by Max Hardy
‘Good girl.’ Strange answered looking up from her as Corporal Garry entered the MIU and slumped down in a chair next to Saxon.
‘No joy Sir. Mrs Seymour laid it on the line, admitted into the camera that she had killed Michael and that she was Madame Evangeline and not a fucking peep.’ Garry relayed tersely.
‘It was a long shot Gaz. Even if she is Madame Evangeline, we have no evidence to prove it. I think our ‘Unknown Caller’ wants us to present that evidence. More particularly, I think he wants John to present it.’
‘I understand that Sir, but we are running out of time and there seems to be no evidence forthcoming and Saul is nowhere to be seen. That could literally leave us in a fucking huge hole come midnight. At some point we should think about trying to manually disarm that frigging thing.’ he stated with obvious irritation.
‘Gaz, I appreciate that you are a man of action and want to do something, but the risk of going anywhere near that thing is too great. You said that yourself. We do have Steven, your guys and the Tech team doing the decryption and we do have a good lead in Dr Ennis, who may be our ‘Unknown Caller’. Be patient and focus on seeing if there is another way to disarm it without going anywhere near it.’ Strange answered considerately but firmly.
The conference phone on the table in front of them rang, Strange punching the answer button immediately as he saw the number on the display.
‘Mick, give me some good news.’ Strange said in anticipation.
‘We haven’t found Ennis Sir, but he’s involved in this, the sick bastard is definitely involved.’
‘What have you found?’ asked Strange, leaning into the phone, as did Saxon and Garry, listening intently.
‘He’s got a BSDM Dungeon in his basement. Chains, manacles, whips, bondage wheels, the lot. Puts him directly into the scene that Rebecca Angus was involved in.’
Strange shook his head, slightly agitated. ‘Yes Mick, but that’s not evidence, that’s just coincidence.’
‘No Sir, the evidence we found in his loft. There was a locked cabinet up there, which we have broken into. Inside are rows and rows of jars. In each jar, in formaldehyde, are either parts of or whole hearts. On the front of each jar are two punched dymo labels, one a name and one a date. There are twenty three jars in the cabinet Sir, twenty fucking three.’
‘What are you saying Mick.’ asked Strange, concerned.
‘They are his trophies Sir. Twenty three victims, twenty three trophies and on the twentieth jar, the name ‘Michael Angus’, the date ‘01/01/2012’.
9:45 pm
‘She called it ‘Her Temptation’. I put a hand forward as she stood in front of me, tracing one of my fingers down from the fork of the tattooed tongue, all the way down to the skin covering her pulsing button. She laughed and took a step back. ‘Patience, my darling.’ she teased, turning to her left just as two men coming from the field passed on her right, one staring straight at me with a lewd, penetrating glare. It was Dr Ennis, his gaze staying on me as he and the other gentleman passed by. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now I wonder if he also saw Evangeline?’
Saul rewound the video again, staring at the screen incredulously, letting the same clip replay again: over and over again, as he had for the last five minutes. He was absolutely absorbed in the image, taking in every detail of Rebecca’s face as she relayed her story, oblivious to anything else.
He never heard the soft soled footfalls sneaking quietly down the corridor outside. He didn’t sense the large, looming figure fill the frame of the open doorway. He only realised someone was there, dragging him back from captivation, when the person spoke.
‘It’s a pity you had to see that Saul. A pity for you. A pleasure for me.’ Dr Ennis said, brooding in the doorway, standing tall, his thumbs forced tightly into his waistcoat pocket, a crooked, cold humoured grin on his face.
‘You knew Rebecca Angus way before she was in your care. You knew she was with Madame Evangeline.’ Saul stated, fully returned from his contemplation, turning in his chair to face Dr Ennis.
‘Oh, I knew her. I knew what a tease she was. Always watching, never getting involved. She was so beautiful, so enigmatic. I watched her become a sultry, sensuous commanding Dom and I wanted her.’
‘You knew she was with Madame Evangeline.’ Saul repeated, tensing in the chair, holding onto the arms tightly.
‘I knew she was with a woman. I never saw who that woman was. She didn’t interest me. Rebecca did.’ he said matter of fact, watching every movement Saul was making.
‘But you used that. You used that to get her committed. You said that Madame Evangeline was part of her DID. She was real, she was always real! You must have known who she was!’ Saul said, his voice raised, anger entering his tone, his knuckles white, his hands shaking as he gripped the chair.
‘I couldn’t give a fuck about Madame Evangeline. All she ever became was a distraction. I wanted Rebecca. I wanted her here, where I could watch her being abused, any time I pleased.’ he leered, goading Saul.
‘You sick fuck!’ Saul shouted, launching himself from the chair, straight toward Dr Ennis. Dr Ennis was anticipating the lunge and sidestepped Saul, throwing an elbow into Saul’s back as he passed him, knocking him to the floor of the corridor outside the room. Saul spun onto his side quickly as Dr Ennis loomed over him and shot a foot out viciously towards his groin. Dr Ennis moved to one side again and Saul’s foot connected with thin air. Dr Ennis grabbed the leg and yanked Saul up, strength evident in the action, spinning him to his left and banging his torso into the corridor wall.
Saul’s head cracked into the porcelain tiles, stunning him slightly for a second, long enough for Dr Ennis to grab his other leg and flip him over onto his stomach. He knelt over Saul, forcing a knee into his back and grabbing both arms quickly. Saul shook his head, trying to shift the daze of the knock and started to writhe under the grip. Dr Ennis had his arms in a lock, up Saul’s back, and lowered an elbow onto his neck, bringing his head down close to Saul’s ear.
‘You have no idea. No idea at all just how much of a sick fuck I really am. You have no idea how much pleasure I get out of restraint, especially face down restraint.’ he hissed in a vitriolic whisper as Saul bucked below him. He pushed his elbow down further, forcing Saul’s head into the uncompromising floor, restricting his windpipe, making him gag for air.
‘What pleasures me most, is being this close, being right next to your head, hearing the sound labour in your throat, hearing your lungs start to constrict, hearing your voice rattle with the whispered wraiths of your last, pitiful breath.’ he continued as Saul’s head started to shake and his body started to convulse.
‘Seeing your eyes bulge, seeing your tongue fatten and shake in your mouth and seeing your lips turn thick and blue.’ he added, applying more pressure the Saul’s neck.
‘Feeling your body go limp beneath me and feeling the life drain out of you.’ he sneered as Saul’s body stopped shaking and went still.
‘Smelling the exquisite stench of your death.’
10:00 pm
‘You get used to it.’ said Sarah as she noticed Jessica looking anxiously at the screen on her mobile, just as she did the same on hers. They were sitting inside the Visitor Unit, just finishing off another cup of hot coffee. The evening chill was setting in and the coffee was an attempt to warm themselves up. Jessica had her coat on and Sarah was wearing Strange’s jacket, but the chill was still invading their bones. Jessica gave her a questioning gaze. Sarah pointed down at the screen on her mobile.
‘Not knowing where John is. Buggering off at the drop of a hat without thought or concern for who he is leaving. Waiting impatiently for him to drop a considerate text to let you know what the hell he is up to. Just the absolute single minded focus on the job.’ Sarah added, sympathetically. ‘He doesn’t think that you worry about him. He doesn’t think that you wonder what madmen might be out there, with a grudge, intent on stopping him make it home. It’s hard. Do y
ou think you are ready for it?’ asked Sarah, placing a hand, the one holding the taggie, on top of Jessica’s which were cupped in her knee, thumb of one circling the palm of the other.
Jessica bit her lip, nervousness seeping through her precise deportment, allying with the evening chill to make her body gently shake. She looked down at the taggie, then back up to Sarah.
‘I guess, being the other woman, I have had a lot of experience waiting for him. I used to worry that he wouldn’t come back to me mainly.’ she replied candidly. ‘I am starting to understand the hopelessness of not knowing what is going on, of not knowing what is happening to him. Am I ready? Are you ever ready? Do you ever get used to it?’ Jessica pondered, then asked the last question to Sarah.
‘No, you don’t. It’s just another thing you learn to block out. Another thing you learn to hide from each other. At least, that’s what I did. I hope it is different for you. You seem to talk, which is a big start, especially with John. Have you always found it easy to talk to him?’ Sarah asked, innocently.
Jessica frowned, looking uncomfortable at the question.
‘Sorry.’ Sarah said, quickly. ‘I’m not digging and trust me, I am not asking to be catty or nasty. It’s just, I don’t know, what you did for Jacob earlier….’ she said, leaving the sentence hanging in the air.
‘Forgive me, I am just very conscious I am the other woman. I really don’t want to rub our relationship in your face. The first time we met we were very open with each other. I think the bottle of wine helped to loosen tongues. I told him about a dark place in my life and he told me how he was feeling about Jacob.’ Jessica replied, looking down at the taggie again as she ran one of her fingers over its fabric.
‘I know John struggles with Jacob’s condition. I know he couldn’t talk to me about that so I am pleased he has found someone he can talk to.’
Jessica smiled, its curves wearing sadness. ‘We spent that evening talking about babies.’ she looked up at Sarah, squeezing the taggie as she did. ‘We talked about your baby Jacob, and about my baby. We both shared our feelings of loss.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be pry.’ Sarah said apologetically, noticing Rebecca’s lips twitch slightly as she tried to contain her emotion.
‘It’s alright. Sometimes I catch his reflection.’ she started, looking down at the taggie again. ‘In something like this bit of cloth, in another child’s eyes, staring back at me. Sometimes he smiles. Mostly he is sad. He haunts me from his lonely grave.’ She looked up and stared into Sarah’s eyes, guilt lining the sadness in her face. ‘I had an abortion.’
Sarah’s eyes widened in absolute surprise, her brow then furrowing in empathy, her own lips quivering, mirroring Jessica’s. She looked down, partly to hide the tears glistening in her eyes, partly to look at the scraggy taggie they were both holding. She raised it up between them, Jessica’s hand falling away from it.
‘I didn’t buy this for Jacob. I had an affair when I was thirteen. He was thirty. I fell pregnant and kept it from my parents for a long time. I bought this for her, for Ellie. I was nearly twenty seven weeks pregnant when they found out. They went to court and fought for me to have an abortion. They argued that my mental wellbeing was in jeopardy. They said I had been raped by a paedophile and bringing up his child would scar me for life. The courts agreed. So I had my baby. I went through labour and had my baby. They tried to take her away immediately but I didn’t let them. I fought and I screamed and for a moment, for the briefest of moments, I held her hand, and stroked her perfectly formed, angelic little body with this taggie. I catch her reflection all the time, every time I look at Jacob. She haunts me too.’ Sarah finished, a gentle trickle of tears meandering down her cheeks.
They looked knowingly into each other eyes: their hollow, sorrowful eyes. Sarah reached for Jessica’s hand and, taking one of her fingers, she slotted it through one of the tags on the edge of the taggie.
‘For our babies. For all of our babies. Thank you for trying to save my baby Jacob.’ Sarah said as she held the taggie, and Jessica’s hand, tight.
10:05 pm
A harsh, repetitive squeak emanated from a wheel on the rusty old trolley as Dr Ennis pushed it down the corridor towards the light coming from the open cell door in the distance. On the top of the trolley were a number of implements. A hammer, some nails, a long bladed kitchen knife and a pair of pliers. He was whistling to himself as he nonchalantly entered the padded cell and positioned the trolley next to the chair in the centre of the room.
Saul’s lifeless body was strapped in the chair, totally naked. All of the restraints were in place, on his head, over his chest, down his arms and around his legs. There was a subtle movement of the strap around his chest. His hands were positioned palm up and tied tightly around the wrists.
Dr Ennis continued his jovial whistling and adjusted the black gloves he was wearing. He picked up the hammer and a nail from the top of the trolley. He positioning the nail into Saul’s left palm, circling it delicately to find the right position, then with a ferocious swing of his arm, smashed it with the hammer, straight through skin and bone, whistling as he did.
Saul screamed, his whole body tensing as his eyes shot open instantly, bulging from his head, darting around frantically as they tried to comprehend what was happening. They angled down to see a pool of blood collecting around his open palm, dripping down onto the floor. They looked in front of him to the sneering, sadistic countenance of Dr Ennis glaring back at him, whistling still. Dr Ennis smirked as he picked up another nail and scraped it all the way down Saul’s right arm, drawing blood as it broke the skin before settling in his right palm.
Panic shot into Saul’s face as he screamed ‘No!’ a second before Dr Ennis slammed the hammer against the second nail, the word augmenting into a shrilling howl of agony.
‘In my world Saul, this type of pain is a precursor to pleasure. It releases endorphins into your body that try to counteract the pain. They also arouse you, sexually.’ Dr Ennis said, squatting down between Saul’s open thighs and wrapping a hand around his semi erect penis. A gloved hand. A gloved hand whose palm was covered in sharp metal pins. Dr Ennis squeezed and started rubbing it up and down Saul’s hardening shaft.
‘Get off you fucking bastard, get off.’ Saul screamed, spittle dribbling from his mouth as he tried to shake his head, forcing his body against the restraints, his face living the excruciating pain.
‘It’s you who will get off Saul and you can’t do a thing about it. Your body won’t let you. As much as you try to ignore what I am doing, your body wants it, your body is enjoying it and your body craves the pleasure. Your mind might not, but your body does.’ he said, squeezing and tugging his penis faster. Saul closed his eyes excruciatingly, shaking his head frantically with what little movement he could make, his body jittering as he tried hard to distract his mind from what was happening to him, from the overwhelming agony.
Dr Ennis laughed, tugging harder, feeling Saul’s shaft thicken and throb between his hands. ‘It’s no good Saul. No. Good. At. All.’ Dr Ennis finished slowly, speeding up his tugging. Saul’s body shuddered, his penis pulsing, his throat opening into another ear splitting scream as he ejaculated, his body jerking, then slumping in the seat as the last throb of ejaculation cease. Saul began to whimper, eyes closed, the darkness of despair painted across his sweat stained face.
‘You mother fucker.’ Saul groaned, disconsolately.
‘I think you will find that it was Michael Angus who was the mother fucker. That was a thrill too, knowing that he had Rebecca. Knowing that she had lost her virginity to her son.’ Dr Ennis sneered as he raised a finger covered in Saul’s ejaculate, and rubbed it into his lips, licking it off with a lewd tongue.
‘Did you kill Michael Angus? Did you kill him just so you could have Rebecca committed?’ Saul asked, surprise evident in his laboured tone.
Dr Ennis burst out laughing, a harsh, maniacal noise as he reached for another nail from the trolley. ‘You
should know something about me Saul. It might help you appreciate what is going to happen to you. Every New Year’s Day, since the age of twenty, I have killed someone. I have killed lots of people in between those times, but they were either accidental or, as in your case, opportune. I had set out on New Year’s Eve 2011 with the specific intention of killing someone, as I always did. I attended a Masquerade Ball, and noticed Rebecca there, pimping her Gimp around. I had seen her many times before and as I said to you earlier, I wanted her.’
Dr Ennis knelt down on the floor in front of Saul’s left foot, placed a nail on the top of it and thrust the hammer down hard onto it, puncturing through the skin and bone, Saul screeching in agony instantly. Dr Ennis smiled.
‘I watched her all night, admiring the way she dominated her Gimp, fantasising about what I wanted to do with her luscious body before I killed her. When they left the club, I followed them. I thought they were going back to her flat. I knew where she lived, I had followed her before. I was surprised when they got out of the taxi on the high street, but I did likewise and followed behind them at a discreet distance. Then I lost them. They turned a corner and when I got to it, they were gone. At the time, I didn’t realise they were in the limousine that drove by. I went to her flat, knowing that if she wasn’t there already, she would be there soon. She wasn’t there, so I picked the lock, went into her bedroom, opened the curtains so that the streetlight cast a glow into the darkness, and made myself comfortable under her bed, patiently waiting for her to come home.’
Dr Ennis picked up another nail from the trolley and knelt down next to Saul’s right foot. His eye line was with Saul’s crotch and he smirked as he saw his penis semi erect again. He placed the nail against the foot and, looking up to Saul’s pleading face, malevolently drove the nail home, devouring the anguished cries of Saul with avarice.
‘It was 4:30 am when I heard the front door. There were muffled voices, more than one person, and some shuffling and bumping outside the bedroom. My initial though was that the two of them were drunk and trying to navigate across the living room. The bedroom door opened and two sets of feet entered, one a man, one a woman. They seemed to be carrying something, which they placed on the bed, and then they both left the room, closing the door, after which I heard the front door shut. I waited for another half an hour in silence before quietly edging myself out from under the bed. I raised my head slowly, making out two shapes on the bed in the ruddy glow of the streetlights. One was Rebecca, naked. The other was Michael, still in his Gimp suit.’