by Helen L Lowe
Again, he tried to keep his mouth closed.
‘Open your mouth or I’ll start pulling teeth – only they won’t be yours, they’ll be Sam’s.’
The tube was brutally forced down his throat and no amount of gagging or heaving made her stop. She filled the funnel with the milky liquid and held it high enough for it to drain into the tubing but with Julian lying flat with his head down off the mattress and Harriet allowing it to run too fast, liquid was tracking back up the oesophagus making him retch and cough while he fought to breathe. His eyes were filled with tears from the continual retching but as the physical assault continued the tears changed to tears of rage and frustration, and with his head tipped back they ran down the sides of his head to the floor. He realised that he had been in denial until this moment but now, he could visualise their slow deaths at the hands of this insane and callous killer.
CHAPTER 46
9:30 a.m. Tuesday 11 April
Lizzie sat at the breakfast bar in her sister’s kitchen watching her daughters playing in the garden with their cousins. She was certain now that something had happened to Julian to make him disappear or to make him want to disappear, and she tried to think through the possible scenarios.
Julian had been helping the police get evidence on John Erikson and had risked his life in doing so, but suppose Erikson’s accomplices were furious that their chain in the trafficking of drugs had been taken down. They may be running scared, worried about Erikson talking or mad at Julian and suspicious that he knew their identity.
The other possibility was more upsetting in a way because it was Julian deliberately hiding from her.
Sally sat next to her. ‘Are you ok?’
Lizzie shook her head.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m not sure yet - I can’t just sit around and wait.’
‘He still might call.’
‘No, something’s wrong. He wouldn’t just leave me like that.’
Sally put her arm around Lizzie and hugged her. ‘I know you don’t want to think this but he could just want some space - time to think things through.’
‘No,’ Lizzie said firmly. ‘Julian would have told me - you weren’t there by his hospital bed. You didn’t hear what he said or saw the look in his eyes when he thought I’d be going back home before he was discharged.’
‘What about Charlotte, the reporter – maybe he’s with her.’
Lizzie hesitated. ‘I didn’t think of that – but he would have rung me or left a message.’ She leant on the bar and covered her face with her hands. ‘Yes, of course. I’m being foolish to think I’m the only woman he cares about.’
‘But you couldn’t blame him for that - you can’t expect him to be waiting around for you.’
‘Shh, Sally - why do you always say what you’re thinking?’
‘We’re sisters - if I can’t be honest with you . . .’
‘Ok - I know you’re right but I’ve still got to find him to make sure he’s safe.’
‘Do you know where Charlotte lives?’
‘No - but I know she works for the Daily Mirror.’
* * *
Lizzie took a taxi to the Daily Mirror’s head office because she hated driving in central London and because she had no idea where it was. In the taxi, she racked her brain trying to remember Charlotte’s surname. She walked through the large revolving doors and stopped at the reception desk. An attractive young woman with red hair looked at her questioningly.
‘I would like to talk to a young woman called “Charlotte”, she’s a reporter but I can’t remember her surname. It’s double barrelled – the last name is “Brown”.’
The receptionist smiled and looked down at a list on her desk. ‘Charlotte Stratton-Brown?’
‘Yes, of course, thank you. Where’s her office?’
‘I’ll give her a call and she can come and collect you - your name, please?’
‘Lizzie Harrison – and say it’s concerning Julian Hartmann - thank you.’
The young woman spoke to someone on the phone and replaced the receiver. ‘If you take a seat, she’ll be with you in a moment.’
Lizzie sat down in a waiting area, relieved that Charlotte had agreed to see her but anxious about how she would react to Lizzie searching for one of her ex-boyfriends. She saw Charlotte walking down a long open staircase and their eyes met before she had reached the ground floor.
Charlotte smiled. ‘The receptionist said you wanted to talk about Julian.’
Lizzie felt her cheeks flush. ‘I’m probably being quite neurotic but I think Julian has disappeared and I’m hoping you know where he is.’
Charlotte led her over to a secluded corner of the reception and they sat down together. ‘Disappeared – you mean you can’t find him?’
‘We had arranged to have lunch together on Monday and he didn’t turn up. I checked Sussex House but the landlady said he had checked out on Sunday – she even showed me his empty room. She said they’d had an argument about a house rule, and he became angry and said he was going to a hotel.’
‘I can imagine him getting annoyed. It was probably the rule about no female visitors in the rooms. It’s a ridiculous rule anyway and Julian doesn’t like to be told what to do.’
‘Actually, I was hoping he was with you,’ Lizzie said.
‘We’re no longer an item, I’m afraid.’ She thought for a moment. ‘You could try the Worsley Hotel in Bayswater.’
‘I’ve been there.’
‘Or his parents’ flat?’
‘And there.’
‘Well, maybe he’s gone to a different hotel.’
‘Yes, perhaps or maybe he’s ill and in hospital,’ Lizzie felt like she was going to cry and tried hard not to in front of Charlotte.
Charlotte stood up. ‘I’d like to say come up to my office and we’ll make some phone calls but I’d probably lose my job if they knew I was making personal calls. Hang on here and I’ll think of an excuse to leave the office and we can go back to my place.’
CHAPTER 47
Sussex House
11:10 a.m. Tuesday 11 April
Julian’s throat was raw and painful from the tube feed the previous night. He slept fitfully; drifting around in an endless vacuum until the sound of a petrol engine invaded the space and he saw Jack, Aunt Sybil’s gardener, mowing the massive lawn in Cornwall one hot summer’s day. It was a pleasant sight and brought back a happy moment from his childhood. Jack had been his surrogate father. He was a big burly looking man with a dry northern humour and an infectious laugh. He told Julian to stand up to the bullies at school and taught him some self-defence moves. They didn’t stop the bullying or the abuse from the older boys but at least he didn’t go down without a fight.
The maths tutor was a different story. There was nothing a young boy could do against such a figure of authority. In the end, fate stepped in and gave the man a heart attack during a maths lesson. Julian could still remember the way he clutched his chest and fell down to the floor. No-one in the class moved from their seat until the man stopped gasping for breath and went quiet.
That was the first time Julian became aware that all the boys in his class were either abused themselves or knew about the abuse, because not one of them came to the dying man’s aid. For Julian, who was only ten years old at the time, it was the happiest day of his life.
He was awake when he heard the sound of the cellar door opening. Now, he envisaged the door as a demonic creature guarding the threshold to the cellar of hell. He waited for the devil to appear.
The thought of seeing her gave him a glimmer of hope because it was another opportunity to reason with her but when Harry came into view around the chimney breast with a heinous expression on his face, fear encircled Julian’s heart like icicles in an ice storm.
Harry had a sheet of paper in his hand which he held up in front of Julian’s face.
IF YOU SPEAK
I WILL CUT OUT
YOUR TONGUE
Harry moved quietly and with speed as the large metal bedhead was removed and the pillows were pulled out from under Julian’s head. He reached into the bed to pull Julian by his arms until his head hung down off the mattress. He ripped the tape off Julian’s mouth. All of this was done in silence, and the longer the silence went on the more alarmed Julian became. His instinct was to talk to the man, to try and reason with him but he didn’t have the courage to test Harry’s resolve. He was just weighing up the pros and cons when a cut-throat razor appeared in front of his face.
He tried to prepare himself for some indescribable act of violence but Harry merely shaved him. It was a prolonged and painful procedure because he used no shaving cream or soap and scraped the blade across dry skin. When he had finished, the razor was covered in blood and Julian’s face was raw.
The hair on his head was next but it was done with an electric shaver, the type that barbers used. Julian was relieved that it was quick and pain free but when his head was completely bald Harry went over to the sink and came back with a surgical scalpel between his teeth.
He grabbed hold of Julian’s ankles and dragged him back down the bed, so that his head was no longer hanging off the mattress but instead was right up to the end, much too close if the bedhead and pillows were to be put back in place. Harry settled himself on the low stool behind the head of the bed and gripped Julian’s forehead with his left hand. His right hand, holding a pen, drew something on Julian’s scalp. The pen was replaced by the scalpel, and Harry started carving through the skin with careful deliberation; an artist creating a masterpiece.
CHAPTER 48
11:45 a.m. Tuesday 11 April
Lizzie was driven to Charlotte’s house in an E-Type Jag. When they entered the lounge, a young woman was sprawled on the sofa with the phone receiver glued to her ear.
‘Daisy, finish your call, please - I need the phone.’
Daisy pulled a face but did as she was asked and flounced upstairs to her room.
‘My sixteen year old sister,’ Charlotte said.
‘She’s very pretty and looks a lot older than sixteen.’
‘Yes, and she knows it. I have the unenviable task of keeping her in line.’
During the next three hours, they called every hotel in inner London and all the hospitals. They drew a complete blank. Charlotte made them chunky ham and cheese sandwiches and opened a bottle of red wine.
‘We’re going to need this for phase two of the investigation,’ Charlotte said.
Lizzie couldn’t help but smile and she felt grateful to have Charlotte helping her. ‘And what does phase two entail?’
‘I think we should investigate the last place he was seen, Sussex House. We’ll wait until after dark.’
‘But I saw his empty room,’ Lizzie said.
‘Did you ask to see it or did she offer to show you?’
‘I think she asked if I wanted to see it.’
‘Don’t you think that was a bit strange - I mean, if a tenant has moved out because of a disagreement and not given notice, not many landlords would be kindly disposed to offer proof that they had actually left.’
‘So you think she knows where Julian is?’
‘Perhaps?’
‘But why would she lie?’
‘I can’t imagine but from what Julian said, she’s not normal. Who knows what sordid stuff she gets up to in that spooky house?’
* * *
Sussex House
2 p.m. Tuesday 11 April
The cellar was in a mess when Harriet walked down the steps, which was often the case when Harry had been the last one in there. After putting on her uniform, she cleared away the boxes and rubbish before checking on Sam. He was still sedated but the bag of saline hanging on the drip stand was nearly empty. She replaced it with a full one and emptied the catheter bag. Feeling content that she had done everything she could for Sam, she turned her attention to his father.
Julian didn’t open his eyes when she turned on the overhead light. It was a shock to see his head shaved and his face covered in cuts and congealed blood. Harry said he would shave him but he didn’t normally cut the patients.
The state of Julian’s face wasn’t her only concern. The bed covers had been removed and the catheter was still in situ but there was a clamp on the tubing, preventing it from draining. The intravenous bag of saline was empty, and hung up on the stand was another empty bag of saline that had been used previously. She knew she hadn’t left it there, so Harry must have clamped off the catheter first and turned the speed of the drip up to run two bags of saline straight through. It would have completely filled up Julian’s bladder and with no possibility of draining into the bag, the urine had leaked around the catheter so that the bottom sheet was drenched in urine. Julian was lying on a cold wet bed.
Harriet was a bit puzzled as to why he was still asleep. Perhaps, she should have lowered the dose of Largactil as he lost weight. She estimated that he may have lost about half a stone but doubted it would have made that much difference to the effect of the drug. It was more likely to be an accumulation of drugs in his system and perhaps connected to his recent hospital admission, but at least it would make it easier to wash him and change the bottom sheet.
She prepared the trolley with a bowl of warm water, soap and towels and on the bottom shelf she had a clean sheet ready. As a precaution, she drew up a dose of diazepam into a syringe and slid it into the pen pocket on the front of her uniform.
She washed him slowly, enjoying looking at his body without him observing her. When she had finished washing his front, she tried to turn him on his side, pull him slightly over towards her so that she could wash his back and change the sheet but he was impossible to move with his wrists and ankles strapped down. Of course, with him sedated it should be safe to release the wrist and ankle on one side allowing the procedure to be completed much more easily.
She untied the ankle first and lifted the leg nearer to the middle of the bed, and then she untied the wrist. While she had him on his side and was washing his back, his free arm made a sudden move and before she realised what was happening he had grasped her by the throat.
There was a frantic struggle as she tried to pry his fingers away and he made several attempts with his free leg to kick her. On the last attempt, he managed to kick the side of her head and knocked her cap and wig off. They landed on his chest.
He looked surprised and shocked to see her short dark hair and she used that moment to punch him hard on the jaw. His grip on her throat weakened and she was able to pull away long enough to take the syringe out of her pocket and inject it into his neck, aiming for the external carotid that was clearly visible. She knew her aim had been accurate when he went out cold in no more than three seconds.
CHAPTER 49
4:35 p.m. Tuesday 11 April
Harry stormed into the cellar and passed Julian’s bed like a man possessed. Julian had only been awake for a short time but it was long enough for him to think about Harriet and Harry being the same person. Now, the sight of Harry in a heightened manic mood made him feel physically sick with fear.
Harry ripped the tape off Julian’s mouth and stood there glaring down at him. ‘Harriet tells me you’ve been disobedient. She said you pretended to be sedated and then tried to strangle her.’
Julian stared back at him, speechless.
‘You’ll have to be punished – though, it’ll be your son who suffers.’
‘No, please, Sam’s done nothing . . .’
‘You know how it goes when you break a rule.’ He walked over to the sink and came back holding heavy duty garden secateurs. ‘These are amazing – they’ll cut through anything.’
‘No – Harry, don’t hurt him - please . . .’
Harry ignored him and walked out of sight around to Sam’s bed.
‘It’s nice to see you awake, Sam – I’ve got a present for you.’
‘Harry, don’t hurt him . . .’
‘Dad - what’
s happening?’ Sam sounded heavily drugged. ‘No, please don’t . . .’
Julian heard a sob of fear from Sam just before he heard the secateurs snap. His son’s scream brought a sob to his own throat and tears filled his eyes. When the secateurs snapped a second time, Sam’s howling went on until his voice was too hoarse to continue.
Harry came back around the chimney breast and tossed something at Julian. Two small bloodied objects landed on the bed covers. Julian recognised them as toes. Harry had cut off Sam’s little toes.
Harry searched through a box that sat on the draining board next to the sink and in obvious frustration at not finding what he was looking for he tipped the contents of the box, an assortment of surgical instruments, onto the floor. He fell to his knees to search through them.
‘Where the fuck . . . I left them here and she’s moved them – always moving my things – fucking bitch.’ He grabbed at something from the mess and jumped to his feet, swinging around to face Julian. ‘You’re breaking my sister’s heart.’
He leant over the bed to put his face right up to Julian’s. ’She says she loves you - wants to keep you alive down here – you and your precious son – but I can’t let you live, not now, not after she told me what you did in our house with that whore.’ He ripped the tape off Julian’s mouth. ‘And I suppose you’re going to try and convince me that you love Harriet.’
For a split second, Julian thought of trying to reason with him but there was a mad look in his eyes that told him that any attempt to communicate would be rewarded with violence.
‘Everything will be moved forward now,’ he said, stripping off the bed covers. ‘You’ve only got yourself to blame – and Harriet, because she let another one of your whores into the house. It’s just a matter of time before they all come – the police – the reporters – and it’s all because of you.’ He gripped hold of the catheter and yanked it out with such force that Julian cried out in pain. ‘You won’t need that where you’re going - or this,’ he said, pulling out the intravenous cannula with one hard tug.