“Does it, now?” mused Fantasia. “Backup is on the way.”
It was shortly before 2 a.m. that Ankerita heard footsteps on the landing. Since moving rooms, she had not been troubled at night, and was getting used to hearing the sounds, when she did notice. She knew it was the old man who originally owned the house, and he seemed to be set in a routine; up and down the landing a few times, and then into the master bedroom. She smiled to herself as she thought of the reaction that Iliesca would have. So much for him pooh-pooing her odd comments about the paranormal.
As she listened, Ankerita heard the bedroom door across the landing. She heard an exclamation, which fortunately she didn’t understand, and then came the boss’s call. “Popescu, are you having a laugh?”
Ankerita heard the door to the bedroom next to hers opening. “Ce?”
“There is someone in here with me. Is it you?”
Ankerita was out of bed, and opened her own door.
“No, boss.” Popescu was on the landing, staring at the closed door to the master-suite.
A clock struck two. As they watched, the bedroom door opened and a cold breeze wafted up the landing. Footsteps walked right past them and to the end of the corridor, disappearing around where the mirror was.
The two men gazed in confusion.
“It’s a ghost,” explained Ankerita, a lot more calmly than she felt. “The man who used to live here; it’s his phantom in the mirror.”
“I see,” said Iliesca.
“He can’t harm you. Now, do you believe what I was saying about the Other World?”
“Not really,” said Iliesca. “Are you sure the mirror is to blame? Can we get rid of it?”
“He comes with the house,” said Ankerita. “I think he’s trapped in the glass. It’s one of the things belonging to the place; one of your things. I couldn’t throw it away, could I?”
“I suppose not. Poppy, we’ll dispose of it in the morning. I expect our charity shop will be glad to take it.”
“What, and pass the spirit off to someone else?” Popescu was shaking, which Ankerita found slightly amusing for a man of his size.
“Why not,” said Iliesca. “Can’t put the poor man totally out of his home like that, can we?”
As Popescu started to reply, there was a crash on the front door, and the splintering of wood. Four hooded figures burst into the hallway below, one wielding a red battering-ram. Before Iliesca and Popescu could react, the invaders had charged the stairs and flattened them. Iliesca was knocked out cold as his head hit the wall, and the huge Popescu folded double as he was hit in the stomach with the ram. His assailant brought a knee up as Popescu crumpled, and caught him full in the face.
Ankerita stood, petrified. Someone grabbed her, folded her arms up, and slung her over his shoulder. Before she could realise what was happening, she was bundled into the boot of a large car. She lay, bewildered, as it drove quickly away.
The whole operation had taken less than a minute.
“We have her at last, boss.”
“Thank you, Mr Praed.” Fantasia slumped in her executive chair, and sighed. “I’ll be with you, presently.” She cut the link. “It’s taken long enough,” she murmured, “but I’ve got you. No more of your twisting and turnings, Missy.” She regarded the bank of images on the huge screen, each one showing the input from a public camera, and pointed a remote control. The screen went blank. “It has taken a long time, but I won’t need that anymore,” she said.
17. Killing Room
T
he boot lid opened, and Ankerita blinked fearfully out at her captors. The Mercedes was parked in a large warehouse, illuminated by powerful halogen lamps. One of the men bent and heaved her out, setting her on her feet. She whimpered, as a bare ankle caught on the lip of the boot.
“Be careful with her,” said a voice that Ankerita recognised.
“Danny Keech, you villainous, swag-bellied rats-bane,” Ankerita rounded on him. “How could you do this to me?” She glared at the former policeman, as the others escorted her further into the vast room, holding her by the arms.
“I owed you one, my lady.”
“And you’ve betrayed me yet again. Why?”
“It was your tricks that got me kicked out of the Force.”
“Tricks? You wouldn’t leave me alone. You simply couldn’t be satisfied, knowing me as I was; you had to pry.”
“Whatever,” said Danny. “It’s my nature as a copper.”
“Ex copper,” one of the men reminded him.
“Yeah, yeah.” Danny shrugged.
“You had to join these evil men?” Ankerita snarled.
“Who else would have me?” said Danny. “You ruined my career. Actually, pay and working conditions with my new organisation are far better, so I suppose I should be grateful.”
“And that involves kidnapping?”
“Shut it, bitch.” One of the men raised his hand. Ankerita flinched, but the blow didn’t fall. Danny intercepted the arm.
“I said be careful with her, Jonesy,” he snarled. “The boss wants her in one piece; no damage, or the ritual will not work.”
“Ritual, hah. It’s all a load of bosh,” said the man sullenly. “We’ve got her. Why can’t we simply have her, and finish her off? That would mean the boss won’t have any more problems.” He licked his lips.
“Yolo, do you want me to call her and find out?” Danny had his hand-held out, and waved it at his colleague.
“I suppose not.”
“I agree with Danny.” Ankerita recognised the third man as well. It was Praed, who had hounded her in the Lakes. He was watching the power struggle with interest.
“What do you say, Chris?” Yolo appealed to him.
“My old dad always used to say to me, when I was a kid, ‘Always be on the side of the person with the biggest stick’.”
“Meaning?”
“You two sort it out between you, and I’ll support the winner... if it matches what the boss wants.”
Both the other men scowled at him.
“Thanks a bunch,” said Danny, eventually. “Now let’s get the bitch settled.”
A mobile rang. “Talk about the boss...” Praed put it on speaker. “Yes ma’am.”
Fantasia’s voice came through. She sounded exasperated. “I just checked, and it appears the planets aren’t perfectly in alignment yet. You have been premature with your capture.”
“Sorry, ma’am. We had to take the chance when it presented itself. We couldn’t let them strengthen forces any further. I intercepted a call to the old country...”
“Yes, yes, but I need another three days. You’re going to have to accommodate our guest until the end of the week. That means feeding, washing, making sure she remains whole. Do you understand me? No one is to harm her in any way.”
“It will be difficult to watch her. We will need to sleep.”
“Are all three of you still there?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Take it in turns, and make sure Yolo Jones keeps his filthy hands off. Tell him that his head will be first on the block for damage of any sort, whoever is to blame. I’ve lost the girl before; I’m not losing her again. You know what happened to those guys who let me down last time...”
“I can guess that they are not living it up on a beach somewhere warm.”
“You got the ‘warm’ bit right. I trust you comprehend what I’m saying?”
“Loud and clear, ma’am.”
“Then make sure the others do too. Bye.”
Praed cut the link. “You heard the boss,” he said, “and that includes you, little lady.” He regarded Ankerita, who was now gagged and tied to a chair. “If you escape, we will find ourselves discussing our personal development plans with Old Nick, get my meaning. So if you want us to die, by all means make a break for it, but rest assured, you will not get away. Having one’s mortality called to the fore, helps to focus prioriti
es.”
“Yes,” Jones put in. “If you get damaged, and are no further use to the boss, we will be taking our frustrations out on you, before she gets to us. You will take a long time to die.” He reached out with his toe and flipped the dressing-gown out of the way so that the girl’s legs were on show.
Ankerita had only her short nightdress underneath. She tried to kick him, but with bare feet, was not very successful.
“Feisty, aren’t we?” Jones caught the foot and ran his hand slowly up her calf.
“Yolo, please.” Danny stepped in. “Remember, the boss said she should be pure.”
“She doesn’t look pure.” The man cupped Ankerita’s chin and lifted her head up. “She’s a mess.” He sniffed. “And smells.”
“You will clean up, I expect.” Danny wrinkled his nose. “Won’t you, dear?”
Ankerita could say nothing. The gag was making her feel terrible, and she had wet herself.
“We have a shower-room.” Danny indicated a boxlike structure in the centre of the store. He saw Ankerita’s eyes travel towards it. “Don’t try to think of escaping; it is inside the warehouse, and totally sealed... We can do this the easy way, and let you clean yourself up, or the hard way, and I’ll send Mr Jones, here, to help scrub you down. Will you be quiet if I take the gag away?”
Ankerita nodded hopelessly.
“There is no point shouting,” said Danny. “We are in a unit in what used to be a ‘development’ area. Nobody else could afford the rates, so the place is conveniently deserted. The only reason you have the gag, is to stop you using language which will upset my good friends here.”
The other thugs grinned. “Yeah, we’re right sensitive pussies.” Jones rubbed his hands.
“Listen.” Danny brought her to attention. “Nod if you’ll be a good girl, and not start shouting and wailing. Be warned, the slightest bother and the gag goes back on.”
Ankerita nodded again. Danny removed the dirty cloth. She tried to spit the fibres out of her mouth. “Could I have some water, please?” The words came out painfully.
“Of course... Leave her, Keech.” Praed went over to a door at the front of the store, which opened into an office. After a short while, he returned with a bottle for her. “Now if you promise to be a good girl, I’ll untie your hands, and you can have a drink. Be warned...” He raised a finger.
The prisoner was released, and she painfully tried to rub the circulation back into her wrists. Jones leered at her. She pulled the dressing gown back over her knees, and took several long gulps of the water, until the cold made her retch.
“Sorry,” she said meekly. “Please can I use the shower? I’m sorry about the mess. It’s just that you guys scared the horror out of me. I can see that you are only doing your job, and don’t mean me any harm. I’ll do whatever you say.”
“That’s more like it,” said Praed. “You can get changed in there. You’ll find a clean set of clothes.”
Ankerita stood up carefully. She felt horrible, cold and wet, and her legs shook. She tried to hold the dressing-gown around her as she shuffled towards the shower room.
“There’s no lock on the door,” Jones taunted. “If you need us, you only have to call.”
Ankerita would have shot him a murderous glance, but realised she mustn’t provoke. Instead, she ignored him, and gratefully closed the shower-room door behind her.
Praed was right. There were clothes for her, and plenty of tissues, shower cream, hair shampoo and everything else she needed to clean up. There was a phial of a perfume called ‘Chance’, to which someone had added the word ‘no’ in maker pen. She gave a little moan.
She stripped, and found the dagger, still in the pocket of her dressing-gown. “How did they not discover that?” she mused. “I guess it all happened so quickly, and maybe, just maybe, it still has some enchantment. Nobody found it in the deserted village for all those years. Perhaps it’s only visible to me, after all... No, George cut himself, and he could see it, but then he had no evil intentions. These are bad people. Is it undetectable to them? I bet it won’t be, if I stick a few before they take me down. Nobody treats me like this!”
After a long shower, Ankerita felt more confident. There was a grey tracksuit laid out, and skimpy underwear. She ripped the elastic out of her own soiled knickers, washed it and tied it around her waist. It held the rondel nicely in position at her back. The blade seemed to mould itself to her.
Back at the house, Iliesca was nursing his damaged head, and Popescu was cursing in his own language as he dabbed his nose and gingerly probed his ribs. For once, Iliesca didn’t try to correct him. “This is personal,” he said, eventually.
“You mean we aren’t going to let them go?” The big man began to look hopeful.
Iliesca scowled. “We have been humiliated, had our house invaded and one of our employees kidnapped. The Code demands retaliation.”
“It does, but where do we start?”
As if in answer, they heard a mobile ringing in Ankerita’s room. Iliesca limped in, and picked it up.
“Pet, is everything alright?” He heard the accent.
“George, you old rogue. Where have you been?”
“Oh, hi boss. I left ma girl in charge. Have you met her?”
“Briefly, until some guys broke in and hijacked her.”
“Shit. I was supposed to look after her. I think I know who is responsible. Any ideas where they’ve gone?”
“Not yet. I’ve got reinforcements on the way, but it takes time to arrange the traffic. Once they’re here, we’ll tackle their head office, and beat a location out of them.”
“Is there a glass ball on the table?”
“Why?”
“I can use it to find her.”
“Right, if you say so... There is something under a tea-towel. Yes, is that actually a crystal ball?”
“That’s all I need. I’ll catch the next train down.”
“And you can track her down with that?”
“Nae problem.”
Iliesca crossed himself. “Domnul ne salvează... God speed.”
Two days had gone by in the warehouse. Ankerita was getting used to the situation, and the men, although still watching her like auditors over a dying financial institution, were playing cards, dozing in shifts, and occasionally taking breaks to forage for provisions. They let her sleep across the easy chairs in the office, and had found a sleeping bag for her. Even Yolo Jones seemed to be falling under her spell.
She kept herself well groomed, and made use of the perfume. Her captors had insisted that she wear it, and would linger near her. Ankerita accepted it without comment. The nearer they were, the easier it would be for her to slash and stab. She knew she could never take all of them, but if she could get Danny, at least she would have some satisfaction.
The men took her ring away to prevent her ‘harming herself’ with it, but it was only in a drawer of a filing cabinet, and they had no idea about the hidden rondel. They were strictly hands-off.
On the third day, Praed got a call from Fantasia.
“The portents are right at last,” she said. “I’m coming over. Is she ready?”
“Certainly. We’ve kept her sparkly for you.”
“Good. Get her to thoroughly clean herself, and make sure she has the special robes on; you know those I mean?”
Praed grinned. “We are looking forward to the show.”
“I’m sure you are.”
The water was cascading over her body in the shower as Ankerita planned how she could make her move. She decided to wait until there was the most distraction, and then bring the knife out, slash and stab and try to take as many of them down as she could. She hoped the blade would be most effective, with little effort on her part. If she couldn’t fight them off, she would save the last cut for herself. They were not going to have the satisfaction of her living body. She thought she heard a vehicle in the warehouse, but the sound of the w
ater muffled it.
The door opened, and Ankerita covered herself as Praed brought in clothing for her. “Change into this, and be quick. No underwear. If we find any still on you when you come out, Yolo has volunteered to remove it. Don’t give him that pleasure.” He left a dress draped over the sink. She nearly gagged as he peered at the pile of her old clothes on the floor, the clothes concealing her dagger. Desperately she tried to divert his attention. “You can go, thank you. I won’t be long.”
He gave a suspicious glance at the discarded items. “I shall take these away.”
“I’m getting out now.” She barged the shower door open. “Give me some privacy, for goodness sake.”
Praed backed off as she pushed him away. “Sorry. I’ll wait outside.”
“Probably for the best.” She closed the door behind him and leaned on it while she dried herself. Then she investigated the item Praed had left for her.
It was a simple white one-piece, backless, split up to the waist at the sides, and to her navel in the front. It was gathered with a short cord (not long enough to hang herself, she noted, sadly). It did not take long to put on, and because of the way it lay, Ankerita knew there was no hope of hiding much. The cord provided the only modesty she was allowed. It did however allow her to hide the rondel on her left buttock, and cover it with the rear drop of the material.
As Ankerita emerged from the shower-room, there was a whistle from Praed. She swept in like a princess, deliberately giving them tantalising glimpses of her toned legs. Her plan was simple. Keep them off guard, gaping at her body, and then slash and stab. There were only three of them. She actually did have a chance, especially as the dagger would inflict hideous wounds. But then, she froze and stared in dismay. In the centre of the warehouse was now a raised black slab. Around the side was a gully, and the gully sloped to a drain with a glass demijohn under it. At the corners of the slab were brass rings—rings for attaching ropes. The harsh lights were out, and in their place, candles burned. She noticed a flat-bed truck parked at the back of the room and a slight tang of diesel fumes. That must be how it all got there so quickly, she thought. They are really in a hurry. This is not good, and all too familiar.
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