absolutely still job was required and, if the pain in my kneecaps was bad, which it certainly was, and made worse by having to remain kneeling and putting my full weight on my knees, I would carry on bearing it until help arrived.
If Jake didn’t return first.
He would be at Barbara’s by now. I had a qualm that I’d put her in a dangerous situation. But she was a plucky, capable woman. She would know, if he passed the message on word for word, and I thought it very likely, exactly where I was holed up. And if she passed on the message to Mike, I could expect reinforcements to arrive from that direction too. A beautiful belt-and-braces job. How she would actually handle Jake was the big question mark. But forewarned and all that, as she’d said, she could recruit a lot of available muscle from her staff if she needed it.
And the great thing overall was that Annabel was safely down in London with Sir Jeffrey looking after her.
To take my attention away from the pain, I kept my thoughts entirely focussed on her, remembering all the exquisite, beautiful times we had shared. It worked – to a certain extent – but the following twenty minutes were some of the longest of my life.
And then I heard it: the most wonderful sound I could have wished for. Barrelling along, with the blues and twos belting it out, the police cars charged up the drive and swept into the stable yard.
THIRTY-SIX
Laughing out loud at the memory, Barbara leaned her forearm on the cage that was taking the weight of bedclothes off my bandaged knees. Despite being in a hospital bed, I, too, found myself smiling – the painkillers were doing a magnificent job.
Happily, my X-rays had shown no deep damage to either patella, the teeth of the saw having bounced off rather than grinding into the bone. I’d been grounded while the soft tissue healed but there was no lasting damage – a massive relief. When I told Mike and Barbara the good news it had relieved their tension and they were now in high spirits.
Still laughing, Barbara recounted what had happened at her stables when Jake arrived.
‘But he did have the knife,’ Mike said. ‘Weren’t you scared even a little bit?’
‘What I was scared of,’ she replied, ‘was if he hurt one of the dear dogs.’
I caught Mike’s eye and we both smirked. Dear dogs – dear heavens – they were guard dogs of the first rank.
‘So what happened?’ I prompted.
‘Well, he repeated what you’d told him. I knew straight away that you were being held at Unicorn Stables. Then he demanded I take him there, laughable really, seeing he’d just come straight from the stables. Well, of course, I needed to let Mike know. I asked to use the toilet first, was going to ring him. But Jake wasn’t playing ball. So I whistled up the dogs. That’s when he produced a knife and waved it about. But Maxi, the German shepherd, saw that as a threat to me, leapt up, grabbed Jake’s wrist and knocked him flat. Jake dropped the knife and I snatched it.’ She laughed again. ‘The dogs penned Jake in the corner; they wouldn’t let him get up. They stood on guard in front of him, growling and showing their teeth. He was scared pants-less.’
We were all laughing now at the picture she’d painted.
‘After that, I just called in three of the lads to guard him while I went to fetch Mike and help you. I’ll never forget the look on Jake’s face when the three lads walked into the lounge, shoulder to shoulder and each holding out a pitchfork.’
She’d then, apparently, telephoned the police, who had already been alerted by the alarm system going off at Elspeth’s stables.
‘And where is Jake now?’ I asked.
‘In police custody.’
‘Thank God for that,’ Mike said. And I heartily agreed with him.
A nurse was walking purposefully down the ward with the blood pressure equipment trolley.
‘We’ll push off now, let you get some rest and recover,’ Mike said.
Barbara nodded. ‘I brought your car back, by the way. It’s at the cottage when you want it.’
‘Thanks, both of you. You’re the best.’
‘Aw, shucks.’ She rolled her eyes.
‘Don’t forget, you’re a vested interest, Harry,’ Mike said.
The nurse had almost reached my bed and they stood up to leave.
Mike hesitated, then bent over the bed. ‘Not long to March. Just over a couple of months to the Cheltenham Festival, Harry. Reckon you’ll be fit to race?’ There was a trace of anxiety in his voice.
Barbara shook her head sadly at his naivety.
I glanced across, caught her eye and we shared a complicit, knowing grin.
‘Well?’ Mike demanded, frowning at us. ‘What do you think? Will you be riding?’
‘Do horses have hooves?’ I said.
Dead Reckoning Page 25