Saving Tara Goodwin (Mystery Book 1)

by Richard Harrington

  The envelope that carried no scent but had obviously been addressed by a feminine hand, and though it seemed empty, it carried her future nonetheless in the form of just one word.

  Valkerie.

  She’d thought back through her years as a case officer for British Intelligence, and it didn’t need a spook or a ghost to figure out that a one word code told a never ending story, and known only to the sender and its target.

  Dmitri had finally come home from the library, and following her challenging gaze, saw the envelope standing beside the clock on the mantel piece, and putting it into his pocket, went to the bathroom, but when he returned, she saw that the envelope had disappeared.

  Standing angry and defiant in the bedroom, she watched as he filled his backpack with casual clothes and the few items most dear to him.

  ‘You’re going to that bloody woman, aren’t you?’

  He closed the flap and clipped the buckles, ‘I tell you, I visit old friend, only two days.’

  She sneered, ‘Yes, and your friend just happens to have big red tits, doesn’t she?’

  ‘Licity, believe how you like it. I go now.’

  ‘Alright, but if you don’t come back, I’ll make you pay’

  He slung the pack over his shoulder, his dark eyes smouldering.

  ‘I tell you, friend from Budapest has trouble in London. I help is all. Only two days’

  She glared at him, ‘Two days then. But remember, I’ve got your papers and passport, and if you don’t come back, I’ll report you to my friends in the firm. Understand?’

  He smiled, but his eyes were cold, ‘…Da, and is good you love me, Licity.’

  Standing with clenched fists, she listened as he clumped down the stairs, and when the panes of glass rattled in the slammed door, she knew he wouldn’t return.

  Parking the Morris in the garage behind the barn, Lucinda snatched the rear door open, and grabbing Christiana by the hair, pulled her out, and standing with her feet squarely apart, smacked her hard across the face.

  ‘Wake up, you bitch.’

  Christiana fell backwards, and grabbing her hair, Lucinda pulled her to the kitchen.

  ‘Come on, it’s time to say sorry, and guess what, your friend Arthur is waiting for you.’

  Arthur looked up in amazement as Christiana was pushed inside to sprawl over the table.

  ‘Yes, Arthur, I found her, no thanks to you.’

  Turning, she saw Martha dressed in her finest, ‘And where do you think you’re going?’

  ‘Well we were going to the hospital, ma’am.’

  Lucinda scowled, ‘Not yet, you’re not. You’re taking this cow up to my bedroom, then strip her and tie her on the bed, you can use the cuffs and ropes in my wardrobe.’

  She glared to Arthur, ‘You can have half an hour with her, then go and call off your useless friends and get yourselves to hospital.’

  Nodding, he walked over to Christiana, lifted her T shirt up over her breasts, and smiling, grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her blindly away to the stairs.

  Sighing to the raw shooting pain in her head, Lucinda took a bottle of wine from the rack, and snatching up Christiana’s tobacco tin, walked through to the lounge to undress.

  Tossing the hated clothes into a heap on the sofa, she walked out through the French doors to settle herself on the deep cushions of the swing seat, the wine relaxing her, the warm summer air soothing her naked body, and with the smoking of the cannabis, the tensions within her began to ease, but she suddenly jumped when a high pitched scream reverberated through the big old house.

  Sitting up, another, heart wrenching, withering scream floated out into the still air, and storming off the swing seat, she threw the cushions away across the lawn.

  ‘If those two lunatics have killed her, there’ll be big trouble.’

  Checking his watch, Dmitri walked quickly away from the house, and pushing on into town, eased his way through the late shoppers, and as he passed by the bank, wondered how long it would be before Licity discovered he’d emptied their joint account.

  He shrugged his shoulders, so why should he feel guilty, he’d only taken money but she had tried to steal his life, and anyway, it was too late to change things, Christiana was waiting for him and nothing else mattered.

  Smiling, he tried to visualise their new lives together, but as he rounded the corner he saw the last passengers boarding the bus to Bath, and running down the street, jumped on board as the door hissed closed behind him.

  Paying the fare, he settled back, but the driver said the bus terminated at Bath.

  What that meant? Bus not go his Malmesbury?

  Never mind, worry later, at least he was on his way and free of Licity at last.

  Relaxing back in the seat, he watched the countryside slip past his window, and thinking of Christiana, remembered her saying she would leave the madhouse of Sheverill’s Farm and he to meet her at old friend’s house at Hawthorn Cottage, The Mumbles, Malmesbury.

  Smiling to his darkening reflection in the window, he remembered that years ago when he’d checked on Christiana, he’d found she was one of the most resourceful foreign operatives ever known to the Komityet Gosudarstvyennoi Byezopasnosti. The KGB.

  The pitiful sobs were already fading away as Lucinda stormed into the house, and rushing up the stairs, thundered angrily down the long gloomy corridor, but when she slammed the bedroom door open, everything was just as she’d instructed.

  Christiana was laying naked on the bed, her wrists and ankles chained and roped to the posts, and Arthur was panting on top of her.

  Frowning, she walked over, and leaning forward, shouted into her face.

  ‘He’s only screwing you, you stupid bitch, so what’s all the bloody screaming for?’

  Martha coughed nervously, and swinging round, Lucinda saw the pliers in her hand, and then the blood as it dripped from the red toenail held tight in its jaws.

  Lucinda froze, her eyes staring, her beautiful face becoming contorted with rage.

  ‘I said I didn’t want her marked yet, you stupid old faggot.’

  ‘Sorry ma’am, but Arthur wanted her noisy.’

  ‘Well bollocks to Arthur, I wanted her pretty and all in one piece for the films, but just look at her now, you old witch, so how many nails have you ripped off?’

  ‘Only two, ma’am, there’s plenty left for later, and I haven’t touched her teeth.’

  ‘But that’s not the point, is it, she’s spoilt now, and you’ve taken one of the big ones, you selfish cow, you know they’re my favourites.’

  Martha gently laid the bloodied toenail down onto the bed, ‘I’m very sorry, ma’am.’

  ‘I should damned well think so. And you, Arthur, finish and get off her.’

  Samantha heard the shrill bleeping of the alarm, and hurrying through to the study, cancelled the security alert, and looking at the screen, saw the link to the Minotaur had been privately accessed, and tapping in the Bunker’s password, checked the Minotaur entry and was surprised to see that DC had requested, 'All information - Frank Lewis'.

  Pursing her lips, she wondered if Angela should be told about this, or maybe just wait and see if anything developed, and she was still mulling over the possibilities when Frank appeared in the doorway, ‘I heard the alarm. So is everything okay?’

  She thought quickly, ‘Yes, it’s alright, someone had privately accessed the computer, but it was a correct procedure.’

  He wondered who could have such high security clearance they could act privately.

  ‘Right. Well I’m going for a walk now, I need to get my bones moving.’

  ‘Oh? So where did you have in mind?’

  He half smiled. It was pretty obvious this lady had been given her orders.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m just going over to the copse, there’s something I want to see.’

  Sam felt her chest tighten, ‘Are you sure? It doesn’t sound like a good idea.’

  Listening to her, he realised it w
asn’t only himself who’d been warned off that place.

  ‘It’s okay, I’ve been there before, and I only want to check something.’

  ‘But I thought the copse was out of bounds to all personnel.’

  ‘Yeah, so they say, but I’ve already been there with Angela, so don’t worry.’

  She relaxed a little, ‘Oh, I see. Well I guess it’s alright then. I didn’t know.’

  Wandering through the graveyard, it didn’t take long to find what he was looking for.

  Five graves had been freshly dug, and three of them were already filled, probably with Dudley, Anderton and Hillsdown. But the other two were waiting, and he guessed they were meant for Monty and little Tara Goodwin.

  Watching, Lucinda stared through cold eyes as the twins drove away in the Land Rover, and when Martha gave her a small cautious smile, she scowled.

  ‘You stupid old hag. Thanks to you two idiots, I won’t get any sense out of Chrissy until at least tomorrow, and that just happens to be a damned nuisance.’

  Standing in the deserted kitchen, she knew she was in no mood to speak to Chrissy.

  She was bound to complain, and couldn’t stand another moaning woman.

  Martha was bad enough.

  ‘My hand hurts, my hand hurts,’ But why the fuck tell me … It’s not my bloody fault if she can’t use the kitchen tools properly. Do I have to be responsible for everyone?

  Snatching angrily at a bottle of wine, she flounced out of the kitchen and along the shadowy path to the lovers fountain, and sitting down on the bench, drank the wine from the bottle until the blinding pain in her head began to ease.

  And it was soothing, just watching the boy and girl making love in the moonlight, but she shivered involuntarily when she thought of them up there in the priest hole.

  But that wasn’t her fault, they’d been such wonderful models she couldn’t bear to see them leave, and anyway, she’d given them eternal life, out here in the moonlight.

  Thinking of them, they reminded her of the boy and girl in the Swiss clock, and that a man by the name of Montague was only waiting for confirmation of address before she would be sent out to cleanse him, but at least she now had her darling Chrissy, and if she could take the Goodwin girl tomorrow, she would be back on schedule.

  But that, of course, brought another worry.

  If Angela didn’t want Montague to be returned, there would be two more playmates for the priest hole, but it was getting crowded now, and although the girls could sleep two to a box, she wondered if it might seem indecent to ask one of them to share with Montague, after all, he was a grown man and they didn’t even know each other.

  Ted had watched over Tara all evening, and he thought it strange, because although she seemed perfectly happy in the crowded pub and was quite willing to talk to anyone, she always made sure to stay close to either Sammy or himself, and he wondered why.

  As the evening went on, it occurred to him that she only became nervous when some of the older men got too close and friendly, and then she would suddenly turn and flick that hollow glance of fear to him.

  And later, when they’d finally made their way out of the pub, he watched and listened as Sammy Paradise tried every trick in the book to walk her home, and although he knew she was excited and tempted, she simply gave Sammy a huge smile and said goodnight.

  Slipping her arm through his, they strolled off down the moonlit lane to the cottage, but suddenly she stopped, and looking up to him with her bright and open, innocent smile, asked if it would be alright if she helped out in the garage tomorrow.

  Ted thought it would be absolutely wonderful, his heart almost bursting.

  ‘And why not? What could possibly happen to her there?’

  3 8

  Samantha awoke to the ringing of Angela’s red phone, and throwing back the covers, stumbled out of bed and made her way down the stairs.

  Getting dressed, Frank followed on down, ‘Problem?’

  ‘Yes, that was Louise, Angela’s coming back, and she isn’t very happy.’

  ‘Oh, and did she say why?’

  ‘No, except she’s been in a meeting all night.’

  Drinking coffee in the kitchen, they heard Angela’s car come skidding to a halt, and when she marched up to the cottage, slammed open the kitchen door.

  ‘Good, you’re both up, so did Louise phone?’

  ‘Yes ma’am, and I’ve made fresh coffee if you’d like some.’

  ‘I certainly would, my nerves are giving me hell.’

  She looked over to Frank, ‘And you can take the day off, I’m going to be busy with Sam.’

  Nodding, he walked out as Samantha brought the coffee to the table.

  ‘It looks like you’ve had a rough time, ma’am.’

  ‘Well you could say that, as the shit has finally hit the fan, big time.’

  ‘Oh dear, and why’s that?’

  ‘Glenndenning, and as we know, he’s responsible for the file violation, but I can’t send Lewis after him because I’ve just found out he’s on the list of names, and the only people who can authorise his cleansing, are the Continuum.’

  ‘But they would, wouldn’t they?’

  ‘Sure they would, but I can only access them through that cow, Michaela Rattenegger and for some reason she’s blocking it, and if that wasn’t bad enough, Glenndenning is sailing on his yacht today and he wants a particular young lady on board by this afternoon.’

  ‘So is that a problem?’

  Angela glared, ‘Well it sure will be if we don’t send a message, pretty damned quick, because I’ve already told DC to kill that particular young lady on sight.’

  Lucinda awoke early in the guestroom, and as she laid there with her thoughts in a tangle, the alarm clock suddenly went off, and sitting up, she threw it across the room.

  ‘For god’s sake, shut up.’

  Glowering, she got out of bed and stormed off down the hall to Christiana.

  ‘Oh, so you’re awake, are you? Well isn’t that nice, just laying in bed to all hours, but do you know what kind of a night I’ve had? No ... and not that you care of course, but I’ll tell you anyway.’

  ‘Well first I had to make my own supper, then I had to make-up that fucking torture chamber of a bed in the guestroom, and then I had a stupid nurse on the phone from the hospital. And can you imagine what that total idiot said?’

  ‘She had the nerve to tell me that the dopey twins were being kept in for surgery!’

  ‘I told the stupid bitch the servants had work to do here, but would she listen, and did she even care one jot that I had to fend for myself?’

  ‘No, she bloody well didn’t, and now I’ve got to play nursemaid to you, and I suppose you’ll be expecting breakfast in bed. So is that what you want?’

  ‘Oh, but of course. Yes ma’am, no ma’am. And don’t you trouble yourself about me, because you’re the high and mighty, frigging guest. So what the hell does that make me, a fucking servant?’

  Staying silent, Christiana almost wept at how easily Lucinda had taken her at the cottage, but worst of all, she’d now drawn Dmitri into danger by sending him the Valkerie note.

  Listening to Lucinda storming down the long stairs, she felt the pain of the chains and handcuffs holding her tightly on the bed, and she still could hardly believe how it had all gone so horribly wrong, and just when she’d found Dmitri again.

  Forcing herself to think, she used the pain and the hate of the twins to keep her spirit fighting, the rape by Arthur an obscenity while the pain from Martha’s games had been hideous beyond thought.

  But even worse was the fear of what was to come, and she’d told Dmitri she was staying here at the farm, so what would happen to him if he decided to come and look for her?

  As Lucinda prepared a tray of hot buttered toast, marmalade and boiling coffee, that hated tune suddenly floated out, and quivering, looked across the kitchen and saw the little wooden boy and girl revolving around and around in the Swiss clock.
/>   She faltered, her body convulsing, and while she trembled, her hands spilt the coffee over the rim of the mug. So had Montague’s confirmation come through already?

  Hearing footsteps on the stair, Christiana tried to hold back the panic, then the bedroom door was suddenly kicked open, and there she was again.

  ‘So, you’re still in bed. Well if you want your breakfast, then fucking well have it.’

  Christiana saw the tray sailing through the air towards her, and then it crashed down, the boiling coffee scalding her eyes, hot buttered toast cascading into her face, the china plate cracking her forehead while the heavy tray hit her mouth and split her lips.

  Lucinda watched as she thrashed and tried to wipe the boiling coffee from her eyes, and as she writhed in agony, her flesh bled with the cutting of the chains and handcuffs, but she only closed the bedroom door and shrugged her shoulders to the sobbing.

  Sitting quietly in the priest hole, she read through the decoded message, but it wasn’t Montague’s confirmation after all.

  Attn DC. IMPERATIVE NOTICE.

  The deliverance of TARA GOODWIN is cancelled. Repeat, CANCELLED.

  She is required on the yacht POLYVOTIS at Hamble Marina, Southampton Water.

  If possible, take her to Hamble today. POLYVOTIS is due to sail soon.

  Confirm IMMEDIATELY.

  Best wishes,

  A.

  She glowered at the message. Well isn’t that just frigging wonderful.

  Now, not only did she have to snare the bitch, but she had to drive the cow to her yacht…

  A bloody servant, that’s all she was to everyone.

  It was early when Dmitri walked out of the guesthouse and the old city of Bath was already bustling, and looking around, smiled with the pleasure of it, the frantic organised chaos of a city coming to life, suiting him very well.

  Wandering down the tree lined avenue to the bus depot, he soaked up the energy buzzing around him, the buses, delivery vans and trucks, people hustling to offices and shops, the cafés and street vendors selling coffee and rolls while boisterous children caught their buses to school, the pretty girls going to work, and postmen, traffic wardens and streetwise pigeons on the crowded jostling pavements, and boys and girls delivering newspapers.