Leah scanned the muscular men before her. The shaved heads, the tattoos on their skin. They both appeared to have difficulty remaining focused.
Damien started to hop from one foot to the other when neither her or Jake responded. ‘Come on. We’re not going anywhere until we get it.’
There was silence.
‘Put the kettle on,’ said Declan to Damien. He didn’t take his eyes off his hostages.
‘You want a brew?’ said Damien looking bemused at his brother. He wiped a hand under a runny nose.
‘Just do it,’ Declan said.
The switching on of the kettle was louder than Leah had heard before. Minutes later white billowing steam gathered on the ceiling. Damien stood looking questionably at his brother whose eyes had not left the couple. The kettle automatically switched off.
‘Bring it here,’ Declan indicated with his outstretched arm and clasping hand.
Jake began shaking his head from side to side in a frantic fashion. His whole body trembled. Declan leaned towards him in a menacing fashion, ripping the tape from his mouth. Jake groaned momentarily. His swollen eyes barely able to see. Time seemed to stand still. Leah, eyes were wide, staring and pleading silently for Declan to stop, but he was not to be deterred.
‘Where is the money?’ said Declan. The kettle held threateningly in his hand. It’s spout facing Jake.
‘We don’t keep money here.’ Leah blurted. ‘Tell them Jake, tell them,’ she screamed.
‘And you’ve underestimated us if you think we’re stupid enough not to have done our homework.’ Declan said raising an eyebrow at Jake. Declan snarled. ‘Happy families eh? You obviously don’t tell the missus everything, do you Mr Isaac?’
‘You’ve been watching us?’ said Leah.
‘For months’ love,’ said Damien. He winked at Leah.
Jake’s sight was on Declan’s hand as he moved towards Leah. Jake blinked away the sweat from his forehead that had mixed with the blood from an open wound and ran into the slits that were his eyes.
‘Your wife is very beautiful Mr Isaac. It would be really naughty of me to leave her scarred for life, now wouldn’t it?’
Jake remained silent. Leah’s eyes darted from one to the other of the hostage takers, then her eyes settled on Damien. The panic rose in her and the comfort that she sought in the younger brother’s face was not found.
‘Jake?’ she said, urgency in her voice. ‘Please Jake?’
‘But if you’re going to be stupid Mr Isaac.’ Declan nodded his head at his brother. His eyes turned back to Jake. Damien grabbed hold of the man’s bound hands and lifted him to his feet. Jake fought with the younger man but his strength was no match for Damien and with ease he held Jakes arms out in front of him. Without taking his eyes off Jake’s face Declan poured the boiling hot water slowly and deliberately over his forearm until the kettle was empty.
The scream that emanated from Jake’s lips was a sound like Leah had never heard before. She saw her husband’s head jolt backwards and when he shuddered, his jaw line ridged and tight, he slumped forward. He’d passed out.
‘Please, no, no, no.’ Leah sobbed.
Damien grinned an open mouthed grin that showed Leah his gold fillings.
Declan got down on the floor next to Jake. ‘I’m boiling the kettle again; except next time it won’t be you who gets it. The next one is for her.’ He passed the kettle to his brother as his eyes flew towards Leah. Damien obediently walked to the sink and, taking the lid off the kettle, filled it with water and proceeded to plug it in. The switch went down. Leah’s eyes hung on the little hand of the dining room grandmother clock.
‘You’ve got seconds,’ Declan said, grabbing Jake by the hair and yanking his head viciously backwards. Raising his arm Declan slapped Jake hard across his face with the palm of his hand. Once, twice, three times. His lip split open and blood oozed from the wound. The bruising on his face was developing into a rainbow of colours. Blisters were forming rapidly on his pink hands and arms. ‘Stop pissing us about. Don’t you know by now we mean business?’
Jake opened his eyes, as much as the bruising would allow. ‘We don’t keep any money here,’ he said. Blood splashes from his mouth peppered his shirt.
Declan grabbed hold of Leah by her arm and pulled her to her feet. He indicated to his brother. ‘Do you want her?’
Damien left the kettle and strolled over to the pair. Standing beside her he put his face close to hers. ‘Urm.’ He screwed up his face. ‘Go on then.’ Declan turned to Jake and raised his eyebrows.
Leah shrank back, trembling. She looked at Jake who was semi-conscious on the sofa. ‘Do something, please Jake, please, I’m begging you.’
‘Don’t bother love,’ said Declan. ‘He obviously ain’t going to help you or he would’ve done by now.’
‘Look, I’ll give you my purse, my credit cards, what cash I have.’ Leah’s lips were trembling so much that she could barely talk. The kettle was boiling, a steam-cloud wafted towards them, calling to the hostage takers.
‘I need the toilet, please?’
Declan nodded to Damien and on shaking legs Leah stumbled towards the door.
‘Go with her,’ ordered Declan.
Leah turned quickly. ‘No, no, It’s okay.’
Damien looked at her trussed hands with a furrowed brow and then back to her face. ‘Really?’
‘If you’ll just undo my...’ Damien grabbed her hands and she screamed. ‘Jake! Jake! Give them the money, please!’ she called out as she was led away.
Leah sat down on the cold toilet seat, only to look up into the cold staring eyes of her captor who stood directly in front of her.
‘Let me get my clothes?’
‘No chance, I’m enjoying the view.’
Leah looked down at the floor.
‘Finished?’ he said. She nodded.
From the downstairs toilet she could hear scuffling in the hallway and when they returned to the dining room Jake and Declan had gone. Leah sat on the sofa and Damien pulled up a dining chair so that he could sit opposite her. They waited.
From upstairs Leah could hear muffled voices that suddenly became desperate and loud. ‘And the rest?’ Declan could be heard shouting. Damien stood up and looked towards the doorway. Nonchalantly, he walked towards the kitchen worktop where the kettle stood. Leah saw him reach out and her heart skipped a beat, but instead of picking it up, as she feared he would, he grabbed a handful of food from the plate. He glanced at Leah each time he put more food in his mouth, chewed it and swallowed with a hint of satisfaction. He looked at her in a way that sent shivers through her body. She hoped and prayed that Jake had given the hostage taker what he wanted. If cash was truly all they were after, and her husband was giving it to him then they should be gone soon. A feeling of relative calmness came over her as Damien smiled at her in a human like way. He strolled over towards her. ‘Want some?’ he said as he pushed a cold chicken leg to her lips. Leah opened her mouth to comply but the smell made her gag. Involuntary her stomach heaved. She turned her head, coughed and promptly, threw up on the settee.
‘Gross,’ he said as he cupped her chin in his hand and squeezed it tight. Clear spittle dribbled down her chin and her eyes swam with tears. He turned her face to look up at him. ‘Don’t you ever, ever, turn away from me you bitch. Do you hear?’
Leah nodded.
‘I might not be as la-di-da as him,’ he said with a toss of his head towards the upstairs. ‘But, I’ve earned respect and now I do what I want, when I want, do you understand?’ He put a finger in his mouth and not taking his eyes off Leah’s face he released her bra fastening and ran his finger around her bare nipple. Damien’s lip curled. Splaying his fingers to cup her breast he pushed her away from him and she breathed an audible sigh of relief.
The tears that came burned in her eyes and her head throbbed at the temples. Leah swallowed hard and rested her hand flat to her stomach and the baby moved. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry, please, please.
It’s my, our, first child. I’m so scared.’
A loud bang from the stairway stopped them in their tracks and they both looked towards the door. The noise that ensued was one of someone being dragged down the stairs, thud, thud -one step at a time. Declan was laughing as he entered the room pulling Jake by a noose he had made to put around his neck with a bed sheet. He carried a blue, cloth bank bag and a metal cash box that Leah knew Jake used for petty cash. Jake’s face, so bloated and bruised was hardly recognisable to her.
‘What are you looking at me like that for sweetheart?’ Declan said. ‘He tripped. Didn’t you mate?’ He threw Damien the bag that was plumped up full with notes. ‘Count it,’ he told his brother as Damien slammed the bounty down on the table. ‘I still think he’s holding out on us. There’s more. I know it.’ He turned and kicked Jake in the shin with force. ‘I’m fucking sure there’s more.’ Jake keeled over. ‘Another safe?’ As Jake stood upright Declan punched him in the stomach.
‘It’s not enough,’ said Damien holding the bank notes in his hands. ‘A couple of grand. It’s not enough.’
‘Big mistake, big fucking mistake.’ Declan shouted at Jake. ‘Come on! Come on! Where’s the rest?’
Damien walked towards Leah, he pulled her to her feet and dragged her in front of her husband. ‘Look at her,’ said Declan. ‘Do you love her?’
Jake’s head bobbed slowly up and down. The most he could do with the injuries he had sustained. Leah shoulders slumped.
‘Be assured, unless you come up with more, a lot more, very, very quickly you can say goodbye to your wife.’ The gun Declan produced was held to her forehead and then menacingly, he ran the barrel very slowly down her body, between her naked breasts and he stopped as it reached her swollen womb. He looked across at Jake.
‘There’s another safe.’ Jake panted. Leah slumped to the floor. Declan grabbed Jake by the throat, tightening the sheet around his neck as he did so. Jake made a gurgling sound.
‘That’s good, good. Take me to it then and let’s stop fucking about,’ Declan said in a whisper, close to his ear.
Leah looked puzzled. ‘For god sake,’ she screamed. ‘How could you? If you’ve got money, give it to them. Give it to them now, you stupid idiot!’
The audience to Jake and Leah’s conflict watched on with amusement. Jake staggered a few yards towards the oak panelling in the recess of the dining room. He turned and held out his hands indicating to Declan to untie them. Once released from his shackles, he dragged a small footstool a few inches towards the fireplace and stepped up onto it. Leaning heavily on the mantelpiece enabled him to reach the first book from the right hand side of the fifth shelf down from the ceiling. Surprisingly, the wooden surround to the bookshelf opened to reveal a safe. Leah’s jaw dropped and her eyes were unbelieving. With bloodied, shaking hands Jake retrieved a bag. Damien grabbed it.’
‘There must be near on fifty grand here,’ he said, peering inside at the tightly rolled notes.
Jake stepped down with a thud on the wooden floor. Satisfied, Declan re-tied Jake’s hands, put tape over his mouth and tossed him, like a mannequin back onto the sofa.
Damien put his arm limply around Leah shoulders and stared down at her breasts. ‘Do it again,’ he said to Declan.
‘Do what again?’
‘The thing you did to her with the gun.’ Damien raised one eye brow at his brother. The elder grinned.
‘You dirty twat,’ Declan said with a sneer.
Leah looked from one to the other. ‘Please! He’s given you what you wanted.’ Leah could barely say her husband’s name.
Declan pointed the gun at Jake and then at Leah.
‘Upstairs both of you, we’ll ring the police when we’re away,’ he said matter-of-fact.
Compliance seemed to be the best option and Leah led Jake, with a gun to his back and as little fuss as possible, up the stairs. Damien joined Leah on the top step. He nodded towards the bedroom giving Declan a lopsided grin. Declan took Jake into the main bedroom and instructed him to lie face down on the bed. He tied his legs together.
Damien took Leah into the nursery and instructed her to get down on the floor.
‘Can’t you leave me with my husband, please?’ A dry sob caught in her throat at the sight of the emptiness behind his eyes. His breathing was heavy and quick. She could see the adrenalin pumping through his veins at his temples. ‘On your hands and knees,’ he commanded. The softness of the carpet in her clenched fists and the smell of baby powder filled her nostrils - it gave her some comfort.
She heard him undo his belt which he did without any hurry. A feeling of foreboding washed over her. She was hot, she was cold, she felt sick to the stomach. The noise of him undoing the trouser zip was short but the shuffle of him dropping behind her was quick. As he entered her from behind she heard the firing of a gun.
‘Jake!’ she lifted her head and screamed.
Chapter Four
‘She’s all yours.’ Damien said releasing Leah’s hips from his tight grip as he withdrew from her. Without his support she fell on her side whimpering. Leah sensed the two men standing above her but she daren’t open her eyes. Screaming as hard and as loud as she could she curled into the foetus position. ‘No more, no more,’ she sobbed.
With the quickness of an animal jumping on its prey Damian picked up the duvet from the cot and the musical mobile sprang into action. As it merrily danced to and fro he threw the cover over Leah’s head. Lunging towards her Declan tossed the gun in Damien’s direction and held the duvet down as she struggled beneath. ‘Do it,’ Declan yelled at his brother. Damien looked at his brother panic written all over his face. ‘Shut the bitch up. Shut her up now!’ The younger brother didn’t question the command. Three shots rang out before the sound of silence. The cot mobile cut the silence with one musical note. All was still. There was no rush, panic, or emotion from the men, just a need to ensure there was nothing left to link them to the crime.
‘We need a fire?’ said Declan.
‘We don’t need to search for an accelerant. Look, over there, turps.’
‘An explosion?’ said Declan with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
Quietly and with expertise they poured the contents of both the bottle and the can over the bodies. The little that remained they sprinkled on the beds and carpet before casting aside the containers.
‘Get the money. Leave it by the door. We’ll set both of them alight. Then we’ll go downstairs and turn the gas on in the kitchen. That should give us an explosion.’
‘It should also get rid of any evidence,’ said Damien.
‘There you go again. Been listening to them Pigs down the boozer! You’ll be wanting to join up next.’
‘Yeah, whatever.’ Damien looked about him. ‘Shame really.’
‘What is?’
‘To fire it. I could live here,’ Damien mused.
Declan handed his brother a lighter. ‘Ready to go?’
Damien gave a nod of his head.
Both fires in the bedrooms were lit simultaneously on the count of three. The brothers hurtled down the stairs. An alarm began to ring, then another, a third, a fourth. High pitched screeching alarms. The brothers raced to the kitchen. ‘For fuck’s sake, how many smoke alarms can one house have?’ shouted Damien as he covered his ears to the deafening sound.
Quickly the two brother’s worked as one turning on the gas taps. As Damien passed the kitchen worktop on their hurried exit he swiftly picked up the cooked chicken laden plate. As the brother’s fled the house, the cash haul was scooped up where it had been left at the front door. They ran away from the house, leapt into their car seats and Declan jammed the key in the vehicle’s ignition. It was speedily driven directly down the driveway. When the car came to the gateway Declan slammed his foot unexpectedly on the brake. Damien looked across at his brother questioningly. Then as Declan turned his head back towards the house he followed his gaze. Damien lit a joint. Declan reached out for a drag. The sick
ly sweet smell of weed filled the air. Momentarily, they watched the flames lick the panes of glass like hungry fingers, and as the fire grew, so did the billowing noise. One almighty boom saw the upstairs windows blown onto the terrace, the splinters cascaded so far they could be heard hitting the tarmac on the ground nearby. Damien opened the passenger door, slid the plate of food onto his brother’s lap and, before Declan could ask why, was throwing a staddlestone into the boot of the car.
‘Come on you fucking idiot.’ Declan shouted before snorting a line. ‘Trumpton will be here in no time. We’re not exactly in the middle of the bloody desert.’
Damien let out a groan as he slumped back into his seat and slammed the car door. Declan threw the plate back on his lap. ‘Okay, okay. I didn’t realise how fucking heavy, them fucking mushrooms are,’ he said, leaning back in his seat.
‘Why the hell did you want one of them?’
‘Grandad always wanted one for his garden?’ His grin was wide.
‘You’re going soft in the fucking head.’
‘Come on. What you waiting for? Let’s get out of here. Go, go, go.’ Damien rammed a chunk of chicken into his mouth. ‘I’m fucking starving.’
Declan shouted. ‘That’s the fucking weed...’ He put his foot down on the accelerator and the car made a huge roar as it screeched on the tarmac and leapt into action. His eyes were not on the road ahead but on his brother face. ‘You’re a fucking, mental twat!’
‘Look out!’ Damien shouted. Squinted eyes were suddenly like saucers.
Declan stamped down on the brake. Damien’s head found the windscreen. The car tyre’s screeched and they were thrown to and fro as Declan tried to gain control of the swerving vehicle. But he wasn’t quick enough, or in a fit state, to make sure it entirely missed the stone pillar.
‘You’re alive then?’ Declan, reversed the car from where it come to rest against the stone pillar. ‘I’ve heard it’s the quite ones you need to worry about.’
When The Killing Starts: A DI Jack Dylan novel Page 4